#I kind of went off topic a little bit but
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my workload this year is absolutely absurd (1.5x as much hw time as class time in maths, and since it’s double maths i have 8hrs of lessons weekly so that is A Lot, and probs as much hw time as class time in french and bio, but then i put extra time into bio myself). so i would expect to be deeply unhappy about this. but i’m not and i’m actually quite enjoying it. which is odd.
i guess it makes sense though. it has always been that in my spare time, i work on my hyperfixationy stuff, making notes on random crap or working on flute; i have never done nonworking free time stuff like watching tv (except going on tumblr ofc). and now a good half-odd of my school work is hyperfixation stuff. so i am, strangely enough, thriving under these conditions
#im like a specialised deep sea creature that thrives in hostile environments#and just kind of goes bleh and dies in non hostile environmemts#like im not complaining but you would think i would be miserable in these conditions#hmm#im not lying to myself or anything i am just genuinely extremely happy living like this#workaholic ig#almost all of bio puts me in Hyperfixate mode and a good third / half of maths does and a little of french does#french is simultaneously the easiest and hardest of my three subjects 🤔#it has come to my attention that the speaking exam will pose issues not because i dont speak french#bc my spoken french is actually extremely good if i may say so myself#but because i am autistic and a very poor and rambly conversationalist who tends to get Stuck on one topic#and in this exam they actually want me to be succinct and coherent. meanwhile ive gone off on a tangent and suddenly fallen silent#because i dont know the french word for marital rape (the question had nothing to do with marital rape)#so im gonna have to do some self training for that i fear 😂#siph speaks#im doing it now tbh. i went on a tangent about french speaking#because i have been stuck in the topic of french speaking since yesterday#and have talked about nothing else#snd these tags are way too long but knowing that doesn’t stop me#i get STUCK like a RECORD going over the same bit of music#schoolposting
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Was the original meaning behind Reunion & August's/that group's goals known before this episode??? Because Austin said it so matter of factly but I feel like I would've remembered that & gotten extremely excited about it
#I'm guessing it's a fact that's just been sitting in a document & hasn't come up bc August wasn't on-screen all that much during Palisade?#they never went on a mission up there or anything#or I did just miss it#Either way wow!!!!! Okay!!!! Alright!!! Basically what I've been wanting to know about delegates all season!!!#That's so fun. The main resistance group pushes towards reunion with the divines -#how do delegates in that group who don't want that feel? There's gotta be some#I wonder if it's kind of off the table as a topic anyways until palisade is free?#Palisadeposting#I think it's very fun to not have August there but I DO kind of really want a conversation w/ him+eclectic at some point#Skipped around a tiny bit & stopped at like 10min into pal48. I just wanted a little teaser.#usually I'd just collect notes for a big post bc I'm SURE I'll have more to say but. I got excited#Palisade spoilers#Just finished pal47 on my break at work and: I looove when sylvi has fun : ) delightful performance
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despicable
updates as of 22 oct
Travis Dermott knew that he would draw attention with his actions in the Coyotes’ home opener against the Anaheim Ducks at Mullett Arena on Saturday. The Arizona defenseman just hoped that the spotlight might shine on the issue that he was addressing, not on him.
“You don’t really want to go against rules that are put in place by your employer, but there’s some people who took some positive things from it,” Dermott said. “That’s kind of what I’m looking to impact.
“You want to have everyone feel included and that’s something that I have felt passionate about for a long time in my career. It’s not like I just just jumped on this train. It’s something that I’ve felt has been lacking in the hockey community for a while. I feel like we need supporters of a movement like this; to have everyone feel included and really to beat home the idea that hockey is for everyone.”
“I won’t lie,” said Dermott, who is playing on a one-year, two-way contract. “From the outside, it’s easy to see that I’m putting my career on the line for something. I definitely went through some emotional ups and downs that night, not regretting anything by any means, but I’d love to have maybe done a couple of steps a little different by making sure that everyone was aware of what was going on before I did it.
“I don’t want to put my teammates or my coaches or my GMs or the equipment managers in any kind of bad light when it’s their job to kind of look out for something like this happening. It was definitely something that I did just by myself and was prepared to kind of deal with whatever repercussions the league decides to push towards that. I’m not going to back off and say that this battle is won, but we’re going to find better ways to do it.”
As Dermott noted, LGBTQ+ inclusion is an issue that he has supported for a long time. Without getting into specifics, Dermott said the issue is personal for him because it impacts people close to him.
“I’d be lying if I said I haven’t shed tears about this on multiple occasions,” he said. “So yeah, it’s something I’m definitely very passionate about.
“I’ve met a lot of people that from the outside, it looks like they have everything going right in their life and they have a smile on their face every time they talk to you. But sometimes when we get closer to people and get comfortable enough for them to open up to you, you can see that there’s some pretty dark stuff happening to some good people. It doesn’t take too many times encountering something like that for it to really change someone.
“I’ve been blessed to have some of those opportunities put in front of me to really change my view of what being a good person means; what being a good father and a good example and role model means going forward. You really see how people are hurting and it’s because of a system that maybe no one’s intentionally trying to be malicious about, but until you’ve really had that first-person experience seeing people hurting from it right in front of you, it’s tough to kind of take steps.”
It would be a surprise if the league handed down any sort of punishment. The optics alone would add to the public relations damage that the original ban created. Even so, Dermott reiterated his desire to bring the entire franchise into the fold before he takes similar actions in the future, but he also made it clear that he will not be silenced on the topic.
“It’s not like I’m shutting up and going away,” he said. “I know more questions are going to be coming. We’re just going to be as prepared as we can be to just spread love. That’s the thing. It’s gay pride that we’re talking about, but it could be men’s health. It could be any war. It’s just wanting world peace. Everyone’s got to love each other a little bit more.
“Like my parents said growing up, ‘How awesome would it be to be the guy that people look up to?’ That’s what really hit home when I was a kid, especially from my mom. You want to grow up and be that guy. You want to be the guy that’s having the impact on kids like NHL players had on you. If they had been racist or bigoted, that’s going to have an effect on you.
“With how many eyes are on us, especially with the young kids coming up in the new generation, you want to put as much positive love into their brain as you can. You want them to see that it’s not just being taught or coming from maybe their parents at home. They need to see it in the public eye for it to really make an effect.”
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Folk were really into the post I made about Tandie, the zoo lion with a (then) undergrown mane due a period of time on testosterone blockers. He's having quite the glow up this summer.
But!
Did you know that manes are hormone dependent in both sexes of lion?
Let's talk about maned lionesses!
To recap the previous post quickly: the existence of a mane, and it's color, appear to be pretty heavily androgen-dependent. Neutered males or males put on testosterone blockers, like Tandie was, will drop their manes - but like Tandie, if taken off the meds, it will generally grow it back. Darker manes are indicative of higher testosterone levels, and long/lush manes are generally a good signal of a male's fitness and mate quality. Females seem to show a preference for males with longer, darker manes and other males will preferentially avoid scuffles with them. (Yes, as many comments have pointed out, that means Scar was actually a hunk. Do with that as you will.)
The fascinating thing about androgens being linked to manes in lions is that it goes both ways - females with higher levels will also grow manes!
Mane growth in females lions is most commonly seen with elderly animals who have stopped cycling and are basically in lion menopause. And they have to get pretty old for it to happen - captive lions generally only live into their late teens and early second decade, and most of the maned ladies I know about started growing manes around like, seventeen.
Not all old female lions grow manes, but some of the career cat people I've talked to said it happened to about a quarter of the females they've worked with over the years. Which... is an interesting contrast to the news articles about Zuri, who we'll meet in a bit, that breathlessly reported in 2022 that her mane growth "left scientists baffled."
Old lady lion manes are just... precious. They grow in first at the chest and then around the sides or on the back of the head, but they don’t normally get the length, density, and connectivity seen in the mane of an adult male. It leaves the lionesses manes kind of awkward, in the way I associate with very young males, and they're absolutely adorable. Prepare yourself for the photo spam.
I have to start with Daisy, because she's the only maned lioness I've had the privilege to meet in person.
I don't know exactly when she started growing her mane, but she was over 20 years old when she passed in 2019 with these luscious locks.
Here's another female at the same facility, named Adeena. On the left is a photo of her from 2021, on the right is from this spring (I think she's mid-sneeze in the photo). She turns 20 in October.
If you've heard about maned lionesses before, it’s probably because of Zuri, at Topeka. She’s the most recent one to get media coverage and she went a little viral.
(Just a side note here, but I have some strong feelings about knowledge loss in the exotic animal management world due to political/philosophical schisms. This is one of those topics where it's clear: Topeka told a reporter that the zoo had “never" heard of this happening before, but it's common enough to be well known as a thing in other sectors of the exotic cat world. There's so much expertise and knowledge being lost due to infighting between accrediting groups, and it drives me up a wall).
Anyway. Zuri had one of the best manes I've seen on an elderly lioness. It grew long and lush and she totally could have done shampoo commercials. I mean, look at this.
Zuri lived with her sister, who didn't grow a mane in her old age. Here's the two of them together, Zuri on the left, Asante on the right.
We don't completely know what's going on with these golden girls to cause them to grow manes. It's theorized to be related to the end of estrus and higher levels of androgenic hormones, although it's not clear if that's just due to lower levels of other hormones during "meownopause" or if there's something else also going on.
There was some speculation with Zuri's mane growth that it was caused by the death of the male she lived with, in some biological need to "take over the role." The zoo dismissed that idea pretty quickly, and it makes sense, although there is one other instance where I've heard of that happening before.
The cat people I've talked to say that older lionesses who grow manes don't tend to act differently - they're not taking over new social roles in their prides or anything. Sometimes they can be less active, or be a little more nervous around males, and want to be left alone more, but it was emphasized to me that those behaviors could also just be associated with the fact that manes tends to develop in elderly lionesses.
The mane growth can happen pretty quickly, as we saw in the photos I've posted of Tandie over the last year. Here's Bridget, from the Oklahoma Zoo. The left photo was taken in March of 2017 and the right in November - look how much hair she gained over six months!
The zoo did some research into what might have cause Bridget's mane growth, and found that she had elevated levels of androstenedione, which is a hormone that can be converted by the body into either testosterone or estrogen, depending. In AFAB people, it's known to have a masculinizing effect. The zoo theorized that this was the cause of her mane growth, and that the elevated levels might have been caused by a benign tumor. Fascinatingly, though, blood draws revealed that her testosterone levels were the same as her mane-less sister, Tia.
Tia is on the left in the photo below, Bridget and the beginnings of her mane are on the right. Bridget was 17 when her mane started growing in.
I don't think there's any formal hypothesis that there might be a genetic component to lionesses growing manes in old age, but it's interesting to note that one of Tia's daughters, Zari, also grew a mane. (And she grew it young! It started around age 13, interestingly, also right after their male died). She's on the left in the photo below.
And to circle back around to where we began: Tandie is related to a number of maned ladies! His father, Xerxes, was Bridget's son; Zari was Xerxes' half-sister.
Here's a few more beautiful maned ladies to leave you with. In order, Ngala, Pepper, Skye, and Dandy Lion.
Next up, and last in this lion mane series, is the story of five younger lionesses in Botswana who not only have manes but also express a range of masculine behaviors.
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A huge thanks to all the folk who shared photos of and stories about their golden girls for this post: M. Townsen, S.W. Simpson, E. Day, S. Cook, M. Stinner, M. Paul, K. Vanaman, D. O'Halloran, R. Simpson, D. Souffrant.
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SHITHEAD.
Art Donaldson x Reader.
warnings: a lot of them. 18+, slapping, begging, major angst, brat!Art, an argument with make up sex. Art is really manipulative because… he is a bit and we all know it. [Y/N] is very ill-tempered too. it’s dirty.
can be a part ii to SPONTANEOUS, or read as a standalone. this is my favorite piece of writing i have published on this account.
The bed was empty beside [Y/N]. She stared at Art’s empty side of the bed. The soft green sheets and mix-matched pillowcases went unoccupied. Not because he wasn’t home, but because [Y/N] hated Art so he had to sleep downstairs on the couch.
It wasn’t that she really hated Art. She did hate him right now. Not in a funny way. Their drive home had been silent. Poor Art didn’t know how to facilitate conversation that wouldn’t worsen the situation. His sorrowful eyes, but honest eyes kept glancing from the road to where [Y/N] sat in the passenger seat. The real showdown had started between them something awful when the door to their house slammed shut.
See, Art cried when he got mad. Or sad. Or profoundly excited. Their wedding photos were two-thirds Art crying and trying not to show that he was crying.
Art hadn’t cried tonight yet. That pissed [Y/N] off. She was furious and he seemed to feel absolutely zero discernible feelings about that.
They argued all the time. It rarely lasted all too long.
It was different this time. When [Y/N] started to say something cruel or shout or weep, Art got a little smaller, but he alarmingly stood his ground. He averted his gaze and said “I respectfully disagree,” or “What the fuck do you know about how I feel?” in a dangerously level tone.
Fighting with Art about this wasn’t fun. He was too cool about. He knew he was right. [Y/N] wanted to yell and scream because Art was so relaxed and condescending in his tone. When the man who had spent his teenage years getting referred at competition after competition as literally Ice tonelessly said: “Jesus Christ, aren’t you bored yet? What, going to over-explain the same information to me again, or…?” Finally, that had made [Y/N] drag herself to bed and yank the door closed violently enough that she felt the metallic vibration run all the way up to her shoulder.
And she was still laying there, staring at Art’s side of the bed.
At the Zweig’s party that night, there were a few hot topics in the Donaldsons’ sphere:
1) Lots of congratulations from people that had known them grow up, but hadn’t seen them since the wedding or prior.
This was mostly very kind. It dragged that smirk up Art’s face and caused his fingers to dig tighter into [Y/N]’s waist. That look of pride and tenderness on his face was more than welcome.
2) Lots of questions about Patrick. His lack of attendance was felt.
Both Donaldsons dodged these question as much as they could. Art kept an eye on [Y/N]’s liquor consumption. He knew how embarrassed she would be if she said something she regretted in front of Patrick’s family. Patrick had hurt them both, but Art’s heart went out to [Y/N]. Her world had been built around Patrick’s from a young age. Art was trying to engineer his own world higher around her so she wouldn’t be able to see the old place and people that had burned her over the walls.
3) “You’re married. When are we going to be seeing a little Donaldson running around?”
With Art keeping an eye on [Y/N]’s drinking, she hadn’t really been keeping an eye on him. She just assumed he would keep his shit together. Art drinking in public was never really a concern. He wasn’t a big drinker anyway. At this point, his career mattered more and he was approaching his mid-twenties which made him feel surely less young than he had once. He wasn’t a casual beer guy either. It was Patrick who liked beer and Art who would have a moledo or something sometimes. Art did like white girl drinks, though. Tequila and fruity stuff. He had been able to shoot shot after shot of vodka like a pro in college at a season-end celebration.
Art was a tight-lipped man, but he was a giggly drunk who he got pretty comfortable talking out of his ass from behind a glass with an umbrella in it. Art was rarely comfortable with anything, so a drink or two at a party was welcome to him.
Another important point of context is that the largest point of tension between Art and [Y/N] was starting a family. They desperately wanted a child together, but they disagree on when. [Y/N] felt like she was fresh out of college, so she figured they had plenty of time. Art felt that he was fresh out of college, so he figured they may as well get to it.
Their arguments about this were once semi-regular. In the last four months or so, Art timidly bowed out and hoped [Y/N] would tell him when she was ready (sooner rather than later). He got tired of the low-tier shouting matches. Instead, he would pick fights about things that were decidedly lower stakes when he was bored.
Art had let [Y/N] field comments about family planning throughout the night. Unfortunately, when Art was polishing off a second drink, he ran his mouth a little bit.
Knowing he was the designated driver that night, Art did go easy. Art was also, like, five pounds. While he could hold his liquor with grace, he always got giggly. He watched with heavy eyelids as [Y/N] walked away to collect another drink following the dinner portion of the evening. The paper placecards with their shared last name emblazoned on them rested comfortably in Art’s inner jacket pocket to be kept as a memory.
Some guy who sold boat insurance and liked to rub elbows with talent was talking Art’s ear off. Art couldn’t remember his name, but [Y/N] would know it.
This was the precise moment that got Art in trouble.
Because when the guy whose name Art was sure started with an R said: “So! You’re married. When are we going to be seeing a little Donaldson running around?”
Art said:
“Any day now, I hope. Tomorrow. I’m good to go. [Y/N] thinks now’s not a great time for her.”
He had said it with a smirk and a stupid little laugh. It was basically locker room talk. Big deal. He would’ve said it to Patrick with [Y/N] present in the room. This guy wasn’t Patrick and he was technically speaking behind her back.
Art had forgotten how close they were standing to the bar. He had forgotten that the frequency of his pitchy tenor was known to carry. He had forgotten that he was well known to be an instigator of fights even though he never actually threw the first punch. He had forgotten that he hadn’t been whispering. He had forgotten that this guy… Richy? Ronnie? was pretty much a stranger who had no business knowing their business.
Now, Art was sleeping on the couch and his side of the bed was empty.
Jackass.
[Y/N] stared still at the empty bed and didn’t know how to articulate her upset to an Art who had seemingly yet to feel ashamed.
She had a headache and was tired. But sleep wasn’t going to come easy and all she had to look forward to was a hangover.
Art didn’t really snore, but he was a heavy breather when he slept. The lack of his white noise made the A/C blowing and the stairs creaking too loud. Maybe all of this was on [Y/N] for making Art uncomfortable, she dared to think.
Then she reminded herself that it was Art’s fault for talking too much and for drinking when he knew he was supposed to drive home.
[Y/N] rolled over to face away from Art’s spot. All she could think about is how his hands always sleepily pawed at her to pull her back when she got too far away from him before he fell asleep.
“So, what’d you do?” Patrick asked.
“She hates me.” Art replied. It was almost a question.
“I asked what you did, not what she feels. She already told us what she feels and it’s that she hates you.” Patrick stated. When Patrick had stopped through town for a match, he had come by for dinner with, well, his best friends. This had been right after they’d gotten engaged.
Art sniffled. He didn’t want to cry in front of Patrick. Art would sooner cry in front of his own father. Both men would have laughed in his face, but it would have stung more from Patrick. “We got into a fight yesterday. A big one. Like, the first, uh, big one. She’s worried about the f—“
“The future? Please,” Patrick said bitterly. He frowned and his jaw tightened, but he combatted it by tossing Art a smile before the other man noticed the tension. “Stupid. You’re gonna marry her. You’ll play tennis. She’ll do her… columns? Articles. I don’t get what it is that she does—“
“She writes for—“
“Sure, yeah. You’re gonna have two kids so you can each pick a favorite one. And she’s gonna be a pain in your ass forever. Don’t be a pussy.”
Art sniffled again and stared at the floor. “I didn’t mean to do anything wrong. I didn’t think I did,” Art said meekly. “I don’t get it. She gets so mad sometimes. At me.” Patrick stared at him blankly. Art had to know that he was usually at least a little bit the problem.
“Did she do the thing where she calls you a—“
“Shithead bastard?”
“Shithead bastard.” Both boys said at the same time. Art dragged his hands through his hair and looked up at Patrick. Both of them quirked a smirk at the other.
“See,” Patrick started. “You’ll be fine. Fuckin’ go after her.”
“And say what!”
“Uh… ‘I’m sorry?’ You do that kinda shit. She’ll like that.”
It was impossible to know how long [Y/N] laid there. The clock was on Art’s side and she would get spitting mad if she rolled back over.
She could just go downstairs and tell Art to come back to bed. He was probably sleeping just fine.
“Hey, hon, you don’t hate me, right?” Art’s voice whispered in the darkness.
[Y/N] was fairly certain she had imagined it. She had not heard his sweaty feet on the stairs or his fingers against the doorknob. Quickly, [Y/N] whipped over to face the door behind her.
There was Art. His sweatpants sat low on his hips and his shirt was long gone. Clothing didn’t often survive the night on Art’s back.
Really, she couldn’t help but wonder how long it had taken Art to work through coming upstairs so quietly. “Mm?” [Y/N] groaned in question.
Art rocked his right shoulder into the doorway to lean. His arms were crossed and his eyes straight ahead on her from what [Y/N] could tell in the glow of the hallway’s thermostat. “Please just tell me you don’t hate me and I’ll let you go back to sleep. I can’t stop thinking about it.”
With a sigh, [Y/N] sat up and rolled her cracking shoulders back. “I don’t hate you, Art.” Her heart melted a little bit. [Y/N] knew it was immature, but her special attack in arguments since childhood was to bandy around the word hate a lot. Not that she had said it to Art tonight, but she had no doubt said it before. More than once. More times than she could count, maybe.
She was surprised Art had never asked this before. That surprise hurt in an a way that was too complex to describe. “I could never hate you.” [Y/N] continued, voice hushed only because it was dark out.
Art’s posture relaxed slightly. “You promise you don’t?” Said Art’s evermore crippling lack of self-confidence.
“I promise.” [Y/N] replied calmly.
“Okay. Thank you.” Art said in a small voice.
“I love you, baby. I don’t hate you. You shouldn’t have to ask that. I’m sorry I made you feel like you even have to ask that.”
Art frowned sharply. “No, I’m the one that should be sorry. You told me nicely not to talk about—“
“Don’t play that. You have to know you don’t feel like you did anything wrong, so you don’t have to invent a situation where you’re some horrible person.”
Art was silent.
[Y/N] continued. “I’m pissed because you told Randy,” RANDY. His name was RANDY. That’s it. “Our business. My business, really. He’s an asshole. It’s fine. Well, not now, but eventually. But you kinda martyred yourself on it. You don’t have to do that and I don’t hate you. You know I don’t… Right?”
“I’m sorry.” Art said quickly. He was gifted at making every single minor problem his own fault. He knew he was a little bit of an awful person for that, but he would die before admitting it. Art would hide behind his martyring habit as long as his cross could hold him, though. [Y/N] hadn’t noticed before this moment, but she could see the shining of his eyes in the digital blue-green glow. Tears. This time, less than obvious waterworks. Aw.
“I’m sorry. I’m still pissed at you for running your mouth, but I’m sorry too.”
Art nodded, said nothing else and reached for the doorknob.
Here is a frustrating thing about Art.
He said he was going to leave for downstairs once [Y/N] said she didn’t hate him. He started to make good on that vow. If he says something, he’s going to do it, even though he doesn’t have to do it.
“Come on,” [Y/N] called louder than she’d been whispering. “Come here, pretty baby.”
Pretty Baby by Blondie had been their wedding song. She had been calling him that for almost as long as she had known him. Saying it, or hearing the song always made that stunning, small crooked smile stretch up beyond his sad puppy eyes all the way to his ears.
Art’s kryptonite was pretty baby. They both knew it.
He turned to look at her with a slight blush on his cheeks, almost visible in the dark. Art shifted one of his feet childishly over the other in apprehension.. “Don’t make me say it again. I don’t like to ask twice.” [Y/N] reminded him.
After a hasty nod, Art was in bed before he [Y/N] blinked. The blonde sat bolt upright beside [Y/N] with his eyes wide. Hesitant, but coyly so. He knew this pattern. The agony and shame from her brutality would only last so long. Housepets loved to cause trouble for treat.
Not to say that Art liked to start fights so he could play some low-status lapdog that got to feel his wife’s fingers comb through his hair the way he liked as a reward for an apology. The man bit his cheek to avoid a devious smirk. A part of him did like to do that sometimes, though.
He always got away with it. He was such a nice boy.
[Y/N] rolled her eyes and leaned back into the threadbare pillows. With a finger, she beckoned Art nearer. Hesitation eliminated, Art flopped slowly down beside [Y/N]; she on her back, he on his side, facing her. Delicately, Art’s fingers dragged down [Y/N]’s arm to curl in her fingers.
Not long after that, his plush mouth climbed down from her neck. Then shoulders and collarbones. Then bicep. Elbow. Forearm and wrist. Down her hand to her silver-studded ring finger. Each kiss with accompanied with an honest and dutiful I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. He was sorry. Genuinely. Sorry for the upset he brought his wife, but not the cause. Art’s beautiful duel-colored eyes glanced up at [Y/N]’s blown pupils through her own fingers.
