#but it became apparent that it was actually coming from inside the house and i was like ‘great’

[kneelingshadowsalome]

I Never Missed You 1/3 (Bodyguard!Ghost x F!Reader)

Word count: 3.5 k

Tags/warnings: 18+ only. Romance, eventual smut, fluff, light angst, banter, pining, flirting, minor injuries, major character death, HFN ending. Lady/Knight dynamic. Unequal pairing trope. Bodyguard AU. Reader is a rich bitch (how else could she afford a PPO?)

Summary: 1/3 You hire a bodyguard to protect you and hunt down the one who's been sent to take your life. This man was your lawyer's first recommendation, and you never even looked through his file because you had better things to do. But it soon turns out that this man – this Simon Riley – is very talented... Talented in driving you crazy.

A/N: A three part fic based on this request. The first chapter features banter and pining. If you're here for smut, stay tuned. There is an entire chapter of it coming right up.

Your lawyer says it would be a good idea. He even dares to look at you from under his brow like you're a child who doesn't know what's good for her.

And you don't.

Because that's exactly how you feel like: a grown woman who's stunted to a kid, now being supervised by adults. 

The bodyguard they assigned you - the one you accepted because he was your lawyer's first choice - is exactly the broad, brooding type you have always imagined bodyguards to be like.

But he's not wearing sunglasses, and he's not wearing a suit. He says the point of a bodyguard is that they don't look like a bodyguard. 

The first thing you actually pay attention to is the milky-white eyelashes. Only days after you hear that this man rarely shows his face. You were given a file on him, but you never peeked inside it because you were pissed that such drastic measures had to be taken in the first place. You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Now you pry it from the pile of papers you buried it into, open it, and the first - and only - photo you see is a perfect portrayal of what Death looks like. 

He's the Reaper himself when adorned with that human skull. Keen but emotionless eyes stare from the pits of the sockets to somewhere in the distance, but that look is a stare into the past. The photo raises thousands of questions, and not only the need to know why this man prefers to wear human bones when he's shooting people.

Because apparently, that’s what he used to do before he became a bodyguard. He's buff, that you already know. But in that picture, he looks even more packed, with what you suppose is a bullet vest beneath that blouse. He’s holding an ugly-looking gun – not a pistol, but a rifle of some sort. The gear on him no doubt weighs something close to 60 pounds. His sleeves are rolled up and expose the crisscross veins on his forearms along with war-ugly, crude tattoos, and you swallow. 

Were you really looking at a picture of a barbaric soldier like it was some peculiar soft porn now?

You flip the file closed and toss it on the table, rather disgusted with yourself.

The next time you see him, you look into those brown eyes a moment longer. That stoic stare is the only thing you recognize as that of the man in the picture. That, along with his size, although photos really can't convey how this brooding grunt makes you feel: small and insignificant. Nor do they illustrate how the man looks like he’s the most graceful bull in a china shop when moving inside your house.

You suppose he grew up poor, the way he looks at your furniture, your half-a-mile bookshelf, and the latest art piece you got last month in your living room. He's judging you. 

You're posh. And clueless. And a child.

And this brute lives with you, for now. He's placed downstairs until the target is neutralized. And he's not just a bodyguard: he's hunting the hunter while you're the bait.

It should give you a thrill; your friend giggles when you two gossip about him over a lunch while he's standing only a few feet away. But this situation does not give you a thrill. It just makes you pissed.

And it's not just the situation, it's this... Simon Riley who makes you pissed.

Couldn't they teach manners, some conversation skills at the bodyguard school or wherever the hell this pale, emotionless Hulk came from?

You recheck his file and snoop some more details about his past. He didn't go to bodyguard school (of course he didn't); he used to work for some PMC. The brute's a cold-blooded, cold-hearted mercenary. To put it more eloquently, he's an elite soldier of some tactical unit. But all of that is classified, as is almost every other detail about him. The only thing you are left with is that he's British through and through, but you can already tell that by his accent - the thick Mancunian that makes your stomach and heart flip.

It's gruff – of course it's gruff – and sometimes chafes your ears like they were being grated with the softest grater. You find yourself thinking about him while you're in the shower, when your fingers start to drift and wander.

And for the love of god, you are not thinking about that accent and those eyes while you're masturbating. You're not going to mourn the fact that he never rolls his sleeves when he's with you. When he's at work.

"I saw your file," you start to chitchat over breakfast one day.

"I reckon."

He won't even touch the coffee you poured him but proceeds to drink almost all the tea. The delicate china looks miniature in his hands as he pours the Earl Grey into his cup. The cups are dainty, too – this savage would prefer a large, black mug, perhaps, from which to gulp his tea.

"So. What made you become a soldier?"

"Joined the SAS when I was 17."

And another thing he won't do is look at you when you speak. No manners at all in this man, only rough, sharp edges. He sits as far from you as he can, at the other end of the table, as if you were in a meeting. Or a war council.

"That's not what I asked."

"I know."

You roll your eyes. Conversation skills, god. Just give this man at least some charm…

"I'm going to do some shopping," you declare. "You can stay here."

Finally, he raises his stare. It's full of tired distaste.

"Nah. That's not how this works."

You rise from the table, gracefully and with a neutral face, indicating that you are an adult and won't be needing a babysitter at a store.

"Lady." 

The command is dark and stops you before you have taken one step from the table. It's a slur, almost.

He rises from the table too, and you almost feel sorry, noticing he hasn't yet finished his toast.

"You hired me. And I'm gonna do my job."

He looks big and broad, like a beautiful storm, with that piercing stare and the most alluring lashes you have ever seen on a man. Your voice turns into a meek, pitched attempt to reason with a giant.

"...I'm just going shopping."

His head tilts with a mock: you're only a child in his eyes. 

"Then let's go shopping."

…......…......

Sitting next to this giant in a taxi must be a hilarious-looking scene. A charming, vibrant lady and a sullen, intimidating Theseus – what a pair.

You've also never been this close to him. The man always sits with a wide spread. One heavy thigh almost touches your knees, which you have turned towards him for some unfathomable reason. You were taught to sit with knees closely set together, and that’s what you’re trying to do now: make yourself as small and feminine as possible. It only accentuates this man's size compared to yours. There's a pile of shopping bags between you two, and your gaze is directed outside the window, but you can feel his presence like there's a thrumming monolith beside you.

And he's always dressed in black. You kind of enjoyed how you two looked at the store: you in your heels and a pearl white suit, he in black, tactical ripstop and boots. You wouldn't define the man well-dressed… but he is sharply dressed in his own field, that's for sure. Even a commoner like you could see that.

He had complained about your clothes. White draws too much attention and makes for a bigger target. You had brushed him off with a scoff. You’re not going to change the way you dress because of this.

"You're from Manchester, right?"

You're only trying to make the journey home more enjoyable, but feel like you're snooping again, this time from the man himself. The less you know about Simon Riley, the more you want to learn who he is. It is only natural to get a little curious when his file barely had two paragraphs and a photo. You suppose even that single picture was taken and given forward with reluctance. 

And the only thing you learn is that small talk is a completely foreign concept to this man.

"You're quite the Sherlock," he mutters with that fat accent that gave him away the minute you two shook hands. You Sherlock about some more, look at the left hand that rests on his thigh.

There's no ring. Not even a tan line. He must be lonely: no relationship could stand working hours like these.

"Do you still live there?"

"...No."

"Do you miss the place?"

"No."

The short answers are guttural and spoken from the back of his throat. You don't know if he's doing it on purpose, or if this Simon is like this with everyone. He's not annoyed, though, not the way you're beginning to be.

"Aren't you a chatty one…" you mumble while watching cloudy London pass by. You figured he might hear it, and perhaps that was your purpose, even if your voice was barely a whisper.

"I'm not here to talk. Ma'am."

…......…......

You are told to stay away from the windows. The dinner table is moved so no one can aim at your head through a glass. And even then, most curtains must be closed at all times. 

He goes through doors first, and advises against going out at all. You get a list of things you should take into consideration if you do go out.

And you’re not going to give in to fear.

You simply take different routes to your friends and family, have lunches at different restaurants than usual. He says you should get an armored car, but you don’t have a license. Of course your brooding bodyguard could drive, but what will you do with some armored tank after you're finally through this thing?

What's far more interesting is that it turns out this Simon Riley is a smoker.

Disgusting, you think at first, then think about him all sweaty and grimy after some gunfight, reaching for a cig, curling those thick fingers around a pure-white coffin nail. No, wait – he had gloves in that picture; he wouldn't bother to take them off before he smoked, he would just lean on his gun and on some crumbling wall and sigh from the joy of being alive, of being bloodied and dirty and victorious before taking a long drag from his cigarette.

Ugh.

Reluctantly you agree that perhaps there is an odd charm to this man after all. Either that, or then you are in need of some serious therapy.

Breakfasts are torturingly quiet with Simon, and you can hear the slow roll of eyes every time you make plans to go to a party or an art gallery.

Once, a zipper gets stuck and you have to ask him for help. It’s mortifying, and he doesn’t say a word, only mocks you with his eyes as you turn around for him to place a warm hand on your hip and another on your back to pull up the zipper you had fought to reach and drag up by yourself for at least 10 minutes.

A week passes, and he’s buried in work, not only because he’s guarding your body 24/7, but because he’s trying to locate the hitman. The fact that Simon Riley is technically speaking a hitman too - to think that you have hired a killer - is something you don’t have the mental strength to delve into right now.

"Found the one who's hunting you."

Another file is dropped before you at the end of the week. The man marches into your office like there's no door there at all. Doesn't even bother to knock. 

This isn't what you meant when you politely told him to make himself home…

You roll the glass of water on your temple and sigh. The file reveals another photo, this time of a man who looks like an executioner.

"Goes by the name König," he says and clasps his hands over his crotch while taking a wide stance in front of your desk. "Austrian war criminal. Skilled with knives… Likes to torture people first."

Nice. More brutes.

"Why are you telling me this?" 

You're tired, there's a headache approaching, and you really don't care to go over some details about a professional lunatic killer right now. But Simon Riley - codenamed Ghost, you’ve lately learned - looks down at you like a storm cloud over a carefree meadow.

"Because you clearly don't understand the danger you're in." 

He adds "Ma'am" as a footnote. Purposely forgotten...

And you wish he would forget that silly, overly courteous term.

"Well–" you sigh your frustration in the air between you two, then realize that perhaps you're being treated like a child because you behave like one. "What are you going to do about this man...?"

"Gonna kill him," he simply shrugs, the eternal, distant look in those eyes gaining a smug tone to them. 

He enjoys this. Enjoys killing, but what's even worse, enjoys seeing how his ruthlessness makes you shift uncomfortably in your chair. Or perhaps he just likes shocking you with that file with an image of a lyncher in it. You know perfectly well that you're in trouble and under threat. That's what you've tried to forget, but no one lets you forget.

Simon takes a deep breath before placing his humble petition before you.

"Ma’am. I'm gonna need your help."

And nothing in this man is humble. Even though he rarely speaks and never shows his talents, not to talk of showing off, he reeks of pride and testosterone.

You set the glass on the table and straighten the file to align with the leather pad on your desk. Your fingers are not trembling. Yet.

"What do you mean?" 

He gives a hoarse laugh. The sound drills straight to your core and starts to bloom there. You realize you have never seen him smile before. And he's not smiling now: the short laugh is just a dark chuckle that mainly stays inside his chest; it only makes those stocky shoulders rise and fall.

"Not like that," he looks down at you with a tad of mercy. "You're gonna serve as bait."

"Isn't… that what I've been the whole time?"

"Yeah. But this time, we're gonna lure him in."

The way he talks makes your thighs rub together without your consent. You wonder what it would feel like if you were trapped between that solid chest and a wall, what it would be like if those hands woke you up with a calloused caress of a thigh.

You don't quite understand the difference between bait and a lure but find yourself willing to do whatever you can to help him. Help Simon…

"Sure... I'll help you," you say as if this man wasn't on your payroll.

"That's the least you could do."

That barely hidden bite in his dry retort doesn't escape you. This man's audacity buries whatever odd want you have started to feel for him and replaces it with searing, womanly fury. 

He could be a little more sensitive.

You're the one who has a target on their back. You're the one who fears going to sleep at night and feels lucky they're alive come dawn. If he wasn't so crude and uncaring, you would've asked him to sleep in the same room with you from the start. But he has to be a brute, has to follow and mock you with those ink blot eyes at every turn.

You rise from the chair when he turns and walks toward the door. It's almost a snappy jump, an attempt to reclaim your power. You're sore and thoroughly peeved.

"I never wanted this," you tell him with an annoying timbre in your tone. He stops right before the door but doesn't turn.

"Neither did I."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Could be somewhere warmer with no damsels giving me their cheek."

The BDU blouse you saw in that picture was yellow, burnt yellow. Desert wear… He wants to be in a hot desert with a cold gun in his hand. Dropped straight from some plane, working alone, in a place where damsels aren't giving him their cheek. Where there are no damsels at all. 

You're relatively sure there is no Mrs. Riley. No woman could stand this man.

"Then go somewhere warmer," you snap, almost stomp your heel on the soft carpet. This man is simply intolerable. The way he never reacts to anything makes you want to throw things at him. 

He must be trained to be so calm, but you're not. You're used to making men a little stupid and flustered. You're used to men eating out of your hand. He's not behaving at all like he's supposed to. Simon Riley is just a mountain without emotion.

He turns with that eternal, downgrading look in his eyes. There's a flash of amusement there, too.

Soddy bastard…

"Nah. Not until I've done my job."

His voice is warm now; the gruff and gravel make way to a smoothness that goes directly to your knees. Your lips part, and his eyes fall on your mouth just before he lifts his chin a hair of an inch.

"Your job…" you breathe, too furious to even rage or shout. 

Your fucking job.

Why did you even want this job if it's so–

"Yeah. My job. Some people got one."

You have to take support from the table with your fingertips. 

"Excuse me?"

There's the tiniest curve at the corner of his mouth before he takes his leave.

"Good night, ma'am."

…......…......

The next day, you start the breakfast by apologizing. 

You barely slept that night, first because of this man's utter nerve, then because your wrath eventually cooled down into a bleeding consciousness of how you must look in his eyes. 

He has accepted this job, something different from what he usually does, for reasons unknown to you. He might not be on some faraway battlefield where bullets fly past, but this is no less risky. The picture he showed you, the file on König, haunted your restless sleep last night – when you finally did get some sleep. 

You have been running around like everything’s normal when it’s not. The man’s just trying to do his job. 

And you're the one who hired him. Not your lawyer.

"I want to make peace," you coo while spreading some jam on toast. You expect Simon to finally melt a little. You might even get a smile. You secretly hope your reward is that this brute turns into a tamed lap dog you can feed some treats every now and then. 

The situation is thrilling: the beefiest man you have ever seen is going to kill someone for you. Even if he's being paid to do so, he is prepared to die for you. There's something incredibly sexy about that.

But there is silence at the other end of the table. Only the crunchy sounds of toast getting sugar on top can be heard.

"That so?" 

He doesn't sound like he's melting. He doesn't sound at all domesticated. He only sounds more and more amused.

"Yes. I'm happy that you're here," you put the toast down and turn to look at him with angel eyes.

He laughs. When he stops, he looks you up and down, then laughs some more, a silent, shoulder-shaking chuckle.

"I'm… I'm serious," you hurry to add. "I mean it. I haven't been treating you the way I should–"

"That's for sure."

You see more warmth in those eyes. But it's not because of your humble apology.

His eyes are trekking down the neckline of your blouse, and to your horror, you notice – feel – how one of the top buttons has opened, revealing much more than just some skin. You're pretty sure he gets an ample view of the fuchsia bra you're wearing underneath.

If you reach for that button now, you underline that he's not supposed to look, even if it's your mistake that you're so obscenely exposed. If you close it now, you tell him he's not allowed to look. And that's not entirely true.

"Will you forgive me?"

You feel like you're offering peace, or at least a truce, with more than just that peepy question. Because your breasts swell inside that blouse. They rise and fall with your breaths, your nipples grow hard from that look that stays down a bit longer before drifting back up. 

"There's nothing to forgive," he says, voice dropping a note or two. 

"Good," you swallow. The following sentence comes out so weakly that it's almost a whisper. "After all, I hired you."

"Ain't that the truth."

The dim glint in those eyes still holds you as a prisoner, and his tea is growing cold.

"Are we going shopping today?"

"No," you utter, dreading the next inevitable question.

"What then?"

"I… I have a yoga class."

"Of course you do."

…......…......

Taglist: @cumikering

[sapphosclosefriend]

-Thanksgiving Fun-

Pairing: Stepcousin! Masc! Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Genre: smut

Summary: you were never able to resist her, not even on Thanksgiving.

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: top! (beefy and tattooed 🤤) Natasha x bottom! R, stepcest, enemies with benefits, allusions to weed consumption, SMUT, oral on strap on (R giving), throat fucking (R receiving), strap on sex (R receiving), extremely brief oral (R receiving), squirting (R)

A/N: this story contains smut so anyone who isn’t 18+ DNI. I literally wrote this in 2 days out of a frenzy so Idk how good it is…M, P, G pt 2 will come, I promise!!!! Once again, thanks to @rt--link for being so sweet! As usual, likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated! Enjoy ♡

Masterlist

It was already November, which meant it was Thanksgiving time! You were so excited to finally get back home for a little bit after the couple of months you had spent away at uni. Contrary to most of your friends, you actually really liked Thanksgiving. Yes, it meant having to undergo the neverending interrogation from your classically nosy aunts, but you gladly did it every year to be able to spend some time with all of your relatives, even the ones who lived a bit more far away. Of course she was also one of them, though.

Natasha was one of your aunt’s daughters. Her mother had married your uncle 3 years before, making her, the redhead and her sister officially part of the family. Everyone liked Nat as soon as she became part of the group and her sister Yelena, with her sharp wit, was, if possible, even more beloved by everybody. As soon as the two girls regularly entered your lives, you had followed everyone’s advice and started to hang out together. You’d always felt very lucky for having cousins of your same age range, making them some of your closest friends ever, and having the chance of adding someone else to the group immediately sounded like the best idea ever, or at least that’s what you had thought at first.

That was because you didn’t like Natasha, you just didn’t. If at first, while witnessing her interactions with other people, she seemed to be the sweetest girl in the world, once you finally got to know her personally you started loathing her. She wasn’t necessarily a bad person, she was just so irritating all the time. And the worst part was that, apparently, she only acted that way with you, not with her friends, not with your other cousins, not even with her own sister, just with you. If you thought that, thanks to uni’s social life, you had met the cockiest motherfuckers in the world, you were utterly wrong. Natasha was the most terrible one of them all. It was constant teasing, constant comments, constant jokes, constant snickering and each time you heard her voice or looked at her, you wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug smirk off her pretty face.

You didn’t know how it all started. Well, of course you knew that one time, at your grandma’s house to celebrate her birthday, Natasha had been particularly annoying since the moment you’d gotten there, which resulted in you being bitchy and her pulling you into the bathroom and kissing you once she had you trapped against the locked door. You hated it, every second of it and the fact that you ended up begging her to keep going while she was with her fingers knuckle deep inside of you wasn’t of any importance. You weren’t proud of what happened that day, but you were too nice to deny her when a couple of days later she was at your door ripping your clothes off of you. You were both attending the same uni and, despite literally never seeing each other in academic nor social settings, you started finding the closeness to be a much bigger impediment to your initial want to put a stop to your newly found situation. You were growing weaker and weaker to her charm, only while in the bedroom of course, and your intent to end it all kept getting pushed to the back of your mind each time you came with her name on your lips, until it was completely gone.

And that’s how you ended up at yet another family gathering partly ruined by her, this time to celebrate Thanksgiving, having to try to push away the tingle between your legs at the sight of her in her usual casual clothes hiding the defined muscles underneath as she talked with her dad and your grandpa about something involving a bike she was fixing up for herself. You were keeping your distance for your own sanity, but you could clearly hear their words and her low, raspy voice regularly adding to the conversation. You didn’t know what the hell they were talking about and either way, you had stopped actively listening long before, once you got lost in the view of her hand as she held her glass. The second she noticed your eyes fixed on her, you were thankfully saved from her most definitely coming over to tease you, by your cousin Clint, bored out of his mind and equally in need of leaving as soon as possible, even if for very different reasons than you. Ok, maybe him being the person talking to you didn’t exactly make him your savior, he was the person Natasha had gotten the closest to after all, which meant that, as soon as she once again turned to get a peek of your outfit she particularly appreciated, he immediately called her over, most definitely hoping to lure her away from the party. She couldn’t have been more obvious with the way her eyes kept ranking your body head to toe as she listened to his frustrated rambling, but thankfully Clint’s desperation blinded him from noticing the less than innocent way in which her gaze was on you.

“I’m begging you Nat, I’ll get on my knees! Just one!”

You both couldn’t help but chuckle at the grown man’s antics, when you suddenly realized that you had no idea of what the hell they were talking about. You barely had the time to open your mouth to ask them directly, when, of course, she interrupted you without a care to keep talking to her friend.

“Fine, but I’m taking half of it”

As soon as the first word barely left her mouth he was throwing his fist in the air and putting his coat on to go to the guest house she was staying in with you. Because of course you had been placed in the same room, in the small guest house in the backyard that only consisted of one room with one bed. You didn't know why, but everyone apparently thought of you two as some sort of best friends just because you both went to the same uni, despite, again, the known fact that you did not have one single class together, lived in different places and had completely different friends, meaning that you only saw each other when she called you over or randomly popped up at your place to fuck, but of course they didn't know any of that.

“A quarter..”

He was already leaving once he spoke his final words, leaving her alone with you to shake her head at her friend’s antics.

“Fine”

You hated how easily she seemingly had you under a trance as she murmured the word while smiling to herself. She was able to put you out of it equally fast, though, as she turned to you to regard you before leaving the celebration to follow after Clint.

“Are you coming?”

Her almost soft tone had to have given you some sort of whiplash as you stood there, looking at her without being able to utter a single word for a second, before regaining control over your own mind, and sanity, once you noticed her lips starting to curl into her usual mischievous smirk.

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna stay here a bit longer”

She was once again putting at risk your ability to talk as she ran a hand through her short hair to get it out of her face and moved closer and closer to you, sneaking her gaze towards the other side of the room where most people had moved to, before reaching behind you to get a snack from the table you were leaning against, pressing her front against yours and letting your feel a certain something poking your lower belly.

“I’ll wait for you then”

She looked way too pleased by your slightly widened eyes as you tried to contain your emotions in order not to draw any attention to the two of you.

“You’re packing?”

Her brows furrowed as you whisper yelled at her, before speaking matter of factly.

“Of course I’m packing, I’m always packing when I’m with you”

She didn't give you the time to respond to her, immediately licking the chocolate off her fingers while shamelessly looking at your cleavage before turning to go to the guest house. She was infuriating, her and her constant horniness. You decided to casually join some conversations here and there for the brief rest of the night, until almost everyone had gotten to bed, including a much more relaxed Clint, and it was just you and your aunt gossiping in the living room. The moment your phone buzzed in your lap you almost had a feeling of who might had been trying to get in contact with you, so you cautiously lifted the screen, in case a certain someone decided to share something a little too private, and noticed she had sent you a picture.

