#did he handle it well? no. but he did not want his kid to get into it and get hurt and he DID NOT WANT dealers around him

[minniesmutt]

𝔇𝔢𝔰𝔦𝔯𝔢: 𝔢𝔭𝔦𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔲𝔢

♱ ━━━  PAIRING: OT8 X READER ♱ ━━━  CW: PREGNANCY MENTIONS, BLOOD MENTIONS, GANGBANG, ORAL (F. & M. REC), FINGERING, UNPROTECTED SEX, MULTIPLE ORGASMS, CREAMPIE, CUM EATING, MARKING, BREAST PLAY, SPIT ROAST, DOUBLE PENETRATION, ANAL + VAGINAL PENETRATIONS ♱ ━━━  WC: 2.2K

     It took some getting used to. Being a vampire. But Y/n was glad she had eight partners to show her the ropes. She was ever so grateful to her Kingdom for putting aside their distaste towards the eight when they heard they had saved and taken care of their Queen. The church still fussed every now and then but the nine handled it. She’d earned the nickname “The Eternal Queen” after some time on the throne. After she was crowned, she had her father’s advisors arrested and now could have her own court. What better than asking the men who showed her love?

     They all accepted with a smile and many people from their town moved to join her kingdom. The land the vampires ruled just became a part of her kingdom. No one there caused any trouble with the queen ruling. Even helped ease the minds of others. 

     Three years of her reign thus far and without someone breathing down her neck and reprimanding her for the decisions she made, the kingdom was prospering like years past. One thing she found a little too hectic was how fast her two children had been growing. 

     It was a month later after her coronation, she ended up pregnant again. None of them played guess the father—though Minho was very much pushing for it to be his after what happened last time. Chan explained that it was common for fledglings born of two vampires to grow quickly but he did not classify how quickly. Y/n reprimanded him later when she gave birth to the group’s baby girl about four and a half months later.

     Even though she was all of their baby, there was no doubt it was Felix who was her biological father. The little girl was the spitting image of him. All the men cooed at the new princess and her little fangs.

     “I gather she’ll drink blood rather than milk,” Hwan asked. The maid had chosen to come work in the castle with a few other staff members from the manor. A few chose to stay behind to just keep it clean if the nine chose to come back for whatever reason.

     “I suppose so,” Y/n smiled as the boys handed her her daughter.

     “You feel alright?” Chan asked as he brushed her hair back. 

     “Bit hungry,” Y/n replied

     “I’ll go grab some blood,” Hwan said, leaving the family to be for a while.

     Medical staff had already left and Hwan was tending to Y/n now. The boys insisted they could do it but really the girl missed the royal. Y/n missed her too honestly.

     Even though she had gone through the process before, giving birth to her second baby wasn’t much better. It was easier though. Their son was seemingly the spitting image of Chan, just like her daughter was of Felix.

     “It’s a boy,” their daughter, Nabi, pointed out. It had only been two years since she was born but she looked about double her age now.

     “You have a baby brother now,” Jeongin said as Nabi sat on his lap.

     “I wanted a sister,” She complained 

     “Doesn’t quite work like that princess,” Hwan reminded the little girl     “It should.”

     “She’s just like you when you were a child,” one of the older maids from the castle said as she helped the younger clean up.

     Y/n loved her two children, just didn’t love how they were growing up. Chan had made it a point to get her as well as their children, day rings. The kids having to constantly get new ones with how they were growing. Chan assured her it would slow down but she wasn’t quite sure. 

     On top of the eight being her advisors, they had all gotten married. Everyone made a deal about having eight kings but the vampires assured them not all of them would take the throne. They decided, mostly given status, that Chan would publicly appear as the king but he was really more of an advisor. Letting her make all the decisions. Stood behind her when she had to make addresses. Uncalled for in their time but so was their relationship.

     “Darling,” Jisung said as he walked into her study. She’d been working all day on a few trade routes needing to be up and she hadn’t realized how much time really passed.

     “Hi, love.” She greeted him as he walked over to her desk. 

     “Kids are asleep. You should rest too,” He said, pulling the papers and fountain pen out of her hand

     “Ji, we both know I don’t need sleep anymore.” Y/n sighed

     “Just because you don’t need it doesn’t mean overworking. Come on,” Jisung pulled her up out of the chair.

     “Ji,” Y/n whined 

     “Y/n,” The male returned the energy.

     Y/n pouted at him only for him to laugh and wrap his arms around her. “I’m not making you rest love. We have a surprise in the bedroom though.”

     “Mhm, what kind of surprise?” Y/n inquired

     “You’ll have to see,” Jisung bent down and picked her up.

     Y/n smiled and held onto his shoulders. Jisung carried her out of her study and into their room. The seven others waiting for them as they entered the room.

     Once inside the room, Jisung put her on the ground and attached his lips to hers.

     “Really Jisung?” Minho questioned the vampire's eagerness

     “I carried her here. I think it’s fair I get first kisses. Plus if it wasn’t for me, none of this would be in this relationship.” The two bickered as Hyunjin came up behind her and kissed the side of her neck.

     “Hi pretty,” He said as he pulled her away from the vampire's arms.

     “Hi Hyun,” Y/n smiled, as she turned to face him. The rest gathered around slowly. Making sure everyone got their kisses after not seeing much of her for the day. 

     While Felix had her lips locked with his Changbin worked on unlacing her dress and undergarments. The boys worked to undress her completely before undressing themselves and pulling her to the large bed. Jeongin sat back with her on his lap. Y/n pressed her lips into his before he turned her around, her back against his chest. Seungmin kneeled next to them and pressed his lips onto hers whilst Jeongin attacked her neck. Both their hands spread her legs open. 

     Jisung took the chance to get back between her legs and lay on the bed between her spread legs. Jisung placed his hands on the inside of her thighs as his tongue lapped up the small bit of arousal that had started dripping out of her. Y/n moaned into Seungmins mouth before he pulled away and moved his lips down to her breasts. Hyunjin took the chance to connect his lips to hers as Jisung was making out with her cunt. Hyunjin’s tongue pushed into her and explored before pulling away and smiling at her. Y/n grabbed his thigh as Hyunjin sat up again. Her hand moved up and wrapped around her dick, pumping him before he took it upon himself to move closer and push himself inside of her mouth. 

     Y/n moaned around him as the other three toyed with her. The others waiting for their own turn. Hyunjin moved his hips and pushed himself into her throat as she moaned with each bit of stimulation they were giving her. She felt two fingers prod at her entrance, moaning as they entered her and Hyunjin spilled into her.

     Y/n took his load before he pulled out and watched her swallow his load. Hyunjin moved away and Felix took the chance to replace him as she clenched around the fingers inside her. Seungmin marked up her breasts while Jeongin marked her neck. Both keeping her spread open and Jeongins free hand playing with the breasts Seungmin wasn’t marking. 

     It wasn't much longer till she came on Jisung’s fingers and he licked her completely clean. Y/n whined as he pulled away from her, Minho taking his place between her legs. Tip of his dick teasing her and making her whine around Felix. His cock twitching as Minho pushed into her. He took hold of her thighs, freeing the other's hands.

     Minho let her adjust to him as Felix spilled down her throat before pulling out. Her head fell back onto Jeongin's shoulder as he lifted his head. “Doing so good love. Just let us take care of you,” Jeongin whispered in her ear.

     “Want more,” Y/n begged

     “Need another cock in you darling?” Minho teased as he slowly thrusted in and out of her

     “Yes. Wan’ be filled with you all.” If they weren’t hard before, they definitely were after hearing that.

     Jeongin slipped one of his fingers into her mouth and Y/n sucked the finger till he pulled out with a pop. He got his hand between her and Minho and slowly pushed his finger inside her. Y/n moaned before Seungmin sat up and turned her head to him and pushed his cock down her throat, watching her eyes roll back slightly. Jeongin fingered her ass slowly as Minho brought his fingers down to rub her clit as he slowly thrusted his dick in and out of her. 

     Jeongin slowly added another finger into her and spread her open from below. Y/n pulled away from Seungmin’s cock to beg the man below to put his cock in. Ever the ones to please their wife, Minho stopped his movement and allowed Jeongin to spread his precum around the hole and then slowly slip inside. 

     “Fuck,” Y/n moaned before taking her husband’s cock into her mouth again. 

     Jeongin moved slowly till he was fully sheathed inside of her. Giving her some time to adjust before moving with Minho inside of her. The two started slowly but she already was close to the edge of being completely filled. 

     Her body went limp with pleasure as she moaned and clenched around them. Minho and Jeongin both picked up their pace as Minho started toying with her clit again. Tipping her over the edge. The men groaned as she clenched around them. Jeongin spilled inside her first. 

     Shoving himself deep in her ass and coating her walls with his come. Seungmin moved his hips faster till he came in her throat. Minho fucked her harder before his cum spilled in her while Jeongin and Seungmin pulled out of her. 

     Minho pulled out as Jisung moved under her. His dick teased her ass before slipping in. Changbin took Minhos place and pushed his cock into her cunt. His hands held her open as Jisung moved his hands to grope her breasts as Chan offered his cock to her mouth. 

     Y/n took him into her mouth and sucked him off as the two fucked the other's cum back into her. Chan held the back of her head as he thrusted into her mouth. Her moans were muffled by his cock. 

     Her holes were being stretched and used but Y/n loved it. Loved them. Never has she regretted offering to play prisoner those years ago. Especially now as the three filled her more. 

     Each of them pushed deep into her as their cum mixed with the loads inside her as her own orgasm came again. The three pulled out and Hyunjin took Changbin’s spot. Laying back on the bed so she was on top. Felix took Jisungs place and the two slowly pushed into her. Y/n moaned as the two held her up and started pounding into her. 

     Strings of curses falling free from her mouth if there wasn’t a cock to keep her quiet now. Her hands were loosely planted on Hyunjins chest as the two pumped into her. 

     She’d only taken them all one other time, their wedding night. She somehow forgot how they were able to make her forget everything she’d ever thought about. Their hands roamed over her body, making her feel weightless. Knowing just where to touch her to get her to melt. 

     Felix’s hand grabbed her breasts as Hyunjin moved her hips with them. Her orgasm washed over before she knew it and the two emptied their loads in her. She blanked for the rest of the night. Tired from work and taking all eight of their cocks. Waking up in the morning with Hyunjin, Jisung, and Felix cuddling here. 

