#i had to take a break my dog died

[murdersansy]

They are his parents your honor.

(They are probably talking to the buckley parents. I hate them.)

My current hyperfixation 9-1-1! I also have been practicing and evolving my art since the last time I shared something(which was a while ago.) I freaking love Buck to no ends.

[digitaldiseas3]

extremely frustrating situation

[bardicbeetle]

…

[iamthepulta]

I put the clothes in the washer on a whim and now I don't want to rotate them. I'm in bed with cat :( :( I have tea and I sent my last email for the night and now I want to hide and die.

I'm supposed to host a board game night tomorrow and that is like- the last thing I want to do.

[theangrycomet]

can this year get any worse

[cloudystevie]

scary my god you're divine

»» ──────ஓ๑ ღ ๑ஓ ────── ««

pairing || bucky barnes x f!reader

word count || 3235

summary || he would do anything for you.

warnings || smut! dom! bucky x sub! reader, possessive! bucky, a little bit of subspace, choking, little bit of exhibitionism kink, minor pain play, daddy kink (only three times okay i'm sorry i am who i am), degradation, unprotected sex

author's note || 18+ ONLY. not proofread yet. my very first request in a very long time! Anonymous asked: Could you write a Dombucky x Subreader? And if you wouldn't mind jealous!bucky, already established relationship and his dog tags on reader? hope you enjoy nonnie! as always feel free to send in requests or any asks! feel free to reblog! enjoy!

»» ──────ஓ๑ ღ ๑ஓ ────── ««

Today, a select few from the team are supposed to train the new agents, preparing them for the physical aspect of being an agent. Some made it fun or tolerable, like Steve and Sam, who were born leaders and charismatic. Natasha and Wanda enjoyed supervising the sparring sessions. Tony and Bruce enjoyed using technology to throw new obstacles at the agents.

Sometimes literally.

Unfortunately, your grumpy boyfriend, Bucky, just did not find any joy in training days. He didn’t like giving out instructions and praise unless it was you who was under him. He didn’t like supervising weak punches and miscalculated throws. And technology was just a straight-up no for him.

Usually, he could make himself useful with Steve, throwing out no-nonsense orders without making himself a massive part of the effort.

You were taking the elevator down to the gym floor. Fury had instructed you to check everything out and ensure everything went according to the itinerary. 

The doors open, and you glance around to ensure no immediate problems before letting your gaze fall on Bucky; his eyes are already on you. You offer him a bright smile, which he returns with a smirk, and your stomach flutters like it does every time you see him. You’re about 7 feet away from your boyfriend before you feel a hand on your lower back. You startle and turn around to face the newest agent. He has quickly climbed through all of SHIELD’s tests and proven himself to be of great value. He chatted you up last week at Tony’s charity ball, and you tried to let him down gently since you were already happily taken. Bucky was on a mission that day, and you didn’t want to add to his mental load by telling him about some punk who wouldn’t leave you alone.

Apparently, said punk, cannot take no for an answer.

“Back for more, cutie? You finally break up with your imaginary boyfriend?” Marcus teases, but really, he sounds more taunting than playful. You glance over your shoulder as you move away from his grip, and you already see Bucky glaring directly at the spot where Marcus’ hand was on your back. The stopwatch he was holding in his flesh hand shatters, and he doesn’t even flinch when Steve and Sam apologize for him, asking what was wrong as discreetly as they could but one glance over to where you were uncomfortably held hostage by the lean brunet man told them everything they needed to know. 

Bucky cracks his neck, rolling his shoulders up as he stalks towards you two. His looming presence is felt before you can see him in your peripheral vision. You glance up at him and take an instinctive step back toward his hulking body, breathing a sigh of relief because Marcus has to let up now.

He doesn’t.

“Oh hey, Sergeant Barnes, if you don’t mind I’m actually trying to talk to this chick so…” 

The way he talks about you as if you’re not right there makes you physically recoil. Bucky’s eyes harden; he’s not even squaring up to his full stature, and he already easily dwarfs Marcus. Bucky takes a step forward, and everyone in the room comes to a standstill. Everyone shuddering at the sheer anger rolling off of Bucky and the stupidity of Marcus.

Marcus huffs out a laugh. Maybe he gets a little pasty when he’s nervous because he seems to be digging himself a deeper hole when he says something about how many girls fall at his feet and Sarge, you've got to calm down. She’s not worth all that.

In an instant, Steve and Sam command everyone to return to their tasks, and the room begins to bustle again, but with a specific weary energy that was not there before. The very next second, Marcus is picked up by the collar of his black t-shirt and slammed against the wall, the room rattling with the force of it as all the recruits try to ignore the spectacle before them. 

“Touch her again, and I will kill you,” Bucky promises. “If you look at her, I will kill you. If you even think about her, I will fucking kill you. Understand?” His voice is a low grumble, the words resounding and reverberating as you watch Marcus sputter out panicked apologies and his flailing body while Bucky still looks so self-assured and composed. It's as if he’s not scaring a man to death while simultaneously making you drool.

You call out Bucky’s name, and he looks at you over his shoulder, pinning Marcus with one final glare and shove before letting him go as the agent does the walk of shame to the washroom. It’s almost like you’re frozen in your spot. You’ve seen Bucky get aggressive on missions before, but watching him be so willing to defend you, stand up for you when you couldn’t, not even hesitating for a second when he threatened to kill for you. And the worst part is, you were confident he was dead serious. 

Even worse, something about the principle of the situation was really doing it for you.

On the outside, it might have seemed like you were in shock or panic due to the agents’ actions, so Bucky whisked you away to a private interrogation room on the floor above the gym. The whole elevator ride there, his hand is protectively on your lower back, and you just watch the rigid set of his jaw and the anger and possessiveness written all over his features with unmistakable doe eyes. The air in the elevator is thick, and neither of you says a word. Before you know it, Bucky is easily lifting you and placing you on the metal table in the middle of the dull room, and his eyes are scanning yours for any hint of panic or if you’re upset. His hands cup your face gently, the cool vibranium soothing against your heated skin, and he finally breaks the silence. “You’ve gotta say something, baby. Are you okay? After this, that idiot’s going to be gone. I’m sorry if seeing me like that upset you, sweetheart-” Your rushed words cut off his ramble, “I thought that was really hot.” You say quietly and watch as Bucky’s face contorts from one of worry to one of confusion. 

“The way you stood up for me, you were so nonchalant about killing for me. I can’t lie, James. That kind of did something for me.” You continue, biting your lip and scanning him for his reaction, hoping he didn’t take your words in the wrong way. 

He’s silent for a moment. His chest moving steadily with each breath against yours. 

The next moment, his lips are pressed against yours, and you let a surprised squeak out. Your mouth slots open when his wandering hands roughly squeeze your thigh through your satin pants, getting dangerously close to the heat pulsing between your thighs. Taking advantage of your open mouth, Bucky slips his tongue inside your mouth and you buck your hips to seek some friction against your needy core. The kiss is passionate and renders your breathless as he consumes all of your senses. All you can think, see, smell, hear, and feel is James. 

His name falls from your lips in a gasp, you reluctantly pull away to catch your breath, letting your head lull to the side when he peppers sloppy kisses all over your jaw, trailing down your neck and biting and licking on your sweet spot. You swat at his firm bicep, “You’re gonna leave a mark James, stop it.” Your attempt at scolding him is weak, even to your own ears.

You feel Bucky smirk against your sensitive neck, his wandering hands cupping your ass and shamelessly groping and swatting at you. “Oh really? That’s too bad baby. Gonna be a pain to cover up.” He remarks, voice dripping in cockiness.

You scoff and bite back a whimper when he grinds his undoubtedly hard length against your clothed center. Your hands shoot out to stabilize yourself by holding onto his shoulders, a shiver crawling up your spine when a particularly slow grind nudges your aching clit. “You’re such a bad influence you know that?” Your voice lacks any real conviction. Your hips move in tandem with his, both of you sharing messy kisses and your bodies thrumming with lust and pent up energy. 

“I’ll kill anyone who even thinks about looking at you.” Bucky says assuredly, and you can’t help the mewl that escapes your lips at his words. Your hands shakily going to undo his black jeans as he messily pulls yours pants down, being considerate enough not to rip them considering there was still a little more than an hour until the SHIELD training day was over. “Bucky I need you, need you to please-” Your voice is shaky and desperate, as you struggle to unbutton his jeans. He shushes you gently, cooing at you sweetly as he easily unbuttons his jeans, just enough for you to promptly pull out his erect cock. Your mouth practically waters at his length and girth, and you spit onto your hand and begin rubbing his length, swiping your thumb gently over the tip making him hiss and push his hips into your hand. 

You bite your lip and look up at him through hooded eyes, and he slaps your hand away before tearing your panties in half, the top half covering your swollen clit and the bottom scrap of fabric falling limply against the cool table. You barely have time to scold him for ripping your panties before he’s shoving his whole length inside you in one fluid thrust. Your back arches, your legs wrapping around his waist as your buddy erupts in a shiver, a short scream escaping your lips. He swallows the noise with his mouth pressed against yours as he grunts into your mouth, waiting only a short second before he begins to thrust inside you. His thrusts are slow but hard, making the heavy metal table scrape against the floor with the force of each pass of his hips into yours. 

“You’re mine, mine to touch. Mine to have. Mine to take care of.” Bucky grunts out, his movements picking up in pace as emotion swirls in his voice, his metal hand covering your neck, forcing you to stay upright in a position that allowed you to feel all of him. You sob out, digging your nails into his bicep and nodding your head, already succumbing to that foggy feeling you felt when you were so close to your boyfriend. He tuts at you, swatting your face with his flesh hand with enough force to make you moan out and clench around his length. 

“Nuh-uh sweetheart, you’re not going dumb on me that quick. Use your words, tell me you’re mine. Tell me I’m yours.” His voice is commanding and you force yourself to look at him, pulling on his shirt and tugging on his dog tugs to get him closer, your foreheads pressing against each other as his thrusts continue to get faster. “I’m yours James, only yours. You’re only mine. No one else. Just you.” Your words are slurred as he groans out a good girl in approval and decides that he wants your shirt off. He skillfully manages to slip your navy blue long-sleeve off and unhooks your bra in one motion, freeing your tits to the cold air of the room, forcing the buds into sensitive peaks which Bucky is quick to take advantage of. His hands squeeze and pull at your tits, tugging and pinching cruelly at your nipples making you whine. 

Your bodies are pressed so close to one another, each pull of his hips making his pelvis rub against your aching clit, stray tears streaming down your face and your chest heaving and pushed up against Bucky.

If anyone were to walk in right now the picture would be nothing short of debauched. You completely bare on the table, Bucky completely clothed. Getting absolutely plowed if the screech of the metal against the floor was anything to go by. Your moans get higher in pitch and volume making Bucky grunt, another swat to your cheek making your brain foggy. “Shut the fuck up slut. You want everyone to see you getting fucked like the bitch in heat you are?” But if your moans and increasing wetness are anything to go by, yes, a deep and dark part of you does want that. Bucky laughs at you, shaking his head in faux disbelief and you wrap your lips around his dog tags, enjoying the soothing sensation brought by the cool metal. Bucky looks down at your lips wrapped around the dog tags he never seemed to take off and he let out a wrecked sound. You clench around him at the sound making his rhythm falter.

Before you can even process the loss of his proximity, your back is flat against the table and his dog tags are now around your neck, landing on your chest and glimmering in the dull fluorescent lighting of the room. Bucky slams himself back inside of you, the unmistakable squelch of your wetness filling up the room alongside both of your noises of pleasure. Your high-pitched and pornographic mewls and his low grunts and deep groans. You cry out his name as your head lulls to the side, eyes shutting in bliss as your fingers move to give your aching clit some attention. But Bucky lets out a disappointed grunt, grabbing your jaw in his hand and forcing you to maintain eye contact. “Look away from me again and I won’t let you cum for a fucking week stupid baby.” Bucky threatens. “You better fucking pay attention to who’s fucking you dumb. No need to close your eyes and imagine when you’ve got the real thing right here.”

Each of his words ignites a newfound purpose in Bucky as he pounds into you impossibly harder, his hand swatting against your cheek again and wrapping around your neck, keeping you in place to take all of his thrusts. He knows you always struggle to keep your eyes open and you don’t doubt that he will follow through on his threat. He has always enjoyed testing your weakness and pushing your limits. 

“Feels s’good. You’re so big Jamie. S’big, so good s’too good.” Your words are breathy and frail, your fingers rubbing quick circles around your aching button. A mean laugh rumbles in his chest as he watches the way his dog tags move with your tits, the sight is intoxicating and fuels Bucky to continue his torment. “There she is my dumb little baby. Couldn’t help yourself huh? Can’t help the way your brain goes quiet when I have my dick inside you.” His words should be humiliating but they only spur you on, your fingers on the verge of cramping but the jolts of pleasure are so overwhelming you can’t stop. “Jus’ need you. Need you to make it better. ‘M yours Daddy, only yours.” 

“That’s it baby, I know, I know it feels so good huh. Daddy’s here baby, Daddy’s gonna take care of his needy baby.” Bucky’s head falls back on a moan when you clench around him, your walls pulsing and a ring of cream forming around the base of his cock. Your orgasm was surely just a few moments away and Bucky’s lips curled up in a smirk.

He folds your legs at the knee, sliding you closer to him with the pressure he has on your throat, the angle making him rub against your sweet spot with each deliriously pleasurable thrust. You squeal out his name, getting even louder than before and he shoves his dog tags into your mouth, muffling your garble out unintelligeble pleads to cum. With one hand Bucky squeezes your throat, and with the other he pinches at your nipples, tugging the sensitive flesh before trailing his hand down your body and slapping your hand away from your clit, he moves his lips down to your ears, licking up your earlobe before whispering his command, “Cum. Cum right fucking now or you don’t get to cum at all.” His fingers pinch your clit and the sudden burst of pain has you tensing your legs up, squealing out nonsense around the dog tags in your mouth and reaching your peak. Your body shakes against the table as Bucky pounds you through your high, his words of encouragement falling on deaf ears as you teeter between consciousness and unconsciouness. His body overwhelming your mind and soul. 

His fingers release your throat and you look up at him with watery eyes, bringing him down to rest your foreheads against each other as he nears his own high. Your lips are pressing against each other, “There isn’t a single person in the world I wouldn’t kill for you. I would do anything for you. You are everything to me.” Bucky murmurs in a pussy-drunk stupor. But the words are true, he has said them to you before and will say them a thousand times again. You taught him how to live again, not just survive. 

A broken cry falls from your lips from sensitivity and Bucky’s impassioned thrusts turn sloppy as he moans out your name, pulling you impossibly closer as he fills you with his cum. At the feeling of being completely stuffed by him, your second release is triggered and you shake in his hold as he comes down from his high. He presses lazy kisses against your lips and rubs his hands soothingly up and down your body, easing you out of your submissive state. He gently pulls himself out, using the handkerchief he carries around to wipe your thighs clean, but letting his cum keep your pussy messy. He quickly wipes himself off and helps you dress yourself. 

A few more giggly kisses and you’re pretty much ready to go back down to the gym. Just in time to catch the final thing on today’s agenda: sparring. Bucky walks one step behind you, his hand back again on your lower back protectively as a path is cleared to the front of the ring where your friends are supervising Marcus and another recruit preparing for the second round of their match. Natasha and Wanda offer you knowing smirks and you roll your eyes with heat creeping up cheeks as you shyly glance up at Bucky through your eyelashes to find him already looking at you with a stupid smile. He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek and watches with intent as Steve and Sam coach their respective agents. 

“Looking strong, Marcus!” Bucky calls out and you swat his chest making him laugh. Marcus takes one look at you, Bucky’s dog tags now around your neck and falling on your shirt, teeth imprints on your neck, and swollen lips. Poor Marcus falters, and the other recruit takes advantage of his distraction and easily tackles him to the ground, winning the second round. Bucky takes a single step closer to the ring where Sam is helping Marcus up, and the smirk on your arrogant boyfriend’s face is adorable. “Better luck next time buddy,” he says supportively. Sam flicks Bucky in the forehead, unable to hide the smile on his face, “Dumbass.”

[ms-demeanor]

Due to some stuff brought up in recent posts I believe it is time to once again extol the virtues of Ms-Demeanor's Patented Where Did I Put That Fucking Paper Organizational Binder.

Hello! I am a disorganized adult! This is the system by which I manage my important shit like pink slips for my car and medical records and tax information.

You're going to need:

A 3-Ring Binder

Transparent Sheet Protectors

Notebook dividers (optional but VERY useful)

A backpack (optional)

So the way this system works is you put the sheet protectors into the binder. You can either use the dividers to divide the binder into sections or you can label some of the sheet protectors to make different sections but what you are generally going to do is make sections of the binder labeled things like "taxes" or "vet" or "doctor" and put a few sheet protectors in each section.

Then all of your papers with important information get crammed in that folder. You don't organize them, you don't sort them by date, you don't alphabetize. You put things vaguely relating to taxes into the sheet protectors in the taxes section. You put things relating to cars in the cars section. You don't even attempt to make this readable - you're not using sheet protectors so that you can read each page and keep it legible, you're using sheet protectors because it's a cheap plastic bag that will sit nicely in a binder.

You CAN put stuff into the individual sheet protectors when you get it, but let's be realistic you probably WON'T do that, so just tuck individual papers into the front of the binder until you get to a critical mass of paperwork then take an hour to sit down and sort into categories and put it in the binder once every six months to three years (depending on how frequently you get paperwork). Sometimes these sections will outgrow their original allotted space - since my spouse had a transplant surgery the medical section has had to become its own folder - and that's okay. If you end up with multiple folders just keep them together (this is why the backpack is an option, and one I strongly recommend).

Because yeah, if my organization system relies on opening up a drawer and putting something where it belongs as soon as I get the paper, I will simply not be organized. It's not going to happen. But I can handle a messy stack of paper that sits in one place and grows until it is time to shove it into a binder. I can't organize things for thirty seconds a day every day but I can organize things for an hour once every year or so (maybe two hours every five years when I sort out stuff I don't need like copies of warranties for parts on a car I don't own anymore).

When my mom died she had about fifty pounds of paper files in her office that were neatly organized in a system that didn't make any sense to my dad, my sister, and I. I ended up sorting through those files for twenty hours, tossing out copies of paid invoices from ten years ago and student handbooks from my junior high school. I reduced one filing cabinet, two desk file drawers, and a foot-high stack to a six inch binder that I gave to my dad. My mom died five years ago; two months ago my dad asked me about a medical document and I was able to tell him to go look for it in the medical section of the binder. It was there, because ALL IMPORTANT SHIT GOES IN THE BINDER.

Where is my birth certificate? In the binder. Where is my tax return from 2017? In the binder. Where is the record of my dog's last rabies shot? In the binder. Where are the records for my life insurance? In the binder.

A lot of what people consider "being organized" breaks down to whether or not you can find the specific things that you're looking for. Does my binder look nice? Is it aesthetic? Does it have color-coded tabs and papers all laid out neatly? Absolutely fucking not. But if you ask me where to find a paper I know that I can do so within about five minutes of shuffling through the pile of letter-folded sheets that I pulled out of the appropriate section of the binder.

I've discussed the Where Did I Put that Fucking Paper Binder before, but now it is time to expand that concept to the Backpack of Important Shit.

You likely have Important Shit that does not fit in a binder. Some of my Important Shit that does not fit in a binder is stuff like jewelry and the spare key for my car. Other stuff - the reason I decided to bring this up at all - includes my backup hard drive and packaging (including product key codes) for pretty much all of the software that I own. This is also where I store printed out copies of the recovery codes for most of the online accounts that I have.

There's a lot of weird fiddly shit that we have to have that we might not access all that often. This is the kind of stuff that might end up in junk drawers or under sinks or in disused laptop bags or kicking around under a bunch of papers in a desk drawer.