The moment you clicked on it, the initial, brief awe you found yourself lost in at the sight of her posing with her tongue peaking out and the hood of her sweatshirt over her cap, was unfortunately wiped away once you finally read the caption under it. You couldn’t help but mentally facepalm at her dumb words, even if you had to reluctantly admit that the text was successful in making your heart leap at its crude nature.

“Not enough pressure on my 🍆”

Her finger was pointing to the word “pressure” printed on her hoodie, why did she have to be that way? You knew what she wanted from you, it was all she seemed to be thinking about, like some pussydrunk teen, and the way she didn’t even ask you if you were down for it, expecting you to just indulge her wish, didn’t sit right with you. Who did she think you were? Her whore always waiting for her like a pet?

You locked your phone with a frustrated sigh and got up from the couch, quickly finding an excuse with the immediate questioning you got from your aunt as to why you'd go back to your room so early.

By the time you walked across the whole backyard and got to the entrance of the guest house you were finally able to make out her figure, sitting on the wicker armchair under the small porch with all the lights off, in complete darkness, to hide the very end of a hand rolled cigarette between her fingers and the suspiciously smelly smoke coming from her.

“Your tits look good in that shirt”

You knew it was coming, as soon as you had chosen your outfit, you knew some sort of comment was to be made by her, although it had taken her a bit longer than you had expected. You were wearing a quite simple blouse with a boob window, in reality nothing as scandalous as it sounded, but the complete opposite in Natasha’s eyes. The way your jeans perfectly hugged your ass and the sway of your hips anytime you had walked past her, were just the cherry on top to the main course right below your pretty face.

You barely looked at her as you kept walking by her past the door without acknowledging her words, hearing her chuckle at your usual uptight self. You hated to admit it, but the way she was manspreading, making a bulge under her sweatpants slightly visible, while she casually smoked, had made you even more willing to help her out with her “pressure issue”, not that she needed to know about your enthusiasm anyway. By the time you were just starting to get undressed she entered the room, locking the door behind her and standing against it to shamelessly look at your ass as you leaned down to take your shoes off. As soon as your pants were off too and you were about to slip off your shirt she spoke up.

“No no no, keep that on”

Despite the way too pleased look on her face, you were silently thankful for the piece of clothing still on you in the slightly chilly room. You didn’t even bother to take your warm, ankle high socks off and left yourself fall on your back on the bed, feeling satisfied after noticing her swallowing and wetting her own lips as her eyes stayed fixed on your boobs’ slight jiggling as you had dropped on the mattress. Once you got comfortable on top of the soft duvet, you made sure to look right at her as you slowly spread your legs and immediately started lightly rubbing yourself through the fabric of your own underwear, moaning softly at the light stimulation as a way to tease the motherfucker in front of you. Without uttering a word, she left her spot by the door and walked over to you, stopping at the foot of the bed to grab her cock through her pants and slowly pump it. Pushing down her sweatpants just enough for the dildo strapped to her hips to spring out, she gave you a peak of the beautiful, defined v lines you had kissed over so many times and the bottom of the tattoos on her torso and abdomen you had to admit you loved. There was some ink peeking out from the cuff on her wrist as well, making the sight of her strong hand holding the base of her cock even more pleasing.

“Come here, get it wet”

You wanted to come up at least with a remark at her blunt order, but found nothing but anticipation in you and your body, as if moving by its own accord, immediately left your spot to kneel on the bed right in front of her crotch. You didn't waste any time, you couldn't have even if you wanted to, and, as soon as your lips touched the head of her cock, you tried your best to relax your throat in order to take as much of her length as you could, earning a pleased hum from her at the sound of your gags every time she reached the back of your throat.

“Now that's a cocksucker”

Her words pulled your eyes to her face and found her looking intently at you. The groan that came from her once you stopped bobbing your head to stay still with her cock still in your mouth sent a strong twing of arousal through you as she easily understood what you wanted.

She gently grabbed your head with both hands to keep you in place and immediately started to move her hips to fuck your face. Relishing the sight of a string of spit dropping on the part of your chest exposed by the cut in your shirt, she started pushing even deeper to see just how far you were willing to go for her. The resistance was clear as she pushed a bit more of her cock with every other thrust, until you finally couldn't wait anymore and grabbed her ass to give her a push and hopefully make her understand what she needed to do. With one final thrust she managed to push herself past your tight throat until your nose was touching her crotch. She couldn't help herself and rushed to get her phone from her pocket to snap a picture of you looking up at her with watery eyes as you grasped her ass cheeks through her pants to keep her from moving away. It was only once the need to breathe got the best of you that you pushed yourself off of her, sucking in a deep breath while Natasha stared with hooded eyes at your swollen lips and the spit connecting them to her cock.

“You say you hate me but you need my cock that much?”

You hated so much how true her words were and tried to distract yourself from the thought by lying back down and grabbing her cock now covered in your spit.

“Well, you're obsessed with my pussy so it's even”

She just smirked at your remark, deep down knowing that you were so fucking right. She couldn't get enough of it, all the girls she had fucked and she had to loose it for her stepcousin? Well, she honestly didn't give a shit, as long as you were careful she was going to keep fucking you like the slut she knew you were for her deep down.

“For the first time I've gotta say you're right”

You didn't even have the time to process her words and the shock that they had caused when she suddenly moved your underwear to the side and grabbed your ass tightly to lift your hips and get a taste of you, moaning exaggeratedly at her now favorite snack. Despite the leg shaking orgasm you knew she would've easily gotten out of you with her mouth, you pushed the delicious thought to the side and firmly grabbed her hair to lift her from your center.

“Right now I need your cock balls deep in my pussy, not your mouth”

Her lips looked way too delicious as they glistened with your juices and as they curled up she suddenly left go of your ass, making you yelp as you fell back to your lying position, before grabbing your thighs and pushing them to each of your sides, waiting for you to keep them there yourself with your arms to fully open yourself up for her. From the position you had a clear view of her strap as she rubbed it over your wet folds before finally pushing its head inside of you. She could never get enough of seeing your reaction at her entering you for the first time and once again, she couldn't help but keep her eyes on your face from the first moment. She fucked you just with the tip for a bit in order for you to get used to her and, gradually pushed more and more inside as you rubbed your own clit. You knew you were very far away from everybody else, but you still tried your best to keep your volume as low as you could, making her smirk at the clear signs of your struggle to do so.

“More, go faster”

She loved it every time when your uptight, moralist voice turned in a second into the pathetic begs of her own cockdrunk whore and who was she to give up the chance of fucking her personal pussy when she asked for it? After lifting up her hoodie a little to get a better view of your center begging to be filled up more and more, she firmly grabbed your waist, gradually thrusting faster and harder until she had set a pace that knocked your breath away every time she pushed her hips forward and her tip stroked your g spot so deliciously a deep sensation quickly started to build up inside of you. Her flexed abs and veins popping up on her hands made the pleasure she was making you feel, become even stronger, getting your orgasm closer by the second. It honestly amazed you how fast she was always able to make you cum and, despite not wanting to show her any weakness, you admittedly always felt a little self conscious because of it. You could barely keep it anymore, though, it was going to happen in a matter of seconds and your mouth opening in shock told her everything she needed to know.

“Wait, I think I'm gonna-”

You didn't have the chance of finishing your sentence before an earth shattering orgasm hit you so strongly that small, clear droplets spilled out of you every time she pulled back.

“Holy shit”

She panted the words to herself before swiftly pulling out completely and quickly rubbing her fingers over your clit, making you moan loudly as you squirted even more for her while you rode out your orgasm. By the time you were done, your legs were a little shaky and you were almost sobbing from how intense and quick it all was. Once you looked back at her, though, you knew you would've gladly done it as many times as she wanted. Her abs were a little wet from your orgasm, with a couple of drops still lingering on her tattooed skin, and, once your eyes locked with hers, she looked like the most dangerous predator eyeing its prey, ready to eat it in one bite, and, god, wasn't she going to do exactly that.

After all, maybe Thanksgiving was actually going to be even better with her.

.

.

.

Tags: @fxckmiup @natashasilverfox @dmenby3100

[recklesssturniolo]

Bad Listener - M.S

dom!Matt, degrading, based on req that Matt catches reader masturbating and they both had an agreement not too

A/N: idk how I feel about this one if y’all don’t like it I’m jumping off a cliff

NSFW BELOW, leave if you’re a minor

Matt had told me he was coming over about an hour and a half ago, it took him less than ten minutes to drive to my house so it was beyond me how he wasn’t here yet, and the fact he wasn’t answering any of my texts or calls.

I had told him I needed him, badly, but the longer I had to wait the more frustrated I became. Going through the videos of Matt jerking off and dick picks he’d previously sent only turned me on more. Sighing that I still hadn’t heard from him, I decided to take care of my problem myself.

Playing the videos, I play with my clit to the sound of his groans, his whimpers and the sight of him coming all over himself, moans of my own escaping my mouth.

“Am I interrupting something?”

I shoot up, my eyes making contact with Matt’s.

“Yeah actually you were. Since you can’t show up on time apparently I’m dealing with my issue on my own” I glare back.

“Sucks. Pretty sure we have an agreement to not do exactly what you’re doing, so pathetic you couldn’t even try to wait?” He replies, “Mm and you’re touching yourself to videos of me. Fuck you really are a needy whore aren’t you?”

I stay silent. Trying desperately to compose myself as his words only cause me to grow hornier. Before I know it, Matt grabs my legs and pulls me down to the end of the bed, effortlessly swiping his fingers up my folds.

“Matt” I whine.

“So wet” He smirks, placing his fingers in his mouth and using his tongue to lick my juices off of them.

“Matt please” I repeat.

“What? You want to be treated like the whore you are?” He asks.

“Yes yes” I reply.

I hear a small chuckle before he gets down onto his knees, looking up at me before circling his two fingers around my entrance. My back arches at the sensation, despite how little it was.

A gasp falls from my mouth as he slams his fingers into me. His pace immediately fast and his fingers curled slightly.

“Holy fuck” I moan.

Matt doesn’t respond, instead he lowers his head and attaches his tongue to my clit and beginning to flick it. My pleasure only increasing as he toyed circles around it and sucked on it.

“F-feels so good Matt” I whimper.

“Such a fucking slut, look how easy it it for me to have you already close to coming on my fingers” He mumbles, his voices sending vibrations throughout my body as his lips stayed on my pussy.

My back arches as he continues, his tongue devouring every inch of me. My climax continuing to creep closer as he did.

“I’m - I’m gonna come fuck please” I stutter.

“Not a chance. You think after being such a little whore you’re gonna get to come that easily?” He asks, “Get on your knees, show me just how much of a whore you really are”

Doing as he said, I undo his belt before pulling down his boxers and pants. A quiet moan leaving at my mouth as I watch his dick smack his stomach, and the pre come leaking from it.

I swirl my tongue around his tip, his hand immediately grabbing the back of my hair. I begin taking a small amount of his dick into my mouth.

“Don’t act like you can’t take all of it” He growls, his hand pushing slightly on the back of my head.

I slowly take all of him inside my mouth, bobbing my head as I tried to fight off the gags from his dick hitting the back of my throat.

“There you go, now you’re listening” He groans.

I was sure at this point I was dripping onto the floor, looking up at Matt and viewing his jaw dropped open and his head tilted back.

I feel Matt push my head harder, my pace picking up as he did. Tears now streaming down my face from how hard his dick was hitting the back of my throat.

Grabbing me by my hair, my pulls me away, tilting my chin up to look up at him, “Might be a fucking slut but god you look so good on your knees for me”

“I need you fuck, please” I say. My pussy throbbing for him.

“On the bed, legs open” He instructs.

Instantly I get up and position myself on the bed as he said to. Him grabbing my face and roughly kissing me before grabbing my legs and putting them over his shoulders. I feel him push himself into me but only slightly before pulling out again.

“No teasing, Matt please I need you inside of me” I whine.

“So pathetic” He smirks before slamming himself into me.

A loud moan falls from my mouth as I feel him stretch me out, my legs over his shoulders only making the sensation better.

“Oh my god” I moan.

“Such a whore aren’t you? Taking me so well” He groans.

“I - yes” I mumble.

“Yes what huh?” He asks.

“Yes I’m a whore, fuck oh my god Matt feels so good” I answer.

I watch him smirk at my response before his grip tightens on my waist now pinching my skin, his pace fastening and the knot of pleasure in my stomach growing.

Continuing, whimpers and moans flew out of my mouth, my climax now begging to be released as I feel Matt’s dick twitch inside of me.

“Fucking hell, come with me, I can feel you clenching around me” He groans, his voice hoarse.

Immediately I let myself come, him filling me up as we both hit our highs. My back arching and my eyes clenched such as he continued to hit my g-spot, his groans now filling the room. His head bowed as he slowed his pace. He lowers my legs from his shoulders before taking himself out of me.

He looks at me intently, smirking before speaking, “Made such a mess all over me, you just keep proving how much of a whore you are”

TAGLIST: @sturnphilia @thatonekid536 @cupidsword @loveesiren @daddyslilchickenfingers @christinarowie332 @ilovemattsturn @its-jennarose @lovingsturniolo @iwantmattsobad @secret-sturniolo @soursturniolo @knowingnothingnoel @mwah0mwah @urmyslxt @sturniolosreads @yesterdaysproblem @freshloveforthefit @thecynthh @m4tthewsgf @meerkatzthings @creamoncreamoncream @avasturniolooo @ssturniolo92 @slut4chr1s @dev-speaks @freshlovehacker @chrisfavoritepepsi @mattnchrisworld @sturnioloenthusiast @mattsmidnights @ashleighpray23 @leah-loves-lilies

[blackypanther9]

If you had a girlfriend and came out to Alastor – Father!Alastor x Teen!Daughter!Reader

To Anon: Hi there, Nonny ! You see I did some research and apparently in the roaring 1920s there was a “Pansy Craze” (a period of increased LGBT visibility In American culture and New Orleans belonged to the USA since 1803, so it could have also affected them in my researches). From the 1920s to 1933 people from the LGBTQ community performed on stages in Cities around the world. So I thought, maybe they knew and I decided to make a TWO in ONE Oneshot, just to make it a bit fair. One where Y/n found out she was lesbian when she was alive and one when she was in Hell. Just in case someone wants a Human Version too. I hope that is not an issue for ya ! ^^’  Without further ado and my nerdy, scraping over the surface knowledge....I hope you enjoy this Oneshot and I hit your expectations with this ! QwQ

TAGLIST: @meg-giry1 @wen01203

(Drawing belongs to rightful owner)

Words: 6 864

Human Version:

You were nervous beyond belief. Why ? Your Father, Alastor Hazbin, the infamous Radio Host, wanted to meet your Lover. Many would be excited, of course, but your case was different. VERY different. Your Father assumed that your Lover was a man, that you somehow got without him knowing, but it was a woman...just like you. You were so very scared of your Father’s reaction.

For weeks you could hide it from him, your dirty little secret. At least you hoped you could, but he knew you were sneaking out a lot, lying into his face with where you went, you were bad in lying. He could read you like an open book.

For three years you knew that you were a lesbian. Men never interested you in any way that would have screamed love. But females ? You saw one once and she was so pretty that your heart started to do flips, when you talked to a pretty girl, you would stutter which you usually never did. These signs were enough for you, to test something and the results showed, that you were indeed...attracted to woman. Your own gender. Fuck.

Your beloved partner, took your left hand into her own, gently. You looked at her and she gave you a smile, to try and encourage you. After you finished your test, by asking her out, just to test a theory, the two of you became actual Lovers and you were happy, just sneaking around and stealing kisses. Now this could all end abruptly. You took a deep breath. You tightened your hold on your Lover’s hand, to ground yourself.

“Here goes nothing...”, you muttered.

You lifted your hand and knocked at the door of your home. Alastor practically locked you out and said he will only let you back inside again, if you let him meet your Lover. No talking yourself out of it.

So you went to her place a scared mess and explained the whole situation. She calmed you down and agreed to go instantly. The faster this is over and done with, the less you can work yourself up about it.

The door swung open and the face of your Father greeted you both, big smile on his face, which dimmed as he saw you and your partner, assuming she was just your friend.

“Cher...who is this ?”, your Father asked, never having met your Girlfriend before.

You took another deep inhale, while your Lover continued to hold your hand and squeezed it affectionately, supporting you the best she could.

“D-Dad...C-can we c-come in ?”, you asked in a nervous stutter.

Alastor looked at you both in concern, knowing this was something heavy and serious to you, so he stepped aside and let you both enter the house. You both just stood in the living room after you took off your shoes. Alastor gestured to the couch, while he went to the kitchen to make some tea and a coffee for himself.

The both of you sat down and you started to shake and sweat. Your partner gave you an affectionate hug.

“Calm down, Love. I’m sure he won’t hate you.”, your Girlfriend said softly.

You looked at her, shaking like a leaf.

“W-what if he...disowns me...? I-I just want his support. W-what if he won’t...accept me ? Accept you ? Accept us ? I love you, but I also love him. I don’t want to lose my Papa. He raised me for years, Darling.”, you whispered shakily.

She hugged you tighter and ran her fingers through your hair, kissing your cheek.

“Don’t draw crosses on the walls just yet, Love. You told me so many stories about your Dad, that I am almost certain, that he will at least try and adjust to this. You said he always made sure that no man will hurt you, never let any of them take you out on a date...maybe he will be glad you are not into men anyways.”, she tried to comfort you.

You looked at her and kissed her lovingly. She really was your rock right now. You were so scared and nervous, that you didn’t even think of that possibility. Your Pa was always gentle with women, but rarely with men. Maybe he will accept this... Hopefully...

Soon enough Alastor returned with two cups.

“I made Peppermint tea. I hope it will calm you down, Cher. You look ready to bolt away and cry.”, your Father said gently and set the two cups down in front of you and your Lover.

“Th-thanks...Papa...”, you got out.

He saw how much you shook. You looked like you were about to cry for hours and it worried him deeply. Did something happen ? Was your friend with you, because your Lover decided to dump you ? Was he abusive ? Did Alastor have to go on another killing spree ?

He returned with his cup of Coffee and sat down in his armchair. He looked at his daughter with worried eyes, still filled with adoration and love for his little girl.

“Mon ange (My Angel), what happened ? Why are you so nervous ?”, your Father asked gently.

Your Lover squeezed your shoulder gently, encouraging you to come out to him.

“Y-you wanted to m-meet my L-Lover...right, Papa ?”, you stuttered out, wringing your hands in an aggressive manner.

Your partner took your hands into hers and squeezed them, trying to avoid it that you hurt yourself. Alastor nodded.

“Did he hurt you ? Do I have to get police involved ?”, he asked you.

You shook your head and then clammed your mouth shut. Your anxiety was skyrocketing.

“Drink a sip of your tea, Cher.”, your Father suggested gently.

You shakily reached out for it and as you took it, Alastor saw how violently you shook. You almost spilled your drink while you sipped on it. After you sipped enough, you felt a bit calmer, but still very scared. You looked at your partner, who nodded and gave you and encouraging smile.

You looked at your Father again, took a deep breath and then tried to not look so scared. He admired your urge to try and act fearless, but he knew how spooked you are, so he didn’t understand, why you steeled yourself so.

“Pa...I never courted a man.”

Relief and confusion rushed through him at that. No one hurt his little girl, then why were you so scared and here with your friend ?

“Then why are you so spooked, mon petit (My little one) ?”

“I...I said I never courted a man...I didn’t s-say that I was-wasn’t courting someone though, Papa...”

Your hands were clammy and sweaty, the urge to run, cry and vomit was so strong. But SHE grounded you. Your Lover grounded you. This was your Dad. He was always there for you. He might understand... You hoped.

“Then who are you courting, Cher ?”, Alastor asked a bit confused.

You took another deep breath, griped your partner’s hands tighter in your own, sat up straighter pushing your chest out a bit to try and show your confidence and gave your Father a determined look. He was surprised by how strong you try to be now, as if he will yell at you any second.

“Papa...You wanted me to introduce you to my beloved. I introduce you to my Lover. Her name is GF/n and she makes me happy.”, you blurted out, looking from her to your Father again.

His eyes were wide, his smile closed. His eyes swapped from you over to your Lover, then back to you. He looked at his Coffee.

“Am I really drinking Coffee right now ?”, he asked himself.

“You are, Papa. I’m serious.”, you told him, voice a bit weaker, lacking some confidence.

He looked at you again and your Lover.

“How long has this been going on ?”, he asked you, his voice a bit...off sounding.

You started to freak out on the inside, your confidence falling apart. He didn’t take it well, did he ? He is angry... He will kick you out. He will yell. He will shout. He will disown you. He will-

Your Lover squeezed your hand gently and you looked at her. She gave you her charming smile again, nodded gently and flicked her eyes from you to your Father, motioning you to answer him.

“We...we have b-been together fo-for...6 w-weeks.”, you stuttered out.

Alastor looked at you and set his Coffee down, not drinking it at all. He leaned forward.

“How did it start ?”, he asked.

“I-it started as an ex-experiment, r-really. We-we didn’t ex-expect the re-results...”

“Cher, stop stuttering so much. Now, tell me what experiment that was.”, he pressed.

He was actually curious, but his little girl was such a mess. Maybe he sounded a bit...cross ? He really didn’t mean to come off like that, but he was still processing all of it and he wanted to know everything, to see if you were forced into this or not.

You suddenly clammed your mouth shut, looking away, scared. You couldn’t say it, you weren’t brave enough. You tapped your Lover’s thigh gently, telling her to tell him. You were unable to.

She looked at your Father and lifted her hand softly, catching his attention.

“If I may...Y/n’s nerves are all over the place, which made her shut down on us. If you wish, I can tell you how it happened, what the experiment was about, Sir. Only if you wish to. Y/n...she is very nervous and scared.”, your Lover said.

He crooked his head to a side.

“Why would she be nervous and scared ?”, he asked.

“Well Sir, as you may know...not many approve of people like us. I tried to encourage her that you won’t be angry with her. I mean...she told me many stories about you and they were all good, you two barely argued about serious matters, you protect her from many things, you help her out with many things, which she returns as a favor and more. I tried to tell her that you most possibly won’t disown her, for being attracted to the same gender. Now that the cat is out of the bag, she is afraid what your reaction will be.”

He leaned back into his armchair and looked at you. So you were scared that he will yell at you...or worse. He sighed gently and looked at your partner, gesturing for her to tell him what the experiment was about. She nodded.

“Your daughter noticed small signs of her...sexual attractions. She was never interested in men, which she found odd, because no matter what type of man walked up to her, she found no interest or appeal in them, but with women...it seemed different. Quicker heartbeat, stuttering, finding interest in some women, finding them pretty in a different, less appropriate way...you name it. One day she met me and she wanted to experiment around with me. I work in a small bar and some knew that I was just like your daughter, not interested in men, but women. She heard about it and she found interest in me, so she asked me if I would be willing to help her in her own experiment. I agreed and we started to go out together a few times, each time it was beautiful. The more we continued her experiment, the more we fell in love with each other, until she asked me, formally, if I would do her the honors to court her. She was so shy and adorable about it too, some flowers, a package of chocolates and a small handmade scarf. I said yes and we have been courting formally for 6 weeks now.”

Alastor looked at her very interested as he heard her side of the story. You smiled gently at the memory, blushing slightly. Your Father noticed, but decided not to point it out. His smile didn’t drop, but it was a bit more genuine. He looked at you again.

“Cher, how long have you known, that you were interested in women ?”, he asked gently.

You wiggled around on the couch, uncomfortable.