     “Passed out last night. We cleaned you up and tucked you in.” Felix explained. 

     “Not too much last night?” Hyunjin asked, kissing her shoulder 

     “No. Just been a while since we’ve all done it.” Y/n assured them

     Y/n took the day to herself. Staying bed with her husbands, the eight coming and going at random, and her two children when they pleased. more often wanting to play in the garden with their dads. 

     It wasn’t long till she found out she was pregnant again. the family and kingdom being excited once more. Her daughter and son arguing over whether it is a boy or a girl. 

     Like the last two pregnancies, her husband’s took on a lot of her responsibilities so she could rest. And when the baby wanted to come out, all eight were there for her while Hwan took care of the two children. 

     Nabi was pleased to know she finally had a sister. But no one was happier than Minho. All nine parents knew when they looked at their little girl's big round eyes that she was his. He about refused to let anyone else hold her until Nabi and Minseok asked if they could hold the baby. Minho couldn’t say no to his kids. 

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[kaylopolis]

Alastor's Shadow (18+) - Chapter Eleven

Alastor x F!Reader, Alias: Thestral

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months earlier than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. After all, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plan brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down but also challenge your grab for power… 

Tag List: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

(Let me know if you want to be added to the Tag List!)

____________________________________________

Author note: Dear Hoteliers, This chapter might be extremely triggering to some readers. I struggle with panic attacks and designed this chapter to emulate what I go through when I experience one. It also implies a history of abuse. If you wish to skip that particular section but still want to read, there will be a warning before and a note of where to pick up after.

Another short one before things get good!

<3 Stay smutty

Chapter Eleven - Lucifer's Visit

Content Warning: Minors DNI! Mentions of Substance Abuse, Mentions of Physical Abuse, Panic Attack

“Here, drink this,” Angel handed you a cup as you sat up in bed. “It’ll help.”

You brought the smokey liquid to your lips, it burned on the way down. He had given you a glass of straight whiskey. You welcomed the pain, it helped ground you. 

“What happened?” He wiped the hair sticking to your face. 

You sniffed, looking down at the glass. You had spent the entire night crying and when it was over you didn’t feel like talking much. So, Angel grabbed his laptop and the two of you watched a movie in bed.

Now it was morning - time to face the elephant in the room.

“You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.”

“Try me,” he sat back on the bed, leaning against one of the wooden pillars. 

You told him everything, and when you were done, all he could do was stare at you. 

“So, let me get this straight. You kissed Alastor?” His jaw dropped. “Yous was right. I don’t believe ya’."

“I just told you I was an Angel tasked with hunting down Eve on Earth for the past hundred years and that’s what you’re focusing on?” 

“Well, yeah? I don’t give a shit about that. Frankly, it explains a lot. But you’re in Hell, kid. There ain’t a pure soul down here. Fuck, Alastor murdered people for a livin’ and then ate ‘em. I really don’t think he’d care that ya’ were some big and important Angel who ditched Heaven for a vacation in Hell. Lucifer literally did the same fuckin’ thang.” 

“That’s not the part I’m worried about. The kind of power I have isn’t acquired by a soul deal. I don’t really have one like Human Sinners do.” You breathed. “The power I have you take through death.”

“Ooooooh, you’re worried he’s gonna try to kill ya’.” Angel finished for you. 

You told him about Carmilla and how Velvette was able to do that much damage to you. “If he knew how easy it would be to take what I have...”

You didn’t tell Angel about the tattoo, about what you took from Eve when you found her, because you did find her. That would be too much even for Angel to handle. Rosie went an entire week thinking you were yanking her chain before she finally realized you were serious. 

“Wait, why are you at the Hotel?” 

“I don’t even know anymore…” you covered your face in your hands. 

“Wow,” Angel gawked. “This is like a fucking Soap Opera.” 

“What have I done, Angel?” You sniffed. “I shoulda just gone back to the Seraphim and told her what happened. Then maybe I wouldn’t be in this mess.” 

“Or you’d be dead,” Angel pointed out. “From what it sounds like, Heaven isn’t all rainbows and sunshine. They’re fucked up too.” 

“Yeah…” you wiped your eyes. 

“You should tell him.”

“What!?” 

“I know how this is going to go. You’re gonna go down there and torture yourself the entire time Lucifer is visitin’. Ya’ gonna do everything you can to avoid him - barely even look at 'em. And for what? Because he may or may not reject you after knowing the truth? Ya' don’t know what he’s gonna do, dollface. Unless you tell him. He tries to kill you afterward, then ya' have your answer, but at least you aren’t torturin' yourself in fuckin’ limbo with the whole ‘will he, won’t he’ bullshit!” 

He’s right. 

“I’m right, and you know it.”

Fucker.

“When is Lucifer do?” 

Angel checked his phone. “Any minute.”

“Fuck,” you jumped up from your bed and ran for the door, completely ignoring the fact that you looked like a mess and wearing the same clothes as yesterday...

“Wait! You're doin’ this right now!?” Angel called after you. 

“You’re right! Besides, if Lucifer recognizes me, it’s game over. Better Alastor hear it from me beforehand.” You fly to the foyer - static licking down your spine - making it halfway down the stairs before Lucifer’s voice finds you. 

“Ahaha. Well, it's not very clever!

“Ha, ha! Fuck you.”

Oh, no! He was already here!

Charlie jumps in between the two of them. “Okay! Okay, anyway. Dad, look at this lovely parlor where people can get to know each other and share secrets and stories and intimate feelings! Without Alastor, we wouldn't have been able to pretty it up this much. See…” 

Charlie spins him about until they see you descending from the stairs. You give an awkward wave, your feet finding the wood floor. 

“Oh, oh! Dad!” Charlie shoves the King of Hell across the floor. He comes to a stop directly in front of you. “This is Thestral, one of our newest and most promising guests.”

Please, please work. You subconsciously rub the black ink on your left forearm, hidden beneath your red sweater. 

“Hello, sir, nice to meet you,” You hold out your hand. 

He gives you a confused look, his eyes scanning your form. “Do I know you?” 

You laugh awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck. “No. No. I don’t think so. I’m sure I would have remembered meeting the King of Hell, after all.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

“Right,” he finally shakes your hand. Alastor comes to stand directly next to Charlie, shooting a glance over her shoulder at the King of Hell. He narrows his eyes at him. 

Lucifer is exactly as you remembered him. God, what had it been? Ten thousand years? Who even keeps track of time anymore... Yet, Lucifer hadn't changed a bit. Falling from Heaven hadn't even left a mark...

Your heart panged in your chest.

“Ahem, Charlie! Dear, eheh, why don't you introduce me to your OTHER friends?” Lucifer awkwardly laughs. 

Charlie pulls him away to Vaggie next. 

He didn’t recognize you! Your heart sinks. He didn’t recognize you…

Alastor comes to stand next to you, his eyes following Lucifer around the room. The Radio Demon’s static prickles your skin. He’s irritated - at you or Lucifer or both. 

“I didn’t realize how much Charlie looks like him…” You mumble. “I mean, I knew, but didn’t really know…”

Alastor side-eyes you, his demeanor that of the infamous Radio Demon. You tried hard not to picture him as his brown-haired, tan-skinned self. You tried not to picture the look on his face the moment the mask slammed back into place. You tried and failed...

“Looks like you could use some help…” Lucifer starts. 

“Excuse me,” Alastor gives you a short bow before jumping into the fray. 

You watched the chaos from the sidelines, Angel joining you moments later. A small giggle escaped you when Alastor dropped the piano on Lucifer. 

His eyes found yours for a beat before he jumped into a piano duet with Lucifer’s violin. Your heart skipped a beat when your eyes met, his smile faltering but a moment, before his mask slipped back into place. 

God, why did your heart hurt so bad?

“You okay?” Angel put a hand on your shoulder. You could feel Husk shooting questioning glances at you from across the room as he helped Sir Pentious up from the floor. How long had he been passed out?

Fuck, you were probably going to have to catch Husk up after all this. 

“Yeah,” you mumbled. 

You debated turning around and marching yourself right back to your room. Maybe hide until Lucifer finally leaves, and then you could talk to Alastor? It was probably best. Your presence here would just make things worse - especially considering how pissed off Alastor already was. 

If you asked Angel to hide you away in his room for the rest of the day he’d do it in a heartbeat. You could build a cocoon on his bed and watch old movies together. Fat Nuggets could cuddle and fall asleep in your lap. Did you have any lemon tarts left, you think? Or had Angel snuck into your room and finished them off while you were gone? You hoped he had - or at least hoped Nifty threw them away (even if it meant her trespassing yet again). They were most likely bad by now. 

You turned, debating asking Angel, but he looked so intrigued with the King of Hell you thought better of it. Not every day Royalty stays at the Hotel. 

You were better off alone right now anyway. 

“Mimzy!” Alastor cheered, he opened his arms for a hug. 

Shit! You took a step behind Angel, praying the club owner hadn’t seen you. 

She chatted with Alastor and Charlie. While she was distracted, you inched your way to the stairs…

“You! Don’t you move!” She used her angry voice. Angel took a big side step out of the way, clearly afraid of the small demon. Traitor…

She grabbed you by the ear and pulled you down to her level. You winced against the pain in your torso. “Where the fuck have you been!?”

“Mimzy,” Alastor warned, his eyes narrowing at the tiny demon. “We talked about this.”

His static prickled your skin, his green aura beginning to fill the room.

“No!” She waved her finger at him. “I wanna hear it from the dame, well?” She turned to you, her eyes shooting daggers.

“Mimzy, I…” you started, but words weren’t coming to you. Everyone was looking at you. It was too much. 

“Well, hello there!” Lucifer took a step in front of Mimzy, cutting her off from Alastor. 

“Oh, my stars! Are you Lucifer?” She dropped her hold on your ear. “Pleased to meetcha, Your Highness.” She curtsied and then turned to the Radio Demon. “Alastor, you gotta warn a girl when she’s in mixed company.” 

“Charmed. I’m sure,” Lucifer gave a pained smile.

Alastor butts in, “As much as I'd love to catch up, Charlie and I have a tour to continue.” 

Lucifer grabs onto his daughter, “I'm sure Charlie can handle showing me around.