It doesn't matter so much when that weird fiddly shit is a set of hex keys or a utility knife or a protractor or a copy of a student handbook but it DOES matter when it's something that you might need to put your hands on in a hurry. If your computer crashes, you're not going to want to track down the software in the back of a filing cabinet and the backup drive from somewhere in the bowels of your desk. If you lock your keys in your car you are not going to want to figure out if your spare is in a junk drawer or the old purse where you keep semi-important stuff or the tin on your desk that has buttons and pins and headphone covers. Just put it in the Backpack of Important Shit and when you need it you know where to look.

So anyway, if you are a person who is a minor disaster who has trouble finding important things when you need them please don't think that you have to get your life together and have a nice organized filing cabinet or clear plastic bins full of documents or a neatly divided storage closet where everything from board games to backup drives has its own neatly labeled place. Just assign ONE LOCATION for important shit and start putting the important shit there. It doesn't matter if you have a filing cabinet where you keep old copies of homework and printouts of online orders and family history records - you do not need to keep everything that is file-able in one place and depending on what level of catastrophe you are it might be detrimental to you if you try to do that. It doesn't matter if you have a jewelry box where you keep your collection of gauges and wrist cuffs; if you are going to stress out about where grandma's ring is when you're digging through your collection of cheap earrings and silver pendants then *do not keep grandma's ring or any other Important, Vital, Cannot Be Lost jewelry in with your day-to-day wear*.

I live someplace that has fires. My binder got upgraded to my Backpack of Important Shit when the fires were getting uncomfortably close to the house I was living in and I wanted to have one bag to grab if we had to get out fast. Once I did that, I never took the binder out of the backpack and the backpack has now made three moves with me and has meant that I've had my birth certificate handy when I needed it in the middle of a move between two states, I was able to provide a history of my cholesterol panel going back six years to a visiting nurse, and I was able to give the exact names and contact info of my spouse's previous surgeon to the hospital when I had unexpectedly moved to a new state with three bags and my work computer at the beginning of the pandemic.

Get yourself a backpack of important shit and a folder of where the fuck did i put that paper. It is so much easier to search a backpack for important shit than to go through an entire house and it is so much easier to flip through a binder than it is to dig through a filing cabinet.

Anyway good luck and happy adulting.

[pirateprincessblog]

player 9

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: finally reuniting with your family after years of working abroad, your six year old nephew doesn't leave your side. he wants you to take him to school, he wants to do his homework with you, he wants to sit on your lap during meals, and he wants you to watch his football practice. how convenient that you're almost always alone on that stadium, and that his coach is just the most gorgeous man you've ever seen in your life. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jeong yunho x reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: footballplayer!yunho, coach!yunho, whippedforhernephew'scoach!reader 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: gagging, semi-public sex, oral (m!receiving), creampie, unprotected sex

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: is it soccer or football? football or rugby? either way, i'd let yunho demolish me in the locker room (or in the middle of the football field). :)

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

"it's called soccer, dumbass."

"no, it's called football, dumbass."

"you don't know what you're talking about." your brother rolls his eyes, then stuffs his mouth with the hotdog you had made for game night.

"there's a ball, and you kick it with your foot. what part of that seems to be the issue?"

"football is an entirely different sport-"

"oh give me a break-"

"god, it's like you both are sixteen again. is that just a natural thing? no matter how old you get you'll bicker like this all your life?" your mother complains, sipping her cucumber water and judging the calories on the table with a single eyebrow raise.

your brother's son, your nephew, laughs in your lap. you laugh with him, seeing the ketchup mess on his face and his sticky little fingers.

"and what are you laughing at, you little rascal? come here!"

the young man grabs the child from your lap, tickling the life out of him as a punishment for mocking his father. he playfully reaches towards you for help, and you do, tickling your own brother to make him stop.

"oh god, my white couch!"

"stop that, our daughter came back after many years apart and you care about the couch?" your father scolds his wife.

"it's not like that-"

"hush! is it 2:1? is it?! yes it is!" he jumps, spilling the beer all over the just mentioned couch.

"oh, heavens." her voice is light, and she looks like she is about to faint.

the four of you snicker, and silently cheer with another hot dog.

you forgot just how boring your town is. you do nothing but lay in your bed watching tv shows, walk to the local bakery, and drive your nephew to school. he is almost glued to you twenty four hours a day, and you don't mind. he is the squishiest thing ever, always listens to you, and helps you piss off your brother.

he doesn't have much of a mother figure in his life. your brother works a lot, and your parents are raising him. his mother died during birth, and even though they begged to save her and not the child, it was too late. your brother didn't want the baby at first. pushed it away, yelled at it, saying it took away his wife and his will to live. then, he started therapy. he started getting better, and started spending time with his child. your nephew has all the love he could possibly get, but your arrival changed him. he has become very attached to you; sneaking out of his room in the middle of the night just to sleep in your bed, making his kindergarten teacher call you mid playing just to tell you that he built a rocket out of clay, to only eating when he sits on your lap and you feed him.

much like this morning.

"auntie?" he mumbles between the waffle bites.

"yes, pumpkin?"

"will you watch me play soccer today?"

"it's football!" your brother calls from the living room. "you broke my kid."

"i didn't break him, i just passed him some of my IQ."

the man sticks his tongue out towards you, making his son giggle.

"don't you want grandpa to take you?" your father makes a disappointed face, teasing his grandchild.

"i want auntie to take me! and then you can meet my coach! and then you can see how cool our new jerseys are! we are only allowed to wear them at the stadium and not take them home because they are new. i really wanted to show it to you but coach wouldn't let me. he says i'd make it rip it as soon as i enter the house!"

"oh, how dare he!" you say, noticing your father's wink as a sign to support him.

"and sometimes he yells at me! but grandpa told me that he just means well, and that he only wants to teach me so i can be a great player like him! did you know that he is going to play the- the- oh no, what's it called again, grandpa?"

"the derby?"

"yes! that! he is going to play in a few weeks! he is so cool!"

he may not be able to feed himself, but instead of that, he can talk. all day long. and just sometimes, your ears become irritated. so you agree to drive him. you blast the music, muting his babbling from the back as he sits in his car seat. can anyone blame you? it's a two hour drive. you don't have the energy for it today.

you finally arrive, and after making sure you've locked your car and rolled the windows up, you finally let him lead you inside. you can barely keep up with him, he is too excited to see his friends. you see other women standing near the group of children, and you let go of your nephew's hand so you can greet them. after all, you'll be coming here quite often it seems.

"hi, just wanted to introduce myself."

"oh, the new stepmom?"

"what? no- i- what?" you're just as confused as them, and you look over to your nephew.

"oh, i'm so sorry! he keeps talking about his new mom and we just thought-"

his new mom? your confusion disappears when you see the little boy pointing his finger towards you, excitedly showing you off to his friends.

"no, no. i'm his aunt." you inform them.

before they get to say anything, the doors on the side of the stadium open, revealing a tall male wearing a jersey. you hear whispering behind you, maybe even a particularly long exhale, and you have to say that you agree with them.

the coach is stunning. he is drop dead gorgeous, and the more you look, the more self conscious you feel about your lazily picked outfit today. he is so tall and lean, his waist probably smaller than yours. his lips are plump and a pretty pink colour, and his hair a dirty blonde, almost a mullet. no wonder all the moms were dipped in makeup and dresses. you wore your brother's hoodie with his favorite football team logo on it, short leggings and zero makeup.

"hi, ladies." he greets, smiling at the group. he surely knows his impact.

his gaze stops on you, catching you red handed. you must've been staring at him weirdly, because he smiles wider your way, then finally lets the kids inside to change and get ready for the practice. all except...

"coach jeong! can my mom please come and watch me?"

"mom?" the coach is caught off guard, glancing your way.

"oh, no no, honey-" you try explaining. that man needs to know you're single.

"please?" the boy puts his palms together, and does his best puppy eyes to convince the man in front of him to let you in.

"well i- i guess. come in then." he holds the door open for you.

other women do not seem to take interest in going in and watching their children. instead, they greet the coach, then head over to the nearby café. your nephew tugs at your hand, smile so wide his eyes turn into half moons and he doesn't even see you.

"you little rascal." you scold him, ruffling his hair.

he runs off to the locker room, and you watch him drag the backpack that is almost bigger than him across the floor.

"well, this is an odd surprise. i didn't know he had a mother. not to be rude, of course."

"oh, i am not. i am his aunt." you finally explain.

"ah, so that's the case. i was wondering. you look so young."

he smells of freshly cut grass and a hint of manly sweat, mixed with some type of cologne. his face is clean shaven, giving you a chance to notice his sharp jawline as you walk together towards the football field.

"he is a gem, really. but, god, can he talk."

"i know. he got that one from me." you joke, knowing your nephew has outbursts of energy often.

yunho laughs, then opens another door for you. you finally step into the green field, nostrils immediately filling up with the pleasant smell of freshly mowed grass. you were never one for sports, but you gladly watched a game or two with your friends and now family. you wouldn't do it willingly on your own, you have more interesting things to do. but you don't hate it.

you also don't hate it when yunho places his hand on your lower back, guiding you towards the chairs where you've seen coaches and other member's of the team sit during matches. you thank heavens for the early winter sun and long sleeves, otherwise he would've seen the goosebumps from an innocent touch like that.

"have a seat. if they kick a ball in your direction, i'm sorry on their behalf."

"real comforting for my first live match, thanks."

the children run out on the field after changing, taking their positions on a white line in front of their coach. you study his moves, and needless to say, you find yourself squirming in the plastic chair quite soon. he is stern. he gives orders, guides them, and cares for them. you are turned on by something as simple as his yelling over the field. you never knew you could be so turned on by someone doing their job.

he starts the warmup, doing the squats and pushups with them. his arms aren't that big, but they are still muscular and decorated with bulging veins.

"coach, remember when you made us do pushups with your backpack on our back?" one of the older kids says.

"yeah, so? want another session?"

"no, no! i was just wondering if you could do the same." the rest of them start smirking, especially your nephew, and yunho scoffs.

"of course i can."

"but not with the backpack! with her on your back!" he points his little finger towards you, and you scoff.

"i don't think that's approp-"

"he can't do it," you accidentally interrupt, trying to save him.

he looks at you, one eyebrow cocked. you swear you could slip off the chair from the sudden rush of arousal.

"oh, really?" he asks, a smirk dancing on his lips.

"really." you decide to tease back, to see just how far it gets you.

"well why don't we try?"

he gets into the position, not even allowing you to decline. the team starts cheering, your nephew the loudest of them all.

"come on, now. sit on me."

you choke on your saliva. he smirks to himself, and you are ready to wipe it off. he likes teasing, doesn't he. little narcissist.

you walk over to him, purposely sitting on his back with force. but he holds, his wide back a comfortable seat. his arms start working his body. and your jaw drops at how easily he is doing the push ups with you on his back. the cheers get louder, seeing their coach effortlessly carry a person like that. he does a few more, just to show off, until you get off of him. your nephew runs over, hugging your leg and cheering for the handsome coach. yunho winks at you, then proceeds to train the boys.

your stops to the stadium become your new hobby. you sit on the same chair, watching the man teach the young ones, occasionally catching a glance or two from him, then arriving home and falling asleep mid day to the thoughts of his arms and voice. some days you fall asleep from simple thoughts, and some days you need a locked door and a buzzing device.

with each practice, he finds a way to somehow touch you. last time, he asked you to help him set up a new net on the goal frame. he couldn't "reach it", so he held you by your waist in the air while you secured it. if he can carry you around so easily, could he also carry you as he thrusts into you back in his office? or in the back of the-?

"guests! get up!" your mother knocks on the door, and you are quick to throw your gadget under your pillow, stopping the fantasies in your brain.

poor thing has been working non stop for the past few weeks, and still doesn't do a good enough job. sure, it gets you over the edge, but seeing yunho's slender fingers spin that ball so effortlessly when he is busy watching the kids play is just making it more complicated. not sure if on purpose, but lots of times he toys with the little hole on the ball that is there for inflating it. he circles it, slowly and carefully, eyes not leaving the green field. your eyes are locked on the ball and the middle finger rotating on the ball, mouth going dry as you almost feel that same finger circling your own hole.

"see? told you he's a gem." he interrupts your drooling one day.

"huh? oh, yes. absolutely." you catch a glimpse of your nephew celebrating victory.

you miss the way yunho bites his lip, hiding another smirk forming. he knows he has you wrapped around his finger, and he can almost smell the arousal off you. at first, he enjoyed teasing you for fun. but now? seeing that you've started showing up in short knitted winter dresses and knee high boots? it gets him going too. especially when you put those sunglasses on when you get in the car and help your nephew in his car seat, looking like a really hot young mom.

a mom he'd like to fuck all day every day in the back of the car after she drops her kids off at school.

"guests? who the hell is it?" you ask more yourself than your mother.

you throw on a sweater and the first pair of jeans you find, then check if you've put the vibrator away just in case a certain child decides to come in the room and snoop. it is securely locked in your drawer, along with a local newspaper cutout with yunho's figure on it, the jersey proudly stating his last name and his player number: nine. he looks dashing, so why not? you're not doing anything weird with it. just masturbating to it. no biggie. everyone does that.

it is a random wednesday and middle of the day. nobody familiar is coming to your mind when it comes to guests. but when you go downstairs and join your mother in the kitchen, you freeze. the big glass door to the patio is open, revealing the very coach you were just touching yourself to sitting on your favorite chair near the pool. your father hands him over a beer, like they do this every day.

"what is the coach doing here?"

"your brother invited him to wish him luck for the game next week." the woman simply explains, lining up the various cheese bites on toothpicks on the oval plate. "here, take this to your father while i grab a few more beers for them. for an athlete, you'd think he drinks less."

"mom!" you scold, in case he might have super hearing.

you carry the plate in one hand, while you use the other one to fix your hair. yunho is quick to notice you coming towards them, a smile forming on his lips as he examines you head to toe. you look cute in maroon and black, that oversized sweater hiding your waist from him. ever since he lifted you in the air that day to fix the net, he has been dreaming about holding that waist again. he wants to bite into it, leave purple marks all over it, kiss it and whatnot. you are just that addictive, and you didn't do anything but exist.

"hi, coach."

something about you calling him coach is setting his body on fire. it has the same effect on him as the word "daddy" or "sir" would have on someone else. he decides he enjoys hearing it from your lips. he hopes he'll get to hear it in a shape of a moan or gasp too.

"hi, my lovely assistant. did you know that your sister actually knows a thing or two about football?"

"soccer. and no, this dumbass right here?"

all three of you roll your eyes at his correction. yunho snickers, taking a sip of his beer.

"yes. she helps me set up the training ground and comes up with very interesting and actually beneficial stuff. the other day she even managed to score against our thirteen year old goalkeeper!"

you squint your eyes at the man, holding grudge for mocking you. he is half right, you did set up the training grounds for the kids. and you did score against the thirteen year old goalkeeper. go you!

"cheese?" you offer, stopping their little bullying session.

"why, thank you." he takes one, then continues his conversation about the upcoming game.

you run back to the kitchen, helping your mother with more drinks. you hear your nephew somewhere, and his quick and heavy footsteps.

"careful, i'm holding liquid!" you warn before he can bump into you.

you make your way towards the patio again, ready to secretly start flirting with his coach. you don't know how. you'll figure it out. only this time, he doesn't notice you coming, and stands up while still talking to your family. he doesn't hear you warn him over your nephew's loud and bad cover of the teenage mutant ninja turtles theme song, and walks straight into you, spilling the beverages all over his white t-shirt and your maroon sweater. you almost slip on the wet tiles, but his hands are quick to grab your waist and steady you. your body is pushed against his, soft breasts pressed against his own firm chest, your heart almost breaking through your ribcage and hitting his.

"shit, i'm so sorry." he finally lets go, then bends over to pick up the half empty cans of beer.

"oh, just leave it! i'll clean it up!" your voice is squeaky, hands still trembling from the interaction you just had.

his grasp is so firm, you want him to pick you up again just so you can feel that rush of lust one more time. the way his slender fingers pick up the pieces of glass from the floor shoots arrows to your core. a task so simple that it has you wondering if your brain is healthy for getting turned on by it.

"sweetie, will you go get coach yunho a new t-shirt so he can change? yunho, go with her, she will clean that up for you." your father offers, completely oblivious of your death glares.

the young man gladly accepts. he follows you quietly through the house, not yet speaking. you unlock your room, then let him in.

"ah, so this is what this door is? your nerdy little room. always wonder every time i come over."

you rummage through the pile of unironed clothes on the ironing desk in the corner of your room, trying to tell the difference from your brother's and father's plain white t-shirts.

"so you come here often?"

"not that often," he walks over to your nightstand, looking through the window above it, "they sometimes invite me for dinner or lunch as a thank you for training their grandson. say, why do you keep your room locked?"

you plug the iron into the socket, then wait for it to warm up as you turn to face him. his fingers are tracing the corner of the nightstand, somehow seductively.

"to keep my nephew from snooping." you laugh nervously, seeing how close his hand is to the forbidden drawer.

"right," he hums, nodding his head.

the iron makes a sound, notifying you that it is ready for use. you turn your back towards him, ironing the creases in the soft fabric. you hear him walk around the room, probably admiring your poor taste of room decorating when you were seventeen. you didn't manage to redecorate much, only bring in some things from your old home. like the very toy that is buzzing in his hand right now.

"interesting."

"god, give me that." your cheeks are flaming hot.

you hid today's pink pleasure, but forgot about the yesterday's one, also from an interrupted session. he holds the silver bullet vibrator in his hand, playing with the settings on it.

"give it back! it's dirty, how can you even touch it?"

"oh, so it's recently been to places? i don't know, looks pretty clean to me."

you reach for the shiny item, but he is quick to throw it in his other hand. he smiles, amused by your poor attempts at getting the gadget back.

"we can do this all day, or..." he points it towards you, like a magic wand, "you can show me the proper use of it."

your heart drops, and your stomach feels like a centipede is walking all over it. your mouth goes dry, and your eyes feel like they're going to jump out of the sockets.

"what?" you manage to say.

"show me how you use it." he simply says.

"you're crazy. here's your t-shirt." you grab it from the desk, avoiding eye contact with him.

you hear his wet one drop on the floor, and he reaches for the one in your hand. instead of grabbing the clothing item, he grabs your wrist, pulling your body into his bare one. you gasp, eyes looking up into his as his other hand snakes around your waist, vibrator still secure between his fingers.

"those jeans are driving me crazy." he admits in a whisper. "and looking at that bed, i can't stop imagining you using this on your dripping little cunt after coming back from my practice."

you hate that he is right, but you won't tell him that. ever.

"i have more attractive things to masturbate about." you whisper too, eyes dropping down on his pink lips.

"like what?"

"like that substitute coach from monday morning?"

"ah, so your little hole only clenches for song mingi? got it."

he lets go of you, throwing the vibrator on the bed. you gulp as you watch him wear the freshly ironed warm t-shirt, eyes running down to his v-line and defined abs. he is so damn hot.

"i should get back there. wouldn't want anyone to know how desperate you are for me." he winks.

"i'm not desperate!" you reach for a pillow, ready to aim it at that smirking face.

the next few days, you ask your father to take the boy to the practice. he is sad, but if you look at yunho one more time after a good training session, after his jersey starts sticking to his skin and reveals all his curves and hollows, after his sun kissed skin starts shining from sweat, and after his veins start bulging even more, you might drop on your knees at his feet and just take him in your mouth right there in the middle of the field. with nobody around, of course.

the derby is getting closer and closer, and you go to the practice one more time before it accompanying your father. you sit quietly as you watch him fidget in his usual spot. he doesn't yell today. he doesn't instruct. he doesn't do a warmup. he lets the kids play whatever they want, just shushing them when they start cussing and punishing them with burpees. he is nervous about the game, that you know.

"hey," you call after practice.

your father is busy helping his grandson change his footwear, while you busy yourself with comforting the coach.

"it'll be good. you'll win, i know it."

"our goalkeeper is kinda shit. he has been alcoholizing himself the past few days, too nervous about the derby. i'm afraid he is going to get some kind of poisoning, or that he'll show up drunk. or hung over. i don't care about the win at that point, our image will be destroyed."

you hum, looking over at the dark clouds approaching in the distance.

"get some sleep tonight. if you want, call me. i am known to put people to sleep with my talking."

he laughs, sincerely. nothing flirty this time. "will do, darling."