“W-well, with all the signs I had...I suspected it already. If we would go only after the time I assumed this case, then it would be three years by now. When it was fully confirmed...since three months now. I experimented around with GF/n for two months, before I asked for her courtship.”, you answered, still awaiting his shouts and anger.

You were surprised as you heard your Father chuckle in amusement. You looked at your Father and saw his genuine smile, warmth and love in his eyes.

“Now, Cher, why would you ever assume that I would yell at you, for finding Love ? It may be frowned upon in the open, but for Heaven’s sake, if you love her, then you love her. What’s the big fuss about anyways ?”, he said with warmth in his voice.

“Wait...so you...you support me ?”, you asked with shyness.

“Indeed I do ! If she makes you happy, then who am I to stand in your way of your Love life, Cher ? You may be my child, but I am not controlling your life and what you fall in love with. Look at me, Cher ! I am not even married, never found the right one for me ! Hahaha !”

A big smile grew on your face. Your Lover smiled happily as she saw you light up, which also made your Father smile wider. He stood up and opened his arms for you.

“Come here, mon petit.”, he said.

You got up and ran into his arms, hugging your Papa tightly. He wrapped his arms around you too and swayed a bit back and forth, something that comforted you all the time. Happy tears escaped your eyes.

“I love you so much, Papa. You are the best.”, you said into his chest.

He smiled warmly at that and looked at your partner. He opened one of his arms and smiled gently.

“Come on, join in !”, he encouraged her.

She got up and joined into the hug. You felt so full with love and affection from the two people that meant the world to you.

“But just so you know, GF/n...you hurt my little Angel and you will have to answer to me.”, Alastor threatened.

Just because your Lover is a woman, doesn’t that mean he will be nice, if she breaks your heart. He will kill her and you knew that. You knew that you had to make sure you can trust her with that information, so she won’t spill. Because if anything happened to either of you, your Father would make sure they will be dead.

She would find out eventually, so you needed to make sure that she can be trusted with this.

Alastor would look after you and your Lover.

He fully supports you two.

If you would ever want to marry, he would give his blessing.

If the two of you ever argue and you tell your Dad, he will try to help you both sort everything out. He would calm you down and then talk with your beloved, to try and get you two back together and whoever was in the wrong, would get a scolding from him.

Your Father would never force you to marry a man for reputation, status or anything else, not even to cover up your relationship with your beloved.

If someone ever forces themselves on either of you, he will kill them, you just need to tell him.

If anyone finds out about it and wants to use it to their advantage to break you two apart, soil your names or even force one of you to marry them and have children, he will murder them in the most brutal way possible.

He will never arrange marriages with anyone for your hand, no matter what. He rather dies.

If anyone that was close to him knows about your sexual attractions and tells Alastor, he would kill them, after proudly admitting that he knew and supported it. He only left those alive, that didn’t mind it and were happy for you, just as he was.

He would fully support you and your significant other to adopt a child, if you two felt ready for it. He would even gladly help you two out.

At some point the three of you would sit down and Alastor would confess with you that he was the Bayou Killer.

Your Lover would swear secrecy and help if they needed it, after hearing that Alastor only killed those that deserved it. She also might have admitted that she already knew with the few kills that happened to certain men that harmed the both of you.

After Alastor would die, the two of you would continue his work and keep your children safe, if you have any. Otherwise it is to protect each other and other people that were innocent and would get tainted otherwise.

When the two of you die and land in Hell, you would actively hunt down your Father, while he did the same. His Father senses would immediately pick up on your arrival in Hell and he would start a search party.

You would all happily live together and catch up on what you missed from one another’s lives. You three would never split again and Alastor would help the both of you to become Overlords.

Hell Version:

You had no idea that you were lesbian, when you were alive. You just always believed what your Father told you. That you hadn’t found “The right one” yet, like him. But it was so much more complicated.

If you thought back to the past, you should have realized it way sooner. How you felt drawn to other females, how you were suddenly such a mess when you talked to a beautiful woman. You never felt attracted, nor interested, in men when you were alive. Yu thought you were straight, but actually...you were homosexual.

Just to make sure, you started to date a Demoness, behind your Father’s back. After all....what would he think of you, if you got together with a Demoness ? A darn woman ? You didn’t really wanted to find out.

The Demoness you dated was beautiful. She was caring, loving and sweet to you too. She didn’t give a fuck who you were to the public, nor who your Father was in public. Sure, she was hesitant when you approached her and told her about who you were and who your Father was, but she still accepted to help you with figuring your sexual attractions out.

The more you two bonded, the more you two fell in love with one another. You shared stories with her about your Father, which made him sound like an absolute Sweetheart in private, so she was more intrigued to meet him one day, than scared. You said you want to keep it a secret from him, which she softly agreed to, seeing your worries. But...all things must come to an end... Which lead you to a few months later.

You never told your Father, you were sneaking around. The two of you worked in the Hazbin Hotel and you would usually just sneak out at night, when the Hotel was closed, without your Father interrogating you.

You were scared beyond belief, by just thinking of telling him that you are a lesbian. He accepted Charlie and Vaggie as a pair, sure, but none of the two were HIS kids. You were his Daughter and he probably expected better of you, than to fall in love with the same gender as you.

Who was your Father ? Alastor, the Radio Demon.

You knew that your Father was an Ace, or better an AroAce, you found that out a while ago with Rosie by your side. He was never straight. He was Aromantic and Asexual, which, honestly, didn’t help you to be brave enough to tell him that you were Homosexual. It actually made it even harder.

Your Dad doesn’t even know he was an AroAce and he still had no idea what that term even meant. Rosie told him only once that he sounded like and AroAce and he asked her what that was supposed to mean. She never elaborated and you felt awkward telling him, so you didn’t.

The day had been stressful and you were already looking forward to sneaking out that night, just to see your Lover, GF/n. You just wanted to cuddle with her and tell her all about your stressful day, then fall asleep in her arms.

It was 1 in the morning ad you decided to leave. You left your room and tiptoed through the halls, to the stairs, tiptoed downstairs and then to the front door. You left quickly and quietly. You didn’t use your powers, because your Dad would have picked up on it and then could have tracked you down.

What you didn’t know, was that you weren’t as sneaky as you hoped. Alastor knew you were sneaking around at night and that night he sent his shadow after you, to spy, while he read a book in his room. He was concerned what you did at this unholy hour and why you didn’t tell him.

You walked for a while, until you were in Zestial’s turf. Then you stopped at a house and climbed through an open window, landing in the living room. You looked around and then closed the window gently, sneaking into the hall and then up the stairs, stopping at a door, opened it and entered. Inside the room, was your Beloved, reading a book. She stopped reading and looked up, smiling happily as she spotted you, which made you smile brightly too.

She closed her book, put it on her nightstand and got up. She rushed over and hugged you tightly, which you returned.

“Love ! How are you ?! You are late, I was worried you won’t come over today !”, she chirped, happily.

You chuckled and squeezed her gently.

“My Father was a bit longer than usual in the main Lobby and I can’t use my Magic to sneak off, he would track me down, Love. I’m so sorry.”, you answered her.

“It’s okay ! So ? How was your day ?”, she asked and lead you to her bed to sit down, next to her.

You groaned.

“Stressful. I don’t know how Father managed today, honestly ! Charlie had us all running around like headless chicken and the new exercises she wanted to do, were so many at once and so chaotic ! To top it all off, Pentious’ egg boiz blew holes into the ceiling and almost destroyed the roof ! Angel decided to get so wasted that he kept bothering my Father, who was close to blow a fuse and Vaggie is still staring daggers at me, because I am brutally honest with Charlie ! To end my charming day, I was left with a lot of paperwork, from Vaggie, for talking her Girlfriend down, even though I just tried to help and be honest ! It was the double amount my Father had gotten !”, you complained.

Your Lover frowned at that and started to sit behind you, massaging your shoulders, who were stiff and tense. You sighed and hummed, as she tried to loosen up your muscles.

“That really didn’t sound good. Nor is that Vaggie fair. She needs to understand that her partner also needs harsh reminders about reality. She is the Princess of Hell, but she is way too kind to get anywhere. She isn’t using her authority, nor her Power to make people stop seeing her as a joke. Coddling her won’t help her.”, your Beloved said gently.

“That is what I told her TWICE this week ! She doesn’t give a fuck ! Everyone is making fun of Charlie and she still coddles her, instead of telling her to be a bit more aggressive ! If this continues then they can shut down the Hotel entirely !”, you groaned.

She continued to massage your sore muscles and hummed gently.

“How is your Dad fairing, Love ?”

“He is managing better than me, I can tell you that. I was about to blow a fuse as Vagatha threatened me with her spear and cussed at me in Spanish. He was just so close to blow one today, that he decided to hide in his room and get to work on the papers, he is assigned to. Sometimes I am at a loss that he can still keep his smile up ! In his eyes stood pure annoyance today, while in mine was rage to see that I barely kept at bay ! Honestly, at this point I am unsure if I want to keep helping ! I just get backlash anyways !”, you scoffed.

Your Lover hugged you tightly from behind, calming down your boiling anger.

“I feel so bad for you two, Love.”, she said softly.

You sighed.

“There is not one day where we have some peace and quiet. How am I supposed to come up, with a speech, like that ?”, you said in defeat.

“You actually plan to tell him ?”, your Beloved asked you gently.

“I can’t hide this from Papa forever. I am surprised that I got away until now. But I have zero time to ready myself for the possible heartbreak I will go through.”, you muttered out.

She let go of you and kissed your neck.

“I think he will accept you still, even if you are...different.”, she tried to cheer you up, “After all, he accepts Vaggie and Charlie too, right ?”

“Hun, that is different.”

“How so ?”

“Vaggie and Charlie are not his children. I am his Daughter and I feel like I will disappoint him, when I tell him that I know now....why I was never interested in men. Yes, my Papa can be very laid back about a lot of things, mostly when it is me. But that doesn’t mean that he is alright with everything that I do and say. You have to remember that we lived in the 1920s, he lived through the late 1890s until the early 1930s, while I lived in the late 1910s to the late 1940s. Anything besides being straight was heavily frowned upon back then. Either you were straight, or you were a dysfunctional human being to the society.”, you reminded her.

“And you think your Dad will hate you for being...you ? He is an AroAce, that is what you said, with the Overlord of Cannibal Town, Rosie.”

“Cher, he has no idea what an AroAce even is.”

“Wait...none of you told him ?”, she asked in shock.

“Rosie didn’t elaborate, hoping he would research the terms himself, now that he has a label on him that he doesn’t know the meaning of and it was too awkward to me, to tell him. He always thought that he just didn’t find the right person. Imagine his world falling apart when he finds out that he was AroAce the whole time. I didn’t want him to have a breakdown about it. I can only imagine how sad he would be.”

“Now, now. Just because he is AroAce, doesn’t that mean he is incapable to be happy.”

“I know, but...at some points he HATES being different from others. I know so. I was there and at nights he thought I was asleep, he was crying. GF/n...he was hurting often and hid it behind a smile. Earth wasn’t kind to him...nor is Hell. He tries to hide it, but I know his big heart. I know that he is hurting even more and I am worried about him. He is my Papa, I love him very much. I hate to see him hurting so much.”

She gave you a sympathetic look and then a kiss on your cheek. You looked away and took a deep breath.

“As much as he would HATE to hear it...I wish he would have gone to Heaven after death. Heaven would have been kinder to him, he could have reunited with Grandma and...he would be carefree now. Here in Hell...he has to be the opposite. Hide behind smiles, show no weaknesses, be coldhearted...All this...isn’t my Papa. He is a very kind soul, but he can’t show it. And I hate that so much. He is always full of worries and fears, but he never lets anyone know. Not even me. It frustrates me, because I can see the pressure he is trying to carry on his own shoulders, all alone. He refuses help and he tries to do everything alone. He is going under in all the stress he tries to hide, he is suffering so much from it that it makes him a little crazy. I have no idea how to help him out.”, you vented.

“Have you ever asked him ? Spoken about these matters ?”

“I tried. Every time he avoids the subject ! He shuts down as soon as I try to get him to talk to me, so I can help and don’t have to watch, helplessly, how he slowly falls apart !”

Alastor’s smile was small and strained. You knew that he was very troubled. He thought he hid it well from you. He should have known that you could read him easily. After all, you grew up around him, as his Daughter.

But now a lowlife Demoness knows this too, the one you vented to. That won’t do...

He still didn’t pick up on you being Lovers. He couldn’t look through his shadow’s eyes, only listen in. He had to go and kill her when he has time.

“I tell you what. Tomorrow, I will come over to the Hazbin Hotel for a visit. You and I will tell him together about you....issue and then we try to make him open up about his own problems. It is not healthy to carry all your troubles on your own. You always need others to be stronger. Your Pa is making himself an easy target. The mind is a fragile thing, even down here.”

“Are you sure that he won’t...hate me ?”

“You told me so many stories about him and what a Sweetheart he can be in private, that I am determined to say that he won’t hate you. I am 100% sure he will still love you.”

Alastor tuned out after that, already planning her death, while the two of you made out and then decided to go to sleep.

-The next day-

You teleported back to the Hazbin Hotel, appearing in your room, after you gave your Lover a kiss. Venting to her yesterday helped you immensely. You took deep breaths, to calm down and then got ready for the day.

Charlie had you running some errands to get food stocked up, which took you a few hours. As you returned you were just informed that Charlie needed you to fill out important formulas for the Hotel, as the door opened. Everyone turned to the door in the Lobby and saw your Beloved.

“Oh my gosh ! A new guest ! Hello, I’m Charlie ! Do you want to get rehabilitated ?!”, she swarmed your Beloved and not letting her come to word.

“Actually, she is here to visit me.”, you said, coldly, to Charlie, not liking her hands on your Lover’s shoulders at all.

Charlie’s smile dropped and she sulked a bit.

“Oh...”

You approached them and pulled her into your embrace, giving Charlie a possessive glare, as you held your Beloved.

“Mine.”, you said.

Your Lover blushed and smiled brightly.

“Hun, please....”

“As if she would be willingly with you ! You are an Overlord and the Daughter of the Radio Demon ! You don’t have a heart that shows love ! What did you do to her ?!”, Vaggie accused and you glared at her, tightening your grip on your Beloved.

Your Partner glared at Vaggie.

“How about you shut your mouth, before I shut it for you, Vagatha ? Don’t you DARE to speak to me Beloved in that way !”, she snarled in anger.

Everyone stared in utter shock at the two of you. You smiled happily and kissed her cheek. As soon as you two parted from one another, your Father appeared in the Lobby. You looked at him in nerves, while your Lover kept a cool head.

“What is all this commotion about ?”, Alastor asked with a laughing track.

“Vagatha was a bitch towards your Daughter, is all, Sir.”, your Lover answered him politely, still glaring at Vaggie.

He looked at Vaggie.

“Is that so ?”, he asked dangerously calm.

Then he turned to your Lover again.

“And who might you be ?”

“My name is GF/n, a pleasure to meet you, Sir.”

“The pleasure is all mine ! The name’s Alastor, the Radio Demon !”, he greeted back happily.

Until now it seemed to go just swell. You cleared your throat.

“Papa...can we talk in private ? You, GF/n and I ? It is...urgent.”

“Why, of course, mon petit !”, he said happily and then teleported the three of you to his Radio Tower.

“So, what do you want to talk about, that is urgent ?”, he asked you.

You wrung your hands in nerves.

“W-well....you remember when we talked about my disinterest in men, when we were alive ?”, you asked nervously.

“I do, indeed ! I said you just didn’t find the right one yet ! Why ? Have you found him ?”

“W-well...it’s more...complicated, Papa...”

He cocked his head to the side in confusion.

“Oh ?”

“You see...I am...not straight...?”

Now he got nervous. What do you mean you are not straight ? He knows you meant that you aren’t Heterosexual, but what are you then, why are you so scared to tell him ?

“Continue...”, he said, his voice softer.

“I never noticed the signs when I was alive, Papa. I found it all out here in Hell and GF/n helped me to figure it all out. Along the process...we fell in Love and it had been going on for months now, we trust each other deeply, so please don’t be mad when I tell you that she knows about you a bit. I always snuck off at night, because I was scared you will be angry with my sexual orientation, so I wanted to keep it a secret until I knew how to approach you. The Hotel didn’t make it that easy and GF/n offered to support me today to tell you, because I vented to her all my worries yesterday and all my stress and Iamalesbian !”, you quickly ranted out, too nervous to speak calmly.

There was a deadly silence in the room, after you finished. Your Father was trying to catch up with everything you just ranted out so quickly. As his brain caught up with what you just confessed to him, there was a loud record screeching sound and he stared at you in shock.

“You are a WHAT ?!”, he asked in shock.

He wasn’t angry, just shocked that you found it out earlier than he did. He didn’t even know until now. You flinched.

“I...I am a Lesbian...Homosexual...”, you got out shakily now.

Your Father sprung up and rushed to you, before you could react and hide somewhere, he pulled you to his chest into a almost bone crushing hug, which shocked and surprised you.

“Oh, Cher, those are such WONDERFUL news ! You finally figured yourself out ! I’m so proud of you !”, he said happily.

“Wait...you...aren’t mad ?”, you asked in awe.

“Why would I be, mon diable (My Devil) ?! These are the best news I have ever heard ! You found love, my Dear ! And you found out your taste ! Who cares if you like the same gender ?! Why were you so afraid to tell me that ?”, he asked, his real voice coming out.

“W-well...we both lived in times where it was heavily frowned upon... I thought you wouldn’t be happy with me and so...I was too scared to tell you. I feared you would disown me...”, you said softly.

“Mon petit diable (My little Devil), I would never disown you, for being yourself. You don’t have to hide anything from me, Cher.”

He then looked at your Lover.

“Can I be assured that you won’t use anything you know against us ?”, he asked her.

“I would never want to hurt my Beloved. I love her with all my soul.”, she told your Father.

He hummed.

“Alrighty then. I am glad that I don’t have to kill you then, for knowing too much.”

“Daaaaaaaaaaaad !”, you moaned out annoyed.

“I had to make sure that she knows that she isn’t safe just because you two are courting.”, he defended himself.

“Don’t chase my Lover away, Papa !”, you scolded and smacked his right arm, playfully.

He chuckled.

“I would never, mon petit. Now ! Would anyone explain to me what in everything unholy and AroAce is ? And why I am supposed to be one ?”, he asked.

You shifted around uncomfortably.

“I will gladly do so.”, your Beloved answered and you all sat down.

Alastor would be shocked from the news.

He would be delighted to see you finally had a Lover.

Would be happy that you finally figured yourself out.

Would support you.

Alastor would be very protective of you and threaten your Lover that she isn’t safe from him, if she fucks up.

He would keep an eye out on you two.

He would never hate you for coming out to him.

Anyone tries to hurt you two, they will answer to him personally.

If the two of you argue, he will try to find the root of the issue and try very subtly to get you back together.

He would support the both of you through everything and anything.

Alastor would help your Beloved to become and Overlord after she proved herself to be worthy of you, to him.

If you two want a biological child, he will help you two out with his Magic. All he would need is a small doll, crafted to look how you want the child to look like and from each of you a vial of blood, then his Magic would do the rest and you would have a Hellborn child.

He would help you raise your kids and be a great Grandpa.

Alastor would rope Rosie in to be their Auntie. Best friends and all that, plus, Rosie loves kids.

If you want to ever marry, he would give you both the green light, as long as he can lead YOU to the altar !

If anyone has a problem with you two being together, let him know. He will gladly have a snack~

You would warm up to your Girlfriend/Wife and show his softer side to her, just give him time. After all he knows you want her to be treated like Family, he just wants to make sure that she is the right one for you.

He would fool around with your Beloved after he warmed up to her and get very protective of her, just like he was with you.

Alastor would help her out in surprising you with small to huge things.

He definitely would gossip with her about anything and everything, even talk about his past with her.

Your Father would put a lot of effort into getting to know her, her getting to know him and to bond with her.

Best Dad in the world, even if he planned to kill your Lover in the beginning.

A/N: I hope this is good and you won't be mad that I also made a Human Version ! At least then no one can demand for it, because it already exists. *Lol* Two flies with one smack !

Masterlist HERE !

[applcrumbl]

Seven Stages

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x Ex! Reader, JJ Maybank X Reader Warnings: Strong Language, Talk of Alcohol Author's Note: Do I smell a series? perhaps....

Summary: When your boyfriend Rafe leaves you for another woman, You find solace in JJ Maybank.

part i. shock.

There are 7 stages of grief. Shock, Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Testing, and finally, Acceptance. After your boyfriend of a year broke up with you for no apparent reason at all, it felt as if you’d never get past stage 5.

When Rafe told you that it was over, it was a blow to the stomach. The initial impact knocked the wind out of your lungs and left you frozen to the spot. You knew what he was like, you should have seen it coming, but that didn’t mean you hurt less.

“I’m sorry” he explained, staring into your impassive eyes, “But, It’s what is best,”

“Is it someone else?” you asked, the question was engraved in your mind, though you were scared to ask it.

Rafe was taken aback, “Don’t you trust me?” He accused.

“Tell me the truth, and I’ll answer that”

He hesitated, “Yes”

You didn’t say anything more and instead went to bed.

In all honesty, it didn’t feel like it had actually happened, and when you woke up the next morning you made two plates of scrambled eggs and bacon. 3 slices for Rafe, the way you knew he liked it. It hadn’t quite occurred to you yet, that he hadn’t spent the night. The lonely half-hour at your family’s breakfast bar is what made that apparent.

The plate was thrown at the wall, and a string of curse words tumbled out. You ripped the chain from your neck, tiny golden links and a wildly expensive pendant scattered along the floor. Never one for material things, you felt no guilt at the action. Though part of you wished you just sold it, or donated it. Even kept it as something to give back to him later - an excuse to see him again.

Rafe’s things got thrown haphazardly into a cardboard box and left beside the front door. Some clothes, a set of cufflinks and his favourite polo shirt. Along with the gift you were set to give him on his upcoming birthday.

You called him that night. It was supposed to be a quick phone call saying that he could come to collect his things from your house, but transformed into a full-blown argument. Screaming down the receiver, you called him every derogatory name under the sun. At that moment, you hated Rafe Cameron.

“Stop calling me, Y/N.” he would say.

“Stop being such a dickhead, and just talk to me!” you begged, “Why?”

“Y/N”

“Please”

The dial tone sounded. A noise that became all too familiar.

The depression came in quickly and stayed a while. The previous stages had flown past in a whirlwind, and now you were left to wallow in your feelings. Much less angry with Rafe and his wandering eyes, and much more upset with yourself for not being good enough. By the time you managed to pull yourself out of your bed, the news of the breakup had spread throughout Figure 8. The cut heard soon after, almost like a celebrity break-up so the small island of Kildare. Gaggles of giggling girls all made faces at you as you passed. Each ready to get their hands on the islands newest, and richest, eligible bachelor. Talk of your ex boyfriend littered every teenage social spot. Kook and Pogue alike.

You tried to phone your best friend Sarah. But, she never answered the call. Probably choosing Rafe’s side in order to keep the peace at home. She was his sister after all. So you were entirely alone.

That was 3 months ago. It was a fresh new year.

You’d moved on, completely skipping the 6th stage and moving on to acceptance. Rafe didn’t want to be with you, and that was fine. It was his choice. Besides, had you never gone through those stages of grief, you wouldn’t be where you are now. Your new boyfriend tapping on the edge of the fridge.