“I didn’t mean to talk about you like that… I just… I love you so much that I want more of you. That’s all, honey,” Art laid his head on [Y/N]’s upper chest and his mouth moved against the front of her throat. “I’m just a little stupid, huh…”
Under his lips, Art could feel the rumble of a laugh rip through [Y/N]’s throat. Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair to hold him in place. “Do-don’t talk about yourself like that,” she mumbled and gave his hair a lovely tug with both hands. He whimpered. [Y/N] wanted to bottle that sound. Art would always remember what she said next and how she said it: “Only I get to talk about you like that… St-stupid.”
This was the version of [Y/N] he was going to remember when he thought of her every day for the rest of his life. That sentence, the way her hair hung from where he had pushed it away from her neck. The sting of the cold metal from her wedding ring on the back of his neck and the stone of her engagement ring pressing into where he reached his palm to place his hand over hers. There was just the wrong amount of clothes between them. Her eyes ringed smoky from the makeup smudges and the exhaustion.
“Say it again.” Art whispered, swinging a knee over [Y/N]’s thighs so he could stare down at her. His forehead pressed softly against [Y/N]’s.
[Y/N]’s mouth fell open slightly with a breathy exhalation. Holy shit. “What, pretty baby, you want me to tell you how stupid you are? You like that?” [Y/N] almost whispered into Art’s still lips. He was too shocked to kiss her back, but too turned on to pull away. Art whimpered louder than before. [Y/N] felt him nod.
So she didn’t hold back. “You think I need to punish you after you behaved like that today or something? You need to atone for what a moron you were, shithead?” [Y/N] kept her tone light enough to just about tease as her nose trailed along the side of his. Her objective was to belittle. Her nails slid down Art’s muscular, sturdy back.
They both knew Art was a masochist on his worst days. Did he get off on being degraded sometimes? Sure. But this series of events was ridiculously new and exciting for [Y/N]. And shockingly obviously for Art too.
His hips pressed into her pathetically. “What? Did you need help with something?” She asked innocently when she felt Art’s hard-on against her thigh. [Y/N] kissed him distractingly warmly for how she was treating him. Art’s head spun and he couldn’t seem to make sense of anything anymore. He had backed himself into the best kind of corner.
Across Art’s hips and side went [Y/N]’s left hand, to the front of his sweatpants. Humiliatingly, Art blinked tears out of his eyes and screwed them shut. His mouth opened and closed, but no intelligent sound came out. [Y/N] planted a kiss at the corner of his parted lips. His strong arms boxed [Y/N] protectively in from above, but she had him locked into place, really. “Baby, if you want something, you know you have to ask for it.”
“Nnh,” Art tried, eyes stuck shut. His attention was mostly spent hold himself up over his wife. His insanely gorgeous wife. [Y/N]’s other hand grabbed his jaw tenderly. He still didn’t look at her. Art was gathering his courage. “Yo-you already told me I couldn’t have what I wanted.”
With a sharp inhale, [Y/N] grip went from gentle to nonexistent. At the lack of contact, Art’s damp eyes crept open one at a time to see if his brattiness had overstepped the situation. His frightened eyes caught [Y/N]’s. She popped the side of his face sharply with an open palm. Art blinked and tipped his head to the side like a dog.
That was big trouble, huh?
“Fuck,” he said. Both of them panted in sync. “I’m sorry.” He meant it.
[Y/N] pulled Art’s face to hers and kissed him hard. “I love… you.” She said.
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ʚDAD!SWANSEA X GN!READERɞ + ❀DAISUKE X GN!READER❀
SUMMARY : your dad gets a job in space and returns a bit different, though, at the dinner table he meets someone familiar.
WARNINGS : SPOILERS!!! A little angst.
WORD COUNT : 2,394
A/n : I wrote this cuz some of y'all loved this idea. I didn't edit it so there might be some mistakes.
Click "Keep reading" for more!❀ʚɞ☟
You and your dad had an unbreakable bond. Ever since you came to the family, that man was attached to you by the hip.
He was a typical dad, throwing dad jokes around, carrying you around his shoulders, hanging your silly drawings on the fridge. Yeah, it was safe to say that he made you feel loved.
When your younger siblings came you were more than excited, you tried your best to suppress your happiness when your dad put your baby sister in your arms.
Just a child carrying a baby, how cute, your parents cooed at the sight.
But your dad never stopped giving you attention when your siblings were born, a matter of fact he tried his best to get you to bond with them, and it worked.
The more you grew up, the more you started discovering yourself. Everyday you'd find yourself a new hobby, and that hobby of yours started to show more in your teen years.
Your dad was actually thrilled but didn't show it. Like, one day you made him lunch, the second day you sculpted him, the other day you made him a scarf. Dam, he was proud.
School competitions? Yeah you joined them, and somehow won each single one (just imagine Swansea standing next to you with a smug grin on his face as he looks at the parents of the other contestants).
Then it hit him, it hit your dad that you weren't a child anymore, you were 17, your birthday in a few months. He was a bit heartbroken but knew that's how life is. You reassured him that you'll frequently visit them.
And that's how it went, you moved out, got a job, and started living your own life. But since you never really had any friends besides your co-workers, you payed frequent visits to your family. It was great, sitting at the dinner table and talking about your life and job.
Your mom did ask you about your dating life, it got a little heavy on you, but you did tell her that you were 'waiting for the right moment' and she let go of it.
At the mention of your job, your dad brought up the topic of his new job that he had applied to recently, apparently he was going to be a mechanic in a tulpar or something.
It... Something felt wrong, your gut was telling you that there was something wrong with what your dad had applied to. You brushed it off as you had nothing to say about it.
Until that day came, the day your dad left for the job. Before he went he spend a good time around you and your siblings. You made sure to hug him tight before he left, he joked about wanting to find a grandchild when he comes back from the job, which made your mom and sisters tease you about it.
Then he left...
For a few months nothing seemed out of the ordinary. You leave for work, hang out with your colleagues then visit your family. Nothing unusual.... Right?
It was when you stepped inside your family's home, a box of baked goods in your hands as you sat on the couch. Your sister practically snatched the box out of your grasp and inhaled half of the box's content.
You really didn't care as an uneasy feeling crept up your stomach. Brushing it off you looked at your mom who was busy on her phone. Taking a hold of the remote, you scrolled through channels, from one to the other. You kinds zoned out a bit, snapping back to reality when your mom dropped her phone, staring at the TV with a mortified expression. Looking at the TV screen, the colors on your face drained as you listened to the reporter's words.
The tulpar went missing...
Without missing a beat, you rushed to the bathroom and threw up from shock.
Why... Didn't you stop him from going?...
We're you scared that you'll come off as paranoid?...
Scared that you'll come off as clingy?...
Scared of disappointing your dad?...
Now look, he's now in the middle of space, in the middle of god knows where with limited food and resources to survive!
You were disappointed in yourself, you could've stopped him but you didn't.
After the incident, you quit your job and moved back to your old home to support your family. It wasn't easy, just thinking about what might've happened to your dad made you sick.
You'd gotten yourself a new job near your home. You were in control of the house now. Your mom became less energetic than she used to be, but you didn't care, you let her rest and have some time for herself.
As for your younger sisters, they started skipping school a lot, you went to the school yourself, to try to explain the situation to the school council to at least have some empathy for your sisters.
It was a draining job, you felt yourself become less and less bubbly than what you used to be. Your manager noticed it and decided to give you a break.
You wanted to cry, everything about this was overwhelming. You missed your dad, the guilt was eating you alive. Why did things go so wrong?
And that became your routine, maybe drive your sisters to school, comfort your mom, do your chores then lay on bed and cry yourself to sleep.
It was like your hope was completely shattered. You became more depressed those passing days, neglecting your own needs as you were busy helping out your family. Your mom took notice and tried helping you, pulling herself together so you can at least have a rest from all of this.
But what did you know? No one knows where your dad is, and it's your fault. You could've stopped him. But here we are.
Now you laid on the couch, staring at the ceiling just hoping something good would happen to at least give you some motivation to stay alive.
A slam from the door made you jolt up. You looked up to find your mom looking sweaty and rushed. When she saw you she screamed at you to get in the car. Absolutely freaked up, you sat in the passenger seat as she drove.
You were sure the police would pull you over at any moment by how fast your mom was driving, maybe crash into a few cars, but she didn't and that was good.
When she parked the car you found yourself at a hospital. Your mom dragged you there with her as she went to the elevator. Now inside, she stood there, shaking up. You wanted to ask her what had happened but didn't as your voice was stuck inside.
As soon as the elevator door open, you were dragged again to a room. Your heart was beating fast, your body sweating a bit from anxiousness.
The nurses let you inside the room. Scanning the room, you felt your jaw drop, there was your dad, sitting on the hospital bed with his left eye remaining and a scar on his forehead. Your eyes became hot with tears as your legs made you move to your father.
You immediately dropped your head on his lap as you sobbed. You felt like a kid again, as if you've woken up from a nightmare and went for your parents for comfort.
I mean... It was some sort of nightmare....
You managed to calm down a little. You felt your dad's hand on your head, patting you.
Moving to sit on the chair that the nurse provided you with, you looked up, seeing your dad stare at you.
"So, any grandchildren?..." You started crying again.
Your mental health have started to get better when your dad came back, your younger sisters were sobbing hard when they saw dad alive and well.
Seeing everything now back to normal, you suggested you move out again since you've done your job, but you had no other choice as you were forced to stay by your parents.
Now in a better mental state, you quite your job and got a new one at a cafe. You enjoyed your time there with your new co-workers. The customers were nice as well. It's as if a weight was lifted off your back.
Working at that cafe, you've met many lovely customers, but one had caught your attention. He came to the cafe every week, would order something then sit at one of the tables and do his thing.
He had brown hair, brown eyes, a scar in the middle of his face and some moles. He was cute. Wait what.
You never had an eye for anyone, so whys a random guy that visits your cafe suddenly cute? Weird...
Whatever, but these days, you've noticed something about him, he never orders, unless you were the one taking orders, you also noticed how he'd always tip you, despite your job paying you well. Does he.. Like you?.. Nah there's no way.
It was raining heavily outside, there was barely any customers, so you took your time to clean up the tables. You then made your way back to the register, made yourself something to drink as you waited for a customer.
Soon, the door bell rang, looking up from your phone you found no other than... Him.
"Hi what can I get for you?.." God your tone sounded rude, gotta work on that voice..
"Oh hey uhh, the usual you know.." He said awkwardly, scratching his head before looking away, sliding the cash on the surface of the register.
The usual was caramel frappe, sweeter than normal and some heated molten, he got a sweet tooth...
While doing his order you snuck glances at him, just to find him staring back.
Now placing his order in a tray, you made your way towards him, setting the tray down, you steadied your feet to walk away. "Hey! I'm sorry.."
You looked at him, he was wobbling in his seat as he tried to find his words. "So uhm... Can we.. Get to know each other?..."
Looking around the place, it was still empty, no customers, even if there was a customer, your co-worker Matthew would've delt with them so... You sat with him on the table.
The conversation was awkward at first, he confirmed your name and introduced himself. The conversation escalated quickly, you found out that you had a lot in common, you both the same age as well as you both had a passion for art.
You found yourself giggling at his jokes, amused by his humor. He also asked a lot about your interests, and like that you began to explain everything to him. Although, you were avoiding eye contact with him as he kept staring at you the entire time and you felt shy.
The night passed quickly, before he left, he handed you a pink envelope before walking out the door. Looking at the clock, your shift was going to end in a few minutes. You were curious about the envelope. Impatience and curiosity are the worst combos, being both, you opened up the envelope to find...
A detailed sketch of you, behind it he wrote his number and asked if he can go out sometimes...
Your heart skipped a beat when your brain processed everything. That night, you came home all giggly and smiley, your family took notice of that but didn't comment.
In the past new days, your family, especially your dad, took notice of your change.
At first, you didn't have a big skin care routine, but now, every morning, you're up early making sure everything's nice. Same with your clothes, you didn't pay much attention to your looks, now you're over here making sure you didn't wear the same fit twice.
Sometimes your parents caught you packing food in a tupperware while going out.
Something was off...
While your family wondered what you were up to, you were enjoying your time with Daisuke.
Few dates from time to time escalated to daily ones. He'd take you out to movies, restaurants, parks and cafes. He was a gentleman, doing cliche things to you every now and then.
He holds the door open for you, feed you sometimes, share his food with you and hold you close.
He started inviting you over to his place, it's when you started packing food you'd make for him.
And yeah, he's touchier in private, whenever you're at his place he's technically glued to you. Cuddling was his favorite thing to do whenever you watch a movie.
Not gonna forget to mention the gifts. He's always making you something. Either a drawing or some origami, and you loved them.
It took the both of you a few weeks to get comfortable with each other, with that, Daisuke started planting kisses on you everywhere, forehead, cheeks, lips, neck and hand.
And those weeks made you comfortable enough to tell your family about your new partner. You arranged a day for them to meet him and get to know him. Your dad was the one that suggested that idea, as he wanted to know if that boyfriend of yours was a real one or not.
Telling Daisuke about it, he was more than thrilled about the idea, he even asked you what outfit he should put on. It was quite the show. And the day finally came...
You, your mom and your sisters stared at the two scarred men in front of you. They were holding some... Intense eye contact.
Your dad's expression was unreadable while Daisuke pressed his lips together, a smile forming on his face as he tried to prevent himself from laughing.
"Pfft... L-long time no see..." Daisuke muttered before bursting into a fit of laughs. Snapping your head at your boyfriend, you looked back and forth at him and your dad.
"Wha- wait you know each other?!.." You asked, looking at your dad whos face-palming. "Yes.."
The dinner table was full of conversations, one side from Daisuke and how he was at the tulpar, the other Swansea exposing him and spilling the embarrassing things Daisuke had done.
After all, you all enjoyed the evening together. (But Swansea kept asking you for grandchildren)
#mouthwashing#mouthwashing game#mouthwashing spoilers#mouthwashing x reader#mouthwashing x you#mouthwashing x gn reader#swansea mouthwashing#daisuke mouthwashing#mouthwashing swansea#mouthwashing daisuke#swansea#daisuke#dad swansea#bf daisuke#swansea x reader#mouthwashing swansea x reader#daisuke x reader#mouthwashing daisuke x reader#swansea x gn reader#daisuke x gn reader#platonic#you started calling daisuke foamboy after hearing about it lol#swansea wasn't disappointed just wondering how daisuke found his way back to him#swansea is actually waiting for yall to get married
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RUMOUR HAS IT — alessia russo x leah williamson x child!reader
couldn't not write this blurb icl-
grumpy masterlist
you were running after winnie down the corridor, the brown lab with her squeaky toy clasped in her mouth as she ran in front of you, a game of chase the two of you did regularly. but you always had to be careful you didn't run too fast in case you hurt yourself — mummy's orders!
"win slow down!" you giggled as you ran a little more, your lungs beginning to gasp for air as your legs slowed. "who's winning chase?" a voice said further down the long stretch of the corridor, winnie having stopped a little bit in front of you.
you looking up and seeing beth with her signature grin on her face as she happily walked down the corridor, winnie meeting her halfway as she begins to pet the brown lab. win rolling on her back in order to get her belly rubs.
you walk the short distance as you caught your breath back to join in on the affection, as you hugged beth’s leg in a form of greeting. noticing as beth leans slightly over you to tickle win's tummy a ring on her finger which you hadn't seen before.
"when did you get that?" that asked pointing to the ring as beth straightened up looking at her hand you'd just pointed at.
"get what? this ring?" beth asked as she pointed to the small glittery ring which was on her finger, a very pretty ring in your mind, as you nodded curious as to where it had came from.
"it's a promise ring" beth explained as you looked at her a little strangely not understanding the concept of a promise ring. your brain filled with little questions very quickly, what did the ring promise?
beth sensing your confusion as you looked at her with a puzzled look, a small smile appearing as beth continued. "my vivvy got me it as a way to show that she promises to always love me even though we don't see each other as often anymore"
a small hum came from you as you sort of understood but still didn't really understand why beth needed a ring to know that but you let that thought pass, "mummy has a promise ring like that, le got her it!"
"does she now?" beth asked her eyebrows raising at the new information on her teammate, "and whose le?" beth added, not hearing the name before as you gave flashed her a dumbfounded look.
"you know le!" you giggled thinking beth was just joking with you and pretending not to know who leah was, but instead it was beth's turn to look puzzled.
"i do?" beth said as she tried to think of who went by the name of le.
"yes! leah one?" you stated like it was the most obvious thing on earth, and it kind of was.
“mhm, yeah but why is leah getting your mummy a promise ring?” beth questioned as you shrugged slightly before perking up with an answer.
“cause there special friends!” you smiled as beth opened her mouth to ask what a special friend was before you cut her off, “like you and viv!”
beth hummed realising now that a special friend was a girlfriend. “is that so”
you nodded a you watched winnie begin to get up and stretch before flopping back down near you as you started to stroke her again.
“is viv coming back this weekend?” you asked totally changing the topic as beth’s mind was still wiring with questions about the new romance of your mummy and leah.
“oh i’m not sure tiny, but when’s she back down i’ll make sure we stop for a visit so you can see her” beth ruffled your hair as you sat on the ground with win as you whispered out a small yay.
beth quickly leaving you to carry on your game with winnie as she skipped down the corridor with her new and found information, wondering how true it was. so who better to ask than either alessia or leah themselves which ever one she saw first.
but what you didn't know as beth skipped off down the corridor is that you had just blurted your mummy's relationship out to the team blabber mouth.
-
after finding out her recent news, beth wanted confirmation before she had the chance to spread it. wanting more of a fact check. beth skipping into the canteen where alessia was sat, headphones on laptop out coupled with a coffee as she typed away more than likely doing some sort of work to finish off her degree.
beth slotting down in a chair opposite with a big grin plastered on her face, as alessia looked up a blank expression on her face as she read beth's, having a feeling she wasn't going to like the conversation with the devilish look that beth had.
lifting her coffee to her mouth as she took a slip waiting for beth to start whatever she had to say.
"so miss russo, rumour has it you have a special friend in the form of a blonde defender who's name starts with l- and ends in -eah” beth grinned skipping the whole small talk thing and getting to the point as alessia's face dropped as she begins to cough.
"less? woah are you okay?" beth asks concerned momentarily filling her as she watches, alessia holding her hand up to give her self a minute as she catches her breath again after choking on her coffee from the abruptness of beth's statement.
"and where did you hear this rumour?" alessia questions having a few ideas in mind but one name stood out a little more than the others.
"oh just a certain someone" beth mumbled as alessia eye brows rose, her suspicions rising about who had slipped the information to beth being confirmed just from the fact that beth would say the name.
"lovie?" alessia blankly said as beth immediately began to shake her head rattle out an excuse as she began to back peddle.
“what- no? i didn’t even know she was here! i- i haven’t even see her?” beth lied as a small chuckle came from alessia as she lowered the screen of her laptop, alessia knowing otherwise.
“beth. you know she’s here. i’ve seen you running around with her and win” alessia smiled as beth sighed sinking back into her seat.
“ah- so maybe i have seen her but i never said i’d spoken to her!” beth smugly smiled as she thought she’d fooled alessia with her smart response but the look alessia was giving the winger said different. alessia knew that you must have let it slip about her and leah as you were the only one that knew apart form leah.
“ok ok, you got me! tiny may have let it slip that you had a special friend” beth sulked a little her mission of trying to be slick had failed — miserably at that. alessia shaking her head slightly at beth’s attempts.
“so is it true?” beth blurted out as alessia looked on a little strange forgetting totally what the forefront of the conversation actually was.
“what?”
“you and leah?” beth asked as alessia hummed nodding a little grin appearing on her face at the mention of her lover. as beth threw a few teasing comments.
“please don’t mention it to the others yet, we’re keeping it on the low for now” alessia quickly slipped in as before she started telling beth the in and outs that she would more than likely ask about anyway even if alessia didn’t tell her.
“less, don’t worry i’m brilliant at keeping secrets!” beth assured with a cute smile as she held alessia’s hands in hers as she made her comment. secrets and beth didn’t go very well together..
-
alessia was packing up her bag for the day, vic having already took the blondes car keys and you to the car but alessia knew she would no doubt find you and vic playing some sort of game in the car park but with the two of you out the way it would give the alessia a few minutes of peace.. she thought.
until she felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist, alessia immediately knowing who it was as there was only one person who wrapped their arms around her waist and smelt the way leah did.
alessia sinking into her touch as leah peppered a few kisses to alessia’s neck, a small sigh coming from her as leah did so before she placed her head on alessia’s shoulder.
“oh love, before you go why did i have katie asking if me and you were in a relationship” leah whispered as a loud groan came from alessia.
“wait till i get my hands on beth-“ alessia grumbled as a small chuckle came from leah at alessia’s sudden threat.
“i’m lost, what does beth have to do with this?” leah asked taking her hands from around alessia’s waist and sitting on the bench where alessia’s things were sprawled out, most of it admittingly being yours.
“beth was asking about us this morning as lovie let it slip this morning about us being ‘special friends’ and beth promised me she would tell anyone” alessia explained as a loud laugh came from leah as alessia twisted a face at her girlfriend.
“wow, she kept that secret for a while!” leah joked as alessia hummed her eyes widening. “didn’t she!”
“no like she did, i’m surprised it’s taken four hours to do its rounds!” leah said seriously as a small nod of the head and giggle came from alessia as she’d finished packing up.
“well i better go and see what the two children are doing in my car!” alessia smiled as leah was now the one to look at alessia with a strange look.
“two children? i thought you only had one?”
“that was a joke le- lovie and vic are waiting in my car” alessia cleared up the confusion as it dawned on leah. alessia pecking her on the lips before leah waved her goodbye, telling her other half that she’d meet her at home a little later on.
#alessia russo x y/n#alessia russo#alessia russo x reader#leah williamson x reader#leah williamson#beth mead#woso community#woso x reader#woso#woso imagine#woso blurbs#awfc#arsenal women#arsenal wfc#grumpy universe#enwoso
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The Best Friend Showdown
Season four had many, many flaws. One of the big ones was the Rena Rouge vs Chat Noir conflict where Ladybug starts relying on Alya more and more, basically using her to replace Master Fu. We get a sense that Chat Noir feels inferior to Rena Rouge because of this change, but it’s never directly addressed. The most we get is this conversation from Hack-San:
Ladybug: I'm really sorry, Cat Noir. I should've told you. I mean, if I found out that you told someone about your secret identity, I'd... probably be upset, too. I'm really sorry I hurt your feelings. Cat Noir: You didn't hurt my feelings. You did everything right.
Which is actually a really weird bit of dialogue because - as far as I can tell - nothing in the episode revealed that Scarabella knew Ladybug's identity. She hands out miraculous all the time and no one knows who she really is. Why would this time be different? Ladybug could just show up in costume, explain what's up, and then hand off the earrings while using yet another miraculous.
Anyway, the Rena Rouge vs Chat Noir conflict is “resolved” by Rena Rouge being outed again (and I guess that matters this time), leading her to give up her miraculous so that Gabriel can’t steal it away, which of course leads Gabriel to steal it away and fully disempower Ladybug’s larger team, leaving Chat Noir her only teammate.
How satisfying! This is such good, character-driven story telling!
It’s not. This is plot contrivances to the max with no meaningful character beats, but we’re not here to talk about that. We’re here to do one of my favorite things: gush about a relevant Kim Possible episode! Today’s topic is episode 12 of season one: Pain King vs. Cleopatra, the episode that introduces Kim’s female BFF, Monique!
This was a bit of a shocker for me because I didn’t realize that Kim and Monique weren’t pre-series friends. Turns out that, much like Alya, Monique is a new girl, which isn’t a bad call. This was a nice way to delay Monique’s introduction for a few episodes so that the writers could focus on establishing Kim’s relationship with other key members of the cast like her partner, Ron. Spacing out your intros is the way to go whenever you can pull it off as it’s a kindness to your audience that keeps them from feeling overwhelmed, making it more likely that they’ll remember your cast.
