#unacceptable even so >8|

[magnifiico]

👏 okay, so under the influence of the forbidden magic magnifico just had to dabble in despite his adoring wife telling him not to, he actually has a very hazy memory of all the things he did during that time span

[[disclaimer: this isn't a post about to excuse his actions or claim he's innocent because of that influence—he willingly and in conscious awareness of the possible repercussions of dark magic still decided to use it and should be held accountable. but anyway—]]

he was exceptionally drunk with power (and i use that term very literally here) from the moment he opened the book and started using it. that effect only amplified the more he stole the power of the wishes for himself: each broken wish heightening the magic's control over him until, by the time he was capturing star, he was totally unhinged and barely had any conscious control over his actions

the magic feeds into and intensifies the negative traits he already has: all that narcissism, that hunger for power, that overwhelming arrogance. it has to draw from something, but it still is the reason magnifico goes so completely feral by the end of things

when he's trapped in the mirror, he's himself again—his cognizance is back—but his ability to recollect every little thing he did is foggy (and at first, he still fully believes he was in the right for using the book to begin with; so, yes, still not excused)

[someheartsaretrue]

the work night out was dreadful. it highlighted to me (as if I needed it) that I love love love the people I work directly with every day. with one exception, the people in our locked wee office are wonderful people and my best friends.

but everyone else.

the men at my work are truly disgusting. casually, comfortably disgusting. I was told about inappropriate touching from one particular upper account manager. I was told about derogatory comments about a trans member of staff at the bar we were at made by the ceo. I overheard objectifying comments made by sleazy developers about women in the bar.

truly I am ashamed to share a gender with these cunts. I’ll for sure be raising the inappropriate touching with HR on Monday (with the consent of those it affected, I don’t want to force them into a situation if they’d rather just forget it happened).

it’s highlighted to me just how thin the veil is. get a drink or two down the vast majority of men (in my workplace, but it feels like a relevant generalisation to make) and any semblance of respect and civility towards women and queer people goes right out the window. I fucking hate it here (society)

at least my friends in that room are cool, normal, caring, compassionate and considerate humans, the contrast could not have been more on display. we left immediately after food and we had a better time in the 10 minutes walking in the pissing rain to the train than we’d had in the preceding 2 hours

[shotmrmiller]

I'm your only situationship.

A/N : yall i stayed up til 324 am writing this. I felt like if i went to bed still only having it as a thought and not on 'paper' thats unacceptable. If i gotta think about this then so do yall! it was also supposed to be a small one shot but it got wildly out of hand im not sorry.

18+ MDNI

TW: typical smut, EXPLICIT mmkay im talkin clutch ur pearls explicit.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Simon had finally come home from a grueling 6-month mission. All he wanted was some Kentucky bourbon with you at your favorite seedy bar. 

Once he was home, Simon cleaned up, put on a black clinical mask, and sent a text to you to meet him there. As he finished his first glass of the night, a rather attractive young woman approached him, asking if she could buy him a drink. 

“Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around, lovie?”

“Not at all. This is after all the 21st century. I’m simply asking— wouldn’t want any missus at home getting upset.”

“There’s no one at home for me, lass.”

“Well then, how about you get yourself another glass, my treat, and we’ll see where this night takes us?” 

He slightly nodded —he’d never say no to a free drink— and as she left to order a drink, he took his phone out to text you again.

“C’mon, pet. I’ll cover the tab. Too good f’me, now?”

His phone vibrated a minute later.

“I can’t today, Si.”

“Why not? I know you don’t go out on Sundays.”

As the young woman came back, drinks in hand, he lifted the screen to read your response.

“I’ve got a dick appointment~ It’s been a year and then some and I’m gonna claw at my walls if I don’t get a fix ASAP.”

Simon goes tense— soft blues hardening to a silver and he’s gripping his phone so hard it might crack. He pulls up your contact and calls you within seconds.

“Hiya, Si!” 

“What the fuck is a dick appointment?”

“Oh,” you giggle. “I forget you older folk don’t know ‘bout that. It’s just a one-night fling. No commitments or nothin'.’ Exactly what I need right now.” You don’t tell him that the reason you’ve practically regrown your hymen is that when you’re best friends with Simon, every other male in existence pales in comparison. 

“Anyway Si-, he’s getting here in like an hour-”

“No.” And hangs up. 

The young woman who’s casually rubbing his bicep and shoulder gets practically flung off of him, as he gets up off the bar stool so fast it’s falling back with a loud clang, and he’s yanking his leather jacket on and pulling on his leather gloves so hard they’re about to become fingerless—

“Hey! I thought you didn’t have a girlfriend?!”

One gloved hand gripping the front door, he turns his head slightly to her and says, “Pet, with how good I’m gonna fuck her, she won’t even have to ask to know she’s mine.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You’re standing in the bathroom with your liquid eyeliner in one hand and phone in the other, staring at the ended call screen. ‘Weird,’ you think, then shrug and put the phone down. ‘Maybe the call got dropped.’

You finally complete the look with your false lashes when there’s a very hard knock on your door. You frown as you look at your phone screen. ‘7:14 pm’. You know the guy said at 8 and you’re in one of Simon’s big shirts he always forgets and your hair is still tied up in an oversized pink and white polka dot scrunchie— The pink leopard print booty shorts you’ve got on will suffice. 

The second time there’s a knock it’s even louder. 

“Jesus Christ, I’m coming!” 

You open the door and say, “I’m sorry I took so long, I—”

Simon flies past you, with a rough shoulder bump and you turn to look at him and he’s almost sprinting to the bedroom, slamming the door open—

“Simon, what the fuck? What’re you doin—”

“Where is he?”, he snarls.

“Who?! Are you talking about my date? He’s not getting here til 8! And why’re you slamming doors in my apartment like you pay my rent?!”

You see Simon deflate immediately at the important part of your answer and chooses to ignore the rest as he takes off his jacket and walks to your hall closet to hang it. Closing your door and locking it, you growl out,

“You need to leave. I haven’t even finished getting ready. I promise I’ll—”

“No, pet.”

“Will you quit interrupting me! Simon, I swear—”

“Pet.” 

You’re holding a scream behind your teeth, about to rip the hair out of your scalp when you see Simon take one loop of his mask off from around his ear and then the other. You gape. You’ve seen Simon without his mask— that isn’t the reason you can no longer find your voice. It’s the way he put his gloved middle finger in between his teeth and pulled it off so sensually. You can feel your cheeks and ears radiate heat from just seeing the tip of his pink tongue. Christ, you’re down horrendously.

You open your mouth to say something, anything, to distract yourself from the fact that you’re getting wet over an interaction so chaste when Simon is touching your ass, giving it a hard squeeze, before moving down to the back of your thighs and lifting you up. You startle at the movement and throw your arms around his neck out of habit, hoping he won’t drop you in the move to your bedroom.

He presses you against the wall with his hips, then grabs both of your ankles from behind his lower back and hooks the back of your knees over his forearms. Simon noses your jaw and starts grinding his clothed erection deliciously hard over the definitely wet spot on your shorts and growls out, 

“If you think,” grind “that I’m gonna allow My,” grind “Girl,”  grind—and you whimper in his ear,  “get fucked by some little cock two pump chump,” he gives a forced chuckle, “you must be daft, pet. Or maybe you’re doing it on purpose, eh? Trying to get my attention? Well, you’ve got it now. “ 

He moves his face to hover his lips over yours— you can lightly smell the bourbon he drank earlier— and he whispers, “You ever like this and I’m around, you come to me. And if I’m away, you wait for me like a good girl and when I come back I’ll give this,” he taps your pussy over your shorts, “greedy little cunt all the cock it can take.”

With a shaky breath, you nod before he kisses you, his bourbon-flavored tongue curling against yours, and you’re moaning into it because you’ve wanted this for too long and he’s finally touching you. Curling your fingers into his ash-brown hair, you move your mouth to his neck, to the right of his adam’s apple, took a bit of skin between your teeth and sucked. 

Simon hisses, dips his fingertips into your flesh hard enough to bruise, and all but yanks you off the wall to toss you onto your bed. 

You yelp as you bounce from the force of his throw— you’re still bouncing on the bed when Simon grabs the waistband of your shorts and knickers to pull right off, which you’re grateful for because the grey knickers you got on aren’t what anyone would wear for a first, second nor third impression.

Simon grabs both of the back of your knees with one hand,  goddamn bear paws, you think, before you feel his tongue in between your lips— so warm and wet and fuck, you needed this, needed him— and he flicks his tongue up and down on your clit. He sticks his long middle finger into you and it goes in without resistance, you’re slippery, drooling over his wrist and finger that’s curled up into the rough patch of nerves against your gummy walls, that he’s pressing into, over and over. God you’re about to come, your legs shake in his one-handed hold and you’ve got a white knuckle grip on the forearm you’re sinking your nails into—

Simon pulls away. You were so close, your eyes start watering because he can’t possibly be this mean to you but then you see him shove his tongue in between his middle and ring finger, eating up your nectar when he says, “The first time I’m gonna make you come, it’ll be on my cock. I want to see the frothy white cream you're gonna leave at the base.” 

You’re nodding hysterically at this point, anything for him to make you come, anything for him.  With a twirl of his index, he’s telling you to get on all fours. Scrambling, you turn over and arch your back— resting your head on your forearms— and you feel his calloused palms run down from your spine to your ass cheeks before he gives it a spank. 

“You have a condom?” 

You shake your head and you mewl out, “No, but I’m clean.”

“Good. I don’t want anything between us.”

You arch your back further, pressing your ass further into his hips when you hear his belt buckle clank and zipper open. Simon brings his palm to your other cheek, reddening it. 

“Fuckin’ hell, pet. Look at you spread out for me.” 

You feel warm velvet over steel over your slit before he slowly pushes inside, not all the way but about a little over half of his length, remembering that your g-spot is a little closer to the front. Fast, relatively shallow thrusts hitting your spot with almost clinical precision have you reeling, your orgasm about to break you, mind and body. Hands tightening painfully, you shatter— loud, high-pitched whines, ringing in your ears and pussy pulsing around Simon’s thick girth— and god, Simon doesn’t stop thrusting. He keeps the same smooth rhythm and you’d think he’s unaffected by the tight vice your pussy has him in— but you hear him, low, deep groans and a tighter grip on your hips telling you otherwise. 

He pulls out to bend over your back, completely covering it, and he murmurs in your ear, “I hope you didn’t think we were done. My girl wanted a fuckin’, now she’s gonna get it.” 

He takes off your pink, silly scrunchy and you see it around his tattooed wrist before he grabs your hair into a makeshift ponytail and is leaning back up and forcing your back to arch under his pull. You feel his leg at the height of your hips— propped up, foot flat on the bed and knee bent and the other straight on the floor and all you can think of is how this man is gonna kill you with his cock. 

Simon snaps his hips forward, fist full of hair pulling back,  stretching and filling in one strong thrust, bottoming out. He gives you no reprieve, no time to get used to how fucking deep he is, and sets an intense, firm pace that has you feeling a pinch below the navel every time his hip bones slap against your ass, balls to the clit and you love it. Every pinch in your lower belly has your pussy making a squelching sound and you can’t help yourself— you reach underneath your body to feel how split open you are with two fingers, encasing his cock and feeling the skin drag with them as he pulls out.

That has him hissing air between his teeth, he’s about to come but doesn't want it to be over so he pulls out, and opens your cheeks to spit in your furled hole, before pressing in with the pad of his thumb, and you’re almost screaming. He moves back a bit further to spit in your pussy, not that you need it— you’re drenching the sheets underneath you— and now he’s spearing you with his tongue before curling it, getting your juices pooled on it before coming back up, lips smacking, and he grabs your hair in his ponytail and now he uses his other hand to curls his fingers and palm over the front of your throat and that's all it takes for your vision to darken and arms go limp but he’s again, fucking you through your orgasm and this time you leave a creamy white ring at the base of his length. 

“Oh, fuckin hell.” He groans out and it sounds desperate and you know he’s close.

“Come in me, Simon. Please fill me up, I promise I’ll keep it all in.”

He gives a strained chuckle and says, “Pet, I can barely pull out of a driveway much less this tight little cunt.” He squeezes your throat hard, strands of hair popping out of your scalp and his cock feels massive, the pinch in your stomach feels like a cramp from how deep he is and he lets out a low drawn out moan that lasts 3 thrusts— and then there’s warmth filling you up, so much so it leaks from the sides of where you two are connected. Simon lets go of your hair and you fall face-first onto the bed, exhausted. Defeated. Back properly broken. You officially know what it’s like to get fucked within an inch of your life and you love it. 

He pulls out slowly, with a hiss from both of you and with one hand on your left cheek, he spreads you to look at your stuffed hole.

“Fuck. I love seeing me drip out of you.” 

You’re about to tell him to sod off when the doorbell rings and the both of you stiffen and lock eyes. With a mean snarl, Simon grabs a towel from your bathroom and his mask before stomping his way to answer the door, pink obnoxious scrunchy still on his wrist.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

[honeytonedhottie]

doll hand-book⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🎀

how to feel prettier, some visual interest tips, a beauty handbook and how to glow up without doing something big/extra, little habits and things that u can incorporate into ur life to make u glow up without even thinking about it ✨ (constantly being updated)

double cleansing every morning and night for clean and sparkling skin

BODY GLITTER

exfoliate ur skin weekly (2-3x) 

incorporate pretty words into ur vocabulary 

drinking enough water everyday to be healthy and beautiful 

sweet smelling body butters and body oils to moisturize 

posture is important so sit straight and stand straight 

wear sunscreen on your face and body everyday bcuz spf is important

jewelry to decorate ur body 

carrying lipglosses and hand lotions and perfumes in ur bag for touch ups throughout the day 

meditate, say ur affirmations and journal for a pretty mind 

for journaling, buy a cute journal and journal with scented glitter pens and stickers 

for visual interest 

glitter is very feminine, in makeup, clothing, nails, and on collarbones. when i wear glitter on my skin i feel like a fairy ✨

jewelry makes u glitter (nose studs, stacked necklaces and stacked earrings, rings, belly piercings, and nail gems) 

know what ur undertone is, since i have a warm undertone (gold>silver) 

LONG is the way to go (long nails, lashes, hair, flowy dresses and tops and skirts) 

for the sleek and shiny look (shiny and silky hair, glossy skin and lips) 

glowing up subconsciously

prioritize sleep (sleep 8-10 hours a night)

drink at least 1L of water a day

eat a fruit or veggie with every meal to glow from the inside out

use coconut oil/castor oil on ur lashes and brows every night

facial massage everyday and practice mewing

move your body in a way that feels natural (for example, i go to a school where we have to walk a lot bcuz the campus is big so subconsciously i do LOTS of walking without even thinking of it)

if ur wearing ur hair up/in a protective style, use a hair mask

to look polished and put together

chapped lips are unacceptable, use an overnight lip mask and a hydrating chapstick throughout the day. if u notice ur lips just peeling in general, use an exfoliating scrub/brush ur lips with a toothbrush.

neat hair = a polished look

keep ur nails trimmed, filed, and polished and if u wanna do a little extra get them manicured

address skin concerns so that then you can get glossy skin

make sure all ur metals match and color coordinate

keep it simple

details make a difference

shape ur brows

whiten ur teeth + maintain good oral health

color coordinate

fixing posture

HELPFUL RESOURCES

how to smell dreamy - @flirtygirl-coterie

feminine archetypes - @prissygrlsorority

beauty binder - @prissygrlsorority

maintaining a clean and fresh appearance - by yours truly

makeup tutorial in pics - by yours truly

"your glowing" - by yours truly

general hygiene secrets and tricks - by yours truly

[mourning-again-in-america]

wonder how many times i'm going to see the phrase "mediocre white" in the next week

[repulsiveliquidation]

Hope, Coffee, and Poetry.

cw : smut, angst, mentions of cheating. 18+ DNI.

a/n I hope this lives up to your expectations. I cried when I wrote the last line, I have no idea why. Enjoy. realized I forgot to include the Frida Kahlo quote I used!

“You deserve a lover who takes away the lies and brings you hope, coffee, and poetry.”

Hope.

“Bebita, please!”

“Don’t want to hear it, Alexia,” you tell her, storming out of the restaurant with her trailing behind.

“Baby, wait!”

You turn around quickly, anger seething behind your eyes. She cowers a little, taking a step back from you just as you both stepped out of the restaurant.

“Don’t you dare try to justify what you’ve been doing behind my back, Alexia. I’ve been so stupid to think that you wouldn’t break my heart like that when you promised me you wouldn’t ever do that. You know the pain and turmoil my father did to my mother and you SWORE to me you would never cheat on me and you fucking did!”

“Amor, I’m sorry. I tried to tell you but-”

“But what, Alexia? ‘Oh sorry I couldn’t join you for dinner babe, I’ve got my mistress to fuck at 8 pm tonight, and I can’t reschedule?!’”

You step up to her, most of the girls now joining you two outside. María, Ingrid, Lucy, and Frido look extremely upset with Alexia while Ona, Jana, Pina, and Aitana are by your side rubbing your back and arms.

“You ruined us, Alexia. Don’t ever forget that.”

You wipe your tears off your face, give the girls a curt nod, and walk off towards your car. Opening the door, you hear María yelling her head off at Alexia, fluently cursing at her in Spanish. Alexia has her head hung low when you drive past, sobbing into her hands.

“How could you do something like that to her, Alexia? She was the best thing that ever happened to you and you throw her away for some gold digger you picked up at a bar?!” María lays into her after Alexia desperately tries to explain herself.

“She is not a gold digger!” Alexia yells suddenly, looking straight at María with red eyes and an angry look.

“Did you just defend her? The whore you’ve been sleeping with behind your fucking wife's back?”

Alexia looks at her best friend in shock. The words just came out of her mouth, she wasn’t thinking.

“I didn’t mean-”

“Your wife has been there for you when you were THIS close to giving up football. When your ACL tore, she almost gave her career up to be there for you full-time. When your father died, she was the first one you called; she was as heartbroken as you were, he was the best father figure she had. The two of you were thick as thieves, inseparable since you were children. You knew the kind of shit her father put her and her mother through with him sleeping around and you go and do the one thing she hoped the person she loved wouldn’t do to her!”

Alexia was sobbing hard, shoulders shaking hard with her cries. No one comforted her, somehow that hurt her more than the truths María was yelling at her.

“I am so fucking disappointed in you, I can’t even LOOK at you right now!” María yelled one last time, shoving Ingrid’s hand off her shoulder and walking back into the restaurant.

Ingrid nods at the other girls to go back inside and finish their lunch, wanting a minute with the captain. She pulls Alexia into a tight hug, letting her cry into her neck. She’s shaking, mumbling a million apologies to no one. Ingrid shushes her, cradling her face in her hands.

“What you did was unacceptable. María said some hurtful things but she was not wrong. You’ve made the bed, now you have to lie in it. The girls are going to need some time to forgive you but I think you need to make amends with your wife first.”

Alexia nods her head, thanking Ingrid before rushing off to her car. Her hands shake as she starts the car, thoughts running through her head a million miles an hour. She wonders how she could have been so stupid, so desperate for love that she went out to find it when it was right in front of her the whole time.

You were perfect, the woman of her dreams. When her father died, you ran over to her house barefoot when she called to tell you. You ran into her house and pulled her into your arms, cradling her sobbing form as you tried to be strong for her. He was the father you never had, your own cheated on your mother so often she resented men for a long time and you swore you would never be with someone who was the same way.

When you met Alexia at 4 years old, there was an instant connection. The two of you were attached at the hip, one never seen without the other. Barcelona promoted both of you to the first team at the same time. Having just started dating and having the opportunity to go to work every day with your best friend was a dream come true.

Day by day, the two of you made things work. You two functioned like a well-oiled machine, a connection that ran so deep, that you were sure in other lifetimes you were lovers. The night of her 24th birthday, you surprised her with two tickets to the men’s team game that weekend and a little black velvet box. She immediately knew what it was and you argued, with her groaning about being the one who needed to propose cause she ‘wore the pants in the house’. You glared at her, to which she apologized, said yes, put on the ring, and made love to you all night.