“What do you wanna eat, Babe?” JJ asked, head peering from the kitchen. 

“I’m not sure, what do we have in?”

With a hand resting on the top of the fridge, JJ peered inside. “Nothing interesting, I’ll go pick up something from the wreck then, yeah?”

“Your treat? Or am I just wishfully thinking?”

“I’ll pay you back in other ways?” he jokes, ghosting a kiss on your lips, “I love you.”

You rolled your eyes, giving him a sly smirk. You had money, he had none. But he made up for that in other ways, ways that Rafe never could. JJ left the house with another peck on your lips, almost tripping on the box that stayed gathering dust at the front door. Rafe’s things. Which he still hadn’t come to collect. 

They didn’t bother you anymore, you were just eager to see them gone. After all, JJ and you were due to move to your own condo late that week, and nobody wants to move their girlfriend’s ex’s things into their house. It was bad enough that they still sat there. And it was bad enough that JJ couldn’t stand Rafe at the best of times.But, he put up with it, for he knew that she was 100% with him. That Rafe was no longer even a whisper on her mind.

The night was a relaxing one, Sarah had finally spoken to you, a rambled apology about her absence. You brushed it off, she had to pick a side, and after all, Rafe was still her brother.

“But I’m not even fond of Rafe,” she said, “There is no excuse for ignoring you like I did”

The phone call was long and comforting. You hadn’t spoken to many people since the breakup, at least not those who inhabited the rich southern side of the island. You spent your time with JJ’s small group of friends. Plus, you knew that Sarah was skipping out on a potential date with Topper to talk to you instead. You insisted that she could go if she wanted, but you could practically hear her eyes roll through the phone.

“Who’s there?” a familiar voice slurred in the background, “is that Y/N?”

“She doesn’t want to talk to yo-”

Sarah’s protests were cut off by the drunken man who had grabbed the telephone and promptly pressed it to his ear. You could hear her struggle to ge her phone back, but understood her plight, knowing all too well how stubborn her brother was.

“Y/N?” the voice asked. “Baby is that you?” Rafe practically pushed Sarah from the bed as he fought to keep possession of the phone. Both hands clutching it in desperation. As if it were to dissipate into thin air.

“Hi Rafe.”

It was the first time you had spoken to him since stage 3, and you were surprisingly calm.

“I’ve missed you so much” he cried, voice wavering from both a mixture of the booze, and his emotions, “I fucked up, baby. I need you”

“How much have you had to drink?”

“That doesn’t change anything,” he argued, the letters in his words melting together. It was barely understandable. He was very clearly inebriated, and for someone who could so easily hold his drink, it was almost worrying.

The front door opened again, the vinegary smell of fish and chips wafting through to your nose. “I’m home” JJ called

“Can you hand the phone back to Sarah now, I have to go see JJ” You excused. Part of you wanted to just hang up, but a bigger part wanted to say goodbye to Sarah. She deserved that.

“Maybank? That Pougue?” Rafe asked, sounding much soberer. Almost angry. “Why the fuck are you with him?”

“He’s my boyfriend, Rafe. Now can you hand the phone ba-”

Your words fell on empty ears, however, as Rafe thrust the phone back into Sarah’s hands. Clicking the end call button as quickly as he would have answered it.

There are 7 stages of grief. Shock, Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Testing, and finally, Acceptance. After his ex-girlfriend had revealed the news that she’d moved on, with another man. Rafe started his cycle at stage 1.

[pablitogavii]

On her period

Summary: It's the first time you're on your period since you started dating and Pablo feels clueless on how to help you.

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x Reader

Warnings: cuteness overload!!

Pablo's POV

I woke up to the sound of alarm that signaled I needed to get ready for my morning recovery training session, confused for the lack of small body of my girl curled up next to mine.

She didn't have school this early, so why was she not in bed with me?

"Amor?" I sat up after stopping the alarm while running my hand through my messy hair. I saw a light inside the bathroom knowing that she must be there but wondering why she wasn't answering.

I got to my feet knocking on the bathroom door not wanted to disturb her but starting to feel a little worried.

"You can come in Pablo!" she said in quite a frustrated voice and I opened the door seeing her frantically looking for something.

"Mi amor, what's going on? Why are you up so early? And what are you looking for?" I said trying to stop her but she just kept moving back and forth searching around the bathroom.

"My pain medication! I think I left it in my makeup bag but it's not here! And I really need it!" she was flustered and her eyes were glossy like she was on the verge of crying.

"Baby, it's in the living room. You let me borrow some after the muscle I pulled during training, remember?" I remind her and she quickly turns to look at me before smiling and running to the living room frantically. She must be in some serious pain...but from what?

I followed after her seeing her drink some water with a pill in the kitchen before walking back towards me now less worried but still pretty flustered.

"Um..I'm okay now..or I'll be when medication starts to work" she said and I smiled pulling her into a hug she happily accepted burying her face into my neck.

"What's hurting you, mi amor?" I ask and she pulls away shaking her head before walking away from me back towards our shared bedroom. Why was she hiding this from me?

"Y/n..what's hurting you?" I followed behind her laying back down next to her curled up body.

"It's nothing serious cariño. Shouldn't you get ready for training?" she said and I smirked pulling her down while kissing her lips passionately..gosh I loved to do that first thing in the morning.

For first few minutes she looked fine smiling and kissing me back but after that her face looked uncomfortable and she became unable to hide in how much pain she actually was..it was apparent and I wanted to know what was going on.

"Y/n you're clearly still in pain..tell me what's going on!" I said a bit harsher than I anticipated but this was making me really nervous.

"Díos! You're so annoying! Just go to your training and leave me alone!" she said and I got off her now really angry with the way she spoke to me when all I wanted was to know what's going on.

What's gotten into her this morning??

"I'll see you later tonight amor.." was all I said quite sadly knowing it will be shit day since I hated whenever we fought with each other which was so rare.

"Bye.." she whispered whining a few moments after while curling up in bed moving side to side as I left our shared apartment to meet Pedri who was giving me a ride to the camp.

"Hey, hermano! Que tal?" he asked and I buckled up sad to have left a house without kissing my girl like always. I checked my phone hoping to see her text but there was nothing, only the most adorable picture of us on my lock screen.

"The weirdest thing just happened just now..I woke up and Y/n was searching the bathroom for her pain medication..I helped her find it and when I asked what was hurting she avoided the question and told me to leave her alone?" I explained every detail confused to see Pedri's smile grow.

"¡Eres tan tonto! Your girl is on her period!" Pedri said and I opened my eyes wide finally understanding what was going on and feeling kinda stupid for not realizing it sooner.

"Why didn't she just tell me that?" I said and Pedri looked at me like I was a complete idiot.

"She was probably embarrassed...girls are confusing like that. They think we won't love them if they are on their periods." Pedri said and I rolled my eyes while grabbing my phone to check again if she texted me.

"Should I text her? She asked me to leave her alone...what if she gets angry?" I said and Pedri chuckled telling me to let her chill on her own until I get back home.

"How did you immediately know?" I said feeling embarrassed that I was so clueless.

"Pablito I know this is your first relationship, but I guarantee every single guy in our team would immediately guess too..." Pedri mocked and I hated that feeling a little embarrassed.

"No way! You're just weird! No guy would guess that" I said trying to make myself feel less stupid and he was determined to prove it to me...asshole!

"Ay chicos, if I tell you a girl is searching for her pain medication and refuses to tell her boyfriend what's going on..after telling him to leave her alone..what do you think is going on?" Pedri asked inside the changing room.

"She's on her period!" most of them say immediately and I roll my eyes at Pedri...whatever, I never had a girlfriend before to know!

"Mierda! What helps with..um..periods?" my cheeks were blushing and everyone teased me about it before sharing some advice.

"Don't get on her nerves, be extra careful and don't make fun of her cravings..even if they are silly" Lewy said first and I was taking mental notes really trying to learn as much as I could if that meant I could her my girl feel better later.

"Buy chocolates, they love those" Ansu added and De Jong agreed. I will buy her favorite dark chocolate with orange filling before going home after training.

"My girl usually loves to cuddle when she is on her period. And massaging her stomach might help with cramps which are kinda horrible btw chicos.." Araujo said before explain the little machine people made to simulate cramps.

"Reassurance, they get really emotional during their periods" Pedri added at the end and I nodded hoping to have memorized everything.

"Flowers, chico! Don't forget the flowers" Xavi overheard the conversation making me that much more embarrassed as he petted my head and told us all to hurry for the training.

Your POV

I felt horrible for yelling at Pablo earlier but it wasn't something I could control. I woke up with stabbing pain in my stomach signaling that my period started.

I felt pain mixed with frustration that I couldn't find my medication before cramps got too bad and I took that out of my boyfriend. There is no excuse and I wanted to apologize when he gets home.

I looked at my phone around the time his training ended getting out of bed finally and cleaning up a bit after a whole day of being in bed miserable.

"Amor?" I heard my boy's voice walking into the living room where he waited for me with a large bouquet of roses and that charming smile I fell in love with.

"Are those for me?" I said unable to stop tears from falling down my cheeks. Damn hormones!

"no no no..don't cry, preciosa..por favor..they said flowers would help" Pablo rushed to hug me and I nestled into his arms taking in his familiar scent I missed so much all day before finally realizing what he had said.

"They said?" I said after pulling away little amused when I saw his cheeks gettin red as he faced me with a guilty smile on his handsome face.

"I asked for advice from the boys about um..what to do when you..um..are.." he couldn't say it with a straight face and I found that so adorable. I couldn't believe he would ask his friends for advice just to make me feel more comfortable..this boy was definitely something special.

"on my period..? I finished also a little embarrassed but happy that we got that out of the way finally.

"yeah..and so I got you these flowers...and your favorite orange dark chocolate..I made Pedri drive to the edge of town for those and um some snacks if you crave them " Pablo opened the bag showing you everything he got while you smelled the beautiful roses in your arms.

"Pablo.." I put flowers on the table before walking up to him snaking my arms around his neck while his instinctively rested on my waist as he looked down at me worried that he did something wrong..so precious.

"Yes, mi amor?" he said with a small pout and I smiled up at him.

"I love you..." I said and he kissed my lips lovingly before pulling me onto the couch saying that we are going to have a cuddling movie night which sounded perfecto to me.

"Which one preciosa? Your choice." he said going to the romantic comedies section knowing how obsessed with them I am and I felt so special knowing how much he hates to watch them but still wants to for me.

"This one!" I pointed and he played it pulling me closer and letting me get comfortable in his embrace as the move started playing.

In the middle of the movie, I started to feel cramps return but I tried to hide it until I could letting a small whimper leave my lips. Pablo immediately paused the TV turning to look at me.

"Tell me what you need amor" he said and I smiled asking if he could being me another pain medication and some chocolate since I was really craving it.

I went to the bathroom meanwhile returning to everything waiting for me and my boyfriend smiling and opening his arms for me to join him.

"Thank you cariño, you're the best boyfriend en todo el mundo" I said after taking my medication grabbing a box of chocolate before returning to my previous position.

Pablo's POV

I could tell that she was still in pain and I remembered Araujo talking about massages being really helpful with cramps. I slowly moved my hand underneath her shirt starting to rub her stomach gently at first but then applying a little more pressure while looking at her face to see if it was doing anything at all.

Her eyes were closed and she rested her head on my shoulder while breathing heavily but still not stopping my movements. I took that as a sign that it was helping so I continued to do it for awhile.

"Does that help, preciosa?" I ask after awhile noticing that she became quite sleepy appearing a lot more comfortable than few minutes ago.

"Mmmm thank you mi amor" she said and I smiled turning off the TV as the movie ended before carrying her bridal style to bed.

"I have very special cure for those mean cramps" I said before joining her in bed and moving lower to leave kisses all over her belly making her chuckle and run her figners through my hair.

"Pablito? Um..could you lay your head on my stomach? I think it will help me fall asleep" she said shyly and I smiled nodding my head before laying down on her stomach while still massaging the lower parts gently hearing her sigh in relief.

I felt so proud in that moment for being able to do something to help my girl in these moments.

"I'm so sorry about this morning..you didn't deserve that and I was horrible" she said sadly and I looked up at her tearful eyes shaking my head and capturing her lips remembering the advice about reasurance.

"Mi amor, it's okay. I hate that you have to go through this..I wish I can take all your pain away for myself right now..and I am so proud of you for telling me what you need..my good girl" I said seeing her face lit up again as out lisp collided before I returned to lay on her stomach.

"Te amo mucho Pablito" she said and I smiled kissing her stomach once more.

"Yo tambien te amo, princesa mía.." I said wishing her a goodnight before feeling myself slowly falling asleep laid on her stomach with my arms wrapped around her protectively.

[pryllee]

Come and get me.

Content: Yandere/Stalker Ajax, Lil bit of a blowjob, Reader is switch, AFAB reader, "Healing" but its actually not, Masturbation, Toxic relationship, Both are lowkey obsessed, Public(?) sex, Nosebleeds, impregnation, name carving onto skin

Pair: Ajax x Fem! Reader

A/N: Bare with the writing if it's bad since I wrote this like last year, I recently privated it cus I thought it was prob kinda cringe but I lowk like the sex part...

----------------------------------------

part 1 / part 2 (coming soon)

Tears trickled down your cheek, his hand plastered to your neck as you felt him fill you to the brim, legs shaking in ectasy but also with fear. You were so unsure of what to think right now, Struggling to support yourself with your arms clenching onto the wrinkled sheets.

The way you spasmed around him was blissful, your moaning combined with whimpers was such a wonderful melody.

You wish you could fully enjoy it but you felt like a stress relief toy, nevertheless you loved being stretched out by his cock, wrapping around it as if you'd never feel it again.

And you really wished you never would, until now you try to fulfill it.

You ran away, obviously. Ahem, As I was saying, you ran away to a place in Liyue, and rented a small house with the bag of mora you stole from him while sneaking out.

But after a few years, you started to feel lonely, missing how he fucked you so hard, abusing your clit. He did it so often to you to the point you've gotten used to it and became hypersexual.

You hated it. You hated how you missed his touch. You hate how you know he never actually loved you but you tried to assure yourself he'd think about your own health one day.

Beads of water fell down your chin as you rubbed your clit, shoving fingers inside but it never felt enough, as each day passed, you felt yourself getting more and more needy.

Sometimes, you felt eyes on you. But you didnt care. And a few times, it'd feel intriguing to have someone watch you, especially if its him...

You have been hoping every year for him to come and find you, but you were met with disappointment everytime. But this is what you wanted, wasnt it?

Trying to hide this side of yourself fron your friends. "Hey xia..." You sat down, trying to act as normal as you can while clenching onto your thigh to relieve the need. "Hey! I'll get you something on the house this time! It'll be extra special too, after all you are my bestfriend!" She smiled happily, while going onto cook as you watched her from outside. Suddenly Hu Tao pops up scaring you once again.

"Hi! Heard there'll be something on the house, can I have some?" She exclaimed excitedly as Xiangling looked concerned for you and a little annoyed at Hu Tao, but decided to just take it as a joke anyway, "Coming right up!"

"Anyway, I'm gonna start some gossip now, Apparently a harbinger is here again on some business, They've been at every other nation already, I kind of expected this but do you guys maybe know why they're going to every nation especially here now?" She asked whilst smiling.

A harbinger?? Like a fatui harbinger? I wonder if its him... Hes probably forgotten about me by now. Its been years after all.

Your expression faded into a frown.

You had such mixed emotions about him, you love him but you dont, you always think about coming back to him but you're scared. You're scared of just being a stress relief toy again. You want to be something more than tha..–

"Uhm..." You snap from the train of thoughts, as you try to look at Hu Tao you notice someone is blocking the way.

...

"I cant believe we're meeting again! Perhaps fate wants us to be together..." Hu Tao gets up, and defends you by covering you with her arms wide open, "Im sorry, but who are you to her?"

"Shes right! How do you know [Y/N]?!" You felt your heart drop. But also feel a bit of sadness and guilt for him. Tears threatnening to spill like crazy as you try to hold them back. "Calm down, I'm just here to give her something." Cheerfully said, it made you feel disgusted. Nauseous, afraid, relieved. "Its fine...guys—Hes just..." I pause. I want to run away. Why cant I? Whats wrong with me? I hate myself. Im scared.

A few beads of water run down your cheek, as you hear him getting up, your friends completely confused as he wipes your tears, placing something in your hands as he walks away happily. "What the actual fu–" Xiangling rushes to put her palm over Hu Taos mouth. "I think she prefers to not talk about this... –She starts whispering in her ear– Who the actual fuck was that??" she looks at xiangling, an expression saying ’girl what.’

"Its fine, whens the food ready Xia?" The first words are shaky, with your heart thumping like crazy. Trying to calm yourself down, wiping your eyes. "Oh! It should be ready about now!" She stops the fire, Grabbing two plates getting it ready to be served. "Be careful, its super duper hot" She smiled "Xiangling... How much chilis did you add in mine?" Hu Tao smiled fakely with a sarcastic irk mark popping up "U–uhmm.." "GET OVER HERE!!!"

She yelled as she chased Xiangling who started running away. I stare confusedly, before turning to an item Ajax placed in my hands. You flushed red, but you couldn't tell why, because you've finally got your hopes fulfilled, or if you were embarrassed and scared. Ah, this feels repetitive somehow.

As you get home after spending some time with them, you open the box hurriedly he gave as soon as you plopped down on your bed. "Meet me at xxxx-xxx at 9 hihihi^⁠_⁠^" Beneath the note was a pair of lingerie. The box feels a couple of years old, is it because hes been looking for me... or perhaps Im getting my hopes up.

Should I go...? You stare at the ceiling, contemplating it as its already 7. "Its unbelivable he still writes in that shitty way." You chuckle... till you heard rustling from outside a window. You get up so fast, turning to the source. Walking to it while picking up a dagger on your nightstand.

Opening it, to find nothing, but a small camera that fell on a bush and got stuck. You felt sick. Now you were really sure you hate him. Or are you just denying your feelings again? Who knows anymore. You decide to go meet him and confront him.

The location is a fancy restaraunt, so you've also decided to look your best in hopes of meeting a handsome dude during it.

till you've realized after coming inside... he rented the entire place. He smiled, Head resting ontop of his hands, elbows against the table as he admires you.

Scanning your entire body even through the table. "I was expecting you to not show up, How lucky I am!" His cheeriness made you annoyed. "...Lets get to the point. Why did I find this outside my window?" You slam the camera down onto the table. He glances at it, his smile fading away, looking back at you with a dull expression. "Hm..." He placed his hand against his chin, trying to think of something.

Your mouth started to water at how hot he looked for a second as you felt that same need pop up again, blushing a bright red from embarrassment as you sit down, retreating your hand back. "Huh? Whats wrong with you all of a sudden?" To no avail, you dont respond, wiping your mouth. "Hmm... Come here." He pat his leg. Signalling you to come over and sit on his lap.

"Are you crazy? Why would I do that...?" You scoff, "Its not like you have a choice now that you came here, I'm sure you know I dont like resorting to force." "How about you make me?" He annoyingly stares. "You're really making me do it? Fine." He walks over, and you already start to regret it, getting up from your seat and walking to the other side from the table as him.

"I–Ill do it- I'll sit down." You shiver. "Well you're stubborn huh." He sits back down on his seat, Looking at you, and looking back at his lap. You shyly sit down on his lap, feeling scared as you can clearly see he brought a knife with him. One of his arms wraps around you, and the other slides down your thigh as you flush red.

"What if people see us?" Hes nips at your bare neck, making you shiver. Its been so long since you've done it. "Mhm..." He lets you off of his lap, and you start to feel disappointed. Till he signals to go down the table, Just what is he plotting? You decide to go down, its so dark under here,

After all there is a long white cover... you accidentally grab onto his knee, while almost falling down and you feel an arm pull you closer. "Suck it," He demanded. "Hurry up, I'm getting impatient." You gritted your teeth annoyed. You try to find it, and there it is, its practically begging to be let out, its bulging so hard.

You unzip his pants, finally letting it free, as you grip onto it, hearing him grunt a little. You stroke it a few times, Has it gotten larger...? "You slide your mouth up and down it, tasting a bit of precum. "Fuck, Hurry up and put it in your mouth, you dont understand how long I've been waiting ever since you ran away like an idiot."

You try to take it in fully, But you just gag like crazy, coughing and almost hitting your head. An arm reaches out, and pats you as you try again, Taking it in slowly. Tears are frantically falling down, as you start to get more and more wet by the second along with a sore throat. You're having so much trouble because its been years,

it feels so much more girthy, you shove a few fingers down your undergarments, stroking your needy clit, and across your folds your hands are covered with your juices as you already cummed. He grunted some more but he started to sound more and more annoyed till he dragged you out, your perfect hair was ruined,

and you were dripping wet. You were already a mess when you both havent even actually started. He placed you down on his lap, as you felt his abs through the shirt and his dick pressing against your back. He looks up at you as you blush a bright red, your eyes shifting everywhere. "Fuck off, dont look at me like that..." He chuckles, his hand raising to cover his face as he does,

Before he fists his hair into a ball. "Tell me, and dont lie, how long have you wanted my dick inside of you for?" He sucks on a a spot of your breast, while pushing your dress down to reveal it. "For...ever since I ran away." He smiles, "Oh really? Do you need it now?" "Y...–yes.. 'Need it so bad." You bite your lip in frustration, as you try to unbutton his shirt. "Go on, ride me like the whore you are." He feels even harder that before... You move up, placing yourself on his tip, slowly trying to enter as he holds onto your arm to support you. "Hnngh..~...mmn.." As he abruptly pushes you down full, filling you to the brim, you yelp loudly, as you shake like crazy. Trying to take some deeps breathes to process what just happened, "Fucking asshole– Let me take my sweet time." He kisses you on the lips, "Mhm..~ Cant wait anymore longer though, love." Half of his shirts buttons are unbuttoned and you can see his abs along with some scars. His face is so unreasonably attractive when he smiles like that. "Right..." You slowly move up and down, as you start to feel that same euphoria you've been longing for. Your pace fastens, bobbing yourself up and down like crazy. "Haaah!!~ Fuck! Ajax...!!~ S–sso bi—g.." His hand latches onto your ass, digging into its plush, as you feel yourself getting so close, you can feel every hot smooth inch of him after so long. "Fuck... You're such a slut with this pace. This is the first in years we're doing it and you're already cock drunk." He sucks on your breast, moving his hand to your clit, rubbing it in a circular motion and the other pinching your nipple, he leaves hickeys on your chest as you stop to cum, still having him inside of you as he stops rubbing, You fall onto him exhausted,

"Uh-uh we're not done here." He pushes you onto the table having full view of your body as he takes his gloves off, latching onto your waist making you shiver from how cold his hands feel. He leans into kiss you, starting to thrust sloppily as you felt blood trickle down from your nose.

Your moans and whimpers are muffled with the kiss, His tongue swirling with yours as your breast starts to press against his chest, His arm wrapping around your waist and the other wraps around from behind onto your shoulder. You feel yourself close again, his pace starting to quicken with one of his hands moving down to rub your clit again,

his mouth moving away, nipping your lips drawing blood as he sucked on your neck constantly biting parts of your body. You snapped, cumming alot as he did too, his seed spilling out of you down onto the floor, your juices with his cum mixed, as everything was messy, hes even getting you pregnant too. After all, if you concieve his child wont you both get married and stay together forever?

but thats not enough.