"i'll see you tomorrow then, coach. hopefully with a trophy in your hand."

the game went fabulously. they destroyed the other team, despite the goal keeper being a little hung over just how yunho predicted. they all cheer, your nephew is going crazy in the front row, and so are you. shiny confetti is flying everywhere, some of it landing on yunho's head. he is holding the trophy above his head, pure happiness on his face. he is cute.

the celebration continues in the decorated basketball hall, drinks and food already served and music already blasting. the audience is slowly leaving to join the team in proper celebration, and it takes almost half an hour for the place to properly empty before you can move. a few families stay behind, cleaning after everyone and collecting lost items to hand them over to the doorkeeper later. you and your mother stay to help, collecting all the confetti and food remains.

"miss! miss!"

you turn around, almost bumping into a woman. she holds a backpack in her hand, and hands it over to you.

"would you be a sugar and go give this to player nine in the locker room? their coach had to go and didn't have time to give this to him."

"but-"

"thank you so much! i've gotta run."

and indeed, she does run. your mother nudges you with her elbow, rushing you towards the stairs and to the entrance under the bleachers.

you do not know where you are going. the hallway is empty, and there are no signs on any doors. you almost reach the end, hopelessly dragging the heavy backpack with you. a door to a locker room is half opened, and you decide to knock. receiving no response, you carefully enter, the strong smell of body spray pinching your nose.

"coach?" you call.

he doesn't answer. you set the backpack on one of the benches, then make your way towards the other side of the room. a jersey is discarded on it, the number nine proudly facing up from the bench. you reach for it, feeling the fabric in your hand. he smells so good. not a strong scent, like the rest of them have. he is more of a soft vanilla mixed with slight sandalwood. you bury your nose in the fabric, surprised that even after sweating so much after the game, the jersey isn't smelly and wet.

two hands creep onto your waist, startling you and making you jump.

"i snooped through your things, so now you have to snoop through mine?" he teases.

you feel his naked wet chest press against your thin blouse, and a slight bulge in the back of your pants. he turns you around swiftly, allowing you to take a good look at him. he is fresh out of the shower, smelling absolutely heavenly. his hair is not yet dry, waterbeads sliding down his neck and collarbones and disappearing down his v-line into the towel he has so carefully wrapped around him. it hangs low on his hips, probably on purpose.

"aren't you going to congratulate me?"

"congratulations?"

"i was thinking about a different kind of congratulations. something like..." his finger pulls at the belt hoop of your pants, then lets it snap against your skin, "this."

"you have to play another match to get to that point," you tease.

"do i now?"

truth is, you wish for nothing more than to get down on your knees and have him twitch in your mouth. you so desperately need it. so you let your hand reach for his towel, easily undoing it and letting it fall on the floor. you don't look down just yet, eyes locked with his. yunho finally grabs your face by your jaw, pulling you in for a hot kiss. his tongue is quick to find yours, circling it and rubbing it all the right ways. your blouse doesn't get unbuttoned. ripping it open seems faster to yunho, firm hands shredding the fabric and letting buttons fly to the floor. you gasp at the action, and he is quick to place his hands on your breasts. you're thankful for wearing a decent bra today, not one of those you had as a teen.

"i'll have to see you wearing my jersey and bouncing on my cock one day after practice. think you could do that?"

"i think i very much could," you say, excitement running in your veins.

yunho sits on the bench, trying to pull you into his lap. you stop him, dropping down on your knees. a proper congratulations.

you take a moment to admire his length. he isn't thick, but he is very long. he feels hot under your fingers, eager to be taken cared of. your tongue gets a first taste of him, and soon after, you're struggling to take him in. he is too big for you, but the pleasure is too good for him to back away. he grabs your hair, pushing your head down to make you swallow as much of him as you can.

"yunho?"

you freeze around his cock, eyes going wide. you are hidden by a row of lockers, but only a few steps in and the whole situation would be visible to the poor intruder.

"keep going," yunho mumbles, caressing your cheek.

you slowly start swallowing him again, working your tongue around him.

"yes?" he says, masking his pleasure well.

"everyone is waiting for you, man. they already finished off that fruit tart you were waiting for!"

"let me just take a quick shower and i'll be right there."

"if you say so."

the door shuts, and yunho spares no time in ramming his cock into your mouth a few more times before pulling you off and picking you up. he slams you against the lockers, hands firm on your thighs. he manages to take off your pants, not bothering with the panties. he only pushes them aside, and not even bothering to stretch you out beforehand, carefully inserts his hot muscle inside of you. it is no use biting your hand down to hide the noises, his pace continiously ramming into the soft spot inside of you, making your eyes roll back.

"you'll have to be a bit more quiet, baby." he says, voice low and raspy.

you look at him, your body completely relaxed in his hands as you take every pump he has to offer. yunho looks at you as if he is trying to hypnotize you, with eyes so focused on your face, examining every single reaction you have to his moves.

"we wouldn't want anyone to interrupt again, would we?"

you shake your head, unable to speak. you can only moan, louder and louder, as your fingers desperately tug on his still damp hair. having had enough of your loud noises, yunho carries you to the bench, cock still buried deep inside of you. he lays you on the bench, then reaches over your head to grab something.

"open up for me," he instructs.

you do, and he gently places his jersey between your lips so it muffles your moans.

"good girl," he praises, then continues his moves.

the fabric in your mouth proves itself useful, successfully muffling the noises you make. not long after, you feel the pleasure building up in the bottom of your stomach.

"fuck, you're clenching so much, i'm going to cum soon," he hisses, hands desperately gripping your waist.

you look at him with pleading eyes, hoping he would take the message and make you cum too. he recognizes it, and brings his hand to his mouth, wetting his fingers. he then places them on your clit, rubbing the tense bud in ways that have your back arching from the bench, mentally begging him for release already.

"fuck-" he groans, speeding up.

you bite down on the fabric, focusing on reaching the sweet release, clenching your walls to help him reach his too. he moans, for the first time, throwing his head back as he fucks his seed into you, filling you up until you can't take it anymore and let it spill on the bench. the new warm sensation inside of you triggers your own orgasm, your hands reaching for his as you twitch, orgasm washing over your body in multiple ways.

yunho holds your hands above your head, pressing kisses along your exposed collarbones and neck, calming you as you get down from the high. it takes you a while to come back to your senses, feeling yunho's hair tickling your bare skin as he still peppers your skin with kisses.

he laughs fondly, seeing what a mess he made out of you. removing the jersey from your mouth, he wastes no time in kissing you properly, this time a bit softer than before.

you pull away, the cold air from the air conditioner finally hitting your bare skin and sweat, making you shiver.

"so..." you breathe out.

"so..." he repeats.

"when is your next match again?"

feedback greatly appreciated! 💕

[adrienneleclerc]

Surprise

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Oscar surprises his girlfriend with a puppy after hearing some bad news

Warning: Spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: this is my first Oscar Piastri fanfic

Y/N moved to England from New York when she got accepted into Oxford. In one of her Oxford days, she met Oscar Piastri at a club in London, they have been dating ever since. Currently, Y/N has a paid internship with Stella McCartney but has weekends off to join Oscar if it’s close/reasonable. Y/N got home to their shared apartment and was putting her bag away when she got a phone call from her mom. She answered it.

“Hola mami, cómo estás?” Y/N asked. Hi mom, how are you

“No ando bien, princesa.” Her mom answered. I’m not doing well, princess

“Mami, que tienes, has estado llorando?” Y/N asked. What’s wrong, have you been crying?

“Ay mija, no sé cómo contarte pero Daisy murió.” Her mom said and Y/N covered her mouth to stop the sobs from coming out. She had tears on her eyes and she sat down on the couch. Oh honey, I don’t know how to tell you this but Daisy died

“No no no, no puede ser, les visité hace dos meses, Daisy estaba bien, estaba muy cariñosa conmigo, no puede estar muerta.” Y/N said. That can’t be, I visited you guys 2 months ago, Daisy was fine, she was very cuddly with me, she can’t be dead

“Lo siento, amor, pero Daisy ya estaba viejita, ha estado contigo desde que tenías 8 años.” Her mom said. I’m sorry, love, but sissy was old, she’s been with you since you were 8 years old

“Bueno, y cómo está papi?” Y/N asked. Alright then, how’s dad?

“Igual que yo. Luego te hablo, amor, me tengo que ir a dormir, bye.” Her mom said hanging up the phone and that’s when Y/N let herself sob into one of the couch pillows. She didn’t even noticed Oscar coming in. Just like me. I’ll talk to you soon, love, I have to go to sleep

“Hey, darling, I brought back your favorite takeout.” Oscar said leaving the bag of food on the kitchen counter but he noticed Y/N was crying. “Hey, feeling, what happened?” Oscar said sitting next to Y/N on the couch. Y/N picked her head up and wiped her years before looking at Oscar.

“My childhood dog died.” Y/N said, her voice raw from crying.

“Daisy? It was a yorkie, right?” Oscar asked, remembering visiting her parents during his winter break and the photos she has shown him.

“Yes, she was so cute, I loved her so much, she would follow me everywhere and she was the best part when I would visit my parents back home.” Y/N said, she started tearing up again so Oscar hugged her, rubbing her back

“Let it out, sweetheart, you’ll be okay, I know you will.” Oscar said.

The past few days, Y/N has been kind of out of it. Yes, she would go to work and do really well but it was like she was on autopilot. She would make food for her and Oscar, eat, then rot in bed until she had to do something. Oscar couldn’t stand seeing her like this, especially know he has a triple header, meaning he’ll be leaving her alone for 3 weeks.

“Darling, are you sure you can’t use your vacation days to come with me?” Oscar asked. “How about I pay for your tickets to come Saturday and Sunday?”

“Oscar, that’s too much money, I’ll probably only go to the Silverstone track since it’s easier.” Y/N said. “I’ll be fine, I promise”

“I want you, no, I NEED you to call me everyday, before you go to work, when you come home, before you go to sleep, and any time in between.” Oscar said.

“You’re insane, but I love you so much, tiburóncin.” Y/N said, kissing him.

“I love you too.” Oscar said, kissing her back

Oscar was on the plane with Lando and he knew something was wrong.

“What happened, mate?” Lando asked

“Nothing, just Y/N.” Oscar answered

“Ah, trouble in paradise?” Lando asked

“No, her dog died.” Oscar said

“Aw, poor Y/N. Wait, you had a dog this whole time and I never saw it?” Lando asked

“No, you muppet, her childhood dog died.” Oscar said.

“Oh…so how’s Y/N taking it?” Lando asked

“Not well. She just works, eats, and sleeps, as soon as she comes home from work, she makes food and goes lay down, she doesn’t eat until later. I’m worried about her.” Oscar said.

“But it’s only been a few days, I’m sure she’ll get better.” Lando said.

“What if I got her another dog?” Oscar asked

“Aw, you’re such a romantic, Osc.” Lando teased.

“Shut up.” Oscar said.

“Well do you know what kind of dog she likes?” Lando asked

“Well Daisy was a yorkie, I know she likes them, but there’s another breed of dog she likes. What breed is Lady from Lady and the Tramp?” Oscar asked.

“It’s a cavalier King Charles spaniel.” Lando answered and Oscar stared at him. “What? I know my dog breeds.”

“I’ll start looking for places when we land.” Oscar said.

While they were in Spain, Oscar was calling pet stores and breeders he found online from Spain, Austria, and England but there was no luck.

“You found your girlfriend’s dream dog yet?” Lando asked, unpacking his luggage.

“No, all the stores I found online don’t have that breed of dog, they don’t even have yorkies, aren’t they supposed to be a popular breed?” Oscar asked

“Exactly, it’s a popular breed, they get bought quickly.” Lando said.

“Ugh, it’s no use, and no one I know has spaniel puppies.” Oscar said, sighing. Suddenly he remembered his neighbor mentioning something about her dog giving birth so he called her.

“Hello, Areida, how is your dog?” Oscar asked.

“Hey Oscar, Polly is fine, I’m just having trouble rehoming her puppies.” Areida said.

“I was actually wondering if I could have one, they’re the King Charles dog, right?” Oscar asked.

“Yes, they are, and I would gladly, give you one, come over when you’re back in Woking so you could pick out a dog.” Areida said

“Thank you so much!”

“No problem.” Areida hung up and Oscar was smiling.

“Im guessing you have a puppy.” Lando said.

“I have a puppy!” Oscar says with his hands in the air in celebration.

During the triple header, Oscar has been researching about the dog breed and how to socialize puppies since he has never had a pet of his own. He has also been talking to Areida the puppies, how far along are they, if there was a Ruby colored one, the works. Now it was time for the silverstone Grand Prix, despite it being an hour and a half away from their apartment in Woking, Y/N managed to drive all the way there to support her boyfriend. Of course, the distance was nothing for the American girl. So Y/N attended FP3, qualifying, and of course the Grand Prix, after the race, Y/N drove Oscar back home with her. Well, Oscar drove, it was a rule that she’ll always be passenger princess as long as he’s around.

“How’re you holding up, darling?” Oscar asked

“I feel better, I talked to my mom, she’s doing alright, same with my dad, my brother is better too.” Y/N responded.

“That’s good, have you been getting some sun?” Oscar asked.

“Tiburóncin, it’s England,.” Y/N answered and Oscar laughed “but yes, I’ve been going outside.”

The car ride was full of conversation but Y/N slept the last half hour of the car ride. They entered the apartment and had a lovely dinner together. The next day is where Oscar’s plan begins now that Y/N was at work. He called Areida during his workout to see when it’s a good time to pick up the puppy and she said that 12 should be good. After his workout, he showered, and as soon as it hit 12, he knocked on Areida’s door.

“Oscar, who knew you were so punctual. Come in, the puppies are in the living room.” Areida said. Oscar walked into the apartment and spotted the doggy gate caging 5 little cavalier King Charles spaniel puppies. Oscar cooed at the sight of them

They are adorable, I don’t know how you’re having trouble rehoming them.” Oscar said, he spotted the Ruby colored puppy, she looked so small. “Is that’s the youngest one?”

“Yeah, she’s the runt. And I’m picky with the selection process, okay? I’m not giving these puppies away to parents who want them as gifts for their children, a lot of dogs end up in shelters that way.” Areida said.

“That’s true. Can i pick her up?” Oscar asked.

“If she’s the one you’re taking, yes.” Areida said. Oscar carefully picked up the Ruby runt, stroking her fur and she leaned into his touch.

“Hello, Lady, You’re a surprise for my girlfriend.” Oscar said.

“Do you have everything you need?” Areida asked.

“I looked up a lot about this breed, I ordered all the stuff, I’m just going to pick it up.” Oscar said.

“Alright, i trust you.” Areida said.

“Do I pay you?” Oscar asked.

“I believe two months rent is fair considering your job.” Areida said. Oscar playfully rolled his eyes.

“Consider your rent paid.” Oscar said. He left Areida’s apartment to go to his car down in the garage.

He had Lady in his lap the entire drive, took about 15 minutes to go to the pet store and pick up everything, he set up her dog bed in the passenger seat so she can ride comfortably, he has her collar that he had made to be an exact replica like the collar in the movie, starter chew toys (like on of each kind to see what toys Lady likes), pee pads, leash and harness, and of course her food and water bowl and actual food. He made it to the apartment and set up everything. Since Lady is not vaccinated, she’s on the couch while Oscar vacuums and mops the floor. When he’s done, he sets Lady on the floor along with the lee pads so she can get acclimated with her new environment. Lady is smelling everything, wagging her tail, she looks very happy. She stopped to play with one of her toys. But he noticed Lady’s tail wagging even more and that’s when he heard the keys, Y/N is coming. The door opened and the first thing Y/N sees is a little fluffy thing walking up to her. Y/N coos and starts petting her.

“Oh hello, pero que cosa tan linda, are we pet sitting for Areida?” Y/N asked.

“No, actually, this is Lady, your new puppy.” Oscar said. Y/N stood up and hugged Oscar.

“I can’t believe it, she’s so cute, why did you get her?” Y/N asked.

“Well i couldn’t stand seeing my girl so upset and I remembered that you told me you always wanted a dog like Lady and now you have your very own Lady.” Oscar said, picking Lady up to make a point.

“You are the best boyfriend ever, I love you.” Y/N said, kissing him. “Aw, you’re going to be more spoiled than a Beverly Hills Chihuahua, let me tell you.” Y/N said, petting Lady and letting her lick her fingers. “How old is she?”

“About 9 weeks. We still have to get her vaccinated so for the mean time, we gotta carry her outside.” Oscar said,

“That’s fine by me, that way she’ll get used to everything.” Y/N said and Oscar out Laday down. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” Oscar said, kissing her.

Liked by yourusername and 752,917 others

oscarpiastri welcome the newest member of our little family, Lady.

View 38,928 comments

yourusername she’s absolutely adorable! I love her so much, thank you, tiburóncin 😘

charlesleclerc if you lived in Monaco, we could have play dates

landonorris just like the movie

logansargeant so cute! I gotta meet her, man

user37 sorry, Leo Leclerc, but Lady Piastri has stolen my heart 😍😍

The End

Hope y’all liked it! Now that I have published a Lando Norris fanfic, a Logan Sargeant fic, and now an Oscar Piastri fic, do y’all like them enough for me to write more?

[worldofkuro]

Painted Smile

Painted Smile X

Pairing: Alastor x Female! Reader

<- Previous Chapter I Next Chapter ->

Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

Notes: I won't lie it was a difficult chapter because Reader's psyche is changing but without this I loved this chapter. I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I did ! There is fluff but beware there are racism, killing envy and blood. But nothing too bad I think... yet. I really hope you'll love it, it's the turning point of the story !

You woke up against Alastor's naked chest, still enveloped in blankets. You could feel him playing with your hair while humming a song you’ve heard on the radio. You tilted your head toward him, watching his face wearing his usual smile. 

“ Hello, dear.” he whispered. You kissed his cheeks and put your head back against his warm chest. You could feel his body being more tense than usual, maybe being almost naked against each other made him uncomfortable? You tried to sit up but he pushed your head against his chest once again. “ Stay…”

You hummed, caressing his scars. It was strange, the skin color was different depending if there were scars but you were surprised by how smooth it was. You couldn’t tell the difference between his scars and his skin. 

“ Who did this to you..?” you whispered. Even though you both were alone in the cottage, cut from the outside world by the snowstorm you didn’t want to break the comfortable and quiet atmosphere. You felt like, if you began to talk louder, Alastor would shield himself from you. You felt him take a big deep breath before speaking a word you couldn't help but expect.

“ My father.” He sighed.

“ Do you wish to talk about it?”

“ What is there to tell, dear? The man who owned the title of being my father had my mother pregnant, he wanted to be a perfect man so he married her.  It was a gamble that failed. I was born and he would beat me or my mother if we were acting a little too “ black” for him, with his belt, his fists, cold water and so many other things. He teached me how to hunt, how to kill, how to hurt… I know so many things that would make you run away from me, my dear friend…” he hugged you tighter.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt this angry. The man you have met many times, the very man who hurted Alastor, has always been close to you and you’ve never seen it. You tried not to imagine Alastor being alone in his room being beaten hard by his father while trying not to cry while holding onto Eamon. Had you hurted him when you would smash into his arms for a hug? Had you hurted him when you would jump on his back because you didn’t want to be walking because you were oh so tired. Why didn’t you realize that Eamon’s fur was getting redder and redder because Alastor was bleeding on him because of his father. Why did you not realize that Alastor didn’t want to let Marie alone in this house because there was a demon living among them.

“ Dear?”

“ I hope he dies during the war.”

There was a silence before Alastor tilted your head by your chin toward his face. His eyes had the same warm glint but there was something else, something darker that seemed to try to stay hidden. He was looking at you, observing you like he was searching for some kind of answer. You tried to show how angry you were, you wanted your eyes to give the answer Alastor was looking for. 

“ And if I told you I didn’t wish for him to be killed during war?”

Your eyes widened. What? 