“Nonsense!” The Radio Demon grabs Charlie and drags her forward. “We started the hotel together, and we'll show it off together. Right, Charlie?”

“Oh, right!” 

This was so painful to watch. 

Alastor turns to Mimzy, “Why don't you let the others help you settle in, and I'll be back before you know it!” 

They disappeared down the hallway. 

Finally, you could breathe. 

The others gathered at the bar to hear Mimzy gab about Alastor, but you had had enough of the Radio Demon for one day. Everything was a mess, but it couldn’t be solved until after Lucifer left. Which would probably be a while. Instead, you turned and headed for the music room on the other side of the hotel. 

You needed something to do. Hiding in your room would probably just make you stir crazy - plus, all you would do was panic. You debated going for a flight around the City, but you didn’t know how your muscles would hold up in your torso during the flight. You were healing, slowly but still healing. If you ripped something, you’d have to run all the way across town to Rosie, and you were not about to go asking for a chastisement, that’s for sure.

So you turned and headed for the piano room. You grabbed a random piece of music - something you’d played a hundred times - and began to play softly. 

You played for what felt like hours, just letting your mind go numb, your thoughts only on the music. And then you felt eyes on you. Not the prickle of static, so it wasn’t Alastor or Rolf. You spun and met Lucifer’s gaze.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he waved anxiously. “I just… I snuck away and heard you playing and was curious.” 

“You snuck away?” You scrunched your nose. 

“Yeah, yeah…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “That Hotel Manager is…”

“A lot,” you finished for him. 

“I was going to say insane, but you put it much nicer,” he gripped his cane. 

He looked like he didn’t want to leave, but didn’t have a reason to stay. If anyone knew how much Alastor could be, it was you. 

“You play, correct?” You asked, waiving him over. 

“Yeah, how did you…”

“There’s this duet I’ve been wanting to try for so long,” you pulled a book of music out from the bench. “Do you mind?” 

His smile was one of joy and relief. “Not at all.”

You lined the music sheets on the piano, quickly pointing out the trickier parts. You focused on some of the harder parts, playing out a few measures, before finally turning to the beginning. 

“Ready?” You beamed.

He nodded and away you played. Franz Schubert’s Fantasia was a twenty minute song, but you only focused on the first movement, which was only four. It was an intense piece, with very strong emotion and parts which could get quite loud and others so quiet your fingers barely touched the keys at all. 

Hell, it was fun. You found yourselves laughing partway through it, especially when you got so into it you bumped heads together. 

When was the last time you and Lucifer did something like this? When was the last time you heard his laugh or saw him smile? Lucifer had been gone from Hell longer than you could remember him being a part of it.

The memories you two shared… You missed him.

You finished the movement and jumped when a crowd of clapping echoed behind you. The Hotel Natives were all standing in the doorway. Everyone was there - including Alastor, but he wasn’t clapping. 

“That was amazing!” Charlie jumped, bringing the two of you into a hug. 

Your face heated from the attention, but your eyes didn’t leave Alastor’s. 

He was livid. Or wait... You followed his line of sight, which you had assumed was on you, but you were wrong. It was on Lucifer.

"...jealousy is not an emotion I am accustomed to..."

God, he doesn't know...

Mimzy stomped up and grabbed you by the ear again, stopping your train of thought. “I expect you back at the club this weekend!” 

BOOM! The entirety of the Hotel shook.

“Que carajo!” Vaggie groans as the crew heads for the lobby. 

You hesitated, knowing Alastor was never one to run headfirst into a fight. The demon made eye contact with you, but it wasn't anger you necessarily saw. It was suspicion. You swore, however, as he melted into shadow, you smelled a hint of vinegar wafting off the demon - hurt.

Alastor was hurting...

____________________________________________

You hadn’t seen Alastor in days and as everyone waited to hear back from Lucifer, the Hotel returned to its usual order of operations. The only solace in knowing he was alive were the screams playing continuously on the radio. 

The demon was on a rampage.

You got up, made everyone coffee for breakfast, went through a new round of trust exercises put on by Charlie, played at the club in the late afternoon, and ended the day with a drink at the bar with the boys before finding the library with a good book.

You eventually had to fill in Husk. It wasn’t fair that Angel knew everything, but Husk only had half the story. For Husk, he had known you were in Hell a lot longer than 6 years, but he kept quiet. The bar cat knows how to keep his nose clean.

After you explained everything, he confessed to Angel that he knew you from long ago when he was an Overlord. You originally used Husk as an ally in the early stages before you "fell." He was a contact for you and Eve, someone to trust (to whatever degree that might have been) once your plans turned more south - to Hell. You were supposed to link up with him 6 years ago, but come to find out, he had fallen from power. You were pointed in Rosie's direction by someone you hesitate to call an ally - let's just say partner.

The Vees had gone quiet after the attack. You didn’t know if they were in mourning or if they were planning something big. Either way, the silence couldn’t be good. Perhaps Vox finally got the hint that you weren’t interested?

At about day five Rosie removed the stitches. You didn’t talk much at the visit even though she knew something was wrong. You just didn’t have the heart to hash it out all over again while she sat there and smiled and told you everything was going to be alright. You didn’t need the false hope. 

The truth was you felt hollow, like a shell of yourself. The boys did their best to cheer you up, but it was no substitute for what your heart needed. Night after night you couldn’t sleep, the silence of the hotel deafening. You couldn’t find a record table. You didn’t dare turn on the radio. No way were you going to buy anything else electronic or another phone - Vox didn’t need easy access to your life. So, the bags under your eyes deepened, your anxiety festered more and more, and your drinking became more frequent. 

Eventually, you gave up the wine and switched to whiskey - the burn giving you something to feel other than numb. 

God, how had you let him work his way so far into your soul (if Angels had a soul)? When had he become someone you relied on to live your everyday life? Why did it feel like a part of you had died when Alastor left? 

Day seven, Angel and Husk held an intervention. 

“Alright, kid,” Husk slammed the whiskey bottle down on the table in front of you. “This has to stop. I can’t keep watching you kill yourself over someone who doesn’t deserve it.” 

“Husk…” you started to protest when a portal opened up behind you. 

Lucifer stepped through, a worried look across his face.

“Hey…. Guys…” Oh, so cringey. “Is Charlie here?” 

The three of you pointed simultaneously. The King awkwardly shuffled into Charlie’s office. 

A few moments later, you heard a scream of glee and a flurry of thank-yous. It sounds like Charlie got her meeting. 

“He isn’t worth it, kid,” Husk continued. 

Irritation prickled the back of your neck. You did not want to hear this right now. You didn’t want to hear this ever. You’ve been avoiding any conversation about it all week with either Husk or Angel. They had tried, naturally, but you’ve managed to blow them off every time. Not anymore. This had to stop. 

“Husk, I am sick and tired of the two of you constantly lecturing me,” you pinched the bridge of your nose between forefinger and thumb, the flames beneath your skin threatening to break through. A spark of static danced its way down your spine. 

“We are just trying to look out for you…”

“Well, don’t!” You snapped, the flames surfacing. “I don’t need to be babied all the time. I’m a fucking Overlord for fuck’s sake. I don’t need to be looked after, let alone babysat by a has-been at rock bottom, who was dumb enough to gamble away all his power in a game of cards!” 

Husk blinked, not entirely listening to your rant, his eyes fixated on your arms. You followed his gaze downwards to the flames dancing across your skin. 

Green, your flames were green. 

“Is that…?” Angel started. 

“Alastor’s Hellfire.” 

You held your hand out and concentrated the flames in the palm of your hand, watching as the green danced amongst your fingers. It felt… warm. Not like the heat of fire, but warm like Alastor’s shadow. A small buzz of static creeped across your palm where the flames met your skin, the same way it dances down your spine whenever he enters a room, whenever you feel his presence nearing yours. 

What was happening? 

“How are you doing that?” Husk breathed. 

Your mind flashed back to New Orleans, to the kiss you shared on the dance floor, to the flames that practically burned the establishment to the ground. Then to Alastor's apartment when you combined your power to destroy the cellphone. In that moment you felt a bond connect between you and Alastor stronger than any soul contract you had ever made. Did that have something to do with what was happening with your magic now?

“I don’t know.” You extinguish the flame, your mind flitting through a million explanations. “Husk…” You were too afraid to ask the question. “Have you ever heard of Sinners being able to share their magic with another?”

The cat demon thought a moment before shaking his head. “I’ve seen a lot of things, kid, but that isn’t one of them.” 

You turned to Angel.

"Don't look at me, I ain't know shit about nothin'."

Out of curiosity, you held your hand out again, summoning flame - yet this time, it was blue. How strange… If you somehow had access to his power did that mean he had access to yours? Panic sparked within your core at the thought. 

Did he have access to the well of magic you stole from Eve?

“Thanks, Dad!” Charlie’s voice echoed throughout the foyer. The Princess led her girlfriend and Lucifer to the bar, practically bouncing on her toes as she informed you of the good news. “We have a meeting with Heaven!” 

You did your best to muster a smile, pushing down the wave of emotions washing over you. Trying not to make too much eye contact with Lucifer, you hugged the Princess, wishing her luck. Despite everything, your master plan was still moving forward. All that was left was for the Princess’ plans to be utterly rejected by the Holy Court, and then your direct manipulation could begin.

This was great! This was… great? If it was great, why did you still feel so low? Why did your heart still hurt? 

Charlie bounced back, twirling amongst the group as she screamed in glee before listing off a million things she was going to pack for the trip. “And you’re coming with me!” She scooped Vaggie into a hug. The ex-Exorcist did not look pleased. Perhaps the Princess didn’t know of her girlfriend’s origins, for she definitely would not have asked her to come along if she had. 

"Knock, knock!"

Holy fucking shit.

"Anybody home?" A familiar voice rang out.

The entire party turned to find Vox, striding through the doors, a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a cellphone in the other.

Holy shit this guy SERIOUSLY can’t take a hint.

Husk and Angel both moved in front of you, blocking Vox’s view.

“Vox, what are you doing here?” Vaggie pulled out her spear, closing the distance before Vox got too close. The ever protective girlfriend held the point to his throat, but the media demon was unphased.

“Ah, who are you again?” The media demon nonchalantly raised an eyebrow.

“Vaggie!” Charlie placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. He doesn’t mean any harm. He’s just here for an update on Thestral.”