He pulls a knife out, dragging it through your skin as you start bleeding and whimper as a reaction to it even when your unconcious. He carves his name into your arm, smiling as he licks the blood after he finishes.

"I love you... I love you... dont ever leave me again... it was so hard..." He burrowed his head into your neck, eyes rolling up as he cooes there, sitting still inside of your unconcious body.

.

.

.

You gasp, waking up with a throbbing headache. looking around you to find Ajax beside you, sleeping peacefully with swollen eyes and a bloodied knife on the nightstand. "Ah... this is my house." You raised your hand to your forehead till you felt the immense stinging pain on your arm, noticing his names been carved in.

"Is he fucking serious?" He suddenly wakes up, still half asleep confused on whats happening. "[Y/N]...? Are you there..?" He rubs his eyes swaying his arms around blindly trying to find you.. "Huhuhu... did you leave me again.." He starts crying again like a child. "Um. I'm right here...?" You take him into your arms, burrowing his head into your chest feeling his tears.

...

He smiles. but in what way?

[fandomxpreferences]

Just a Boy and His Ceramic Bird

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x female!reader

TW:none

Summary: You and Bradley share a special tradition.

Word Count:1.2k

The tradition started as something funny, a little inside joke between you and Bradley when you first moved in together. You bought the little porch goose at a thrift shop on a whim, mostly to get a laugh out of Bradley. 

But over the past couple of years, its become a staple of your home. Through several moves and a couple hurricanes when he was stationed in sunny Florida, the goose has stuck around. It's the first thing you pack and unpack when you relocate, along with all the fun outfits you've collected for it. 

No one ever really noticed it before, that is until he was stationed in San Diego permanently. As your house became the hot spot for get-togethers, the jabs from the team became more frequent. They always teased that having a statue of a goose wearing silly clothes is an old lady thing, and Bradley let it roll off in good nature. 

It became a running joke amongst the aviators, even resorting to them having a poll to see what it should be named. They landed on Tonka, some long-winded story behind how they came up with it. Apparently, they had gotten on the topic of geese honking, which led to Jake saying something about Honky Tonk, and thus Tonka was born. 

You and Bradley just refer to it lovingly as Goose. 

See, what the squad doesn't know is that the little ceramic animal earned a special place in Bradley's heart. It became a symbol of his father, an ever-present memorial to the dearly departed man. 

So you and Bradley keep it clean and change out its little costumes. You have everything from a fourth of July outfit to a flight suit, and swapping them out has become an act of closure. 

You notice Bradley tense under your arm when Jake makes another snide remark.

"I'm just saying that having a lawn statue designed for 80-year-old women is very on-brand for Rooster." He remarks, and your stomach lurches. 

Before your sweet boyfriend can say anything, you chime in.

"Actually, it's mine." 

That little statement is all it took for them to hone in on you, now the center of the relentless teasing. You don't mind one bit, though. It's a small price to pay for Bradley to enjoy his little secret in peace. 

That night after everyone leaves, Bradley pulls you into a tight hug. 

"Thank you. You didn't have to do that." 

You shake your head and place a gentle kiss just below his ear, the smell of sandalwood and cinnamon bringing you comfort. 

"I know I didn't have to. I wanted to. They don't need to know the truth, that's our little thing." 

Bradley doesn't know how he got so lucky. At first, he felt stupid about the whole thing, but from the very beginning, you were adamant that it wasn't as silly as he thought. You insisted that if it made him feel better and was important to him, it's important to you too. 

It was you who started the habit of fist bumping the figurine on your way in the door and blowing it a kiss when you leave. He knew then and there that you're the one. 

A few weeks go by, and as the anniversary of Goose's death approaches, you switch it into its little flight suit, complete with a helmet and nametag. 

It's not until Phoenix really looks at the outfit that the puzzle pieces come together. She has a secret meeting with the rest of the group and fills them in. 

The next time they're over, you and Bradley are entirely taken by surprise. She hands you a gift bag, and you take it hesitantly, unsure of the special occasion. The second you remove the tissue paper, tears coat your lash line. 

It's a little pair of aviators, and you look up at her as Bradley takes them from you. 

"Are you pregnant?" You ask, and horror covers her features. 

"Oh god, no. They're for Goose. I figured out why you keep that thing around when I remembered that it was his dad's callsign."

She laughs as you pull her into a tight embrace, and Bradley just stands there stunned. 

"Well, go put them on him!" She exclaims, giving you a light shove toward the front door. 

You slip them over the statue's eyes, and your heart melts. It's so perfect, and you know Bradley loves them. 

That evening he cries when he goes outside to look, overcome with raw emotion. It feels so trivial, yet he can feel his dad in the air around him. 

At Christmas, you're not surprised to receive some accessories for goose and let out a loud laugh at the Hawaiian shirt bob had made. 

What does surprise you is Jake's gift. Bradley opens the large box and halts when he sees what's inside. You peek over to see what it is, and your eyes shoot up to look at the blonde pilot. 

He looks sheepish as he rubs the base of his neck, and you wait for an explanation. 

"I know the one you have is kind of like having your dad around, so I figured it's only right you have your mom too. They should be together."

You jump to your feet and all but tackle the man in a hug, caught off guard by the sentiment. 

"Who knew Jake Seresin was such a thoughtful sap." You tease, but no one misses the slight sniffle as you sit back down next to Bradley. 

He mumbles out a small thanks before everyone resumes exchanging gifts. A little bit later, Jake gets another beer in the kitchen, and Bradley follows him. 

"Hey," He says, and Jake turns to look at him. 

"I just want to thank you properly. It sounds dumb, but having that little goose is like having a piece of my dad. Now having one for my mom too.." He trails off, and Jake claps him on the shoulder. 

"I get it, man. I'm glad you like it." 

Bradley shakes his head and exhales before continuing. 

"Really, Jake. It means the world. I can't tell you how special it is to me. I know we give each other a hard time, but you're a good guy."

Jake can tell Bradley is getting worked up and gives him a short hug before pulling back.

"Come on, bird boy. Can't have you getting soft on me." He teases, and Bradley laughs. 

Leave it to Jake to provide comedic relief during a heartfelt moment. 

The two of them return to the living room, and you give your boyfriend a knowing smile as he sits down. Your hand squeezes his, and he kisses your temple, a silent exchange of love and appreciation for each other. 

This is everything you could ever want, a found family laughing in your living room and your man by your side. It's just you and your little goose family against the world.

@drakelover78  @manyfandomsfanvergent @ssprayberrythings @disturbedbeautywrites @desert-fern @one-sweet-gubler @callmemana  @luckyladycreator2 @bookchik26 @taytaylala12 @michalkasimp @xoxabs88xox @loveless-simp @withakindheartx @formulapierre @ccristata @shanimallina87 @k-k0129 @izz-ayes-world  @kajjaka @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @phantomxoxo @rosiahills22 @gspenc @chair-things @benhardysdrumstick @cookielovesbook-akie @dempy @wellshit6

[neukdaez]

say my name

rating: explicit

member: euijoo

notes: song-inspired fic, fem!reader, brother's friend, acquaintances to lovers, kitchen sex, praise, unprotected sex, creampie, maki is your younger brother, appearance by nicholas

a/n: my birthday fic for euijoo! i know his birthday's done both in korea and in where i live lol but it's still the 7th somewhere!!!! the song i incorporated into this is deny's say my name, which is a taglish song but i included translations for the lyrics i used here. this is my first full one shot on this account too aaaa so please enjoy!

there's something inherently exciting about doing things you shouldn't do, in meeting people who are bad for you, in sneaking around behind shadows, ducking from sight as the adrenaline pumps through your veins.

your heartbeat is loud, but your footsteps are quiet.

hindi mo ba napapansin, kung ga'no kainit ang hangin? (don't you notice how the air's turned hot?)

we've all had those moments in our lives when we stare off into space, teetering on the edge of doing something incredibly reckless. a lot of us have these moments more than once. sometimes more than once a day. you've had your fair share of internal battles about a risky decision, but this is the first time you can actually feel the suffocation creeping up on you as you rattle off your internal monologue.

but first, you need to find maki and wring his neck.

your brother has a friend. nicholas. and nicholas, in turn, has another friend.

euijoo.

and maki being the outgoing person he is, quickly became euijoo's friend, too. nevermind that nicholas and euijoo are both four years older than maki and are in their junior year of college while your little weasel of a brother is still in high school.

he met them in dance class, apparently. and they're thick as thieves.

so much so that they're in your living room right now, hogging the couch while they watch dance video after dance video on the tv.

this isn't a particularly new scene to witness. maki invites them over at least twice a week, and thanks to your parents' taste for the grander things in life, your living room has more than enough space for a bunch of young men to do their thing.

again, what business two twenty-somethings have in casually coming to a seventeen-year-old's house to hang out is beyond you. but you digress.

because at least maki has the sense to make friends with cute guys.

euijoo stands out to you, in particular. you're not sure why but there's definitely something about him. maybe it's his eyes, round and cute, like little cartoon saucers. or maybe it's his height. tall men are always a plus.

whatever it is, it's what's causing your inner turmoil, the more rational part of your brain fighting it out with the part of your brain that just makes you want to throw yourself at him.

wait, what?

you're at the top of the stairs, in the tiniest tank top you own, and while your lower half is safely covered in your pajama pants, the tight fit around your waist might raise some eyebrows (or catch eyes). the reasonable voice in your head tells you to cover up. you have visitors, for god's sake! but the small, mischievous whisper tells you to fuck it, flaunt it all to your brother's hot friends.

maybe you're overthinking it.

except, you aren't, because you're not blind and definitely not stupid.

nicholas did a double take the first time you met them, eyes scanning over you quickly. he's been tame since then, only greeting you curtly, but with a friendly enough smile nonetheless. then he turns back to his phone, typing away furiously. probably texting a girlfriend.

but euijoo's eyes linger. and while that may not mean anything now, you know that men are simple creatures. sauntering in front of him wearing what you're wearing now will definitely have him looking.

maybe you want him to look.

kalamnan ay unti-unting 'di maramdaman, natitirang konsensya, 'di na rin nadatnan (can't feel my insides, can't find what little conscience i have)

you climb down the stairs, your footsteps emitting soft thuds on the carpeted floor. your eyes stay true toward the direction of the kitchen, but a movement by the couch makes you shift your gaze.

you catch euijoo's eye briefly as he cranes his neck to look at you. you're still walking, albeit a little slower now. you fight the urge to smile when euijoo lets his line of sight fall to your chest.

"hey guys," you greet nonchalantly, breaking eye contact with euijoo. you glance at nicholas this time, sitting alone on the single-seater. he smiles warmly at you, giving a small wave.

maki is too engrossed in his phone to witness anything that's happening around him, particularly with his doe-eyed friend beside him on the couch.

"can you get me a soda from the fridge?" maki calls out to you as you enter the kitchen. you roll your eyes. ugh, little brothers.

you throw the refrigerator door open, snatching the four-pack of sodas. you pull one out for yourself, kicking the fridge shut before heading back out to the living room.

you press your soda to your neck, exhaling at the sensation against your warm skin. you extend your hand between maki and euijoo from behind the couch, handing them the rest of the sodas.

euijoo takes them from you, hand brushing against yours, and god does it feel like a predictable spicy romcom moment.

"thanks," euijoo says in his sweet honey voice. his lips turn up in the smallest of smiles.

"you're welcome," you reply, keeping your expression mostly neutral, raising your eyebrows in acknowledgement.

you turn away, making your way back to the stairs. you start your ascent and just before you disappear into the second floor, you give one final peek over the banister.

euijoo smiles once more as your eyes meet.

---

you still want to wring maki's neck. but maybe also reward him with a fat wad of cash.

it's late into the night and you're sure euijoo and nicholas have left. you heard the front door slam open and shut about an hour ago and you're certain you heard maki enter his room a little after that. so you practically frolicked down into the kitchen, in dire need of a midnight snack. your parents are conveniently off at an overnight business function so no one would give you shit for banging around with the pots and pans.

you're in the process of rummaging through the ramyeon drawer, scrutinizing the different flavors, when you hear a noise behind you. your heart seizes up in your chest as you spin around, bracing yourself against the counter, eyes wide in shock.

"euijoo?!"

the young man stands in the kitchen doorway, clad in what you can only identify as sleepwear of his own. his face mirrors yours, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.

"sorry, just wanted to get some water," euijoo quickly apologizes, holding his hands out defensively.

you exhale, stance relaxing as you watch him shuffle uncertainly towards the other side of the kitchen. the only thing that stands between the two of you is the kitchen island.

"maki didn't tell me you guys were sleeping over," you point out, ramyeon long forgotten behind you.

"then again, he never tells me anything," you add. euijoo chuckles.

he's retrieved a glass from a cupboard and before you can think further ahead, you reach over to the fridge beside you, ducking to get the pitcher from within.

it's now that you realize that you're practically sticking your ass out for euijoo to ogle at. you nearly giggle at the thought.

you straighten up, turning to place the water on the island. euijoo is leaning over the marble, eyeing you. you're not quite sure how his expression reads, but you smile politely, sliding the pitcher towards him.

"where's maki, anyway?" you ask.

"with nicholas. nico brought his car and they, uh...," euijoo trails off, silencing himself as he pours the water into his glass.

you cock your head to the side. "did you just send my underage brother out to buy alcohol?"

euijoo purses his lips, not saying a word. he clears his throat, seemingly suppressing a smile.

you exhale, pinching the bridge of your nose. opening your eyes, you see euijoo is looking at you over the rim of his glass as he drinks. you stare back, crossing your arms.

"well, i had my suspicions," you declare. "i started around his age, too."

euijoo nods, setting his glass down. "i see where he gets it from."

you narrow your eyes and euijoo looks back at you innocently.

"why didn't you go along with them?" you question, leaning over the island casually. you're still wearing the tank top from earlier and euijoo doesn't hide the fact that he's still looking.

to his credit, there seems to be the faintest blush on his cheeks. so, he's not completely shameless, at least.

"and leave you here alone? come on, i'm more of a gentleman than that," euijoo says, tone easy. he plants his hands on the island, mirroring you as he leans closer across from you.

i wanna do the things i never tried with ya', i wanna hear you say my name now, won't ya'

"that's very thoughtful of you," you supply appreciatively. euijoo smiles.

"the pleasure is mine, _______."

the sound of your name leaving euijoo's lips sends you back to the hypothetical edge, standing over a steep drop into shame.

are you really this kind of older sibling? flirting with your brother's friend, dressed in ridiculously thin clothing, practically laying yourself out on a big, wide, flat surface? you might as well spell it out for him at this point.

"when are they coming back?" you ask, resting your chin on your palm. you're properly bent over the island now. if euijoo had no idea a few minutes ago, he sure as hell knows what's up by now.

euijoo turns his back to you for a moment, placing the now empty glass in the sink. he looks down at you from where he's standing and glances away briefly as if thinking.

"in a bit," he begins, coming around the counter. your breath hitches as you follow him with your eyes, heart thumping as he stops behind you.

you turn, leaning back against the marble now as euijoo watches you. every blink, every time you shift your weight, every breath, it feels like he's taking it all in.

"it's a friday night, so the traffic might be hell out there," euijoo points out. "i'd say that's another twenty minutes or so. give or take."

baby, hindi na makahinga, i'm suffocating pero hindi masama (baby, can't breathe anymore, i'm suffocating, but it's not bad)

"what do you wanna do till then?" you press on, batting your eyes at the man in front of you. one side of his mouth turns up in a smirk.

he's cute enough that it looks almost endearing. but the sparkle in his eye points to something else.

"whatever takes twenty minutes or so to do," euijoo suggests with a raise of his brow. he steps closer and you're almost toe to toe.

i kinda like it, adrenalina'y tumatakbo, dibdib ay kumakabog, sa tubig kinakapos (i kinda like it, adrenaline's running, chest is pounding, running short on water)

you reach out but euijoo beats you to whatever you're trying to do. his hand circles your wrist as he moves even closer.

kalamnan ay unti-unting 'di maramdaman, natitirang konsensya, 'di na rin nadatnan (can't feel my insides, can't find what little conscience i have)

euijoo's other hand lays on your hip. he ducks his head so he's level with your face. you breathe in and euijoo grins.

isang utos mo lang, hindi na mahindian, bae (just one command and i can't say no to you, bae)

in your head, you're cursing how he's so stupidly hot and cute and charming at the same time that you'd have no problem doing whatever it is he wants you to.

"kiss me," euijoo dares, eyebrows rising for a second, as if in challenge.

it's embarrassing how loud you moan once euijoo's lips are on yours. your hands immediately come up to cup at his face and his own palms smooth around your waist, up your back, before descending again to ultimately rest on your ass.

euijoo is a damn good kisser and you can barely keep up with every slide of his tongue on yours and every pass of his lips over your parted ones.

euijoo's hands move to your shoulders, pointer fingers hooking through the thin straps of your top, pulling them down. you gasp against euijoo's mouth, your chest exposed in its near entirety.

you pull back, watching with labored breaths as euijoo tugs the front of your shirt down, letting one of your tits hang out. you bite your lip as he takes ahold of it, squeezing gently. his other hand maneuvers itself beneath the waistband of your pajamas, wriggling under your underwear, before finally finding purchase against the heat between your legs.

it's pathetic, really, how quickly you turn to putty under euijoo's touch. a man you've known for barely a few weeks, pulling at your every string, playing you like a fiddle.

"cute," euijoo murmurs, leaning in to plant a brief kiss on the side of your mouth.

euijoo draws small, tight circles on your clit and you squirm, knuckles white as you grasp onto the counter behind you. you tuck your chin against your chest, squeezing your eyes shut when you feel euijoo tease at your entrance.

euijoo's hold on your breast disappears and instead, he gently handles one side of your face, tilting your head up. you meet his eyes just as he plunges one finger into you.

your eyes flutter shut and euijoo kisses you again, hot and messy and slick with both of your spit. he adds another finger and you whine, hips stuttering against his hand. your knees feel weak and you're convinced they're ready to give out.

euijoo pumps in and out of your slowly, letting your wetness coat his fingers. he curls his digits just as he pushes up and you clench down, a pleasurable heat spreading across your body.

"fuck, euijoo," you whisper. he pulls back slightly, observing your expressions.

"tell me when you're close," euijoo instructs. his voice has dropped, making you shiver.

euijoo picks up his speed, curling his fingers periodically, movements almost calculated like he's done this a million times before. the thought of euijoo being experienced, mastering the ins and outs of this, makes your whole body prickle with excitement.

"c-close," you manage to whimper out.

euijoo maintains his speed but presses harder and harder each time against your spongy walls. you clamp a hand over your mouth as you feel your belly tighten.

"euijoo, i'm gonna—oh my god!"

your orgasm wipes all coherent thoughts from your head, knocking the air out of you in one fell swoop. euijoo wraps an arm around your torso, keeping you upright as you ride your high out on his fingers. he presses his lips to your temple as you start to calm down, chest rising and falling rapidly.

euijoo pulls his hand from your pajamas, holding your gaze as he licks his fingers clean of you. your face burns but you can't look away, mesmerized by the way his lips and tongue move.

don't gotta get emotions if it's okay with ya', but I might fuck around and catch feelings for ya'

euijoo smiles, eyes raking over your disheveled form.

"we better hurry," euijoo speaks up, dipping down to kiss you. you taste yourself faintly on his mouth,

you tug your pajamas and underwear down, letting them fall to the floor. you kick them off to the side, pulling back as euijoo does the same. your eyes travel down to see his cock standing red and angry against his stomach.

"like what you see?" euijoo asks playfully, a hand coming down to stroke at his shaft a few times.

you bite down on your lip, trying to suppress a grin. euijoo chuckles, large hands taking hold of your hips. he maneuvers you to face away from him, your front digging into the marble of the kitchen counter.

you lean forward, letting your front squish against the surface, back arched perfectly. you hear euijoo whistle lowly, a hand smoothing down your back.

"looking good, _______," euijoo compliments, knees knocking against your thighs, signaling you to part them. you adjust your stance, exposing more of yourself to euijoo.

"that's it," euijoo mutters and you feel something poke against your waiting hole.

you let out a mix of a sigh of relief and a choked-up sob as you feel euijoo push in. you crane your neck to see what euijoo's doing and his eyebrows are knit together, concentration on his features as he fills you all the way in.

you see his eyes roll into the back of his head as he bottoms out, hands automatically gripping at your waist, keeping you steady.

euijoo starts moving and your head drops onto the counter. the stretch feels euphoric, euijoo's cock dragging deliciously against your walls.

"euijoo," you whine. his hips snap up repeatedly, pace starting to pick up as he loses himself in your cunt.

"so good," euijoo whispers. "you feel amazing, _______."

you preen at his words, burying your face in your folded arms. the angle lets him hit that spot deep within you perfectly and you already feel the beginnings of your second orgasm creeping up.

you gasp softly as you feel fingers tangling themselves in your hair and you cry out fully when you feel euijoo tug your head back by your locks.

"fuck, come here, angel," euijoo implores, an arm around your midsection as he pulls you against him.

euijoo's holding you up all by himself and you let him, too weakened by the way he's fucking into you.

euijoo's movements quicken, thrusts turning shallow as he ruts against you. you wonder for a moment if it's possible to go mad over cock. the thought is a ridiculous one, but with the way euijoo fucks you, harsh yet contained, with all the finesse and enthusiasm combined, you start to think it might not be too much of a stretch.

euijoo presses his mouth behind your ear, sucking lightly and you shiver, his breath tickling your sensitive skin.

"where?" euijoo asks, voice strained. it's obvious he's holding his release back.

it takes you a second to register his question and euijoo grunts softly, movements now erratic.

"where do you want it, angel?" euijoo repeats.

"inside," you say, walls clenching down as you feel your own orgasm approach. "please, inside."

it doesn't take long for euijoo's hips to stutter, fucking into you at a brutal pace for a few seconds before he stills, spilling himself deep in you. the feeling of him finishing inside sends you over the edge in turn, euijoo's name falling loudly from your mouth.

euijoo lets go of you and you slump over the counter, sweaty and spent. he slowly pulls out and you wince, pushing yourself upright with shaky arms.

"put this on, quick," euijoo reminds, handing you your underwear and bottoms. "before you, uh, make a mess on your kitchen floor."

you blush violently at his words, hurriedly pulling your clothes back on. euijoo does the same, wordlessly putting on his pajama pants.

you make eye contact and a second goes by without either of you saying a word. a moment later, the two of you burst out in silent giggles.

"i'd say that was about twenty minutes," euijoo comments, rubbing the back of his neck, a sudden shyness overcoming his demeanor.

before you can get a word out, you hear the front door slam open, hushed voices carrying through the house to the kitchen.

"_______? are you awake?" maki asks.

you and euijoo exchange a look.

[igotanidea]

chapter 1 : Another privateer: Nikolai Lantsov x fem!reader

A/N: I'm having so much fun writing this. So much that chapter 2 may be coming faster than expected 😊 😊 😊

CHAPTER 1 : ORIGINS

Y/N Y/L/N was a Grisha. An Inferni, to be precise. Raised in the small palace but never adjusting properly to the royal life. She was not like Zoya, proud, confident and more queen-like than an actual queen. She was not like Genya, careful, gentle and quiet (even if that came with a bit of cunning). Or like Nadya with all her positive attitude and calmness.

No.

Y/N was someone you would call a trouble maker.