“ Alastor.. I know he is your father and maybe you still feel some kind of bond with him but you shouldn’t. He doesn’t even deserve to be killed as a soldier, he should be taken by the enemy, tortured until he can’t even spell his own name. Being eaten by dogs. No, it would be bad meat for the dogs. He should just get his members cut off, his tongue eaten by rats, he shou–” you gasped as Alastor kissed you, pressing your body against his own. Why was he kissing you so passionately when you were talking about how his father should die.

He leaned back with a soft smile, that dangerous glint in his eyes back. You tilted your head, you didn't finish talking, it was rude of him.

“ Aah.. Darling, you are…” he sighed in bliss as you felt his nails dug comfortably into your waist.” What if.. What if I told you I didn't want him to be killed because..” he stared at you a moment before speaking again.”  I want to be the one to kill him.”

You shivered even though you were against Alastor’s warm chest and under several blankets. Alastor wanted to kill his own father? You were staring at him while he was observing you, waiting for your reaction. Alastor wanted to kill his own father? Well, you did want the bastard dead and Alastor deserved his revenge but to kill.. to kill another human being…

“ Killing him…? But …”

“ Don’t see him as living being my dear, he isn’t worth the title. Think of it.. Like I’m going to hunt a dangerous animal that needs to be put down. I’m just like your ideal Prince charming , aren’t I? Killing dangerous people for his loved one?” He tilted his head with a soft smile. 

You couldn’t help but nod. What he was saying was true. Killing his father would be a great thing. You were beginning to scared yourself as you felt no remorse or guilt to think about Alastor killing his father, his own blood. Why would you? He didn’t deserve to live after what he had done to Alastor and Marie. The idea didn’t scare you but your thoughts did. Deep inside you, you knew you weren’t scared because this idea was coming from Alastor. You trusted him with your life.

“ How would you kill him?” you asked, curiously. You giggled as he kissed you everywhere on your face. His body, once tense, was beginning to relax a little. You didn’t know what you had done but it seemed like your gave the answer Alastor was waiting for.

“ How I’m going to kill him, you mean. I have many ideas my dear! By knife, rifle or maybe by strangling him?” he pondered as he stared at the ceiling with a happy grin.

“ Won’t he be able to scream if you strangle him?” you asked. You remembered, when you were playing with your cousins, some would play a little too hard and would “strangle” you. You would just scream so your mother would come and scold your cousins.

“ Oh trust me dear, if you do it right, you can’t scream for help.”

“ How do you know?” 

“ Well, I tried to scream for my mother one day.” he smiled at you and you felt angrier than you were minutes ago. His bastard father had strangled Alastor when he was a kid. What a demon! He really didn’t deserve to be alive! “ I have so many ideas!”

“ You know, If you really happened to kill him, I wouldn’t tell a soul… In fact.. If you need me at that moment.. I promise, I’ll be there.” you said sure of yourself. You did not know if you could handle everything but you’ll be by Alastor’s side from the beginning. You didn’t know if you could kill… It was a thought too far from your morals but helping Alastor if he happened to be injured or something else… That, you would do it.

“ Oh dear.. Don’t tell me that, you’re going to make me say things I’m not ready to tell yet.” he sighed dreamily as he tilted his head backwards. Now, that made you curious. What could Alastor be hiding, he just told you he planned to murder his father, what more could you be hiding ? You smiled as you nipped his neck, making him shiver.

“ Like what? Tell me. Tell me!” you smiled as you kept kissing him on his jaws, his cheeks and his nose. “ Come on now, you just told me you wanted to kill your father, what more can’t you tell me ?” you whined before settling against him once more. You closed your eyes and listened to his heartbeat. It was fast…

“ Fine… Dearest, once I have killed my father,” you hummed while he took your hand in his. “ Would you marry me?”

…

Oh Lord.

You sat up, staring at him.  He was looking at you, kissing the back of your hand. You were shaking, did he .. did he..?

“ I won’t lie, I still don’t know what Love is about. I just know that I want you to be by my side, I don’t think I could remain sane if I were to see your attention shifting to someone else. Just like Narcissus with his own reflection, I can’t get enough of you and yet I feel so fulfilled when you are by my side. I’m… I think I may be obsessed with you. You are the person who brought my human heart to life, how odd. I know it’s not the love you read about or you wish for.. I don’t even know if this is love. But this is what I feel for you, and I don’t think I’ll be able to feel it for anyone else, heck, I don’t want to feel it for anyone else…I want you caged with me. I want you to think about me just like I’m always thinking about you.” he stared at you, waiting for your answer, caressing your trembling hand. His eyes were shaking but he kept his gaze on you, observing your reactions. “ Would you accept my mad affection?”

You were shaken. You were with Alastor, almost naked, sitting on his pelvis with a blanket around you and a snowstorm outside.You felt hot. So hot. Alastor wanted to marry you. He wanted you to be his wife? It felt like everything clicked in your brain. Each time you were running after him, each time you wanted to make him like you, each time you wanted him to see you as a lady, each time you asked him to let you enter into his mind, each time you felt anger when a woman would come close to him, each time you wanted him to watch you and only you.

You were madly in love and obsessed with Alastor.

You read so many love novels… The prince never asked the princess to marry after telling her he was going to kill his father. The prince never asked the princess to think about him only. Their love was pure, not tainted by obsession, not tainted by the immense need to be by their lover’s side… Their love was not like what was happening right now.

And yet you couldn’t be happier.

You smiled at him, your vision blurry because of the tears blinding your eyes.

“ Alastor.. I may be just a foolish sixteen year old girl. Maybe your obsession will pass when you see I have nothing to offer you but trust me, my affection for you has been present since the day I laid my eyes on you.” you felt him squeeze your hand harder as you continued your confession.” We are both young, so maybe you’ll change your mind. You’ll find a proper woman but I know that you are the only man I wish for in my life. The only man I wish I would marry…” you sobbed as you squeezed his hand back as he stared at you with clear obsession in his eyes. He leaned toward you, whispering against your lips.

“ Say it.. Say it..” he begged.

“ Yes, Alastor, I will marry you.”

He kissed you with a big smile you couldn’t help but imitate. He hugged you against him so hard you felt pain in your chest but you didn't care. You squeezed him as hard as you could, you’ve never felt happier.

“I feel like this is too good to be true…” you heard him say against your skin. You couldn’t help but laugh while wiping your eyes. You leaned back as you took both of his hands in yours.

“ It’s true.. I feel like.. Once we leave this place, everything would be a faraway dream.” you sighed with a soft smile. You felt like you were dreaming right now…

“ I.. May have an idea for that.” he smirked at you as you tilted your head, confused. “ I find myself being interested in voodoo.” he held his hand in front of your mouth as you gasped. “ No worry darling, voodoo is not a barbaric religion. It’s in my blood, I found books about it and where it came from. And, there are some rituals that can bind souls together… Would you like to try it?”

“ For real?” you said, astonished. From what you heard, voodoo was a banned religion because it was witchcraft which came from black people. You didn’t really find yourself into religion, men killed for religion no matter which one. But if voodoo was something Alastor’s looked into and was coming from his ancestors, that could be interesting.

“ Yes indeedy. They wrote it as a curse though but…” you peck his nose before he could continue.

“ Yes, I want to.” you smiled. “ How do we do it?”

“ I don’t have the book with me right now. But it’s very specific.. I’ll need some of your blood.” he said carefully but soon his expression turned to surprise as you ran toward the kitchen and gave back with a knife. “ Well, aren’t you in a hurry to be bound to me body and soul?” he said with a teasing smile.

“ Oh, you are right, we can wait.” you said and smiled delightedly when you saw his expression twitched. You knew that Alastor would be the less patient of the both of you for this kind of thing, for you, which was surprising, he was known to be patient, very patient. “ Here I was, ready to make my ring finger bleed.” you shook your head with a saddened expression. “ How foolish…”

“ Dear…”

“ Seems like I’m in no hurry to become your wife!” you squeaked as Alastor tugged you against his chest with a smile so big it almost looked like inhuman.

“ Dearest, don’t play with me. Not with that.” he gently took the knife from your hand. “ No need for this. If you accepted, I could cut you.” he looked at you, seeming unsure. You tilted your head, cutting yourself seemed scary indeed.

“ It’s going to hurt, right..?” you asked softly.  You watched as he played smoothly  with the knife in his hand. You wished you knew how to do it…

“ I’ll try to make it so you don’t feel anything.” 

“ No. I want to feel it. I want to feel this moment.” you said sure of yourself.  Tonight would mark the first step of becoming Alastor’s wife, body and soul. You would be damned together or go to heaven together, there were no in between. You saw Alastor’s smile widened, it seemed like he was sharing the same feeling as you about this situation.

You looked as he sunk softly the knife’s edge into your skin. You shivered as you bit your lips, you were feeling no pain. You remembered in your romance books, normally the woman would be crying as the prince would pass the ring on her fingers. And yet, here you were, letting Alastor cut your skin and enjoying it. 

He took a napkin from the table and held it against your bleeding finger. 

“ Are you okay?” he asked, observing your reaction once more. You nodded, you don’t think you could feel even better ! He put the napkin on this table with a satisfied smile before you pinned him on the sofa, hugging him against you.

“ I’m the happiest girl in the whole world !” you shouted before leaving the sofa, leaving there a confused smiling Alastor, and you jumped everywhere. You couldn’t wait to tell your mother, your father, Alice ! You squealed in delight as you jumped around under Alastor’s soft gaze.

“ You gave me the best birthday’s present.” he said as he stood up. You grinned at him, his birthday was tomorrow, you needed to prepare the food. Even if you knew nobody would be coming, it was for the better!

You took Marie’s recipes’s book, still with the blankets around you.

“ Let your future wife cook for you!” you smiled confidently.

Alastor let you in the kitchen for 15 minutes before running back because he smelt fire. You just smiled sweetly at him with a burned stove. Alastor sighed with a tender smile before helping you cook. You wanted to try to cook something spicy, that’s why you had asked Alice to bring hot pepper for his birthday.

“ Do you think you could eat one and handle it ?” you teased him. He just looked at you and ate a whole pepper without flinching. You stared at him in shock. He winked at you before giving you a hot pepper with a mocking smile.

“ Could you handle it?”

You scoffed and took the hot pepper in your hands.  If Alastor did it, you could do it! You took the whole hot pepper in your mouth and swallowed it. You waited a little then laughed at Alastor.

“ I had worse at my– Oh my god..” you stopped every movement as your felt pure fire began to grow inside of you. You felt tears streaming down your face as you coughed, holding on Alastor’s arms as he was laughing so hard you could see tears on the side of his eyes. “ Alastor, help me!” you tried to fan your tongue, jumping around as Alastor held himself against the wall, crying of laughter.

“ Haha! Dear, drink milk ! milk!” he laughed as he pointed to the fridge. You ran toward it and slammed its door open. Did you even have milk? Yes! You took the bottle and drank messily the milk until the bottle was half full. “ Oh dear… Would you like a kiss after this horrible experiment?” he smiled as he walked toward you, but as he leaned closer to your face you almost could feel the hot pepper still on his lips.

You ran away, screaming at him. You didn’t want to feel this pain anymore! You were screaming as Alastor ran behind you, his laughter echoing in the little cottage.You couldn’t help but smile, if this scene would represent your future with Alastor, you would love it!

After your battle, easily won by Alastor’s lips against yours, you went back to cooking. Alastor was showing you how to cook and you took notes. It seemed so easy from his movement. You were almost jealous but then you began to smile as you remembered that you would see this scene every day in the future.

“ You have such a big smile dear, does watching me cooking bring you such pleasure?” he asked teasingly. You stuck your tongue at him, you knew he was happier than he let on. His smile was more genuine and his body was more relaxed than you've ever seen him. 

After an hour you went back to the living room, near the fire and ate Alastor’s cooking. You called your mothers to reassure them that everything was good and you were safe. You gossiped, played a few games, like poker and Alastor was way too good about it , you would just throw a pillow at him each time he would wink at you, meaning he knew he had won. You took a nap against Alastor’s chest and when you woke up it was almost midnight. You stood up from his chest and were surprised to see Alastor asleep. Maybe being away from everything, with you had made him relaxed enough that his body could sleep? You smiled and went to the kitchen and took a cake out of the fridge. You tried to make a coffee cake two days ago, you hoped it was still good… You put the candle on the cake and lit them up before walking toward the living room. 

You saw an awaken Alastor turning his head toward you as you sat in front of him on your knees, with a soft smile and whispered in the quiet room.