“What!?” Angel and Husk both choked out at the same time.

“Yeah…” Charlie awkwardly smiled. “He’s been stopping by… Didn’t I tell you guys…?”

“I thinks I woulda remembered somethin’ like that, toots,” Angel spat.

“Oh…” Charlie cringed.

Yeah, “forgot.” Sure, Princess. Fuck, what has she been telling him? What does Vox know!?

“Oh!” Nifty appeared at the base of Vox’s boots. “A bad boy!”

The media demon took a step back, clearly uncomfortable with the small demon’s gaze. Vaggie picked her up and pulled her aside.

“Charlie, is this one of your friends?” Lucifer slides himself into the conversation.

Vox’s jaw drops. “Oh, my god! You’re him! You’re the Lucifer!”

“Well,” Lucifer brushed invisible dirt off his shoulder. “I don’t mean to brag but yes, it is I, you’re humble King.”

Vox sure knows how to captivate an audience and Lucifer was playing right into the palm of his hand.

“Vox of Voxtek Technologies, at your service sir,” the media demon shakes Lucifer’s hand. “I must say, you are even more handsome in person.”

“Ouch!” Electricity zaps the King’s arm, causing him to flinch away. “Ha, ha, you flatter me…”

“Not at all! I believe you’re in the running for one of Hell’s most eligible bachelors?” The media demon winked. “Check your phone.”

The King pulled out his cellphone - complete with a rubber duck charm - which Vox zapped, sending the screen straight to a news article. The King was so entranced with what was written that he forgot the situation completely.

Why did Vox and Lucifer have to get along!?

“What the fuck?” Angel pulled out his phone and started flipping through news sources to hunt down whatever the fuck Vox was talking about. “Oh, shit it’s all over Vitter!*”

Oh, Angel and gossip...

The spider demon tried to show you his phone but you shooed him away.

Priorities, Angel!

“Actually, Vox,” Charlie smiles, her hands behind her back. “You’ve come on a good day because Thestral is…”

“No way!” Husk closes the distance, leaving Angel still guarding your side. The cat demon crosses his arms over his chest, shooting Vox a death glare. “He needs to go, now.”

“Well hello there little pet, where’s your master?”

“Like Hell I would tell you anything!”

“So he’s still making chaos in the Doomsday District then?” Vox prods but Husk says nothing.

“Well then,” Vox readjusts his suit. “That answers that question. On to more pressing, business. Where is she?”

“You aren’t going anywhere near her,” he threatens. The bartender wasn’t backing down, if anything he sized the media demon up, as if weighing his options. Fuck, you didn’t know what Husk was still capable of but you didn’t want to find out.

“Oh, down kitty.” Little sparks of electricity shoot out of Vox’s antenna.

“Hey! Don’t call me a kitty, you fu-“

“Husk,” you interrupt him. Emerging from behind your protective wall of white and pink fluff, you coax the bartender away from Vox. “It’s okay. I can take it from here,” you squeeze the demon’s paw before turning to Vox.

Mustering your most sincere smile, you say to the demon, “Hey Vox.”

“Babe! You look great! These are for you!” He thrusts the flowers into your hands

Blue Forget-Me-Knots, how original.

“What are you doing here?” You tried not to sound annoyed, you really did, but acting was Angel’s strong suit not yours. Hell, you’ve become a fantastic liar but keeping your feelings contained was a whole other battle.

“To check-in. I haven’t been able to get ahold of you and you getting hurt was my fault so…”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“Your fault?”

“Yeah,” the demon’s gaze met the floor. “Charlie said you were on your way to V Tower to see me when the attack happened.”

You side glanced the Princess whose face was turning pink. What exactly had Husk and Angel told her happened?

“Anyway, I just…” The demon rubbed his neck and huffed. “Here!” Vox pulled out two things: a new phone and a watch.

Oh, here we go again.

“As an apology. Voxtek’s latest and greatest!” The demon posed with the electronics.

“Holy shit! Is that the new VWatch?” Angel asked. “That thang ain’t even out on the market yet!”

You shot him an exasperated look. Which team are you on, Angel?

Vox took your hand in his, fastening the watch around your wrist. “I’ve already connected it to your phone!” The demon turned both screens on. A notification flashed between the two of them to show you they had connected.

“Yay,” You feigned joy. Say whatever you have to say to get him out of here.

The second he leaves this is gone. No fucking way were you giving him the ability to track you so easily. The voice in the back of your head was screaming danger! danger! danger!

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you, babe,” The demon pinched your cheek, rather hard actually. “Oh, would you look at the time!” Vox checked his phone. “I’m afraid I have somewhere to be but,” He smiled at you, winking. “I’ll see you soon, babe.”

Hopefully not too soon… Actually, hopefully never.

“Okay.” Was all you could say. Go home. Go home. Go home!

“Text me!” He laughed as he headed for the doors. “Your majesty,” the demon bowed before disappearing.

That was weird. He wasn’t mad you went AWOL for two weeks? He didn’t even ask for an explanation!? Wait, did he think the two of you were dating!? No. No. No! Uh, no! You are not dating Vox! Hell - to the fuck - no!

What in the fuck did Charlie tell him!? Was ghosting this guy not enough to send a message? Did the Princess say something to get his hopes up? Did he assume everything was good between the two of you, that you wanted this!?

As soon as the door shut you turned to Charlie, who was now hiding behind Vaggie. Irritation bubbled beneath your skin as the Princess smiled sheepishly at you. The flowers catching fire made everyone jump back. You didn’t care anymore. Who the fuck cares anymore!?

“What did you do?”

____________________________________________

Vox dials his phone as he nonchalantly heads down the street.

“Is everything in place?” The media demon asks.

“Yes, boss. The bitch won’t know what hit her.” A male voice answers.

Vox chuckles, his one eye turning red, “Good. Good. Let the massacre begin.”

____________________________________________

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! 

Cellphones across the room chimed out in chorus, including your’s and your watch.

The spider demon looked at his phone, pure panic forming on his face.

“Angel, what’s wrong?” Your heart sank. 

“Oh, toots. You’re gonna wanna see this.” He turned the pink phone towards you to reveal an alert. 

Velvette posted a video on her Sinstagram and Vox sent a notification out for everyone to see it. 

Angel pressed play. 

Velvette’s cackle was iconic, as she picked up the phone. The front facing camera was on, so you couldn’t see her face, just the floor of V Tower now newly constructed. Her skipping stopped before the camera turned back around to her. 

“Hello, Pentagram City!” She sang. “It’s Velvette here coming to you from the top of the newly restored V Tower, and I have a little friend here who wants to say hello to everyone!” She turns the camera back around, and the sight nearly knocks you off your feet.

It was Alastor, bloodied and bruised, tied to a metal chair.

This was impossible. Alastor couldn’t be captured on any recording devices or cameras. Which meant Velvette and Vox had weakened him a great deal. Where the fuck was Rolf? Why hadn’t he come and found you!? 

“Say hello, Radio Demon.” Velvette cackled, but Alastor didn’t move. Alastor didn’t move!

Alastor was significantly more powerful than this. How in the Hell did they capture him!? 

The camera turned back around to Velvette. “Your boy toy is waiting for you, Shadow. Come and get 'em!” 

The video ended. 

And you screamed. 

Tears streamed down your face as you began to shake. Angel grabbed you, ensuring you wouldn’t fall to the floor.

“Holy shit,” Husk breathed. 

Rosie told you there were bystanders. She told you people saw. Alastor must have missed one or something or… or… Then that means… 

“She… she… she…” you couldn’t form words. “She figured out Alastor was the one who saved me after I killed Valentino.” Your voice broke as you collapsed into the spider demon in a heap of sobs. “I have to go.”

“No way, Hair clip.” Angel protested. “It’s clearly a trap.” 

“They’re going to kill him, Angel!” You practically screamed as your entire body shook, anxiety bubbled in your chest, your power surging as it fed off your anxious energy. 

“I know, toots. I know.” 

“She knows I’m an Angel.” You looked at the two of them, desperately scanning their faces for answers.

“It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.” You grabbed at your hair, the blue flames threatening to break through. “If I hadn’t killed Valentino, Alastor wouldn’t have needed to save me. But I had to because Valentino almost killed you because I killed Travis.” Green static ran across your arms. 

Angel jumped back, some of the electricity zapping him. 

“If I hadn’t become the Shadow, I wouldn’t have killed Travis, and the Vees wouldn’t have gone after Alastor.”

____________(Trigger warning)_______________

You fell to your knees the entire world spinning out of control. You felt it then, that well of power deep within you that you’ve been keeping contained for the past six years. It threatened to break through, begged to break through. You were hyperventilating now, desperately trying to push that well of power down as your panic only seemed to build. 

This was your fault. Alastor was going to die because of you. If you hadn’t been so distracted, you could have seen this coming. You did nothing about the Crim situation after learning about it and did nothing to stop Velvette from buying weapons from Carmilla Carmine. You didn’t monitor the Vees after you killed Valentino to see if they were planning any attacks of revenge. 

You did nothing! You are useless! You have always been useless! Why didn’t you try harder? Why didn’t you see these things coming? You’re worthless! A pathetic excuse for a soldier! You are a disappointment to your name! A disappointment to your father! All the years of effort, all the years of training for nothing!  

Why are you still even here!? Why are you still even trying!? You’re a failure. A miserable failure in everything that you do! And now someone you care about was going to die because of you. Because you are weak! 

“No, stop it!” You screamed, clamping your hands down over your eyes. 

Stop? Stop!? You wouldn’t have to stop anything if you had just listened! Tried harder! Actually succeeded! 

A tornado of blues and greens exploded from you, plunging your world into a sea of colors. The magic spun around you, whipping your hair about your face and blocking your view of the room. 

Alastor’s dead because of you. You can’t take that back. 

It’s your fault. 

It’s Your fAulT. 

It’S yOuR FaULt. 

IT’S YOUR FAULT. 

Somewhere, a high-pitched voice screamed. Or was it you screaming? It was hard to tell. The voices in your head had become too loud to hear anything else.

“I’m sorry!” You yelled back, tears streaming down your face. “I’m so sorry! Please make it stop!”

Stop? stoP? StOp? STop? STOP? 

“Please, Dad, stop!” You screamed. 