The next morning, after yet another passionate round of steamy morning sex, she pulled out a matching velvet box.

“Here, bebita,” she whispered, handing you the box as you settled into her side. You gasped and opened it carefully, a beautiful diamond ring shimmered in your palm.

“My turn,” she grinned, “Will you make me the happiest woman in the world and marry me?”

“Yes, yes, yes!”

Coffee.

“Bebita!”

Alexia walks into the house in search of you, hoping you’ve come home and she could catch you before you inevitably leave.

What she doesn’t expect is for you to have company over.

“Aitana?” 

You pull away from Aitana’s arms, looking back towards the door to see Alexia standing there. She’s breathing hard, tears streaks on her cheeks.

You stand, a confused Aitana remains seated on the dark couch both you and Alexia picked out when you first moved in.

“Uh, I’ll just leave-”

“No, stay.”

You walk up to Alexia, arms crossed across your chest. Her shoulders sag and her head hangs low once again.

“Can we talk…please?” she looks up at you, eyes filling with tears. Your heart begs to comfort her but you know better not to. You know you’d give in to her, her tears have always been your greatest weakness.

“I messed up, amor. I know that now, but please, we can fix this. I’ve broken it off with her, we can go for couples counseling, I’ll work harder to communicate, I’ll do anything!”

“Alexia, I love you. I think I always will. But I don’t deserve to be someone’s second choice. I deserve someone who can come to me and tell me they’re not happy. Instead, you found someone else to do that for you. You found someone else to do my job for me. I’m sorry Alexia, but we’re done.”

You step closer to her, kissing the corner of her lips. She’s shaking her head, lips begging for you to stop.

“Sign those papers I gave you, I’d like them as soon as you can please.”   

“No, please! Give me a chance, bebé please!”

“I already did, Alexia. I will not do it again.”

You walk into the bedroom and grab the duffel bag you had packed, storming out to where Aitana stood dumbfounded in the living room before taking her hand and leaving the house.

Alexia feels her heart break into pieces. You did already give her a chance at redemption, how could she forget? She thinks back to that day when you were both 21, away at both your international camps.

“Bebé, hi! I’ve missed you!”

Alexia scrambled to answer her phone, pulling the covers over her naked body. She glances over at the clock and notes that it’s time for your regular phone call. You notice her disheveled hair and wonder what she’s been up to, your head cocked to the side with a curious look on your face. You shake your head and focus back on her, feeling your heart ache to be with her.

“I-I’ve missed you too, Amor! What-what are you doing?”

“I’m done with training for the day, silly. Are you already in bed, was Spanish training that hard?” you tease, grinning at her.

“Sí, it went on for hours today!” she says with a nervous laugh when suddenly there was a ruffle in the sheets. Alexia looks at the moving duvet in the corner of her eye, and you see a foot sticking out of the edge of the screen that’s not Alexia’s. She looks back at you and notices, immediately covering it up.

“Are you kidding me?” you say, voice raised in anger.

“Amor, let me explain!”

“There’s nothing to explain Alexia, we’re done! How could you?!”

“Bebita please, this was a mistake!”

It took a year of counseling for the two of you to mend the trust that was broken. Fast forward 2 years and you were walking down the aisle to marry her on the happiest day of your lives. She had kept her promise and the two of you couldn’t have been closer.

Until she broke that promise again.

Poetry.

Aitana was beautiful. She loved you in a way so different from Alexia. In the days after the divorce and the court hearings, Aitana was by your side the entire time. She was gentle and she was kind. She knew you were guarding your heart with an impenetrable fortress, but she tried every day, little by little to gain access to the sweet, caring, loving, unapologetic girl she had quietly been pining over since her days at the academy.

Aitana was the textbook definition of sunshine. She always had a big smile on her face, never letting anything get her down. She was like a pocket rocket, able to pull laughs out of you no one else ever did. She made you feel safe, secure, and loved.

Court proceedings were taking a while and in that time, you two managed to build a new life together. You had known each other a long time and turning that friendship into the most excitingly new love was easier than you thought it would be. You moved in with her, drove to training together, cooked together, and made love every way you could. She was easy to love, but a passionate lover that would move mountains for you. A part of you still loved Alexia, you knew you always would but you felt your heart grow to make space for the new best thing in your life.

“Please Aitana, fuck…”

“You like my mouth on you, princesa?”

“Yes, so fucking much…please!”

Aitana pushes your legs back, lips attached to your core as she eats you out hungrily. She groans into your pussy, eyes boring deep into yours that are filled with tears. Your hands pull on her hair, your head thumping back onto the couch you’re fucking on.

She sits up between your legs, two of her fingers pushed deep into your pussy. She kisses up your calf, free hand caressing your ass.

“Getting close, bebita?” she asks in the most innocent voice, a little smirk across her face.

You look up at her, hands holding your legs back like the good girl you’re being for her. She grins, leaning over to crash her lips to yours. You kiss back ferociously, her fingers pushing in a third that makes your eyes go back into your head.

“Aitana!” you cry out, the tips of her fingers roughly pressed up against your sweet spot. She kissed down the expanse of your neck, lips latched onto your breast when she suddenly bit down and your orgasm hit you like a freight train. You shuddered and squirmed, body convulsing hard as her fingers and palm worked you through an orgasm so hard you saw white and passed out for a second.

“You are not what you seem, baby,” you tell her panting, kissing her slowly as she cradles you in the bath after fucking you into the couch twice more.

“For you, mi amor, I’ll be anything you want.”

Alexia stood outside the courthouse with a soft smile on her face. You walked out behind her, the final hearing of your divorce was now over. You both parted on good terms, leaving nothing but good memories behind. Aitana remained by your side and you spoke to Alexia, knowing that there was nothing but love for each other that would never change.

“She makes you happy. I’m so glad she can give you what I couldn’t,” Alexia started, her expression a little sad and longing.

You lean in and kiss the corner of her lips again, lingering just a few seconds longer than you should.

“I will always love you, Ale. Never, ever forget that.”

“I won’t bebita, you’re very special to me.”

“I’ll see you on Monday at training?”

“Sí,” she waves you two off, smiling wide before saying one last thing but it’s not directed at you.

“Tana?” she calls, Aitana turns around and looks at her captain.

“Sí, capi?”

"Cuida de ella por mí, ¿quieres? Es una buena".

[mayadarlings]

Good things happen to those who wait.

—★! Tags: NSFW, MDNI, AFAB! Slow?? Sex toys, a man way too big, size kink. Fingering.

★- Part 1 here!! Part 2 here!!

You regret missing it. The night GD streamed, you were stuck at work and time was not on your side. Even if you managed to show up, you doubted you could compete with those who had bottomless wallets for donations. By the time you got home, the stream had ended and a lucky winner had claimed their prize, leaving you frustrated at being outdone by someone with more money to spare.

After that, there was a complete lack of communication. No live streams, no new videos. Total silence for five long months. You couldn't help but constantly check his page, refreshing it so frequently that your browser started suggesting it the moment you typed in his name. It was necessary; what if he suddenly returned and started streaming while you weren't paying attention? That would be unacceptable. So you remained his dedicated watcher, eagerly anticipating his return to once again capture your heart and even cause some inevitable arousal.

With no new posts to peruse, you exhausted all of the content already shared on his page. His previous streams and videos became a regular part of your nightly routine – laptop open, legs spread, fingers working their magic as you reached climax again and again. But in just a matter of weeks, this routine grew stale and your fingers failed to satisfy you. You craved something real, something similar to the man who had become your obsession.

On your day off, you made a choice to be daring and try something completely new. Not too far from where you live, there was a sex shop with its bold black exterior and eye-catching logo, "Don't ask, Won't tell." You never thought you'd ever have a reason to step foot inside until today. Trying to remain inconspicuous, you dressed casually in a gray hoodie and shorts, praying that no one from your complex would spot you as you wandered around the small store.

You quickly located the Dildo section in the far corner of the store, it was strategically placed away from prying eyes, giving you the freedom to browse without feeling self-conscious. The selection was overwhelming; there were dildos of all shapes, sizes, and colors that you didn't even know existed. A row of bright and vibrant toys caught your eye, ranging from hot pink to deep purple. Upon closer inspection, you noticed that some were smaller than others and angled differently - some leaning more to the right or left. Curious, you read the label below that simply read "beginners." Were these meant for beginners? You couldn't help but feel a little cocky; surely you could handle more than just beginner-level toys.

Your gaze drifted down to the shelf below, where a collection of dildos labeled as "intermediate" caught your eye. They were all around 5 inches long, a decent size, and you found yourself reaching out to touch a deep blue one that fit perfectly in your palm. But upon closer inspection, it wasn't the right one. It wasn't like his - GD's. You needed something that would remind you of him.

So you moved on to the last row, where the sign in bright red read "Expert". These dildos were flesh-colored and ranged from 6-8 inches in size. They looked almost identical to his. You picked up a realistic-looking one with a caucasian skin tone, measuring at 7 pushing 8 inches. It was thick and veiny, standing tall and proud unlike the ones in the first row. This was the one you wanted - it was as close as you could get to experiencing him.

You approach the cashier, trying your best to avoid making eye contact with her. But her questioning look, as if asking "are you sure about this?", burns your face with embarrassment. The transaction is completed hastily, almost as if the cashier wants you out of the store before it becomes too awkward. You grab the discreet black bag from her hands and make a hasty exit.

You let out a deep sigh as you leave the shop, knowing all that was left to do was walk back to the apartment. It was a simple twenty-minute trek, maybe twenty-five if you got unlucky and had to wait for a red light at the stopwalk. You started on your way, clutching the shopping bag tightly, afraid that passerby's might try to peer inside. As you rounded the corner, a single raindrop landed on your head, followed by more until it was pouring without warning.

The unexpected downpour caught you off guard with little time to react. You were positive that the forecast called for clear skies, so you didn't bother bringing any protection. As droplets of water hit your skin, your eyes dart around in search of shelter. Finally, you spot the bus stop with its small roof offering some relief. With bare ankles splashing through puddles, you hurry towards it.

Taking shelter at the bus stop was a much better option than attempting to walk in this downpour. It was already raining hard enough to make a twenty-minute walk feel like eternity, and you would have been completely soaked if you had attempted it. Now, at least, you could relax a bit, knowing that you were somewhat protected and dry. All you had left to do was wait for the storm to pass. As you take out your phone from your pocket to check the weather app, a sudden shadow looms over you and a large figure squeezes into the small space next to you.

You quickly lifted your gaze from your phone and had to tilt your head back to meet the imposing figure who squeezed into the already cramped area. It was a man, who paid no attention to you whatsoever. He was wearing a black hoodie with the hood pulled tightly over his head and a black surgical mask covering his face except for his piercing brown eyes. Those same eyes locked onto yours as he noticed you staring at him.

Your body tensed up, and you averted your gaze, avoiding looking at him altogether. You couldn't help but think, "Could he be any more intimidating?"

The two of you stood next to each other in utter quietness for what felt like an eternity. He kept his gaze fixed ahead while you found yourself inexplicably fascinated by your own shoes. A sudden, loud splash caught your attention and you looked up just in time to see a group of children running by, gleefully splashing and playing in the puddles.

The combination of mud and water was heading straight towards you, ready to create a messy situation. But before it could hit you, he smoothly stepped in front and took the full force of the splash. He grunted as the liquid hit him, but he shook his head and glanced at the kids who seemed oblivious to the mess they had caused.

You were taken aback by his sudden actions, and you couldn't help but look back and forth between him and the mess on his previously spotless hoodie. The stain was large, surely leaving a big wet spot. "I- I mean, you didn't have to do that." You cursed yourself for saying the wrong thing as he raised an eyebrow. "Damn, that’s not what I meant."

He shakes his head and lets out a low chuckle. " 'S okay."

As soon as he spoke, you froze in place. His voice was unmistakably deep and one that you had heard before. You couldn't help but wonder if you were overreacting. Out of the corner of your eye, you observed him as he attempted to wipe away some moisture on his hoodie with a handkerchief. As far as you could tell, there were no visible tattoos on him.

Apart from that, you couldn't help but sympathize with him. He didn't have to do this at all. It was refreshing to see chivalry still existed, and the least you could do was assist him. "Do you live close by?" you inquire, causing him to pause and turn his gaze towards you.

They say that everything in life is predetermined by fate, and it seems like fate had a plan for you when you asked that seemingly innocent question. Little did you know, your simple act set off a chain reaction of events. He lived far away, but you couldn't let him go on with that stain on his hoodie. So after the rain stopped, you brought him back to your apartment complex and showed him to the laundry room.

“Just give me a moment to grab my detergent. The stuff the landlord gives us is terrible.” You told him, motioning for him to take a seat on the nearby chair, which he did without saying a word. You quickly went up to your apartment and threw the bag on the couch before heading into the bathroom to retrieve the detergent. As you headed back downstairs, the scene in front of you left you speechless.

The man had removed his jacket and tossed it into the laundry, his back tense and facing away from you. He was dressed in a grey t-shirt that revealed his defined forearms. You couldn't help but recognize the tattoos decorating his skin. Could it really be him?

You had to act casual, not let your excitement show. You didn't want to seem like some creep and scare him off like a desperate fool. Taking a deep breath to calm your nerves, you approach him with a gentle smile and present the bottle of detergent. "This will make your hoody spotless and leave it smelling amazing."

He turns his masked face towards you, revealing dirty blonde hair and a weathered complexion. It's not the kind of wear and tear that comes with age, but something else. "You have a staring habit," he says bluntly, catching you off guard. You didn't even realize you were staring at him.

You feel like you're about to jump out of your skin, but you manage to compose yourself. "Sorry," you apologize quietly as you approach the washing machine. You pour in a generous amount of detergent for his jacket and close the lid with a firm click. "The washers here aren't great, so if you want, you can come up to my apartment until it's finished." Normally, you wouldn't invite a total stranger into your home, hell you wouldn't have even let him see which complex you lived in, but your curiosity gets the best of you.

He stands there with his arms crossed, scanning you from head to toe. His intense gaze makes you feel exposed, as if he can see right through you. "I'll only be here until it's finished," he says in a smooth yet cautious tone. After all, you are a stranger. He understands that and so do you.

With a nod, you lead him up to your apartment, locking it behind you once you step in last. He seems to pause, taking it all in, glancing around at every little thing but not touching.

After a brief nod of your head, you guide him up to your apartment and lock the door behind you as soon as you both enter. He takes a moment to survey the space, his eyes scanning every detail but not daring to touch anything. You set your keys down on the kitchen counter while he settles onto the couch, trying to get comfortable. His gaze falls upon the black bag resting nearby, and although he doesn't reach for it, he does lean in closer to see what's inside.

You step out, and he's back to his usual self, sitting motionless as if nothing had happened. You realize you completely forgot about the bag in your hand; it was an easy oversight. Smiling at him, you take a seat in the armchair across from him, but he catches you off guard. "You seem like the last person who would shop at that kind of store."

As he speaks, you feel a pang of confusion and want to confront him about his words. However, your attention is diverted by the black bag you left out in the open. Your face flushes with embarrassment and your jaw drops, but you're unable to utter any words or even come up with an excuse.

His smirk grew as he observed your flustered reaction. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes gave it away. "I was just joking, didn't think it would make you so shy."

You huff and lean back in the chair, feeling defensive. You can't bring yourself to meet his gaze as you say, "I'm not shy. I just…"

"Just?" He teased, casually draping an arm over the couch.

Feeling self-conscious, you defended yourself with a shy tone and blushing cheeks. “It’s perfectly normal to want a change.” you explained.

All he does is hum, but his eyes are fixed on you. Those damn eyes that seem to see right through you. "A little big don't you think?" He nods towards the bag.

You widen your eyes in surprise and finally gather the courage to confront him directly. "That's quite a bold topic to bring up with someone you barely know," you say.

"Coming from the woman who allowed a stranger into her home without even knowing my name, that's rich, love."

Touché.

“So whats your name then?”

“Simon.”

“Mines is y/n”

The two of you began to talk or rather you talked up a storm. As you spoke, he sat there and actually listened. Despite being the one to do most of the talking, he let you vent about work for almost ten solid minutes without interrupting. All he did was nod along, showing that he was truly paying attention.

You asked about his job and he wasn't very forthcoming, only mentioning that he traveled frequently. You ventured to ask his age and discovered he was twenty-eight years old. He didn't seem eager to talk about himself, so you changed the subject out of respect for his privacy.

He wasn't exactly the most exciting person, but he had his moments. Every so often, he'd tell a cheesy dad joke that made you giggle. You loved seeing the sparkle in his eyes whenever he cracked a joke. The two of you were having such a good time together that before you knew it, an hour had passed and you could hear the familiar beep of the washing machine downstairs. "Hold on, I'll grab your hoodie," you say as you get up and step out of the apartment for a moment.

He sat alone, quietly anticipating your return. By chance, the two of you had crossed paths, a coincidence he was grateful for because… he knew who you were. He noticed you struggling to make connections in your mind while he had already recognized you.

He had come across your profile on his streaming platform. You were a new fan, which he could tell based on your activity. How? Your profile picture was of yourself, and you never participated in the chat or donated. This piqued his curiosity about you, but he didn't bother reaching out at the time. However, when he saw you waiting at the bus stop in the same city as him, he took a chance and decided to approach you.

Now he was currently sitting in your apartment while you were busy downstairs. His gaze kept returning to the toy inside the bag, a flimsy and unnecessary item in his opinion. Why would someone like you need a toy? Surely you had a boyfriend, right? He heard your footsteps approaching and quickly turned to watch as you entered the room. "Why the toy?" he asked curiously.

You approached him and handed him his jacket, just cleaned and now carrying a hint of lavender. He brought up the dildo again, but you were feeling more assured this time. "As I said before, I wanted to experiment with something different."

He snorted in disbelief at those words, reaching over and holding up the black bag. "Why would you need this when you have a boyfriend, right? You do have one, don't you?" Simon secretly wished that you didn't have a boyfriend. You were too beautiful to be with someone who couldn't satisfy you.

You feel heat rush to your cheeks as you quickly take the bag from his hand and set it on the ground. "No, I don't have a boyfriend and so what if I have a dildo, what's it to you?”

For the first time, Simon is at a loss for words. He's confused, and even he doesn't understand why he cares so much. What he says next surprises not just you, but himself as well. "I could do better."

How the hell are you supposed to react to that? What would be an appropriate response? Was it meant as a joke, maybe? "Yeah, right, and pigs can fly." You try to rebut with a half-hearted tone, still uncertain of how to handle the situation.

As he sits up, his posture becomes rigid and his gaze locks onto yours. His eyes, a deep brown like icy orbs, possess an inexplicable warmth when focused on you. He takes a moment to assess you, his gaze lingering on your hips before meeting your eyes once more. You can feel the weight of his stare, as if he is trying to read your every thought and emotion. His expression remains stoic but there is an intensity in his eyes that cannot be ignored.

The realization washes over you like a wave, leaving behind a tingling sensation that starts in your toes and travels up your spine. He's serious…actually serious. Your heart races as his intense gaze bores into yours, causing a familiar heat to pool in the pit of your stomach and spread through your body. Your intuition spikes, confirming what your body already knows - there's only one man who can make you feel this way. It's ironic, really, that getting turned on was the only indication that he is the mysterious streamer you've been pining after for so long.

A bead of sweat forms on your forehead as you struggle to maintain a composed exterior, but inside you can't deny the desire that surges through you. Simon practically offered himself on a silver platter, you couldn't let this opportunity slip by. You could feel the tension in the air as he waited for your response. "Prove it then," the words escaped your lips in a rush, betraying your eagerness. But it was too late to take them back now. The anticipation and lust swirling between the two of you was palpable, like electricity in the air. Your pulse quickened as you prepared for what was to come next.