“ Happy birthday, Alastor”

~~~

“ Happy birthday Alastor!” you all cheered and brough your glasses together. You were in a bar with jazz playing, celebrating the new year and Alastor’s 23th birthday. Alice was there, with some of Alastor’s friends, you didn’t really remember all of their names but one, Mimzy. It was a name you never heard of so it stuck with you.

Alastor has become a real man. He was taller than most people, his frame was deceivingly slim, his smile was as broad as ever, his hair were a little longer than when he was younger and as always , he had his glasses on. He was grinning as everyone congratulated him for his birthday. You looked at Alice with a soft smile.

Alice had changed too. Long gone was the sweet innocent looking girl, she was now a beautiful woman who was confident in any way. She had cut her long hair, now they ended toward her shoulder. She looked at you and winked.

“ Another shot?”

You laughed and nodded but Alastor stood up.

“ My dear friend, what a day to celebrate the new year and myself. I have happy news to share.” all of you looked at Alastor, waiting for him to tell you his news. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes with a smile, he was such an attention seeker. “ My voice is going to keep you company most of the day as I have been hired in a radio station.” he said with a proud smirk, his eyes never leaving yours. You shouted of pure happiness, standing up so abruptly the chair fell down behind you. You clapped just like the rest of the people around the table.

“ I knew you would do it, sweetie!” said Mizmy, giving him a side hug.

“ I'm paying for another round of shots!” you exclaimed with a big smile. You didn't even wait for everyone to tell you what they wanted. You were already going toward the barman. You were really walking straight but who cared, everyone here was busted. 

“ Heya doll, whatcha want?”

“ Give me your strongest.” you said while pointing to your table. He nodded and you went back to your table who were still praising Alastor. You sat back down next to Alice.

“ Hearing Alastor’s voice all day? Ugh, I’ll have to endure it.” she said with an amused expression. You laughed, Alastor and Alice always say they didn’t like each other but when it was for you, they would team up. 

“ I can’t wait to hear his voice on the radio. You don’t understand, we’ve been waiting for it since childhood!” you said with a nostalgic smile. You remembered your sleepover and your childish broadcast… Aah, how time flies. You smiled as the waitress put the shots on the table with a whole bottle of whiskey. 

“ Order from the house.” she said flirty before leaving. You all took one shot and drank it. You try not to grimace, this one was really strong. You laughed as you saw Alice’s head fall against the table.

“ Oh, this one was a bitch.” 

“ You need more training, love.” you heard Mimzy say to Alice as she tapped her back. You looked at Alastor who didn’t even flinch. He was talking with one of his friends but you knew better… Those friends must be useful in some way. Your expression lifted up as you heard a song you wanted to dance to. You moved Alastor’s friend out of your way and dragged him on the dancefloor. You laughed as he began to spinned you.

“ Are you sure you can handle me in that state, love?” he taunted you as he spinned you back against his broad chest. You winked at him, you may be more than tipsy but you weren’t drunk yet. You could handle him. You began to dance with Alastor, quickly being the center of all attention. You knew every step by heart, Alastor could throw you in the air you would just close your eyes and wait for him to catch once again.

After a lot of dances, you went back to your table as Alastor danced with Mimzy. You sat next to Alice, making air with your hand. So hot.

“ I won’t lie, there is so much tension between you I don’t know how you don’t just.. jump each other when you both are alone.” Alice said before drinking a glass of whiskey.

You laughed, smacking her arms. There have been moments where Alastor and you would make out so intensely you would get ready to give him your virginity but he always said to be patient and wait for your future wedding night even if it was killing you both. You respected his decision, you would wait for your wedding. The only person who knew what had happened in the cottage, the only one who knew about your promise, for Alastor 17th birthday was Alice, who almost broke every damn mirror with her screams.

“ What? Look at you ! You’re like.. ethereal ! And I’m the one saying that.” she said before slipping her hair to one side of her shoulder. You grinned, you did grow up well. Your mother was so proud of you and even your father. When your father had returned from war he was badly injured so you took upon yourself to be his personal nurse. You weren’t a perfect nurse but you knew how to clean wounds, do stitches, you weren’t disgusted by the sight of blood anymore. And to top it all off, you were used to seeing Alastor bring back dead animals from his hunt now. You weren’t the fragile little girl anymore. Something your parents would missed sometimes, but from your friends point of view and even Alastor’s, you could still be endearingly naive.

“ And what about you Alice? The jewel of New Orleans? No one fancied yet?” you smirked before taking a glass of whiskey. Alice had, as always, so many people who threw themselves to her feet but she didn’t care. 

“ No, which is infuriating , look at me ! Poor little me being single!” she groaned as you laughed before hugging her. You knew Alice would find someone, she deserved it!

You kept celebrating until 3 am before you knew it was time for you to go. You were tired and you knew you would have to take care of your father if needed. He was doing well but he couldn’t stay still so he went to work with the police. What a stubborn man. You kissed Alice on her cheek and smiled when you felt a warm hand on your back.

“ Ready to go, dearest?” Alastor smiled at you, he already had his jacket on his arm. You nodded and said your goodbye before leaving the bar. You were staring at Alastor’s handsome punchable face. He looked down at you with a teasing grin. “ Yes ?”

“ Nothing.. I’m just admiring your face.”

“ Oh, please, do continue.” he chuckled as he walked you to your home. In front of your door you hugged him as he kissed your forehead. You began to turn away from him, ready to catch some sleep but he took your hands.

“ I say I had good news right?”

“ Yes, you are now a radio host.” you smiled before giving him a peck on his lips. “ I’m so proud of you. We’ve been waiting for this, haven't we?”

“ We have, indeedy, dearest. But I have some other news, for both of us.” He took your hand toward his mouth and kissed the back of it, staring into your soul.

“ My father is coming back.”

Tag List: @lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova @sirens-and-moonflowers @eris-norwega @tiredflame132 @mo-0-o @vvollerie @sodavizz @boogiemansbitch @tessemerick @slytherin4ever @kammsinn @alastorssimp @t0xic1vi @diamond-almond @fangirlbitch02 @saccharine-nectarine @thenorthnightingale @bibliophile-yomna @itzjustj-1000 @mothraantics

[opiopal]

random mc stuff that I dont want to be their own post so HERE WE GO.(a lot if not most of theses are cracked out lmao)

imagine an Mc who noticed certain dirty things in the HOL and REALLY wanted to something about it but couldn't cause they were still a stranger. so once all the pacts are made Mc immediately goes around the HOL and attacks all the spots that bug them.. and isn't afraid to vocalize their complaints. "lucifer, when was the last time you guys washed these curtains?? you know what, don't answer that, I can already tell that the last time these were washed I hadn't even been born yet." "who is in charge of sweeping?? there is so much dirt under these rugs!! common guys, seriously???" "Mammon, Levi, twins.. I love you guys SO much.. this is commmon knowledge at this point... but cleaning your pillow cases is NOT enough you NEED to also wash the pillow itself. you guys are gross. gather up your pillows we're doing a soak." "beel. come here and lift me up. I'm dusting the chandelier." "Lucifer, I do not CARE if you're working right now your shelves are littered with dust. either ignore me or go take a break because I'm not leaving."

once during breakfast the brothers could hear cerberus growling and grumbling in the basement, it was annoying but they were trying to ignore it until they realized Mc wasn't at the table.... which of course once it was pointed out they all rushed to the basement.. only to find cerberus laying on its back and Mc sitting above it and quickly rubbing and scratching under each heads chins while going "good boys!!!! good puppy!!!!" and cerberus very happily whining and grumbling with their tail thumping on the ground. when they manage to get Mc away from the silly, the only explanation mc gives it "there is a massive three headed dog that lives in the basement and is feared by 6 out of the 7 men who live here, how could I NOT pet them??? clearly no one but lucifer does!!"

imagine an Mc who is a selective mute, and normally communicates through ASL and notes. the first time they talk is after knowing the brothers for a GOOD amount of time, and its not a sweet wholesome moment no no. Mc comes home with Lucifer after they finished running errands, and the HOL had been: flooded by levi summoning lotan, the living room had been torn up by satan, the kitchen was in pieces because beel got hangry, asmo had joined in on the chaos after his bedroom got damaged as well, mammon was struggling to keep everyone together, and belphie was sleeping on a chandelier. of couse it dies down the moment they all see lucifer and mc got home, and before lucifer could say anything Mc threw their ars up and went "guys what the FUCK we've hardly been gone for an hour!!" of course all the chaos is forgotten for a second and replaced by multiple "YOUCANTALK?!"s, which then shock and amazement turned to shame as they realize the first time they were graced by Mc's voice was because they were being idiots and Mc was upset at them.

imagine an Mc who isn't really used to people caring all that much about them, and finds it very odd that the brothers+other characters care so much. so once their birthday comes around its turned into a birthday WEEK because Mc is being gifted things and being taken out everyday until their actual birthday, which BAFFLES them, so when their birthday comes its a huge event, Dia hosts the party at his castle, there are so many presents you'd think it would be for a family of 18 on christmas day. and when Mc is sat infront of their cake they can't help but suddenly start crying, while everyone is panicking the only thing Mc can say is "I-*hic*- love you guys so much!!" once they realized it was happy tears there was much less panic, and it was forgotten about for the rest of the evening.

You guys remember my post about pacts marks and Mc feeling a demons sin really strongly after making a pact with them??? well this relates to that. imagine if mc feels something strongly that sin kind of takes over for a while until mc is satisfied (asmo enjoyers do what you want with that info), so imagine: theres just a day were Mc doesn't get the chance to eat, first they slept in and just had to rush to RAD, then they had to skip lunch because they agreed to help a few clubs with advertising and projects, then they had to stay after for a student council meeting, then, just as they think they can maybe grab a snack they get held up again, by the time everyone is going home all the brothers can sense Mc's aggression, half way to the HOL lucifer says that they should just go eat at hells kitchen. so they're all seated, and the second Mc's food gets out they dont even bother with utensils, they just grab their food with their bare hands and eat like they're a starved dog. of course the brothers are concerned as to why they're acting like this, and mammon reaches to put a hand on Mc's shoulder as he says "hey- are you ok-" but he cant even finish talking before Mc jerks their head and nearly takes a few of his fingers off, though they dont bite him cause he moves away fast enough with a "EEP" and Mc's teeth loudly click together. so from then on the brothers make sure that Mc is able to eat something throughout the day if their schedule is packed to reduce the risk of losing fingers. honorable mention is Mc getting praised to much one day that the amount of pride they feel almost puts lucifer into a coma.(satan and belphie sometimes praise Mc a bunch to distract lucifer while he's working, another cheeky win for the anti lucifer league)

imagine an Mc who gets so over protective of the brothers, like CRAZY protective. there is a point were they hear someone talking SHIT about their found family trope, so ofc the reasonable reaction is to tackle the demon down to the ground and almost bite their ear off like some sort of rabid raccoon. another time Mc squares up with some sort of magical mythical beast in protection of the brothers, almost won and would have if the brothers didn't stop them.

imagine an Mc who is very introverted and is secretly a fanfic writer, so one day levi and Mc are hanging out, he's just rambling about whatever, until he eventually mentions that a fic he was reading hasn't gotten updated in a while and ist just so frustrating to him. when Mc asks which fic he was reading, he pull it up and shows them... which Mc realizes thats THEIR fic... and outloud without thinking they mumble "oohh I forgot about that one..." and levi freaks out and immediately is questioning what they mean by that. which they eventually have to admit it.

Imagine a little kid Mc, I mean like, LITTLE, as in like 7-8 yr. and they are just such a sweeite, and they work so hard. but I can also imagine that when they're first sent there and the introductions are happening, when lucifer introduces himself Mc immediately interupts and goes "lucifer?? like the cat from Cinderella?:0" and then ofc when mammon is assigned to take care of the child he is a lot nicer at first, I wouldn't be surprised if having Mc around reminded him of his younger siblings when they were that small,(yes I am a believer of the brothers being at least little kids at some point in their angel lives) but then eventually gets Mc to go along with a few schemes, which they both have fun cause really it just turns into bonding. then ofc asmo adores this little creature and has little dress up parties and helps Mc get ready for school in the morning so they always look their best!! lucifer gave him permission for this since he agrees that Mc should look put together despite being a child. I still think it takes a while for the brothers to warm up fully to Mc, but it goes by a lot faster since mc quickly becomes their new little sibling. I think it would be cute if what won over lucifer is Mc coming into his office at some point, saying that they have something for him, and gives him a drawing, lucifer ends up scooping them up to sit with him and they explain what they drew, and its mc and all the brothers:( that drawing is almost immediately framed and put up where everyone can see it.

thats all for now, but I have a LOT of Mc what if's and imagines, my fingers hurt from typing now lol.

[kjupchurch-xx]

🩷 Conflicting Feelings 🩷 Part 3

Hugh and I ended up getting take-out for lunch. We spent the last 24 hours together. Things were nice. Things were right. The last 24 hours had been spent working out kinks of what was to come next. It was spent with hours of being in each other's arms and many passionate kisses. He'd been my person for years. These things had only ever taken place in my dreams, I never imagined them becoming a reality.  I'd always wondered what his kisses were like. The thoughts made me smile as a red blush appeared on my cheeks. 

He came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and looking at me through the full length mirror while resting his head on my shoulder. "What's got you turning red?" He asked, smirking at me through the mirror. 

Our height difference was pretty silly considering I'm 5'0 and he towers me at 6'2, so imagine him bending down to actually rest his chin on my shoulder. I tilted my head looking at him through the mirror, "Nothing." I said pursing my lips together. 

He chuckled, "Are you sure, love?" He asked sweetly. 

I quickly nodded, "I'm sure." before turning to look at him, staring for a moment, "What?" He asked laughing. I shook my head, "Nothing. I just can't believe this is even happening right now." I said honestly. 

He smiled, "Well it is. And if you'll have me, I'm all yours." His gaze went down to my lips for a moment before meeting my eyes once again. 

Flashback to September 5th, 2021: 

I was back home in South Carolina visiting family. I'd just finished playing an extra in a movie when my phone started ringing. It was Hugh, who was in England filming for his new movie The Son. Figuring he was just calling to ask about my filming experience, I answered. 

I could hear sniffling, "Hey, how was filming?" I asked, trying to hide the concern in my voice. 

He sighed, sniffling a bit more as he belted out, "My father died." the tremble in his voice killed me. 

I sighed, "Oh shit. I'm so sorry, babe. Is Deb on her way?" I asked, hoping she'd canceled whatever she had going on since he was in England alone. 

That simple question broke him, "I fucking rang her and she just said 'I'm so sorry babe, I'll see you when you get home. I can't leave the dogs.' Who the fuck says that?!" His voice dripping with hurt as he continued breaking. 

I closed my eyes, feeling my teeth start to grit, "Are you serious?" 

He sniffled, choking on his tears, "I just lost my fucking father. I'm in another country filming a movie I can't even focus on at this moment and that's all I get from her." 

I quickly put the phone and speaker and sent Deb a text. 

Me: Hey, I saw the news. If you guys need someone to keep the pups while you go to Australia, I don't mind keeping them. I miss Dali and Allegra!

She text me back almost immediately after I hit send.

Debbora-Lee: Thank you, honey. I appreciate it but I'm not going to be able to go. Ava has school stuff we can't miss unfortunately. 

I sighed, "I'm so sorry, babe. You're in England, right?" I asked knowingly as I began searching for flights on my phone. Someone has to be there and I guess if she refuses to be there, I'll have to go to make sure he can make it through his film and to make sure he's okay. 

He coughed again, "Yes, I'm in fucking London." 

I bit my bottom lip as I booked the first flight I saw, "Meet me at the airport at 11 pm your time." 

He sniffled, surprised, "Where are you? What do you mean?" He asked, confused. 

I sighed, "I'll be landing in London at 11." I said while grabbing my things, throwing them in my bag to haul ass to the airport. 

"No love, you don't have to do that. Don't mess up your time with your family." He said softly. 

"It's already paid for. Just pick me up at 11." I said as I ended the call. 

I'm pissed. I'm pissed she can't get off her ass to fly to be with her husband who just lost his father. I'm pissed my time with my family got ruined because of this fucked up situation, but he's my best friend and he obviously needs someone on his side. He called Deb, then called me. I'm pissed that I can't show this man what he means to me because of a marriage he's in with such a selfish person. But I'll go be the hero and save his ass because she refuses to. Time to put my platonic face on. 

11 PM, London, England: 

After a 10 hour flight, a comfortable bed is all I'm after. I booked a room at the same hotel Hugh was staying to be close by. I hadn't seen him in months. I was excited, despite the circumstance of why I came in the first place. I stepped off the escalator, the airport was practically dead at this time. Maybe 20 other people and I'm sure they all just got off the flight I was on. I quickly found the baggage claim, grabbing my things and checking my phone. 

"You really didn't have to do this." I heard a familiar voice, my favorite Australian say as he approached me, pulling me into a quick hug. 

He looked awful. His eyes were swollen from crying, his hair was a mess. He was almost unrecognizable.  

I shrugged, "You didn't have anybody else. That's what I'm here for." I smiled. "Take me to the hotel. I'm tired and ready to be away from airports and planes." I said, walking towards the doors. 

He gave me a sad smile, "Isn't this your first time out of the country?" He asked, looking at me, walking with me towards his car. 

I nodded, "It is. Finally putting the passport I've had for a year now to good use." I laughed. 

As we approached his car, he opened the door for me and grabbed my bags, placing them in the back, then coming to get in the driver's seat. "I'm so thankful to have someone like you in my life. Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me." He said, his voice slightly shaking. 

I took a deep breath, trying to contain my own emotions, "Don't mention it. That's what friends are for, babe." I said with a small smile. 

He took me to a fast food place to grab a bite to take to the hotel with me. As we reached the hotel and got up to the room, he stopped holding his composure and broke. I couldn't help but pull him into my arms and stroke his back as he wept. I'd never seen Hugh actually cry and the sight was heartbreaking. Nonetheless, I'm glad I'm here so he isn't alone. We spent hours with him crying, telling me stories about his father and the kind of man he was, we rehearsed his lines for The Son until the sun came sweeping into the hotel room. 

Present Day:

"What's on your mind?" He asked, giving me a serious look. 

I looked at him, "Nothing, I was just thinking about the night I flew to London to see you." 

He chuckled, "Ah, the night that started it all."

I playfully rolled my eyes, "I don't remember anything being started on my part. I remember trying to call your wife and let her have it... but you wouldn't let me." I laughed at the last part. 

He laughed, "No, I wouldn't. I told you that you were better than that and I didn't want her to ban me from seeing you." He said with a smirk. 

"Honestly though, that was the night that really did something for me. I had nothing but platonic feelings for you until you did that for me. After that weekend with you, just being there, being yourself and being there for me, helping me keep my head in the game with my film, it was hard to separate myself from developing feelings for you." He said quietly, slightly shaking his head almost as if he were in disbelief.

I kissed his cheek, "I'll bet you had no idea that I was absolutely smitten with you long before that. Which is why I flew to England. Do you think I fly across the world at the drop of a hat for anyone else?" I giggled. 

He looked at me, eyes widening a little, "What? You were not. You never showed it at all." 

I rolled my eyes again, "Um sir, you were married and I did not want to fight someone over their husband. I enjoyed our friendship and respected your marriage too much to do something stupid." 

He smirked, "No, but we did have a cuddle in London." 

I gasped, laughing, "No shit, you were an emotional mess. I wasn't going to just say 'Hey, I'm heading to the other room. See ya tomorrow, big guy.' What was I supposed to do?" I said crossing my arms. 

 He laughed, pecking my lips, wrapping his arms back around me, "Okay, point well made." 

It was starting to get late, now getting closer to 10 pm. I yawned, looking at him, "I'm sorry, but I refuse to sleep on the couch again tonight. I'm going to sleep in my bed tonight. You're welcome to join me unless you want a hard sofa." 

He smiled, "I'll be there in a second, love."

I smiled sleepily, yawning again before walking towards the bedroom, "Okay." 

As I got to the bedroom, I put on a tank top and matching pajama shorts before climbing into the big king sized bed. It wasn't as comfortable as my bed at home, but it would do. About 10 minutes later, Hugh walked in interrupting the annoyingly funny reality show I was watching. 

"Miss me?" He asked cockily while taking off his jeans and t-shirt, moving the blankets to lay beside me. 

I chuckled, "No, I had Mama June and Honey Boo Boo keeping me entertained."

He rolled his eyes, "I can't believe you actually watch that." He laid his arm over my shoulder, pulling me closer to him. 

I played as if I were offended, "Don't hate. They're hilarious." 

He looked at the tv, "I'm sorry it took me awhile to come in here. I was on the phone with Oscar." His voice sounded sad.

I chewed at my lip, nervous for what was to come next, as I rested my hand on his bare chest, softly caressing it. "It's okay. Is he okay?" I asked. 

He sighed, "He's fine. He's disappointed that his mum and I couldn't fix things, but he's old enough to understand that people have to do what makes them happy."  

I looked up at him, "Well, at least he understands. Does he know where you're at?..." I asked lowly. 

Hugh sat in silence. 

"Hugh... You didn't tell him you're with me, did you?..." I asked, growing worried, lifting up to look at him. 

He shook his head, "Well not at first, no. He asked where I was. I simply said LA. He asked who I was with. I didn't say. He said 'You're with her, aren't you, dad?' and you know I'm a terrible liar." 