More often than not her kefta was disheveled, torn or dirtied, her hair messy, her face reddened, eyes glistening. She was the kid who was running through the palace corridors, fooling around, teasing and playing pranks on everyone else. Not listening to her Inferni teachers, skipping classes and causing havoc. All those rules and limitations that she was so swiftly finagling were boring and confining and she could not deal with them. She did not want to deal with them. She did not want to relent.

However, such vivid expression of emotions and god, forbid – fun -was unacceptable.

Especially from a kid.

Especially from an Inferni, who dealt with the most dangerous and unpredictable element.

And especially from a legacy as her father used to call her, even if the sound of the word made her sick to the stomach. Much to her resentment Y/N came from a long line of merited, noble house and what was expected of her had little to do with joy. Her father was the personal advisor of the king so her family was always close to the royals and that meant attending banquets, balls, playing the role of someone she was not. And someone who she did not wish to be. A lady.

She had obligations, duties and strict agenda and it was weighting her down.

“Sit still!” her mother scoffed her during another preparation for another royal dinner. “You have to act like a girl and look like one, not a tatterdemalion.”

She never complied with any rules.

One day, when it all became too much, she used her skills to set the curtains in one of the classes on fire and run away from, as far as possible. And that’s how she found herself in the presence of second son, prince Nikolai Lantsov. Of course she knew who he was when full of anger, with fierce face expression run into the forest surrounding the palace, ready to burn it to the ground. Of course she remembered that a prince should be treated with respect. She clearly recollected all the bow in his presence, act coy and cautiously, be gentle….. Saints! Even the memory made her roll her eyes and she could not care less. As for the prince he took one glance at her messy figure and literal fire in her eyes made him gasp in awe on the inside and smirk characteristically on the outside. He remembered that girl.

“Hard day?”

“You have no idea.” She muttered flopping onto the ground with a heavy groan.

“I actually think I do. You know, I am the prince after all.” Silent emphasis on the title did not slip by her.

“Oh I’m sorry, moi tsarevich.” She immediately jumped to her feet and bowed in the funniest way he had ever seen, almost tripping over her own feet “forgive me for my audacity. Will you grant me the honor of resting on the ground in your presence?”

“You’re something different, aren’t you?” he looked at her carefully with sparks in his eyes “not like the other Grishas here?”

“Whatever that may mean, I guess not.” She shrugged “Whatever, but my parents would probably disinherit me if they knew how I’m addressing the prince at the moment.”

“Good thing the prince appreciates your honest attitude.” He laughed whole-heartedly and all the tension in her shoulders disappeared just because of that sound. Apparently he was something else than what was presented to people as well.

“Does he?” she raised an eyebrow “I thought him to be the one greedy for blarney and cocky.”

“Can you blame me? I mean look at that handsome face.” Nikolai grinned and that earned him a chuckle from her “Someone’s feeling better, I see. I know, I know, my sense of humor is impeccable.”

“Cocky it is” she nodded to herself.

 “True, I don’t mind a good praise. But I’m bored with pretenses and restrictions. I can’t really do much of what I want in the palace and that is just…..”

“Infuriating?”  

“Yeah…..” He glanced at her once again but this time it was like he really saw her “I’m Nikolai. Not a prince, not a tsarevich, not a royal.”

“Bet you say that to all the girls you flirt.” Y/N spat, but deep inside started to wonder if he really was on a fist name basis with every girl Grisha in the palace. Given his direct approach to the matter that truly was something to wonder about. And it made her feel ….. weird. Saints! She barely met him and he managed to spark something with all the attention focused on her. Probably the first person she met who did not considered her a menace.

“Careful there.” he warned playfully “You got yourself in good terms with me and if you want to keep being yourself you’re gonna need someone to look after you. Guess that’s gonna be me.”

“Look after? Really? I’m not some stray cat who needs protecting. Besides, I’ve been doing fine till now.”

“How about the turn fine into amazing?” he smiled and she could not help reciprocating. “come on, look me in the face and tell me that does not sound promising.”

“I’m Y/N.” she laughed unable to do what he asked but not wishing to say it straight away “Want to make some mess?”

***

From that day they became friends, but kept it in secret, stealing all the little moments together. No one knew. For three years. And it all came out because of Zoya and her scheming.

***

There were probably better ways of meeting than sneaking out in the middle of night to that one spot in the forest, but both Y/N and Nikolai had some flair for dramatics. He was a prince trained in sword fights and combat and she was an Inferni, what was the worst thing that could have happened , right? Besides, the palace and adjoining grounds were a safe place, right?

“Nik! You came!” Y/n emerged from behind the trees immediately spotting her best buddy, already there, waiting for her. Honestly, she felt relieved when he showed up first. Nikolai has been acting strange for the last couple of weeks, avoiding her, defending himself with all the duties. Well, as if she didn’t have things to do! Between being Grisha and training and her obligations towards father and the crown, she really had to cut down on sleep and rest to tear time for him. But it was important. Maybe it was more important for her than for him. And all that’s been happening got her mind spinning and well, worrying.  

“Missed me that much?” he smirked observing her coming closer, her coat disheveled, hair messed, as usual since some things never changed, even after years.  

“Pf! You wish.”

“And what if I do?” that mocking expression disappeared from his face, replaced by seriousness and care.

“I bet you say that to all the girls…..” she laughed, trying her best to defuse the tension. Even though the Inferni were the Grishas who could not start a fire out of nothing, at that moment she swore she could make a flame from all the feelings inside.  

“No. No I don’t” he took her hand in his, caressing it gently and intertwining their fingers. Her small hand aligning so well with his.  

“What are you doing?” as much as she wanted to turn around and run away that simple gesture as holding hands got her absolutely frozen in place. Rooted to the ground.

“Dazzling you with my charm?” his other hand travelled up to cup her cheek.

“It doesn’t work on me.” She opposed, eyes widening in shock, breath hitched in anticipation of what was coming.

“Too bad.” he leaned forward, but before their lips met pulled away leaving her absolutely confused.

She frowned but the teasing smirk on his face told her everything she had to know.

“Told you” Y/N shrugged “it’s not working. Bet you know it as well since you backed down on your own.”

“I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.” He spat back.

“Mhm. Sure. Whatever game you were playing here, tsarevich, you lost. Bet you don’t like that, do you?”

“How was your day, fireball? „he let go of her completely, sitting on the tree trunk and patting the spot next to him invitingly “Managed to fry any dummy of an opponent?”

“Many. But you know, the night is still young, I got a chance to add another one to the list.”

“Got your mind on anyone in particular?”

“Maybe. Not that it’s of your concern. How was your day, prince?” she was trying, but could not hide that annoyed tone and he knew well enough that if it came to calling him with official titles it was serious. Good. At least now he knew what feeling she was hiding inside. Not that he was going to take it easy on her. “did you managed to charm anyone? Your brother, perhaps?”

“Don’t even get me started on that…..”

***      

Ever since that almost-kiss in the forest something has changed between them and it was hard to determine whether it was a good or a bad shift. There was a lot more teasing than usual and that giving the fact, Nikolai were a natural at that. But now, when he saw her in the palace or in the ground or in the library he was always approaching her, commenting on her fighting skills and technique, even in the presence of other Grishas. On top of being known as the most unruly person in the Little Palace, now the rumors considering her relationship with prince has started. Oh, Nikolai just loved to make her life harder than it had to be and she had enough, ready to confront him and tell him off.

Right at the moment.

But when she ditched her Inferni practice (again) and was on her way to the royal wing of the palace, unexpected appearance of her father put her off the stride.

“Y/N” he smiled in a predatory manner, putting arm on her shoulders and walking her away from destination “I’ve got good news. Our family has been invited to the banquet. You included.”

“What? No. No way. I’m not….”

“You are going, I won’t hear a word about it. And you will behave.”

“but….” She squirmed. The grip on her was hard and hurt to the point when some tears showed in her eyes. And of course that was the moment Nikolai chose to show up. Just one glance at her face was enough for him to take action, she did not wish for.

“Lord f/l/n.” he spoke in the most royal tone he could.

“moi tsarevich.”

“Y/N” Nik turned his gaze on her, but she did not say and only another press on the shoulders made her mutter some sort of greeting “I think there’s no need to keep your daughter a prisoner, lord f/l/n. Whatever she may have done we have other sort of punishments in the palace.”

“Of course.” with such words she was able to breathe normally again “this one’s a challenge. Refused ‘to attend the …..”

“I know. “Nik smirked “but I really hope to see you tonight, Y/n”

“Tonight?! What do you mean tonight!?” she cried out “I need like a week of mental preparations for that!”

“No, you don’t” both men said in unison, each with different tone.

Yes, she was forced to attend.

to be continued

tags are open.

@pinksirensong - you're probably gonna kill me when you get back and see all the things I tagged you in ... ...

[hyrule-in-a-pokeball]

GANONDORF AND "CALAMITY" GANON: TWO SEPARATE BEINGS

Calamity Ganon, as we know, was more like a primal force of nature, though it did display some level of intelligence with its ability to formulate and execute plans (Spawning the blights and unleashing them, corrupting the Guardians, etc) it wasn't exactly a big brain genius. I mean, come on, it had 10,000 years to plan, and the best it came up with, while effective, was "Uno reverse lol" And with an additional 100 years its plan became "Cyborg time!"

And then just. "Big pig!"

It wasn't a tactical genius. It won because Hyrule was overly reliant on the ancient Sheikah technology to the point that they were helpless against that very technology when it was turned against them.

But what the hell was Calamity ganon? Well, we see it in three, maybe four forms. Pig Cloud

Which Creating a Champion states is a "spirit composed of malice"

Fashion disaster Ganon

An incomplete, slapped together body made of Malice and machinery (Apparently he started building this body when he sensed Link awaken in the chamber of resurrection)

Kaiju Ganon

A body formed of pure malice as a final "screw you though" after his cool new cyborg body was destroyed.

And the fourth body is possibly the malice itself, seeing as he seemed to be hell bent on using it to make his new bodies. It was like clumps of flesh just sort of laying around waiting to be assembled into something.

So now that we know the calamity's 3 (or 4) main forms, I want to focus on the pig cloud, because I think that is Calamity Ganon's truest form. The malice is something it created, either intentionally or as a byproduct of simply existing, and its other bodies were things made of that malice.

Now, we know that Calamity Ganon was utterly destroyed at the end of Breath of the wild. It didn't like, return to Dry Ganondorf in the depths. That thing got nuked.

And that means that Ganondorf's consciousness was always in his dry body and not acting through the Calamity. In fact, when Rauru seals him away, he taunts Rauru and says "Thousands of years will pass in the blink of an eye" which to me says he knows he gonna be stuck in that spot for a hot minute.

The Calamity spawned from him, but it was not him. Its almost like a giant, out of control Phantom Ganon thats just sort of up there doing its best. But with Ganondorf sealed away, how did Calamity Ganon get loose? Well, it might seem odd, but I think Majora's mask (the object) can point us in the right direction

Majora's Mask was once just a normal mask. Carved from normal wood. (actually if you look at the renders it looks more like it was carved from stone, but whatever) It wasn't alive, it didn't possess magic powers. It was just a mask. A mask used in ancient hexing rituals. Over time, the negative energies created from those hexing rituals sort of infected the mask and eventually became conscious, with the mask acting as a body. It was a Tulpa that was housed inside the mask. (A tulpa is a concept in mysticism of an object or being that is created through mental or spiritual power. To make it extremely basic: A tulpa is an imaginary friend that stops being imaginary. Actually in that sense, Phantom Ganon is basically a tulpa.)

So, Ganondorf, sealed away, conscious or not, was just seething. Pure hate for Hyrule, for Rauru the first king, and all his descendants. That hate was so pure and intense that it basically manifested as Calamity Ganon. The pig cloud. A separate entity born of Ganondorf's sheer spite and hate.

And if you need further proof that they are not the same entity, we need only look to Ganondorf's profile in Tears of the Kingdom, unlocked after completing the game.

Ganondorf had been slowly working on his revival for 100 years INDEPENDENTLY of Calamity Ganon. Link and Zelda just pulled a "wrong place/wrong time" when they found him at the exact moment the seal finally weakened enough to break.

Man what would Ganondorf have done if he broke out of his seal like 5 or 8 years earlier, made his way to the surface, and found pig cloud ganon just up there partying?

[allbark-no-bite]

Meet Me In the Middle || Elvis Presley x reader

summary: it is all too easy to give and take when the lines of platonic love become blurred. or in which you’ll alway be Elvis’ little girl

warnings: 18+, sexual content, mentions of blood, loss of virginity, the usual swearing

word count: 5k

author’s note: low key I’m really proud of this one. thank you all for the love and support i received on my last fic <33 i literally have so many elvis ideas but not enough time to write them. would y’all want some shorter fics too?

—

Summer was sharing sweet orange slices from the farmers market and the sticky juice that trailed down our arms. Summer was playing tag in the front yard, tousling like rabbits in the the green grass. Summer was late nights spent listening to records together on my full sized bed.

Summer was Elvis. Until it wasn't.

One late night in 1957, summer became the three month notice of a court ordered draft. Summer became the worst three months of my entire life.

—

"You're not actually gonna go though, right, El?" I'm standing at the bottom of the stair case, feet cemented to the last step as I wait for his reply.

Elvis and his mama and daddy all look up at me from where they're gathered in the living room. He drops the hand holding the paper to his side, as if hiding it from my sight would erase it from my mind. Uncomfortably, he clears his throat.

I swivel my head, looking from his mama and then back to Elvis. No one moves to speak, and I break the building tension again as I realize what their silence means. "Elvis!"

He sighs, lifting his hand to rub his brow. "I've got to go, darlin’. I can't—"

I stomp my foot against the wooden staircase and it makes a loud thud that echos through the house. "Tell them you can't! You can't go—you can't leave us!"

Obviously becoming frustrated, Elvis takes a few steps towards the stairwell, waving his draft notice at me. "I've got no choice, alright? It's that or they fucking arrest me!"

"UGH!" I screech, turning on my heels and stomping up the stairs. It's childish of me but had I stayed planted there any longer, the tears burning in the back of my eyes would have made their appearance, and I don’t want him to see me cry.

Elvis shouts after me. "C'mon, really, [y/n]? You're gonna cry? Get back down here!"

I stomp louder, ignoring him, and storm into my room. I slam the door once I'm inside. Elvis hated it when I slammed doors. Once I reach my bed, I rip the sheets off of it and then clamp them shut around me. Only then do I allow the burning tears to start down my face.

Germany. He was going to Germany. Out of the millions of people in the world, what were the odds that they pulled his name. Apparently pretty damn good. What was he thinking? Elvis couldn't fight in a war. Surely the Colonel would have something to say about this. As much as I hated my stepdad, I was certain this was something we could agree on.

My mama had married young. It was a fairytale story in which she'd fallen madly in love with my daddy her senior year of high school and dropped out to marry him then and there. My daddy had been dealt a good set of cards by his own father and was a very successful lawyer down in New Orleans. He died of a heart attack when I was five, leaving my momma his entire inheritance. A few years later, she married a Mr. Colonel Tom Parker. My momma was beautiful, but he had married her for the money. He proved my point by divorcing her two years later, leaving me stuck between two homes.

I loathed the summers that I would be sent to spend with my stepdad. He'd never done ill to me, but again I had little reason to like him either. He tolerated me for three months of the year as his form of child support, and I spent weeks dreading following him and his little circus act around for the sake of 'show business'. That was until I met his up and coming act Elvis Presley.

Once Elvis blew up, the Colonel finally set aside his circus life and moved us to Graceland to focus on the young star full time. Suddenly, I found myself looking forward to leaving behind my mother's beautiful Louisiana estate and spending more and more time in Memphis, Tennessee.

But if I had ever learned anything about my stepfather, it was that he would do anything for the sake of business. Which is why instead of shutting down Elvis' ridiculous notion that he was going to enlist in the army, he encouraged it, hoping to make him some sort of all American hero or whatever he called it.

We throw Elvis a going away party the night before he ships off for Germany. I refuse to attend, spending the evening moping in my bedroom. The happy chatter and music coming from downstairs only serve to worsen my mood.

I wish everyone would just go home so I could sulk in peace.

I kick off the shoes I had worn for the evening and sit with my legs crossed a top my bed. A tattered flannel dog sits where I had left it on my pillow last night, and I pick it up, realizing I had forgotten to put it away.

Elvis had given me the plush dog at the end of the first summer I spent at Graceland. Something to remember him by back home, he had said. For a long time, I never went anywhere without it. But I'd eventually forgotten about the dog and didn't touch it for years. I'd started carrying it around again now that he was leaving.

Knuckles rap softly at my door, but before I can even stand up to answer it, Elvis is pushing the door open and stepping hesitantly into my bedroom.

I glare at him, dropping the flannel stuffed animal to the ground. "I didn't say you could come in."

He ignores my harsh rebuke and crouches down to retrieve the stuffed dog. Methodically, as if lost in a memory, he turns the plush toy over in his hands. I watch as his fingers muse with the soft flannel of the dog's ear. Standing up, he slowly walks towards the bed. "I don't wanna fight tonight."

I turn my head. Between his freshly cut hair and crisp uniform, it's all too much.

The bed dips underneath me, and Elvis places the toy in my lap. "I haven't seen this thing in a while," he comments, prompting me in a futile attempt to get me to talk.

I just shrug, still not looking directly at him. Because I can't tell him that I haven't slept without the stupid plush dog in months now. Can't tell him that because I don't want him to think I'm just some dumb little kid.

"C'mon," Elvis persists, a playful tone to his voice as he nudges his elbow into my side. "Don't go tellin' me you're too grown for that kinda stuff now, lil’ girl."

I set the dog off of my lap, as if wanting to remove it from view and out of the conversation.

"I'll be too grown by the time you're comin' home. Turnin' eighteen next year," I point out bitterly, reminding him that he's missing my birthday.

Elvis is quiet for a moment. "Eighteen don't mean all that much," he finally says. "You'll still be my lil’ girl."

His little girl. His dumb kid sister. It's all just the same, I think. That is all he will ever think of me.

I'd been counting down the days until I turned eighteen, waiting for that growth spurt, waiting for puberty to hit, waiting for the day that I could shake him awake and say, Look. Look at how much I've changed. I'm not your kid sister anymore. I don't want to be your kid sister anymore.

I'd always been his 'lil’ girl'. And for a long time that had been okay. I was fourteen when I permanently moved into Graceland. We were practically raised together. We were best friends and fought like brother and sister. But now that I was older, it was hard to see him like that anymore. He was still my best friend in the entire world, but I'd grown, and I understood a lot more than I did when I was fourteen. I noticed the sharpness of his face now, the childlike roundness gone. I noticed the new fullness of his body and how it balanced out his once lanky frame.

He'd become a man without me realizing it, and I desperately didn't want to be his little sister anymore. But now that he was leaving, none of it mattered. I'd grow up without him there to see it, and he'd move on, find some nice girl in Germany.

Elvis tilts his head, trying to smile at me, his soft pink lips pressed together. "I'll throw you a big party when I get back, yeah? Mama'll make you a cake, and we'll sing 'happy birthday' even if it's the middle of June."

I bite my lip and laugh, thinking about how ridiculous it would be because I know that he's being serious.

God, I'm gonna miss him.

"Two years isn't so long," my voice cracks, and I laugh through the sob as I finally turn towards him. "Right?"

Elvis smiles. "I'll be back before you know it."

—

The day Elvis came back was a cold day in Memphis, Tennessee. The warm weather of budding summer had yet to come, leaving us all bundled up in heavy coats as we waited amongst crowds and crowds of people at the train station. But then again, summers had never been quite the same since Elvis left two years ago.

Gladys held onto my elbow beside me, and I would point out in the direction of each new train that appeared. To my left was my boyfriend of six months. We had met due to some mutual friends and hit it off pretty quickly. He was no Elvis, and so I had been hesitant at first, but he was persistent in asking me out for weeks. I had finally relented, and he surprised me. He was good to me.

"Oh look!" Gladys exclaimed, patting my hand and drawing my attention back to the tracks. "That's him!"

A black train engine approached us, slowing down as it neared and stopped at the station in a whoosh of steam. After a bustle of excitement at the side of the loading dock, I caught a glimpse of his dark black hair. With the help of the conductor and a couple police officers, Elvis began to push his way through the crowd.

He greeted him mama first, hugged her tightly and unabashedly let her kiss his cheeks as he stooped to reach her. He'd grown a lot in two years. Next was his daddy, who's hand he shook firmly and then leaned in, clapping him on the back.

When he got to me, he hugged me like a big brother would do, slinging a heavy arm around my shoulders and drawing me into his side to place a smooched kiss to the top of my head. And then when he pulled away and caught sight of my boyfriend standing at my side, he hardened his blue eyes and squared his shoulders in that same big brotherly fashion, stiffly holding his hand out to shake. If he was angry with me—as he should have been—he didn't show it. I hadn't told him about my boyfriend, but I assumed Gladys had let him on about it.

Moving on after an awkwardly stiff handshake, Elvis greeted the Colonel as well as Sonny and Jerry, and then gathered his things. We went home and life went back normal, exactly as it was before Elvis had left. Everything went back to how it was. We laughed and joked and quarreled as we did before he left, and pretended to ignore the problem the presence of my boyfriend proposed.

For most, Elvis and I’d closeness would have likely torn apart any romantic relationships. We were too comfortable with each other to just be friends, and yet that’s what we where. That’s what we had to be. We took what we could get.

—

What I would have done had I not stumbled into the wall, likely waking up the entire house and causing Elvis to stick his head out of his bedroom door, I honestly don't know. I wouldn't have called him, I think to myself, because brothers aren't supposed to know that their little sister's in bed with a boy. But he's not my brother, and I don't have a choice because before the words leave my mouth, he's pulling me into his bedroom, shielding me from everything except for the view of his wide shoulders that are wedged between the doorframe.

My legs are shaking. My entire body is shaking. I'm lightheaded from crying and my chest burns from all the hyperventilating I was doing moments before. The insides of my legs tingle, and I realize it's because liquid is dripping down them. I don't want to know what color it is. Neither is good, I think.

Out in the hall, I can hear footsteps muffled against the carpeted floor. "[y/n] run off in there?"

Elvis steps further out of the door, still using his body to block me from view. "She got a reason to be runnin'?" His voice is dangerously monotone.

I hear the other voice scoff. He must be standing out in the hall, a safe distance from Elvis. "Look, I didn't do nothin' she didn't ask for."

Elvis looks back at me from over his shoulder, taking in my current state under his gaze. My face burns with shame and humiliation.

His eyeliner black eyes are steely, almost murderously calm. It's the look of someone who's about to kill a man. I know that he notices my lack of shorts and half unbuttoned night shirt because it's his. Stolen from Elvis long ago, it's just long enough to cover the curve of my ass and enough to hide the fact that I'm not even wearing panties. And maybe that is why he doesn't kill the boy on the other side of the door then and there.

"Get out of my goddamn house."

"I didn't—"

"Get out before I break your fucking face in," he snarls.

The noise is enough to stir Jerry, who pokes his head up the stairwell. Ever the peacekeeper, I hear his mellow voice float down the hall. "EP? Everything okay?"

Never breaking eye contact with the boy, Elvis' voice has returned to the chillingly quiet tone. "Get to stepping, pal," he growls. I can picture his face, white teeth bared into a menacing snarl like one of those dogs who's yard the postman stays away from.