The other, more important similarity between Alya and Monique is that, when Kim’s hero partner and life-long friend finds out about Monique, he is less than thrilled:
Kim: I barely got to see them. Right after I hooked up with Monique, the museum was robbed by some glowing-headed animal guy. Ron: Oh, that's nice. Ron: Wait a minute, who's Monique? Kim New friend, really great. Anyway, the thief stole an enchanted ancient talisman. Ron: Whoa, whoa, back up! How can I not know about a new friend? Kim: I met her at Club Banana, then again at the museum before I chased the glowing robber. Ron: So what's she like? Kim: The robber? Ron: The friend, Kim, the "new friend".
Throughout the episode, Kim and Monique continue to bond without Ron, leaving Ron feeling left out:
Ron: Seein' a pattern here, Rufus: Kim does her thing, I do my thing, and pretty soon - we're doing different things.
Which leads him to get a little territorial:
Kim Ron! What are you doing here? Ron: Can I dine with my best friend and her new friend? Kim: Uuh, Ron, Monique, and vice versa. Ron: Bearclaw? Monique: No, thanks, I'm vegetarian. Ron: Uhm, I'm pretty sure it's imitation bear? Kim: She's joking, Ron. Ron: Good one, hahaha, ha, good one. So, did Kim tell you that I'm her sidekick? Cause that role is definitely taken by me. Monique: Riiiight. Well, in... you know I better get to class. Later, Kim. Um, n-nice meeting you, Ron. Ron: Likewise, I'm sure! Kim: What is your problem? You're acting really weird. Ron: Well, let's see. You went to the museum with Monique, not me. Monique was with you this morning, not me. Hmm, pattern? Kim: Yeah. You. Weird. Ron: No, we're drifting apart because you're excluding me. Kim: I am not excluding you. It's just that you and Monique are... different.
Noticing some similarities to Miraculous here?
So how does Kim Possible resolve this conflict?
Well, the plot of this episode resolves around Kim Possible’s version of professional wrestling, the GWA. There’s a competition going on that Kim has no interest in watching (mood), but when Kim mentions the GWA to Monique:
Monique: Why didn't you bring [Ron] along? Kim: Unless someone put a waiter in a headlock, this is definitely not Ron's scene. Besides, he had a date with "Steel Toe". Monique: He scored tickets to Mayhem in Middleton? The GWA rocks! Kim: What?
It turns out that Monique and Ron have a shared interest! Multiple shared interests, in fact! Interests that Kim does not share:
Monique: You know, I still can't believe you met Pain King and Steel Toe. Ron: I can't believe you're into wrestling. Kim: I can't believe I know either one of you.
By the end of the episode, the conflict is resolved not with Kim having to pick a BFF or with Monique somehow being demoted, but by showing that this didn’t need to be a conflict at all. Kim can have multiple close friends that she shares different interests with without any of those friends being lesser. Those friends can, in turn, have their own friendships that don’t always involve her.
It’s a genuinely lovely resolution that makes me love this little friend group because it now has added complexity. Monique and Ron are friends in their own right! Kim is not the center of the universe in spite of her main character status!
I also love that Kim isn’t vilified for having other friends or portrayed as constantly leaving Ron out of things that he'd want to do in favor of Monique. Ron genuinely would not enjoy most of the things that the girls love to do together. At the same time, Ron’s feeling aren’t treated as totally irrational either and Kim even admits to ditching him. It’s a genuine, complex conflict that is super common when someone enters a new relationship be it platonic or romantic.
Obviously Kim Possible’s version of this conflict feels far less complex than Miraculous’ because Kim Possible understood that Ron should be Kim’s one-and-only partner, so his position was really never threatened. Monique does not want to be an action hero and is never given the sort narrative weight that elevates her to Ron’s level or higher, but that doesn't matter. The basic lesson here is still relevant and super important for the intended audience of both of these shows.
There did not need to be a Rena Rouge vs Chat Noir conflict that never got properly resolved. Miraculous could have made these two friends and no, Scarabella doesn't count because Chat Noir has no idea that Scarabella is Rena Rouge/Furtive. Their relationship ended at the end of Hack-San. He didn't even know that Rena Furtive was a thing until she was in the process of being benched and that's the problem.
Kim Possible is not a team show, Miraculous is, and yet Kim Possible has better team dynamics than Miraculous. Monique could have joined Kim's team at the end of Pain King vs. Cleopatra and it would have felt natural because both Kim and Ron had welcomed Monique and formed a genuine bond with her. This is a true friend group that Miraculous can only dream of even though they've been adding new superheroes since season two.
We're going into a season with a full, massive team and yet that team has no established dynamics on the hero side. It's not a functional team! None of these characters have meaningful relationships with each other as heroes save for Alya and Nino since they know each other’s secret identities. The only relationships Miraculous cares about are the various romances and everyone's relationship to Marinette and everyone suffers for it.
The show would not have been harmed by Rena Rouge, Chat Noir, and Ladybug being a team. It was the thing I kept think after watching the Kim Possible episode. Since the team is the end game, why aren't we seeing them? It would have been so nice to have Hack-San end with Ladybug introducing Chat Noir to Rena Furtive instead of a nonsense discussion about an issue the episode didn't even address.
#ml writing critical#ml writing salt#kim possible#marinette deserves better#adrien deserves better#alya deserves better#you said you wanted more KP gushing so here you go!#I was originally going to wait until my ask list died down but who knows when that will happen#And I wanted to do something a little more positive because I like gushing!#I'm critical because miraculous is bad not because I like being critical
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Minors DNI - 18+ - Explicit Sexual Content - 4,6k words Attention: Mentions of fictional Witchcraft and Voodoo (I know this is a very sensitive topic, which is why I threaded very vaguely and lightly. I mean absolutely NO disrespect to either of those spiritualities)
Master of Puppets
You paced nervously through your room. The clock ticked the safe seconds away, the seconds Alastor where wasn't here. The seconds where Alastor didn't know.
He liked you, of course. At least enough to experiment with you, that much you could say with confidence. He had shown interest in the little witch inventor that joined the hotel, sharing the same proficiency in magic as himself. Although, unlike him, you had been an eclectic witch in your lifetime, and used more traditional western magic, whereas Alastor wasn't familiar with that, relying fully on voodoo practices he learned from the women of his family. So, you taught him and he taught you, and over the shared hours of lessons, discussions and practices, things got more and more... handsy. Until one day even the last gap between you was closed, and before both of you knew it you were sharing a bed more often than a book on sigils or rituals.
It was a mutual thing. You were insanely attracted to him, and he liked you well enough to indulge in activities he'd normally frown upon. Which made you feel special - It didn't soothe the nerves though, as you fumbled around with the little objects in the black carved box, making sure everything was perfect, before hastily slamming it shut when you heard knocks on the door.
"Yes?" you said, as if you hadn't been expecting him, as if your heart wasn't trying to leap out of your chest.
"Darling, it's me! May I come in?" you heard him say, and the door opening before you could answer. "I hope I'm not too early."
You turned around, giving him a shy smile after glancing at the clock on the wall. "You're right on time, as always."
"Punctuality is one of the only virtues I try uphold." He took a few steps towards you. "Is everything alright? You look nervous."
"Do I? It's... Nothing. I just have... I'm excited for something to show to you."
"Really?" He was intrigued, leaning in a little. "Well, now I'm curious. Is it the skinning spell you've been working on? I might have some test subjects in mind, if you are already finished."
You cleared your throat, feeling your heart beating painfully in your chest. "Not quite. I made something new, though."
"Oh?" he said, tilting his head to the side. "What is it?"
You fidgeted, not knowing how to start, how to ease him into it. He was a man that didn't appreciate if one beat around the bush, so better to rip the band-aid off in one violent, leap-of-faith-kind of way. You went to the black box, fingers trembling as you lifted the golden hatch, and before you could change your mind and call the whole thing off you scooped the small voodoo dolls out and held them out to him.
"I made these. For you... Us."
He was taken aback for a moment, not saying anything as he stared at the two little cloth figures, then down at you. They were intricately made replicas of you both, you had spent hours and hours sewing them, even going so far as to design and make identical outfits for them. He took both of them out of your hands, turning them slowly in his own, examining them with a frighteningly unreadable look.
"So you solely tried your hands on my profession I see. Why?" his eyes were boring into you, the smile on his face tight and tense, and you had to fight yourself not to stutter.
"I-I figured..." You swallowed hard. "I thought it could help us to... to be closer. More connected, in a way. And I thought you would like to... try this."
He blinked slowly, and the grin he wore stretched a bit further, the static getting louder in your ears. You were starting to think he didn't like it. You were starting to regret this.
"It is an unusual gift." His voice was calm, laced with a hint of curiosity, but you still couldn't relax. "Quite a surprise, too."
"Is that good or bad?" you asked, and he chuckled softly.
"I don't know, darling. That depends on how it will be used." He holds up your miniature, his brows raised expectantly. "Tell me how it works."
"Uh... Well, it's more of a mix between your and my magic. T-they have some of my spells sewn into them, and then I enchanted them on your altar. All that's left to do is to tie a hair around the neck of it and offer a drop of blood, and... we will be able to feel anything that's done to the doll."
"Feel?" He cocked his head to the side, eyes gleaming with dark excitement.
"Anything." Your throat was dry, the words almost catching there.
"That sounds positively delightful."
Your heart did a flip in your chest as his voice lowered into a purr, his eyes fixed on the tiny you, the static rising around him. He was captivated, but also suspicious, and that didn't make your anxiety lessen one bit. More so as he found the red stain on your dolls chest and the shimmer of a hair around its neck. Your version of a peace offering.
"It seems this little thing is already prepared and ready to use, isn't it, dearest?" he hummed, looking at you, the smile stretching wide and showing his sharp teeth.
"Yes... if you wanted to... see how it worked first. To decide whether you want to give it a try."
He laughed, and the sound made you shiver. There was no humor in it, but sheer anticipation. Hunger. "Well then. Better not waste such a generous opportunity."
He sat his own replica down on the nightstand next to your bed, and settled down on the mattress, patting the spot next to him for you to join. You did, sitting as stiff as a board, your eyes trained on him as he looked down at your little doll. He seemed to contemplate for a moment, before running his fingers across the doll's body, and you gasped.
All your hard work evidently payed off - The touch felt eerily real. Warm, like the heat of his hands was spreading all over you, a soft caress up the middle of your stomach, a tickle around your waist. His fingertips traveled upward, pressing softly against your chest, and your breath stocked in your lungs.
"You've really outdone yourself with this one darling. So receptive..." Alastor's smile widened into a full grin, and the fact that he didn't need to touch your skin to see the blush creeping across your cheeks was one detail he seemed to particularly enjoy. The rough feeling of his claws grating against you was replaced with the hot touch of phantom lips, pressing gently against your neck as he pulled the small shirt collar aside, his tongue licking across the doll's shoulder.
The sensation almost felt out of place in comparison, making you fall onto your back with a gasp, into the soft covers of your bed, unable to maintain any sort of composure. Instead of feather light touches, his mouth felt way heavier on your skin than it should. Warm, wet... As he scraped his teeth along the little doll's neck, a low moan slipped between your lips.
"And what attention to details. It's almost a shame to ruin your hard work, but oh well."
His eyes stayed on you as he hooked a fingertip under the dolls garments, cutting it clean off of it, and even though yours stayed fully intact - what you were feeling was a whole different story. Your eyes betrayed you: Even fully clothed you felt the cool air of your room on your skin, you felt exposed, bare and utterly vulnerable. It made your skin break out in goosebumps and your lips part in an unstifled sound of arousal.
"Gorgeous, darling... Absolutely wonderful. A truly masterful piece of magic." The tone of his voice was tingling all over you, a mixture of warm affection and dark cravings. You had never been one to enjoy being praised by a man, but it made you close your eyes and squirm with absolute and desperate need when it came from Alastor. Mouth already open to say something, the words died in your throat, replaced by a high whine when you felt a wet sensation traveling over your stomach down to the inside of your thighs. Your eyes snapped open, finding Alastor's again, his irises practically glowing and locked on you as he ran his tongue all the way across the small body. Teasing. Playing. He narrowed his eyes and traced every curve with the same meticulous patience you knew him for, the sensation sending shocks of excitement and adrenaline through you as it circled the dolls skin, drawing closer and closer to the most intimate parts, until there was nowhere else to trail, nowhere else for it to run to. He stopped, leaving you flushed and panting and shattered next to him on the bed.
"My, my, sweetheart..." he cooed, poking the little doll in his hands into it's side with the softest touch, making you jerk into his side. "At this rate, this seems more like a gift for you than for me."
The blush on your face deepened and you averted your eyes. "...You're probably not wrong."
"No, I'd say I am absolutely right," he chuckled, shifting closer and tracing a hand up your body and to your throat in a smooth motion, and your body arched into the touch with the ease of a moth to flame. For a moment, he didn't move, resting his claws wrapped around your neck, his fingertips heavy on your skin. He seemed to weight his options, deciding on how to proceed. Finally, he leaned into you, bringing his lips closer to yours and when he spoke it was barely a whisper.
"I'll trust you to rectify this circumstance then."
Your eyes widened when he stood up, gently placing your doll down and switching its place with his own. You sat up, watching how he carefully plucked a hair from his head, wrapping it tightly around the neck of his miniature alter ego. It looked almost sinfully elegant and downright seductive, how his long fingers tied it tightly, before he turned back to you, his grin splitting his face in half. There was something in his expression you haven't seen before - hesitancy. It was only a second, but you still held your breath as it passed, and he chuckled as he bit his lip, dark, almost black blood dripping onto the chest of the doll in his hands.
"A rare occasion for me to spill blood. I hope you'll make it worth it."
You swallowed heavily and he grinned, reaching for your hand and gently putting the doll on your palm, giving you a stern, commanding look. "My turn."
You nodded as he settled himself on your bed, now stretching himself fully on the mattress. Lifting your other hand you carefully laid one finger on top of his dolls' throat, before drawing your fingers across and down, over its chest and its sides, making his form shiver and his ears twitch. As you undid the small coat and shirt, dragging your nail gently over the dolls abdomen, Alastor gave a resounding, pleased sigh. You stared at him in wonder of your own work, silently asking yourself if your touches on the fabric in your hands felt as intensified as his did on yours before.
With a spark of nervous excitement you followed a whim of insanity, a quick glance confirming Alastor had his eyes closed. He had never before allowed you to touch his ears - now, their artificial counterparts were at your fingertips, and with a racing heart, you drew a stroke from the base of his ear right across its entire length, all the way until the fine point. A loud, drawn-out groan filled the room and your cheeks burnt crimson when his back arched and his hands twitched towards you, the knuckles white as he clenched them into fists, a tremor going through his shoulders. The groan ended in a long whine, the eyes snapping open and locking right into yours, and your breath hitched as you saw the smoldering embers. His grin grew tighter, strained, and he inhaled deeply through his nostrils, and the intensity of his gaze made your stomach drop, your whole body feeling exposed and naked despite still being fully dressed.
"Testy little thing. Always going for most dangerous experiments..." He shook his head as he exhaled slowly, his breath ragged and labored and in the soft illumination of your bedside lamp his neck was dusted a light pink. You marveled for a second, mesmerized. That was, until his tone dropped an octave, making your body snap back to attention, your nipples hardening painfully beneath your clothes. "How about another then, darling. You do that again..." His shadow tendrils shot out from nowhere, wrapping around your waist and thighs and lifting you over his face as you yelped and almost let the doll slip from your hands, the hem of your skirt pushed aside and heated core right above his watering mouth. "...while I do this."
With no time left for a reply, you felt your flimsy panties flicked aside and your body lowered onto his waiting tongue, all thought replaced by a sudden wave of blinding ecstasy. There was something truly addicting about the heat and hunger of his lips, the way they locked around your clit and sucked you down in the best form of torturous pain like life depended on it, his nails digging into your hips with force, while your brain was practically erasing every input but the burning sensation below. The doll in your hands, pressed to your heaving chest, was long forgotten as your head fell back and each swipe of his cursed appendix sent a shockwave through your spine. You groaned, you whimpered, and Alastor could taste the waves of delicious agony on his tongue. When he withdrew, the loss of his wet heat and the chill of the cool air against your slick folds made you almost break out in tears.
"Focus, dearest, on the task I gave you. Or do I have to repeat myself?"
The growl in his voice snapped you out of it and made you take a shaky breath before you finally composed yourself. Your fingers trembled as they grazed the tips of the dolls ears again, your movements almost trance like as your whole body yearned for it to return onto his lips. Alastor's brows furrowed, lips pursed for a second as you drew a slow, sensual line up the miniatures length, stopping and softly kneading at the pointed tip.
"Good girl." he murmured, voice breathy, and for a second you could have sworn you saw his eye twitch, though his grin stayed firmly plastered onto his face. His words sent an instantaneous warmth pooling in your lower stomach, and your chest fluttered as you tried to swallow down the intense elation that shot through your veins at those words - the same words Alastor used when you mastered one of his magical exercises, and although the praise was always flattering, in this context it felt downright lewd and utterly divine to be called that. When your hand lowered a bit, massaging the base of the dolls ears, Alastor's noises became low growls and deep purrs around the wet skin his lips devoured. The black vines on your waist and legs tightened their grip as well, pushing you deeper down onto his mouth.
You hadn't even registered what happened, but with a snap your top was ripped in the front, the clasp of your bra followed, and the familiar humming sound of his static made you squeal in surprise when his voice was suddenly much louder, his tongue shoved into you as far as he could go and his shadows ripping your clothes off at lightning speed. With both hands stroking, massaging and pulling the dolls ears now, the pure pleasure hitting you was almost too much, but as much as your hands ached for the real thing, to run your nails over the red fluff and trace the soft curves and edges of the dark antlers growing on the sides of his head, all you could do was imagine, with all your fingers on the dolls soft material instead and moving furiously up and down its head, to do exactly the same thing.
Alastor growled underneath you, the sound deep and rumbling, sending vibrations through your trembling thighs and against your sensitive skin, and it sounded so much more desperate and disoriented than you had ever heard from him before. Had you been looking down, had you been able to see anything beyond the mind-shattering pleasure, the wide blown pupils and the unfocused gaze in the glowing red irises, you might have wondered why that was - Alastor's control was slipping, and his smile finally was showing that.
In an instant your body was turned and placed on your back, your limbs shaking in the grip of his shadows and body utterly at the mercy of the tall red man leaning over you and undoing his bow tie with the rapidity and precision of a professional magician. His hair had gotten a little ruffled in the process, and his red shirt hung open and wrinkled against his skin.
"A compelling exercise indeed, my dear." he spoke, the rasp in his tone and the ragged breath accentuating his words. With a swift movement his jacket joined the shirt and harness that already had been thrown onto the floor somewhere, and then the shadows were back and prodding against the soaked cloth, the only thing left around your hips. They snuck into every slit they could find, exposing more and more of you, while their owner's gaze hungrily devoured every bit of exposed skin. The stretchable fabric made for easy work, but you had the distinct feeling they wouldn't have needed it at all as the shadows literally dissolved every thread they encountered. Alastor reached for your replica again, seemingly collecting himself and catching his breath.
"You are quite talented, and it'll be a joy to discover what other marvels your mind can come up with." His claw dragged down over the dolls' hips, one set of real, the other set of simulated hands following it a millisecond after, right along your bare and barer sides, sending waves of anticipation down the inside of your thighs. In an instant, two very corporeal, long fingers were back between your folds, knuckle deep into your seeping core, and Alastor chuckled lowly at your surprised whine, the smug and devious purr rumbling in his chest as he took note of every twitch your body made to the tune of his strokes. "But I think it's about time to return the favor though, don't you agree?"
Still stroking that sweet spot inside of you with his fingers, the hand that held your puppet glowed in bright green, and in between your moans and pants your wide eyes can't tear themselves from the strange symbols that appear around it, swirling and sparkling. You've seen Alastor perform magic countless of times, have watched and marveled at every spell he cast and his flair for the dramatic was only matched by the elegance of his every motion. But this? This was something else. The nonchalance with which his fingers pumped in and out of you, working meticulously, tactically, teasing you and working you into a mess with such a proficiency while he traced symbols with his free hand and the script, the raw power of it, the surge you could feel radiating from him, all that and his unflinching composure drove you mad with both desire and fascination.
The light and the symbols faded, and in his hands - the puppet, similar yet not quite. It felt off, almost lifelike, the fabric more skin-like, and with a gasp, you saw..
"Let me now see, if my own little contribution can be counted as an improvement, my little witch."
If someone asked you later on what had actually happened, you couldn't have said a single word - it was too salacious, too outrageous, too much outside of what you had ever expected from Alastor. How could you ever recount the way he pulled his throbbing cock out with his free hand - thick, dripping with precum and inhumanly beautiful. How his fingers were guiding your tiny copy to align with its tip, while he never left your eyes, smile almost manic.
He made holes. And seconds later, when he slowly pushed the doll onto his length, with his fingers still buried deep inside you, you knew that they worked. Oh, and how they worked.
"Oh m-my... god..."
It was heaven and hell. Bliss and torture, the feeling abhorrently delicious. The magical connection allowed every ridge, vein and vibration of his cock to transfer perfectly through the dolls body to you, making you shudder and keen at the intensity, the sheer tightness, and simultaneously Alastor groaned - a broken, rugged sound, loud enough to make you glance up with misty eyes from your debauched position. Your insides clenched hard around his fingers and the ghost of his cock, your toes curling as you whimpered, a picture perfect representation of how utterly sinful he looked with his dark lashes resting on his red cheeks, eyes shut and the mouth agape as his chest was rising and falling, breaths coming hard and labored.
He noticed your raptured gaze, looking down at you through hooded eyes, his smile positively obscene.
"Mh, I like the way you pray on me instead of one of your silly deities, darling. But you can call me Alastor."
And oh, how it felt, when his hand closed tightly around the little voodoo doll that was stuffed so full of him. You arched your back and writhed against the firm hold the tentacles had on you, pressing your knees against the pillows as he pulled his drenched fingers out of you, bringing them up to his face to lick them clean. He groaned at the taste, closing his eyes and making an effort to concentrate, his control crumbling in tiny pebbles around you, and his hips started to snap, sheathing the miniature you further on his cock, thrusting in increasingly fast paced movements. A string of whimpers escaped you, his name spilling throughout them like a mantra, as you were unable to do much more but twitch, shake and tremble as his ministrations came faster, harder, and Alastor let his head fall back, baring his neck and swallowing.
"You're so-" He groaned, squeezing your dolls body, forcing it closer against him and sliding it off and back on at an excruciatingly slow pace, your moans climbing and escalating with every inch that moved through the magic veil and in and around your sopping center. "-goddamn perfect, perfectly made for me." Your body didn't know how to react anymore, you stuttered incoherently, everything full with his praise, with this cock that wasn't there but was, the heat that shouldn't have been possible to fill you but did. You felt every bit of skin and fur and sweat and the realization only dawned on you when it was already too late: That you were about to come harder than you ever did, and that Alastor was losing his mind just from watching your reactions to his assault on your doll.
"S-So tight and needy. What a perfect... little... toy you are." If they were meant for you below him or the doll in his hands - you didn't know. But the panted words and almost dirty, explicit praise spilled from his lips in a flurry, every syllable seemed strangely calculated, aimed like a dart straight into you and tearing down all defenses as your pussy twitched helplessly around the sensation of being stretched and fucked open on the image of his cock. When he chuckled and sank your doll to the base, grinding your little figure against him so the head of his cock poked and prodded you where it had never reached before, you all but screamed his name as you came, and your pathetic cries pulled a harsh string of groans and grunts out of the demon towering over you, his breathless cursing and rambled obscenities underlined by the vicious snaps of his hips as he used your simulacrum like a glorified sex toy. His nails pierced the outer layer of the doll as your walls constricted and contracted around the thick nothing as he finished you and himself off into the realm of oblivion.