I exhaled the breath I'd been holding in hopes he did not tell his child I was with him. Oscar and Ava adored me, but I did not need the world thinking I ripped this man out of his marriage and away from his family. 

He rubbed my cheek, "He knows you didn't do anything wrong. He's old enough to understand the issues Deb and I have. He knew his mum and I had been practically separated for years but didn't want to actually separate for their sake." 

I shook my head, "I hope you're right. I also hope he doesn't call her and tell her." I said without thinking. 

He shook his head, "He won't. He doesn't know what we're doing or what we've talked about. He knows you're always there. He probably thinks you're making sure I don't do something stupid and just being a good friend." 

I nodded, "Okay... If you say so." 

Hugh's phone lit up, a notification from Ryan Reynolds. It was a text. Opening it, it was a screen shot of his soon-to-be ex-wife, posted up with another man. I looked at Hugh, chewing my bottom lip, anxiously awaiting his response. 

He looked at me, "Good for her. She deserves happiness." He said bluntly. 

I pursed my lips, "You took that better than I imagined." I chuckled. 

He smiled, holding his phone up to take a picture with me. "What are you doing?..." I asked, not ready for his response. I knew exactly what he was doing. He was going to post his own selfie to get back at her. 

He smirked, "I'm just taking a selfie with my best friend that will be going on Instagram with the caption 'That's what friends are for'." He exclaimed proud of himself as he forced me to smile for the camera by tickling my side. 

"I can't believe how toxic you are." I said with a chuckle watching him post the picture to his Instagram. You could clearly see he was shirtless, I'm in a tank top and we're close to one another. This was going to go over great on the internet. 

He chuckled, "I can be toxic, but in a sexy way." He reminded me. 

Author's Note:  I'm actually having a lot of fun writing this. Let me guess... You guys want a part four? 

[lilimalia]

MOURNFUL // zhongli

SYNOPSIS... how can a god with such a stain on her hand survive the eyes of her beloved. looking away from his own adoring gaze on a woman you could never be brings back the disdain you had tried so very hard to bury in your core. nothing you had ever done was good enough, right zhongli?

CHARACTERS... traveller/aether,, zhongli/morax,, streetward rambler,, guizhong,, cloud retainer/xianyun,,

DISCLAIMERS... angst ,hurt/comfort , sort of desperate love blinded reader, unrequited love female reader , series part III

BARISTA'S INTEL... This persons art style is too die for. Oh my goodness.

TAG LIST... @nightrayseishina , @hiqhkey , @aethscend , @kgogoma , @patchi-chi , @ittosoneandoniwife , @neverlandlostchild , @milkiemei , @seyboo , @lumpywolf , @simpcreator , @rjreins , @chuusposts , @thelonelyarchon , @iiyumiii , @gellitu @almighty-raiden-shogunate , @plusea , @swivi , @juminsamore , @hekkappo , @tanspostsblog , @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos , @binar-es , @loyal-mad-dog , @heeseung-lover686 , @anniejourn , @yelshin , @floffytofu , @yuminako

CAFE TUNE... Where Is My Love // SYML

Your heart aches overwhelmingly, its beat sending out signals that tear you down an inch for inch. The longer you stay in the warmth of embracement from Cloud Retainer the more you fear to turn even your head towards him.

Zhongli whose voice breaks into as he calls for you.

"[Name]..."

"Won't you look at me, old friend?..."

The sound of his melodramatic voice rings across the blooming city. You see the flickers of lights and lanterns, floating into the air as prayers are set and blessings are wished for in the corner of your eye. The world around is stilling to a pause as you nuzzle deeper into Cloud Retainer's chest. Her arms tightened in, wrapping in a way that almost made you break in half. Her own heart is beating rapidly, thumping in pace with yours as you feel her protection rule over your own emotions. It's daunting to sit still, waiting for whatever would snap you out of it.

"[Name]? Where have you been all these years? This, Ms. Xianyun, had this been arranged before? This gathering, had you known? Duànzào?... why." he's whimpering it almost feels like. The closest you've ever seen the great Rex Lapis stumble. His words broke and shifted under the weight of the thick air.

It almost tore your heart how he called your name. Like a beckon, a beg, a sob for you. But the use of a name for the very woman you had confided in for so long, that you hadn't recognized, resounded in your head. The space between your past and their present.

The present you had missed out on for so long.

A sob you'd had hoped to hear from his lips for so very long. The way he kept repeating over his own words unceremoniously, in a mantra.

You.

You had broken him like this.

If you turned around now, could you face him as the man he was to you? The man he was, but now is?... Could you look him in the eye and take in the way your heart shattered in your own mind. The way its pieces couldn't hold together, not even with the strongest binding made by immortals?

Was he even still a god?

His footsteps are nighing, every clink of his boots drawing your racing heart to a deafening stop. It feels like no shield could halt his nearing presence. Your eyes watering in small candescent drips, your cheeks burn and ache as you desperately try to lodge yourself back into the comforting cradle of your friend- no, Xianyun. A name newly bitter on your tongue.

Yet another thing that has changed. While you remain stagnant in your fickle emotions that tore your body down like a potter’s reclaimed porcelain clay.

Over and over your feelings run through you, recycling what could’ve, would’ve, should've, happened.

“Turn around Morax. There is no... There is no Duànzào here, she’s long died in the aftermath of war all those centuries ago."

“And yet I see her ghost haunt me right as I breathe and stand.”

He’s muttering again, his stupid melodic voice sniveling as his cold, so very cold hand, pulls you away gently from your tight hold on Xianyun’s waist.

When had you even found it in you to grapple around her like that? It was as if you were unconscious of even what your own body sought out to seek.

Cloud Retainer’s eyes are darting towards your feeble state, watching ever so reluctantly as she withholds herself from you. Glancing up as your eyes pathetically glance away from her gaze. For you to come so far in your tantrum only to feel the shame crawling up your legs now. The irony was comedic. Almost.

"One hopes that you are able to find the peace you've barren yourself from [Name]"

In a small scoff, she steps back into the shadows cast by Liyue’s ever-glistening moonlight watching keenly as Zhongli’s outstretched hand that’s been placed on your shoulder breathlessly withdraws. In the back of your mind, your fears are endless, but as you turn to face the man you once knew, they silence.

Every gnawing apprehension you had held tied itself down in chains. His marble eyes watching over you in such agony it almost took you back.

The way his lips thinned into each other, pressed firmly as his face hardened and connected with your own eyes. The swaying light that loomed above and cascaded down onto the ground from the lanterns made his eyes almost shine like jewels cast out from ore…

But try as you might, no bewitching sight could take away the scene that laid itself in front of you, Zhongli’s stern look as his eyes, oh his eyes, melted. Pure unadulterated throbbing pain flashing through his milky sunsettia colored eyes. Not a single word spoken and yet, staring into his face for the first time in centuries conveyed words you could never dream of speaking out loud.

It burned to even glance over him, he looked so… Disgusting. Disappointed, disappointed in you. The longer you watched his face flicker in all sorts of turmoils, the harder it became to even face him with a single word. He was angry in a way you had never seen before, anger that flashed in his eyes and yet washed over with want and defeat. His eyes, they told so much and yet so little, what would he say? When he found out you had killed the very beloved woman he trusted by his side?

What would he say, when he learned about you?

The whole of you that you could never share to any god nor man. The disgusting part of you that you had so miserably prayed would have frozen and stoned away in the amber penitentiary you had locked yourself away in.

“Ms. Xianyun, I believe it would only be right if you left us to our duties. It seems there are many things I have left to settle with this dear acquaintance of mine.” If a man as graceful as Zhongli were to ever feel wrath, you supposed this would be it.

His voice is sharp and toned, in a way that was uncharacteristically seething. As he sharply turns away your only barrier from his fury. Adeptal strength carrying Xianyun's body elsewhere from what you could feel.

You need not even look, as you feel the presence of your savior nod and blend skillfully away from the alley.

Sucking in a breath, you’ve steeled your eyes sharply against Zhongli’s.

It’s time you’ve faced your greatest enemy.

…

His boots are sharply stepping towards you. Agonizingly clicking,

One

Two

Three

Steps he takes. Glaring at you, seething through his pursed lips as he backs you into the wall.

While you may be a goddess, in all your might and power, you are still a goddess under Morax the Archon of Geo.

“You. In that great calamity all those years ago, Cloud Retainer had said you had perished amid battle, disappeared in the war. She had pronounced to me, to everyone that you had sacrificed yourself heroically to save the men who called your name and prayed you’d sharpen their blades and brandish their spears-“, he pauses, taking one long, dignified step, caging you finally into the wall as his breath swooned around you.

The air was so dense with tension, you wondered if he had played some all godly trick to hold the air.

His breath is still tantalizing staining you, piercing right through you as his face inches in closer in such clear detail it shocks you to your core.

Each and every breath he inhaled and exhaled, showed a puff of smoke against the clean cool air of the port. If it was Zhongli’s mortal breath or the angry puffs of smoke from an upset Rex Lapis Loong it was hard to tell at this point. It felt almost... Sacrilegious, to speak.

"Imagine my surprise, when I find that the very god these mortals partake in blessing, comes to stand on the very day of the Lantern Rite. Had you really spent all these years alive? The soldiers these people set out their lanterns for, to guide their ways home, was that you?...", he's yet to lay a single hand on you, simply towering over you with his stature, although it feels like you're trapped in a cage.

"Tell me [Name], had you demanded of Cloud Retainer to lie on your behalf?... Why would you leave us in ignorance of you?...."

"What would you like me to say Morax? No, I apologize, Zhongli. Would you like to hear that I had died in battle gracefully and yet have come back to part ways? Or would you instead like to hear of my betrayals, the life I lost in that war? What would please you to hear my dear Zhongli?" your words held such bitterness to him that it almost shook you. Taciturn words laced over your tongue as you spat your disdain at him.

Its no wonder you couldn't ever face the reality of him.

Doesn't it feel childish to you [Name]? Aren't you ashamed? Aren't you ashamed of this act you're putting on?

He's not replying. He's not even moving.

You realize.

You're scared.

Scared out of your mind, falling again into a pit of overwhelming, surging, urge to run away. Your body won't move, you can't run even if you wanted to.

It is before he speaks, that he finally seems to snap out of his own trance, that his cold, so very cold, hand takes to your cheek. Landing softly on the side of your jaw, reeling you in so wretchedly close. His breathing stilling to a slow, shakingly let loose. Even in this state of distraught, he's gorgeous in every way. His hands were warmer now, stroking from your jaw to your cheek pulling you in closer by the minute. Your foreheads touch, as he lowers his gaze from your cheek to your grey eyes, now pooling in a mix of [e/c] the longer he holds you. As he stares, there's some mixed emotion you can't figure out, the closeness of it all, was this purely the effect of a friend?

Is it wrong to hope he means for more?

"I... I miss you."

.

.

.

With every ounce of your being, a strangled cry let loose, this forlorn cacophony not even slaughter could bring.

Your wailing, sobs wrench themself out of your lungs, caged from all those years ago as you refuse to hold him in the moment of your weakness. Haunted by the ghost of you, you that you could never explain to anyone, not Cloud Retainer, not Zhongli, not Streetward Rambler. A dam built up and broken down by the hurt you felt, forgotten and cast aside, only to be torn down by the gentle embrace he hugged you in.

But Zhongli, as godly as he was, had never looked as ethereal as he did now. That same so longing look disappeared as his eyes closed, silence speaking louder, thrumming harder, as he pulled you closer into his arms.

Is this what old friends do? You’d like to ask.

It doesn’t feel like it.

He’s leading you on, trapping you in this cozy little cage he’s made. Pressing you against his chest as the symphony of his heartbeat strums a rhythm so ruthlessly seductive that your sniffling chokes to a stop.

He’s yet to say a word.

But your struggling to say less.

The tears that run down your face stain his garments. Loose wet pools splayed out onto the rough silk embellished coat he wore. But yet he holds you, falling forward into the wall as his heart continues to fiddle its melody.

A century felt like nothing as the man of your qualms held you so adoringly.

So you stand, you stand as you weep, grieving the person you lost. Grieving the woman you were, regretting the man you had given up your life for. So you stand, weeping for the person you trapped away in a prison you designed. As you stand, as you stand a cry, he holds, holds tightly, cradles gently. Pushing against the wall as his hands wrap tenderly around the space of your back. Rubbing up and down, stroking with his thumb as he begins to breath in a deep sigh.

You’ve yet to see his expression, has it changed? Is he… angry? With you?

“How lonely I must have made you feel Duànzào”, his hands stopped. Instead returns to his side as he steps back, looking you in the eye.

It takes every bone you have in your body not to follow his figure forward, wrap yourself back into the solace you’ve newly accustomed too.

“I apologize [Name], for not being the proper pillar you needed.” Now, he bows, deep all the way down as he lifts his head up slightly to return your soaked eyes.

It takes a few minutes to process his apology. Watching as he holds his breath and waits for your permission for him to raise.

Isn’t this what you wanted?

It didn’t feel right, did it?

“Can you fix me?” Your asking, reaching a hand out limply, curling your fingers in as you take in his cheek.

“Can’t you fix me now?”

When he rises, he only looks deeper in anguish. Looking shamefully away as darkened black shadows of people pass by.

Another tear drips, watching as he fails to answer.

“Truthfully… I am not sure. How can I, Rex Lapis, fix another god? When I am imperfect myself.”

“But you aren’t, you aren’t imperfect.” You're gasping out, surprised by his degenerative words.

“Your gorgeous Mor- Zhongli. Your are so beautiful it hurts. It hurts to stand here and beg you to save me when I've cast myself out away by my own accord.” The words you're spewing out don’t sound like yours. They feel like the storytellers, the watchers, the observers.

“Don’t you understand Zhongli?… I am the imperfect one, I am the forsaken god. The flaw in your flawless self.”

What overtakes you now, you're not sure, but it embarrasses you. Stomping down on your every hurt, as the tears stop rushing down your face. Your clothes are stained dark as the cool air breezes over them. Leaving you to shiver in their sharpness. You're asking questions you don't know the answer to, you're begging for an answer that isn't there. You're wishing he'd look at you and say he knows how to fix you when you know the problem and its solution.

When he looks at you now, his eyebrow perks up, the pools that decorated his eyes glowed with sudden sparked curiosity.

“How could you ever be flawed?", he asks. This genuine tone in his voice peeks in confusion as he takes to lifting your chin again. Beckoning you to look up at him, take his glory as those glowing eyes scan over you. Taking in your fault, your flaw, as you're stained in your own tears, shaking under the breezy wind, broken down into something. Something less than a god.

"When Cloud Retainer spoke of your death, she left much vague," he starts, rubbing your face over and over again, soothing your hasty breaths down from your panic.

"Would it be wrong to assume, instead, that you had fled? Had I, Rex Lapis, so horribly failed at being an Archon you could depend on that you had taken to running away from us all?"

"Was I, what you feared?"

If there were tears left to cry, they've fled and left you stranded. Why is it that to explain how it tore you inside out that you, the divine, couldn't sedate the coarse emotions that ran through you, felt like driving a stake down your heart. How could you ever admit that in the face of calamity, in fear you ran from your responsibilities, hiding away from your problems.

Staring now, back into his eyes, your [e/c] felt dull in comparison.

"Would you believe me, if I told you when I fled, I fled from myself?"

"I can't seem to understand... Please, won't you elaborate?" he perks up, raising a questioning brow.

"I loved you. Once."

...

When he looks at her, the memory of her death flashes through his mind like venom. The dripping cold sweat that had run down his face when he had heard from his dear old trusted ally that you had not returned home.

He remembers that somber night after the news of your passing.

"One is sorry that one was not there to save her in time Rex Lapis. If only one had been there under her arms to aid", Cloud Retainer had responded, sitting side by side with him on the peak of Mt. Aozang on the stone-carved stools.

As she poured steaming tea down into his small cup, softly held in his hands, she looked up at the moon. Hot osmanthus tea shined in pearl-like wonder as they both shared a clink of cups in honor of their fallen comrades.

His eyes are welling into tears, his vision of the rabbit moon blurring the longer he stares.

He weeps for her.

"Rex Lapis... She had died valiantly for our sakes. One wishes you to at least feel peace of mind over that", Cloud Retainer nods, shakingly covering her eyes as she adjusts her red rim glasses. Hiding away the shed of a tear behind the disguise of it.

When two gods tinker and drink to their loss, he is left reminded that in the deep dark of the night two had not returned to join their banter.

Where were those to share the memory?

He is reminded that they are no longer there.

...

So when he looks deep into the god he had for so long thought had died, there's a mournful feeling he can't seem to shake away.

When you had died, had he missed you more then he missed Guizhong?

When you had left him so wrongfully that night, had he weeped because he loved you?

"I loved you. Once"

She said, clear as running water, yet as full of desperate anguish as a soldier in their last battle.

Does he love you? Is he the reason you had thought there was no other escape except for death?

He's yet to process his feelings, perplexed and lost. He's swimming in grief so deeply sewn into his wounds that it's almost impossible to grasp that there is love in her.

The timing isn't right. He can't do this here. Not now, he doesn't understand it all.

But her eyes, stare back at him, despairingly grabbing at him, not with her hands, but with her gaze, reeling him in. Pleading at him to understand, but he doesn't. He can't.

It hurts to even look her in the eye.

Can't she see how much she's done to him? The way she's brought an Archon even to her feet.

"When you had left, had you flee because you loved me?",

Did she run away, did she run away from him?

So why did she come home?

"I'm... Not sure. I'm not sure at all Zhongli."

"Would you hate me if it was?"

In him, he fails to find the words to describe it. The scattered emotions left out to dry ever since the Archon War. The bleeding heart and emotional wounds he's never healed from. Scars that litter his body inside and out, because as god, he is cursed to live with them.

While he fails to find the words for the feelings he feels, he also struggles to say anything back. He could never hate her could he. Not when he had been so graciously granted a second chance at her, at them and the memories.

As long as he stares, he fails to pinpoint what he feels for her. He closes his eyes, letting his body soothe. Releasing the tension he hadn't noticed developed in his shoulders. Letting the whole of his body relax.

He steps forward, opening his eyes, grabbing her face.

"I cannot give you an answer when I have yet to fully face what has happened. But if I could be so bold to make a request in your honor," he pauses, watching tenderly as you soften under his clasp. Breathing in hard as your eyes connect again for the longest time.

"Allow me to face you," he leans in, noses touching.

"Allow me to take the you that you have demonstrated to me this fateful night. Show me the you I could not receive, and I will seep it in with my whole being," lips closing in painfully slow,

"Allow me to try and love you my dear [Name]."

He closes his eyes, the last image of you being as your eyes widen in surprise at his closeness, and tenderly places his lips against yours. Grazing his hands ever so gently on your cheeks as he sinks into you, encasing your lips with his own. Soft and warm as he presses you up against the wall, softly stroking your cheek as he blindly collapses against you. Only opening his eyes once more when he's felt that the last of his breath fails to hold.

A tear trickles down your face, and he prays that it'll be the very last one he causes.

"I think [Name], that Rex Lapis was a very unfortunate man to have lost you." He murmurs, stroking away the tear with the flick of his wrist. It flings with a shine.

"May I love you in his place?", he pauses, waiting for you to reply.

Deep down he fears he's lost you already,

His heart spikes as he fears he's crossed boundaries.

Only to suck in a breath as your lips collide once more. Gnawing desperately against his he's tilting his head to take in the sweet chaste kiss you share. Both of you breathing desperately as tears fall between you both, cold in comparison to your shaky warm exchange.

"I love you," He thinks.

AFTERMATH (bonus)

He's got you swept over his lap as he sits on the wooden bench. Gazing out longingly from the pavilion as he waits for the women behind him to seat down beside him. Sighing tiredly as he listens to the last of her prolonged recap.

"One is most surprised that you Zhongli had taken this long to realize she had the utmost adoration for you", Xianyun snickers, sitting down beside him as she too stares sweetly at your resting body. Taking in quickly the way the under bags of your eyes were puffy as well as the way your eyelashes were clumped up in barely noticeable bundles.

He shades his hand over her face away from her teasing look.

"I would have never thought that her distrusting glares and offish behavior had been from her belief that her love was unrequited..." he replies, awkwardly coughing as he shields his gaze conveniently up to the moon.

"Well, it would seem to One that you had never been good at personal affairs. After all, Duànzào had always been the diplomat." she chuckles, pouring from a steaming pot into two solid stone cups. Steam bubbled up in wisps as the aroma of herbs wafted into the air.

"I simply wish that you had not lied to me Ms. Xianyun"

"Oh? And what would the old Rex Lapis have done? Chased after her and corner her into confession? It's almost amusing to consider how you would have tormented the poor women", she chuckles, passing him the warm cup, as she takes her own in two palms.

"Mm... Perhaps it is a blessing in disguise. For us immortals to be reunited after all these years." Blowing on the steam and inhaling the cup awkwardly to the side to avoid your face as your chest rose in every breath.

"Hmph! A blessing indeed."

As the both clink cups the stone reverts the sound. Sharing a sip of the new brew, their eyes glance up at the stunning moon. Intaking the silent night left after the joyful Lantern Rite activities.

As two gods sit in a breathtaking view, after a night of floating lanterns and fireworks shared between the old and new, they share a pot of brew.

Sighing in unison, both look adoringly at the peaceful figure laid adoringly draped upon one of their laps.

As a third god returns home to share the memories.

SPECIAL BREWS...

Loong // chinese word for dragon

Lanterns // one of zhongli's voiceline refers to how in the old days of Liyue during war people would light lanterns as a way for soldiers to find home, because many related the Goddess of the Forge (reader) to good armour when they would light these lanterns they would pray for a safe journey guided by (reader), zhongli assumes she helped guide their paths when presumably dead, this is untrue of course since she was trapped in prison (it was merely good fortune for most)