After hearing your confirmation, Simon's eyes darken, their once warm hue turning into a deep and intense shade. He slowly rises from his seat on the couch, his tall frame easily towering over you. Without saying a word, his large hand comes to rest on your hip, gently brushing his thumb in tender circles. His touch brings a sense of warmth that radiates off of him, causing you to tremble slightly. You can feel how gentle he is with you, knowing exactly how to handle you with care and tenderness.

With a firm grip on your waist, he gently guides you onto his lap. His strong thighs support your weight effortlessly, as if you were weightless in his arms. Simon tenderly presses his lips against your neck, his surgical mask now discarded, leaving his warm breath and soft kisses to trail down your neck and over your shoulder. The feeling sends shivers down your spine and causes you to squirm involuntarily, releasing a shaky gasp from your lips.

Desperate to catch a glimpse of his true identity, you strain your neck to see his face, but he squeezes your waist possessively. You felt his warm breath on your neck as he murmured, "You'll get to see if you behave, love." A soft kiss was pressed to the sensitive skin at the nape of your neck, making you whine with need. Despite your curiosity, you couldn't resist the calming effect of his embrace. The need to know his true appearance still lingers, but you trust in his promise and enjoy the moment with him.

His rough hands glide up and down the curves of your body, pressing firmly against your back as he pulls you closer. You can feel his chest rising and falling against you, and you can't ignore the bulge in his pants pressed against your plush ass. Despite the thick fabric of his jeans, you can sense every inch of him. He is just as large and intimidating as you had seen from watching him on screen. Perhaps even too big for you to handle. Simon's hand ventures underneath your hoodie and slips beneath your shirt, his calloused fingers tracing slow circles on your stomach. Though they are rough and coarse, they mold you like soft dough in a baker's hands. You feel like a piece of bread ready to be shaped according to his will.

With a deep sigh of relief, you let your eyes flutter closed, the tension slowly draining from your body. Soft moans escape your lips as his hands work their magic, easing away the stress and bringing a sense of pleasure to every inch of you. Your eyes snap open as one hand ventures underneath the band of your panties and gently strokes between your legs. You can feel the corner of his lips curl up in a confident smirk against the sensitive skin of your neck. "Already so wet," he whispers huskily, making you crave more of his touch.

Simon's fingers glide over your clit, causing it to quiver under his touch. He's exploring, trying to figure out what turns you on. When your body responds with a subtle yearning for more, he applies pressure with his index and middle finger, gently swirling them around your sensitive spot. You inhale sharply, almost unconsciously closing your legs at the sensation of a new hand wandering all over your body.

As Simon's fingers glide over your body, you feel a rush of electricity shoot through you. His touch is tentative at first, exploring the curves and crevices of your skin as if he is mapping out every inch. When he finally reaches your clit, it feels like a firework has been lit inside of you. Heat spreads from the contact point to every nerve ending in your body. You can't help but huff as he presses down with his index and middle finger, creating a slow, tantalizing swirl against your sensitive nub. Your breaths come in quick pants as your body responds to the unfamiliar sensation, arching towards his touch and almost closing up in surprise.

Gently, Simon nudges your thighs apart with his own, a low growl escaping him as he nibbles on your ear, his breath is hot against your skin. “That's a good girl,” he whispers, his voice gruff and full of desire. “Let me take care of you.” His touch is featherlight, teasing and electrifying, making it hard for you to focus on anything else. As one hand wanders up and down your body, the other finds its way to your perky breast, kneading and caressing it gently. Simon is determined to leave no part of you untouched, his actions attacking all of your physical senses at once.

A sharp pinch on your hardened nipple elicits a tiny squeal from you, and he responds by gently kissing your cheek. His lips trail up and down your jawline, providing comfort for your cry. Your slick has already coated his fingers, and it now seeps through not only your shorts but also your panties. He can feel the wet spot on his knee, evidence of your arousal. "Your pretty cunt doesn't get enough attention," he remarks, observing the way you're leaking all over him with a smirk on his face.

He uttered that word, "pretty," in such a raw way that it only made you more aroused. He noticed how wet you were and withdrew his fingers, teasingly waving them in front of your face as you try to catch your breath. "Look at the mess you've made," he says, running his fingers against your lips. You obey and open your mouth, tasting the salty slickness on your tongue.

The vulgarity of his words shot dopamine straight to that lust-filled brain of yours, and you couldn't deny the fluttering arousal that followed. He noticed this and pulled his fingers back from between your legs, holding them up to your face. Your breath came in short gasps as he taunted you with your own slick moisture glistening on his fingertips. "What a mess you made," he said, rubbing his fingers against your lips, encouraging you to open them. You complied eagerly, tasting the tangy saltiness of yourself on your tongue. It only made you want him more.

You suck on his finger, savoring the taste of yourself as your tongue laps at it with eagerness. The taste of yourself lingers on his skin, sweet and intoxicating. Simon's eyes are glued to you, mesmerized by your actions. His pants feel unbearably tight, but he knows he must take things slow and loosen you up before he can have you completely.

“Want me to keep going?” Simon asked in a commanding tone, and when you nodded, he shook his head. "I need words from you, Doll. Tell me what you want."

Your lips feel swollen as you bite down on them, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over you. But you can't forget your current position and the events that led to it. "I want more Simon, please."

Simon grunts and nods, taking his finger out of your mouth and holding onto your hips with both hands. He guides you to lean against his strong chest, positioning you so you can see his face. His rugged appearance, with a fresh stubble brushing against your soft skin, adds to his appeal. A cut on his nose gives him a rougher look, but it only makes him more attractive. He uses his fingers to collect your wetness and spreads it over your clenched opening. Taking advantage of your distraction, Simon slowly inserts his index finger into your tight hole.

He can't help but groan at the incredible tightness he encounters with just one finger. Your walls squeeze and cling onto him as if your life depends on it. It's a good thing he's taking the time to loosen you up, because if his cock were to experience this level of tightness, he'd have you pinned down on the couch in no time, causing your knees to shake uncontrollably.

You flinch at the sudden intrusion, his large index finger feeling almost intrusive as it slowly enters you. It fills you more than your own fingers ever could. Simon tenderly kisses the side of your lips, reassuring you. "It's okay, I've got you…I've got you." He pauses to make sure you're comfortable before continuing. His fingers continue to explore with care, his thumb gently pressing against your sensitive clit to mask any pain with pleasure. A deep moan escapes him as he feels your walls pulsating around him, making his cock throb in anticipation within his boxers. It begs for attention.

You looked up at him, your eyes blinking rapidly as you flinched when he slowly inserted another finger into your tight and slippery opening. It was a bit too much to handle, but you forced yourself to bear it with clenched teeth and an open mouth. Your cheeks were flushed and your skin had goosebumps all over from the stimulation. The pain gradually turned into a hint of pleasure, causing your nipples to harden in response. His two fingers moved in and out at a slow pace, your whimpers of discomfort slowly transformed into moans of pleasure. Simon quickly found a rhythm, picking up speed until there were wet slurping sounds coming from the movement of his fingers inside you.

The intensity of the moment was immeasurable. The sight of you writhing on his lap, your body shuddering and your walls gripping around his fingers, drove him to grunt loudly in response. He could feel his own cock throbbing and pulsing with desperate need as he watched you shatter before him. With deliberate care, he curved his finger and found a sweet spot deep inside you that made your toes curl and your eyes roll back. Taking note of this, Simon altered his rhythm and started moving faster, his fingers thrusting in and out with an almost frantic pace.

But he didn't forget about that special spot, and each time he hit it, it sent waves of ecstasy through your body, leaving you breathless and craving more. You were starved for touch, and Simon could tell by how eagerly you pushed against his hand, your hips seeking out his fingers no matter how deep they delved inside you. He was playing you like a skilled musician, knowing exactly which strings to pluck to elicit the most intense reactions from your body. And despite only having just met him, Simon seemed to have a better understanding of your own body than yourself.

He knows that adding a third finger now would be too much for you to handle. Instead, he expertly curls both fingers inside of you and uses his other hand to pinch and tweak your swollen clit. The pleasure is overwhelming and has you seeing stars and cumming far too soon. Your whole body arches off of him, your legs trembling like leaves in the wind as your orgasm crashes over you uncontrollably. You weren't given any build up or time to prepare, it came on full force and ready. When you come down from your high, he pulls his fingers out of your quivering core, holding you close with one arm while the other shifts you slightly for comfort. His pants are now slick with your release, evidence of your intense climax.

Mindful of your orgasm, he gently lifts you up and places you onto the plush couch. You sit there for a moment, heart racing and breath catching in your chest. Your mind is dizzy with pleasure, trying to process everything that has transpired. Suddenly, a metallic clank and a loud zip interrupt your thoughts, causing you to open one eye and peer up at Simon.

He stands directly in front of you, blocking out the rest of the world with his strong body. As your eyes trail downward, you come face to face with the very same girthy cock that had captivated you on screen. Up close, it was even more daunting and intimidating than before. Thick veins pulsed along its length, the tip glistening with precum from being pressed against his boxer briefs. His heavy balls hung low and full, adding to the overwhelming image before you.

"You didn't think this was over, did you?"

♡! This one is really long but I don't like how I did the sex scene that much. o(TヘTo). Expect more of Simon talking in the next!!

˚ ✦ . Taglist (People who commented): @theirkenfiles @@crazy-phan-girl13 @forgotten-lego-piece

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for demanding a kid's mother compensate me for the expensive protective screen he ruined?

I (24F) used to work in a tutoring center with two classes, my class had around 8 kids, the other class had more because the tutor there is more experienced. I was having trouble managing my time and keeping up with all the classes the kids had. There was this one kid Mike (6M) who is a good kid but slightly mischievous, but I had a lot to say about his mother, I don't like her because she doesn't care. For example, the center closes at 6:30 and she's always like 1 hour late to pick him up, sometimes when I'm in a hurry to leave, I end up having to give him a ride myself because I can't just leave him alone and she doesn't pay me for the extra work. She even started to expect me to give her kid rides whenever she has plans, and never offers to pay. I could've been more strict with her but unfortunately I have social anxiety and have trouble asserting myself, but it's common sense to pay people for these sort of things.

Sometimes she even leaves for a trip OUTSIDE OF THE COUNTRY after she drops him off at the center (for her job- but it's her personal business and she could literally choose a different time or at least arrange for a pickup for her kid??)

Also Mike has two smartphones that he brings with him everyday and is very protective of them. I have no idea if both of them belong to him but that's irrelevant, the point is somehow he's allowed to carry two smartphones at the age of 6, I find it weird. And apparently the mother isn't even aware of it?! (As will be explained later)

It's been a minute so I don't remember what else I didn't like about this mother but there WERE other issues.

Anyway, the center was unofficial and there weren't any real guidelines for me to follow and I was new and very inexperienced so I often went to the other tutor (36F) for advice and copied her teaching style. For the poems and songs the children had to memorize, she suggested I use a recorded audio on my phone to help them with it instead of having to reread the entire thing for them over and over.

So I used this method a lot. At first I used to hold the phone for them and stay near them, but as time went to I started to trust them with my phone as I see how they handle it but I stay close to it. This continued for like a month and nothing happened to my phone. Sometimes when they are done and waiting for their rides I even let them play games on my mobile sometimes and yet nothing happened.

But one time there was a lot of homework so for Mike and another kid on the same grade I played the audio on loop and left the phone next to them, I warned them from messing with it and left to help another kid with her homework.

As I'm busy with this other kid go back to Mike and I find out he peeled the my phone's protective screen on purpose and he was laughing? Yes he's 6 but he knew exactly what he was doing. He often didn't let anyone touch his phones and often checks for damages and goes on rants about how handle a phone.

I went to the other tutor for advice and told me that was unacceptable and the mother should compensate me for it, so I decided to finally assert myself and immediately messaged her to tell her what her kid did and told her the screen costed me over 100$ (which is a lot of money in our currency) and my job was part time so my monthly salary was only about 660$ and it was the only job I had so obviously I couldn't afford it on my own.

She responded by telling me her a 6 year old doesn't understand the value of these things and it was my fault for lending him my mobile. I replied that I only allowed him to borrow my phone because I saw how he treated his two phones and listed several examples of how he handles them and takes good care of them and understands what damages them.

Her only response was: "Who said he has two phones?"

I was so done that was her only argument, but before I could reply she called management to complain about me demanding her money, they promised to resolve the issue and hung up to hear my side of the story.

My boss told me I was very bold to assume the mother would pay me, while the other tutor was on my side, and I learned in a private conversation with my boss that she wasn't a fan the other tutor's teaching methods.

Needless to say, I quit, for many reasons but this was a big factor so AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[emberglowfox]

Transcript of Bisan Owda's Audio Messages

Sent to her Instagram broadcast channel at 8:55 PM -- 9:28 PM UTC+2/PSST // 1:55 PM -- 2:28 PM EST, February 14th, 2024

Message 1 (0:59): Hey guys, um, how are you, hope you are doing well, and hope you're safe, not like us. So… I have just heard that the negotiations, everything… did not, [???], achieve anything, actually, the ceasefire, or anything, and I am so scared. I am so fucking scared. I feel that, you know it's not about death, I'm not so scared of death, I'm so scared of being displaced. I want to go back to my home, and-- I d-- I'm so near, by the way Gaza is so small, but I can't go there because Gaza strip is cut into pieces, and vehicles and tanks are the borders between--

Message 2 (0:59): --these pieces. So I just can't go anywhere inside my, my home, land, my-- my place. And-- it's unacceptable. Even unimaginable. You know, I have never imagined before that one day someone would just grab me from my… um, homeland, from my home, from my place, just pull me away and prevent me to come back. By the way, we don't know if we-- if we could go back, [???], if we could go back again, ever, and… I'm so scared, that they could displace us from Gaza strip to the desert. We will die in the desert because of hunger.

Message 3 (0:49): If they displaced us to Egypt, to the north of Egypt, to Sinai desert, we will just die. We will die. I don't know… why… do you guys are watching without doing anything to end this, just end it, just stop it, stop it, stop it in any price, stop it at any cost, stop it, just stop it for anything. Just stop this. It's a nightmare I can't continue. Just thinking about the displacement more and more-- it's nightmare. And I can't-- I can't keep it-- I can't keep it-- I can't keep alive while thinking of being displaced more and more. [Sniffs, exhales]. I just want to go back to my home.

Message 4 (text): Stop this genocide for the sake of God.

Message 5 (text): Stop this genocide for any cost.

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[feelmyskinonyourskin]

Not A Date

Pairing: Frank Castle x Female Reader

My Masterlist

Summary: You get stood up on a date and Frank decides that's unacceptable and you deserve to be taken out tonight. Except it's absolutely not a date, he swears, despite the fact it has all the makings of a perfect first date.

Warnings: Just all the fluffy goodness of friends to lovers. Some swearing because this is Frank we're talking about. Mild alcohol use. Author's questionable understanding of billiard rules.

AN: My first time writing Mr. Castle. I have a headcanon that Bucky goes to Curtis' veteran group therapy and I think he and Frank would be friends from that so both of those guys make an appearance. Feedback is always appreciated!

WC: 2151

The three flights of stairs up to your apartment leave you feeling winded even on a good day, but the complimentary glass of wine the waitress provided after feeling sorry for you buzzes through your system and couples with the twinge of disappointment, making the trek up to your home a feat akin to climbing Everest.

You fumble with your keys, but the knob on your front door gives way, no longer locked as you left it an hour before.

“If you’re gonna break and enter, at least lock it behind you,” you shout out, closing the front door behind you.

“Not breaking and entering if you give me a key,” a gruff voice answers back as you hang your now discarded jacket on an overcrowded hook in your entryway.

“A decision which I deeply regret,” you reply, entering the living room to find a familiar large man sprawled out on the sofa.

“Better than me breaking your window locks again …” his response cuts off as you enter the room, giving you a glance up and down. His brow furrows at the sight of you, more overdressed than usual, in front of him.

“What are you all dressed up for?” he asks

“I had a date. And it could have been a disaster if it had gone well and I brought him up here only to find my very intimidating and more-than-occasionally bleeding friend on my couch.” You gesture, taking note of the lack of open wounds on Frank’s body.

Finding Frank in your apartment was not an unusual occurrence, though it was always a surprise which state of distress he’d be in - whether he was dropping in for a friendly visit, or bleeding so profusely you weren’t sure the whole of the Red Cross’ supply could replenish him. Thank god, you didn’t also have to deal with stitching him up tonight.

“Okay. Clearly didn’t go well since you’re alone and it’s only 8:30,” he responds, checking his watch.

“Yeah well, he stood me up so…”

“You’re shitting me.” Frank's lips purse and his signature vacant stare glazes across his eyes.

“Nope,” you sigh, flopping down beside him. Your relationship with him so comfortable that you don’t even register the change in his expression, let alone fear it. You nudge your knee against his, attempting to reclaim some personal space from his massive frame currently dominating your tiny New York apartment. Frank does not yield, too focused on the tale of your love-life’s misfortunes.

“What a shithead. What’s his name?”

“Frank, no.” you say sternly.

“I just want to talk to him.”

“Yeah sure, talk to him.” you give air quotes, “Talk to him with your favorite shotgun.”

“Pfft don’t need a gun to let him know what I think. Fists’ll do just fine.”

“Well if the Punisher is suddenly going after scumbags who stand up women on dates instead of your usual criminals, I’m happy to provide a whole list.” you say dryly

Frank swallows thickly, fingers mindlessly plucking at his jeans as fury begins to grow inside him.

“Really? There’s more than one idiot standin’ someone like you up?” he gestures to how well you’ve cleaned up for the evening, letting his gaze linger on the way your outfit clings to your body.

“Apparently a very good majority of men in this city,” you respond with a shrug, trying not to notice the way his intense stare follows you to the kitchen as you stand again. Your fridge is embarrassingly empty and you mentally curse yourself for not doing any food shopping this week as a small gurgle rises in your stomach.

Frank cracks his knuckles and shakes his head and you swear you hear something similar to “assholes” mumbled under his breath.

“You hungry?” you ask “Cause I didn’t eat anything at the restaurant while I waited for that jerk, and now I’m starving. I’m gonna order something if you want?”

“Nah. Don’t order in tonight.” he replies, planting his weighty boots on the area rug and pushing against his thick thighs to stand.

“Frank, I’m starving, why not?”

“Cause we’re going out. You got all dressed up and I’m not gonna let some fucker ruin your night.” he explains, a mischievous spark dancing in his dark eyes.

“I am not letting you take me on a pity date, Frank.” you argue, cringing at the thought

“Not a date. But you’re hungry, I’m hungry. So let’s go somewhere.”

“Fine. Where are we going?” you resign, knowing there is no arguing with him once his mind is made up.

____________________________________

The small windows of the bar are caked in a layer of dust that matches the brown shade of the sticky wood floor Frank leads you across. The chatter from the handful of the evening’s patrons is punctuated by the occasional glass shattering from a barback tossing an empty beer bottle in the trash and the whack of cue poles hitting pool balls in the corner, where you and Frank are currently locked in a heat battle with two of Frank’s “fellow FUBAR veteran group” friends (as he lovingly introduced them.)

Deviating from a normal situation with you two, no one gives a second glance at Frank, worn jacket slung across his large frame and mud-crusted boots not even garnering a raised eyebrow from the several patrons seated at the bar top, all of whom in some way resemble the cast you’d see in b-grade cop show. Your chosen ensemble for your defunct date stands out among the casual crowd, prompting a few glances every once in a while from a passing handsome stranger. Frank does not hesitate to display a particularly harsh scowl, causing them to scuttle away in regret for even looking at you.

Frank’s calloused hands sneak a french fry off your half-eaten plate as you rosin up the cue pole, racking your brain for how you’re going to proceed strategically.

“Kay sweetheart, Curt and Barnes are up a point, so all you need to do is sink the 13 or the 9 and we can beat em’.”

“Angle’s too tight on the 13,” you respond “I think I can make the 9, but I’m not loving how close the 8 ball is.”

“You can do it, we just gotta get you lined up right. Here…” Frank ambles over to you, carefully bracketing his arms around you and guiding your hands into position. His broad chest barely sweeps against your back as he leans over you, sending an icy shudder down your spine. Usually so steady and precise, you swear you see his hands tremble for a moment as they rest on top of yours, lining up your shot with his military-trained eye for accuracy.