Everything went white for a moment and when your senses returned, Alastor was carefully cradling you into his arms, the little replica sitting next to his own on your bedside table, their heads almost tenderly leaning on each other. He was gently raking his claws through your damp, disheveled hair, placing little kisses down the back of your neck and on the thin skin behind your ears as he mumbled silent praises against your skin. He kissed along your jaw, gentle as anything, a soft thumb grazing along your lips, cheeks and your temple as he traced the lines of your features until he found the pulse on your neck. The cold touch of his lips was a nice contrast to the hot breath, and you moaned softly at his affectionate gesture.
"It's never a disappointment with you, love, quite the contrary." He hummed, scraping his sharp teeth almost teasingly along the crook of your neck before kissing it, covering your skin with static electricity. "What a marvelous surprise you prepared for me, my dear, truly magical." His lips pressed into yours in a rare kiss, and you leaned back into his naked embrace and smiled, the giddy feeling of accomplishment spreading in your belly and mixing in beautifully with the aftershocks of your orgasm.
"I'm glad... you liked it."
"Oh, that is hardly the phrase I would use," Alastor chuckled as he pulled back, making you blush as his red iris glowed dangerously. "But you, my dear, will have a little work to do, seeing as I'm positively spoiled after this gift. You have no idea of the things I'm thinking about, all the possibilities of what we can accomplish if we put both our minds – and magic - to it."
Alastor pulled you into a tight embrace, rubbing his chin and cheeks across your scalp and shoulders, coating you with a generous amount of his scent as if to mark you before pulling the blankets up and covering the two of you as his arms locked around you possessively, letting you settle against his chest as he hummed a melody you didn't know. But you knew him well enough to know that it was a clear sign of him being absolutely pleased and content.
You smiled, his good mood infectious, and as you glanced to the two dolls that sat together like a matching pair, stripped of their clothes and as close together as you and the real demon were now under the sheets, it made you feel like the cat that ate the canary. The cat had been fed by Alastor, sure. But he had also had his fill and then some, and really... that was all that mattered to you.
#hazbin hotel#alastor#hazbin alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel fanfiction#fraugwinskawrites#quickfic#alastor smut#hazbin hotel smut#magical fucking
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Heyo! I return!!!!
Could I get a mammon, blitzø and alastor (separate) with a wife reader who’s really oblivious and ditzy? Sorta like a bimbo?
🦷 anon! <33333
Alastor | Blitzo | Mammon [Romantic]
In which their partner is extremely oblivious and ditzy.
Well, that's what he was here for, isn't it?
To make it look like you know what you're doing, to be the reason or you little 'show'
According to the public eye, if you're his partner then theres no way it's not a character, Alastor would NEVER date a clutz, let alone have the patience for one
Alastor found these little whispers amusing
Everyone thought they had some idea of what he was, but they were always throwing darts at the wrong board
All the better for him, he gets the joy of you making every day new and exciting as well as the strange rumours people came up with about the two of you
Everyone else was just so boring, so pitiful to the overlord
Either kneeling to his every wish, or putting on a face until he left them alone, or the rare run away screaming
But when you bumped into him on the street, you asked him if he was that 'one guy who tortured people and put it online' before you even apologized
Then you asked if he would kill you, and when he said yes, you asked if he could not
Oh yes, that made him laugh alright, you were such a cracking star
Anytime you might ask something stupid, he turns it into a joke and explain it to you later behind closed doors
Falling? tripping over yourself? He catches you and makes it look like a romantic dip, or a small dance
To him, you're cluelessness has its charm, because you've always been so honest and forward about everything that he doesn't ever feel like he has to pull secrets from you
You also amuse his every little quirk, which everyone else just finds weird, so that's a major plus
Oh my god he is so stupid
But you make him look so smart it's insane, just add you to the room and suddenly he's a genius
At first, it was just by comparison, but now in order to compensate for you he is always trying his best to be the smartest he can be
Especially in his line of work, Blitzo doesn't like the idea of making a mistake that could cost your life
So instead he trains to make sure he can save you when you need it
You guys are very damsel in distress/knight in shining armour
Except this kind of backfires because him being so serious starts to get him caught a lot...and you always manage to get him out (usually by mistake)
Like that one time you busted into a room full of 20 armed demons and dropped your gun when they came at you, but it went off and landed in a crate of explosives
I mean both of you were very injured but you both got out soooo
" You really are the dumbest slut I know, my sweetie-pie. "
He gets really defensive about you, though
Sure, he’s your husband so he can make fun of you
But if anyone else calls you anything along the lines of stupid or useless he blows up on them
Sure, you're a bit oblivious, but they don't know your talents, and all the things you teach him behind closed doors
He won't let anyone get away with being cruel to you
A little bit of a roger rabbit and jessica rabbit duo
Honestly exactly his type
Extremely wealthy husband and his bimbo wife?
The newspaper headlines go crazy for you guys and your strange duo, and a lot of photos of the two of you together are popular
Sort of funny looking tree man and his dolled up wifey
He's not really the brightest either, not when it comes to simple things that don't have to do with money or his status
So you are both very oblivious to things that aren't entirely straightforward and always have to whisper back and forth about a topic until you can figure it out
Two idiots in love
Nevertheless, he loves your dependance on him
He likes that you are always by his side in case you need help, so you are safe and sound
He's just as clingy as you are, he always has one arm around your waist
Calls you all sorts of sort of derogatory pet names but in a loving way
Dolly, sweetheart, gorgeous, legs, etc etc
Honestly though you are also probably explaining as much to him as he is you, just in different topics
But he has the confidence to go with his lack of knowledge and obliviousness
And confidence gets you far
" Yeah, like, the moon is full once a week or some shit "
" Isn't it once a month? "
" No doll, that's how often a blue moon occurs. "
" Ohh! Like once in a blue moon? "
Anyone overhearing this shit is fucking rolling in their grave
Author's Note - Hiii welcome back tooth anon!!! Sorry this took a hot min, for some reaosn this prompt was so hard for me but I REFUSED to give up (Never sleep never what!?!?!) Thank you for requesting, and I hope you enjoy!
#koko writez#hazbin hotel#helluva boss#hazbin hotel x reader#helluva boss x reader#reader insert#x reader#alastor#alastor x reader#blitzo#blitzo x reader#mammon#mammon x reader
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break up with your girlfriend, i'm bored
short lil summary: after that one night with harry, you can't stop thinking about him...but things don't exactly turn out like you'd hoped.
warnings: smut (multiple positions, multiple orgasms), angst, oral (f receiving), dirty talk - 18+ ONLY!!
word count: 8k+
a/n: this is part 2 of bad idea. read that first.
(obviously both are somewhat inspired by ariana grande songs)
You heard your phone ringing as you stepped out of the shower. Knowing better than to hurry and risk falling on the bathroom floor, you listened for another ring, but none came. Quickly drying off with a towel, you wondered if it was Harry.
The two of you had been texting for the last few days. While he’d continued with his audacious flirting, he hadn’t made another move to see you again until last night.
Wanna grab a coffee or something tomorrow? he’d texted.
Not wanting to sound too eager, you’d said you had tentative plans with a friend - which wasn’t a full lie since Deliah had texted you and asked to get together - so you should play it by ear.
Stepping into your bedroom, you grabbed your phone from your bed. Your lips twitched into a grin when you saw his name.
Harry. Harry, Harry, Harry. Thoughts of him had been invading your mind since you’d left his apartment that morning. That morning after the most incredible sex you’d ever had. He’d ordered you an Uber, and offered you breakfast which you’d declined. While he’d been sweet, promising to text you, you’d made sure to keep things casual - especially after seeing that text from Melanie on his phone.
Maybe she was his girlfriend. He’d guessed correctly that you didn’t have a boyfriend, but he never divulged his own relationship status. And if he was anything like his brother, he may have a handful of women he was fucking. Not that you blamed him. He was a sexy guy, and despite falling under his spell for one drunken, sex-charged night, you were still his brother’s ex and knew it was best not to get too attached.
One thing you admitted to yourself at least, was that you enjoyed his flirty little texts and the way they made you giggle like a schoolgirl. But you would never say this to your friends. You hadn’t heard from Marcie at all since that night, and Deliah, ever the kind and gentle soul, merely asked if you got home okay and if you had a hangover, saying you two should make dinner plans. Obviously both of your friends knew you’d slept with your ex’s brother. But for now, it had yet to be a topic of conversation.
“Hey, it’s Harry,” he said in the voicemail he’d just left. “Was wondering if you were free. I was just about to head to the coffee shop. Let me know.”
Since you hadn’t heard decisive plans from Deliah about that dinner yet, you tapped the phone to call Harry back.
“Hi, which coffee shop?”
You could see him through the cafe window before you even made it to the door. He sat in a corner booth at the front, another cap backwards on his head. He smiled and waved when he saw you coming, and it immediately sent a warm feeling through your veins.
“Hi,” you said when you approached him, and he rose from the booth, surprising you with a kiss on the cheek.
“You look lovely,” he commented, his palm running down your back and lingering just above your waist. “I haven’t ordered yet. Thought I’d wait for you.”
“Oh, that’s sweet, but you didn’t have to.”
Harry shrugged. “I wanted to.”
With a grin, you walked with Harry to the counter to place your coffee order. When he told the barista it was together and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, you didn’t argue. Joining him at the table again, you asked Harry how his day had been.
“Pretty good,” he replied. “Had another interview this morning.”
“How did that go?”
“Went well, I think. It’s hard to tell sometimes.”
“I know,” you nodded. “Good luck, though.”
“Thanks.”
You both continued to make small talk for a bit until the barista called out his name. You watched Harry slide out of the booth to pick your coffees up at the counter. Selfishly, you stared at his back, his broad shoulders, hoping he was planning to stay in the states instead of returning to London. Shaking your head, you cursed yourself for having such thoughts. He was not yours to claim. Some good dick and a cup of coffee did not mean anything more.
Returning to the table, he set your cup in front of you. Then Harry’s smile spread across his face before he reached for his phone. “Found something today as well,” he said sheepishly.
“Oh?”
Tapping on his cell, Harry chuckled before turning it towards you. Your face fell when you recognized the image. It was your senior photo from high school.
“Is that you?” he asked.
With a sigh, you nodded, wanting to make yourself small and melt into the vinyl of the seat. “Yeah.”
“I told you I thought you looked familiar,” he smirked. “You went to my high school.”
“Where did you find that?” you asked him with a grimace.
“Your instagram.”
“Shit,” you muttered, throwing your hand over your face. You’d forgotten you had an account. You’d abandoned it after you and David had broken up.
Fuck! David!
“I hope you don’t mind that I looked you up,” Harry continued.
Pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, you shook your head, wanting to vomit. “I guess you know who I am, then.”
“From school, yeah. Oh, you mean that you dated my brother?”
“Yes,” you groaned, shielding your eyes from him as you looked down at your untouched coffee.
“Honestly? I don’t care much about that.”
Lifting your head, you stared at him in shock. “What?”
Harry shrugged. “David’s dated a lot of girls. I could barely keep track even before I left for London. I was bound to run into one of them sooner or later.”
Making a face, you sat back. “Not sure how I feel about that.”
Harry chuckled. “I didn’t mean to imply you’re just another chick, sweetheart. You’re anything but that, if I’m being honest. It just doesn’t matter to me that you dated my brother, that’s all. I like you. We had a good time, yeah?”
Color rose to your face as your body relaxed. “Yes.”
“Good.” Harry gazed back at the photo on his phone. “You were really cute, too. I would’ve asked you out if I hadn’t been a dorky freshman.”
A cackle escaped your lips as you looked away, turning back only to find a gorgeous, sexy grin on Harry’s face.
“You’re definitely not dorky now, Harry,” you commented.
“Well, that’s a relief.”
The moment was silent as you looked at him and blinked. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I guess I…was afraid it would spoil everything. I was enjoying spending time with you.”
“‘s alright. I enjoyed it too.”
Finally taking a sip of your latte, you looked up at him. “So where does that leave us?”
“Exactly where we were. I asked you here because I wanted to see you again.”
“And?” you tilted your head, hoping he had more to add.
“And…I was hoping we could get together again soon. Like this weekend.”
“Alright,” you said nonchalantly, lifting your cup to your lips.
Harry snickered. “Just alright? Did you have other plans?”
“Well, I might, Harry. It’s kind of late notice, and you don’t know me that well.”
He threw his head back laughing, and you couldn’t help but be pleased. You liked his laugh. A little too much. When he looked at you again, his eyes were dancing with glee. You took that as a good sign. Then he leaned forward, his arms crossed on the table.
“Tell you what, sweetheart. You let me know what time you’re free - either Friday or Saturday evening. And I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”
Pursing your lips, you grabbed your own phone from your bag and pretended to be looking at a calendar.
“Hmm, you’re in luck, Harry. I happen to be free both evenings,” you teased.
“That is lucky,” he agreed. “Let’s not play it by ear this time though, hmm? I wanna set a date.”
“Oh. So it’s a real date this time?” you quipped.
“What do you think this is?” Harry raised a brow, acting offended.
You chuckled. “A coffee date.”
“Ah!” Harry lifted a finger in the air. “But it is a date.”
Pulling your lips to the side, you rolled your eyes. “More like a coffee…meet up.”
“Don’t change the terms now, love, that’s not fair.”
You laughed out loud, enjoying the banter. “Alright, Harry. You can pick the night. You’re so stubborn, and if you weren’t so fucking cute I’d tell you just forget it.”
Harry slapped his hand to his chest. “Honey, that hurt.”
“No it didn’t,” you jested, trying not to show how affected you were by him calling you honey. “Drink your coffee.”
His dimples deepened as he lifted his cup. “Friday, okay?” he winked before taking a sip.
“Okay. Where are we going?”
“I have a friend whose band is playing. Would you like to go?”
“Sure.” Though you’d just done the bar thing the weekend before, Harry was just out of college and was probably still part of that whole scene. And it was his friend, so you didn’t have the heart to say no.
“Great,” Harry beamed. “I’ll pick you up around eight.”
You nodded again, taking another sip of coffee.
The rest of the coffee date was more flirting and teasing, some idle chit chat. Before your goodbyes, Harry was sweet to walk you out to your car, giving you a gentle, yet sensual kiss. And though it had been on the edge of your mind all evening, you didn’t bring up the Melanie text. You told yourself it was none of your business, but in all honesty, you didn’t wanna know the truth.
“You’re seeing him again?” asked Deliah as she dug her fork into her salad. You’d finally managed to get together for dinner the next evening. And for the first time since Saturday night, Harry’s name was brought up when she asked about your weekend plans.
“Tomorrow. And I saw him yesterday for a coffee date.”
“So it’s getting serious already?”
You laughed, shaking your head. “It’s not serious, Deliah. It’s just fun.”
“Oh. Do you like him?”
“Of course, I wouldn’t have slept with him if I didn’t.”
“You know what I mean…” Deliah tilted her head and eyed you.
Shrugging, you reached for your water glass. “If you’re asking about feelings, Deliah, it’s way too soon for that.”
“I don’t know. I fell for Shane on our first date.”
“That’s because you’re special,” you winked.
Your friend smiled as she set down her fork and wiped her hands on her napkin. “Marcie’s still mad at you, you know.”
“I figured as much,” you commented. “She hasn’t replied to any of my texts.”
“She thinks you’re just trying to get back at David.”
“Who gives a shit about David?” you exclaimed. “I’m so over him.”
“Well, she thinks you’re not, and she’s afraid you’ll fall for Harry because he looks like him.”
Sitting back in your chair, you scowled, crossing your arms over your chest. “He doesn’t, actually. Sure, he resembles him a little because he’s his brother, but they are nothing alike.”
“I believe you, Y/N,” Deliah held up her hands. “I’m only repeating what Marcie told me.”
With a huff, you grabbed your water again and gulped it down. “I thought friends were supposed to support each other,” you added. “Not bring each other down.”
“I support you! I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Yes, you are,” you sighed. Then giving a smile, you picked up your fork. “Besides, I’m not in love with the guy. He’s just really hot and good in bed. Like I said, I’m just having fun, okay?”
“Okay,” Deliah nodded.
“So what’ll it be tonight, love?” asked Harry as you took a seat at a high top table near the stage, his hand on the small of your back. “Tequila shots again?”
“Only if you want,” you grinned up at him.
“No problem.” He lowered his mouth to yours for a soft, tiny kiss before making his way to the bar.
Setting your clutch on the table in front of you, you smiled to yourself. Harry had already kissed you a handful of times tonight, starting with the big, wet one he’d laid on you as soon as you’d opened your door. He’d stood there hatless for the first time since you’d met, his usual fratboy attire absent, or at least most of it. He still wore jeans and a button down, but this one was soft and silky, black with a small stitching design. On his feet he wore black boots, and he smelled like heaven.
“Fuck me, you look amazing!” he’d exclaimed, taking the words out of your mouth.
And before you could respond, he’d slipped his hands around your waist and covered your lips with his. It had taken you a few seconds to come down from that kiss before you’d had a chance to return the compliment, only to have him press another one on your mouth next to his car.
The way he kept stealing glances at you during the drive to the bar also confirmed you’d made the right choice in your dress this evening, and you knew without a doubt that an encore of the weekend before was imminent.
The bar was crowded as you gazed around and saw Harry returning, balancing the shots in one hand and two beer necks in the other. You giggled as you rose from your seat.
“Here, let me help you,” you offered, reaching for the shots.
“No, you take these,” he insisted, dodging the people around him.
Grabbing the beers, you returned to the table.
“I’ll be right back, I forgot the limes,” explained Harry.
“Harry, it’s fine,” you chuckled, grasping his arm.
“You sure?”
“Yes. It’s too crowded over there. I don’t need them if you don’t.”
“Not really,” he smirked.
Patting the chair next to you, you urged him to sit. He obliged, lifting one of his shot glasses.
“To you, sweetheart,” he announced.
“Me?”
“Yeah. For looking so goddamn sexy; I may have to cut out of here early or take you right here on this table.”
“Shut up,” you cackled, playfully pinching his thigh.
“Shit, don’t do that either, love, c’mon,” he hissed, grabbing your wrist.
“Harry…”
“I’m serious, babe. You turn me on so much.”
“Well…” you sighed, lifting your tequila shot. “The feeling’s mutual.”
Harry stared at you as you brought your glass to your lips. Then he did the same, shooting it down in the same rhythm you did. When you reached for your second glass, Harry raised a brow.
“Not taking your time now?”
“No,” you replied. “Not tonight.”
When you swallowed back the warm liquid, feeling it pulse through your veins, Harry followed. But when he nearly slammed his glass down, he leaned over and kissed you, sucking on your tongue. You held onto him to keep from falling off the stool.
While the kiss and the heated moment itself had seemed to drown out the noise of the crowd, you both were reminded of where you were when the sound of a screeching guitar interrupted your little private soiree. Wiping his bottom lip with his thumb, Harry gave you a dimpled smirk before whispering in your ear.
“Will definitely continue this later.”
Licking your lips, you nodded. “Which one is your friend?” you asked as the band kicked into their first song.
“The lead guitarist, right there,” he gestured. “Lance. He went to our school too, but he was a grade below me.”
“Oh.”
You sat and watched the band play a song you weren’t familiar with, but sounded catchy. Then they went into a song you did know, a throwback from college. Harry smiled widely at you as you began to sing along, then he slipped his hand up your knee underneath the table. You grinned back, covering his hand with yours, still mouthing the words. Reaching for his beer, he lifted the bottle to his lips and took a swig while you continued to enjoy the band, raising your other arm in a fist to shout the lyrics to the chorus.
“This a favorite song of yours?” Harry asked in your ear.
“It was,” you replied. “Just brings back memories. It was one of my first concerts. I got really drunk that night, but don’t tell anybody.”
You giggled as Harry tried to urge his hand up higher on your thigh. “Wish I’d known you then.”
The band switched into a more modern track, and you used the opportunity to drink some of your beer. Your other hand still on Harry’s, you gazed around the room, seeing just how it had filled up since the band had started to play.
“Do you think all these people know the band already, or are they just here ‘cause it’s a bar?”
“Probably a mix of both,” Harry chuckled. “Lance said they have a bit of a following, though.”
“Is this the first time you’ve seen them?”
“Since I’ve been back, yeah. But I’ve known Lance forever, and he’s always been in some kind of band since high school.”
Just then, the song ended and the singer spoke into the mic, introducing the band and its members before starting the next song which was an original.
“Do you want another beer, or a shot?” asked Harry.
“I’m good for now,” you smiled. “But I think I’ll make a trip to the ladies’.”
Rising from your stool, you finally released Harry’s hand with a squeeze, then gave him a peck on the lips before grabbing your clutch and turning for the bathrooms. On your way, you noticed a blonde sitting at the end of the bar, her gaze straight ahead, though it didn’t appear she was watching the band. It looked like she was staring at Harry.
If you hadn’t had to use the restroom so badly, you would have done something, though you weren’t sure what. Instead, you hurried in the ladies’ room - as quickly as you could despite the short line - and began to make your way back to your table.
You stopped in your tracks, however, when you noticed the blonde had taken your seat. She looked like she was arguing with Harry, pointing at him and gesturing with her hands. Harry did the same, opening his arms wide as he spoke to her, until he finally shrugged and the girl stepped off the stool and huffed as she strutted away.
Swallowing hard, you slowly continued your steps toward Harry. He had his head in his hand, his elbow resting on the table when you slipped into your chair.
“Who was that?” you asked hesitantly.
“Oh…” he lifted his head. “Shit. Sorry. Do you want another-”
“Who was that girl, Harry?” you said again, firmly.
Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. “My ex-girlfriend.”
“Oh. She didn’t seem too pleased to see you.”
“She um…was looking for me, actually. Reckoned I’d be here.”
“She knows you’re friends with Lance,” you commented.
“Yeah.” Harry stared down at his beer bottle, peeling the edges of the label off with his fingernails. You could tell he was avoiding looking at you.
Exhaling through your nose, you placed your bag on the table in front of you. That must have been Melanie. Not really sure what else to say, you took a swig of your beer. The roaring sound of the crowd around you and the high decibels of the rock band seemed to be miles away as you stared at Harry, hoping he would say something. Finally, you spoke, for the silence between you was driving you crazy.
“Harry…” you leaned forward, placing your hand on his arm. He lifted his head to look at you, but his expression was not one you could easily read. “Do you wanna leave?” you asked.
Sitting up, Harry sighed, his shoulders dropping. Then he shook his head. “No. Fuck, I’m sorry, Y/N.”
“Me too,” you mouthed, though you didn’t really say the words loud enough to hear. Then you took his hand and looked him in the eye. “Harry, I’m enjoying being with you. I really like you. But…I don’t wanna be…”
“Shh,” he silenced you, pulling you to him in an embrace. Then he softly said the things in your ear that you’d hoped he would. “You’re not, sweetheart. Don’t even think it. I’ll tell you more about her later, if you wanna know. But it’s been over for a while. Alright?”
Pulling back, Harry looked at you, studying your face. “I don’t wanna leave…at least not yet. I wanna be here…with you.”
You nodded eagerly, believing his words…wanting to believe them. Bringing his hands to your face, he cupped your cheeks and placed a tender kiss on your lips. Blinking your eyes, you decided to let it go for now. He’d said she was an ex. He obviously knew who your ex was now. Maybe you were even.
You enjoyed the rest of the band’s first set until they stopped to take a fifteen minute break. Lance recognized Harry when he set down his guitar, and walked off the stage to greet him. When Harry introduced him to you, Lance gave a smile and a thank you for coming. They chatted and reminisced for a bit, and you half-wondered if Melanie’s name would come up, but it didn’t.
After Lance left, Harry announced he was going to the bathroom and would return with more drinks. You people-watched while he was away, swinging your legs underneath the table to the beat of the music playing through the speakers. You laughed at a handful of frat boys playing darts at the far wall, and snuck a peak at a couple making out in the corner. Your own desire was still amped up, despite the ex-girlfriend thing, and you secretly hoped Harry would decide to take you home soon.