Diplomat // a reference to part II dialogue, during the old days as zhongli was considered more hard headed, (reader) would be in charge of negotiations, Xianyun references an old convo

BARISTA'S INQUIREMENT... as of 2024 this is now my longest fanfic, i want to give special thanks to everyone who patiently waited over a year for an update and I hope that this series ending fufilled at least some of your guys expectations. i am so proud that my tumblr journey starts and continues with this fanfic <3, thank you guys for reading!

word count. 4,017

tag list !

PREVIOUS // FINAL

©lilimalia... Please do not plagiarize, themes are edited by me, reblogs allowed, do not repost on any other platform!!

banner credits: @DonaldAkron on twitter

[bitchlessdino]

scream your heart out (m)

🔪pairing: fem!reader x seventeen (???) 🔪genre: horror, slasher, smut 🔪tags: DISCLAIMIER!!! MAY NOT SUIT MOST AUDIENCES, Graphic sexual and violent imagery color coded in pink, abrupt changes in text color, features/mentions members (Chan, Seungkwan, Wonwoo, Minghao, Seungcheol, Seokmin, Junhui, Soonyoung, Joshua), established relationships, scream au!seventeen, Hybristophilia, erotophonophilia, homicidophilia, graphic images, mention panic attacks, smoking, mentions disfigurement of faces, severed body parts, knives, guns, threatening phone calls, face masks (horror), knife wielding, blood, gore, death/murder, knife play, bloody handjobs, cum mixing with blood, consensual sex but nonconsensual murder, HONESTLY SOME REALLY FUCKED UP SHIT AND IM SORRY BUT YALL SHOULD BE READING THE WARNINGS, sexual innuendos, kitchen sex, daddy kink, unprotected sex, cream pies, cuck! (??) member, voyeurism, exhibitionism, breeding kink, PLS LET ME KNOW IF IM MISSING ANYTHING PLS 🔪word count: 6.8k 🔪summary: you and your friends get caught up in a classic horror slasher movie, only it's in real life. Now you're off to fend for yourselves in Seungcheol's million dollar home. The question is, did you keep them out, or did you just lock them in? 🔪author note: thank you @multi-kpop-fanfics and @wonwussy for beta reading for me <3. here's some of their notes “I’m scratching my face to not fucking scream” “WELL SHIT BRO WHAT THE FUCK” -Zeta “It definitely does capture that slasher essence” -SJ this was so fun yet mind numbing to write but this is way more extreme than anything I’ve ever written like I lost a lot of sanity writing this. FR one of the most fucked up things I’ve ever written. I hope it was worth it. ENJOY EVERYONE and even tho it came out late HAPPY HALLOWEEN

Ever since the murders over a week ago, everyone in town has been on edge. All including the individuals most closely involved.

You had lost three core members of your eight. 

Joshua, someone you’ve known since grade school who was sliced open from the back before being stabbed 8 times to the point of excessive bleeding. He had just gone out to walk his dog, the poor creature being the only reason they found his body at all. If not for the dog’s bloody paws, and the trail of blood they left behind finding help, Joshua’s cadaver would’ve lost deep in the woods.

And then Chan, your long-time boyfriend, was stabbed fifteen times in the chest. His face was so disfigured from obvious violence and what looked to be burn scars, that he was practically unrecognizable if not for the fact he died in his own home. Police are still looking for his severed arms and legs to this day with no luck.

And finally, Seungkwan, who hadn’t died but lost to the paranoia festering in his blood like a disease. That caused him to take the train to the furthest destination possible to attempt to escape death if at all possible, leaving the rest of you with only the reassuring texts he left in his wake.

All that was left was you, Seokmin, Seungcheol, Minghao, and Wonwoo; the core five.

“Okay, absolutely no one is leaving this house for the time being. Until the psycho is caught behind bars, dead, or whatever the fuck! We’re safe here.”

Seungcheol, the eldest, did just as expected: contacted the rest of you into a personal prison. Luckily, he was loaded. The prison happened to be six thousand square feet of space with countless rooms, amenities, and a housekeeper to boot. From the looks of it, it’s paradise, but it’s definitely a prison.

“Holy shit, you have an indoor basketball court?”

A prison with an indoor basketball court. And a pool apparently.

Seokmin wasted no time to enjoy these features, breaking out of his clothes and cannonballing in his underwear. If you knew any better, Seokmin didn’t even look like he went through any trauma at all. It looked like every other day for him.

“There's a murderer and you’re doing butterfly strokes?” You asked, baffled.

The golden man scoffed, reaching the edge of the pool and resting against it with his forearms. “What am I gonna do? Wallow, crying to my mom, worrying about dying, and not taking advantage of this gorgeous mansion we’re staying in?”

“Thank you, Seokmin,” Seungcheol grinned.

Seokmin winked back at him, “Of course, daddy.”

“How are you both so unserious about all this?”

Wonwoo left a kind hand against your shoulder, looking back at you with warm eyes and a small smile. “They’re grieving. Just in their own way.”

You sighed, crossing your arms. “They’re being ridiculous. We shouldn’t be here. We need to be at the police station or something.”

“You were there when I got the call. The creepy voice said no police or you all die. Remember?”

You shuddered, hands over your sides to relieve your chilled skin. “Of course I do, but we’re sitting ducks here. This isn’t any better. We need protection.”

It was Seungcheol’s turn to scoff then. He strutted in front of you, flaunting his wing span before flexing his arms and then crossing them over his chest. “Well, you have me.”

“And me,” Seokmin joined. “Pure muscle right here.”

“Maybe pure laughing gas, not sure about muscle. We’re actually living in a horror movie right now and you’re all making jokes.”

“Hey,” Wonwoo stroked your head as his soothingly deep voice serenaded you, “Don’t say that. We’ll make it out of here.”

His arms come around you, forearms pressed against your collarbones, and his chin crooked over your shoulder. “You have me too. I would run through that knife before it could get to you.”

You genuinely smile for the first time being there, your hand stroking over his embrace. Wonwoo delicately kissed the temple of your forehead, reminding you what it was like to be constantly adored.

You were grateful for what he had become in your life. Wonwoo had kept you company in your time of need. In the absence of Chan. He had come to your house with whatever he thought you might need, lent you his shoulder that you could cry on, lent his ears so that he could listen, lent his body that you could heal. In more ways than one.

“You’re right. You are.” You turned to face him, wrapping your arms around his body and meeting his eyes framed in specs of hard plastic. “You’re the first person I can sacrifice if we face them head to head.”

He mused at you. “Ooh, now look who’s pulling jokes.”

“Who said I was joking?”

“You two are disgustingly cute,” Minghao commented coming through the back door. “Horror movie rules: they get killed while having sex.”

You punched the new face right in the arm, watching him scurry away to your other friends laughing.

“Not funny, Hao.”

Minghao sneers at you, a jester smile still on his face. “Ease up, princess. Wonwoo, watch your girl.”

“Only because she’s so pretty to look at,” he briefly grinned down at you before directing his attention to Minghao sternly, “but come on. We’re all a little psyched right now. Cool it with the murder talk. Alright?”

Wonwoo pulled you aside into the dining area, ignoring the careless laughter outside. His thumb stroked against your knuckles, lips pressing sweetly against your cheeks. His grin sunk deeper in his cheeks the further he made it past your jaw and then down your neck. He felt your throat vibrate against his lips. “Wonwoo…”

“I can’t have all these guys get you heated like this. That’s my job,” he teased with a rasp.

You slightly pushed him off, your arms swung over his shoulders. “You’re so ridiculous right now.”

“Anything to put that smile on your face.”

His lips reconnected with your neck, nipping at your skin. His humming sent tingles down your spine, and he took your body to press you against the side of the counter. Your hands grasped his baggy shirt, lip close to his ear, fanning your breath against his face. You smiled like a girl in love. Obsessed.  “Daddy…”

“I love it when you call me that,” he mumbled, just as love-struck, if not more. Your giggles brought out the pink on Wonwoo’s ears and cheeks while tightening the groin of his pants. You noticed immediately, cupping it in your palm, and running your finger along the seam. Your eyes skimmed over his taken expression, leaning your full weight into him. “I know there’s something else you really love.”

“Do you now?”

You nodded, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. “But do you really want to do it here? Risk getting caught?”

He leaned into your touch, allowing your fingers to take apart his pants. “Try new things right? Like you always say. Plus you’re scared. Gonna turn that fear into pleasure. Make you feel good, just what my baby deserves.”

“You're so good to me, Daddy,” you moaned.

His hand finds the hem of your shorts, pulling them down to expose yourself to the cold air. He fingered through your panties and slid two digits through your folds. He felt your breath hitch as he squeezed your clit, eliciting your soft whines. “You’re so wet down there, baby.”

“Just waiting for daddy to fuck me where anyone can find us and watch.”

Wonwoo eagerly pulled down his pants, kicking them and yours aside, but not without pocketing your underwear. He lifted you up slightly from the ground, his exposed cock hitting at your hip. “Look what you do to me.”

Your throat went dry at the sight of him, hand aching to wrap your hand around his girth and have him shoved inside you.

He didn’t let you wait a second long, and pushed in slowly inch by inch, burying himself in your pussy until he was nearly balls deep. You grasped his shoulder in a gasp, savoring the fire burning in your stomach. The girth of his cock stretched your molten walls, allowing them to melt all around his cock as he spread your legs. You writhe in his embrace, your limbs closing around his lean and toned build, already blissful from the few seconds of him being inside you.

Wonwoo’s words kissed your lips, flushed your skin, and left a permanent smile on your face. It swelled pride in his chest, better than any physical trophy would have. His hips slowly rolled against yours, letting you adjust to his size. He massaged the flesh of your side through his fingers, mentally reassuring himself you were his and his alone, but his names on your lips became more than proof.

Your hips buckled towards him in heat, matching his pace before the carnal side of him decided to fuck you like an animal. His cock then plunged sharply inside you, and then again, a whimper coming out of your lips. Your hips stuttered the harder he pounded, arching your back, you felt his hand above your ass, pushing you against him.

“Daddy…”

He lost control when it came to you, addicted—religious—the second your body came in contact with his. He loved how your fingers ran through his hair, not caring how his glasses fell off his face in the process. With drool out of the corner of his lips, he could feel the blood rush up to the surface of your skin, making him feel warm at home inside you. Throbbing, he only got harder feeling how perfectly snug you were, pricking his clammy skin with goosebumps as he bottomed out.

“You’re sopping, precious,” he murmured with a sly grin.

He had you begging, flustered, and beautiful. Your hand clasped his face as your other arm looped around his neck, swallowing his lips, anxious and thirsty for his breath. You craved every part of him viscerally. “Cum in me, daddy. Please…”

He scoffed, lips ghosting over yours. “Will you take every bit of daddy’s cum, hmm? Hold my cum inside you.”

You nodded gingerly. “Yes, yes. I promise, daddy. Give it to me please, I want you to spill your cum inside me and make me yours…”

“Hold on to me.”

You obliged, met with the hot stream of his climax, yours quick to follow. He embraced your sides, devouring your lips and muffling your whines. His loads pumped into you in erratic thrusts, fucking his cum back into you and making sure you drained him of every ounce. His fingers dug into your flesh, feeling you just come apart for him, undoing the tension that festered earlier.

But that tension was needed. It was necessary to survive. Everyone let themselves forget the current predicament, basking in the glow of the sunset until dinner time arrived. Despite the housekeeper that supposedly exists, she hadn’t been around since all of you stepped foot in the house, like a ghost presence. Seungcheol scrambled to find her—reminding you of his peculiar obsession with the woman—as he wondered when dinner would be ready since a rise in temperature or a savory scent couldn’t be found in the kitchen.

“That’s strange. She’d be finished with a whole chicken by now,” the homeowner commented, noticeably picking his nails.

“Aww,” Seokmin groaned, “Well, is there anything else to eat?”

“I mean…you can look around.”

You narrowed your eyes at him in disbelief. “This is your house. You don’t know what you have in your own house?”

“You try navigating a five-story home with countless cabinets!”

“Buy a smaller house, you prick!”

“Guys!” Minghao chimed in. “Breathe in…and out. We’ll just find food. Seungcheol, your maid, your house, your search. She’s probably fine.”

Your hands slammed against those pristine marble counters. “We are NOT splitting up right now. This is what the killer wants. She’s probably already dead and we’re fucked.”

Wonwoo came to your side, laying a cool calm over your shoulder, and rubbed your sides. You let yourself melt in his touch, his sweet voice soothing you effectively. 

Seokmin sat up from his stool, “Okay, okay. I will help Seungcheol and you guys stick together.”

“That’s still splitting up!”

“Better than alone.” Seungcheol rebutted. “You guys stay.”

Despite your protests, they went on their search. Your head banged against Wonwoo’s chest, muttering in anguish about how everything was going wrong and that it’d only get worse. Meanwhile, Minghao seemed to regain some of that tension but masked the fear with the bright light of his phone, scrolling through TikTok. You didn’t know what was more annoying, sensation of imminent death possibly behind any door, or the same five songs replaying on Minghao’s feed.

After 15 minutes when they were nowhere to be seen, your patience had run thin. You picked yourself up from Wonwoo’s lap and dusted yourself off. “Fuck this. We’re finding them.”

You felt his hand on your shoulder, a concerned glow in his gaze. “Babe, hey. They’ve got it. Trust them.”

“Wonwoo, you know I can’t do that. Let’s just find them, hmm? Together?”

“Not a bad idea,” Minghao agreed. “Better in groups right? We go together, eliminate us as any potential suspects.”

Your boyfriend sighed, collected your hand, and laced his fingers through yours. “Fine.”

You were all joined together by the hip, making sure you were each other's sights. Through the wider than wingspan hallways, past the ridiculously expensive sculptures, you kept your eyes out for your estranged friends. Silence couldn’t have been more loud in these cavernous spaces, only hearing the gut feelings in your stomachs that’s churned in trepidation. Every step taken was the group closing in on the killer. 

Fortitude meant nothing if the danger was already inside.

Before turning around the corner, Minghao—reluctant to lead the group—crashed into a human-sized obstacle, causing the stumble of your entire party. You all faced a wide-eyed Seungcheol with the missing young housekeeper walking hand in hand with him. Suspicious, but besides the point.

“Holy shit, we said we’d come back!”

“It’s been 20 minutes, Cheol! You guys could’ve been dead for all we know.” You retorted.

“Wait, where’s Seokmin?” Wonwoo asked, noticing he didn’t see him nearby.

“He went ahead. He needed to piss or something and meet up later.”

“You idiot.” Your eyes burned a frustrated rage. “I said don't split up. DON’T SPLIT UP! That’s the number one rule of horror movies. You’re going get us fucking killed. He could be the murderer for all we know.”

Seungcheol scoffed, shaking his head. “Seokmin? No way. He’s the last person to even think to do that.”

“Well, do you see him? No! Probably he’s off someone being Ghostface reject with his stupid little voice modulator and cheap party city costume.”

“I told you—“ Before he could finish, his phone went off in the nick of time. When he pulled it out to saw Seokmin’s caller ID on display and the owner of the device wouldn’t help but smile. “See the bastard is even calling.”

He picked up and put him on speaker, eyeing you cheekily, amped to prove you wrong. “Seok, you little shit. How long does it take to piss, huh? Just say you wanted to take a dump.”

“Oh yeah, I took the shittiest, stinkiest, fattest dump. You could probably smell all the way from the other end of the hall.”

Instead of Seokmin on the other line, all of you were met with the eerie voice that had called you multiple times before. The voice that felt like spiders crawling up your legs. The voice that had you second guess whether you locked the front and the back door. The voice whose owner had killed countless people already. 

Seungcheol held the phone in a vice grip swallowing, fear stilling in his unsteady eyes. “You—Where the fuck is Seokmin, you son of a bitch?”

The morphed voice on the other end laughed, sounding bone chilling as nails against a blackboard. “What’s to say? Why don’t we play a little game to find out?”

“Mother fu—“You grabbed the phone from Seungcheol to answer in his place, cutting the older man off. “Why go through with this?”

“Why, I just want to help you find your beloved friend. All out of the kindness of my heart.”

“If it was all kindness, you could tell us where he is.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Psycho,” Minghao muttered under his breath, eyes wide in shock and fear, as if registering the idea of death for the first time.

“And if we refuse?” Wonwoo interjected.

“Seokmin dies, rock for brains,” Seungcheol gritted.

“Ding, ding, ding. Or should I say, chop, chop, chop, since that’s what'll happen if you get any of my questions wrong.”

You scoffed, coming down the stairs with your friends to follow. “Have at it then, you freak.”

“Hey, hey, play nice. Maybe I’ll get too excited and decide to cut him up early.”

Seungcheol glared at you briefly before taking back the phone, storming down the stairs, and reaching the ground floor. “Ask away, as long as Seokmin is safe.”

“First an easy one. What’s your favorite scary movie, Seungcheol?”

His feet stopped at the end of the couch in his living room, stammering to answer. “What kind of fucking question—uh, The Ring?”

“Don’t lie to your friends, Seungcheol. You know that’s not the answer, that’s just what you say to anyone that asks. Say the real answer.”

“That’s the movie though!” he started to shout, visibly shaking.

“Just say it, Cheol!” Minghao pushed.

“Stop playing around Choi Seungcheol! Just say it,” You joined.

“Fine!” He faced the friends, evidently swallowing his pride as he choked up on his answer. “I never watched a goddamn scary movie! Is that what you want to hear? I get panic attacks every time I hear one in the background, why do you I’m always going off smoking when you guys put one on,” he confessed through his tears.

“Congratulations. Your first right answer. Now was that so hard? Pussy boy?”

“Fuck you,” Seungcheol sputtered, tossing the phone back to you.

“Next question. ‘The Texas Chainsaw Massacre,’ Leatherface is known for wearing a mask when it was in fact several. How many and what were they in the original movie?”

“Who the fuck would know an answer like that?” Minghao croaked in disbelief.

“Three. A ‘Killing Mask’, an ‘Old Lady Mask’ and a ‘Pretty Woman Mask.’” Wonwoo calmly answers, garnering horrified looks all around. “I wanted to be a filmmaker, remember?”

“Correct. Next question. What Was Freddy Krueger's serial killer nickname before he died?”

“It’s on the tip of my tongue,” you said slightly panicked, “Wonwoo?”

“The Springwood slasher.”

“Wow, Another amazingly correct answer. Hold on to that one, Y/n. He’s a keeper. He’s smart and fucks your brains out to the point of you screaming bloody murder? What a catch.”

You didn’t respond, impatience seething on the tip of your tongue, “Just tell us where this is all going.”

“Patience, sweetheart. Last question. What exact kind of knife does Ghostface use in the Stab movies? Here’s a hint: it’s the same one I’m holding in my hand against Seokmin’s throat. (Help me please...)”

“S-Seok.” Seungcheol gasped.

Seokmin’s voice could barely be heard on the other end, weak and afraid, only staggering breaths audible.

“Wonwoo, please,” Seungcheol begged, tears falling past his neck. “He’s our best friend.”

Wonwoo swallowed, gears visibly creaking in his head, “I know he uses a hunting knife, b-but—“

“Oh…” the voice cooed, “Well, that’s just not enough, is it? Seokminnie, say goodbye to your friends (Please, no…).”

“Seokmin!”

“Wait!” You barged, clutching the phone to the point of it almost bending. “A modified Buck 120. I remember now. It’s coming back to me. Now, let Seokmin go!”

The line went dead and in turn, light cast in the evening darkness of the poolside. All your eyes shot back at the change of light, startled at the sight in front of them. Seokmin was seated in a chair, bruises against his sides, bleeding from the splices on his forearms, and duct tape over his mouth. Yet the most frightening part was his closed eyes.

“Seokmin!”

You all rushed towards him, swinging the porch door in a panic. Seungcheol tried slapping him awake, pleading he’d be alive. “Seokmin please, please, wake up…

The poor victim's eyes start to flicker open, mumbling through the adhesive over his lips.

“Buddy,” Seungcheol ripped the duct tape clean off him, his ear coming up to his friend’s lips. “Speak to me…”

Seokmin’s voice came out in croaks, hardly incoherently, all except, “Be…hind…”

Minghao spat up blood, doubled over as Ghostface was revealed right behind him, and fell right into the pool. You and the housekeeper both let out a blood-curdling scream. The masked intruder wiped off the blood using his black rope, anticipating a lunge towards their next victim. 

“Run,” Wonwoo breathed out. 

He took your hand and ran with it. Taking a second to look back, you see Seungcheol and the housekeeper try to escape similarly before she was tugged right back towards the killer and she was stabbed right in front of him five times, each one faster than the last, having the poor Seungcheol paralyzed and fallen on his knees. The sounds of suffering were loud enough to hear throughout the neighborhood.

Wonwoo dragged you back upstairs, his survival instinct telling him to seek haven high and far up the house. 

“You left them there to die,” You proclaimed.

“He said he could manage it. You’re more important.”

“You actually believe that? Ghostface snuck up on Minghao with neither of us looking!”

“We’re going to have to. Secungcheol can handle himself.”

Finally, he finds the room, closing the door behind him and pushing heavy furniture in front of it for more time to stall. “We’ll be ok for a little bit here. Let’s look for weapons.”

He started rummaging through drawers, looking for anything strap, blunt, heavy, anything worth using. He was red in the face, sweat drenching his entire body. The only thing running through his mind was keeping you, the most important person in his life, safe. 

“Wonwoo, I don’t know if we’re going to find anything. Fuck. I’m so scared right now.”

He recognized the panic in your eyes, the bounce in your step, and the quiver in your voice. “Hey, hey, baby. Look at me.” He grasped your face in his hands, wiping your tears away with his thumb. 

“I’m here, hmm.” He kissed your closed eyes. “You’re alright.”

Then your tempered cheeks. “We’ll get through this.”

The tip of your nose. “I love you like hell.” 

Finally your trembling lips. “I’ll keep you alive.”

“Promise?” You managed to breathe out.

“Scouts honor.”

The banging resonated from outside the locked door, only getting louder and closer every passing second as if teasing you to death. You shook in Wonwoo’s embrace, burying your face in his chest. “I don’t want to die here, baby.”

“You won’t. Not with me.” One arm wrapped around your body, and another had his fingers locked around the base of a lamp, tugging it from the outlet. Pitch darkness joined you, only having to rely on the dim-lit sky through the peek of the windows.

Whomever on the other side cracked through the wood of the door, breaking it piece by piece as it fell to the ground, knocking over the dresser that blocked 

“Shit, shit, shit.” Wonwoo pushed you behind him.

Finally, your barrier came down with a final kick, rendering it useless. Wonwoo let out a battle cry, charging at them with the lamp above his head. He swung his weapon while Ghostface swung theirs, both missing simultaneously. Gritting his teeth, Wonwoo pulled forward, aiming for the head.