His breath is hot on your neck as he mumbles “All you” into your ear and takes a step back, the nearness of his body to yours stringing tension in thick spider-webbed threads between you.

“Kay, 9 ball. Right corner pocket,” you announce, throat suddenly feeling dry. You take a deep breath, over compensating for your current shortness on air, before pulling your elbow back and releasing.

A sharp crack rings out as the cue makes direct contact with its mark. The 9 ball wizzes across the green velvet, narrowly avoiding the 8, before sinking cleanly into the intended target. You jump up with a “whoop!” as Frank wraps his strong arms around you in celebration.

“Atta girl!” he cheers and you’re buzzing, though whether it’s the joy of victory or the way Frank is currently enveloping you and your senses, you can’t say.

Bucky and Curtis groan in frustration. As Bucky steps up to rerack the game, Curtis speaks up.

“You know you surprised me. The way Frank’s always describing you, had me thinking you’d be more demure and shy. You’re really more than he gives you credit for.”

“You talk about me at group?” you whip around to Frank, who stepped toward the back wall to take a swig of his beer.

“Mighta mentioned you in passing.” he shrugs, fiddling with the label of the bottle.

“Can’t get him to shut up about you.” Curtis replies

“C’mon Curt!” Frank rolls his eyes

“What else does he say about me?” you turn back to Curtis and a broad grin spreads across his face.

“Reracked and ready for round 2.” Bucky announces

“Barnes has an unfair advantage with that roboarm.” Frank complains, hoping to deviate the current subject away.

“I think Curtis and I are at a disadvantage going up against two of the best sharpshooters the country’s ever known,” you argue back, Frank’s attempt at changing the subject nearly working to take your mind off Curtis’ comments.

“Yeah well, only one of us isn’t a hundred.” Frank steps forward to take his shot and Curtis uses it to his advantage, leaning in to speak only in your ear.

“He says you’re the first thing that makes him feel good about himself since Maria and the kids died. Like he’s got a purpose for himself instead of just existing to be the Punisher. Those of us in the profession like to call that hope.”

Heat rises in your cheeks as Curtis steps away to go order another round at the bar, his words lingering in your mind as you glance over to Frank. His dark eyes meet yours, then he clears his throat, and quickly turns his attention to Bucky, who is circling the pool table with deep concentration. You swear you see a dopey smile growing on his face as he looks at the floor, avoiding your gaze.

____________________________________

The wind is loud in your ears as Frank’s motorcycle weaves and zips through the New York streets. You grip tightly to his back and breath in the hints of his woody aftershave mixed with the remnants of gunpowder still engrained in the fibers of his jacket. The Brooklyn Bridge looms large above as you cross over it, making your way back towards your apartment.

“Tonight was fun, Castle. You bring all your first dates to such a romantic spot?” you ask as you and Frank stroll down the sidewalk, stretching out the steps it takes to walk from his bike, which he parked an entire block away in a not-so-subtle act of extending the evening, to your front door.

“Told you sweetheart, that wasn’t a date. And no, I got a little more class than that,” His hands shoved in his pockets as the crisp evening air stings against a still healing bruise on his left cheek bone.

“So where do you usually take your first dates?” you ask

“Italian. There was a little place in Hell Kitchen that I used to take Maria to, but it’s been closed for years now. Gotta find a new spot.”

Frank has never shyed away from bringing up his family with you. You love that he feels comfortable enough with you to do that and he’s made it clear one of the reasons he keeps you around is because you don’t “get all weird” around him when it does come up.

“Well this is my building.” you say with a nod of your head towards the front door. He knows that and you know he knows that, but still you weren’t quite sure what to say as the evening is clearly coming to it’s end.

Deep, dark eyes meet yours and you both stare for a moment, before he cups your jaw and draws your face close to his. His lips are soft, even hesitant as they meet yours gently. He doesn’t linger, but pulls away just enough to give you the choice about what happens next.

“You kissed me,” you comment, lips still hovering inches from his as a giddy smile tugs at the corners of your mouth.

“Yeah, that’s what you do at the end of a date when it goes well. Know I’ve been outta practice for a while now, but didn’t think that part changed much.” The boyish charm you know hides behind such an intimidating man now appearing behind his soft stare and lopsided grin.

“I thought this wasn’t a date.”

“Shit. I did say that, didn’t I?”

“I like Italian.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” you respond nodding your head “So take me for Italian. On an actual date. And if it goes well, kiss me again.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.” you confirm with another soft peck on his lips.

And for many years later, the number one argument in your relationship is which evening actually counted as your first date and which day your anniversary actually is. Frank lets you win that argument every time though. As embarrassed as he is when you tell people your first date was at a “seedy, Brooklyn dive bar no rational girl would’ve called him back after” (instead of the very romantic Italian spot he picked the next night,) it meant that you were his and that’s all that mattered.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Garden of Secrets [15] - Aster

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Thanks so much to @theskytraveler​ for helping me with the chapter!

Summary: Trust works both ways.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of sex, slow burn.

Word Count: 4500

Series Masterlist

Your wedding day had been so stressful that soon after going to bed -in your own room- you fell asleep much faster than you usually would. And contrary to other times, for once you didn’t wake up in the middle of the night, plagued by your nightmares.

You were incredibly comfortable under the soft warm covers, so when the rather loud knock on the door pulled you out of the pleasant haze of sleep you couldn’t help the groan leaving your lips, burying your face deeper into the pillow.

Maybe if you didn’t make any noise, whoever it was would go away.

“Y/N?” Benedict’s voice reached inside, making your eyes snap open.

Or maybe not.

“Yes?” you called out, your voice still drowsy and Benedict let out a breath.

“Can you open the door please?”

You blinked a couple of times and sat up in bed, then pushed the covers off of you and walked to the door to unlock it before opening it.

…Alright, this was just not fair to the rest of you mortals on this green earth.

Benedict looked so handsome even at this very early hour of the morning that you could only gawk at him for a moment. Perhaps it was because this was the first time you were seeing him in his home attire, perhaps it was his slightly messy hair that made you want to run your fingers through just to see if it was as soft as it looked or perhaps it was his blue eyes that gleamed even with the sunlight coming from the window.

Unlike his formal attire, he wasn’t wearing a waistcoat or a jacket, just a white shirt that showed off his muscular chest and black pants. There was a tiny spot of blue over the collar of the sinful shirt -you had decided to refer to it as such from this moment on- which made you think he had been painting, that would explain the lack of formal clothes.

Your eyes raked over his broad chest, trailing up to his neck and you forced yourself to meet his gaze, ignoring the skip on your heart, half fearing he would be aware of your hungry gaze but apparently you had nothing to worry. Benedict looked almost in a daze, his eyes focused on you but you knew for a fact that you did not look nearly as good as him especially first thing in the morning. Your hair was a mess, you had fallen asleep in your under shift last night and sleep was still clinging to your eyes.

“Good morning,” you remembered to say and that was enough to make him snap out of it.

“Hello,” he said. “Sorry if I disturbed you, I just…wanted to make sure you were alright.”

You frowned slightly as you rubbed at your eye with the back of your hand, barely aware of the petulant pout on your lips, making him smile softly.

“I usually don’t wake up before 8 o’clock,” you rasped out and cleared your throat. “I wasn’t aware you woke up earlier, no one told me. It wasn’t my intention to be rude.”

Benedict shook his head.

“No no,” he said. “Please don’t worry about it, I don’t wake up before that either. It’s just that um—it’s twelve o’clock?”

You dropped your hand, staring up at him. “No it’s not.”

Benedict repressed a smile and nodded at the huge clock on your wall, and you followed his line of sight, looking over your shoulder to see that it was, in fact, twelve o’clock.

“What on earth?” you mumbled and Benedict let out a small chuckle.

“Long night?”

“How did I sleep until noon?”

“Well you did pass out yesterday,” he pointed out. “So I’d say it was a tiring day.”

You shook your head.

“This is still unacceptable,” you said. “I’ll be downstairs shortly—”

“Oh no no,” Benedict cut you off. “Get your rest, please. I only wanted to check on you because the maids said they knocked on your door but there was no answer so…you know, I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“I didn’t even hear anyone knocking,” you murmured and he smiled softly.

“It’s alright,” he said. “Like I said, I only wanted to check before I changed and left.”

Your head shot up. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah because I…” his eyes searched your face. “Did you not want me to?”

“Oh no, that’s not what I meant,” you said, shaking your head and Benedict motioned between you.

“Because I can stay—”

“No I’m sure you’re busy—”

“Or I can change plans and we could just go—”

“It’s absolutely fine,” you cut him off. “I was just curious. And I should probably talk with the housekeeper, you know? Even if I’ve made quite the first impression I’m guessing.”

Benedict shot you that crooked grin of his. “There are worse first impressions to be made, I’m sure.”

You clicked your tongue. “We’ll see about that,” you said. “I mean I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’m not exactly…a warm person.”

Benedict pulled his brows together, an exaggerated look of disbelief etched in his features.

“You? Not a warm person?” he asked. “Here I thought you were the nicest lady in the ton.”

You scoffed a laugh and scrunched up your nose, shaking your head. A silence fell upon you and Benedict cleared his throat, pointing at his own room with his thumb.

“I’d better…”

“Right,” you said quickly. “Sure.”

He shot you a tight lipped smile and approached his room but before he could open it, you had already stepped out of yours.

“But um—” the words left your mouth before you could stop them or had any idea what would follow them for that matter. You looked up at the high ceiling, trying to recall what your aunt would tell your uncle whenever he would leave for the day, then took a deep breath as you remembered it, your eyes finding his again;

“Are you going to be home for dinner?”

A soft light appeared in his eyes and he smiled before nodding fervently.

“Yeah, absolutely.”

“Alright,” you said and he blinked a couple of times as if he was trying to find what to ask back.

“And do you want anything from…” he started in a haste and paused to think for a second. “From the gentlemen’s club?”

You pulled your brows together and tilted your head to the left in confusion while Benedict grimaced, closing his eyes as if he was annoyed at himself before opening them again.

“Because that’s where I’m going,” he explained. “To meet Anthony and Colin.”

You huhed. “I don’t really know what people do there.”

“Not much to be honest,” he said and shrugged his shoulders. “I can bring you a cigar?”

You stopped the laughter threatening to leave your lips and pursed them.

“No thank you,” you said. “I don’t like the smell of cigars. I appreciate the offer though.”

“Anytime,” he said with a grin and you went back into your room to close the door behind you. You were painfully aware of the smile curling your lips but you shook your head and put your hands on your hips, looking around the room.

“Alright then,” you muttered to yourself. “Let’s see.”

                                               *

Mrs. Alton, your new housekeeper was a woman of few words with a solemn look on her face but a couple of minutes into a conversation with her you could already tell she was going to be very helpful to you. As she gave you a tour of the house with Paula following you, she answered any and every question you asked and you made multiple mental notes so that you could ask your aunt later on. You weren’t raised in the ton which meant you weren’t exactly educated in all parts of running a household but now you were going to have to learn.

You were just about to be finished as you passed through the last room on the other side of the hall but one glance inside was enough to make you stop in your tracks.

“That’s the room Mr. Bridgerton chose as his art studio ma’am,” Mrs. Alton said and you nibbled on your lip. The room itself was so Benedict that you could’ve said it was his art studio without even so much as a hesitation. It was well lit with direct sunshine and a wonderful view of the garden and the greenhouse, and his sketches and paints were scattered around the room along with a couple of canvases on wooden easels. The sofa across from the fireplace looked so comfortable and on the coffee table there were some books, no doubt on art.  

“Oh,” you said, trying to decide whether to walk in or not but since Benedict wasn’t here and you had already sneaked around in his own house to take a look at his art, you decided a second time would be simply disrespectful.

At least where the staff could see.

You cleared your throat. “So garden next?”

“Yes, Mrs. Bridgerton.”

“Oh I think I can find my way to the garden,” you told her and Paula and smiled, “Please, don’t let me keep you from your day.”

“Of course ma’am,” they both curtsied and you walked past them to make your way downstairs, then left the house to step into the huge backyard.

The green garden full of colorful flowers was so beautiful and the water fountain made it look as if the garden itself was enchanted. You could imagine yourself sitting in the gazebo or spending hours in the greenhouse, and you still couldn’t believe this whole place was yours—

Benedict’s.

It was Benedict’s, not yours.

And you were going to stay away from that greenhouse and not spend much time in the most beautiful garden you had ever seen. Even though it was like someone had pulled it out of your dreams, you still couldn’t risk spending hours in it just to see it getting torn apart again.

You swallowed thickly and approached the gardener who was busy with one of the flower beds, but he jumped on his feet as soon as he saw you there.

“Good afternoon,” you said warmly. “Mr. Binsted if I remember correct?”

“You do Mrs. Bridgerton,” he bowed. “Good afternoon.”

“How are you, Mr. Binsted?”

“I’m well,” he said. “It’s a beautiful sunny day. How about you?”

“I’m alright,” you said. “I simply wanted to admire the garden up close, it is a masterpiece. And it is all your doing, without any help at all?”

“You flatter me ma’am,” he said with a proud smile. “It is. Thank you for letting me continue working here.”

“I should be thanking you for accepting to continue working here after your former employers moved,” you said. “I was actually wondering if I could ask something of you if that is quite alright?”

“Of course, Mrs. Bridgerton.”

“It caught my attention that although you have so many beautiful flowers here, there are no peonies,” you said. “And it’s my best friend’s favorite flower, so would it be possible to plant them as well?”

“Peonies?” he asked and nodded. “Absolutely.”

“And we can plant them over there, right next to irises,” you said. “If we do it in two weeks, by the time peonies start to open, irises will be fading so it’ll overlap with each other. And around them we could use sweet woodruff as the base, it’ll be the natural mulch and keep the soil moist so that peonies can bloom better.”

He tilted his head. “You know about flowers.”

Your head shot up and you shifted your weight.

“Just…just a little,” you muttered and cleared your throat. “And in a month perhaps we can also plant some lavenders over there, when the weather allows.”

“Of course Mrs. Bridgerton. I’ll plant the peonies tomorrow.”

“I appreciate it,” you said with a smile and he motioned at the greenhouse.

“Would you like me to change anything there as well?”

You looked over your shoulder to see the greenhouse better, your heart skipping a beat. Even in your dreams you would find it hard to believe that you could ever have a greenhouse, and the mere thought of the possibility of having it would make you smile in excitement but now…

You bit inside your cheek, that burning in your throat coming back as you felt the longing fill you, but you took a deep breath and shook your head.

“I’m not really good with greenhouses I’m afraid, I will leave that to your expertise,” you said. “Have a lovely day.”

“You too, Mrs. Bridgerton.”

You walked away from him back into the house, biting at your tongue and as soon as you stepped inside, Paula walked to you.

“A footman just brought a letter for you, ma’am.”

“Oh thank you,” you said and took the envelope from her, then opened it. Apparently Lady Bridgerton was inviting you for a stroll in the park with the rest of the family and you thought for a moment, then turned to Paula.

“Is the footman still here?”

“Yes, he’s waiting to deliver your reply.”

You nodded slowly and folded the paper to put it back into the envelope.

“Would you please tell him to tell Lady Bridgerton I will be there?” you asked. “I just need to visit my sister first.”

                                                    *

When the carriage stopped in front of Josie and Andrew’s house, you stepped out and approached the marble stairs to climb them. After reaching the door, you knocked on it and waited until the butler opened it. He let you in but before he could send a maid to the drawing room or announce your name, a very familiar giggle reached your ears and you turned your head to see Andrew running into the hallway, his arms outstretched so that he could carry Teddy up in the air who swung his legs back and forth, his laughter echoing over the walls.

“Teddy?”

They both turned to you and Teddy gasped. “Y/N! You’re here!”

“I didn’t know you were coming!” Andrew said as he put Teddy down so that he could rush to hug your legs. You crouched down and hugged him tight, pressing a kiss on top of his head.

“What are you doing here?”

“We’re playing a game, Andrew is the ship and I’m steering him to find Bess and Josie, they’re hiding!”

“Did I hear—?” Bess stepped into the hallway and her jaw dropped. “Aw Y/N is here! Welcome!”

“Hello little Clover,” Andrew said and pressed a kiss on your cheek, making you smile. “Jo didn’t tell us you were coming.”

“She didn’t know either,” you said and hoisted Teddy up so that he could hug you like a koala. Andrew tilted his head.

“Aren’t you supposed to uh…”

“What?”

Bess stole a look at Teddy before clearing her throat. “Enjoying the day after your wedding?”

“Does this mean I won—Clover?” Josie said as she entered the hallway as well. “What are you doing here?”

You pulled your brows together. “What, I can’t come to visit now that I’m married?”

“No one is saying that!” Bess said quickly and linked her arm with Josie’s to squeeze at her hand. “We’re always happy to see you.”

You winked at her. “You’re the only person who treats me well in this house.”

“Hey!” Josie and Andrew both protested at the same time and you tickled Teddy’s sides, making him giggle.

“Did you miss me?”

“Yes!” he said. “But Auntie said you’d probably be busy today.”

You hummed. “Change of plans,” you said. “I figured we could all go to the park, how does that sound?”

“Yes please!” Teddy said and you kissed his cheek, then put him down. He approached Josie while Andrew rested his arm on Bess’s shoulder, watching you with raised brows.

“Oh I have a lot of questions,” he said. “When are we going to the park?”

“In an hour or so?”

“That works,” Bess said. “It’s such a beautiful day to spend indoors.”

“Teddy my sweet,” Josie said. “Why don’t you go to your room with Mary to change your clothes? You have been running around for the last hour, I don’t want you to catch cold when we go out.”

“Alright!” he said and a maid curtsied, then led him upstairs. You followed Bess, Andrew and Josie to the drawing room and Andrew flung himself to the armchair and Bess sat down next to Josie on the sofa, entwining her fingers with hers, making you smile.

“So why aren’t you enjoying the marital bliss, exactly?”

“Andrew!”

“What?” he asked. “You’re always welcome but I thought you two would spend the day in bed.”

Oh God damn it.

Of course. It made sense that they would think that. Considering how in love you were supposed to be, everyone was going to think you and Benedict had consummated your marriage last night and that you would both be in…

What was it called again?

Marital bliss.

There was no way you could tell them nothing had happened. It would not fit the lovesick image of you and Benedict.

“Well,” you swallowed thickly. “He had business with his brothers and—and his mother invited me outside.”

Bess and Josie exchanged glances and Josie cleared his throat.

“And…” she trailed off. “Are you alright?”

Andrew scoffed a laugh and turned to look at her.

“She’s married to the man she’s in love with Jo, we didn’t send her off to battle,” he said as a maid brought all of you tea, and you thanked her before getting your cup from the tray.

“Can we not talk about this please?” you asked as the maid left the room and Josie shrugged her shoulders.

“I just want to know whether you’re content.”

“If that bashful look on her face is any clue, I’d say she’s quite content with her husband,” Andrew pointed out and you kicked at his ankle, making him yelp.

“Ouch!”

“Y/N, we just want to make sure you-” Bess thought for a moment. “Enjoyed your wedding night, that is all.”

You buried your burning face into your palms before lowering your hands. “I’m not going to talk about that with you, any of you.”

“I’m your sister!”

“And I’m your brother-in-law and Bess is technically your sister-in-law,” Andrew said. “Who are you going to talk to if not us?”

You shot him a glare. “No one. No one seems like a great option here.”

Andrew took a dramatic breath and sat up straighter.

“We don’t have to know the details,” he said. “Just overall, was it good or not?”

“Josie, make him stop.”

“Answer the question first.”

You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought or dreamt about that.

Lying with Benedict.

The dream flashed before your eyes, sending a fire over your face. He was incredibly handsome, no one could deny that, and if that kiss when you two were caught was anything to go by, it meant—

It just meant that you were a goddamn fool that was letting some lust cloud your thoughts.

“The second time is going to better by the way,” Andrew added in a haste. “The first time is always quite terrible.”