You could hear his laugh clear as day as the voices inside your head merged into one, “Stop?”

You curled into a ball, squeezing your eyes shut so you didn’t have to look at him. 

“You’re such a disappointment, do you know that?” His voice echoed around you, swirling with the winds and colors engulfing your small form.

“Dad, I’m sorry,” you sob. “Please!” A throb in your chest. That well of power was still there, still trying to take advantage and breakthrough. 

“You’re pathetic. Lying there, groveling like an insolent child. No one will ever love you, you know. No one will ever care.”

Throb, push, pull. The power was trying to undo the knots, trying to take advantage to slip out. 

“It was a mistake to create you.” 

“I was a mistake,” you repeated. 

“No!” A voice screamed, cutting through the wind and the voices. “You are not a mistake!” 

Charlie? 

“You are not a mistake, Thestral!” You opened your eyes to find Charlie fighting against the hurricane of colors. The Princess was pushing against the wind; her hair had escaped her braid. One hand held in front of her, the other reaching out for you, she slowly trudged her way forward. 

“You are wrong!” She screamed. “You are not a mistake, and you are loved! We love you, Thestral!” 

What?

“Me, Husk, Angel, Nifty, Pentious, even Vaggie. We love you!” The Princess fell to her knees before you. “We are your family now, Thestral, and we love you.” Her hands found yours. “And we will always be here for you, no matter what!” 

You sat up a bit to meet the Princess’ eyeline. She smiled softly at you despite the chaos around. “You are not a mistake. You are loved.” She leaned in, emphasizing every word. “It. Is. Not. Your. Fault.” 

IT’S YOUR FAULT. 

It’S yOuR FaULt. 

It’s Your fAulT. 

It’s your fault. 

It’s not your fault. 

“It’s not my fault,” you repeated. 

The winds began to die down around you, the colors fading away, the voices silencing. 

Until it was just you and Charlie lying on the Hotel floor. 

“It’s not your fault,” she repeated before bringing you into a hug. You hugged her back, her warmth, her touch, her weight, a calming presence around you. 

“Thank you,” you breathed into her hair.

____________________________________________

(Pick up here if you skipped the earlier section)

____________________________________________

“Uhhhh,” Angel peered his head up from behind the couch. “Can someone please explain to me how I’m not dead?” 

You continued to breathe as Charlie held you on the floor. She did her best to fix your hair as you spoke. “Oh, my God, I’m so…”

“Don’t,” Charlie stopped you. With a hand on either cheek, she forced you to look at her. “Don’t apologize.” You had never seen her so serious. “You’re scared. We all are.” 

You nod. 

“Is everyone okay?” She asked the room.

Everyone checked in. Including Lucifer. 

“Yup! All the magical colors just make me want to throw up a bit!” The King gagged. 

Ew.

“Okay, team. What’s the plan?” Charlie stood, radiating determination. 

“Uhm, pardon me?” Angel threw himself over the couch. 

“The plan to get Alastor back.” 

“What?” Vaggie grabbed Charlie by the jacket, making as if to shake some sense into her. “You are not going up against Vox and Velvette. No way!” 

“Vaggie,” the Princess protested. “Alastor is in trouble. We have to get him back.” 

We?

“Uhm, excuse me, ‘we’?” Lucifer blinked. 

“Yes,” Charlie stood tall. “We. None of us would be here if it weren’t for him. We wouldn’t have this Hotel without him. He’s defended it more times than you can count.” 

“I don’t owe the prick anything.” Lucifer stepped in. 

“Dad,” Charlie approached him warily. “Well… How do I put this lightly… After Mom left, you kind of did too.” 

“You completely abandoned her,” Vaggie muttered. 

Lucifer looked away, his arms crossed. 

“What Vaggie means to say is, Alastor was there for me when you weren’t. He’s helped take care of me - in a very demonic way - but he did what he did because he cares about me and this Hotel. If the situation was reversed and I asked him, he would help.” Charlie’s smile turned down to a fine line. “I’m asking, as your daughter. Please, help us.” She reached a hand out for him. 

Lucifer eventually melted, taking her hand in his. He nodded, before Charlie whipped back around to face you. “Okay! What do you need from us?” 

You dried your eyes. “Us?” You repeated, meeting the faces of everyone around you. 

They all looked… determined. Well, except for Nifty, she looked bloodthirsty and downright demonic. 

They were going to fight with you.

A feeling sparked in your chest, one which was new to you but second nature to Human Sinners: pride.

Mere months ago you came to this hotel with a plan to befriend the Princess and her crew. You needed to weasel your way into her world, earn their sympathy, gain their devotion. It was a ploy of manipulation. You weren’t here to make friends. You were here for power and chaos, nothing more.

That was the plan, right?

Yet, somewhere along the way, they found a way into your world, had earned your sympathy, gained your devotion. Rosie once told you that you never let anyone in and those that found a way past your wall terrified you. Here, now, surrounded by those you genuinely considered friends, you weren’t afraid…

You felt powerful.

You smiled softly, trying to corral the overwhelming swell of emotion within you. You summoned magic in your other hand, the green static jumping across your skin: Alastor’s magic. You could feel him, feel his breath, his heart beating at the other end of the connection as real and as strong as your own.

No more running.

You tried to push a little bit of your magic through the connection, as if to say “Hold on, Alastor. We’re coming.”

You turned to the group. “Before we get started, there are some things you need to know…”

Last short transition chapter before stuff get’s good!

*The competition for the most eligible bachelor in Hell actually happened on Twitter, but I'm pretty sure it was "hottest in Hell" or something like that. It involved legit bribery and scandals, but in the end, Vox won - because, of course, he did.

-> Chapter Twelve Coming Soon! (7/5)

Tag List (Let me know if you want to be added):

@sirens-and-moonflowers @wonderlandangelsposts @saccharine-nectarine @goyablogsstuff @mommymilkers0526 @eris-norwega

@missgirlsstuff @alastor-the-radio-demons-blog @sillwormtrixareforkids @its-a-dam-blue-brick @cloverresin20

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@demoarah @diffidentphantom @divineknightmare

[painter-of-the-stars]

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 , 𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 . . .

Bleeeeep! The Payphone is ringing ! Requested: can i req a leo valdez x daughter of poseidon reader? <333 ( @bows-and-olivia-rodrigo, Thank you for coming by!)

Or I’ll never give my heart ,And the moment I can feel that.. A Leo Valdez Oneshot!

Leo Valdez is in love. That's all he knows, and all he wants to know. He's always so hyper aware of his feelings around you. Oh, why should such an enchanting girl even exist? One packed with surprises, who loved the ocean, the beach, and most of all, who loved him back.

"Hey! Leo, stop-that-that tickles!" You giggle, trying your best to back away from his hands, which were easily tickling you by making slow circles over your knee. Briefly, you remember it was you who had invited him to try, with a bold statement of: "Pfft. I don't get tickled, love. Such things don't bother me, really."

Oh, how wrong you were. It initiated an attack from the curly-haired boy, his trademark impish grin plastered on his face. "Really, mamacita? Well, I'd like to see."

So here you were, ruining the sheets of your freshly made bed, trying to crawl away. His laughter and yours echo together in your cabin -- both sounds of pure happiness.

His hair falls in messy curls over his eyes, as he tries to catch you again, pulling you gently by the ankle, his nose scrunching up in the way it did when he laughed. Neither of you paid attention to the noise you were making, because who really cared? You were in love, and you were 16 and you were allowed to be crazy. "Thought you said you'd handle it, amor! Or have you gone soft?" he teases, gasping exaggeratedly when you throw a pillow at him. You grin, just as teasing, trying to comb through the mess of your hair. You've ended up beside each other, his hands locked in yours. "Maybe I exaggerated a bit. But for all that trouble, you know what I deserve?" "Hmmm..another tickle attack?" "Absolutely not. I'd like a kiss as a reward, if you didn't mind." "You could ask me for the moon and the stars for all i care. I'll give you anything you want." So, he moves closer, his hand placed gently under your jaw, grin still crooked as ever, face slightly red from all the laughing. You move in, to kiss, and finally the person at the door makes a sound. "You guys do know the door is pretty much unlocked, yeah? Kids these days. So cheesy." Percy Jackson grins, already ready to go spill the beans to the rest. Well, now you were totally screwed.

a/n: first oneshot! It's not great, but I do hope you like it! Feel free to req again, thank you!

Bleeeeep! Insert a coin into the slot to make another wish! Later, reader!

[thenotsofantasticlifestory]

“Try it now”

You turned the handle of the faucet waiting for the flow of water to run through, but nothing did.

“It’s still not working,” you said.

Kid muttered a curse beside you. The captain was currently down on his hands and knees, head buried under the sink trying, unsuccessfully, to fix the lack of running water in the kitchen.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” You peered down at his back and stifled a grin at the thunk of Kid knocking his head against the cabinet as he crawled out to glare at you.

“Of course I do,” he snapped back. Truth be told, plumbing wasn’t Kid’s specialty but he had a basic enough understanding, and really, how hard could it be compared to the machinery he’s made before?

“I just need another minute,” he said as he crawled back under the sink.

You gave a skeptical hum, “Alright, but if we can’t get this working Killer’s gonna be mad, you know how particular he is about his kitchen.”

“Killer,” Kid grunted as he gave a sharp turn of the wrench to one of the pipes, “will have to deal with it until I figure this out.”

You rolled your eyes when Kid suddenly gave you a sharp kick with his boot.

“Hey! What was that for?!”

“I can practically hear you roll your eyes,” Kid’s voice came from beneath the cabinet, and you had to marvel how he could read you even without seeing you. Crossing your arms you huffed as sounds of clinking and metal echoed from below. After several minutes Kid withdrew himself, hand on the counter as he pulled himself up to sit on his knees.

“Alright try it now.”

You gave a him skeptical look before reaching forward and turning the handle again. To your surprise water began flowing freely and you gasped in excitement.

“See?” Kid planted a hand on his hip, chest puffing, “I told you I had it handled.”

You grinned in response, eyes still on the running water as your hand trailed down to brush through Kid’s hair, “Good boy.”

Kid chokes on his response, a sudden heat crawling across his face at the words and suddenly he’s very aware of his position on his knees looking up at you. You don’t react, rather you didn’t even seem to realize what you’d just said, until Kid’s uncharacteristic silence caught your attention and you looked down at him. Kid was flushed, staring up at you with mixed emotions playing out across his face seemingly frozen in the spot and in that moment, you realized what crossed your lips.