When he wasn’t back in ten minutes, however, you started to get antsy and a little worried. There was still a crowd at the bar, and you wondered if he was there and needed help carrying your drinks. Grabbing your purse, you walked in that direction, but stopped when you saw your date on the other side of the bar talking to the blonde again. Your stomach suddenly in knots, you strode over to them and tapped Harry on the shoulder. He turned with a surprised look on his face.
“I’m gonna go,” you announced. “I’ll get an Uber.”
“Y/N, no!”
“Yeah…I am. You two obviously have some things to work out. And I’m not in the mood to wait for you to finish tonight.”
When you turned for the exit, Harry grabbed your arm. “Honey, please,” he said. “Don’t leave. I was just telling Melanie to leave, that I was here with you-”
“Melanie,” you repeated. “That’s her name?”
“Yeah, but-”
“Call me when this is over,” you said. “If that’s what you want. Otherwise, don’t call me…at all.”
You heard Harry call your name once more as you made your way to the door, scrambling to get your phone out of your bag. Once outside, you requested an Uber on the app, grateful there was a driver closeby.
You swore to yourself you weren’t going to cry because that would be foolish. You didn’t have any feelings for Harry. He was just some guy. Some really hot, sexy guy who’d made you come four times in one night.
Fuck it all!
You didn’t hear from Harry the rest of the night. Though you sort of wished you would get at least an apology text, asking if you were okay, you got nothing. You got nothing the next day either, nor the day after that. By Monday you’d given up, deciding he was indeed just some guy, and just like his brother, if not worse.
You felt ashamed. Ashamed that you’d insisted it was just sex and told your friends you were just looking to have fun. You couldn’t even call or text them. Marcie would probably say “I told you so,” and Deliah, while she wouldn’t say it, would be thinking it.
It wasn’t until Thursday that you finally got a text from Harry. By then you’d just about forgotten his number was still in your phone. Almost.
Hi.
One word. That was it. Like he was testing the waters, seeing if you would respond. Such a guy thing to do.
You simply replied with the same word. Two letters. No emotion.
I just wanted to say I’m sorry.
Of course he was. Rolling your eyes, you typed back.
What for?
He took a minute to respond. You figured he was trying out different ways to explain without stating the obvious.
For everything, Y/N. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Melanie. We broke up a while ago, but since I’ve been back she’s been trying to get back together. I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
Ok. Short and sweet. No need to go further and spew any word vomit. Keep it simple.
I didn’t mean to hurt you. I really like you, and I’m very attracted to you.
Biting your lip to keep it from trembling, you texted quickly.
So you got back together? You just wanted him to tell you already. Nip it in the bud.
Yes. I’m sorry, Y/N. And I’m sorry I haven’t called.
Taking a deep breath, you let it out slowly. Then you typed your final response.
Thanks for letting me know. Have a nice life.
Tossing your phone on the bed, you sat on the edge and let yourself cry. Just a little.
Three weeks later…
Summer was in full swing, the sun heating up the pavement as the tropical cocktails cooled your throat. You laid between Marcie and Deliah on the pool chairs, sunglasses on your face and a piña colada in your hand. This time the party was hosted by one of Marcie’s colleagues, Jennifer, whose husband was a doctor. Needless to say, the house was gorgeous, the enormous pool and outdoor bar only the icing on the cake.
You were glad to be hanging out with your girlfriends again. While you’d never gone into details about the Harry charade, you’d merely told them they were right, and that he was just wanting a piece of ass. You told them you were over it - in fact, had brushed it off your shoulders like it was nothing - when in truth, it had taken you a bit until the memory of Harry’s touch, his plump lips on yours, his cock deep inside of you had completely vanished.
Who were you kidding? He was still on your mind, every fucking day. But you weren’t about to tell them that.
Ian came up to Marcie and handed her another tequila sunrise, taking her empty glass from her. She thanked him with a term of endearment and you felt your stomach clench. Sipping on your cocktail, you watched the people in the pool throw a beach ball around. Suddenly, the music that was playing through the tiny, hidden speakers switched from the Sabrina Carpenter song you liked to a rock tune by Bon Jovi, immediately transporting you back to the last time you’d heard it.
You could still see him sitting there in Trevor’s loft, holding the glass of beer, a snapback backwards on his head as he stared at you. And as if he had known you were thinking about him, like magic he appeared.
He stood on the other side of the pool, wearing yellow swim trunks and a white t-shirt, sandals on his feet, and a fucking backwards cap on his head. Black shades covered his eyes, but you could swear he was looking right at you, despite the blonde in the blue bikini holding his hand right next to him.
Greg, Jennifer’s husband walked up to him then, and Harry shook hands with him. Then he turned towards the pool chairs behind him where he removed his cap and shirt and laid them down. The uneasy feeling in your stomach was too much to bear, so you shoved your drink at Deliah who glared at you in surprise.
“I don’t feel so well,” you muttered. “Going to the bathroom.”
Slipping into your sandals with haste, you rushed to the back door where Jennifer was just exiting.
“Oh, hey, I just put out more snacks on the kitchen island!” she announced. “Help yourself!”
“Thanks,” you said hurriedly, setting your sunglasses on your head before bolting for the stairs.
You figured a bathroom upstairs would be more private. With relief, you found one halfway down the hall and locked the door behind you.
You can do this! You breathed to yourself. Remember, he’s just a guy.
Taking several more breaths, you used the toilet and washed your hands before deciding you most definitely could do this. It wasn’t like it had been with David. You hadn’t been pining over Harry for twelve years.
Skipping down the stairs, you decided to stop in the kitchen to check out the snacks. You paused when you saw Harry inspecting the fruit and finger sandwiches, laying several on a paper plate. When he lifted his eyes and saw you, he looked surprised.
“Y/N. I…I didn’t know you were here.”
“Sure you did,” you quipped, grabbing a plate for yourself. “You saw me outside.”
“I promise, I didn’t,” he chuckled. “But…it’s good to see you.”
“Mmhmm,” you nodded, reaching for the dip.
“I mean it. You look…amazing.” You watched his eyes follow down your body in your two-piece bathing suit.
“Thanks,” you clipped as you diverted your gaze and started piling potato chips onto your plate.
Making your way around the island, you stopped in front of the watermelon, grabbing several chunks with your plastic fork. Harry hadn’t seemed to move since you walked in the room. But you heard him speak again when you reached for the sandwiches.
“Y/N…”
“Yes?”
“I really am sorry. I was hoping we could be friends.”
Finally looking at him again, you noticed a somber look on his face, one you hadn’t seen before. Regret? Maybe.
“Friends? Sure.”
“You mean it?”
With a nervous chuckle, you shrugged. “Whatever, Harry. But to be honest, I don’t usually become friends with a guy after I’ve slept with him.”
The back door opened again and Greg held it for one of the other guests.
“Oh, can you keep that open for me, please?” you called, carrying your plate of goodies. “Thank you!”
Stepping back out into the sun, you returned to your friends, leaving Harry alone on his island.
The hot afternoon had begun to cool down as the evening breeze blew in. Both Marcie and Deliah had been kind enough to let you know they’d noticed Harry had arrived but would be happy to leave with you if you wanted. You gave them both hugs, assuring them you were fine. Of course it was a lie, but one you were willing to tell for your own sanity.
You hadn’t been able to take your eyes off of him. He stayed on his side of the pool for the most part, and you figured it was mostly due to his girlfriend. Surely she knew you were there as well, and was avoiding any more uncomfortable situations. So other than getting in the pool for a bit yourself, you pretty much stayed in your chair or sat at an umbrella-covered table with your friends.
And of course, the alcohol helped. By four o’clock you’d had a pretty good buzz going and continued to keep it for the rest of the afternoon. It was much easier to have fun and not worry about the hot guy on the other side of the pool when you were tipsy.
By the time the sun was setting, Greg and some of his friends had grilled a delicious feast, everyone partaking with pleasure after the long, hot day. Afterwards, a few people started a game of volleyball in the pool, including Harry. When the other side needed another team member, you decided to join in.
“Y/N, are you crazy?” squealed Deliah.
“No, just drunk,” you laughed.
Taking a spot near the net, you watched Harry as he watched you through his shades. When he missed a serve, you snorted.
“How you gonna see the ball, frat boy?” you heckled. “It’s dark now.”
Slipping his sunglasses off his face, you caught the way he scowled at you. You also didn’t miss the way Melanie leaned over and whispered something in his ear.
The game continued, each team earning two points. But when Harry served, and the ball barely went over the net, you missed it.
“Tough break, princess,” Harry smirked, earning him a piercing look from Melanie.
“I shoulda gotten that one,” said the man standing next to you. “Not your fault.”
You smiled widely at him, knowing full well that Harry’s eyes were on you. This went on for a while. Though it wasn’t a tough game, you definitely got a glimpse of how competitive Harry could be. But you had to admit to yourself it was a turn-on. And though your team ended up losing, you were secretly happy that Harry got the win.
After the game, you grabbed your towel and headed for the house to change into your other clothes you had brought with you. You’d left your bag in a corner beside the sofa, and when you grabbed it and started up the stairs, you heard your name. Looking over your shoulder, you saw Harry coming up behind you.
“What are you doing?” you frowned.
“Just wanted to say that was fun,” he smiled his dimpled grin.
“The volleyball game?”
“Yeah. Didn’t you think so? You seemed to enjoy it.”
“I did,” you nodded, reaching the top of the stairs.
“So we can be friends,” he commented.
Stopping in front of the bathroom door, you turned around and looked at him. Really looked at him. His cap was back on his head, his eyes bloodshot from the chlorine. But he looked incredible. His skin was tan, as though he’d probably already been out in the sun many times that summer already. His swim trunks hung low on his hips, revealing his tattoos. And damn if those dimples didn’t make you want to swoon.
“Playing a game with you and your girlfriend does not make us friends,” you remarked.
“Why not?”
“Because…” you paused, gathering up just the right words and the courage to say them. “Because I didn’t wanna be the one who had to leave the bar that night.”
Harry’s face fell, his expression contrite. He looked like he was about to say something, but you weren’t sure you wanted to hear it. Instead, you turned for the bathroom, but before you could shut the door, Harry followed you in, locking it behind both of you.
“What are you doing?” you asked this time.
But Harry responded only with his mouth. Colliding with yours, he kissed you fervently, his tongue invading your mouth with purpose and determination. Your brain told you to resist, to push him back and out of the closed space, but your body was doing the opposite. Your hand released the towel it was holding, letting it fall to the floor. With a moan, you threw your arms around his neck. Harry’s hands found your waist, sliding down and inside your bikini bottoms. They felt so warm against your cool, damp skin. He pushed down the fabric, letting them pool at your feet. Then he lifted you up and onto the bathroom counter.
“Harry…” you breathed as you stared at his gorgeous face.
Reaching behind you, he pulled on the string that tied your top around your back, then the one around your neck. Your breasts exposed, he cupped them before licking his lips and lowering his head to suck. You threw your head back, holding onto his shoulders.
When he lifted his head again, he smirked. “How quiet can you be, sweetheart?”
“Wha-what about…your girlfriend?” you came to your senses before he leaned in for another kiss.
“What about her?” Harry asked with heavy-lidded eyes.
You chuckled incredulously. “She’s downstairs, Harry. Or did you forget?”
With a groan, he leaned forward and let his head fall on your shoulder. “Shit. I think I made a mistake, love.”
“What?”
“I shouldn’t’ve gotten back with her.” His words were muffled against your neck, but you heard him clearly.
“Oh. Okay…” You hadn’t expected him to say that.
“I can’t get you outta my head, Y/N,” he added, looking at you again. “You’re so fucking sexy…but I think…it’s more than that. We’ve just…we’ve grown apart, Melanie and me.”
“So…break up with her.” You let the words slip out before you realized. Before you even admitted that’s what you wanted.
Harry blinked a few times as he considered your request. When you got no response, you gently pushed on his chest.
“I gotta go,” you said, sliding off the counter and reaching for your bag. You pulled out your clothes and stepped into your underwear.
Harry was still silent as you finished dressing. When you yanked your bag onto your shoulder, you turned to look at him.
“Bye, Harry.” Reaching a hand out, you touched his face, then gave his lips a soft kiss.
As you opened the door, you heard him say. “I will.”
The knock startled you, waking you from your sleep. Throwing your hand out to your nightstand, you searched for your phone, lighting it up to check the time. It was half past midnight. A handful of texts with Harry’s name also displayed. Sitting up, you turned on the lamp, adjusting your vision.
Can I come over? I know it’s late.
I broke up with her.
Please, Y/N, I need to see you.
With a groan, you threw back the covers and crawled out of bed. The incessant knocking grew louder as you got closer to the front door.
“Okay, I’m coming, Jesus!” Swinging the door open, you were met with a familiar face, one you had just left a few hours ago. “Harry, what the fuck?”
“Sorry I woke you,” he said.
“No you’re not.”
Dropping his shoulders, Harry sighed. “No. I’m not.”
Pushing you backwards with his palms, he crossed the threshold, knocking the door closed with the heel of his boot. His arms wrapped around your waist before you could protest, his mouth covering yours.
You hated the way your lips fit together so perfectly. You hated the way your body reacted to his kiss. And more than anything, you hated the way you had wanted this to happen ever since you’d told him goodbye in that bathroom.
He guided you backwards toward your bedroom, or maybe you guided him. His lips didn’t leave yours until his hands tugged on your tank top, and you lifted your arms to help him remove it. Standing before him in just your panties, you stared at him, his fucking cozy flannel shirt, his ever present snapback.
“I broke up with her, Y/N,” he voiced softly, echoing his text.
“So you said.”
“It was a mistake to get back together with her. We just…wanted to try to make it work, you know? See if there was something still there between us-”
“Harry, shut up.”
“What?”
“I don’t wanna know about you and Melanie,” you chuckled, exasperated. “Why are you here?”
A smirk twitched on his lips as he stared at you incredulously. “What do you mean? I told you I needed to see you.”
“Yes, but are you gonna fuck me or not?”
His smirk widening into a full smile, Harry nodded, pulling you into another kiss. Removing his boots, he laid you down on the bed, his mouth trailing down your neck to nibble on your tits.
“Fuck, your skin is so soft. I’ve missed it so much,” he groaned, his hands sliding down your sides.
You grabbed hold of his hat, dropping it on the floor before running your fingers through his curls. Harry shimmied his body down between your legs while his mouth continued to leave a kiss on each part of your body down to your belly.
“This I’ve missed the most,” he whispered when his mouth stopped at your cloth-covered mound.
You whined softly as he slid his thumb up and down your slit, over your panties. You heard him chuckle low before your eyes met.
“Is this for me, sweetheart?” he asked.
“Yes. All yours, Harry.”
“All mine, hmm?” he breathed, reaching for the sides of your underwear.
You lifted your hips so he could pull them down, and he made sure his hands carefully but seductively traced your legs all the way until he reached your ankles. His body now on the floor, he knelt before you and pulled you closer so that your bottom was on the edge of the bed, your legs spread wide.
“Fuck, such a pretty pussy, sweetheart,” he growled. “And all mine.”
His ringed finger held your thighs open as his wet tongue slid up your slit, resting on the bundle of nerves. Your toes immediately curled, your fingers grasping the bedding underneath you. You moaned as he slowly began circling and tapping on your clit, a quickly heightened sensation that you’d forgotten you craved.
“Oh, fuck yes,” you whined.
You felt him moan against you which only accelerated your pleasure. Tugging on his hair, you urged him closer, needing to feel the friction and release. When his fingers joined in on the fun, you arched your back, crying out his name.
“Harry, oh god, make me come!”
“Yeah, baby, that’s the plan.”
You felt the tension in your core as his fingers hit the tender spot inside. Light-headed, you could feel yourself steadily reaching the precipice until the coil snapped and you cried out again, your legs trembling around his head.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Good girl,” Harry cooed as you came. “So fucking sexy.”
Your chest heaving, you moaned his name, over and over, as if you were finally spilling out all the times you thought about him, all the times you wished he was in your bed.
“Harry, Harry, Harry…”
With a chuckle, Harry slithered up your body. “I like that,” he said before kissing you. “Love to hear my name on your lips.”
“Mmm, I can’t help it, Harry. I needed you so bad.”
“Yeah? Been thinking about me, baby?”
You nodded, biting your bottom lip. You worried you’d confessed too much, but when Harry’s expression softened, and he whispered the words “me too”, you considered perhaps you hadn’t.
Sitting up, Harry removed his flannel and the t-shirt underneath. With a grin, you sat up too, on your knees, sliding your hands up his torso. He sighed when your lips met his chest and you kissed the ink that was displayed there.
“Mmm, that feels nice,” he said, his bedroom eyes on you when you gazed up at him.
Your fingers quickly found the button on his jeans, your hand slipping inside to cup his prominent bulge while your mouth continued to kiss his flesh, your tongue tracing the top of his butterfly tattoo.
“Fuck me, Y/N, you’re so hot.”
“So are you, Harry. I need to feel you.”
“Yeah? You want my cock, sweetheart?”
“Yes, please,” you nodded up at him with pouty lips.
Harry smirked as he leaned in for a kiss. “Oh you are so fucking sweet, aren’t you?”
You nodded, meeting his lips and sucking on his tongue. He moaned against you before crawling off the bed to remove his jeans and underwear. You reached into your bedside drawer to get a condom, happy to roll it on his incredible erection.
“C’mere, honey,” he growled as he stood at the foot of the bed. He pulled you to the edge again, aiming his hard cock at your entrance.
“Are you wet enough?” he asked.
“Very,” you exhaled, as he tested the waters for himself.
“Always so wet for me,” he grinned before entering you slowly. “Mmm yeah, so good.”
Holding on your waist, Harry fucked you slow and deep. Running your hands down your chest, watched him as he watched you, his green eyes dark in the lamp light. Your breaths quickened as he thrust faster, his hands sliding underneath you to lift you higher.
“Oh yeah, fuck me…” you cried. “Feels so good.”
“Yeah, you like that baby?”
“So much. Oh god!”
You watched his arm muscles flex, his stomach tighten as he fucked you harder. His jaw slack, his beautiful lips opened as he puffed out heavy breaths. He looked so sexy, you could barely stand it. When you cried out again, he slowed, lightly patting your behind.
“Turn over, babe,” he instructed.
Getting on your hands and knees, you scooted to the edge of the bed again where Harry eagerly grabbed your hips, guiding you to where he wanted you. You felt the pressure in your cunt as he slipped inside your walls, enveloping his cock and dripping down your leg.
“Fuck!” you exclaimed as he pressed his palm to your back.
“Fuck yeah, sweetheart, you feel amazing. Nice and deep.”
“Ohhh Harry!”
Harry’s moans got deeper and more guttural as he pounded into you. You grasped at your sheets, needing to scratch at something. When he slapped your ass, you almost came undone.
“Fuck baby, this is so good, but I wanna see your pretty face when you come,” Harry groaned. Pulling out, he urged you to turn around again. “Grab hold of me.”
You did as you were told, wrapping your arms around his neck. He pulled you up as you wound your legs around him, his cock sliding back into place. You bounced on him, impressed by his strength as he held you up.
“Oh my god!” you cried out again.
“Oh fuck yeah!” Harry moaned, thrusting harder. “God, you drive me crazy, Y/N. Can’t stop thinking about you.”
“Mmm, me neither.”
He kissed you then, a deep, sensual kiss before lying you back down on the bed. As he hovered over you, the lamp reflected in his eyes, his gorgeous face full of desire. He resumed his thrusts, driving deeper and hitting the sweet spot, making you cry out all over again.
“Fuck me, baby!” you demanded. “Just like that, don’t stop. Make me come.”
“Yeah, you gonna come for me honey?”
“Yes!”
“Touch yourself. Touch your sweet clit while I fuck you.” He lifted your legs to his shoulders while you reached for your clit. It only took a couple thrusts before you were writhing underneath him, calling out his name.
“Good girl,” he cooed. “Y/N, you’re so fucking hot, oh my god.”
He kissed you tenderly then as you trembled in his arms. Your heart beating heavily in your chest, your breaths quickened, you held on tightly, urging him to continue.
“I’m so close already, love,” said Harry through his own heavy breaths. “You feel so fucking good.”
He slipped his arms underneath your back and cradled your neck in his hands. He stared at you as he sped up his thrusts, deep groans rising from his throat.
“Ahh fuck yeah…ohhhhh…” Harry buried his face in the crook of your neck as he emptied into the condom. When he lifted his head to look at you, you both chuckled.
“Wow,” he breathed.
“I know,” you smiled.
“That was so fucking good,” he commented before dropping his head again.
You ran your fingertips up and down his back soothingly, giving him a minute to come down. When he rolled off of you, he gave you an amazing smile, his eyes cute and squinty.
“Mind if I stay the night?” he asked.
“Definitely not,” you replied, reaching to touch his curls.
“Good. Because I’d like to do that again.”
taglist: @daphnesutton, @freedomfireflies, @cohnfusedarling, @heartateasee, @buckybarnessimpp, @behindmygreyeyes @carpiovanessa-blog @ottawaoutlander @fairytale07 @finelinepie @hisparentsgallerryy @mj-loves-rejjxxxx , @cherrymojitoo @fangirl7060 @kittenhere @ghoststyles @harryyloverrr @monicaalexandraaa @lovebittenbyevans @babegoalsreads @gurugirl @lillefroe @adorebeaa @daydreaming-laur @fkinavocado @nataylia13 @fruitmans @becauseheartsgetbroken-hs @miraclealignertlsp369 @adoredeanna
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Aim for the Sky Part 9 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: You were trying your best to enjoy the countdown to the arrival of the baby, but your emotions were all over the place. Even on your birthday, you couldn't tell if you were excited or anxious. Bradley planned to surprise you with something special, but he got a different kind of surprise instead.
Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, swearing, injury while pregnant
Length: 4500 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.
Your parents' departure after Christmas left you antsy and anxious, and you knew Bradley could tell. All the talk about them potentially moving to California had you on edge, especially since everything was beginning to feel very real now. Your due date was creeping closer and closer, and you were starting to remember one solidly scary fact on an hourly basis now: neither you nor Bradley had any clue how to take care of a baby.
Your husband was so excited, it wasn't like you could feasibly bring up this topic of conversation. Every time you tried, he reminded you that he had watched dozens of Youtube videos. He told you that your parents were always just a call away. He assured you that if he was ever going to be successful at anything, it would be taking care of Rosie.
"I'm ready for the Nugget, Baby Girl," he told you as you got dressed to go out to the Hard Deck on New Year's Eve. He was already wearing the pink shirt you gave him for Christmas. The tiny matching one was tucked away in the closet in the nursery which brought a tear to your eye.
"I know you are," you sniffed, "but I'm still scared." You'd had a headache for the last few days, and food just hadn't sounded appealing to you. Your belly was getting enormous as your third trimester wore on, and everything was tender. "She'll be here so soon."
Bradley looked at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, his eyes lighting up as he smiled. "Eleven more weeks, but who's counting? Not me," he said, holding up his phone which had a 'Countdown to Rose' background on the screen. When you didn't even smile, he sighed and said, "I know you're nervous, Sweetheart. I get moments where I'm really nervous, too."
You pressed your lips together and tried to hold back the tears. You already knew how much he struggled with coming to terms with becoming a parent when he hadn't had either of his for such a long time. "The whole thing is going to hurt. And then we have to figure out what to do with an actual baby. Like this is going to be way different from nursing Tramp back to health. And I suddenly feel like I'm going to be terrible at this."
He had you in his arms immediately, and you were trying not to get your smeared makeup on his pink shirt. "It might hurt, but I'll be with you the whole time. And then I swear I'll take care of everything right afterwards so you don't have to. I'm planning on taking a few days off from work after Rosie gets here, and you can relax and be an amazing mom while I clean and take care of everything else."
You looked up at him as a tear slid down your cheek. "You're going to cook, Roo?" you asked, finally breaking into a smile.
His eyes went wide, and his lips parted wordlessly. You laughed at the worried look on his face even as you cried a little bit more. "Well, we can figure that part out. Or maybe you can freeze some dinners? I don't think I should be cooking."