“Speak for yourself,” Josie pointed out and Bess giggled, holding her hand again as Andrew rolled his eyes.

“It gets so annoying to be around in love people sometimes, you have no idea.”

You scoffed. “Oh I have an idea, don’t you worry.”

“Clover, was it—”

“Yes!” you cut Josie off and let out a breath. “Yes it was good, yes I’m very happy, can we just stop talking about this please?”

Andrew smirked.

“Handsome, romantic and talented in both art and marriage bed, a great combination,” he said, holding up his tea cup, mocking a toast. “To Benedict Bridgerton’s many skills then.”

“Andrew I swear...”

“To happy marriages as rare as they are, and to my sister’s luck in finding one,” Josie held up her own cup and Bess grinned.

“And to many blissful nights and mornings for our Clover.”

“Dear God I hate all of you,” you grumbled, making them laugh and you sipped your tea, then leaned back, trying to ignore the burning in your cheeks.

                                                          *

You had no idea talking with people the day after your wedding night would be this uncomfortable.

For what it was worth, they were quite nice about questioning you. Especially Lady Bridgerton who had only asked you whether you were feeling well on this lovely afternoon with pinkness on her cheeks, and Daphne looked like she had a million questions to ask you but was now promenading with the Duke. Charlotte wasn’t in the park, Eloise had informed you that she had told her she would spend the day with her siblings reading to them, so she wouldn’t be coming.

You were beginning to like having conversations with Eloise more and more. You had spent nearly an hour talking with her and Andrew while Bess and Josie walked around the park, but soon enough Andrew had left to join some friends and Penelope and Eloise had decided to go to the other side of the park, inviting you to go with them. You had said no, promising them you’d join them the next time and walked away from the rest of the crowd, desperate to get your thoughts in order, alone.

You had given the excuse of keeping an eye on Teddy and now you were watching him run around with Gregory and Hyacinth while you sat under a tree, enjoying the sunlight while your thoughts stormed through your mind.

Your wedding night hadn’t been as terrifying as you had thought, and Benedict hadn’t even tried to so much as imply anything or touch you. Though it was supposed to put your heart at ease -and it had a little- you still couldn’t help but wonder…

This was all because everyone kept asking you since the morning, but you wondered for a moment how it would actually feel if you had kissed him again, or perhaps—

Perhaps more.

You shook your head at yourself, trying to snap out of your thoughts before a four-leaf clover caught your eye right where you were sitting. You pulled your brows together and reached out to rip it, then twirled it between your thumb and pointer finger but your eyes snapped up when you heard someone clear their throat.

Benedict.

You tried to ignore the way your heartbeat got faster at the sight of him and he shot you a small smile, then motioned beside you.

“May I?”

“Sure,” you said. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Neither did I,” he said as he sat down next to you and stole a look at the clover in your hand. “Is that a four leafed one?”

“Mm hm.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of those.”

“I keep finding them, Josie says I have a gift.”

“Is that why she calls you Clover?”

You nodded and extended your hand, still holding it.

“There,” you said. “You can keep it, for luck.”

Benedict shot you a smile as if you were giving him a precious artifact rather than some simple flower, and took it from you to carefully place it in the pocket of his waistcoat.

“Thank you.”

You shrugged your shoulders, seeing Colin approach Miss Marina while Anthony made his way through the crowd, no doubt to join his friends. Teddy caught Hyacinth and bolted away from her as she and Gregory started chasing him, letting out a gleeful laugh.

“Everyone keeps asking me if I’m alright.”

Benedict raised his brows. “And are you?”

You stole a look at him and bit down a smile. “Oh I meant they’re asking because—”

“No I know,” Benedict said, a small smile curling his lips. “I’ve been getting some questions myself.”

“People are asking you if you’re alright?”

“They’re asking me if you’re alright,” he said and you felt your cheeks burn as you averted your gaze from him.

That meant no one knew you two hadn’t really consummated your marriage, but considering how close he was with his family, you still felt the need to ask;

“So you didn’t tell your brothers?”

“No,” he shook his head fervently. “Of course not. Did you tell your sister?”

You shook your head as well. “I figured since we’re pretending to be in love, it’d make sense if we-you know.”

He paused for a moment and cleared his throat. “Right,” he said. “Yeah. I’m beginning to think no one in our lives is subtle.”

“You’re not subtle,” you pointed out and he scoffed.

“And you are?”

“I’m the paragon of subtlety, what are you even talking about?” you asked back, making him chuckle and he held up his hands, gesturing surrender. You bit on your lip to stop your smile, then took a deep breath.

“Well then I suppose I should be the first to ask you,” you said. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.”

You tilted your head. “Benedict.”

He shot you one of those smiles that made your stomach do a happy flip. “Hm?”

You found yourself grinning despite yourself. “How’s marriage treating you?”

“Hasn’t stabbed me yet,” he pointed out, coaxing out a small laugh from you. “It’s going pretty good so far if you ask me.”

You hummed, trying to adapt a serious look but failing terribly. “Your baseline is rather strange.”

“Maybe,” he admitted. “What about you? How’s marriage treating you?”

You thought for a moment, pulling your brows together.

“It’s um…” you trailed off. “It’s not what I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

You rubbed at your wrist in an absentminded manner, your frown deepening as you tried to find the right words while he waited patiently.

“Just not this,” you ended up saying, and that gentle look appeared in his eyes again.

“I know you don’t trust me yet,” he said after a beat. “But I want you to know that I trust you. Wholeheartedly.”

You blinked a couple of times, that familiar pang tingling in the bridge of your nose and you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” the question came out as a rasp and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I am.”

“Why?”

A soft smile curled his lips and he heaved a sigh.

“I think you know why,” he said. “You’ve known why since the rooftop.”

You stared at him in complete silence, your eyes locked in his and it was only when you heard someone call out your name that you snapped out of it and turned your head.

“Hey lovebirds!” Andrew said. “We’re going to grab something to eat, are you coming?”

Benedict cleared his throat and got up to offer you his hand. You could feel the sparks running through your veins as soon as you placed your hand in his so that he could help you up and both of you paused for a moment before you inhaled shakily, then pulled your hand out of his, missing the warmth of his skin the moment you did so.

“Shall we?” he held out his arm and you forced yourself to focus, then placed your hand on his arm.

“Yeah,” you said, your heart still pacing in your chest. “Sure, let’s go.”

Chapter 16

[gabessquishytum]

Wandering jack of all trades Hob (minstrel, storyteller, bard, handyman) wanders in to a village that makes sacrifices to the Terrible & Great Spirit of the forest. Hob can hear the all caps, even tied up as he is to this altar.

It seems, so the village wouldn't have to sacrifice one of their own this time, they choose (secretly,,, to Hob anyway) to use Hob as this years sacrifice. They might feel sad about it, because Hob seems like a nice guy, but him or them.

Dream (or Great Forest Spirit, "terrible" seems a bit much) has decided to visit the towns that he protects. It been eons seemingly since he walked among humans and his sister poked at him for being so removed -- yes, even Eldritch spirits have family.

Dream has never rightly cared how the villages under his "protection" work to secure that protection -- honestly it's been ages since Dream even cared about such "formalities," but he's on walkabout right now and encountering all the village rituals.

Dream can't say he likes humans any more than he did before, but the mead and dancing rituals in his honor are nice....(he might give those villages a little extra zhuzh.). The villages that choose blood rituals are less fun, but Dream gets it.

💫💫💫💫

When Dream first got to this new village it seemed nice and he met another traveling visitor Hob, please call me Hob, who seemed to make it his mission to make Dream smile (and laugh) with his ludicrous "stories" and silly songs. Dream was not used to a human who wasn't off put by his natural weirdness. More over, Dream didn't sense any bad intentions from Hob, just interest in Dream. Dream was charmed, despite himself.

💫💫💫💫

Dream stepped away for like a minute (it was more like a month or two), and comes back to find Hob naked, tied to an altar, about to be sacrificed to, well, him.

Unacceptable.

Certainly, Hob was Dream's! But not in a stabby way.

Aalsjdjdshahaj I have this mental image of Dream just. Growing. Taller and taller and more eldritch by the second. The villagers are flattening themselves against the ground in fear. Hob is watching and trying not to be horny about it (he's still tied to the altar and he's only 90% sure that Dream isn't going to like. Eat him).

Eventually once he's been rescued, Hob is like "so you're the Great and Terrible Spirit, huh? That's kind of a fancy title. Am I still allowed to call you Dream?"

And Dream (still eldritch as fuck, around 8 feet tall with long claws and huge black eyes and teeth) leans down and regards Hob’s still naked form: "you are mine, and thus may call me whatever name you like."

Hob gives up trying not to be horny. It's not like he can hide anything from this awesome, beautiful creature anyway. God, he can't wait to write a ballad all about Dream.... with a verse specifically dedicated to his massive magical dick.

[sparrowrye]

Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, A3 part 5

Synopsis: Alastor disappeared for 8 years, leaving you confused, crushed, and angry. You spent those years building up your new self and protecting the haven from dangers left and right. What will happen when he returns to the new changes? Will he return anytime soon? Could you even go back to the way things were?

Previous part

Part 5: trouble in paradise

WARNING! You should make sure you're in the right mental headspace to deal with a challenging chapter like this (several mentions of suicide). Also, it's very long.

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

"I am not having this conversation with you." I whisked around and headed for the front door, making sure my tail whipped against his leg as I did. He caught the end and yanked me back. I spun on my heels, teeth bared in a snarl, and eyes dark with anger. "How dare--"

"We are having this conversation." He took a step to meet me halfway, causing me to nearly run into his chest. He slammed his cane on the wood floor and brought his face close to mine. "Your behavior has been abrasive, rude, and unacceptable."

"My behavior? My behavior?" I slammed a hand on my own chest. "How about yours? You've been short with me and the children, you and Reagan can't seem to be adults and be in the same room for more than five minutes without tearing each other's throats out, you snap at Husker left and right, and you keep trying to tell me what to do."

He straightened up so he was looking down his nose at me. His smile was quirked up in a black gummy snarl. "The children are misbehaved, I refrain from speaking to Reagan but she insists on eliciting an argument, I'm treating Husker as I always have, and I am in no way telling you to do anything." His staticky voice was sharper than usual and he attempted to break through my shield with his mind. It edged on my anger as I reinforced the shield.

"That's right, you're not telling what to do." I jerked back my tail from his grip. "You're telling me what not to do. I've been on my own for eight years. Even longer than that before you came into my life. I don't need your protection or your help."

His ears bent back as his smile strained to stay up. My snarl fell from guilt.

"We have magic. You have far more advanced magic. If I'm in danger you can easily come and be the great savior. For now, leave me alone to hunt this bastard's factory down. I need to clear my head. Reagan and Lucas will take care of Nym and Thatcher." I turned back to the door, being extra careful to keep my tail close to my heels, and closed it behind me.

I morphed into my Dragon form and took to the skies. The wind whipped past my face and the clouds were a soothing dousing to my hot anger. I flew from cloud to cloud, keeping well out of sight until my wings grew tired from the exertion.

Incorporating Alastor back into my life, into everyone else's lives, didn't go as smoothly as I had planned.

The first biggest issue was the children. He didn't care for Nym and Thatcher in the slightest. He was actively annoyed by their mere presence and they knew it, too. It made them more avoidant of the house itself and more clingy to me when they were inside. They were either at my side or in their room -- never did they spend time with each other in the common spaces of the household. I felt guilty for letting that happen.

Reagan wasn't helping either. She and Alastor were always arguing whenever they were left alone together. Sometimes they even argued about me when I was present in the room. Reagan was protective of me, a trait I found admirable, but it was causing more problems than solutions. Alastor being Alastor, he didn't let any snide remarks or comments slide. I felt guilty for letting Reagan know more about the complicated relationship. I should've kept her oblivious for as long as possible.

Husker was also being avoidant. He didn't frequent the old house like he used to and any time Alastor stepped in the room he fell silent and stood on the opposite side of the room as me. It didn't take long to realize Alastor was upset that Husker and I were close--closer than Alastor and I. Guilt gnawed at my chest for not defending my friend.

The others, from Charlie to Vivian, to Althea, to Vilcin, and to everyone in between, were constantly asking me how I was holding up with Alastor. Reagan's words echoed in my head about how she and Husker had to deal with my affects of Alastor's disappearance. So I put on a smile and told them we were working on it.

Althea had caught me on the streets and tried to dig deeper, claiming that the thread between me and Alastor was very transparent. I kept up the act and told her we were taking small steps to make it stronger. She didn't believe me--I could tell by the way she looked at me--but there was nothing she could do about it.

I touched down in a random forest and melted into the shadows. I skidded across the unoccupied plots of land until I came to a town. I picked a random shadow and stayed hidden in it, listening and watching all around me. How much more simpler were these people's lives? My own life felt so vastly unique that it actually felt tragic.

I jumped from shadow to shadow, from town to town, for hours on end. No amount of hunting could reveal any kind of information. Though I wasn't really searching for anything. I knew Vox's trackers would lead us right to the factory but I needed something to do. My responsibilities in the haven had vanished--likely from Charlie's input--on the account of giving me more time to spend with my family. If only they knew that it would better help me if I had something to occupy my hands and mind.

So I stayed off the haven's grounds from dawn to dusk, and further on. I was procrastinating my next interaction with Alastor. I knew he wouldn't severely hurt me but the memories from when we first met had begun to resurface. Alastor always had a screw loose so what would happen if he was pushed to the very edge? I was likely going to be the one on the receiving end of it.

I manifested in an alley of a small town and sat down. I was exhausted; physically and mentally. I leaned my head against the cold brick and listened with my Demon ears, no magic, to the sounds of the quiet little town.

I could hear mumbled conversations from family's and couples, could hear the static of radios and televisions, could hear the rustle of a cat looking for dinner in a nearby street, and could hear my own labored breathing.

I was feeling panic. Why was I panicking? Why was I sweating so much? I hadn't used a lot of magic today or even recently. Why was my chest so tight?

My fingers gripped the stone beneath me. I scraped my foot claws so they drew little white lines in the pavement. My heart was thundering in my ears and adrenaline was confusing through my body for no apparent reason.

I leaned to the side on my forearms as it became difficult to breathe. My throat was so tight and my hands felt cold. There was no magic around me. I couldn't feel anyone. I couldn't hear or see anyone either, meaning any of Blackwater's legacy weren't nearby.

So what was wrong?

My breathing came in wheezes. I gripped my maroon jacket as I my vision darkened. My claws were scrapping against the pavement. I needed to breathe. My magic wasn't working. Why wasn't it working? I couldn't sit still. I just needed to breathe.

"What's wrong with you?"

My head snapped up at Vox's familiar voice. My lips pulled back in a snarl as I scrambled to my feet and attempted to collect myself.

"What do you want?" I demanded.

"You seemed like you were struggling so I came to check."

"How sweet," I mused sarcastically. I was so out of breath.

He gave me an unamused look. "Trouble in paradise?"

"That's none of your concern."

"Oh sure it is," he held his hands behind his back, "When my lovely guardian is shriveling on the cold ground in my territory, it becomes my concern."

Shit. I hadn't realized I was on Vee territory. I hadn't paid attention to any of the trademarks of their land.

"Don't you have a ring fight to broadcast?" I snapped. I was so hot. My magic was struggling to cool me down. Why couldn't I control my magic? Was Vox in on this? Was he causing this?

"My champion doesn't fight on weekdays." He casually pulled out his phone and started scrolling on something. Vox had concocted a strange mix of willing and unwilling fighters for a massive ring fight. He broadcasted these fights nearly every evening. They didn't always end in death but that didn't make it any less. It made me grateful that part of our deal included that I would not defend his stations if there was an active ring fight. It kept my name from being tarnished.

I hate politics.

I put my hands in my pockets and left the small alley. I tried to get Alcine to wrap around my legs to teleport me but she wasn't willing. Her large hat stayed within my peripheral as I tried several times over to melt into the shadows. Something was very wrong.

Vox's loud, metal boots tapped the ground as he came running up to me. I turned right as he reached for my face. Blue claws zapped with blue electricity. It ran through my body and left me frozen in place in the new location. My hair was sticking up and my tense body was ready to kill someone.

As soon as Vox's flat face came into view, I struck. My black claws wrapped around his throat and the other gripped the corner of his screen to keep his head from moving. I wrapped my tail around his torso and stepped my massive foot claws on top of his feet.

"I made it very clear that you were to never do that again," I hissed, spit falling on his screen in tiny drops. My voice had dropped and my eyes blackened. My own vision had a coat of dark purple across it.

"F-figured you could...use some personal space." Vox choked against my tight hand. I examined the room. It looked like a simple lounge room. The bright pink and various other colors told me we were in one of Valentino's studios. My magic reached out to feel we were down in Hell.

Vox stifled a cough. I shoved him away so his back hit the wall. "Why is everyone attempting to protect me? I'm the one who protected the Haven for eight years straight. I'm the one who killed Blackwater. I'm the one who you asked to protect your surface stations. I don't need help or protection!"

Vox rubbed a hand on his neck. "It's out of care," he shot back, "You've done a lot for everyone and we just want to return the favor."

"You can return the favor by staying out of my way and leaving everything to me. I can handle it." My tail whipped furiously behind me as I stepped in a circle. My foot claws tapped the tile loudly.

Vox fixed his suite. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're hella good protecting everyone but shit when it comes to yourself."

"What is that supposed to mean?" My eyes narrowed and I grew very still.

"This isn't the first time you're having mental problems. You almost didn't come back after killing Striker and Blackwater."

"How do you know that information?" I took several steps towards him.

"I have my sources." For the first time, he wasn't smug about it. Was he actually trying to be kind and helpful?

"You're an awfully nosy person." I was gradually reigning my magic in. I knew how to pick at the smallest bit of magic, thanks to Adam and Blackwater, but doing it while awake and conversing with another Demon was a different story.

"It helps me stay connected with everything that's happening. Hence why I gave you a phone but don't listen in. You need to stay just as connected as me." He reached his magic out to touch mine. I magically flinched away. There were few times in our interactions that we had had genuine conversations. This felt like one of them.

"You seem interested in helping me more now that Alastor is back." I put my hands in my pockets and pulled my shoulders back.

He gave me a funny look. "I've been trying to help for the past eight years. Are you telling me you haven't noticed? I'm the one who approached you about our deal."

"I know you've done nothing but flirt with me and try to convince me to leave Alastor."

"Now that he's back, I know you won't leave him. Well, I know he won't let you leave." He flicked his hand dismissively, eyes averted to the side.

Something about the way Vox said that itched the wrong part in my brain.

"You realize I have as much a say as he does."

Vox's sly look returned. That's the Vox I knew how to handle. "Do you? You're not even a hundred years old. He's got centuries on you."

"And centuries are supposed to mean he's in charge of my every step and word?"

"You're his soulmate. And he's--well--he's Alastor. He's not one to just let things happen."

"Are you trying to stroke my ego or degrade it? I've gotten both from you in the span of five minutes." I faked a look at a nonexistent watch on my wrist.

"I'm trying to talk you down from whatever panic attack you were having in the alley. And it looks like I did exactly that."

I took stock and realized he was right. My magic was back in my grip, my hands weren't as sweaty, my heart was at a normal rate, and my head felt clear. So that had been a panic attack? I didn't get panic attacks. I had meltdowns when things were too much but I never had a panic attack before. This wasn't good.

"I appreciate the help," I said, suddenly very sullen and not at all representing my Dragon Demon persona, "but I need to return home now."

"I'll be here if you ever need someone to grab a cup of coffee with." His tone was just as sullen as mine as he walked to the door. I melted with Alcine and found a small, empty alley in Pentagram City. Before I could convince myself otherwise, I teleported back up to the surface.

It was a new moon which made everything look pitch black. I could hear the splash of the waves at the base of the cliff and the whistling of the wind. I reached my magic out to feel Reagan, Lucas, Nym, Thatcher, and Alastor all safe in the house. I checked in on the young pair, the horrid nightmare of Adam standing over them resurfacing, before going to my bedroom.