There is a heavy pause in the conversation and then I hear loud footsteps descending the stairs. The front door slams shut.

The moment he retreats from the door, I'm clinging to him, grabbing at his soft satin shirt and hiccuping into his chest. His palm cradles the back of my head, hugging me into his body. His presence is comforting enough to stop my trembling, but when he pulls me away from his chest, another sob escapes my mouth.

"Please, you can't tell the Colonel, El." I reach for him again, just wanting to be held.

He holds my shoulder at arms length, worried blue eyes taking me in. "What happened, lil’ girl?"

Another sob rakes through my chest, tearing at my raw lungs and choking up my throat. My hand grabs at his shirt, desperate to hold on to him. "I thought I was ready. I really did." I'm swallowing spit as I talk, still trying to breathe and cry at the same time. "And then I couldn't— He wouldn't—"

Elvis' jaw hardens and he lets me push myself into his chest again, hushing my cries. "Okay, okay. It's okay, darlin'."

I hiccup into his shirt, pressing my cheek to his chest. The heavy thrum of his heart pounds against my ear. He's still breathing hard, holding me securely against him. "El, You can't—"

"I ain't gonna tell no one, lil’ girl, alright?" Elvis states firmly, as if to put my worries to an end once and for all.

"Hey." Elvis takes half a step backwards, doing his best to detach me from his body. I let out another halfhearted sob again, my eyes blurry and red from crying. "Hey—now, enough of that. Let's clean you up." His tone is firmer than I would have expected, but it works enough to sober me up.

I nod, emitting one last hiccup and dragging the backs of my hands over my eyes.

Walking into his bathroom, Elvis sits me down on the closed toilet seat and after running a wash rag under the warm sink water, crouches in front of me. Suddenly I'm in grade school again, waiting for him to clean my scraped knee because I never did know what was good for me.

"Gonna clean you up, 'kay, darlin'?" His tender blue eyes hold mine.

The wet clothe drips onto the ground and his finger tips ghost up my thigh, brushing aside the shirt bundled at my waist. I see his hands tremble, and he swallows as his eyes take in my bareness. He's realizing I'm not wearing panties. Elvis sniffs and squeezes my knee with one hand. Wordlessly, he brings the wash clothe softly between my thighs.

I twitch slightly at the sensation, wanting to mewl and push his hand away, but I remain still as he works. He won't look up at me as he tenderly drags the clothe between my legs, focused on ridding me of every memory of tonight.

It's a terribly strange experience, having someone who is so close to you care for you in such a compromising position. And yet there's a mutual understanding there that says, 'this is okay with me so long as it's okay with you'.

Finally, the feel of the clothe disappears, but Elvis remains crouched, his head between my knees. He's so close that I feel his breath on me.

I imagine his nose brushing my bare cunt.

The problem was that I was exactly the kind of pretty that he picked out in girls every weekend and sought out after shows, and we both knew it.

The problem was that I was his little girl who's boyfriends he ran off and runny nose he wiped.

He sighs and kisses the inside of each of my knees. "C'mon. Let's get you in the shower, lil’ girl." He sits back on his heels and stands up, tossing the red stained rag into the bin.

I watch from the toilet seat as he turns on the water for the shower that he doesn't even like. Elvis had a preference for baths and I knew because he alway requested a room with one wherever he stayed. The only reason he had a shower at Graceland was because it was easier to have sex in.

I knew this because I'd asked him one day as I laid sprawled across his mattress, flipping through a magazine. He was in the shower at the time, the door half ajar as he had left it, the steam of the shower spilling through the crack. His girlfriend had just left and he'd run upstairs, tossing his shirt on me as he went. He'd nearly had his jeans off before he even slipped through the bathroom door, and I'd caught a glimpse of his blue boxers.

A while after, as I listened to the spray of the water against the tiles, I'd asked him then and there, why he'd taken the room with the shower and given the other to Jerry.

"What?" he had asked distractedly, his voice raised so that I could hear him.

"How come you got a shower when you don't even like 'em?"

The spray of the shower head cut off and I could hear him moving around in the bathroom. Through the crack of the door, I could see his reflection in the mirror as he preened at his wet ebony hair.

"Just easier I recon. When you have a girl over, I mean."

Elvis was nearing the cusp of twenty himself and so the topic of sex was not new nor uncomfortable to him. Besides, I was just his kid sister.

I was sixteen at the time and had no real concept of what it meant to me when he brought girls over. I guess I knew that he never grew especially attached to any specific one, and they went out of his life just as quickly as they had come.

"Oh," was all that I had said afterwards, watching him as he walked out of the bathroom, his face flushed red, towel bunched in his hand. Instead of using it to dry off his hair, he tossed it into the laundry bin and grabbed a fresh one.

"Water's probably hot enough—," Elvis says, drawing me from my thoughts.

I tug at the rumpled collar of my—his—night shirt. "Will you..." I swallow away the knot in my throat. "Will you get in with me? I don't wanna..."

No. He's supposed to say no because someone's got to draw the line somewhere. We aren't kids anymore, no matter how desperately we both cling to the idea.

He pauses. "Yeah, sure, sweet thing."

I pull off the silky night shirt without a second thought. It was just Elvis and he'd probably seen me nearly naked a thousand times before. I can see him in the reflection of the mirror behind me, sliding off his own clothes and trying to avoid looking over in my direction. His is cock hard against his stomach.

"Go on," he says, ushering me into the shower, as though intent on pretending his body wasn't responding acutely to the situation. Elvis follows me in, his large frame taking up the bulk of the space.

Tangles of my wet hair falls in cascades down my shoulder. I let the stream pelt into my face, opening my mouth only to breathe and spitting out the water that enters. Rust tinged water swirls down the drain after running down my legs. A hiccup shakes my shoulders and more water flows into my mouth. I hadn't realized I was still crying.

Elvis' arms pull me into his chest, resting just under my breasts, and one hand slides up my throat, tipping my chin up so that I can breathe. "Hey." His bare skin feels foreign against my back. Forbidden in a sense. "Enough of that. Breathe, lil’ girl."

My head falls back limply against his shoulder, and I allow my eyes to close. The steady weight of Elvis' chin comes to rest in the joint of my neck and shoulder as he holds me close. One of his thumbs strokes the swell of my breast, just barley ghosting the bud of my nipple. Even in the hot shower, the action makes me shiver.

"I should have run him off after dinner. Shouldn't have boys around the house this late," he whispers softly.

"I'm grown now, Elvis," I remind him weakly. "I can do what I what."

"And you wanted him?"

I can feel the girth of his arousal against my back. He emits a small huff each time I move. Elvis runs a hand down my body, not stopping until his large fingers are splayed across the expanse of my stomach. His other hand still tweaks at my nipple, cupping the fullness of my breast in his palm.

It feels good enough to make my body feel like putty in his hands. I'd let those hands do anything to me.

"You know, you were the first boy to break my heart?" I say instead.

Elvis sighs heavily against my body, his fingers dig into the soft flesh of my belly. "You were too little, and I was grown," he says in his own way of answering me.

"And now?"

His hand slips from my stomach to slide around the curve of my ass, and he tips his head up to press his nose into my wet hair. "God, I hate the thought that his hands were on you. That he touched you."

I feel his puffy pink lips hover above the tender skin of my neck, his breath hot against my skin. His nose skims the shell of my ear, and he kisses the joint between my neck and shoulder. Elvis's hand travels back around my body, sinking lower lower, until his forefingers just barely ghost my bareness. I whimper as my sensitive cunt clenches around emptiness.

Elvis' mouth is hot against my ear. "Do you trust me?"

There are still faint smudges of dark mascara under my eyes, and I've only just stopped all the ragged, unsteady breathing. I’m still aching and tender. I think about how I didn't think twice about running into his arms, even if I was too ashamed to call for him myself. I'd trust him with my life.

I nod.

"Words. I need words."

I swallow, pressing my nose to the column of his throat. "I've always trusted you."

There's no tension between us as he rubs his fingers against my cunt, tenderly exploring the heat of me. There's no hurry as his fingers prod at my opening, feeling the tightness and resistance of my body. I reflexively push my hips into his hand when his thumb passes over my clit, sending jolts up my spine. The hand holding my body against him tightens, pulling me back into his chest, and he draws his hand away. His fingers spread and my arousal, tinged with red, clings between them. The spray of water slowly washes the color away.

I can feel his silent anger in every breath, how it stalls and then releases. It's evident in the way his body moves around me. "He didn't do nothin' wrong," I whisper timidly. "Just—it was too late by the time I realized I didn't want it to be him."

Elvis stills behind me, and his hand comes up to crane my chin around to look at him. His hooded blue eyes are questioning. "He didn't—"

I sniff embarrassedly, a broken huff of a laugh coming out of my mouth. "Pop my cherry? Not necessarily."

As if soaking in my words, Elvis observes my face, thumbing my bottom lip thoughtfully. Then he dips his head down, capturing my lips with his. His mouth is hot and he licks into my mouth. For a moment, I'm painfully conscious of my youth and the years of experience that he has on me. It's obvious that he's done this before, kissed a lot of girls before me. However, I could get drunk on his taste alone, and I go with it, building confidence as he groans into my mouth.

"Want you to do it, El." His large hands feel up and down my body, and he groans again.

"Yeah?" he asks breathily.

"Yeah."

I nearly stumble as he moves us together as one unit, and my back hits the cold wall of the shower. His body is on mine immediately, and I chase his lips, desperate to taste him again. Our mouths connect, consuming each other, savoring the taste.

A gasp escapes my mouth at the sensation of his fingers prodding at my entrance, but he swallows it, pushing in one finger and then adding another. It's uncomfortable at first, and I squirm at the stretch, but then he's curling his fingers and petting at my velvet walls and my vision swims. My eyes must literally roll into the back of my head because he laughs at me.

"That feel good, lil’ girl?" Elvis hums.

It does but it's not what I want.

My attention goes back to his cock, which still sprung alertly against his abdomen, except now it's a flushed red. The head engorged and swollen, begs to be touched, and when I do, it's Elvis' turn for his eyes to roll into the back of his head. I don't know what I'm doing, and he must realize that because he slides his fingers out of me and cradles my jaw, his other hand wrapping around my fist. With his large hand over mine, Elvis drags my hand rhythmically over his cock. I take a guess and drag my thumb over the tip. His hips buck into my fist.

"So good, sweet girl," he rasps in that throaty southern drawl. After stroking himself a while longer, Elvis pulls my hand away from his cock and instead interlocks our fingers above my head.

His eyes find mine, panting heavily in the sliver of space between us.  "I'll be gentle," he promises, and then he's pushing in, the head of his cock pressing deep inside me.

With the slick of my arousal, the stretch is bearable, and quickly turns in to pleasure when he rocks his hips slowly into me. I can feel him hot and full within me. His second thrust is more fluid than the last one, pulling out and then sliding back in one motion. Above my head, my hand squeezes his and he reciprocates the gesture. I keen into his shoulder, biting down each time he drags deliciously in and out of me.

"Doin' so good for me," Elvis praises, kissing my cheeks and neck and lips over and over again. His next thrust has my stomach coiling, bubbling with hot pleasure. When he leans in to kiss me once more, he capture my bottom lip between his teeth and then releases it, leaning in again to kiss the swollen flesh.

"El—" I can hardly utter a coherent sentence. "I'm—" I can feel myself slipping, my mind fogging up.

"It's okay, I've got you. Let go, lil' girl. You can let go."

It feels like a rubber band pops in my stomach, and I moan, clenching around him as I come. Soon Elvis is releasing inside of me as well, claiming my walls with his seed. When he pulls out, I whine at the feeling of emptiness.

Elvis is still pressed into me, as if our bodies have become one entity. His release runs down my legs and pools on the tiles of the shower. Exhausted, I collapse into him. We’re both spent, chests heaving, legs shaking.

He laughs, pecking my swollen lips. "Looks like you need another shower."

[mangoshorthand]

Hii againn, first off I seriously love love LOVE the lucky fucking pillow you did from my first request thank you 🫶 I think this counts as my second request? (I hope it's okay to req again🥺) fluff rather than a smut hehe, this happens after five retired and they live together and reader comes home with a senior cat she decided to adopted (bc it reminded her of five) then he soon comes to love it so much, and up to you! pls a bit of angst. THANKIEE SMM I really enjoyed my first request!! 🩷🩷🩷

You're welkiee again! You can request as often as you like (but I am on hiatus after posting this to work on one or two longer projects). I've saved this one for a bit because I really wanted to do it justice. Sorry it took so long.

Two Old Men | Five Hargreeves / GN Reader Words: 3.3k, rated G

At last, retirement suited him. 

He tried first when he was fifty eight and his body was in its teens, but destiny pulled him kicking and screaming back into the chaos. After all that was all done, he tried again, but it didn’t take.

As it turned out, people don’t retire just because they’re mentally tired, they retire because they’re old, and Five’s body and brain tissue being physically young had left him too full of energy to live a life of idleness.

But now, with his body in its early fifties and his consciousness well into its nineties, he felt the body slowing down enough to allow him to take it easy

So, a year ago, you and he bought a few acres of land in Tompkins County. Five was someone who didn’t like to gush- in fact, he tended to find fault if there was any- but even he had to admit it was perfect: it was near enough to Ithaca to access all the restaurants, shops and bars you enjoyed together, and rural enough to satisfy him in his insistence that you retire somewhere where nightfall brought a view of the cosmos unspoiled by city lights.

The farmhouse was small enough to mean it would be easy enough to keep clean as you both aged, but commodious enough to play host to two or three family members at a time.

For New Year, you actually managed four, but that had involved Klaus staying on a blow-up. He'd insisted that his powers kept his body in tip-top shape but it became apparent the following morning that he'd been talking out of his ass: his elderly back could no longer tolerate such treatment, and Five had wrenched his own in pulling him off the mattress.

No, Five couldn’t complain: he had a couple of project cars to tinker with in the barn, and next year you were planning to try planting a little orchard and vineyard to try your hands at making organic wine. His days were filled with pleasant walks, naps and hobbies, and his nights were spent warm in bed with you: what more could a man want from his retirement?

Now, he stretched out on the veranda, hat shading his eyes and sun warming his limbs. He wondered vaguely whether it was worth adding just one more bedroom. He sort of missed having a house full of guests. Or, even better, maybe he could build himself a better place for the cars (his precious Corvette was vulnerable to rust in the barn right now), and then convert the barn into its own little self-contained-

“Five?”

Your shout came to him on the breeze. He put down his book entirely and squinted at your approaching figure, returning from your afternoon walk. He’d left his glasses inside, so he could only see an indistinct shape in your arms. Your gait seemed unusual. Were you hurt?

“What’s up?” he called back, ignoring the slight twinge in his pelvis as he stood. 

“Look what I’ve found!”

Not hurt: just slightly urgent. He approached curiously, walking off the little stiffness caused by the twinge. He knew there would probably be a point when it was easier to blink to his feet than heave himself up- he could sense it coming the last time his body was in its fifties, but he was damned if he’d do that until his joints were at least pushing eighty.

You came into view.

Apparently, you were wrestling with your sweater.

It writhed in your arms, wriggling and snarling so fiercely that you nearly dropped it on a couple of occassions.

“What the hell?”

“Open the door for me. I found a cat.”

“A cat?" he said, as if he'd never heard of such a creature.

And, sure enough, a pair of bright green eyes glared out from where their owner was bundled up in the sweater: a tightly- wrapped burrito with murder in its heart.

“I don’t want that thing in the house!” he said, as the burrito gave a threatening growl.

“He’s ill, Five.”

Thirty years together had taught him when you meant business. Your tone was conclusive, so he reluctantly opened the front door.

“Put it in the laundry room,” he said, resentfully, “I don’t want it pissing on the furniture.”

“He, Five.” you said, pointedly.

“Yeah, wouldn’t wanna misgender a goddamn cat,” he mumbled, but he opened the laundry room door and stood aside so you could enter before closing it behind you both.

“Okay- stand back,” you said, lowering the writhing sweater onto the tiles. 

Five did step back. He liked dogs, but cats he had no interest in. Let alone one that sounded like it intended them both serious bodily harm. Its constant growls and furious yowls made him feel like he was in the presence of a live grenade. 

For a moment, the bundle wriggled, throwing itself around until the cat finally extracted himself. His long fur was a dark gray black, and those jade eyes peered out threateningly from underneath weeping mange-sores. Immediately, he backed off into a corner, fur all on end and spitting at you both with hackles raised. Though he was doing his level best to appear larger, he was rather small and skinny.

Five looked at you, incredulously. There you were, eyes glistening in adoration as you looked down at the brewing hurricane of claws and teeth. It was the same face he fell in love with. You were slightly older than him physically, but you didn’t look it, especially now that your eyes were filled with an excited gleam: you looked young again. 

“Look at him, Five!”

Suppressing a loving smile, he looked back at the cat, now growling again.

“He’s kinda gross.”

“No he isn’t!” you said, indignantly, “he's an old man and he’s sick.”

You paused for a moment. 

“A bit like you, actually. You’re a sick old man if ever I met one.”

You eyed him knowingly with a little twitch of your eyebrows. Five scowled, but you continued, laughing, as the parallels came upon you one by one.

“He is like you! That must be why I had to bring him home! He’s tiny and old and grumpy and-”

As you said it, the cat let out an indignant, snappish ‘Nyaah’.

“-and he even sounds like you!” you finished, grinning. 

“I’m not tiny,” Five said, grumpily, “I’m only an inch or so shorter than average.”

“Look!” you said, pointing between him and the cat, “you’re pulling the same face.”

“God, I married an idiot,” Five replied, schooling his expression back into neutrality. He looked back at the cat with its teeth bared in a silent hiss.

“It looks like it wants to tear our throats out.”

“I know!” you said, rapturously, “he’s so cute!”

Five shook his head at this absurd non-sequitur.

“Whose is it?”

“I found him near the old Montgomery place. I think he must have belonged to Judy.”

His mouth pulled downwards. Five had known Judy to wave to. She was a nice old lady who lived a few farms over. He’d been sorry to hear of her death.

“That means he’s been surviving on his own for two months,” you said. 

He looked down at the cat, looking rapidly around itself for a route of escape and finding none. It seemed to try to line up a jump onto the counter, but looked wobbly on its back legs as it did so, so it gave up and went back to eyeing them with those lamp-like eyes.

He really was old.

“Well,” Five said, begrudgingly, “you’re gonna have to take him to the vets. See if he’s chipped and get that shit on his face sorted out.”

“Okay!” you said, brightly, looking around the laundry room with a thoughtful look, “can you blink and get me some twine from the kitchen so we don’t have to open the door.”

“Twine?”

“You just watch.”

***

With many claw marks on your forearms but still smiling like an idiot, you drove the cat to the vets with it trapped in a plastic laundry basket with an identical one on top secured with twine. Five watched you down the drive with a fond shake of the head and returned to his book. There was still a good hour or so of warm, early-afternoon sun before he’d have to go inside and get a jacket.

He spent the afternoon peacefully, sipping a cold beer and occasionally letting his book rest on his chest while he watched the thick cirrocumulous cloud cover crawling gradually by.

When he was forty, he only barely lived through the worst apocalyptic winter. Fuel was low, and he'd been prevented from finding more or seeking shelter elsewhere by the deepest snow drifts he ever experienced.

Out of one of these, he’d dug himself and Dolores a little snow-shelter. He distinctly remembered trying to dry his soaking gloves over the smoldering embers of his last burnable supplies and looking down at his red fingers.

'If I survive this,' he thought then, 'this will all be a memory one day. I can look back on this when I’m warm and comfortable. I can sit in the sun and remember how lucky I am to be there. This is good, actually, because it’ll teach me to be grateful.'

And, although he’d only thought that way to get him through that night, it had actually worked, because Five remembered it now. He remembered the pain in his joints from the physical labor and the burning of his frostbitten fingers and toes. He took a moment to glory in the contrast between then and now.

Back then, he’d only been thinking about surviving until the thaw or the following summer, but now he had more happiness and more comfort than he ever dared to imagine then. He was warm, he was safe, he was home, and he would fall asleep tonight held tight in your arms. 

With a warm feeling in his chest, he closed his eyes. 

He only awoke from the slight doze at the sound of the car pulling up.

“Hey,” he said, without opening his eyes, “is it all done with? Cat at the shelter?”

“Nyyaaahhh!”

The truculent noise was more than enough to answer his question. Damn cat couldn’t even meow right.

He opened his eyes to see you standing there with the cat in a brand new carrier and a huge bag from the pet store in another.

“Woah, hey!” he said, dismayed, “We didn’t talk about this!”

“Please, Five,” you said, wheedling, “he has nobody else. They read his chip and he was Judy’s. The vet said he’s too old to get adopted and he’d probably die at a shelter.”

“No, I am not keeping that thing in the house,” he protested, “I got this strange liking to having both my eyes!”

He relented slightly at the sight of your pout.

“Fine. He can stay, but he can live in the barn.”

“You go live in the barn,” you said, resentfully, taking the cat and the supplies into the house despite his protestations.

An argument ensued, an argument that didn’t settle down until you both turned in for bed.

When the cat was shut downstairs for the night, fed, bedded and given the run of the kitchen and laundry room, you slid into bed beside Five without acknowledging him. 

Five sat there for a minute or so with his arms folded and a scowl on his face. At last, he spoke:

“Fine,” he said, “he can stay in the house, but I got two conditions.”

You gave a small squee and kissed him full on the mouth, squashing his mustache with your fervor. You knew that the thin end of the wedge was embedded. Whatever Five’s conditions were, the cat would find his way around them in time.

“All right, all right,” Five said, from between your hands on his cheeks. Though he was trying to sound stern, suppressing his smile was difficult.

“Number one,” he said, holding up a finger, “he doesn’t get to go beyond the kitchen. I don’t want him ruining our stuff. We’ll get a cat door and he can go out and do whatever cats do during the day, and he can sleep and eat here.”

“Okay,” you said, though with no intention of sticking to this agreement. 

Five put up a second finger.

“And two, I get to name him.”

“He already has a name,” you said, bemused, “Judy called him Mr Cuddles, I think.”

“That’s a dumb name,” Five grumbled, “I’m calling him Timothy.”

“Timothy?”

“Timothy.” he said, decisively, “take it or leave it.”

“Can we call him Tim?”

“Nope,” Five said, obstinately, “Timothy.”

***

Timothy didn’t like to be touched. It took him six weeks to tolerate you petting him without tensing up, though it was clear he didn’t really enjoy it. Being picked up was still an absolute no-go, as that would necessitate touching his tummy. That, you were learning, was a guaranteed bite. 

Despite this, things had improved for Timothy since he arrived. His mange was gone and he’d grown in confidence, greeting you each morning with a polite ‘Nyah’, and even conferring the odd friendly chirrup upon you now and again.

You spent hours in the kitchen with him, just sitting there, drinking tea and tempting him towards you with treats. You were getting on fine, and Timothy clearly already felt like he owned the place, coming and going as he wished and sunning himself on the veranda.

You were besotted, and Five was happy for you, (anything that made your eyes light up that way was fine by him), but mostly he ignored Timothy, carrying on just the same as ever. 

One afternoon, however, Five was in the barn, lying on his mechanic’s creeper under his jacked up 1967 Pontiac. There was a worrying leak coming from somewhere, and, having got so far fixing her up on his own, he was hoping to avoid having to take her into the shop in town.