“I mean good job!” you yanked your hand back from his head as if it’d been burned, fighting a flush across your own face while Kid hastily stumbled up muttering a curse as he trips over his own feet.

“I-I said good job!” you reiterated as Kid finally rights himself. His eyes darted around the kitchen, seeming to settle anywhere but you and his face is still beet red but he gives an awkward cough and a nod before agreeing.

“Right, well-just tell Killer his damn sink is fixed,” and with that he turned and marched out of the room awkwardly. Kid practically flees to the safety of his own quarters and when he shuts the door all he can hear is the way you called him a good boy and how annoyed he is when he realized he was getting hard off it. But perhaps what annoyed him even more was how much he wanted to hear you call him that again.

[poledancingdinos]

BFF Sy

Pairing: Young!Syverson & OFC (Gen fic)

Word Count: 1670 words

Taglist: @amberangel112 @utterlyhopeful-fics @marantha​ @kebabgirl67 @littleone65 @omgkatinka @luclittlepond @elizabetharegina @enchantedbytomandhenry @narnianaos @geralts-yenn @peaches1958 @avengersfan25 @sillyrabbit81 @lena-banena @mrsevans90 @confessionbrain-writings @eclecticfashionbookszipper @rosecentury @shellyshellshell

A/N: I haven't been able to write anything for a while so instead of making actual progress on a WIP, I spent way too many hours formatting this for AO3 to justify having only written dialogue. So if you want to get the full experience, I recommend checking it out here. Made a creator skin and everything.

Masterlist

You 12:47 A.M. : Desi’s new friends are EXACTLY like Chris’ friends used to be, it’s almost disturbing

Sy 12:53 A.M. : Ain’t that a good thing? I thought ya missed the metalheads after the breakup.

You 12:54 A.M. : I did. It’s just so out of character for Desi, you know? Her new BF is so different from others before

Sy 12:55 A.M. : But yeah, when me and L left your place I joked that it felt like Desi was sitting between you and your boyfriend rather than her sitting next to her own BF. So weird to see her with an emo kid instead of a suit.

You 12:56 A.M. : I’m headed home

You 12:57 A.M. : It’s about an hour

Sy 12:57 A.M. : RIP

Sy 12:58 A.M. : Didja take your sleep aids so you can just go to bed when you get home?

You 12:58 A.M. : Not yet

You 12:58 A.M. : Don’t want to risk having a dizzy spell on my solo walk home

Sy 12:59 A.M. : Fair.

You 12:59 A.M. : I’m pretty far from home so I’m being a little more safety minded

Sy 1:00 A.M. : Good. We just finished up a bit of cardio so now I’m wide awake and L is passed out 🤣

You 1:00 A.M. : Funny, it’s usually the other way around

Sy 1:01 A.M. : It’s the clean up afterwards that always wakes me up.

Sy 1:02 A.M. : I can doom scroll a bit and keep ya company if ya want.

You 1:03 A.M. : I wouldn’t mind a witness to my survival

You 1:04 A.M. : Right now I’m sitting in the first subway car behind the driver but as I walk I may call you

Sy 1:05 A.M. : Sure thing.

You 1:06 A.M. : Anyway, the guys were nice but loud as fuck

You 1:06 A.M. : Very into screaming along with the music

Sy 1:07 A.M. : Oh boy. How was Desi handling it?

You 1:07 A.M. : Well actually

You 1:08 A.M. : Even when her BF’s band showed up and things got extra loud

Sy 1:09 A.M. : You know, I was a little bummed I missed the night out with you guys when ya texted me earlier.

Sy 1:09 A.M. : Doesn’t sound like something I would have enjoyed after all lol

You 1:10 A.M. : Not at all. You like good music but not at that volume

You 1:12 A.M. : I wasn’t supposed to go but Leon said I was welcome as he left and Desi confessed that she had never met most of the people that were there and that she would appreciate a familiar face so I went with her after supper

Sy 1:13 A.M. : That’s nice

You 1:14 A.M. : But it was loud enough that my throat is a little raw now. I was honestly concerned that someone would call the cops

Sy 1:16 A.M. : Maybe with enough alcohol I would have been able to have fun lol

You 1:16 A.M. : I was the only sober person. The others had either had copious amounts of alcohol or copious amounts of weed

Sy 1:17 A.M. : It’s better you be sober for the return trip anyway.

You 1:18 A.M. : Leon and his back up vocalist were singing Bohemian Rhapsody at one point and Leon was chugging beer to rehydrate between the different parts 🤣

Sy 1:19 A.M. : Isn’t that how the professionals do it? 😅

You 1:20 A.M. : Only the ones in need of weekly meetings in church basements

Sy 1:21 A.M. : To be fair, the fact that he was able to both remember and sing the lyrics while drunk and high is impressive.

You 1:22 A.M. : Gotta give credit where credit is due, I guess 🤷‍♀️

You 1:23 A.M. : Getting off at the next stop

Sy 1:24 A.M. : Alright.

Sy 1:24 A.M. : Then you catch a bus?

You 1:25 A.M. : No, it’s a 15 minute walk

You 1:26 A.M. : Out of the station and walking

Sy 1:27 A.M. : Call whenever.

I wait until I’m across the street from the station to lift my phone to my ear. It only rings once before the call connects and I hear Sy’s deep voice.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

I hop down from the sidewalk onto the street to pass a man walking ahead of me. Why do people insist on moving at a crawl dead center in the middle of the sidewalk I will never understand.

“Didja have fun tonight?”

“Surprisingly, yes but not as much as you, I bet.”

Sy chuckles on the other end of the line. “Matter of perspective.”

“How was your family dinner?”

“Painful. Except for the dog. It was nice to have her around again.”

Sy’s apartment doesn’t allow pets other than for short visits so he wasn’t able to get his own dog after leaving his mother’s. Frankly, the dog is probably the main reason he didn’t move out sooner. He held out way longer than I would have. He’s also a good southern boy and doesn’t ever talk back, unlike me. I’ve got a mouth on me and I ain’t afraid to use it to tell people where they can shove it.

“What about you? Anything interestin’ happen after I left?”

“Not really, we mostly got caught up on our girl talk. Leon left around five to get to his mother’s day dinner. Desi and I left my place around eight. We ate at the little burger place on the corner then got to Leon’s a little before ten.”

I walk past the restaurant in question as I speak.

“Did it start rainin’ out?”

“More like lightly drizzling.”

“Are you still only wearin’ your shorts and crop top?”

I know he’s mostly asking out of worry that I’m going to get cold but I have no doubt there’s also a little part of him that’s worried my outfit from earlier would attract unwanted attention.

“I changed into jeans before leaving since I knew the walk home would be chilly and I put my giant hoodie on for the trip home.”

It’s a triple XL zip front I got from my old job. I found a bunch of old seasonal shirts when cleaning out the store room and my boss had let me take my pick of the leftovers before donating the rest. There had been one hoodie at the very bottom that had likely remained unclaimed because of the size. You could fit three of me in it at the same time but it’s comfortable and right now, it’s a small protection against potential unwanted attention.

“I’ve only seen, like, three people on the street and the road is well lit but, you know…”

“Better safe than sorry. I don’t mind darlin’.”

I can tell he’s getting tired since it’s about three hours past his normal bedtime. I’ve never been particularly worried about walking home alone at night. Hell, I’ve wandered around strange cities in the middle of the night to sober up in the hopes of avoiding a nasty hangover. Just the other day the girls I work with were saying how they don’t like taking the subway at night because they had too many bad experiences with being catcalled or with other passengers making them uncomfortable.

Me? Well, I’ve never been catcalled and men don’t normally look twice at me. I guess my above average height and my resting bitch face have made me overly confident. Or I’m just proof that women don’t come out of the womb feeling the need to clutch their keys in their fist at night unless men have done something to make them feel unsafe.

“At least I remembered to charge my phone before leaving.”

“Thank fuck for that.”

I wasn’t expecting Sy to actually be awake when I texted so the phone battery was more to make sure I knew when the last subway was and to call a cab in case I missed it.

“So are you camping out on the couch while we talk?”

L is surprisingly cool with our friendship but I’m pretty sure being woken up by your boyfriend talking on the phone with another woman in the middle of the night is a no-go for even the most laidback of girlfriends.

“Yeah. I got up for some water so I figured I’d just stay out here and avoid wakin’ L.”

“How dirty did you get her that the clean up pulled you out of the post nut drowsiness? You start dabbling in watersports or something?”

“Fuck off, there were no water sports involved.” Sy releases an audible yawn. “I didn’t think I’d miss condoms but they sure as hell made cleanup faster. By the time we both finish up in the bathroom I’m always wide awake.”

I hum in understanding. L is Sy’s first long-term girlfriend and they just recently dropped the latex after L got on birth control. “Do you have to get up to do that?”

“What, ya want us to just roll over and go to sleep? I already sweat my balls off at night, I don’t need to add wet spots into the mix.”

“You could keep baby wipes by the bed for late night cardio sessions. Avoid having to get up and go to the bathroom. Or bring a wet rag in with you beforehand.”

“That’s… not a bad idea actually.”

I pull my bag off my shoulder as I wait for the light to change. Might as well dig my keys out since I’m almost home. “Yeah, I’m full of good sex advice.” 

“I knew I kept ya around for a reason.”

I smile to myself. We both know that we wouldn’t have made it to ten years of friendship if all I had to offer was sex advice.

“I’m about to turn onto my street. I feel like the walk was shorter than usual.”

“Well, you’re breathin’ kinda heavy. You must’ve been walkin’ faster.”

He’s not wrong. I must be really out of shape if I can’t walk and talk without getting winded. Holding my phone between my cheek and my shoulder, I put my key in the lock and pull the door open.

I don’t remember what time it is until the door slams shut behind me. Oops.

“I’m safely behind a locked door. You are relieved from your babysitting duties.”

I linger in the entrance for a few seconds since the call would probably cut off if I stepped into the elevator.

“I’m up for babysittin’ whenever ya need it. Glad you’re home safe. G’night.”

“Good night.”