Alastor was in his office so I quickly changed into soft night clothes and glanced at the old timey clock on the mantle. Why was he in his office at this hour? What was he doing? Was he avoiding me as much as I was avoiding him?

I casted the small fire out and climbed into bed. Alastor walked in a few minutes later. My ears strained to listen to his soft movements until he was lying in bed next to me. I ignoring the guilty pit forming in my stomach and put myself to sleep.

Had I known what would happen, I wouldn't have gone to sleep that night.

****

I let out a sigh and hung up the towel. I looked at my red eyes and saw another bright pair behind me. I screamed and spun a cast back at him, slipping on the tile as I did. The back of my knees hit the rim of the tub and I fell backwards in it. I scrmabled back with my hand outstretched. The faucet dug into my spine. He practically glided into the small room.

"Don't come closer!" I yelled. "My accuracy gets better every time."

"Your Slight magic stands no chance against me," he mused, "but I appreciate the confidence."

"The fuck do you want?" I demanded again.

"Should it surprise you that I want to meet my soulmate?" He tilted his head to the side.

"If you kill me you also die," I reminded him.

He chuckled. "I know how the magic of soulmates work, my dear." He stepped close and held out a hand to me. "If I wanted you dead, I would have done so already." The deepening of his tone didn't make me want to accept his gesture any more than already.

------

I landed hard on my back and felt a crack run through my spine. I sucked in a gasp of air and stared up at the gray sky. I gripped at the wet grass and tried to pull my strength back in. Alastor appeared above me a moment later, smiling down at my paralyzed body. He knelt beside my head so his ugly yellow smile came closer to my face.

"This suites you," he said, "this desperation. You're trying so hard to escape no matter what it does or if it kills you." He pushed a strand of hair out of my eyes. "Unfortunately for you, it matters to me because we share the same fate."

"Fuck you."

His smile lessened slightly. "I'll add another rule for you to follow." He grabbed my throat and hoisted me to my feet. His claws dug painfully into my skin until I could feel my blood soaking my shirt. He pushed me against a tree and leaned in close to my face. I pulled on his wrist and tried not to cough in his face. "Rule number five. Never speak to me in such a way again." He paused. "Words like that are unbefitting for a woman."

"You can..." I struggled to speak clearly, "you can...keep me here but...but I'm...but I will not play...play by your rules." My heart was racing as his grip tightened even more so. He dies if you die. He dies if you die. I repeated in my head.

He let go of me and I fell face first into the ground. I gasped and coughed up spit as I rubbed my throat. "Give it time." I saw his feet walk around to stand in front of me. "I can be very persuasive."

------

"I know what you're trying to do," I jutted a finger at him. I leaned against the wall to get off my injured foot. "You did this to me on purpose. You're trying to make me grateful for you."

"So what if I am?" He put his hands up like sharp ugly flowers. "After all, you should be grateful. You could carry on with a life in the rings or spend it in a distant safe house with nothing to worry about ever again."

"It's a cage."

"To you, my dear, everything is a cage." He walked over and put his hand out to me.

"What?" I looked between his red eyes and his dark claws.

"Are you ready to return home now?"

I almost wished he had just teleported me back without asking. I didn't want to touch him let alone take his hand. Who knew if he had conjured up some kind of magic deal that solidified when I grabbed his hand?

And yet, when I looked around at the quiet, dangerous town, I knew there wasn't another option. He would keep looking for me and a Full mage with his power could most certainly find me with ease. I didn't want to go back in that cellar. All because I had the worst luck in the world and had him as a soulmate.

I looked down at my feet and took his hand.

------

"What is it, doll? What's happening?"

"He's...the man...he's wearing a white suite...exactly the color of his hair...and he's yelling with her. They're fighting. There's yelling. He hits her. She's arguing back but not fighting. Why won't she fight?"

"Stay with me dear." She touched my lap. I tried to lower my tense shoulders but it was hard.

"He picked me up and...he closed the door on her. She's screaming. Why is she screaming? Why is he taking me away from her? I can't...I can't reach her. I don't...where is he taking me? I don't want to leave her."

"Enough sweetheart, come back. Come out of the memory." She touched my shoulder this time. "Come back to my store. Come back to this world. It's all just a memory."

"I can't stop crying. Why...is that my mother?"

"Sweetheart, you need to come back. You're going in too deep. Stop the emotions."

"But...I want to see her."

"We'll look next time. We can come back next time but you need to take a break. Come out of the memory. Come back to the store. Blink twice and look up."

I stared at the figure reaching out to me through the bars. I was so close. I just wanted to touch her hand one more time. But it was just a memory. She wasn't really there. She might not even be alive at all.

------

"You need to accept the fact that you will never leave this place for the rest of your life," he said with radio static behind his voice. He let me down so my feet were flat on the ground but so he could tower over me. I put one hand on his wrist and the other arm across his chest to keep him away.

"I'm growing tired of your antics. These little outbursts of yours will stop today." It was more terrifying that he was smiling through his anger. I leaned away despite the sheer drop beneath me and he followed, never more than an inch away. "If you don't want me to treat you like a caged pet, I suggest you apologize and quit it with this delusion of yours."

His smile was wide and his breath smelled like roadkill. He dug his claws further into the wound he created, making me wince. "I'm-I'm sorry." He held me over the edge for several heartbeats. Eventually he pulled me away but didn't let get off my neck.

"I never want to hear you mention anything about leaving here, again. To me or to Husker. Do you understand?"

I wanted to cough from the way he was holding me but I held it in. The tentacles were still pulling onto my wings and pulling them painfully down. My resignation made my shoulders fall. "Perfectly."

He let go. I turned to the side to cough, clutching at my bleeding neck. I felt the wounds closing but the blood was still plastered to my skin.

"Good talk." His cane appeared in one hand and he put the other behind his back. His voice sounded chipper again. "Come, dear, let's clean you up." He held his hand out towards the house, looking at me sideways. I took a deep breath and walked past. He walked close behind me.

------

"Sweetheart it's a memory. It's not actually happening," Rosie said.

I cried as the memory continued. I bit down on the man's hand but he just pulled my hands further away from my face. I tried curling in on myself but it did nothing. His other hand moved roughly over my skin as I screamed into the gag.

I felt Alastor's presence come from behind me. I squeezed my eyes shut and dipped into my mindscape. "Alastor!" I yelled as the memory dragged me back through my shields. I felt his presence wrap around my head and saw nothing but red. It felt like a string was being pulled out of my ear as he pushed me into the safety of my shields.

"You're safe. Come out of your head," he instructed.

I closed my eyes, pushing away the forbidden memory, and opened my eyes to the library. All three of them were surrounding me, staring down with panic-stricken faces. Alastor opened his eyes and took his hand from my forehead. His eyebrows were the only thing that told me he was upset.

Husker pulled me up to a sitting position as Rosie practically shoved a glass of water down my throat. I took several moments to catch my breath, the two of them trying to help calm me. I stared at the carpet and tried to think of anything other than that horrid memory. I didn't know I even had that memory.

"You're back, and you're safe," Husker said, holding out his paw. I took it and let him help me into a chair. I leaned back into the seat and looked around at the dark library. I was back in the house. I was safe. Relatively.

------

"Do you feel that?" Alastor stood, my hand still firmly trapped on his and pulling me to my feet. He smiled wide and tapped his fingers on his cane. It felt like a flow of magic was cycling between us. It was the same feeling as when a strong gust of wind blows in my face. It felt good.

"Did I do it? Did I unravel it?" I asked. Husker and Niffty were well awake and watching intently.

"Oh you most certainly did. The curse is gone and your true power shines through." His smile widened and looked janky, truly devilish. His eyes had a look of insanity to them. "It will only grow and grow with time. I will be there every step of the way to guide and harbor this power of yours."

I suddenly wanted to be twenty yards from him. I tried to let go but his grip only tightened. His shadow loomed behind him with a large smile and my own shadow turned into a dragon again.

"Our magic combined is like nothing I've seen before." He jerked my hand back so I stumbled into him. My head had to tilt way back just to keep eye contact. "Together, with our combined power, we will be untouchable." His hair had hardened into spikes and his antlers grew overhead. His eyes darkened and his smile reached well past them. Were those stitches on the corners of his mouth?

His claws weren't touching my skin but his grip was crushing my hand. I could feel pins and needles poking through my finger and it went straight up to my shoulder.

"You're...you're hurting me," I whimpered.

------

"Alastor...I..." It was getting harder to breathe. "I didn't...he took me. I...I didn't leave—" pain cut off my words. I squeezed my eyes shut as it rocked through my spine and into head.

"I'm aware." He pressed his claws around my temples and I felt the pain dull. He slipped his arms under my shoulders and legs, lifting me up effortlessly. "Take a look, my dear."

I opened my eyes to see the alley littered with dead and deformed bodies. There had to be at least thirty dead Demons.

"That was all you."

My shoulders fell with my spirit. I had killed all of them. I had even eaten some of them. Their sweet blood still lingered on my tongue and I found myself wishing for more. I could see their scared faces in my mind and feel my heart quicken at the mere thought of them being terrified. They had all been so scared when I had transformed.

Alastor turned the other way but I stared at the site over his shoulder. I actually wanted him to let me go so I could do it again. The energy from all of them still buzzed in my body despite the overwhelming exhaustion.

"I told you dear," my ear flicked at his voice, tears streaming down my cheeks and claws digging into his shoulders, "it's in your nature."

------

Striker grabbed Reagan by the throat and held her close to his face. I fought against the white rope trapping my limbs against my body, but it did nothing. My magic was gone from my grip and the rope kept me entirely immobile.

"You thought you could get rid of me that easily?" he taunted, eyes flickering over to me. "I'll haunt your dreams and your every waking hour. Just wait and see." He withdrew a white knife and plunged it into Reagan's heart.

I yelled and bolted upright from my bed. I fell off the side, covers trapping my legs, and tried to stand up. I choked on a sob and untangled myself.

------

"What does that mean?" she asked, voice quivering. He stopped his assault and took a step back to examine her fully.

"It means your family line has stayed pure since before the Great Collapse." When she showed no obvious sign of understanding, he let out a sigh and put his hands back in his coat pockets. "Magic was not a thing before the Great Collapse. Demons were leaked into our world and brought their wretched magic with them. They started having children with Humans and generations later, everyone had Demon's blood in them. You, my dear," he stood beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder, "are a rare, pure gem. You're not infected with their blood."

Reagan's eyes snapped over to mine. All I could think was - oh no.

He reached up to his face to remove his glasses and his horns. They were fake. "I, myself, am a pure Human." My eyes widened, mouth dropping open. He was a Human. He was a defenseless Human. No wonder he had made all those inventions. "And I'm so glad to have found another one to add to our family."

"Family?" she questioned with a tone of disgust.

"I've been all around the world and collected ten pure Humans. We're going to be the foundation of the new world. A world that isn't tainted by Demons." His eyes narrowed on me.

"We're not all bad," I tried, limply pulling against the chains. My energy was taking forever to return. "We've created a safe haven for everyone. A place where both sides can live peacefully together."

"That wont last long." He waved his hand dismissively. "Demons are ruthless killers and Humans can't fathom having anyone above them."

------

Blackwater's laughter reached past it all. "A true Demon thirsty for blood. I expect nothing less from Alastor's soulmate." He turned to look at Reagan. "Did you know about this?" She shook her head in response, eyes never leaving my writhing form.

"Not...not all...just me...just Alastor." I spoke through the spasms and clenched teeth. I don't know how any of them hadn't broken yet from the sheer force. My breathing was getting faster, my whines louder.

"This is the person you're entrusting everything to," he went on, ignoring my response. "Demons can't help but lie. Lie and manipulate. It's why they come from Hell."

------

"Hey hey, it's okay. It'll be okay. Please stay with me." Husker's pleas were faint. I was curled up in a ball in the corner of my room. My wings were wrapped tightly around my body and a shield of thorny vines kept Husker physically away from me. My claws were digging into the back of my neck, blood falling down my shoulders like a waterfall. My cries were loud and ear piercing.

The shadowed souls broke through my barrier and crawled over each other to reach me. They tackled me like ants on a sweet apple, hungry for my soul and the energy it could provide them. And I let them. My soul felt like it was being torn in eighteen different ways but I didn't fight back -- couldn't fight back.

Then they disappeared.

I looked around to see Lucifer sending them back and raising a bright white and gold shield in place of my shattered ones. My purple mind turned red. How dare Lucifer take away a much deserved death.

------

I pulled myself out of the dreams to see the same black souls pushing against my last shield. They were so close. They were crying out for my energy, crying out for passage, crying out of pain. They were stepping and climbing over each other. Some even tried to climb up my shield to claw through it from the top.

Voices. Voices everywhere. Voices I knew.

I will always be the master of the shadows. -- Alastor

You, half bastard, will get what you deserve soon enough. -- Adam

This involves all of us, especially me and Husker, because we're the ones who had to deal with how it affected her. -- Reagan

Tell me, dear, how's it feel to know that all your hard work will be for nothing? No one will challenge your haven now that he's back and defending it. You won't need our deal anymore but you're still bound to it. You might even be forgotten as news picks up on his return. After all, who can trump the Radio Demon? -- Vox

She has no idea where to even begin to understand herself. And you know only one kind of magic. I am the closest thing to whatever she is. And if you'd like to keep your soulmate alive and sane, I will be working with her to keep her mind from breaking. -- Lucifer

A shadow scraped a claw on my arm. I curled up on the floor and covered my head. "Everyone shut up!" I yelled out. Alastor was pushing against my shields, too, but I wasn't letting anyone in. Not Lucifer, not Husker, not the souls, and not him.

More claws caught my back. My shield was shrinking and their arms were breaking through the shield like glass. I couldn't escape the voices. I couldn't escape my past. I couldn't escape myself. Vox had been right. Alastor had been right. Husker had been right. Everyone had been right about anything and everything. Why was I so useless? Why was I so helpless? Why did I always need saving? Wasn't I strong enough? Hadn't I come a long way?

I would never be on Alastor's level, let alone surpass him. I would always fall short. My past would always come back to haunt me. I couldn't escape. Wasn't I enough?

Something shattered.

Something sharp and aggressive burst through my shields.

Something suffocatingly hot surrounded my mind.

Alastor filled my mind. Red and green colored my vision as his magic spread through my body like wild fire. I couldn't push him away--couldn't get him out. He pulsed through me like my own blood.

Then he pulled.

But I resisted.

My claws dug into the ground as he wrapped his red arms around my torso and pulled me into the darkness; pulled me closer back to reality. I screamed and pushed against him. I didn't want to go back.

"Leave me to die!" I yelled. I tried clawing deep cuts in his arms but they bounced off like rubber. I twisted in all different directions, jumped and dropped my weight randomly, and threw my head back in an effort to hit his face.

Sharp anger poked my mind an instant before I was roughly shoved into the mattress. My eyes snapped open to his glowing, towering figure.

I brought my legs up and shoved him away, nearly sending him off the end of the bed. I untangle my legs from the sheets and tackled him, sending him the rest of the way. "How dare you!" My claws enclosed around his neck. And he let me.

I stopped.

My hands were still around his neck, as was his mind around mine, and his eyes stared blankly up at me. Why wasn't he fighting back? Why wasn't he getting angry in return?

I stood up and backed away. He stood up and fixed his coat and bow tie, eyes fixating on me a second after. Orange sun was poking through the curtains. Was it the evening?

His unemotional eyes never left me as he folded his hands behind his back. I could see the faint string connecting our hearts. It wasn't tight. It was hanging loosely between us.

I fell to my knees.

My hands covered my face.

I began to cry.

I curled inward until I was as small as I could make myself. It wasn't until Alastor laid a hand on my back that I noticed he had moved. I fell under a breath holding spell for what felt like forever.

"Breathe my dear." His voice was soft, gentle, and exactly like I remembered it. "Take it slow." He threaded a hand past my shoulder and into the curled mess. The smell of cedar wood and sweat pinched my nose and I sucked in a huge gasp of sweet air.

I made several more as my body tried to regulate its oxygen intake. Alastor spoke more comfort words until my breathing wasn't coming in wheezes anymore.

His hand was warm. So warm. So comforting.

If I let myself bask in his warmth, how much colder would it be when he disappears again?

But the warm circles he was drawing on my back were oh so relaxing. So comforting. I've been waiting eight years for this. Waiting eight years to know why he left. Waiting eight years to be moved on a deeper level once again.

"My dear, I'm here," his radioless voice cut through the silence. "I am here to stay."

Against my better judgment, I unstuck one of my hands and reached his leg that was touching my side. It felt like I was trying to soak up the sun. 

His smooth claws laid carefully, lightly, on top of my hand. It moved up to my forearm and captured my arm in his warm grip. He was real. He was here. I was touching him. He wasn't a ghost--wasn't a hallucination. 

"I am here, love." His hot breath brushed against my ear. His other arm stretched across my back and hooked on my shoulder. He gave a small tug and this time I didn't resist, allowing him to pull me out of my tight little ball. 

He shifted his position so his legs were on either side of me as I leaned against his chest. He was so warm. He began to hum, the vibrations in his chest nearly sending me back to sleep. I wrapped my arms around his narrow torso and wrapped my tail around one of his legs. 

"I hate you." I choked on a sob. "I hate you so much."

"Shh, darling. I know." One arm kept my firmly against him while the other threaded smoothly through my hair. It felt so comforting, so relaxing, and so right. Alastor the Radio Demon was being careful, gentle, and loving towards someone. And I was the lucky someone. 

"I hate you," I mumbled again. But I love you.

He placed a gentle kiss on the top of my head. I love you too, he answered through our minds. The connection was back. We were back. How long would this good time last? 

He brought his hand around to my jaw and used his thumb to push my chin up. He locked eyes with me, his genuine smile stretching on his lips. He used another claw to push a small strand of hair out of my eyes. 

"There's my girl." 

And placed a soft kiss on my lips.

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

Author's Note:

Big thanks to @wendigonamecaller for the help/ideas on this chapter.

We got over the big hump. Now is time for the sweet stuff :P

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

Taglist:

@wendigonamecaller @saccharine-nectarine @thesimpybitch @papas-ghoulette @masochist-downfall

[smute]

no idea if this is a problem unique to germany or small towns or if god just hates me specifically but you wouldn't believe how hard it is in some places to find a decent pizza delivery service. like im not talking about a michelin star restaurant im also not talking about chains like dominos i just mean a simple pizza place that delivers pizza to people in need of pizza. it's not rocket science. like, it really isnt! but most places that deliver pizza also have about 7-8 other types of cuisine on the menu and literally all of it sucks. and they're not even cheap! then there's the dedicated pizza places that suck for other reasons (franchise restaurants) like pizza hut or dominos. also bad and also not cheap. and then there are the fancier "proper" italian restaurants that make nay handcraft a pizza that will blow le tette di tua nonna clean off, but they also charge fancy restaurant prices and only deliver very reluctantly and when they do they make you wait like 90-120 minutes because they dont see themselves as delivery restaurants its just something they started doing during covid and its too profitable to stop now but its not part of their mission statement or whatever and so they employ exactly one driver and he has soccer practice on fridays. and none of these are what i mean when i say "decent pizza". like what the fuck? unacceptable. this shouldn't be so hard. these are the types of businesses we should be bailing out. im sorry but this is not the kind of world i want to live in. every neighborhood should have its own state sponsored pizza place

[thewulf]

Who are You? Part 2 || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: After breaking up with you lovely cheating fiancée you find a place to stay at your Aunt Penny's house in San Diego. You might just get more than you bargained for when you meet the Jake Seresin.

A/N: Hi friends! Sorry, this took longer than I wanted to, I wasn’t originally planning on doing a Part 2, so it took a bit to come up with a decent storyline. Please, as always, let me know what you think! Thanks for all the love. This is all fluff. Pure fluff! Also, you like sharks.

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 5,800+

Part 1

“Shark Week! Shark Week! Shark Week!” You chanted excitedly hopping on the couch next to Amelia.