"I agree," you hiccuped, wrapping your arms around him awkwardly with your belly in the way.
You were quiet for a bit before Bradley finally asked, "Would you rather stay home tonight?"
Of course you'd rather stay home. Nothing sounded as good as your bed these days. That was where he fucked you until you weren't horny anymore and then let you fall asleep in his arms while he read to you from the Nugget notebook. "No, I want to go out and see everyone," you told him, because you knew he wanted to go out. "We can sleep in tomorrow and do nothing."
He kissed the top of your head and murmured, "It'll be a relaxing week since we're going out for your birthday on Friday night."
"Are we?" you asked, suddenly feeling excited that he always remembered your day and made it special. "Where?"
"Hot sauce restaurant," he whispered. "And maybe a little something extra."
"A cake?" you gasped.
Bradley laughed as he wiped away your tears. "You want a cake? I'll get you a cake, Baby Girl. Anything you want."
-----------------------------
The Hard Deck was absolutely packed for New Year's Eve, and Bradley was getting worried that someone was going to bump into you. He tried to get you and your bottle of Gatorade tucked safely between his body and Nat's, but there were people shoving through the crowd in every direction.
"I've never seen it this crowded before," you said over the music. You'd just been talking to Jake about three feet away, but Bradley could only pay attention to anyone who looked drunk and unsteady on their feet while he sipped his own beer cautiously.
"Seriously," he replied. "Penny and Jimmy look panicked. That new bartender looks like she's going to cry."
You scanned the room, taking a small step away from him and Nat, and that's when you got bumped. "What the fuck, man?" Bradley shouted to some guy he'd never seen before when you stumbled back against him. "Watch where the fuck you're going."
"I'm fine, Roo," you assured him with your hand on his bicep, but Bradley glared daggers at him until he was out of your vicinity.
"You might be fine, but I want you to be safe and comfortable," he snarled, finally looking down at your pretty face as your straw rested on your lip. "I want you to feel as perfect as you look." Just then someone else bumped you into him, and his fingers curled into a fist.
You reached for his hand and shook it until his fingers uncurled and were laced with yours. "I want to tell you to stop, but you're seriously turning me on right now," you moaned, eyes glued to his face as your pupils grew wide. "Like a lot."
Bradley closed his eyes and took a deep breath as his body reacted to your words and the look you were giving him. His hand came to rest gently on your bump, stroking you through your shirt. You looked incredible right now, and you even tasted and smelled impossibly sweet to him. "It's way too early to leave," he rasped, glancing down your shirt as you took another sip of Gatorade. "But when we do, I promise you'll be well taken care of."
"Mmkay, Daddy," you replied, kissing his neck while Nat made an animated gagging face behind you.
"I was going to ask if either of you wanted to play darts with me, but not if you're going to start doing that all night," she said, but you were already bouncing with excitement.
"I want to play!" you told her, shoving your drink into Bradley's free hand.
Nat grimaced but said, "Okay, fine. But only because you look happy, and the endorphins are probably good for the baby."
For the next forty-five minutes, Bradley acted as a human fence, trying to block anyone from jostling you while you and his best friends played darts. "You want to play, Roo?" you asked him at one point, holding up three darts in his direction.
"Who's going to guard you and Rosie if I play?" he asked, glaring at a woman who came tripping in your direction.
"She'll be fine," Nat told him, but he just shook his head and let you play. This was actually exhausting. He knew he'd be tired once the baby was born, but he hadn't been anticipating starting his protective duties this early. Soon he'd have his wife and his daughter to look after. Not that he minded. He was already living for it, but he didn't want to mess anything up. Your nerves were evident earlier as your hormones were constantly fluctuating, but he wasn't sure he had an excuse here.
"Are you listening?" you asked, patting his abs with the back of your hand. He could feel your engagement ring through his new shirt which made him smile unexpectedly. "It's almost midnight."
"Oh. Should we head home?" he asked, hoping he could get you out of here unscathed. The bar was getting a little wild now.
"Let's stay for the countdown and then head out. Get me a ginger ale?"
He grunted in response, looking for someone responsible to leave you with while he fought his way to the bar, but Bob was already gone on his deployment. Maria hadn't even come out tonight, and Cam was wasted. Bradley glanced at Jake and Cat who were looking quite cozy off in the corner, and he led you in that direction with his hands on your shoulders. "Stay with them," he told you, clearly interrupting the couple as you tried to dig your feet in.
"Hey, Angel," Jake said with a smirk. He had Cat's lipstick on his face and his arm around her waist, but he didn't seem too upset that Bradley dumped you there.
"Can you look after my wife while I get her something to drink? It's a little rough in here tonight. If anyone touches her, just punch them."
"I don't need a babysitter," you complained, but he kissed your forehead as Jake made room for you to stand against the wall.
"Yes, you do. I'll be right back."
Bradley fought his way up to the bar where everyone was reaching for the plastic champagne flutes that Jimmy was pouring. Penny saw him and immediately got him another beer, but he had to lean in and ask, "Can I get a ginger ale too, Pen?"
She shot him a little smile as she reached for the soda gun and a pint glass, and Bradley turned back to check on your current status. This time next year, you and he would be cozy at home with Rose, and there was nothing that could possibly make him want to be out for the night. A soft smile found his lips as he thought about coaxing his daughter to sleep and holding her against his chest while you and he watched New Year's Rockin' Eve on TV with Tramp on the area rug.
"Hey, handsome, you wanna buy me a drink?"
Bradley let his gaze shift down to the woman next to him, and he shook his head as she reached for his hand. "Absolutely not," he replied immediately, annoyed that someone was making his quest to get this drink and get back to you longer than it needed to be. He handed Penny ten dollars and grabbed your ginger ale before heading toward the back corner where you were waiting for him, safe and sound.
"Seriously, as soon as midnight hits, we're out of here, Sweetheart."
You sipped your soda and said, "Whatever you want."
-----------------------------
It turned out you and Bradley wanted the same thing. He had you both undressed by the time you got to your bedroom, and then the two of you stumbled into the bathroom, laughing between kisses. He tasted like beer, and his two day old stubble was rough, and you wanted him so badly you were aching for it. But he took the time to light two of the candles you left near the bathtub for when you wanted to take a relaxing bath, his hard cock bobbing as he walked.
"I'm setting the mood," he whispered with a smile, the scars on his face intriguingly handsome in the candlelight.
"Bradley, I'm always in the mood at the moment," you reminded him. You could probably handle him four times a day right now if he could manage it.
"Just let me try to be romantic," he whined, pressing your butt against the edge of the vanity before spinning you around to face the mirror. "I want to romantically fuck the shit out of you."
Your giggles turned to moans as he guided himself deep into your pussy before stroking your clit with one sure fingertip and bracing his hand on the vanity next to yours. His abs were hard against your back, and his pelvic bones were sharp, digging into your rear end. He pulled out a few inches before thrusting deep once again with a delicious snap of his hips. His eyes looked impossibly dark reflecting in the mirror as he watched your breasts bounce as he repeated that same thrust once again.
"Look at you," he crooned softly, leaning in to kiss the shell of your ear as he fucked you a little faster. "Oh my god."
He dragged his big hand up from your clit to cup your belly softly, kissing along your neck as you already felt yourself pulsing around him. Those rough fingers soon found your nipple, and you gasped, "Bradley," which just seemed to egg him on.
He was sucking on your neck and murmuring sweetly incoherent nothings. "Baby Girl, these tits. Gonna love them. My fucking god. Massive."
Where you just saw stretch marks and oversized body parts, he saw something that made him go feral for you right now. Your boobs were so tender, but there was something about the way he was grabbing at you that made you just want more. His voice was deep as his teeth grazed your skin, fingers kneading into the side of your breast as you clenched around his cock which was once again shoved deep inside your pussy.
"Your nipples look fucking huge," he whined, his hips starting to stutter after each fluid movement. "Do you see this?" he asked, hand sliding up the valley between your breasts to grab your chin and aim your eyes upwards until you were studying yourself. Your lips were parted, and he was right, your breasts did look pretty incredible as the candle light flickered. And somehow your swollen belly looked almost cute as he slammed into you from behind and groaned your name. "I did this to you," he whispered, hand resting over your belly button. "But the rest of it is just how fucking sexy you are. I can't get enough."
When you met his wild gaze in the mirror, you let your head tip back to his shoulder, maintaining eye contact as you started to come. He held you tight to his body as his hips met your butt and his cock stroked you exactly how you needed him to. "Oh fuck," you gasped, legs starting to shake as you got closer.
"Good girl," he crooned next to your ear, his mustache prickling your skin as your eyes closed. He fucked you through your orgasm, voice mingling with yours, and before you know it, you were standing there panting while his cum dripped down your inner thighs.
You were a little dizzy, but he kept a firm hold on you as he kissed and tasted your neck, cheek and shoulder. His fingers were stroking your furled nipples, and your skin was on fire with pleasurable little aftershocks that you didn't want to stop. But you were so tired, you needed to get off your feet.
"Roo."
Maybe it was how you said it, or maybe it was the use of that pet name in general, but he seemed to know exactly what you needed with just that one word. He helped you to the toilet and cleaned up your legs while you used it. He brushed his teeth while you did yours, and then he waited for you to remove your contacts and wash your face before leading you to bed. When he climbed in next to you, he kissed your lips and let you get as comfortable as you could before whispering, "I love you both." You were asleep before he turned off his lamp.
----------------------------
Leading up to Friday, Bradley kept trying to sneak off to confirm the plans he made for your birthday. But when he tried to call the lounge in Del Mar first thing in the morning, nobody answered, and if he tried later in the day, there was always an interruption. And that interruption was usually you. On Thursday evening, he finally managed to sneak away to the garage where he planned on working out as soon as he made the phone call.
Once he verified that you were nowhere in sight or within earshot, he had his phone pressed to his ear. When someone answered, he quickly said, "Hi, this is Bradley Bradshaw. I just wanted to confirm my rental agreement for the rooftop space for tomorrow night. I have the hour-long private event planned."
"Yes, sir. The space and the DJ are all yours from nine to ten o'clock tomorrow night."
"Great," he replied, head still on a swivel even though he was pretty sure you were doing a load of laundry inside the house. That's when you came strolling into the garage with a snack in your hand, and he quickly ended the call after a muttered thank you. "Hey," he told you as he awkwardly tossed his phone onto the tool bench and picked up one of his dumbbells.
You stood there in one of his old, stretched out tee shirts and a pair of maternity shorts and chewed on an unsalted pretzel. "Who were you talking to?" you asked. He should have known he wasn't going to get away with you not noticing.
"Uh... nobody," he muttered, and you raised one eyebrow in response. He sighed. "I don't want to tell you, because it's a surprise for your birthday tomorrow, okay?"
You smiled and told him, "Okay, Roo. No worries." You bit into another pretzel, and Bradley realized how tired you looked.
"Did you finish eating dinner?"
"No," you replied softly. "I just want a few pretzels. I have like no appetite."
Your next appointment with Dr. Morris was coming up in a week, and he had been wondering if it was bad that you hadn't gained really any weight since before Christmas. Work had been very busy for you the past few days with the arrival of some sort of new scientific equipment that completely baffled him. You were exhausted after one round of sex now, which was definitely a change of pace from a month ago. He almost blushed when he thought about how the two of you spent your first wedding anniversary.
"I think you need to eat something with some substance or protein or something, Sweetheart."
"I can't," you snapped. "Everything else makes me feel awful. You should try being pregnant, Bradley. It kind of sucks."
He didn't know how to respond, because the last thing he wanted to do was piss you off the night before your birthday. "Okay. Well, will you let me know if I can get you anything?"
You nodded as you chewed up another pretzel before yawning. "I came out to watch you get all sweaty for a minute before I head to bed."
"In that case," he said, laying back on his bench, "let me get started, birthday girl."
You were smiling again as he unlocked his barbell and got to work.
----------------------------
You woke up on your birthday to the feel of Bradley's hand on your hip and his voice in your ear, slowly coaxing you from your dream. "Happy birthday, Sweetheart." You rolled over and were met with his brown eyes and his messy bed head, and he collected you in his arms. "It's my second favorite day of the year."
His body was warm, and the last thing you wanted to do was go to work today. "Pretty soon it will be your third favorite day of the year," you croaked. When his brow furrowed, you guided his hand to your belly and said, "Don't even try to tell me the Nugget's birthday won't surpass it."
Your husband shook his head. "It'll be a tie," he whispered, kissing your forehead as the baby thumped around. "Hey, Rosie is saying happy birthday, too!"
You moaned softly. "Rosie is hungry but doesn't seem to like any foods right now."
Bradley ran his fingers along your cheek before kissing that spot. "I'm hoping the hot sauce restaurant will hit the spot for you tonight. Plus I have a fun surprise for afterwards."
It was worth a try. Hot sauce was one of the only things that didn't sound disgusting to you at the moment. In fact, Bradley poured you a little bowl of your favorite kind for you to dip your granola bar into while he made some coffee, and you did feel a bit better. Your stomach gurgled as he plopped down onto the piano bench to play the birthday song and sing to you.
As ridiculous as he looked sitting there in his boxer briefs with his hair still a mess, you knew you could never love someone the way you loved him. He was going to be such a good dad. He already built the playset and had the nursery almost ready. He had a countdown going on his phone. He picked out an outfit for the baby to wear home from the hospital. And he took care of you all the time.
"I love you, Roo," you promised, wrapping him up in a hug and kissing along the gray hairs at his temple. "I can't wait for dinner later."
As soon as you were dressed in your hideous maternity tent, Bradley drove both of you to work, and you found yourself stifling yawn after yawn. You were beginning to doubt that you could make it through work let alone a whole date night, but you didn't want to tell him that. Not when he was playing your favorite songs and holding your hand while he drove. Not when he had his arm draped over your shoulders as he walked you all the way up to your office and kissed you like his life depended on it.
"I love you," he murmured before dropping down to one knee to press a kiss to your bump. "Be extra nice to Mommy today, little Nugget." You could feel her squirm around as she seemed to recognize his voice. "She's got a busy day planned for her birthday."
Then he was back on his feet, zipping his flight suit up fully, and with one last kiss, he was heading toward the elevators.
After just an hour in the lab, it was evident that the granola bar and hot sauce had not been enough for breakfast. You desperately wanted to sneak back to your office and dig around in your snack reserve in your desk to take the edge off if you could. You were currently waging a war between being hungry and simultaneously appalled by food.
"Are you okay?" Cat asked, nudging your arm with her elbow as Bickel droned on about the equipment that was on loan from Lemoore's engineering department. He was hoping that in the next two months, you and the others would be able to help him build a more streamlined interface for the F/A-18s. It wasn't that you weren't interested, because you were. You just couldn't focus very well at the moment.
"I'm fine," you told Cat who gave you side eye but stood quietly next to you. It would have been beneficial to have taken your birthday off and spent it in bed, but it was too late for that.
After an indeterminate amount of time, Bickel finally stopped talking, but then he called your name. You met his gaze and realized he looked very excited.
"Yes, sir?" you asked him, taking a step forward. You felt awful. Even the sound of your boot squeaking on the floor set your teeth on edge. Your head had begun to pound at some point in the morning, and now it felt like your brain was attacking your skull.
"Come help me test it out," he said, his voice grating on your nerves in a way it never had before.
Your next step was a bit of a stumble, and you tried to reach for the edge of the counter. You were going to throw up. The urge to gag left you reeling, searching for something to hold onto. Cat was calling your name as Bickel's eyes went wide, but when you reached for him, your hand caught on the instrumentation instead. It hurt a lot, but it didn't hurt nearly as much as your knee connecting with the cabinet. You needed someone to reach you before you hit the floor, but you weren't that lucky. You wrapped your arm around your belly the best you could, but as soon as you hit the floor, you were met with blackness.
-----------------------------
Bradley didn't really need practice dogfighting, but it certainly was fun anyway. Especially when he was up against Jake late in the morning. The taunting was comical and getting more absurd by the minute.
"Hey, Hangman, why don't you hang it up, man. You're done," he said as he shot the other pilot down for the third time in a row.
"Lay an egg, birdman," came the response through his helmet that made him chuckle.
Bradley was just pulling up on his throttle to gain some altitude and go again when he heard Maverick's voice crackle through his helmet.
"Wheels on the tarmac. Both of you. Rooster first, then Hangman." The tone of his voice left Bradley wondering what was going on. The weather was beautiful, and he was actually enjoying this exercise immensely. In a few hours, he'd be feeding you anything you wanted off the dinner menu at your favorite restaurant before indulging you in your very own, private silent disco.
But as soon as he touched down and started to taxi back toward the hangar, he saw Maverick and Nat running his way. Then he heard her voice through his helmet. "Open your canopy. You need to get out now. Your wife is in the emergency room."
A chill colder than ice shot through his body. Something was wrong with you or the baby, and he hadn't been there to help you. "What?" he gasped, saliva starting to pool at the back of his tongue, making it hard to swallow. "What happened?"
Nat didn't respond, but as soon as his jet came to a stop, she had his ladder ready for him. The rush of fresh air that hit him as his canopy opened did nothing to make him feel better as she shouted for him to climb down. Something happened to one of his girls. He hadn't been there. As soon as he was able to control his body, he climbed down as quickly as he could, skipping the last few rungs. When Nat reached for his hand, he could see the alarmed look in her eyes, and he started crying.
"What happened?" he asked again, but she just pulled her car keys from her pocket while she grasped his hand, and he ran with her to the parking garage.
--------------------------------
Omg, why am I doing this? I hope Nat can drive fast. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 10
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#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster x you#rooster x reader#rooster imagine#rooster fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw imagine#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradshaw fic#top gun imagine#top gun maverick imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#roosterforme#aim for the sky
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(🔞) — "you can only touch me when the music stops."
w: bf!gyu × fem!reader, unprotected sex, pussy eating/slapping, dirty talk, little mutual seductive games?shows? (wildness wildness wildness wildness)
~
You had been busy all week, so when the weekend came, the excitement of having a chance to spend time with each other made you both silly.
This time Beomgyu was at your house and you realized once again that the house was really empty without him today.
You could have chatted in your bedroom until dawn. It was probably your favorite thing. Both of you would take turns talking about your week; Beomgyu's tragic events with his boss, or your annoying teachers were the most viral topics of your nightly chats.
For you, talking only under the moonlight and the led lights made this activity extra special.
That's why tonight you were sitting in your bedroom, which you had decorated together.
But tonight, something was different.
"Hey, is your alarm going off?" Beomgyu was the first to hear the strange sound coming from under the covers.
"Oh, yeah." You hurriedly found your phone and stopped the stupid sound.
Annoying music is always ideal for alarms.
You smiled at Beomgyu. "I forgot to turn it off." And he smiled back. "My love, are you setting an alarm for this time?" It was funny to him because he had never seen you set an alarm for the night before.
"Yeah, it's just a new way of getting to bed early." you laughed to yourself. "I'm too stubborn to ignore alarms."
"Yeah, I've noticed." He always hid something in that smile. "That's because you're so used to it that instead of turning it off again, you snoozed."
"Oh?" A real laugh this time. "God, I've been so stupid for the last week."
He looked at you as if to say you were cute instead of stupid. You reached for the bedside drawer with the phone in your hand but he stopped you.
"You're gonna cancel the alarm?"
"Yes."
"How many times does the alarm go off before it automatically goes off?"
"Um... I think it's 7?"
"So it's gonna go off 6 more times?"
"Mhm."
"Okay, so how many minutes does the snooze last?"
"Five."
"Good."
"What's on your mind?"
You smiled together, his was much dirtier. "Do you wanna play a game?"
"What kind of game?" asked curiously.
"It's like..." he licked his bottom lip. "Only when the alarm stops going off, you can touch me" whispered. "And I'll touch you."
"Wow."
Your body warmed up to what he was offering you, his little games and his cheekiness.
You realized that the game he was talking about would give you both heaven and hell, he let you think about it. He always liked to start fires.
You crawled towards him, he watched you curiously. Seeing in his eyes the endless desire he had for you. The only good thing about all those stupid days and weeks was that Choi Beomgyu belonged to you.
“I think the second alarm is less than 5 minutes away.” you whispered. Your foreheads touched, fortunately you liked playing with fire as much as he did.
His smile slowly left his face during the whole conversation. He put his hand on your cheek and joined your lips passionately. Your hair caressed his face, your bangs tangled. You listened to the wet sounds of your slow and warm kiss. And his humming.
Sounds were Beomgyu's weak point, he always went wild to hear more.
He bit your lower lip “Come here.” grabbed your hips and helped you sit on his lap.
This time he pressed your tongues together before your lips and you knew he wasn't closing his eyes. His hand moved down into your shorts and touched your bare cheeks. His palm was warm.
Your teeth touched his upper lip. Beomgyu opened his mouth and closed his eyes, letting you bite him as much as you wanted.
You squeezed his hair at the nape of his neck as his right hand slipped between your thighs and reached your pussy. He pressed his middle and ring finger against your hole through the panties and not even a few seconds into feeling that sweet pressure, the annoying sound was heard.
Second alert.
Beomgyu slowly pulled his hand out of your shorts and your whole body trembled with disappointment. You took your hands off him and got off his lap, reached for your phone and snoozed the alarm.
Beomgyu's cheeks were pink, he didn't like the space in his lap, but there was still a smile on his lips. “Do you like it?”
You leaned your back against the headboard and hugged your legs. You watched as he put his fingers to his lips, wet from having just touched your panties.
His cat tongue appeared between his lips, wiped his middle and ring finger nicely and went back inside.
My god. You gulped, looking like he was waiting for an answer to his question.
Really? He followed curiously as your hands moved down to your shorts. You locked your eyes on his as you slowly removed the soft fabric from your legs.
Beomgyu pressed his lips together and immediately looked into your eyes after your shorts fell to the floor. He wasn't smiling anymore, he was just there looking at you with his messy hair and going a little insane.
His eyes widened when your hand went to your hips again. “No.” Beomgyu growled. But what could stop you?
“Y/n...” He watched with his open mouth as your thin black underwear made its slow journey down your legs. Your t-shirt covered your thighs and you licked your lips, ending the show you were putting on for him.
You were happy to do such a good job while wanting his hands all over you. Beomgyu pressed his hand to the bulge in his pants and backed up a little. Cursing silently, closed his eyes and threw his head back.
By now your hands were sweaty and your t-shirt was a rag in your palms, you bit your lower lip excitedly. The sound of your phone letting you know that the stupid time you'd been trying to count in your head over and over again had come to an end.
And God knows, it was the first time you liked that brain-piercing sound so much.
Third alarm.
Beomgyu didn't even let you move. When he was on top of you with a speed you had never seen before, you squeezed his shoulders impatiently, but he wasn't thinking the same thing.
He pulled you down and holding your knees, spread your legs and buried his face in your pussy.
“Oh my-” at the end of a hellish five minutes, you regained the warm sensation of his mouth.
“B-beomgyu...” grabbed his hair. He repeatedly opened and closed his mouth over your hole as if his life depended on it.
He was squeezing and lifting your hips and making you settle better in his mouth, he was the best at it.
“Mmm” All those sounds he was making from you as your juices mixed with his saliva, almost making him cum too.
He parted your lips with his fingers and stubbornly pressed his tongue deep inside you. Just like he needed it more than you did.
He lifted his head and watched you drip a little more intensely and looked at that wonderful expression on your face. With his right hand he slapped your pleasure spot hard, “Ah!” that made you squirt a little. That's exactly why you felt you couldn't take it anymore when he landed the second slap harder. “Beomgyu, no-” you didn't want to cum right away but you wanted him to make you squirt like crazy.
You got up on your elbows, Beomgyu stuck his tongue out, looking into your eyes as his mouth covered all over your pussy again.
Well, you wouldn't mind coming more than once tonight, would you?
Just as your stomach is trembling with pleasure and you feel one step closer to the high...
Fourth alarm.
"Fuck! Fuck..." you turned toward the phone and snoozed the alarm with a tap, almost as if you wanted to break it.