[f1orza]

Austrian GP thoughts, sorry if I'm not very articulate 🤓 just rambled really not proofread cause I'm busy

Do I think the collison was Max's fault? Yes. Do I think that the contact was inevitable and BOTH of their faults? Also yes.

Max shouldn't have moved during the breaking but they were both driving aggressive. They both wanted to be first, they both know what's it's like to be first and they won't settle for second now. I think in Lando's case he seen that if he wants to be first he has to try harder? Or that you actually have to be "agressive" to get onto that top step.

Do I think Lando was being childish? Yes. And I'm saying this as a McLaren fan.

Though I also think that any sport where you're fighting for first is inherently a bit childish. Might just be because I have siblings and we always used to fight over first place as kids 🤷🏽‍♀️idk

That doesn't justify Lando's response. Even when you're upset and running on adrenaline, you should be able to be handle your emotions I think. (I know as humans it can be hard) but if you're on live tv being broadcasted to millions of people...you should have a better handle on you're emotions; even if you feel you've been wronged, because no one will listen to you if you are acting like that. If you're levelheaded about it people are more likely to listen,(woman experience this all the time.) He needs to work on that and on taking responsibility as well, because the blame isn't 100% on Max.

That's one thing I can say about Max, I wasn't here for the "Mad Max" era but from videos and word of mouth, I can tell he's matured a lot and you can definitely see it. Max had every reason to be upset after this race (but not really), he had a good lead against Lando until RB's slow pit stop and then he went from first to fifth and some might say that's not bad, he still got points, and etc. That's not the point - his race was still affected but he did not go on live tv and speak badly on his friend.

They need to - like Max said - cool down and speak about it afterwards. I personally don't think it is worth ending a friendship with someone I considered a good friend but maybe they see it differently idk. It's something they need to talk about before the next race. And if they believe that it was worth losing a friend over, especially when they know this is situations that happen in racing then....

And I've seen a lot of people mentioning Lando still wouldn't have been first, even with the 5 sec penalty, he would'v been second with George being over 10 secs behind, I can understand why he believed Max ruined his race.

Now I've also seen people talking about Lando's attitude, I agree on some things and disagree on others. And this isn't me being a "Lando crazy fangirl" trying to justify his actions but I'm just telling it how I see it. So if you disagree okay, but do not start shit with me okay? 🙃 cause I know y'all like to fight around here 🤥

I think Lando feels stuck in that wasted potential. Where people having saying for years you have the potential to be a champion and even with all the hardwork you do, it doesn't feel like it's being shown. And especially as someone who went so long without a first win. You feel like you're letting people down: you're team, family, fans and yourself. Not to mention all the hate you've been getting for NOT winning, then you'll definitely be in a bad headspace. And now that's he's won and KNOWS he can win, he'll want it all the more. He has the fastest car on the grid right now, he IS a good driver (contrary to what some of you believe), and he is a bit more optimistic than last year. Now that first is within his grasp, he's been hungry to get a second one. And I think he's been a bit overconfident about it, but that's honestly all drivers, I think if you are upset about Lando's ego but not other like Ocon than you dislike Lando for other reasons and are just finding excuses now. Even more so knowing he is second in the championship standings. Now that you know you're capable of being first you wouldn't want to settle for second, just like Max. Max constantly talks about not being there for second place but many of the other drivers feel that way, Lando is clearly one of them.

Do I think Max should have just let him go by? no. Because this IS racing and if you want to be first and become a champion you have to work for it. Max has never been the kind of guy to just let you pass him, not even for a friend. So Lando needs to understand that if he wants to keep fighting Max in the future. If you want to prove everyone right or wrong, only YOU can do that and by being overly eager and dangerous, well it clearly doesn't work in your favor 😭 (sorry lando 🤧). Only thing is you do is improve yourself and I'm not surprised that Max is a champion when he is always driving be it racing or sim. If your competitor's are doing a 100% you need to be doing 200%, that's the only way to get to the top.

[cheezeybread]

I feel no matter the character development, Kalim is still gonna struggle with doing what needs to be done to protect his family from everybody who wants him dead. I headcanon that his obliviousness is his coping mechanism for all of this and that he is in fact just as observant as Jamil, but that won't really be enough for this sunshine to face the evils of the Scalding Sands. So could I request Kalim with a lover who is just an absolute badass. As in before coming to twst they were the child of a diplomat/politician, so they're already very aware of how messy things can get and have no qualms about hurting the people who hurt them first. With Kalim and other loved ones they'll be cheerful and playful, but with enemies they go full maverick.

Specifically I'd like a oneshot of Kalim taking his lover to visit his family and papa Asim is asking them what they could provide for the family (since unfortunately they can't just let anyone marry into the Asims cause they're so rich and so powerful). All the s/o asks for is one month. They spend their vacation chilling with Kalim, bonding with his siblings, and chatting up fellow nobles.

Cut to one month later and the reader dumps this mile long report of every single person that wants them dead, all the evidence compiled against them, and plans for how they could be "handled" lethally or non-lethally. What was that they did in that one month? Create the Asim equivalent of the FBI and get dirt on just about everybody. They grew up in a modern day equivalent of the Imperial Chinese Court (meaning plots, scandals, endless assassinations, and just sooooo much drama), the Scalding Sands is like child's play for them.

I'm all for Kalim being more self-aware than people give him credit for! I mean, come on, he may be a silly little guy, but I believe 100% that he's choosing to be that way on purpose as a coping mechanism! I do the same thing, honestly.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰ ───

The head of the Asim household could be very imposing whenever he wished to be.

It threw you off guard, at first.

Kalim had been telling you about how great his father and mother was ever since he first proposed the idea of you coming with him over the break, saying how fun it would be, and how much his parents were looking forward to meeting you. He had hyped up the trip so much, emphasizing how nice and kind his family was. As soon as you walked through the door, you saw firsthand how right he was.

His mother embraced you with open arms, quite literally, wrapping you in a bone-crushing hug that would make Floyd jealous. His father slapped you on the back with the same bright, sunny smile that Kalim had- the same smile that first made you fall in love with his son. And the kids, by the Seven, the kids! The older ones were friendly and kind, but stepped away after initial greetings. But the younger ones were hyper and jumpy, all hopping in your arms and fighting for your attention. Even the youngest of them all, a small toddler who could just barely walk, managed to waddle up to you and tug on your pants until you picked him up.

Kalim was very pleased by all this, to say the least.

But then Kalim's father asked to speak to you in private, assuring your boyfriend that it was only to get more acquainted with you. So you had no unease about following the large man into a well-decorated room. As soon as the door was closed, the bright smile adorning his face vanished, replaced instead by the hardened, weathered look of a man who has seen horrors beyond comprehension. Or, at least, that's the vibe he gave off.

"I'm going to give it to you straight, Y/N," He said softly, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you with a calculating stare "In this family, there are...a great many dangers. I can't count the times my life has been in danger, and anybody who enters our family needs to be able to not only protect themselves and their spouse, but any potential children. I've had to kill men with my bare hands in these very halls...men who wanted to hurt my wife, my children."

He put a calloused hand on your shoulder, and you felt your stomach drop with a sudden well of nerves "I need my son to be protected, and I know that he can protect you, but I need to know that you have a...special skill set, let's say, to keep him alive and well."

At the end of the month, he said after a long spiel of the family's history, he expected to be shown what you could provide to the family and their wellbeing. If you did so, he promised, he would accept yours and Kalim's relationship with not only his blessing, but with the pride and acceptance of the entire family. Although, of course, you shouldn't speak of this conversation with Kalim, lest he attempt to help you in this endeavor.

After speaking with you, the bright and cheery look returned, and the two of you walked out of the room.

After the two weeks of break were over, you and Kalim (unfortunately) had to go back to the NRC campus, but you continued on in your personal endeavor. Two weeks after that, you nagged Crowley to give you permission to go back to the Land of Scalding Sands.

You stepped through the mirror with a sense of purpose, a thick folder stuffed with paper held protectively under your arm. To the house of Asim you went, requesting an audience with the head of the house to the guards standing outside. It took a while for one of the guards to go inside and fetch Mister Asim, all while the remaining guard kept his gaze fixated on you. Like you were here to hurt the family or something.

"Ah, so you've returned!" Greeted Kalim's father, ushering you to join him on the other side of the gates. At his approval, the guard opened the entrance, and you stepped inside gratefully.

"So," he began, placing a hand on your back as he began a slow walk around the estate, you assumed for privacy reasons "Tell me what you've brought."

"Let me first begin, sir, by telling you something that Kalim apparently forgot to mention that my family understands the plights that your faces. My father was a politician in his prime, and although he is retired at this point, his opinion still holds a great influence on those in higher positions of authority," You flicked a finger over the folder under your arm "As such, those who'd like to be rid of his influence, or simply disagree with the values he upheld while in office and the policies he enacted have had a great effect on the lives of me and my family. Homicide attempts were not uncommon growing up, although we didn't have the pleasure of being able to afford such high security," you chuckled, sticking a thumb back towards where the guards at the entrance were. You glanced over at Kalim's father, hoping to gauge some level of his emotions. But his face was unreadable.

"As such, I've gained some valuable skills to keep myself alive, and ones that may come in handy for yourself, as well, sir," You held up the folder, allowing him to take it.

As he flicked through the pages in the folder, his eyes narrowed, and his mouth opened slightly "What..is this?" he asked, although he feared that he already knew.

"I was in this land for two weeks, sir," You said, your voice gaining more confidence by the minute "During that time, I went out to eavesdrop and peruse through the marketplace. You know how much gossip is spread there-? Anyway, I learned of some names of those tossed around, claiming threats that didn't sound like they should be taken idly. Those who had plans set and in effect to take the lives of the Asim family."

"But these aren't just their names-" He started.

"I had two more weeks, if you recall," you interrupted, giving him a satisfied smile "Two weeks to find suitable...eh, let's say... punishments, for those listed. Ways to easily dispose of them without causing panic to the public nor cause any undue distress on their own families. As well as methods of getting them to talk and divulge information on any more conspiracies against you."

The head of the Asim household took a few more minutes to look through the papers before he began laughing, a deep, hearty sound. He looked up at you with a genuine smile, nodding his head gratefully.

"Welcome to the family, Y/N."

[decks-writing-blog]

There's Nothing Wrong With You

Summary: Everyone's assuming Alyx and Gordon are a couple. They're wrong and it's starting to annoy Alyx.