“Are you seriously wearing a shark shirt Y/N?” Amelia asked peaking curiously at your Jaws shirt. You loved sharks. You always have always thought they were fascinating. You could thank your mother for that. Emily Benjamin, now Emily Y/L/N. The admiral’s other daughter was also obsessed with sharks. From an early age Admiral James Benjamin took Emily and Penny to go see the sharks at the aquarium. Your mom was quickly obsessed. The two of you always watched shark week together, very animatedly.

You wide eyed her, disappointed in Penny’s not as enthusiastic nature, “And you’re not?”

She laughed tossing the remote in your direction, “No, I didn’t know it was shark week.”

You gasped, rather dramatically, making her turn around in shock, “Amelia Benjamin! That is unacceptable.” You found the Discovery channel right before 8 o’clock hit, grinning in anticipation of learning some more about sharks.

She shrugged, “Now I know. I guess I’ll watch with you?”

“You guess? You’re sitting here until 11 with me. It’s Great White night.” You laughed softly knowing you were straight up nerding out on her.

“There’s nights for specific sharks?”

You nodded, “Only the really popular ones. My favorite, the Tiger Shark, doesn’t get as much love as they deserve. They unfortunately don’t get a night.”

“You have a favorite shark?” She smirked turning her body to you fully. Amelia knew a lot about you, she didn’t know this though. This was interesting to her.

“You don’t?”

“No.” She answered honestly, never really thinking about. See, Penny wasn’t nearly as obsessed as your mom, Emily is. She didn’t have shark week marathons rolling like your mom did.

“Wow.” You feigned hurt placing a hand over your heart, “Well it’s a great week to pick a favorite one!”

She shook her head laughing at you, “You’re precious Y/N.”

“Now,” You clicked your tongue, “A 15 year old should not be telling an almost 30 year old that they are precious.”

“Well,” She challenged you, eyeing you like she was the bigger person, “You are. I’ve never seen anyone geek out on shark week like this.”

Just as you were about to counter, Penny came through the front door. Pete in tow. Your face lit up, “You guys are home just in time for shark week!” You spoke clapping your hands with glee.

Penny smiled while Mav looked straight up confused, “Emily is that you?”

“Should I facetime her in?” The idea popped into your head.

Penny giggled, “No Y/N. Your mom will be too invested to even hold a conversation with us, no point in calling her while it’s on.” You nodded in agreement. The two of you had a system down, no talking while the show was on. But the two of you debriefed during commercials. A mother and daughter shark week combo.

“What’s going on?” Pete chimed in looking bewildered.

“It’s shark week!” You grinned up to him, not daring to move from your comfortable spot on the couch.

“Duh, Mav.” Amelia winked at him knowing how lost he was.

His eyebrows were stitched together in utter confusion, “Okay. And?”

You grumbled, “I’m not doing this again.” You frowned turning your attention back to the TV.

Amelia let out a roaring laugh, “Y/N loves sharks. Just like mom’s sister, Emily, does. Y/N here, is getting a little agitated that we all aren’t sharing the love when it comes to sharks.”

“It’s fine. You don’t have to love sharks. Just means you’re opinion is wrong. I won’t hold it against any of you.” You smiled sweetly at the trio.

“Just like Emily.” Penny laughed ruffling your hair.

You spent the next three hours entranced by the Discovery channel. To your surprise all three of them stayed to watch with you. You saw the way Pete and Amelia watched, more interested than they would admit. You answered all their questions hoping they’d appreciate sharks just a little bit more.

The next morning as you got up you noticed the Discovery channel was turned on, Amelia watching eating a bowl of cereal. No sign of Penny or Pete just yet, “I knew I’d make you a shark lover!” You clapped not being able to contain your excitement.

She shook her head at you, “Actually pretty interesting.”

“Told you!” You poured your own bowl of cereal joining her on the couch again.

She shrugged, “So, it’s Saturday.” She cocked her eye waiting for you to continue.

“Yes it is, I’m glad you can read the date.” Chirping back to her you suddenly were super interested in the bowl of cereal.

She pushed you lightly, “Shut up, I’m talking about your date tonight with Jake.”

“What about it little cousin?”

“What are you guys doing?” She questioned curiously. Amelia knew of Jake. She had seen him around a a few times just knowing how he operated. Amelia knew that Jake was likely not the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with, but she hated seeing you sad over a loser who cheated on you. She was desperate to get you thinking of something else. Her solution was to push you towards the cute Naval aviator who was too smooth for his own good.

You looked down at your phone seeing his recommendations for wear he had sent you the previous night, refusing to give you details of the date. He said he had some plans and that you should dress comfortable, you’d be doing some walking. You were simply praying you weren’t going on a hike. You liked the outdoors when it came to the beach and the water. But hiking outdoors was not your best friend.

“He won’t tell me.”

She giggled, “He’s surprising you.”

“Mhmm.” You sighed, “I’m a little concerned. But he seems like a nice enough guy.”

You heard Pete make his way down from Penny’s bedroom. You ignored what you knew was going down up there, “Who? Hangman? Nice?” Pete chucked starting the coffee maker up.

You narrowed your eyes in on Pete, “He is nice, nice to me at least.”

Pete’s chuckled turned into full on laugh now. He joined you and Amelia in the living room once the coffee maker was humming, “Hangman might be the biggest asshole I’ve met. That’s saying a lot considering who I work with.”

You frowned, Amelia immediately noticing, “That’s rich coming from you Mav.” Amelia countered seeing your mood deflate at the comment.

“Ouch, Amelia. That stings.” He smiled, not realizing he had sent you reeling in your mind. Was he an asshole? He sure didn’t seem like it. Maybe that’s just the way he comes off in training. Should you go out with him? It’s only been about a month since you and Aaron called it all off. You didn’t hear the back and forth going on between Amelia and Pete, stuck in your thoughts. You were always stuck in your own mind.

“Isn’t that right Y/N?” Amelia’s question snapped you back into the present.

“What?” You turned looking to her.

She gave you a half smile seeing the confusion on your face and how such a simple comment could send you spiraling, “You’re going to have a great date with Jake tonight.” She answered you.

Your mouth ran dry. Were you? Was he just trying to sleep with you? Get into your pants? “Yeah… yeah I think so.” You faltered.

Pete could pick up on the sudden shift in the room, trying to backtrack, “All pilots are assholes though, Y/N.”

Ugh. You felt terribly uneasy all of the sudden. You didn’t think should be going on this date anymore, “Mav!” Amelia shouted at him, again breaking you from your thoughts.

“What?” He asked her looking genuinely confused.

“You’re freaking Y/N out.” She glared at him, arms crossed and all.

You hummed, “I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not! You’re about to cancel on him.”

You hadn’t realized you reached for your phone subconsciously, “No.” You shook your head not being able to form coherent sentences. Penny had a reason to watch Jake closely, why were you ignoring that?

Amelia was shooting daggers at Mav now, “You can’t cancel on him, Y/N.”

You sighed putting your phone down, “Maybe it’s not the best idea.” You concluded looking at your hands in your lap.

She snatched your phone from the coffee table, “You are going on this date Y/N.”

You blinked a few times trying to get yourself to think straight, “Why are you so adamant?”

Amelia groaned, “You’ve got to get out there. You can’t let a douche bag break your heart and then hole up. Go on the date.” She smiled as kindly as she could muster putting your phone in her pocket.

“I’m going to need that Meals.” You held you hand out expecting the teenager to give it back.

“Not until you promise me you won’t cancel.”

“Fine, I won’t cancel.”

Pete watched in amusement as the two of you went back in forth, “For what it’s worth, I do think you should go Y/N.” He spoke throwing his two cents in.

“You just called him an asshole!” You countered.

He shrugged taking his eyes off the shark program, “And Penny’s going out with me.”

Amelia laughed at his quick comeback, “He’s got a point.”

You groaned getting up from your seat, “I’m going. Can you give me my phone back?”

She gave you a mischievous look shaking her head, “You’ll have to catch me first!” She sprinted right out the front door.

You gave Pete a bewildered look, “What the hell?”

He laughed seeing Amelia run around the backyard, “She’s just excited you’re around.”

“She’s crazy if she thinks I’m running to get her.”

Pete smiled, “She’ll tire herself out eventually anyway.”

“A real life Golden Retriever”

You took your time getting ready. Opting for a cute sundress and a pair of comfortable sandals. After Amelia finally gave you your phone back you confirmed you were not in fact hiking, thank goodness. Amelia helped you as well, picking out the Jake confirmed he was picking you up at 1 o’clock sharp.

You felt your heart rate pick up the pace when you glanced at your phone showing 12:55. Now or never. Penny and Pete were out back doing something with Amelia doing homework in the kitchen, always doing homework.

“Oh wow, you look really pretty Y/N. Like really pretty.” She excitedly clapped her hands together, “Mom! Come look at Y/N!”

“You look beautiful.” Penny placed her hands on both of your arms, “You look just like your mom.” She squeezed you into a hug. Pete stood there in the doorway awkwardly smiling, unsure of what to say.

All of your attention was suddenly on the door when three loud knocks rang through, “Act normal! Go away!” You shooed everybody back to their previous spots.

“Have fun Y/N.” Penny gave you another squeeze before heading back outside. Pete nodded to you and Amelia was not so discretely staring right at the door doing her ‘homework’.

You composed yourself. It’s just a boy. That’s all it really was at the end of the day. You opened the door being greeted by the most handsome man, “Right on time.” You gave him a closed mouth smile feeling awfully self-conscious all the sudden.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him, not even for a split second. You could really see why women swooned over Lieutenant Jake Seresin. He carried himself so confidently, always so seemingly sure of himself. His demeanor also sucked you right in. He didn’t even have to say a word and you were nearly breathless.

“You look,” He took a step back quickly admiring you, “downright breathtaking darling.”

You turned your head away ever so slightly having to mentally remind yourself not to fall for everything he says. He sure had the charm.

“Thank you.” Act normal. You prayed you were wearing enough makeup to cover the blush spreading across your cheeks, “You look great too.”

“Always do.” He winked holding his hand out to you. Was that a red flag? Should you even be doing this right now? You tried to shut your brain up enough to just enjoy yourself with the handsome man. What’s the worst that could happen?

You stifled a chuckle careful not to feed into his ego, “Right. So, where are we going Mr. Seresin?”

“It’s a surprise sweetheart.” He walked slightly ahead of you, beating you to the car. You bit your lip stopping the smile that inevitably spread across your face when he opened the car door for you.

“A surprise hmm?”

He nodded grinning from ear to ear, “Penny told me just how much you love them.” He emphasized.

Crinkling your nose you tuned to him, “You talked to Penny?”

He motioned for you to buckle in, not daring to move until you were secured. You obliged before he continued, “Thank you. And yes, I talked to Penny.”

You rubbed the back of your hand, “Why?”

Eyes sparkling at your confusion he couldn’t help but to chuckle at it, “I couldn’t go into a date with a pretty girl without knowing something about her.”

“Oh.” You answered quickly. Throwing your head back against the head rest lightly. How were you supposed to continue the conversation?

Smirking he squeezed your hand, dropping it all too quickly. He fired up the truck and started driving before continuing, “So, heard you’re an engineer.”

You hummed in conformation feeling suddenly so self-conscious in front of him. He was beautiful, really beautiful. His green eyes kept growing on you, constantly swimming in emotion. Every time he smiled there were those cute dimples that you always wanted to see. So far so good, he opened the car door for you and all, your fiancé never did that for you.

“What kind?” He wanted more, he needed to know more about you. You were a closed book, hardly giving any information other than the big details.

“I used to work at a plant, in manufacturing. Made vehicles. The days went by quickly and I enjoyed it. I got a new job in quality though that’s completely online. It let me come out here.”

“You’re smart.” He clicked his tongue trying to subtly complement you. He noticed you’re aversion to attention, the way you shied away from it. You didn’t like the overt attention he loved to give. He’d tone it down for you, make you comfortable.

“Sure... uh thanks.” A flush crept down your neck, why couldn’t you just act normal around him? You really never had this problem with Aaron. This was all brand new territory for you.

“Anytime beautiful.” He flashed you that beautiful smile you already craved from him. He paused the conversation focusing on getting to where he had planned.

“I think you’d have to be pretty damn brave to be a pilot.” You continued, wanting to hear his voice. Slowly falling for that southern accent.

His lips twitched forming that signature Jake smile, “Or stupid.”

“Or stupid.” You cracked up next to him, “Fearless.” You breathed out looking towards him. His eyes softened looking at you, not having much time to take you in before turning back towards to road. He grabbed your hand instead.

You were more than thrilled he was holding your hand so gingerly. He drew circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. The chills that were sent up your arm were inevitable, “Foolish.” He countered.

Shaking your head you admired his side profile, handsome, so handsome, “I thought you were supposed to be the cocky one.” You countered, almost begging to see the side of him.

He briefly looking over to you, seeing the amusement in your eyes, “I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you.” He grinned to himself. You really were beautiful. He felt lucky to be taking you out on this date. He didn’t know what you triggered in him, but it was something.

You paused admiring the view outside. The two of you were riding along the Californian coast, it sure was beautiful out here.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He questioned seeing you seemingly deep in thought sat across the vehicle.

You turned back to him gleaming, nature recharged you, “It’s just so beautiful. I feel lucky to be here is all.” You admitted, did he know you were talking more than just about the coastline?

He nodded in understanding, “It sure is.”

The rest of the ride the two of you sat in relative silence, picking up conversation every now and then. You pulled into the San Diego Aquarium. Your eyes lit up realizing just how much your aunt divulged to him. You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face, “Aunt Penny set you up for success.” You squeezed his arm, feeling a surge of confidence.

He looked down you sweetly, loving the reaction this was getting from you, “Since I’m making you miss your favorite shows, I thought we’d come see the real thing.”

You nodded in approval, “This is cool. Thank you Jake!” You gave him a quick hug. You didn’t see the small frown when you pulled apart from him. The frown was quickly replaced by a grin as you grabbed his hand high-tailing it for the entrance.

“I didn’t realize you liked sharks so much Y/N.”

You grinned sheepishly, feeling your ears burn warmly. Hopefully the blush would just stay there and not spread to your face, “Did you know, the whale shark is the largest shark in the world? That we know of. 46 feet!” You gushed.

“I did not.” He laughed seeing the pure bliss in your expression, pulling him along into the building. You wasted no time

“My favorite is the tiger shark.” You mumbled dropping his hand when you got to the counter. That self-consciousness was creeping back up on you.

“Oh yeah?” He entertained you. Clearly, he could see how much you adored sharks, so you wanted to know more, “Why’s that?”

You perked right back up, he was seemingly interested, “They look like swimming tigers!” You grinned, “They have the coolest stripes. I don’t this aquarium will have them, they’re not from around here but they really are the coolest.” You rambled on.

This time he took your hand after you were admitted to the aquarium. You let him, of course, “Want to go see some sharks?” He asked peaking his eyebrows up curiously.

“Yes please!” It took everything in you to walk normally to the exhibit, all you wanted to do was skip your way over there. You really did feel like a little kid in a big candy shop.

Your eyes couldn’t help but to light up when you got to the exhibit, “Look! A hammerhead.” You pulled him close to the glass pointing the gentle giant out, “Did you know they’re immune to stingray barbs?”

He grinned looking down at you just from seeing the sheer joy on your face, “You have a fun fact for every shark?”

“I might.” You turned away from him hiding the blush that was setting in.

He chuckled leaning into you ever so slightly. Your eyes fluttered feeling his body heat next to you. What was it with him? Why did he put you under such a spell? The scent of his cologne was almost enough to make you want to jump on top of him, right then and there, “It’s cute.”

“Sure.” You mumbled feeling the embarrassment consuming you whole. You turned your face completely back to the exhibit, as far away from him as you could.

Jake could see you close off again. That small glimpse of you, your unadulterated joy, was exactly what he was searching for. He had a feeling you were likely teased because you loved sharks as much as you did with the way you tried to shut him out so quickly. He wouldn’t have that, couldn’t have that. Feeling like he needed to do something to show you that he was genuinely interested he shifted himself to stand right behind you. Slowly, he wrapped his hands around your torso. He leaned down to speak to you, “Is this alright?” He asked first before continuing.

You nodded not being able to find the words to answer him. He quite literally rendered you speechless. Having him this close to you was sending you mind into a panic. He was nearly on top of you, pressing himself lightly into you as he held you from behind in his arms. He smelled so damn good too. You couldn’t get enough of whatever warm and spicy cologne with a hint of vanilla that he had on, “I’m not joking Y/N. It’s adorable how much you know about sharks.” He whispered into your ear sending a violent chill down your body. He knew what he was doing, there was no way he didn’t know what he was doing to you.

Nodding your head again you bought yourself another few seconds to respond, “They’re fascinating fish.”

“They’re fish?” He sounded genuinely surprised, still so close to you. The pair of you probably looked much closer than you actually were. Jake was bold wrapping you in his arms like so. You adored it though. You weren’t the biggest physical touch person previously but there was something that was so comfortable about him. You didn’t mind holding his hand, you wanted it. You certainly didn’t mind having him hold you so closely, being sucked in by him.

“They are! They’re special though.” You turned your body around breaking the hold he had you in. He didn’t step away from you. Instead, he placed his hands around you on the handrail, your back brushing up against it. Holy shit, you hadn’t thought this one through. You were chest to chest with Jake, heart beating rather erratically.

“Why are they special?” He looked right at you, forcing you to focus back onto the conversation.

“Right, uhm.” You took a pause collecting yourself, “They don’t have bones. Just cartilage.”

“Is that so?”

You hummed feeling terribly overwhelmed. You were sure your brain was going to short circuit if he didn’t step away from you soon, “Pretty cool right?” You managed to squeak out, voice getting a bit higher as you spoke.

He could see your interest in the situation changing to being curious to overwhelmed by his proximity so he backed off as subtly as he could. Pointing to another shark to distract you he continued, dropping his hand from the railing so you could breathe, “What’s that one?”

You thanked your lucky stars that he picked up on your complete inability to form a coherent sentence when he stood that damn close to you. What was wrong with you? Was this what being interested in somebody was supposed to feel like? To feel so incredibly flustered that a conversation can’t even be held? You certainly hoped not. It would be nice to hold a conversation with the handsome man at some point.

You looked to where he was pointing, “Oh! That’s a baby Lemon Shark.” Gushing, you turned to see him watching you instead of the shark. Jake was enamored with you. How could you do this to him so quickly? He knew how quickly he was in trouble seeing you so expressive about something everybody thought of as so common. He watched you point to the different sharks spouting off all kinds of different facts about them, finding it so endearing you cared to learn so much.

“Can I ask you something?” He stopped as you started talking about how much Great White Sharks can weigh.

You stopped your rambling giving him the go ahead, “Sure.”

“Why didn’t you do something with sharks as a career? You clearly have a lot of love for them. I’m sure you care about other sea life as well.” He asked genuinely curiosity, wanting to know you.

You sighed not loving how you missed your chance from an early age to do something in the field instead of the engineering work you were doing now, “My dad is all about practicality. He always talked about how being an engineer gave him a good stable life and being a marine biologist make life tough. It was like that my whole life. I guess after hearing it for eighteen years you make the choice to become an engineer instead.” You admitted to him, probably the most information you have divulged to him yet. No, definitely the most.

He nodded reaching for your hand again. Placing your hand in his he spoke up, “You don’t sound too thrilled about it.”

“I wish I would’ve followed my own path, not my dad’s.” You paused wondering if you should continue. With the intensity he was looking at you with you decided to just let it all out, “I don’t hate being an engineer. I just… I don’t love it. It’s hard to go and do something every day that I could really care less about.”

The corners of his lips turned up slightly, “That’s why I’m a pilot.”

“I admire that.” You spoke quickly, the word vomit flying out of your mouth. You decided to clarify before he could make a silly comment, “I admire that you did what you wanted to do from an early age. You didn’t let your family convince you not to do something because of money.”

Squeezing your hand, he led you deeper into the exhibit. Finally, he was getting somewhere with you, “Well thank you darling. But I must admit, nobody was going to stop me. My parents gave up trying to tell me what to do once I got into high school.”