So intent was he on inspecting the engine bay, he didn’t notice that he wasn’t the only one beneath the car until Timothy was less than an inch from his face. 

“Nyaaah?”

Five startled, dropping his flashlight and cursing. 

“Shit!”

Timothy’s ears flattened against his head, and he backed off rapidly, stopping a few feet away before hissing at Five, ill-naturedly.

“Stupid cat,” Five muttered, composing himself and returning to the job at hand. 

As he continued to work, he stayed aware of Timothy stalking around the car. At one point, he heard a small flump that meant he’d jumped through the Pontiac’s open door. 

“Watch the the interior,” Five grumbled, “that’s the original naugahyde. You know how much I paid for her?”

“Nyah.”

“Yup,” he said, “and if you scratch up or pee on any of it, I’ll replace it with catskin. Understood?”

“Nyah,” Timothy repeated.

“Good.”

He became absorbed again, listening to Timothy’s paws pattering around on his precious upholstery. The leak was hard to identify. He chewed at his lower lip and considered before muttering to himself.

“It was brown, so that’s gotta be transmission fluid, right? Maybe brake fluid? Hell, maybe it’s just oil.”

“Nyah.”

“Could be a lube oil leak, I guess,” he said, as if Timothy had suggested this, “but it doesn’t smell bad.”

Timothy landed with only a slight stumble when he jumped down. Five felt the cat butt up and rub himself against his feet where they stuck out from underneath the car. 

He tinkered for another fifteen minutes to no avail. He could feel his joints starting to stiffen, so he wheeled himself out from under the car to find Timothy watching him, sitting neatly in a shaft of sunlight at the barn door.

He gave Five a slow blink. 

Five wasn’t au fait with cat communication, but the gesture seemed friendly, so he nodded slightly awkwardly at him in acknowledgement. 

***

Over the next week or so, Timothy honored Five with his company whenever he worked on the Pontiac.

Five supposed it was a hangover from his life with Dolores, but he found he worked better when he had a presence with him to talk to. Verbalizing his thought processes nearly always helped him problem-solve.

It took him a few days to identify the problem and, just as he was starting to fix it, a sound like an idling Harley Davidson made him look around confusedly for the source. He thought for one, wild moment that the key had been turned in the Pontiac’s ignition but apparently not: as it turned out, this was just how Timothy purred.

He was sitting a few feet away, watching Five work under the car and purring in the warmth of the sunlight. When he saw Five looking, he gave another of those contented slow blinks.

That night, Five didn’t shut Timothy in the kitchen when he went to bed.

***

It was a balmy summer afternoon. You and Five were sitting on the veranda on the twin loungers, drinking iced tea and talking in an idle fashion about building another bedroom. 

You favored converting the attic, while Five wanted a full barn conversion.  He talked convincingly about how nice it would be to have his niblings and their families over to stay for a few weeks at a stretch, but you suspected it actually had much more to do with the opportunity to build himself a proper mechanic’s shop on the property. He talked about how nice it would be to spend more time with the kids, but you could see the ghost of a hydraulic vehicle lift behind his eyes: there would be no more lying uncomfortably on the creeper then.

But, the decision left unmade, Five had talked himself into a nap. His hand had long since dropped from where you’d been holding it between the two loungers, and he was now sound asleep with his hat over his face.

You were engrossed with a book, relaxed and listening to Five’s soft little snores. It was good he was having a nap now, you thought. Tonight, you’d planned to wait up until it got dark out and stargaze on a rug spread in the back field, like you did when you were younger.

“Nyaah?”

Timothy padded into sight, piercing green eyes x-raying you with assessment. This was another similarity to your husband: even after all these years, Five regularly looked at you as if he were still making up his mind about you. 

You patted your thigh, hoping to encourage Timothy onto your lap, but he declined the offer and wandered over to sniff Five’s empty glass instead. Apparently finding nothing to his liking, he looked up at Five.

You watched, shocked, as Timothy first gauged the jump, then decided it was within his capabilities and finally shuffled backwards to line himself up. In a mildly ungainly fashion, he made the leap and walked confidently along Five’s chest until he reached the softer padding of his belly. There, Timothy kneaded him gently before he settled down, turning around and around in a circle before curling up neatly.

This was just typical, you thought, as Timothy began to purr loudly. You’d worked your ass off to get this cat to like you and he still barely tolerated you petting him. All the while, Five had treated Timothy with indifference bordering on dislike and this is how he responded?

As you watched, trying hard not to feel slightly offended, Five stirred and muttered something in which only the word “cat” was discernible. His arms came sleepily up, his fingers laced together and his hands laid themselves across the cat’s abdomen. 

Timothy stiffened and made a small, slightly unhappy noise at the unexpected touch, but, after a moment of evaluation, apparently decided to tolerate it. He lay his head back down and closed his eyes.

For a moment, you shook your head and watched the two crotchety old men sleep. Then, smiling, you returned to your book.

Request masterlist >> HERE

Tag list: (please comment to be added or removed): @thebearmage, @nevbrooke-555

NOTE: I take Five requests, I'm fairly versatile in what I write (fluff, smut, angst, psychological character study- I'll try it all) but I will consider them on a case by case basis. See masterlist for request status and more.

[barnesbabee]

[P]raise PT2 || P.S

[ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴇɴᴄʏᴄʟᴏᴘᴇᴅɪᴀ - ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ P2]

Summary: Everyone gets distracted in class every so often, but not everyone is as lucky to have a hot professor to be distracted by.

Pairing: DILF!Park Seonghwa x female!reader (ft. Wooyoung)

Words: yup, after careful analysis, I can tell there are definitely a couple of them

Genre: Smut

[PART 1]

⚠ unprotected sex ⚠

Seonghwa put a stop to whatever your weird relationship was meant to be after a couple other encounters. It was filthy and intense. There were no feelings attached, just pure lust and desire for one another. It had been four weeks, but if you closed your eyes and concentrated you could still feel his hand over your mouth, blocking the sinful sounds you couldn't help but make, and the way he rhythmically pounded into you from behind.

Sometimes you'd miss class to avoid having to look at him, to avoid the overwhelming feeling of neediness whenever you landed eyes on him, but you still needed to pass.

Whenever you missed Seonghwa was just as happy. He didn't want to end it, shit he felt like you were just what he needed to escape his boring life, but it was too risky, and whenever you came around sinful thoughts of taking you right then and there in front of everyone.

All of this pent-up frustration was making you both angry, not at each other specifically, but just in general, and Seonghwa was about to be a lot angrier.

Ever since you and your teacher happened, you had turned down every single attempt of guys and girls trying to get in your pants, whether you were drunk or sober. Not because you didn't want to have sex, but because no one turned you on like Seonghwa, no one could make you feel what Seonghwa made you feel when you looked into his eyes that night. That fact became known around the university, how "hard to get" you were, and of course, that made you a lot more desirable for the people who liked a challenge.

One of those people was none other than Jung Wooyoung. How he got into university was a case to be studied. People knew he was enrolled in the university not because he actually bothered to go to classes, but because he went to every single party thrown by people in the university. If there were two parties on the same day he would make sure to go to both, he just had to be there.

So it was weird when he suddenly started going to class... Not only because he was inside the actual university building, but because he was only going to Mr. Park's class. But once he began talking to you and getting closer, everyone understood the scheme.

"So, going to the party tonight?" Wooyoung asked as he leaned on the table in front of you.

You stopped putting your stuff away and looked at him.

"Whose party?"

"I'll be fucked if I know, I just get texted the address by some friends who actively attend the classes and show up. I figured you'd know."

You shoved your computer into your bag and the sound of the zipper echoed in the room.

"I don't know, got a lot of catching up to do on this class apparently, should stay home and study." You replied, picking up your bag and starting to walk away.

Wooyoung grabbed your wrist, stopping you from walking away. Seonghwa, who was putting his things away painfully slow to witness the whole interaction was getting angry.

"Come on, princess. I'd love to see you there."

You could see Seonghwa staring over Wooyoung's shoulder. You glanced at him briefly, and he immediately averted his gaze.

Wooyoung was hot, very hot. And he definitely seemed fun, and like the type of guy that wouldn't catch feelings after sex. There was no reason for you to keep sabotaging yourself and keeping yourself from having fun with sex just because of your teacher.

"I'll be there. What kind of party is it? What should I wear?" You answered, finally.

"Just a regular house party. You can wear anything you want, I bet someone like you could pull up with sweatpants and still steal the show." He cheekily said, before winking at you and leaving the room.

Seonghwa rolled his eyes. He honestly didn't understand why you agreed. Like, really? Wooyoung would be his successor?

"It's fucking weird to spy on people's conversations." You said loudly, for Seonghwa to hear, before leaving the classroom.

The man wasn't aware of how painfully obvious he was being, but staying in the classroom packing one book into a bag for five minutes was very noticeable.

You managed to get some study in before getting ready for the party, and you really didn't want to go all out because that would mean a lot more work to take it all off when you eventually got home wasted.

As you were making your way to the party, Seonghwa wondered if he should go. He was definitely within the acceptable age group... Would it be too bad? He would definitely get recognized by some of his students though, and he decided that once more, for the sake of his career, he would have to sit this one out.

You on the other hand were doing the opposite of sitting it out, you downed 3 tequila shots as soon as you got there, and Wooyoung approached you with a red solo cup full of God knows what.

"You sure know how to party." Wooyoung yelled in your ear, so you could hear him over the loud music.

He handed you the cup and winked.

"Nothing compared to the king of the university." You told him.

After the whole Seonghwa ordeal, you began going out. At first, you did it in an attempt of finding someone with the same chemistry you two had, but after a while, you took a liking to it. There was a certain freeing and adventurous feeling that came with the alcohol, and you kept chasing it.

Wooyoung licked his lips and grabbed your waist with one hand, pulling you closer ever so slightly.

"You flatter me."

You looked at his hand, and at the way his thumb caressed your slightly exposed hip bone. When you looked back up at his face his eyes were locked on your lips.

"You're very discrete." You joked, with a smile, at how obvious he was being.

"Come on princess, surely you knew that when I asked you here I wasn't thinking of revising the class."

His hand slowly trailed up to your cheek and his lips approached yours, slowly, giving you space and time to step away if you chose to. Instead, you leaned into his touch and tilted your head slightly.

"Really?" You said, mocking him.

You saw a slight smile on his lips before he kissed you. It was slow and enticing, and you felt yourself melting against his body, your hands gripping his biceps.

You had to admit, Wooyoung was an exceptionally good kisser, and this time you actually felt something sparking within you.

"I'm sure they'd love to see the whole show, but should we take this somewhere more private?" The man asked you, his hands sneaking behind you to grab your ass.

You bit your lip and nodded. Wooyoung, happy with the response, grabbed your hand and guided you through the crowd. He stopped in front of a door and tried the knob, but to no avail. Wooyoung banged on the door.

"Get the fuck out!" He yelled.

"I'm taking a piss!" The person inside replied.

"I don't give a shit if you're pissing or having a wank, out."

A couple seconds later a disgruntled guy left the bathroom and Wooyoung pulled you inside. He locked the door and proceeded to pin you against it, assertively yet softly so he wouldn't hurt you.

"If you want to stop," he paused, delivering a couple open-mouthed kisses "tell me."

It surprised you how Wooyoung, seemingly a careless player, actually made sure to make you feel safe.

His hands grabbed your ass, pulling your crotch closer to his. You could feel his cock beginning to harden as he sucked and bit your neck. One of your hands rested on the back of his neck while the other slightly gripped his hair.

Wooyoung's attention turned back to your lips and, grabbing your waist, he moved you until your ass bumped against the hard, marble counter. The man started slowly undoing your pants and pulling them down just enough so your ass was exposed. He then turned you around and you instinctively somewhat bent down and held yourself up by placing your hands on the counter.

The man pulled your panties down, always keeping an eye on the mirror in front of you, analyzing you expression.

"Fuck Y/N, great ass." He complimented as he began taking his own pants off.

You giggled and playfully wiggled your ass. Wooyoung bit his lower lip and smacked your ass.

He stroked his dick for a second before slipping in a condom as fast as possible. Wooyoung aligned his cock with your entrance and slowly pushed himself inside of you.

"Shit- fuck." You cursed, not expecting him to be so big.

You gripped the counter when Wooyoung picked up the pace. Even with the loud music outside, you could hear the sound of skin slapping and his low grunts.

"You feel so good princess, shit."

Wooyoung gripped your hair and tugged on it, making you look at the mirror in front of you.

"I want you to see how good you look when you're getting fucked."

The dirty talk was working wonders on you, and the way you tightened around his cock made him go faster and harder.

Wooyoung would make sure to slap your ass and whisper to you how good you were doing and, after a couple minutes, he came. Wooyoung, like a gentleman, fingered you until you came as well.

You both took a second to calm down in the bathroom, and you were drained. The alcohol had worn out too, so you told him you were going to head home.

"I'll take you." Wooyoung offered.

"It's alright, you don't need to."

"No self-respecting guy would let a girl go home alone this late, come on."

He dropped you off at home and waved goodbye as he sped off, presumably home as well. The next day you skipped classes, you were hungover, tired, and honestly a little sore.

After your painfully hungover day passed you had to peel yourself off of your bed and drag yourself to Park Seonghwa's class. You wanted to skip it once again but he'd probably flunk you if you kept missing his classes. Plus, Wooyoung would probably be there to see you.

When you got into class Seonghwa was already there, as per usual. He would usually be there early to set up the class, but so was Wooyoung. He winked at you and smiled. You smiled at him but tried to avert your gaze, so he wouldn't see how embarrassed you felt as the memories from 2 days ago came crashing over you.

You sat a couple tables away from him, and watched as he got up from his chair and pulled it to sit on your table.

"That bad, huh?" Wooyoung asked, thinking you were avoiding him.

"What? No, no, it was great, really, I'm just... a little shy."

"Wouldn't've pegged you for the shy type," he paused, leaning in to whisper in your ear "given how loud you were moaning when I was fucking you in that bathroom."

You felt your whole body heat up and smacked him in the chest.

"Asshole." You said, jokingly as you both laughed.

Seonghwa couldn't wait for it to be time to start the class so he could end that annoying fucking interaction. He didn't like you, at least he was pretty sure he didn't, but the way he couldn't have you frustrated him. Seonghwa wanted your body, he wanted to hear your pretty voice beg, and seeing another guy just sweep in and get all of that when he himself had to give it all up... it was frustrating.

"Right everyone take your seats, at your own tables, please, and let's begin."

You rolled your eyes at the comment. Wooyoung was oblivious but you knew very well it was meant to be a dig at you.

Nevertheless, you painfully paid attention to the class because despite everything you still needed to pass.

At some point, Seonghwa had finished explaining something and started asking questions, however, for the first one, he specifically called Wooyoung. Seonghwa was a big apologist of not calling anyone specifically to answer because he didn't want anyone to feel anxious to answer, he didn't want his students to feel embarrassed if they made a mistake, so Seonghwa asked the question for everyone to hear and waited until someone volunteered. That is how you knew he was trying to screw Wooyoung. Seonghwa was fully aware that he usually wasn't present in classes, so instead of letting him answer something wrong, you jumped in and replied instead, being just as petty as Seonghwa.

"That's correct but I didn't ask you, miss Y/N. I asked Mr. Wooyoung, please refrain from speaking if you're not called to do so."

"You never ask anyone specifically and allow us to answer, why would this time be different?"

The class fell silent and Seonghwa was red with anger. He took a deep breath and regained his composure.

"Miss Y/N please see me after class."

"No thank you."

The class now echoed with whispers and giggles. You had never been disrespectful to a teacher, ever, and neither did you have the habit of starting shit. You were generally liked by them even, so this was shocking to everyone.

"It wasn't a question."

You opened your mouth for another snarky remark but Seonghwa stopped you.

"Enough. I don't wanna hear anything else, you come see me after class and that's it. Let's continue."

The remaining 30 minutes were very tense for everyone, and when class ended everyone nearly bolted out to gossip about everything.

Before leaving Wooyoung mouthed "You good?" to which you replied with a thumbs up.

The second you heard the door close behind the last student, you walked up to his desk.

"What is wrong with you!?" You whisper-yelled.

"What's wrong with me!? What is wrong with you! How fucking dare you disrespect me like that in my classroom just because you're angry I don't fuck you anymore."

"I'm not angry you don't fuck me anymore, I'm angry 'cause you fucking dropped me with no explanation and now you're acting like a dick because of Wooyoung and I. Don't pretend to call on him to answer a question today wasn't meant to embarrass him, you know damn fucking well he never shows up to class."

He was taken aback and swallowed dryly.

"We weren't fucking dating I don't owe you an explanation! And no matter what you and I do or don't do should stay the fuck out of this classroom, it was incredibly immature of you to do that."

"As if you weren't being immature. And I think after being balls deep in me I deserve more than just 'We should stop, goodbye'." You said through gritted teeth, mimicking the last text he sent you.

Seonghwa got closer to you, your bodies almost touching and darkness in his eyes you had never seen before.

"I had to stop fucking you because I'm your fucking teacher. If I got caught I'd get fucking fired. I wanna bend you over and have you every day you step in this classroom but I can't, okay? That's why I can't handle Wooyoung 'cause I want you and can't have you."

Anger dripped from every word he spoke. The atmosphere was tense and heavy, the repressed feelings of desperation and exasperation finally coming to the surface.

You scoffed.

"You're pathetic."

Seonghwa raised his eyebrows in shock and placed his hands on his chest, motioning toward himself.

"I'm pathetic? You're the one who's behaving like a kid because you can't take rejection."

"No, Seonghwa, you're pathetic because you constantly bitched about how fun whatever we had was and how freeing it was because you felt like you wasted your 'young years' and then you turn around and throw that shit out of the window. Are you actually gonna make time for yourself in your life or are you going to keep self-sabotaging yourself!?"

"I have a daughter to raise, Y/N! I can't just risk everything for some fun!"

"Yeah and that daughter will grow up and then you'll be almost 40 and then you're gonna try to have the fun you didn't have and you're just gonna look like those freshly divorced weird men who go to clubs alone to pick up 20-year-olds!"

There was silence. Seonghwa's chest rose and fell rapidly, and suddenly he fell back onto his chair and hunched over. His face was covered by the palms of his hands when you heard muffled sobs.

Shit. That was not the outcome you expected. You slowly approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Seonghwa? I-I'm sorry I didn't mean that."

He straightened himself up in his chair and looked at you. His cheeks were red and wet, and his eyes revealed pain and anxiety.

"You did, and you're right. You're right. She's gonna grow up and have her own life and I'll be left with nothing but work. No hobbies, no friends, no memories to re-live, nothing. But I'm so afraid that I'll get fired and that I will struggle to give her the life that she deserves. She's my world but sometimes... Sometimes I wish I had more time to live."

You sat on his lap and wiped his tears.

"You're already giving her the life she deserves. You give her so much love, she has food, a roof over her head, a comfortable bed, a safe place to be in, clothes, and a dad that cares for her unconditionally. But you need to live your life too, you're also a person."

"You're right, you're so fucking right." He thought.

Without questioning himself twice, he kissed you. A simple soft, kiss, to test the waters.

"Seonghwa if you don't want to we don't have to-"

"I want to. I fucking want to so bad."

You took that as an invitation to kiss him. This time deeper, and needier. His hands were all over your body as if exploring what he had missed the past weeks and reminiscing your curves.

"My daughter isn't out till 3, meet me at my house. I want to make up for all I've lost." He told you with a sly smile.

"Yes, Sir."

He bit his lip as he smiled at the nickname. Seonghwa slapped your ass before you stood up, and you went separate ways to the same destination.

Once you got to his house, the door was agape, so you invited yourself in and closed the door behind you.

"Seonghwa?"

No response.

You walked up the stairs, and into his bedroom.

"I see you remember where it is." He said when he heard you come into the room.

Seonghwa turned around to face you. He was dressed in nothing but dress pants, and you couldn't stop yourself from admiring his well-sculpted torso.

"Strip."

"What? No please?" You joked as you removed your shirt.

He walked over to you and waited until you were fully naked.

"Oh, princess, after the stunt you pulled today," Seonghwa paused, running his fingers over your hardened nipples "the only pleading around here will be coming from you."

He spanked your ass before you could reply.

"On your knees, you know what to do."

You obeyed without a word, dropping to your knees and undoing his zipper. He was wearing no boxers, making it easier for you to access his hard cock. You covered it in your spit before pumping his dick a couple times. You then wrapped your lips around his tip, taking more and more of him every time you bobbed your head. Your hand followed the movement of your mouth.

"Shit, you feel so good."

Seonghwa had his head thrown back and hand tangled in your hair, pushing your head down from time to time.

He started thrusting into your mouth, making you choke on his cock as he did so.

"Shit, fuck- you're such a good girl, you take it so well."

You hummed around his cock, trying to mumble a 'thank you sir' as you gripped his thighs. Seonghwa pulled out when he felt his orgasm build up.

His hand wrapped around your neck and pulled you up. He then pulled you toward himself and kissed you roughly, guiding you towards the bed by your neck.

"On all fours, princess."

"Yes, Sir."

You complied and he smiled and smacked your ass.

"What a good girl..."

Your wetness spread with his small praises. You felt the bed dip behind you and moaned when his lips came into contact with your pussy.

"Shit, fuck-"

Seonghwa slapped your ass and then moved one hand to rub your clit as the other held one of your asscheeks. The way his tongue swirled between your folds made you grip the sheets. Seonghwa's hips began rocking against the bed, hoping for some friction as he wanted to give you more pleasure but your filthy moans weren't helping.

When he couldn't take it any longer, he got on the bed and knelt behind you, immediately inserting his tip in, and moving painfully slow.

"Fuck, Seonghwa please, I need you to-" You yelped at his spank before you could finish the sentence.

"What did you call me?"

"Sorry- Sir, please fuck me, I need you inside me."

Seonghwa gripped your waist and bottomed inside you, causing you to let out a loud 'Fuck!'.

As both of you were already on edge, he didn't go easy on you. He was relentlessly ramming into you, quickly and with force. The bed rocked and the headboard slammed against a wall, but nothing as loud as your moans and pleads. Seonghwa didn't hold back either.

"Shit you take me so well, you're such a good fucking girl princess, I love being inside you."

Your arms gave in, and your face was plastered on his pillow. Seonghwa grabbed your wrists and held them behind your back. He loved the control he had over you.

"Tell me how much you love my cock in you, princess."

"Shit I love it- s-so much, you make me feel so good, Sir."

"That's right, you're mine to fuck. All mine, got it?"

"Yes, sir! F-fuck I'm almost-"

Seonghwa quickened the pace.

"Cum on my cock princess, come on."

A couple more thrusts and your walls tightened around his cock. You came with a mix of a shriek and a moan. Seonghwa had no time to ride you out of your high, as he immediately pulled out to spill all over your ass, and he had to admit, your ass covered in his cum was the best view he had ever seen.

He helped you turn around and face the ceiling so you could breathe better. Seonghwa removed all the little strands of hair that were stuck on your face due to the sweat and kissed your forehead before laying down next to you.

"Shit that was... that was amazing." You said, still trying to regain your breath.

Seonghwa laughed and pulled you closer.

"It was..."

There was a short silence, before Seonghwa's hand began roaming your body once more.

"Already?" You asked between giggles.

"Yes, princess. After this one I'm calling her grandma to pick her up so you can spend the night here."

Seonghwa hovered over you and kissed your lips.

"We have a lot of catching up to do."