The sensation of his mouth disappeared. Beomgyu is a total stunner with a dripping chin, teary eyes and red lips.
He put his hands in his messy hair, combed it back and returned to a sitting position on the bed. You could see him panting with rage, pulled his shirt off and threw it on the floor.
It was his idea and you were having fun, but now you can see he hates himself.
As you sat up, Beomgyu turned his head towards you and watched your glistening thighs. His art.
You didn't feel the need to fix your messy hair like he did, just leaned your head back and sighed as your pussy throbbed like crazy.
You took turns looking at his thin bracelet, his hair tucked behind his ear, his naked upper body and the triangle in his pants.
"I hate myself." Beomgyu laughed and made you laugh too. Both laughed at what a sucker you were to each other.
You touched the hair clinging to your neck, only your breathing could be heard in the room. You had never been eaten so savagely by Beomgyu before.
"You're gonna take that off too?" he taunted, knew there was nothing under your shirt. His hand settled on his belt, it was obvious he wished for nothing more than to see you naked. And that you didn't like the space between your legs.
"No." you replied, "This is for you."
Beomgyu laughed, you could see what you had done to his cheeks.
You watched him unbuckle his belt, he didn't just throw it on the floor, he ran his fingers over its surface.
The few scenarios in which he used it on you unfolded as if they had always been there. Pressed your knees together, your vagina, sensitive as hell, made a wet sound and that made Beomgyu turn to you.
You've never seen his eyes so dark before: "Can you do it again?"
The voices...
Swallowed, his eyes were on your knees and thighs, everywhere. Slowly spread your legs and... 'Pop!'
He watched all over your vagina, which was soaked thanks to him, getting a little closer. "You're a fucking goddess." His breath hit your pussy, your eyes watered with desire. "Beomgyu..."
Eyes met, you felt your nipples itch as he smiled at the needy expression on your face.
He stepped back, dropped the belt he was holding and continued to watch you, that smile still on his face. "Your pussy has never tasted anything like this before, has it darling?" licked his lips, looking quite delighted. "Even if I let you sit on my face all night, you wouldn't get tired of dripping, right?"
"Beomgyu-" his dirty words coming out of his still glistening chin made you drip some more on your sheet, you pulled your legs towards you and hid.
"Ahah," Beomgyu laughed, looking down at your writhing body with pleasure. "Even if the fucking alarm doesn't go off, I can make you cum with my words."
You pressed your face into the pillow, Beomgyu followed your movements, wishing he was right behind you now. "You're such a good girl."
Guessed he was pressed against his cock again.
Fifth alarm.
You lifted your face and threw the pillow on the floor, Beomgyu didn't let you break your prone position and settled on top of you. He lifted your hips up and stood behind you, just as he had just imagined.
When his penis finally touched your vagina, you gave him your most beautiful moan ever. Closed your eyes as Beomgyu slowly entered you. All his hardness expanded you, hitting your clit, sliding over your wetness, filling you mercilessly...
Your immediate grip and squeeze caused Beomgyu to fall onto your back. "Ah, ah..." You swallowed almost too well for him to move. He put his hands on top of yours, his hot breath coming in behind your ear. At this point you both forgot about your little game, there was only desire and passion.
Beomgyu introduced you to his fastest tempo, your bodies started pounding against each other. Both of you smeared all your wetness on each other.
Beomgyu was trapped between your walls, forgetting the whole world and making you forget the whole world.
The electric sensation in your stomach again, the sound of the alarm you heard along with Beomgyu's growl, could not be prevented this time.
He reached for your phone and, cursing, turned off the alarm, threw it hard onto the bed. You laughed at the sound the phone made as it slipped over the sheets and landed on the floor.
Eyes closed with passion, Beomgyu returned to rummaging through you. Faster, faster pace.
With great pleasure, your boyfriend broke his own game and made you cum all over him and came deep inside you.
He put his face to your neck, felt the last wave of pleasure as the sound of your breaths fought.
"C-condom-"
"Fuck the condoms."
The taste of fucking with him raw for the first time.*
Beomgyu wrapped his arms around your waist and made you lie on his chest as he lay on his back on the bed. He found your hands, which you made into fists, and took them in his palm.
You've watched the ceiling many times on this bed, but now enjoy watching it as you lie on top of him.
"Did your phone break?"
~
!! do not 'fuck' the condoms, USE the condoms🖖!!
©dr-solomon 2024
#txt smut#txt hard hours#tomorrow x together imagines#txt imagines#txt scenarios#choi beomgyu smut#beomgyu smut#beomgyu imagines#beomgyu x reader#beomgyu scenarios#txt fanfic#tomorrow x together smut#choi beomgyu hard hours#beomgyu hard thoughts#beomgyu hard hours
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Heartsteel Kayn relationship HCs!
No warnings for this one, you may proceed.
(( Psst! Hey! It’s not explicitly listed that you are also a performer, but you are free to assume that! I like leaving stuff open for ya. Also I may have gone a bit overboard… Sorry! )) ~ OBBY 💗
Before Heartsteel
You’ve been with him before he was kicked out of his old band (maybe even well before he started his music career), so of course, Rhaast was no secret to you. He never was, really. You actually liked Rhaast and loved seeing him just go crazy and do what he wanted without much of a care of the consequences. Kayn figured this is why he was initially drawn to you, because you accepted this part of him.
His band was pretty much the opposite. They held him back extensively because of Rhaast. The situation itself and seeing him lash out time to time made you worried on how much more he could stand being with that group. Some days, you just let him rant to you. You don’t know much on the other members in general besides their names and their roles in the band, but seeing him so frustrated because of them felt like maybe it’s best if you didn’t.
When Kayn did get kicked out, you let him stay around for a bit. A bit eventually became a while. Totally weren’t preparing for this, you made sure there was plenty of room for him. An artist needs his own space after all, though he didn’t exactly pick up his guitar for some time.
It’s been rough for Kayn for a while. He was getting easily irritated over the smallest things and seemed to often get into fights online. You’ve had to keep him off social media more than once before he really made things worse for himself. His reputation has taken quite a hit when he was kicked out, so this was for the best if it means he doesn’t damage further by doing something stupid.
Rhaast, on the other hand, was a bit harder. Rhaast liked to leave a mark, mostly in a physical sense. There were times where you had to stop him from actually getting into serious trouble. It was hard to talk him out of it and sometimes you had to keep him from walking out that door. Doing such a thing did make you feel bad since you’re holding him back almost like his old band did with him, so there were times where you hesitated. Don’t get him wrong though, he knows you’re just worried about his wellbeing.
When he finally did pick up his guitar again, the songs he made were quite clearly targeted towards his old band. Rhaast was going all out and you encouraged that. Of course, these songs never went public for obvious reasons (though Rhaast almost argued with you to upload them somewhere). Hearing songs like these from him were really the one and only times where you can hear just how truly angry he was. Still, you were glad he was letting it out in a way that felt natural to him. Artists letting out their frustrations through songs weren’t uncommon, and most of the ones out there needed to have their listeners read between the lines to understand and see the artist. But you? You didn’t have to. It was all right there in front of you.
Approaching Kayn on the topic itself is rather difficult as he tends to get defensive and dismissive over it, so really, the best you could do was get his mind off of it for a little while. Anything works as long as he was doing something, anything. It didn’t matter what it was.
It’d take quite some time for him to actually come to you for comfort on the matter. When he does though, it was a huge weight off of both of your shoulders. It basically just happened one night, and it was one of those nights for him where his thoughts were keeping him awake. He can’t sleep, you can’t sleep either, so you two just kind of talked for a bit to tire each other out. Eventually, the topic shifts and you can feel his hold on you tighten ever so slightly.
Kayn almost never showed a vulnerable side of him, especially around you. He had his own reasons for that. On the rare occasion that he does, know that it means he trusts you more than anything.
He is happy that you stayed and helped him as long as you did (both being his muse and just supporting him). He makes you aware of it during that night and he does continue to show his appreciation in his own way, whether it’s simply some quality time or even writing a song for you.
Things did eventually calm down and Kayn was beginning to just enjoy doing what he wanted to do again just for the fun of it rather than out of spite. As long as he’s happier now. There’s nothing else to say about his old band.
General stuff between you two
Teasing. So much teasing… He loves your flustered and/or slightly annoyed look when he does it. He finds it adorable.
Kayn can drive but for the love of god never actually let him drive. The chances of getting pulled over and arrested for reckless driving is really high up there. Just let him be in charge of the music, he’ll at least he satisfied with that.
You two still text each other on Discord even if you’re in the same room. He just likes hearing you laugh over what he sends. This does include videos he finds online that he thinks (knows) you’ll laugh to.
Matching hair color! It’s fun, a pain in the ass to get done, but fun. There was a bit of a mess in the bathroom though, and that wasn’t fun to clean.
“Hah! It looks like a murder took place in here!” “I murdered your hair, that’s for sure.” “What?! Are you kidding me? This isn’t the first time you did my hair! It’s perfect!” “Well yeah, but your long hair is gone… I really loved your long hair…” “I mean- It’ll grow back eventually.”
Lunch and dinner sometimes include ordering some food and having it delivered, then eating it in your shared room. Is it healthy food? No, but hey, at least you’re both eating food. If it wasn’t that, then one of you was cooking. Kayn’s cooking is not that bad, but it could be better. Don’t say that though.
Doing each other’s makeup. Although, it started with you wanting to do his and him saying he’ll let you do it if you let him do yours. Now it’s routine.
Playing with his hair. Loves it when you do it. Just him laying his head beside you, or on your chest, with your hands running through his hair. It calms him down and makes him sleepy sometimes. He’ll deny it though.
“Sleepy?” “No.” *literally about to fall asleep* “Sureee.” “Shut up.”
Though there are some nights where one of you can’t fall asleep no matter what you do. Whether it’s insomnia or the other just won’t shut the fuck up (Kayn), at least one of you is still awake. If you feel someone brushing your hair in the middle of the night and giving small pecks, it’s totally not Kayn.
Heartsteel
When Heartsteel found one of his songs and sent him a message, you were okay with him eventually moving in with the group. Kayn has been talking about them for some time, and you think this might be good for him. From what he’s been telling you, these people accept Rhaast. Totally not the one reason why you were okay with it in the first place.
He often texts you about what’s going on and teases you by asking if you miss him. Say no. :) Sometimes complains to you about Yone, but it’s just him being assigned a chore (dish duty).
It does get a bit lonely sometimes now, but he’s happy to be around a group of people that doesn’t push Rhaast away so it doesn’t bother you. Kayn does make up for it by calling you and sometimes dropping by. The second one isn’t often though. Again, gotta keep fans and paparazzi from finding out about your relationship. Although speaking of calls, there were times where you two fell asleep while on call. It usually ends with one of your phones running out of battery.
The group seems to know about you. Yone and Sett has heard of you once or twice, but K’Sante is the one that knows about you the most. According to K’Sante, Kayn talks about you a lot. Ezreal only knows about you cause he got a peak at his phone and saw your name thanks to one of your over night phone calls and he won’t stop asking Kayn about you.
“Dude who’s [name]??? Is that who you’re always talking to all night?” “The hell are you looking in my phone for??!”
Ahem… Kayn did get some relationship advice from K’Sante. Honestly this is exactly why he knows a lot about you from him.
Aphelios only knows about you because of Sett, who then tells Alune.
Kayn tried to keep the music video of Paranoia on the down low so it could surprise you, but he needed to tell you about the dog the moment they picked him up. With that aside, seeing the music video definitely put a smile on your face. He looked like he was having a lot of fun with the new band (you totally saw the Discord calls Aphelios leaked).
#RAAHHHHH I TRIED MY BEST WITH RHAAST HERE#I HOPE ITS GOOD#this went through so much editing and rewriting im gonna cry#obby’s scripts!#kayn x reader#heartsteel#heartsteel kayn#league of legends kayn#shieda kayn#lol kayn#league of legends headcanons#league of legends x reader
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Health and Hybrids (XXX)👽👻💚
[I can't remember the original prompt posters for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]
🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.
💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts 💚 (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)
Where we last left off... Several therapeutic white boards were drawn on. Everyone reading was so good and normal about it. So were the characters, presumably.
Trigger warnings for this story: body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) | my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.
💚👻👽👻💚
Additionally: apologies to Adwen and Allmune on ao3, to whom I directly said I wouldn't do this; I lied. (Whoopsie).
Also additionally: Bonus fic snippet you may have missed
💚👻👽👻💚
“Are you hungry?” Danny’s new therapist asks, her fingers playing with her pen.
Danny shrugs.
Pretty quickly, they’d figured out that these sessions went…worse…when Danny was hungry. Hunger makes him upset. Being upset makes him want to speak less. Not talking ruins the whole affair.
“Want to talk?”
Danny shakes his head, and sprawls out onto the couch—he’s allowed to basically position himself however he feels comfortable in the room, and if he has a choice, he’d rather just hang out horizontal. Does it make getting back into his chair harder? Yes. Is there a lady with super strength right outside his the office door who is willing to pick him up at a moment’s notice? Also yes.
(It’s kind of silly, but, if his legs ever stop feeling so sore…Danny is. Well.)
(He’s kind of curious how tall he’d be if Diana held him piggyback.)
“Want to draw? Paint?”
Drawing is a high-stress activity. Danny tends to default to memories when he draws these days, and he’d rather not think about that right now. Finger-painting is another option, but it’s pretty messy…even if it would be fun…
Danny’s therapist (?) (he's pretty sure that’s what she is?) is a blonde woman, with a quiet face and piercing eyes. She’d probably be less intimidating if they knew each other’s language, if Danny’s being honest; usually these types of people try to talk their way out of being intimidating. Instead, Danny sits on her pinstripe couch in unbranded sweatpants and a thin white tee, and she wears a suitjacket over her tights.
It’s all very strange. It’s not more strange than his chaperone’s usual outfit of plate armor and tiara, but still.
“Want the language bócastréon again?”
…Danny hums in thought, hands crossed across his chest. He’s pretty sure they’ve tried building a thing that’ll detect his language, like, three different times by now, but every time it winds up like the Fenton Ghost Gabber: mindlessly repeating his words back to him, unable to make heads or tails on translation. At least these trials don’t end every one of his statements with I am a ghost, fear me.
Oh well. It’s better than nothing. Danny shrugs.
The therapist clicks the machine on from a switchpad at her elbow, and a blue holographic screen fills the air. Danny only spends a little bit of time batting at the display like a cat, watching the light play off his hands for his own amusement.
“Please begin,” the thing says, and the same text pops up on the screen.
“S’up,” Danny tells it, and grins when the little display starts its very, very, long, and very, very familiar, buffering process.
Danny already knows this isn’t going to work. He might as well have fun with it.
He talks about his day, he talks about his old bedroom; he talks about what he had for lunch, toying with one of the sucker-toys he woke up with ages ago even though he doesn’t know who gave them to him. He talks about his friends, because he loves them—not Tuck and Sam, who he’ll miss the rest of his life, but Mikey and Poindexter, and what school had been like for him. Quiet topics. Easy topics.
Normal topics.
…Danny isn’t’ sure he’ll ever have normalcy again, but…remembering it isn’t so bad either. He plays with his weird suction cup toy with both hands and he talks.
“…So I ended up getting stuck without the Speeder like a million zillion miles from the portal. I thought Jazz was going to kill me, since she needed it to take her girlfriend to prom the literal next night, so I had to run around for like forty minutes looking for someone to help me out— but at least Wulf was like ‘Ne estas problemo’ and he helped me sniff out the weird cheese Vlad had left in the center console of the Speeder the week before—“
The box beeps. “Lingvo identigita: Kryptonian.”
Danny bolts upright as fast as his limbs let him.
Danny was never as good as Tucker was with Esperanto, but— But that’s Esperanto. Danny’s hung out with Wulf long enough, did enough Duodioma with the stupid little muppet bird mascot. The box didn’t call it the right thing, but—
—But—
The therapist looks at Danny, eyes wide. Danny can’t even look at her. He’s too busy staring at the discount-aisle Ghost Gabber.
“Diru ĝin denove,” Danny demands sharply. Say it again.
The screen automatically translates his words as he speaks—in Esperanto, and then into their own language, the two transcriptions populating side by side when Danny speaks.
At this point, the woman’s mouth is open. Danny would be right there with her, but—
Danny sits there, numb.
He has a language. A language that is mostly guesswork on his part and the occasional swears Wulf will teach him as a joke, but, still, a language.
A language made up by a doctor in Poland. In the eighteen…somethings. And these people with superpowers know it. And they know what it is.
And the therapist looks at him, stunned, with new eyes, as if she knows something new about him now.
…What the hell is Kryptonian?
*
There isn’t Kryptonian plural. Danny thought there there might be.
There isn’t.There is pretty much only one.
One. Singular. Kryptonian.
That feels worse, somehow.
*
Notes taken [DATE REDACTED] 2023, 22:37 UTC.
Participants are:
KE: Kal-El of Krypton, Codename: Superman. JD: Patient, John Doe, Codename: N/A. Patient file attached.
Note: Conversation was recorded in Kryptonian. Machine translation has been provided for convenience.
*Addendum: Yeah, I can get Jor-El on this, no problem –Supes
KE: This conversation will be recorded. Are you alright with that? JD: Conver…? KE: (Writing gesture) This talk. JD: Oh! Yes. KE: Good morning. My name is Kal-El, and I am of Kryptonian descent. On Earth, I serve as a protector. My title on Earth is Superman. JD: Superman? KE: Yes. JD: (Laugh) KE: Thank you. May I know your name? JD: (No answer) KE: Take your time. You may decline as well. JD: …I… (Pause). I do not… KE: That is alright. Do you have hobbies? JD: …What? KE: What do you like to do? JD: …I like to learn about space. I like to…when the fast child…we play games? KE: The fast kid? Impulse? JD: Impulse? (Incredulous) KE: That is his title, yes. JD: Why is his name Impulse? That is… Is that an insult? KE: I think he chose it? JD: (Stunned silence) KE: You like space? JD: Y…yes. KE: Tell me about it? JD: Do they not tell you about me? KE: I hear news. I have not met you face to face. JD: (Shrugs) KE: Not since you bit me, anyway? JD: I bit you? (Incredulous) KE: You were injured, and you were scared. I did not mind. JD: I am sorry! It was an accident! (Upset) I did not mean to! I do not remember— KE: It is alright, it is alright! (Placating) JD: (Cries) KE: Hey… (Touches shoulder) Oh, sorry. I should not do that. It is alright. My dog bit me yesterday, and my son bit me the day before. It is alright. You did not hurt me. JD: (Still crying, hard to decipher) You have a dog? KE: Yes! I have a dog! He is also from space. His name is Krypto. Here, I have pictures! (Takes out communicator)
*NOTE: pictures mentioned contain images of Superdog and Superboy(II)
JD: (Still crying) Are you supposed to ask me questions?? I have been here… I have been here for a long time. People want to know about what I am, and where am I from, and what I can do, yes? KE: Well…yes, but there is a lot of time. There is no limit. JD: (Wipes nose.) KE: All I am supposed to ask you today is if you have any allergies. See?
*NOTE: List of potential allergens has been attached to patient file.
JD: (Takes list from KE) Allergi…? Oh. No. I am… No food makes me sick. I can eat all foods. I cannot take…there is a sick medicine. For a cough. I cannot take that. KE: Good to know! (Alarmed) I’ll tell your doctors. Do you like your doctors? JD: …Yes. (Shyly) They are nice. KE: Wonder Woman says that she already asked if you feel safe. Do you feel safe with your doctors? JD: I do. Everyone here is kind. I eat a lot. I get exercise. We play games. I take breaks. I see space. I do not worry here, unless I get scared by accident. KE: I am…very glad to hear that. (Chokes up.) My son is about half your height. If my son was far away, I would want someone to help him too. We only want to do our best for you, alright? Please tell us if something is wrong. JD: So I can fight? KE: Pardon? JD: I am meant to fight, right? KE: No, no—not fighting. Just healing. And resting. JD: And then after… I am supposed to fight? KE: No. No, not—you don’t have to fight. The only thing we need is for you to be healthy. We don’t need you to fight anyone. JD: Everyone wants me to fight. (Begins stimming with slime) There are many children here. They all fight. I am eventually going to have to fight. I know.
*NOTE: Slime was provided by Medical team for therapeutic use.
KE: (Pause) Who is everyone? JD: (Silence) KE: Did someone make you fight, before? Is that why you were injured? JD: (Silence) KE: I am sorry if they did. That is not fair. You are not an adult yet, and even adults should not have to fight unless they enlist purposefully. You are a child. JD: No one thinks I am a child. KE: Who said that? JD: (Silence) KE: Did someone hurt you? JD: (Pause) I do not want to talk. KE: Alright. Can you tell me why you do not want to talk? JD: (Silence) KE: Would you like to fight? JD: I am good at fighting. KE: That is not what I asked. JD: There is no choice? When there are bad things and bad people, someone has to fight. I am strong—when I am not injured, I am strong. I fight. There are people who are not strong, and cannot fight. I can fight. I fight. KE: (Silence) JD: This is why you are healing me. KE: (Pause) No, little one. That is not why. JD: (Pause) Oh. (Puts down slime) Am I…am I going to be data again? Are you going to test my body? KE: (Puts face into hands)
[PAGE 1 OF 4]
[Interview is to be reviewed by Black Canary and Dr. Pranathi Russo MD, Pediatric Psychologist.]
*
“It’s bad!” Clark says with a watery smile, because Clark isn’t Superman at the moment—in Bruce’s home office, as private as a place as the world can get, Bruce is only Bruce, and Clark is only Clark.
When Black Canary had suggested that their debrief happen somewhere private where Clark felt safe, Bruce had known that there would be bad news. Still, he pours a mug of coffee that Clark will metabolize all the caffeine out of anyway, and pours a long, thick cup of the stuff for himself, and settles back into his warm leather chair.
“Tell me,” Bruce says, not quite Batman, but not quite Bruce either.
“Bruce, he ‘knows’ we’re going to make him fight. He thinks we’re healing him to be a child soldier.” Clark’s laugh is half joke and half derision. Bruce thinks that he understands. “He thinks we’re keeping him here as—like property, where if we pick up something dumped on the side of the road, we can fix it back up and put it to work. Like an engine, or, or…or like a lawnmower. It’s awful.”
Bruce skips the creamer and goes straight to the Baileys beneath his desk for garnishing.
On the one hand, Dick has been flying out in Gotham since he was a preteen. There had been no question about training him; training was the way one kept their children safe, the same way that Alfred had taught Bruce how to shoot as a child—no matter how much Bruce had loathed it at the time.
On the other hand, Jason’s death plays out in his nightmares in technicolor around…once every few months.
The fires. The flames.
(The alien boy found in a wrecked vehicle outside the Kent farmhouse, curled up in fear.)
Bruce thinks about Damian, and how long it had taken for Damian to understand he could be loved as a child who loved animals, and not a future prince of Gotham.
…Bruce passes the Baileys to Clark.
The Kryptonian won’t absorb any of the alcohol in any meaningful way, but he dumps the remainder of the bottle into his coffee nevertheless.
#tw alcohol#specifically as a coping mechanism#Clark has his own turn to go through it#after that Dinah has HER own chance to go through it#happy chapter thirty to all and to all a good (looks at clock) afternoon#after that the medical team all takes their turn going through it/having realizations as to why Danny's been VERY compliant#the important thing to remember about working in medicine is that you can't go around crying all over your pediatric patients#it freaks them the fuck out. And then where will you be? That's right: with freaked out patients#health and hybrids#danny phantom#dp x dc#tw medical#tw gore#tw body horror#although at this point we're mostly a recovery fic#dcu crossover#dpxdc#dcxdp#faer fic
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Hellooooo! Can I request bangchan x innocent!reader? Kind of like corruption kink, also, reader is a virgin. And can you pls pls pls add some overstimulation plss? Sending love 🩷🩷
Oh, definitely!!! Took me a bit to get actual good ideas and decide the flow and all that, but I think this one turned out really well. Hope it's what you were picturing 💗💗💗
Corruption
Summary: Chan was always aware of how innocent his step sister was. He was also aware of how good of a student she was, too. It always managed to feed into his imagination, and it didn't help that you were his ideal type. So imagine his surprise when he found the perfect blackmail to get his precious little sister to do whatever he wanted.