You giggled. This didn’t surprise you. Jake was so sure of himself, he oozed confidence. Not cockiness, just confidence. A trait that you wished you could fix in yourself.

“That’s part of the admiration. You wore them down instead of letting them wear you down.”

He looked at you with adoration in his eyes, something you hadn’t seen from your loving fiancé, “Thank you Y/N, really.”

“Anytime.” You let him lead you throughout the exhibit. You felt more comfortable the longer you were around him, opening up even more as he asked you questions. You felt all the worries of earlier start to slip away from the forefront of your mind. He certainly wasn’t the asshole Pete was describing earlier. He was the guy you spent three hours chatting with on the beach. He was so attentive and kind to you, you couldn’t possibly imagine him as Hangman. It was almost like they were two different people.

“It takes a lot to admit that.” He continued the conversation seeing as you were lost in your own head, he had to bring you back to reality.

Your shoulders deflated slightly, “I realized it my first year in a manufacturing plant. Not exactly my passion.”

“There’s plenty of time to change what you want to do.”

You looked at him incredulously, “Sure there is.”

“There is!” He stopped walking pulling you close to him again, “Don’t let time stop you.”

Biting the inside of your cheek you turned away from him. Sure, you were still young but what you wanted to do was something so dramatically different than what you were currently doing, it seemed impossible, “I’ll think about it.” You hummed knowing he wasn’t going to drop the conversation. So, you needed to end it.

“Good.” He grinned continuing the walk, “Everyone deserves to be happy. Especially the beautiful woman standing next to me.”

“Shush.” Your face flushed almost immediately after that comment.

“Never. In fact, I’m going to compliment you so much you won’t know what to do with yourself.” He stood proudly. Jake noticed quickly you weren’t good at receiving compliments. You either turned away or told him to shut up. His gut was telling him you weren’t used to receiving them all too often, having a defense mechanism ready to go. It hurt him knowing you were engaged to somebody who didn’t compliment you, such a simple thing. Jake had a hard time understanding men who would get into relationships just to bring down the woman with them. He wanted to be in a relationship with somebody he couldn’t get enough of. He wanted to shower somebody special in compliments all the time, he craved it. He just hadn’t found the right woman yet to share that with.

“That’s unnecessary.” You countered. Jake was right of course. You were tragic at receiving compliments.

“I disagree. Compliments are very necessary.”

“Are they?” You spun around from the spot you stopped to watch eyeing him.

“They are Y/N.” He returned the stare you were giving him, giving you a goofy look.

You smiled seeing how he eases any conversation, “Alright Jake. I’ll let you have this one.”

“Like I said, smart.” He winked lightning the mood a tad.

Shaking your head, you attempted to hide the stupid grin that was threatening to take over your face. There was something so special about him, you really couldn’t get enough of it, “Ha Ha. You’re funny.”

“Thank you Y/N.” He took a rather dramatic bow forcing a giggle to escape from your mouth, “And that is how you take a compliment my dear.”

“Noted Jake.” You let the stupid grin spread. He made you happy and you wanted to show him that. You couldn’t remember the last time you smiled this much. You were quickly realizing just how wrong Aaron was for you when Jake made you feel all of these things. These weird, wonderful feelings.

“Okay, my turn.” He grabbed both your hands smiling at you brightly, “You’re beautiful Y/N. Really beautiful. Breathtakingly beautiful.”

Your heart immediately sped up at the compliment. Your lips parted slightly thinking of your next move. You’d normally brush it off, but he was trying. He was being so sincere you weren’t sure if you could handle the sweetness oozing off him, “Really?” Was all you could come up with. It was better than running away from it though.

“Really.” He squeezed your hands giving you the reassurance you needed.

“Thank you.” Speaking quietly your eyes looked down, not being able to look him in the eyes.

“That’s a start.” He looked at you with such fondness in his eyes. He was a soft one you concluded. Very confident but soft. He wasn’t afraid to show you his emotions. He was so unafraid he would rather make a fool out of himself to make you more comfortable.

The two of you spent the next few hours talking about anything and everything, the conversation often led back to sharks. You didn’t realize just how long you’ve been with him, the intercom let the guests know that the aquarium would be closing shortly, five PM already?

“Shall we?” He asked pointing towards the exit.

“We shall.” You nodded eyeing the sharks a few more times. You learned that it was a catch and release program that the aquarium was involved in. The aquarium would rehabilitate any hurt sharks before sending them back out into the wild. Giving you even more resolve to come and spend time here in the future.

He walked you up to Penny’s door hearing the TV going off from behind it. You stifled a giggle hearing a shark show was playing, you were going to make them big fans before long, “I had a great day, Jake”

The softness came back out, seeing his eyes down turning just a bit, “I did too, a really great day.”

All your fear seemed to vanish, he wanted it too. He didn’t seem like somebody who was simply playing with your emotions. He seemed genuine, “Want to do it again sometime? Maybe somewhere else?”

“Absolutely.” He took a step closer to you, “Can I ask you one more question before I go?”

“Shoot.” You whispered bridging the gap between the pair of you, leaving hardly any space.

“What’s your opinion on kissing on the first date?” He whispered just so you could hear it, not wanting your family on the other side of the door to hear what was going on.

Your damn heart picked up the pace again. You weren’t sure how the date was going to end but Jake’s bold moves gave you a little confidence, “I think great dates should.”

“Yeah? Was it a great date?” His eyes softened a little more completely eliminating any sense of space between the pair.

You nodded biting your lip, now or never, “It was a very great date.”

That was all the confirmation he needed. Gently, Jake placed his hands on either side of your face. He pressed his lips to yours actually short circuiting your brain this time. You kissed him back eagerly sending a smile right to his face. The kiss you shared was moving towards a full on make-out if one of you didn’t break away. You didn’t want to break away. It all felt so comfortable with him.

He decided throwing you against the outside of the house was not in his best interest albeit he wanted to. He wanted to do a lot more with you but knew he’d have to take it slow. For both of you. So, he pulled away before it got all too steamy. Cracking a smile when he saw disappointed look on your face.

Still with his hands cupping your face he continued, “Have a good night Y/N. Go learn more about sharks so you can educate me next time.” He quickly pecked your lips before dropping his hands.

“Yes sir.” You winked back to him feeling a random surge of confidence. What you didn’t know where the unholy thoughts he was thinking when you spoke to him like that. He really needed to leave before he tried something else.

You waved as he walked back to his car, admiring the view as he left. You walked into the house with three pairs of eyes trained right on you, “How’d it go?!” Amelia asked jumping up from her spot on the couch.

“Really good. Like really good.” You admitted feeling a bit frazzled from the kiss.

“Hangman’s in trouble.” Pete chimed in with a cheery voice. Penny pinched him. Pete really loved to speak out of turn.

“What he meant to say is, we’re happy for you.” Penny smiled from her spot on the couch.

“Did you kiss?” Amelia clapped running up to you, wanting to know every detail.

“Maybe.” You admitted. She squealed continuing to clap her hands. Sending you into a fit of laughter you joined in on your cousin’s happiness. The two of you began to happy dance around the bottom floor of the house.

What you didn’t know was that Jake waited for a moment to make sure you were in the house. He also heard the happy cries and saw you and Amelia jumping around the bottom floor. Shaking his head, he smiled ear to ear. Yup, he was a goner.

Part 2

Tag list: @pono-pura-vida

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

Fit for a King - WIP - “Sit” (Dual POV)

Fit for a King - Masterlist

a/n: this got kinda long, progressing their relationship

(nsfw, almost pure smut, some secrecy, overstimulation)

Everybody's getting on the truck after we stow away all the stuff in the other one. I'm the last one to jump in and 9 pairs of eyes are looking at me (the rest of their faces are covered by the masks) as I'm left standing. "Are you kidding me?"

Nikto is the first one to chime in. "I don't think they factored in the median size of a KorTac operator when saying that these trucks can carry 10." Some of them chuckle. "And I'm supposed to stand now?", I ask them, pulling up an eyebrow. There's a little scuffle as they rearrange when the man right next to me catches my wrist and says: "Sit."

The scuffling stops as the remaining 8 pairs of eyes land on the one offering me his lap to sit on. Even sitting down he's almost at my eye level. Aksel clears his throat and says: "We made some space on the bench." Between him and Nikto was now a hand’s breath of bench unoccupied. It isn't even enough space to fit a small child.

König scoffs and pulls me into him, so I land on his thigh. "Gonna talk to Horangi.", he says, so everybody hears it. "It's unacceptable not to have enough room for every operator." I put my hands on my own lap as he stabilizes my back with his hand, for the others not to see.

Nobody says anything else and I just try to ignore the situation. And how it makes me feel. How he makes me feel.

Last night when I was this close to him, two of his fingers were inside me and I was seeing stars. Now I can feel his thigh against the very same parts and I will my thoughts to steer away from the path they're heading down now. (Also ignoring the fact that he stole my fucking panties.)

______________________________________________________________

She's sitting on my lap.

She. Is. Sitting. On. My. Lap. Again.

The options were limited. I wasn't gonna let her sit between Aksel and Nikto, those asswipes. The gaze I shot them when they offered her the small spot between them to squeeze herself into, lesser men would've cried. I saw the reactions on their faces and I realized: I need to calm down. I gotta pump the breaks. Like the truck is doing right now and her ass gets pressed into me, onto my thigh. I grit my teeth as I feel the plump curve of her booty against me.

I said I wasn't gonna do anything, that we couldn't do anything. Then I had to go and finger her yesterday because I thought, oh, it's only for her pleasure, to give her comfort, make her feel a bit better. And then I had to taste her because I couldn't help myself. And then I wanked myself to sleep with the same hand that has been inside her.

Jetzt haben wir den Salat1.

And now what. Now she's sitting on my thigh, looking like a personified angel in tactical gear, even with the mask on. Her faint scent makes me want to eat her up, throw her down on the floor, tear her clothes off and fuck her, right here and now. Give the others something to really turn their eyes away from. I can feel my blood starting to boil as I look around the truck, every one of my mates looking away as soon as I meet their gaze on us. I'm getting annoyed and we still have some way to go.

Suddenly I feel a hand on my knee and another pair of eyes on me. I meet her eyes as she leans down a bit whispering: "Everything okay?" I can't form any words that's why I only nod. She hesitates for a few moments but accepts my short answer and looks to the front again. Her hand stays on my knee though, softly stroking ever so often, until I feel how it calms me down having her touch me. Herrgott2, I'm so fucking touch starved.

_____________________________________________________________

I'm in my room reading the dossiers for the next mission. My head is already swimming from all the information and I'm already tired. When we got home from the mission and I could finally hop off König's lap (Schoß, that's what they call it in german), everybody scrammed in an instant, something better to do than to linger around.

I went for a shower, worked out and then I went to the shooting range, to drop some more dummies. When I was content with the shots, I got back to the room. The two operators with whom I share it are still out on another mission. And now I'm studying the dossiers. And I catch my thoughts steering towards König again. I even thought about looking into my old stuff from school when I learned german. More than about german vocabulary I thought about the last few days and how it confused the shit out of me, the way he is behaving with me.

On cue or talk about the devil if you will, he comes into the room without even knocking. I turn around on my chair to look at him while he closes the door and just stands there for a moment.

His tall figure dwarfs the small room, the tactical gear is gone and he's wearing a simple black sweatpants and t-shirt. The helmet is gone, but the hood is still on. Yesterday I only saw his hands, today I can see that there are tattoos on both his forearms. Mostly black and grey shapes, I can't make out what they are in this lighting.

"What are you doing here?", I ask him which seems to pull him from his frozen state. With three quick strides he's right in front me and drops to his knees. "I need another taste of you.", he says looking me into my eyes and the lust burning in them makes it unmistakable how he means that.

"I-" His brazen offer has me at a loss for words and when I don't finish the sentence, his hand trails up my thigh. "Please, it's been driving me crazy all day, I need to feel you on my lips." My chin is making its way to the floor as I look at the man in his hood, who had been domineering before, comforting yet unapologetic yesterday, and now is begging me on his knees. "Are you begging me to let you eat me out?", I ask him for clarification. He nods. "Yes." – "Okay.", I say and he doesn't need more than that. His hands are pulling at my pants and I help to get them of, reminded of what we did not that many hours ago. He drops the pants on the floor and doesn't waste any seconds to get to my panties. They're gone and I can anticipate the moment when he finally looks at me. His eyes are glued to the spot between my legs as I open them and drop my knees to the side. I see his brows furrow and his gaze flicks up. "Don't say anything.", I tell him. I shaved when I was under shower after coming home. A little treacherous sign. Of expecting to maybe or maybe not get laid. At least that's one possible interpretation.

I can't see the full expression on his face, but just his eyes speak volumes. He doesn't say anything, just chuckles and then his fingers grip my thighs and his head dives down between my legs. There is no hesitation, no teasing, no soft lead into it. He doesn't waste a single moment and eats me out like he was starving before.

It's his mouth on me, his lips pressing against me, his tongue pushing inside me and circling my clit. My hips buck up when he does this for the first time and all I get is a soft grunt and his hands gripping my thighs even tighter, so I can't escape a single one of his touches. It's everything all at once and I'm losing my mind fast. Soft whines and moans escape my throat and as he sucks on my clit for the first time, I come. Holy shit.

"Again.", he growls, not stopping any of the movements as I still feel the waves of pleasure crash over me, and my sounds get louder and louder. Before I can even register what he's doing, he pushes a piece of fabric between my lips. My panties! "Sssh, Prinzessin3, we don't want the others to hear.", he says, his voice hoarse, his mouth not really leaving my pussy, so the huffs of breath are tickling me as he speaks.

The moans and mewls are muffled by the fabric now, but it doesn't make the sound in this room less erotic. König's kisses, the hungry licks and laps, my muffled cries, the way it sounds when his knees shuffle over the floor as he tries to get even closer. I look down at him and the sight in front of me paired with his restless licking almost makes me come again. His head is framed between my naked thighs, his hood is spilling over my stomach, obscuring the view on what he's doing, his big hands are gripping the curve of my ass moving my hips to his rhythm. Suddenly he looks up and meets my gaze as I feel his tongue dipping into my wetness again and again. I can only feel and imagine what it must look like when his tongue dips down into me. And then he fucking winks at me. I come on his tongue hard, harder than the first time, and if it hadn't been for his arms holding me up, I would have toppled off the chair.

By now I'm also glad that he stuffed my mouth with the panties because of the sounds I'm making. Someone walking by would've surely heard me. Hot tears are running down my face as I whine about how it is too much. "Please, Liebes4, only one more, I wanna be soaked in your juices.", he tells me as one of his hands finds my pussy and one of his fingers sinks into me. He chuckles, the soft sound sending shivers down my spine. "Mmh, so wet again.", he recalls his comment from when he first pushed his fingers into me.

I’m so overstimulated already, but he is not letting up. Stretching me with an added digit, finding a rhythm with his mouth and his fingers that is driving me crazy. His fingers curl inside me, pressing into the most sensitive spot inside me with every move of his hand. His tongue is mercilessly licking over my clit, the pressure being too much and not enough at the same time.

And he is right. I’m so wet, I can feel it on my inner thighs. His fingers in my pussy, his grunts and moans, the flick of his tongue, my muffled cries fill the room once again and as I see stars form in front of my eyes, the almost porny background noises keep stoking my arousal. My hips move restlessly, searching for the friction that finally sends me over edge again. I think I almost pass out, screaming incoherent ramblings into my panties, and I’m sure I’m dropping his name somewhere during my sensual high. Good thing that that is damped by fabric in my mouth, because saying his name while I actually came, out loud and clear… that would have made it all too real. Closer than it already was.

I’m shaking from all the overstimulation and orgasms as he finally lets go of me and I slump down on the chair again. He gets up, just standing there, towering over me, looking down at me. I can’t say anything, just breathe to regain some kind of composure again. He leans down a bit, sending another violent shake over me in anticipation, but he only pulls my panties from my mouth and the relief on my jaw makes me sigh.

The sight of him is sinful, godly and perverted at the same time. His muscles are taut, no doubt he's as turned on as I am. His boner is tenting the sweatpants, the outline clear against the fabric even in the dim light. His hood is stained from my arousal, wet patches from the eyes down. His chest is heaving as he takes in big breaths. His hands are formed into fists, the knuckles white like he needs to restrain himself.

It would be an easy thing to reach for his pants, free his dick and I'm almost a 100% sure he would fuck me. But the same thought that seemingly has him just standing there, looking at me, also halts me, his words “We can’t do that” in the back of my head. Without another word he turns around and leaves. The door falls shut and I’m spent and alone again. Only when I get dressed again, I realise that my panties are missing. Again. God damn it, König.

_____________________________________________________________

Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Verdammt. Ah, des is ja wieder super gelaufen5. I tell myself sarcastically in my head as I basically run down the hallway. I don’t know what I was thinking. I wasn’t thinking! At least not with my brain. I can feel the weight of my boner between my legs with every step, and my balls are aching because they're so fucking blue. It almost physically hurts.

The way she was looking up at me, sitting on the lousy chair, her chest moving up and down, making her titties bounce just the slightest bit, her nipples hard against the fabric of her shirt. Her knees dropped to the side, her legs spread open, her pussy wet and ready for my cock. The wetness on her thighs glistening in the low light. The mental picture is clear in my mind, like if I still had her right in front of me.

I wanna be between her legs again. Her thighs hugging my face, my mouth pressed to her lips, my nose nudging against her clit with every eager lick. Fuck, I can still smell her. The way she tastes, smells, moves when she comes on my tongue is engrained in my brain now. After licking her taste off my fingers, it was hard not to think about her; now it's downright impossible.

I groan and the echo being thrown back at me and reminds me that I’m currently making my way down a very public hallway, sporting the hard-on of the century. Great. I take the next door right, heading to my quarters, when I almost run into someone. I curse under my breath. But it’s only Horangi. He wants to greet me, when he sees my state and just bursts into laughter. “Don’t. Fucking. Say. Anything. If you want to live to see tomorrow.”, I say between clenched teeth. Half-joking because the Korean is probably one of the few people who could actually take me. “My guy, what happened to you?”, he asks with a broad grin on his face. “Don’t fucking ask.”, I bark at him. He’s narrowing his eyes as he inspects my hood. ”What are those stains on your hood?” I freeze for a second, then I pull the hood down. Horangi is one of the few people who know how I look underneath. I groan as I see the wet patches on the fabric, they’re from… her. “Himmel, Herrgott nochmal6. Fucking hell.”, I curse in two languages as I try to push past Horangi. I see him shaking his head in the corner of my eyes as I pass him and I hear him saying something in Korean. I practically sprint to my room, shutting the door behind me with a bang and sliding down to the floor (which is a long way to go for a guy like me).

My hand dives down into my sweatpants, gripping my dick, freeing it, groaning when my fingers close around it and I just imagine that it is her touching me. My other hand lets go off my hood and pulls her panties from my pocket that are soaked in her spit. I wrap them around my base and move them along my length as I start to jerk myself off. I just need the release. Or else I’m gonna go back and take her. The pictures start to form in my mind all on their own. How it’s not my own hand that’s jerking me off, but hers. How she would kneel in front of me, taking me in her mouth, and I’d come all over her face. How I would pick her up and fuck her against the wall, burying myself deep inside her. How she would ride me, with me pulling her down on my dick. My own personal imagination porn only stops when I come all over my hands and her panties, staining my sweatpants and leaving little puddles of cum on my stomach. I sigh and curse again. I do a haphazard job at cleaning myself up, take my clothes off and just drop onto my bed, letting the post orgasm haze take me out.

Jetzt haben wir den Salat: literally 'Now we have the salad', a german way of saying: 'look at the mess we're in'

Herrgott: 'dear god'

Prinzessin: 'princess'

Liebes: 'lovely'

Verdammt. Ah, des is ja wieder super gelaufen.: 'Damn, that went well... NOT.'

Himmel, Herrgott nochmal.: 'for heaven's sake'