They crash against the wall in the process, but not without mutilating the midsection of Wonwoo’s stomach. The visually impaired man fell back to the ground, groaning in agony as he clutched his stomach, while blood trickled through his fingers. “Mother fucker...”

Wonwoo’s vision started to fight against him with the loss of his glasses, dimming images before him, and slowly processing the murderous figure trodding before him. Wonwoo’s determination picked him right back up slowly, picking up his lamp once again, trying to take another move toward the perpetrator. And by pure luck, the lamp crashed against the crown of their head.

Ghostface stumbled back, quick to recover but visibly agitated.  Soon enough, they plunged the full length of the knife right into Wonwoo’s gut, sticking it deep and long before kicking him off of it. Wonwoo lands on the hardwood, blood gushing out of him like a public water fountain. “Fuck, fuck!”

“Wonwoo!” You come by his side, clutching at his wound desperately. “No, no, no.”

The sinister figure approached once more, hand creeping against the edge before he pulled it over and off his head. His eyes stared back at you both maniacally. His grin stretched from both ends freakishly before overtaking in deep chuckles. “Happy to see me?”

“…C-Chan?” Wonwoo managed to gasp.

“Hi, bestie.” His signature smile, once warm and inviting, reflected horrifyingly as if out of a film, one with too much bloodshed and betrayal to imagine. “Well, didn’t think you’d see me again, huh?”

“Chan, what the fuck?” You screeched. 

“You’re supposed to be dead.” Wonwoo voiced panic-stricken. “What, how?”

One foot over the other, Chan carried himself with conviction, ease, and the confidence of a man who slaughtered countless amounts of people. 

“You guys don't know how easy it is to fake my death. I was surprised by how incredibly stupid police officers are. Find a body that’s my height, my build, cut off their hands and arms to not get their fingerprints, singe their skin and face to the point of unrecognition, and plant them in your own home. I’m a fucking genius.”

“S-Seungkwan,” Wonwoo wept, his adam’s apple, “You actually—”

“It was beautiful. Masterful.”

“Why?” Wonwoo stammered. “Your best friend—“

“He was an imbecile. Weak. All bark and no bite. You will never understand how good it felt to stick the knife inside him and watch the blood burst off of him like a sprinkler. Like the knife going in and out of him surged power throughout my entire body. So, I kept doing it. And doing it. And doing it. And doing it. And doing it. And doing it. And doing it. AND DOING IT.”

His smile. That violating smile.

You sobbed, covering Wonwoo’s wound with your hands. “Y-you monster.”

“This was all just fun for you?” Wonwoo bared his teeth. “You get your kicks from lying, deceiving, stabbing your friends? You think you’re some Billy Loomis?”

“Of course I have fun. I had lots of fun. We had so much fucking fun.”

“We?” Wonwoo repeated.

“What the fuck do you mean we?” You asked horrified.

Chan started to chuckle to himself, chest heaving exuberantly before he stood completely still. Dreadfully still. 

“Well, I'm not the one that killed Joshua, am I?”

A million guesses ran through Wonwoo’s brain. None made sense the more he thought about it. “Your Stu Macher? Seokmin…Seungcheol…?”

Your eyes turned to him fearful, before it melted into something else, something familiar. Something terrifying. “No…” your lips drew close to his ear. “Me…” 

Your hands squeezed around his wound, gripping, earning his moans of anguish, screaming at you to stop, before you retrieved the knife hidden behind your boot and drove it into his shoulder. Wonwoo let out the loudest scream he could ever muster, feeling the blade sharply cut his nerve whilst pain shot into his chest. He tapped his heel incessantly on the ground, tears streaming from his eyes, looking at you in disbelief, overcome with hurt.

“And he was a good fuck too until the knife I put through his back made him scream like a little bitch.”

You pulled out the knife from him, seeing how the pain he felt in his body only complimented the suffering pooling in his heart, his mind, his soul. His lips quivered in your direction, sucking in his breath. “Y/n…Why?”

You simply shrugged. “Why does anyone kill these days? They’re bored, daddy. Same reason why things can change in the bedroom, to spice things up. The flavor of life is murder now, darling.”

“You’re killing people.”

You drove the knife one more time into his thigh, savoring his scream of agony. “And we’re more alive than we ever have been,” you said, twisting the knife before pulling it out.

You walked toward Chan, helping him pull off his robe. “And so is our sex life.”

“So, Junhui, Soonyoung…Joshua, and even Seungkwan.” Wonwoo asked, catching his breath.

“Every. single. one,” You chuckled. “Draining their cum out of like having a second puberty until life is literally drained out of their bodies. What a bunch of pussy boys. So obsessed with sex, they didn’t see the knife coming their way.”

Your hand reached for the ottoman and pushed Chan there to be seated, underdressed in the black tank top and black jeans he hid underneath with his momentarily abandoned bloody knife at his side. You unbuckled his pants single-handedly, your knife still in your other hand. “And Chan just gets so fucking hard with all the bloodshed. Like a bloodthirsty animal.”

“You just look so fucking sexy with blood on your hands,” Chan moaned, “Touch me how I like it, baby.”

“Mmh, my pleasure.” Your hand used the blood covering it as a morbid form of lube, closing around the girth of his cock to squeeze and lightly stroking it from base to tip, softly thumbing over the small slit on top. 

His stomach flexed, bucking his hips in your direction as he bit down on his bottom lip, beaming like a child on Christmas. Horny for your touch, Chan couldn’t help but squirm in his seat, warning up to your touch. He was absolutely growing at a rapid pace. “Like that baby, like that.”

“That feel good, daddy? You like how the blood is covering your entire cock? Seokmin’s blood, Minghao’s blood, Seungcheol’s blood? Wonwoo’s blood?”

“Fuck. Yes.”

“You two,” Wonwoo’s shock couldn’t stagger from the scene in front of him, unable to process all this information at once.

“You’re massaging our friends into my cock so good, baby.”

“Yeah?” You traced your fingers over the details of his shaft, your nails prodding at the veins as your hand slowly picked up pace. You rolled him in your fist, letting him rut in your defiled hand as he moaned your name like an animal in heat. “I’m getting so wet watching fuck in my hand covered in blood. You’re just a sick lunatic obsessed with killing your friends and fucking my sweet pussy. I love that about you, Daddy.”

“Fuck,” he screamed, hands gripping the ottoman in restraint, brimming with passion, “Wanna mix Wonwoo’s cum you kept inside you with the blood. Sit that sweet pussy on my cock for me, lover.”

You nodded invitingly, not missing a beat. You never did replace the underwear from before, making it easy to remove your shorts and sliding him inside your warm walls, massaging his length as you rolled your hips against his. You held the knife you still had in a death grip, stabling against the reliability of Chan’s shoulders. You mumble his name pleased, arching your back as you grinded down on his lap. “Your cock feels so good covered in blood, daddy.” 

“Your pussy feels even better knowing how much fun you had stabbing Wonwoo for me.”

“Of course, daddy.” You turned to the body mutilated and defenseless on the ground, grinning as Wonwoo was forced to watch. “That look good, Daddy Wonwoo?” Your ass bounced purposely in Chan’s lap, the jiggle showing off the splatter of blood left from the handjob.

Everything in Wonwoo told him to look away but he couldn’t, like a train wreck or a car crash, he couldn’t part with the mess of a situation he was witnessing. He wasn't sure what this meant for him, mentally nor physically.

“You like watching Chan fuck me, Daddy? His bloody dirty cock fucking me like you did a hour ago, fucking me like a nasty little whore.”

He hissed through his teeth, right the strange feeling surging in his pain-stricken body, “Shut…the fuck up.”

You laughed obnoxiously. “You love it. You love being a little cuck, watching other guys fuck my pussy. As if you hadn’t peeped on me and Chan fucking when he wasn’t ‘dead’.”

“It’s not true, you bitch.” The twitch in his trousers told him otherwise.

“You’re such a liar a dirty, dirty liar like I’m a dirty, dirty fucking whore.” You groaned loudly taking Chan’s cock, bouncing against his lap as you felt him pulse around your walls.

“That’s right baby take my cock.” Chan’s hand came over your bare cheeks, striking them with his full palms while his hips jerked up your body. “Taking the murder fueled, hard fucking cock.”

“Daddy, your cock is making me so fucking wet, stretching my pussy the way you sliced open our friends,” You growled.

“Fuck you’re such a little succubus, baby. Bouncing on my cock, coating yourself in blood. And I’ll kill more and more for you. I’ll do anything for you.”

“Yeah,” You began slowing your pace, drinking in his every word. “You’d do anything for me?”

“I’d kill the entire human population for you.”

That left you smiling from ear to ear, the tension coiling in your stomach. Your chest pressed against his, pushing against his thrusts. “Yeah? Would you cum in me, Daddy? Mix our dirty mess inside me. Let me take your cum, daddy.”

“I’ll let you drain me of every drop, my little psychopath.”

“Cum daddy cum, make me full and breed me with our homicidal baby daddy. Make you a real daddy.”

Chan shuddered, overwhelmed with immense arousal. His hips found life of their own, hammering into you at top speed, and watching the pleasure morph on your face and the staccato rhythm of your breath leave your lips, all while the load threatened to burst out of his sack. “I’m cumming, baby, all for you, ah—“ then it exploded inside you. His cum launched out of his cock like a hose, he painted your wall in milky white, turning pink as it seeped out of you.

“I’m so close, daddy…”

Chan threw his head back to catch his breath, hands possessively finding purchases on your hips. “That’s it, baby. cum for daddy.”

“I’m cuming daddy, I’m—“ You gripped your knife, taking Chan’s abandoned one before plunging both in his head. His smile dropped, a small and weak, “baby” leaving his sweet lips before spitting up blood on your chest and he fell limp. 

You didn’t stop, however, given the fact that your orgasm had just arrived the mere second Chan tasted metal in his mouth. Your moans could’ve been mistaken for anguish if not for the smile on your savage face. “I’m cumming all over your cock, Daddy, fuck! You’re so good to me, you do so much for me. I love you so much. Hitting my spot even in death.”

The wave of climax finally started to fade, unlike your smile, wretched and demonic. “Thank you for your sacrifice, Daddy. I’ll miss you so much.” You kissed deceased Chan’s lips, coming down from him, and fixing his pants before fixing his pants before pulling your shorts back on your body.

“Y/n…what the fuck?”

Watching you pull the knives out of Chan’s head, Wonwoo's expression was a mix of confusion and horror, struggling to back away as you approached him calmly, almost serenely.

“Chan has served his purpose,” You answered plainly as if obvious. “It was his time.”

“You did that, all that, with him, and you MURDER HIM? Your partner in sick, sick psychotic crime?”

“I told you spice was necessary, plus I’ve grown rather fond of you.” You bent down to his level, eyes noticeably just a deep pit of disparity. “I couldn’t let him kill you, so I beat him to it. Good thing too, because that was the best orgasm I’ve ever had.”

Wonwoo whimpered under your touch—well, the knife’s touch—as the tip of it dragged over his jaw, drawing out a shudder. “Y-you’re letting me live?”

Your smile. That damned smile. You and Chan were mere reflections of each other. How had he not seen this sick image sooner?

“As long as it's with me, because you love me right? That’s what you said. You’ll always love me and keep me alive. You promised.”

You pressed the blade against his neck, “You’re cold-blooded. Fucking your dead friend’s girlfriend, leaving your other friends to die to save me, and taking on a mass murderer just for me.” Your other hand caressed over his face. “That’s hard fucking core, baby. I love that so much. You really love and want me. Well, I want you just as bad.”

“Like you wanted Chan?”

You scoffed, using the knife to point at the abandoned soulless body on the ground. “Chan was disposable. He was already fucked up in the brain. I can nurture you, let you prove you’re that you’re mine and only mine. Then I’d have no reason to kill you. Not at all…say you’ll be with me forever.”

“…yes, sweetie. O-of course I will.”

You sighed a breath of relief, your harmless hand coming over to stroke over the stray hairs on his head. “That’s my daddy. My one and only. We can be the finals. Together. Only us—”

“Hello! Wonwoo! Y/n!” Miraculously, Seungcheol found their way to you, barely alive it sounds like.

Rage filled your eyes. “Holy fuck how is he still alive,” you mumbled under your breath. “I’ll take care of him.”

You held the knife to your side, standing by the door and away from its open view. “Cheol! In here! We caught the killer!”

Seungcheol managed to find the defaced door, peeking through the rubble to see a disheveled Wonwoo, panting and close to death. “Wonwoo!”

“Cheol…” Wonwoo grunted. 

“Hang in there, buddy. I’ve got you.”

“To…your…right.”

You glared at Wonwoo, betrayal in your eyes before launching yourself at the hero, who hardly had a scratch on their body. Seungcheol, taking his friend's warning in consideration, built up a wall of defense. His eyes caught you just in time and held up your arms, pinning you against a wall. His eyes finally registered on your face, and his grip on you only tightened. “Y/n, you evil little bitch.”

You chuckled tauntingly, struggling against his weight and strength. “Hi, Cheol. I know you always wanted to stick something in me, mind letting me do it first?”

“You—wow, you’re actually mentally deranged.”

“You don’t like that? Maybe my knife through your skull can change your mind.”

He kicked you in the groin, having you plummet to your knees, cusses streaming out of you like a river. “You pussy. Ass. Bitch.”

“Seungcheol,” Wonwoo groaned, painfully cheering him on.

You managed to kick Seungcheol down in your distress, crawling on top of him to gain leverage. “I know you liked to be topped.”

You held the knife, hands wrapped tightly around the handle before striking. Meanwhile, Seungcheol’s hands were wrapped around your wrists, the tip of the knife tickling his nose. Sweat beaded against his forehead, struggling harder than he thought he would as you smiled still.

“This would be a lot sexier if you let me run my knife inside you, baby.”

“Fuck you and your demented punk ass,” he grunted.

“I would if you’d just FUCKING DIE!”

A gunshot follows soon after and the blood gushed from your neck, pouring from both ends and falling lifelessly against Seungcheol, who let out a shrill scream.

“I found a gun,” Seokmin proclaimed weakly from the door before fainting to the ground.

Seungcheol rolled your body off of him, sick to his stomach. “Sick crazy bitch.”

He looked towards his friend who remained helpless his entire journey before his eyes got caught on the dead body he only realized now. “Is that…”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo whispered.

“And they…”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck, dude.”

Seungcheol went around to pick up Seokmin from the ground, grabbing the gun. Meanwhile, Wonwoo’s eyes lingered over your body, in disbelief it was alive a mere second ago, then he saw something strange, causing his eyes to fly open. “Cheol behind you!”

Another gunshot. Right between your eyes and your body that stood for hardly a second longer than it should’ve—of course with the knife still in your hand—fell right back on the ground.

“They always come back,” Wonwoo quoted.

Seungcheol let out a deep exhale, loosening his grip around the gun. “And aim for the head.”

“Sorry about your house.”

“…sorry about your girlfriend.”

“Me too.”

post reading a/n: always like me to insert chan into anything fr. i have no excuses

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @goblinvern @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @smileysuh (felt fucked up not to tag you bc you’re fucked it just like me 💕)

[mallowmaenad]

6'3" Underweight Trans Girl With Eyebags whose wearing an Oversized Black Sweater: I recently remembered all of my past lives. Most of it was spent as various plant life and fungi in the same twenty foot radius in a forest by a rural interstate route until a robin ate the seed containing my soul and flew to another forest where I reincarnated as her child. I would then die a tragic death at a young age to a local fox where I'd live a long life as her kit and eventually die of old age, I then spent several generations as various plant life and fungi in that forest which was eventually destroyed by industry.

I was a tree during that time and my plant fibers were processed to manufacture paper used to make a sticker placed on an orange whose peel was placed in a compost bin, eventually leading me to the dark yet decadent life of a worm until I then eventually expired and awoke as a tomato plant in the care of a kindly older woman, it is that life whose memories I treasure the most.

She was a very skilled and warm woman, and many of my cycles afterwards were spent as my own kin in generations of tomato plants in a blink of an eye. One day she took me into her car in a pot, I remember how she spoke to me. At the time she had named me Reynolds, she had set into a trend of naming me after Hollywood actors she found attractive. It was the day before her daughter's birthday and I was to be her gift, I could not feel bittersweet about this a the time, because I was a tomato plant.

She buckled me into the back seat of a car as if I was a child of her own and drove down a rural interstate route, illuminating the black sea of the night sky with her headlights as the shadows seemed to drown out anything but us. A deer with bone wasting disease stood in the road like a grim reaper, white eyes shining as her aching foot tried to react in time on the break peddle.

The two embraced in a bloody collision, I remember the deer in its last moments weakly nibbling at her flesh as they both bled out in an agony they were ignorant to, I wilted and died in that car along with her and that deer, I do not know what the journey of my soul was like, but my next life was as a patch of semi-feral grass on the side of a similar road caught in the mouth of a possum eating a partially full discarded box of Wendy's fries who was then promptly turned into road kill, when the day was new a burly Appalachian man whose stern demeanor hid a soft heart would legally and cleanly collect the cadaver and break it down, using the remains for a meal some yuppies would find ghastly. This man was my father- or rather my father in this cycle of life.

I know in my heart of hearts that you were that old woman who nurtured me so many times as her beloved tomato plants, you had the rare privilege to live your life as an incinerator at a crematorium, but the march of technology and nut after bolt you grew broken, a death by a thousand cuts, a death by a thousand bodies. Your massive metal cadaver was melted down over time, the raw materials eventually finding itself to a factory that manufactured bullets, a life of darkness in a cardboard prison only to be shunted into a pistol's magazine... your entire existence is interesting, stretching the meaning of what it means to be eaten and to live. The meek 24 year old boy thought nobody would mourn him when he was gone, you lived as an amorphous patch of greenery ahead of his grave stone.

A curious thing would happen during a visit to this boy's grave, his childhood dog either in embarrassing coincidence or a moment of sentience began to dig at where the body was, being wrenched back as it began to desperately sink his teeth into the soil, ripping you asunder. Almost as divine penance, you lived your next life as a member of this dog's litter, you'd be named after the boy, despite being a girl. Maybe the dog was given some precognition and wanted to eat the boy and take his soul into its mouth to get her the life she always wanted. You were unfortunately born with a chronic condition that led you to a young death, the girl's mother crying just as hard after the vet put you down. You were buried lovingly in her back yard where you became a tomato plant, your same mother not being as much of a green thumb as mine but she devoured your fruits all the same, eventually giving birth to another meek boy after growing pregnant during the time when your last tomato was picked off your wilted stem. I have pursued you since that day with my whole body and spirit, one part unintentional one part in this moment of enlightenment. I love you, and I will love you for the rest of forever.

Trans girl who dropped out of high school to make Hello Kitty breakcore who has her girlfriend's dick in her mouth and is high as fuck right now: Waash dat?

Their shared girlfriend sitting across from them playing Wario Land Shake It on her modded Wii U: Was I the deer with bone wasting disease?

6'3" Underweight Trans Girl: ... Yeah...

[killxz]

Valentine's Day 💌

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

a/n: happy valentine's day! i rushed to get this finished by today

You wait, tapping your finger against the wood of the table impatiently. Where was Jason? He was late, again.

"Are you ready to order, ma'am?" The waiter asked you.

"Oh! Uh, sorry, not yet. I'm still waiting for someone," You say to the waiter sheepishly. The waiiter gave you an understanding nod before leaving. You whipped out your phone, beginning to furiously text Jason's phone.

Me: Where are you?

No reply. You sigh, fustrated. You decided to order a drink first while waiting for Jason. You were rightously annoyed. It's not like he was late to every date, but there was a few times he was considerably late. When your drink arrived, you sipped on t, eyes darting across your surroundings to see if Jason would appear. You checked your phone. No reply. You tsked and put your phone facedown on the table. So much for having a sweet valentines day.

As you sipped on your drink, the bitterness of the coffee matched the tinge of disappointment settling in. The ambiance of the cafe seemed to mock the absence of Jason, and the minutes continued to slip away.

You glanced at your phone again, still met with the silent screen. Frustration morphed into a more somber realization that your Valentine's Day plans were unravelling. The warmth of the cafe felt insufficient to dispel the chill of disappointment.

Taking another sip, you debated whether to wait a bit longer or cut your losses. The sounds of conversations around you became a distant hum as you replayed the scenarios in your mind, wondering why Jason hadn't shown up or responded.

The waiter approached once more, this time with a sympathetic smile. "Are you ready to order now, or would you like a few more minutes?" they inquired.

You sighed, "I'll give it a little more time. Thank you."

As you gazed out the cafe window, the city lights twinkling in the evening, you couldn't help but feel a pang of loneliness amidst the Valentine's Day festivities around you.

After waiting for about 30 more minutes, you gave up and gathered up your things, slamming a twenty on the table to pay for your drink and tip the patient, sympathetic waiter.

Just as you gathered your things to leave, the door to the cafe swung open. Startled, you turned to see Jason rushing in, panting. His hair was tousled and he was breathing heavily. The panic on his face was obvious, and he quickly scanned the room until his eyes met yours. He shouted your name.

"Wait, don't go!" he exclaimed, breathless. "I'm sorry I'm late! I really am. There was something going on at work and my phone died-I'm really sorry!" Jason felt scared. He was so scared that you would leave him, like his parents, like Bruce when he died.

With shaking hands, he thrust a boquet of your favourite flowers and a box of Godiva chocolates into your bewildered hands. "I'm...sorry, please don't break up with me." He mumbled.

"Break up with you...? Why-why would I do that?" You were stumped. Sure, you and Jason had been dating for years, but does he rreally think that you would break up with him over this?

"Because...because I was late and made you mad," Jason gave you puppy dog eyes. You chuckled to yourself. For being a big, jacked vigilante, Jason can be a big baby sometimes, and that's what you love about him. He always lets his guard down around you.

"I'm not mad anymore," You assured him, hugging the flowers and chocolates closer to yourself. "You're here now, that's all that matters." You got up on your tiptoes to give him a peck on the cheeks. Shifting the gifts toone hand, you grabbed his hand with your free hand. "Come on, let's go sit."

Jason's hands wrapped around your waist and pulled you towards him, kissing you on the lips. The kiss was long and deep, causing others to stare. When he finally pulled away, he smirked at your red cheeks.

"Happy Valentine's Day."