Pairing: Step Bro! Bangchan X Step Sis! Reader (F!)
Genre: Smut (MDNI!)
Warnings: Stepcest, Chan is manipulative, Reader is gullible, a little bit of bullying kinda? but they're step siblings so they're gonna pick on each other anyway, mentions of masturbation, nipple play, oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, dirty talk, p in v sex, unprotected penetrative sex (please wrap it before you tap it everyone), squirting, overstimulation, 100% 18+ (seriously like if you're a minor don't read pls and thank you <3)
Word Count: 5.3K
The first time Chan had ever met you was when his mom decided to have you and your dad over for dinner. At that point in time, your parents had been together for about a year and had finally deemed that it was time for you both to meet.
Now, Chan had been fully aware that his mom's boyfriend had a daughter. He knew that you were extremely kind and sweet, as his mom put it, and that you were a very good student. He had also found out that you were younger than him by about 6 years.
He was NOT warned about how beautiful you were. The second you had walked into his home, your crop top and very short shorts hugging your body in all of the right places, a sweatshirt tied around your waist as you took off your sandals and straightened your bangs out and tightened your ponytail...he already knew he was fucked.
You were the definition of his ideal type. A perky chest, curves, thick thighs...someone who was extremely kind and considerate, and wanted nothing more than to just help out where they could...god, you were perfect.
That night, during dinner, you paid attention to every detail him or his mom had said. What his interests were, what his mom liked in children, rules that they had in the household, and so much more. You took all of that information in and remembered it. Every question you were asked was answered with such...perfect answers.
How were your grades? All A's, with a few B's, but nothing too extreme.
What were you majoring in? No clue, you were just focusing on generals at a local community college until you figured out the career path you wanted to take.
What were some of your favorite hobbies? Writing, reading, drawing, sometimes even going on walks or going to the library to study on fascinating topics.
What chores did you usually do? Anything that had to be done, but you weren't a fan of doing the dishes because of the small bits of food that would touch your hand and scare the crap out of you.
You were like an angel from heaven. Even after dinner, when Chan and his mom were cleaning up, you offered to help dry dishes and tidy up a bit. It was unbelievable.
You were unbelievable.
Eventually, over the years, Chan got to know you better. And he got to understand that you were, in fact, innocent. You didn't know anything about sex, you didn't cuss, you went to church with your dad every Sunday at 9am, you've never done drugs or drank alcohol, and you had beliefs that prevented you from doing any wrong.
Upon finding this out, Chan realized something that stirred within him. He wanted to taint you. He wanted to corrupt you, make you the farthest thing from innocent. He fantasized about it, thinking up ideas on how he'd be able to get you to succumb to him. But he never acted on it.
But that feeling lingered. And it only got worse when your dad and his mom got married, which resulted in him and his mom moving in with you and your dad. Your house was bigger, anyway. It could easily fit the two of them.
But God, those feelings of wanting to corrupt you got so much worse. He was around you so much more often, seeing you do tasks so...seductively. And you weren't even trying to.
One time, the remote to the TV fell underneath the couch while you and him were watching an anime series. You had instantly got to the ground, got on all fours, and reached underneath the couch to grab the remote. And in the process, Chan got a whole view of your ass. Your perfect ass in those gym shorts, your pussy outlined just enough to give him ideas.
There was another time you had been doing laundry, and was just switching the loads around. Chan just happened to walk by when he saw you bent over in an oversized t-shirt, the only thing covering your cunt being your panties as you swapped loads.
What Chan wouldn't do to give you his.
It got to the point where Chan couldn't help but steal your panties when it was his turn to do the laundry and jerk off with it. It felt like the only way he'd ever get to even have you. Breathing in what your pussy could smell like, maybe even putting your panties in his mouth to try and get a taste...
It was getting bad. Chan knew he'd have to do something at this point. He had to get you, he had to have you. But how? You were perfect, you did no wrong. And you would NEVER just...do it because he wanted it.
Well, luckily for Chan, an opportunity presented itself.
See, you were in college. Both of you were, which was why both of you still lived at home. Better than the dorms, much better.
Because you were in college, you had to take a very important test for your major, known as the Literary Composition Exam, or the LCE. You had spent weeks studying for this test. You'd spend hours locked up in your room, going over every little bit of material that was available to you, doing whatever it took to make absolute certain that you passed.
Except...you didn't.
For whatever reason, when you went to take the exam, the material wasn't the same as the stuff you had studied. And so, while some of it was the same, you did your best to answer everything correctly.
But when you received the test today, you had seen that you had failed it. Miserably. Your heart sank, even as you took it out of your backpack once you got home. How were you supposed to tell your parents? You...you couldn't. You refused to share that with them.
You gently placed the test face down on your desk, putting a few papers over it before going to the bathroom. Maybe...maybe a warm shower would help melt that stress away.
But as you were taking a shower, Chan had gone into your room. It was his turn to do the laundry this week and was going and collecting all of the dirty clothing from each room. Your room was the last Chan had to go to, and then he could get all of the loads started.
But as he went to your closet, he noticed a paper underneath some others. It looked like all marked up, and he couldn't help but be curious. Weren't you supposed to get your results back for your LCE today?
Chan took that moment, reaching for the paper and sliding it out from under the others. Instantly, his eyes widened. This...this was your test. This was the test that you had spent weeks studying for, and you...you failed it. Chan couldn't believe his eyes as he grazed over all of the pen marks.
You, the perfect, most innocent daughter in your parents' eyes, had failed one of the most important tests that you'd ever have to take in your college career.
It was remarkable. Chan couldn't take his eyes off of it, looking at each question you had gotten wrong. There were so many...you usually aced every test that you ever took...EVER. Seeing how much you had gotten wrong was just insane.
And that...was when you walked back into your room.
You had changed into a sweatshirt and some gym shorts, your hair dried and in a ponytail. You had your dirty clothes in your hands, and had just wanted to lay down. But instead, you were met with the sight of Chan in your room, your failed LCE in his hands. Immediately, your heart dropped.
"Chan, what are you doing in my room?!" You were frantic, throwing your clothes to the side as you tried to reach for your test. But just before you could reach it, Chan held it out of your reach, raising a brow.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, I just wanted to look your test over. It's pretty interesting." Chan spoke. He went back to it, flipping through the endless pages. "It's not every day I get to see that you managed to fail anything, let alone one of the most important tests in your entire college career."
"Chan!"
"What, I'm just saying." Chan shrugged, continuing to keep your test away from you. You weren't amused, going to him and reaching for it, practically climbing onto his body to try and get the test from him.
"This isn't funny, give that test back!"
"No way, this is legendary."
"Chan, seriously!"
"I'm being serious! I already said I want to look at it, why are you so desperate to get...it...back...oh my god." Suddenly, Chan realized something. It was why you were so desperate to get that test back. "You haven't told mom and dad yet."
"No, and I really don't want to." God, just the idea of your parents finding out that you had completely bombed the single most important test in your entire college career made you sick to your stomach. But Chan? Oh, this gave him leverage. Something to hang over your head, to potentially use against you.
It couldn't be more perfect.
"You're not going to tell them? Really?" Chan raised a brow, looking back to the test. It was only for a moment, before he looked back at you, a smirk on his face. "Then I guess I'll have to break the news to them-"
"NO!" It was one thing for you to have to tell your parents, but if Chan told them first...? Oh, it'd be hell on earth.
"Well, they can't not know, Y/n."
"Yes, they can! There's a retake next month, and I'll be extra sure to pass this time, just...they can't know!"
"I don't know...keeping things from our parents is so...wrong, don't you think?" Chan then turned, starting to go towards the door. "I'm going to go and show them this. Keeping secrets is bad."
"Chan, please no!" Like that, you were wrapping your arms around his torso, holding him there in an attempt to keep him from leaving your room. He couldn't leave, or he'd tell. "Please...I-I'll do anything."
Oh, you shouldn't have said that. You really shouldn't have said that.
Chan slowly turned, not believing his ears. For a moment, his dick twitched, slowly starting to betray him as he looked at you, your eyes shining and begging him to stay and not go. To not tell your parents. Was this finally it? Was he getting the chance he had craved for so long?
"...anything?"
"Anything." You confirmed it, right then and there. You were really willing to do anything in order to keep Chan from blabbing to your parents. This was it. This was finally what Chan had craved for forever.
And he couldn't wait.
"Well then, I guess we can figure something out, can't we?" Chan said, handing you your test. You quickly took it back, moving to hide it once more. And you were going to hide it even better than you had. "I'll keep my mouth shut up until you've retaken the test and pass. But you have to do something for me, too."
"Okay, and that is...?" You asked, turning around. You weren't sure what Chan had up his sleeve, but you had said you'd do anything to keep the horrible grades a secret. You always kept your promises too, which Chan was very aware of. And so, he'd have to be careful about how he went about this.
"See, I was asked by a friend to do some research on how to best please a girl." God, he sounded so stupid. He sounded completely and utterly stupid. "And while porn exists and yada yada yada, I want to make sure that all of the techniques actually work. And since you said you'd do anything to keep this whole test thing a secret, I was thinking you could help me out. A favor for a favor."
Please work, please work, please work, please work, please work, please-
"Um, well I guess when you put it that way...I wouldn't mind, I suppose..." You bought it. Holy fucking shit, you bought it. Chan couldn't even believe his ears. "But I've never really...done anything like it before, so I don't have a preference."
"Oh, well...that's okay. I was thinking that maybe we could give some stuff a shot. Y'know, field test a bit." Keep squeezing the orange, Chan. He was so close; he was practically salivating at this point. "Obviously if you get uncomfortable, we can stop, but I just really want to help out my friend, you know? And you would really help me out in return."
Well, if that was the case, then you could understand why Chan wanted your help so bad. You were like a fly caught in his web at this point. He was simply asking for your help, and you trusted him.
"I mean, if it'll help out, then I guess I don't see the problem in it." Bingo. Chan couldn't believe that had actually worked. He thought you would've called him gross, that step siblings shouldn't do that kind of stuff. Part of him wanted to question you, figure out if you were serious or not. But it was only a small one.
He worked hard for this. He wasn't just about to give it up.
"Alright, then do you think you could clear up some time tonight? That way we can have plenty of time." Reality? Your parents were both leaving to be out of town around 5pm. They wouldn't be back until a few days later.
"Oh, yeah. That makes sense." God, just how gullible were you? Gullible enough to make Chan's cock throb, it seemed.
All he had to do was wait.
||
It took about 3 whole hours for your parents to actually leave. And while they only left thirty minutes behind schedule, it felt like hell on earth for Chan. He wanted nothing more than to get into your panties, play with you for hours and make you writhe and squirm and cry.
Chan wanted to make absolutely certain that they wouldn't be in the house, though. If your parents found out about this, he'd be in a whole world of trouble. Both of you would be.
And so, he waited a whole extra hour, watching the Life360 that your parents had forced you both onto, making sure they were far enough away to where he knew they weren't going to turn around. And once he was sure, he walked to your room and knocked on the door, stepping inside.
"Hey, you got some free time?" Chan walked inside, seeing you laying on your bed. You were only in an oversized shirt, thigh high socks, and panties, scrolling through your phone. God, just the outline of your cunt got Chan riled all over again.
"Yeah, what's up?" You asked, turning. You were so adorable, it hurt. Chan stepped inside more, gently shutting the door before walking over to you, before sitting on your bed.
"I was wondering if we could start trying stuff out. Figure out what pleases you best." Chan said, watching your face light up as you remembered what he was talking about.
"Oh, okay. Sure." You said, moving to sit up. Chan smiled, moving a bit so you'd have some room. "What exactly are we starting with?"
"Well, I wanted to start with playing around with your breasts a bit. I've heard that feels nice." Chan said, his hands fidgeting with themselves. They wanted to be on your body so badly. Finally touch something that was so pure.
"Okay." The second you gave him permission, Chan's hands were on you. He started by cupping the flesh through the shirt, gently massaging them as he watched you closely. Your breathing had hitched, your eyes watching what he was doing. But it was when he looked back down that his blood ran down to his cock.
"You...you aren't wearing a bra...?" Chan couldn't believe his eyes. Your nipples were perked, practically poking themselves through the shirt you had on.
"Well, yeah. Bras aren't that comfortable, so..." You just shrugged, before gasping as Chan brushed over them. He moved his thumbs back and forth against them, moving to pinch them gently. That got a whine out of you, and it was such a beautiful sound.
"Jesus...that feels nice?" Chan asked, watching you nod. That was good, and to him, an indication to go further. He carefully moved your shirt up, taking it off to see your bare chest in all of it's glory.
It was gorgeous. Nipples perky and stiff, your flesh round and supple. It was everything Chan could've wanted plus more. And when he touched your skin, it was so soft... it was soft and delicate and so perfect.
Every time his fingers flicked, pinched or messed with your nipples, you'd whine and squirm a bit, the sight always going straight to his dick. He was so hard, he wanted nothing more than to just flip you over and fuck you right then and there. But he wanted to take his time, too.
And that's what he did.
He moved his head down, eventually taking one of your breasts into his mouth, using his tongue to flick against your nipple and sucking on your skin. The feeling of it caused you to moan, arching your back into him more.
"Ch-Chan..." Oh, you moaning his name made him want to scream. He was so hard, you were so perfect, everything about this situation was perfect.
He eventually pulled off, looking up at you as he continued to mess around with your chest, giving you a cheeky smile. He knew what he was doing felt good.
"Good?"
"M-Mhm..."
"Mhm?" Chan couldn't help but laugh a bit, finding your reaction adorable. But he wanted to take things further. Just a little bit. "Can we go further? Want me to make you feel even better?"
"Ye...Yeah...Yes..."
"Alright...go ahead and lay down then."
As you laid down, Chan was finally able to see your panties for the first time. They were pink with white paw prints, a tiny little white bow on the front. They were so cute on you, practically signaling how innocent you truly were. And when Chan got himself between your legs, spreading your legs apart, he noticed the wet patch laying right over your cunt.
"Look at that...already so wet, and it's all for me..." Chan licked his lips, taking a hand off of your leg to your clothed pussy. Slowly, agonizingly so, he placed his pointer right where your clit should be, bringing it down to your hole. It was feather light, and it caused you to whine and squirm. "That feel nice? I bet it does, you're getting wetter by the second."
He wasn't wrong, unfortunately. That wet spot got bigger the more he spoke, the more he barely touched you. It was agonizing, yeah, but god, it was amazing, too.
Chan admired it for a moment. One of the many panties he'd steal were right here on your body, forming one of the largest wet patches he'd ever seen in his life. It was wrong. But god, did he not care. He didn't care in the slightest.
He eventually leaned his head down, pressing a kiss right onto your mound, breathing in your smell. Musky, but so so sweet. And once that was committed to memory, he figured it was time to get rid of the panties and see the real thing.
"Let's get these off of you, huh?" Chan's hands moved as he spoke, hooking around your panties and bringing them down your body, his eyes not leaving yours once until the panties were completely off. And the second he saw you, his everything stopped. His brain, his heart...the only thing that was working was his dick, and that thing was throbbing.
You were beautiful. It was the cutest little pussy Chan had ever seen in his life, glistening wet. And when he spread your folds open, he was met with a pink that rivaled the panties you had on. Not to mention how your hole was clenching, and your clit was peeking out from under it's hood.
"God...you're so fucking beautiful." Chan couldn't even take his eyes off of you. He took his finger again, gently touching the pink muscle, touching your clit and pulling it back to get a better look. It made you squirm, your hole clenching. "You have such a pretty pussy...and to think it's on my step sister..."
All you did was whine, not really knowing what to say. The touch felt nice, but his words were nicer. You'd never heard him talk like that before. And the pit that grew in your stomach when you heard it was beyond amazing.
Chan took a moment to continue just touching you, watching how you'd react to certain touches, where you liked to be touched. But he knew he could do more. He could do so much more.
And so, keeping his eyes on you, he lowered his head and gently flicked your clit once, watching as your breath hitched, your hips flinch a bit.
"That feel good?" Chan asked. He already knew the answer, and it was only further confirmed by you nodding.
With that nod, he went back down, using his tongue to give one long lick up your folds, before flicking your clit and coaxing it out of it's hood, gently suckling on the small bundle of nerves. That got a nice, loud moan out of you.
"Oh my...god, Chan...!" Oh, the way you said his name in such a vulnerable way...it was absolutely delicious. It made Chan groan, his hips bucking into the bed.
His pattern was immaculate. He'd suck on your clit, using his tongue to tease it in the meantime while his hands went to spread your cunt apart. He wanted to make sure that you were nice and vulnerable so he could really get in there. And oh, the moans you rewarded him with. They were absolutely perfect.
Your taste was even better. Salty, sweet, just a tiny bit of tang but not too much...It made him realize more and more just how much he craved you, how much he just wanted to ruin you into nothing.
Eventually, he went further, diving his tongue into your hole to really scrape out your juices, his nose consistently bumping into your clit. And it made you cry out, your legs wanting to close, feeling yourself get closer and closer to the edge. But Chan didn't let you. He gave your cunt one last lick before moving his hands to keep you spread once more, before looking up at you, licking his lips.
"Keep yourself spread, okay? I want you nice and wide so I can taste all of you." Chan spoke. You couldn't help but nod, feeling the need to comment.
"I...It feels really good, by the way. Whatever you're doing it...it feels really, really good."
"Does it?"
"Yeah..."
"Yeah?" Oh, the smile on Chan's face when you said that. You probably gave him that input so he knew this was good for his friend to know. But he wasn't here for that. No no no. He was here simply to get you to cum over, and over, until you couldn't take anymore.
He eventually dove back in, plunging his tongue into you while his arms and hands kept you nice and spread, not wanting you to squirm around too much. And he kept going, even as you began to buck your hips, trying to squirm and get away.
"Chan, I...I feel weird..." You could feel the coil in your gut, a form of tightness as you neared closer and closer. Chan could feel it too, as your legs were really starting to shake.
"It's okay, you're just gonna hit an orgasm soon." Chan's voice was muffled, due to his face being buried in your delicate cunt, which was dripping more and more of it's juices into his mouth. "Get there though, go ahead and just release it, okay? Can you do that for me?"
You could, and you did. You moaned out, your hips bucking as Chan practically latched himself onto you. He continued to work you through your orgasm, watching as you panted and shook, the orgasm washing right through you.
"There you go, good girl..." Once you had calmed down, Chan debated on moving on. He could let you experience his cock, which had been painfully throbbing to get into the pussy it's been wanting for so long. Or he could simply keep going with this.
That's what he did.
The second you stopped squirming, he latched right back onto your clit, making your squirm from the oversensitivity, feeling something new. Something different. You couldn't look down, as your back was arched and your head was thrown back, in nothing but pure ecstasy, but the second you felt something inside of you, you gasped, before getting louder.
You didn't know what it was, as Chan's head hadn't moved at all. But Chan knew. He had slipped a finger inside of you, and he groaned once he felt just how tight you were. He knew you were going to be tight, but he didn't expect what he had felt.
"God, you're so tight...how are you ever supposed to fit any cock in there, huh?" Chan pulled back, watching as you took his finger, Chan adding another one to watch you really grip it. "You're practically sucking in my fingers...does it feel that good? Are you that needy?"
All you could do was moan as Chan plunged his fingers deep into you, eventually curling them up and rubbing that gummy spot. It only took two small movements with his hands for you to cum again, your body shaking once more as your back arched again.
"Oh, you're so pretty when you cum like that, sis...look at you, squirming around for me and everything..." Chan couldn't take it anymore. If he didn't put himself inside of you, Chan would go insane.
And so, he pulled himself back, moving to get his cock out of his pants. The poor thing was red tipped, angry. It was harder than Chan had ever seen himself. But it didn't stop him from lining himself up with your entrance. Hell, it encouraged him to do so.
"You're being so good, letting me figure out what feels best for a girl. You're such an amazing little sister, helping me out with this, all because you don't want our parents to know about some silly little test grades..." As Chan spoke, he rubbed his tip against your cunt, coating himself with your juices as you whined and squirmed, the pleasure already too much for you.
But then, Chan pushed in. And both of you moaned out. For you, it was the stretch. He felt amazing when he went inside and stretched you out. And him? You were so tight, practically hugging his cock inside of you, gripping onto him for dear life.
"Jesus christ, you're like a fucking vice, squeezing me like that..." Chan eventually began to move, thrusting in and out. He was slow at first, knowing that this was your first time, and that you hadn't taken dick before.
But from the way you were moaning, he could tell you liked it. And so he sped up. He moved quicker, harsher. And you couldn't help but moan, feeling him move so quickly nonstop, not taking any breaks to catch his breath. All you could do was cry out, feeling him practically pound into you.
It was when Chan lifted up your leg when you felt him reach that gummy spot again, hitting it every single time without fail. And that got you to cum for the third time.
"C-CHAN!"
Your body shook as Chan stopped, quickly spitting on his hand to go and rub tight circles on your clit to help you through the orgasm, watching as your body shook and writhed from the pleasure. But this time, he didn't wait for you to calm down. No, after a few seconds, he started up again, grunting as he felt your walls flutter around him while he moved.
"God, you feel so good around me, squeezing me while you're cumming...my dick is just that good, huh? Does that feel good?" Chan asked, continuing to harshly thrust as he rubbed tight circles around your clit.
You simply whimpered, your hips bucking with every movement. It's like you couldn't control yourself anymore. Everything Chan was doing was incredible. You didn't know how, or why, but...it was amazing. It was overloading your brain. You felt so good, too good.
And before you even knew it, the fourth orgasm hit. And it hit hard.
At this point, you were so wet from all of the other orgasms and Chan's saliva that Chan slipped out, accidentally pulling out too much as your body trembled. And that was when it happened. You felt a new sensation, almost like a liquid was shooting out of you, and onto wherever it was landing.
You don't know, you couldn't think. But Chan knew, because it landed on him. Just seeing that made him groan as he stroked himself.
"Mm, you just squirted everywhere....making a fucking mess because my dick is just that good, yeah?" Once you had stopped, Chan was back inside of you, almost relentless at this point.
He just couldn't handle it. Seeing you squirt on him, on his cock, something that was so wrong and foul...it made him feral. He just couldn't believe it. He was surprised he didn't just cum from watching you do that.
But you...oh, you were so overwhelmed. So overstimulated. Everything felt way too good, and you were completely lost within the pleasure to even know what was happening. It was way too much, and your body was well aware of that.
"S'too much, I can't....! I can't, Chan, I...too much...!" It's all you were chanting at this point.
But Chan...he was finally getting the fantasy he had thought up for so long. Finally, you were here underneath him, absolutely wrecked and overstimulated, tears going down your cheeks from the overwhelming amount of pleasure he was bringing you.
"Give me one more...just one more, sis...please? You can do one more, I'll even go with you this time...please, just one more." At this point, he was getting desperate, too. But all you could do was shake your head, completely overwhelmed by the sheer amount of pleasure coursing into your body.
"I can't-"
"You can, I promise...I know you can, just one more..."
Before he even knew it, you came for the last time, screaming out his name from the sheer bliss. And this time, your walls fluttering around him was what did him in. He just groaned loudly as he filled you, still pumping into you as he rode both of your highs out.
Once he had come down from his high, he simply pulled out, flopping down next to you, pulling your shaking form next to him, both of you breathing heavily. Nothing was said, and nothing had to be said.
All that was known was that this definitely wouldn't be the first time this would end up happening.
Hey! Firstly, thank you so much for reading this post, and I really hope you enjoyed! If you did, please like, reblog, or comment so I can see how I'm doing with writing and getting feedback! I hope you have a lovely day! Sleep well, stay in good health, and eat something if you haven't! ❤️❤️❤️
Taglist: @miss-daisy04 @kayleefriedchicken @wolfs-archive @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @wolfs-howling @rose-w-00-d
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