[A/N] Originally I had the idea of writing a fic exploring why Eli assumes Alyx and Gordon are romantically inclined towards each other and how he wants to support Alyx in that as well as why he wants to specifically encourage it. And then it was gonna end with her coming in with a 'hey, this ain't it, please stop' and then it becomes a coming out story (it is pride month after all) in which she's supported. But I couldn't find a good opening so I decided to write it from Alyx's POV instead and just have it be the 'this ain't it' and coming out part but accidentally discovery wrote my way into this instead. Some of my salt about how little attention Alyx gets from the fandom and how the vast majority of the attention she does get is when she's being shipped with Gordon inevitably came into play. I suppose it was only a matter of time before it did because it bothers me kinda a lot. Please Half-Life fandom, pay more attention to Alyx; she's literally the main character of the story and she's cool, stop sleeping on her so much. I have to make literally everything I want to see fic-wise in this fandom (I already read almost if not all of what little was here already) myself.

~

Gordon was a good man. Alyx liked him. Of course she did, there was no possible way for her to not like him. They’d gone to hell and back together and then he’d gone to hell and back to bring her home. She’d never been closer to anyone she didn’t consider family.

Everyone assumed things about him and her based off how obvious all of that was. At first it hadn’t been a big deal. It had just been teasing and Dad’s occasional mention of wanting grand kids one day. But the further away they got from the Combine being kicked off Earth and Alyx’s return to it, the more people just assumed things. It wasn’t a question to be teased about anymore but seemingly an accepted fact by many both among the former Resistance people as well as the regular citizens.

Which was annoying but not that big a deal right up until their rebuilding efforts had gotten far enough along that it was decided a book needed to be published detailing the Combine’s expulsion from Earth. As an important part of it, Alyx was interviewed. The interviewer had focused a bit too much on her relationship with Gordon even straight up asking, “When seeing him for the first time was it love at first sight or did it take a bit longer?”

Even now, hours later, Alyx still stewed in annoyance – thinking about it so much wasn’t helping of course but she couldn’t help it. She’d handled herself well… mostly. Her frustration had shown through a bit more than she’d intended but she hadn’t embarrassed herself. But it still irked her. There was people making incorrect assumptions about her love life and then there was the way they associated her with Gordon; that her role in everything only mattered in that she was Gordon’s girlfriend. The interviewer hadn’t cared about the things she’d done or her other relationships; she was Gordon’s smart talented girlfriend and that’s what defined her as a person.

She had to talk to Gordon about it. Immediately hadn’t been an option. Gordon’s interview for the book was going much longer than hers had. Which made sense, he’d done more and wasn’t talkative so getting him to share a lot about anything took some time. And someone might have to be interpreting his signing. Or maybe they just had him writing stuff down. Regardless of the reason she sat on a nearby chair and waited until finally the door opened.

The interviewer came out first followed by Gordon and then Barney. Likely then Barney had been acting as sign language interpreter as he’d unofficially taken on that role. As soon as Gordon’s eyes caught on her, he abandoned that ending conversation and walked over.

She stood. “We need to talk.”

He nodded. Either an agreement that they had something to talk about or just an ‘okay’.

“Is now a good time?” The thought of putting it off any longer itched but he’d just got out of a long interview. Pressing him immediately into another conversation was a tall ask.

Another nod before he turned and waved Barney over. What he signed to him, Alyx didn’t catch from this angle.

“Uh… all right then. Catch up with you two later then.” With a hand wave, Barney turned and headed off.

Gordon turned back to face her. “The yard?”

“Yeah, sure. Let’s go.”

Luckily it was at that perfect time of evening when the base was still mostly empty and the few people who were around were busy with work around here or getting ready to go to wherever they called home. Meaning they didn’t encounter many people on their way through the halls, minimizing the amount of people who interrupted them to talk to Gordon. Sometimes when she was alone they wanted to talk to her – often about Gordon – but always when with him, they just wanted to talk to him. Other than that, the two of them didn’t say as they made their way along.

The yard was Dog’s new area, including his rebuilt house where he could plug-in to recharge. It was smaller than his old area back before City 17 blew up. But being so busy helping with various construction projects, he wasn’t in it as often so it wasn’t a big deal. Unfortunately he was off on one such outing right now, leaving the place feeling rather barren. Long gone were the days he’d just sat around guarding and playing with Alyx. He gotten smarter, resulting in him growing antsy if forced to sit around in one place for too long and he was too great a help to not be put to work moving heavy things. Everyone had to do their part rebuilding society after all. But still it’d be nice to be able to spend more time with him.

That complaint was small next to her main one though as she followed Gordon over the little table and chairs set in the corner. He in particular often came out here to be alone especially during mealtimes. She joined him fairly frequently so this was familiar.

Once seated across from each other they sat in silence for a little while. Her not knowing how to begin and him patiently waiting for her to figure it out. … It would make sense for them to be dating, wouldn’t it? She had every reason in the world to want to kiss him. But did she want to? She’d never considered such a thought before. Seen other people do it plenty of times but never thought of it as something she might one day do.

It’d be wet, wouldn’t it? Wet specifically with saliva. And his breath would probably be hot and who knows if it’d even smell good. Apparently sometimes tongue touching was involved somehow too. … Ew. Gross.

And then there were the other things couples often did. What would his hands feel like caressing her bare body and breasts? Dad wanted grand kids too so… The book Isaac had given her detailing sex and everything around it, including pregnancy had been thorough but also deeply clinical. Making it easy to not think about it as something that might happen to her. But when applied to real life, pregnancy sounded like something straight out of a horror novel. The thought of something growing inside her, feeding off her body, distorting and twisting it was nauseating. And not just because that’s similar to what the headcrabs did to their victims, realizing that comparison only made the idea more horrific. Why would anyone want that?

Also the act of getting pregnant, she didn’t remember what the book said well enough to recall all of what it had detailed about the physical act of sex and how it was done. The general thought of a penis going inside her made her tense up and pulled her legs tighter together. How could such a thing possibly be desirable?

Okay so, she didn’t want Gordon to touch her like that, not even a kiss. She certainly had no desire to carry his child, Dad would just have to live with no grand kids . But that wasn’t all there was to romance though, right? Dad and Isaac were dating and a lot of the time that manifested as looks, subtle touches, and the ways they talked to each other, especially when alone – it was hard not to accidentally overhear their flirting sometimes. Did she want any of that with Gordon?

What would ‘any of that’ even entail for them exactly? What made romantic love, romantic love? Books painted it as something different and the way people talked about their partners was often different than the ways they talked about their friends and family. Supposedly romance was this big grand thing but… why? What even was it? It was different from platonic or familiallove but in what way? One was supposed to just know, right? Why did it feel like such a foreign concept to her? Was there was something wrong with her for not loving Gordon the way everyone, including her own father, thought she did?

Gordon tapped the table between them, drawing her gaze back up onto him. “Are you okay?”

Damn, she’d been siting here long enough that it had grown awkward. “I uh… I don’t love you. Or no! I do, of course I love you, you’re my best friend. But… I don’t love you in the way everyone thinks I do. Sorry.” Her intention had been to express her annoyance with everyone’s assumptions about them and talk to him about correcting that misinformation but instead she was apologizing because what if everyone was right and she should feel that way? What if Gordon felt that way and she’d just broken his heart? “I don’t know if you uh… feel that way about me or whatever but… I just don’t. Sorry.”

His expression didn’t change, it rarely did. “I don’t feel that way about you and am relieved you reciprocate that.”

Alyx let out the breath she’d been holding before lifting her hands to respond in sign. Such wasn’t necessary but it always felt more polite and because of how often she did so, she’d gotten pretty good at conversing in sign language. “Really?”

He nodded. “I was starting to worry I would have to turn you down. It’s always an awkward conversation.”

“Is it a conversation you’ve had a lot?”

He shrugged. “A few times.”

“Do you not feel that way about anyone or… have you just not found the right person yet?” Was Alyx alone in not feeling such things? Or was something wrong with her? Maybe she was a lesbian. The thought of a woman kissing or touching her sexually felt just as gross though.

“No one. There is no right person. Even before… everything, I never wanted romance or sex. I want it even less now.”

“Is it normal to not want that ever? Is it normal to be… grossed out by the thought of it? It’s just… it never came up before. Stuff was always happening with the Combine and I never thought twice about dating or whatever. But now everyone assumes we’re together and for a moment I thought that… maybe we should be since that seems to be what’s expected. But then when I really thought about it, it felt gross. And I realized I don’t even really know what romance is supposed to feel like or whatever. Is that weird?” Was Alyx weird for feeling that way?

Gordon paused for a moment, his hands hovering in the air for a couple seconds before responding. “It’s uncommon but it’s normal. You’re not broken. There’s nothing wrong with you.” It’s almost like he’d read her mind, dispelling that worry before it could even properly take root. If he felt that way too then it had to be just the way some people were, right?

“Thanks.”

He nodded. “Do you want to do more to correct people?”

“That’s uh… actually the thing I wanted to talk to you about, mainly. It’s gone a bit beyond being kind of annoying.” They should’ve done something to correct that notion before now.

“Okay. Also, you and the rest of the Resistance don’t get as much credit as you deserve. I fixed that in my interview earlier… or tried to.”

“That too. Dad’s the leader and like… barely anyone ever wants to give him credit for stuff.” He’d done a lot, including gathering up the Resistance and laying the bedrock that allowed all the big stuff she and Gordon had accomplished to occur. The only stuff Gordon had done entirely on his own was dealing with the Resonance Cascade. “This books stuff should be a good time finally get everything straight, huh?”

“Yes. I love you too by the way, as a friend.”

[oatlystrawberryicecream]

the thing is willis todd would’ve killed anyone who fucked with his son, joker or not he would end you or die trying

[dutybcrne]

Kaeya once jokingly referred to Bennett as 'Bennett Guildson' in lightly scolding him over endangering himself, and Bennett most Definitely considered making that his actual name on his official Adventurer's Guild paperwork, send post-

[nightswatchdisbandmentera]

Might be a hot take but a major character’s death is really only as good as the weight and the treatment that the narrative gives it. Sure, any author has the ability to write death as they see fit. But whether the consumer (of any given form of media) is actually able to emotionally connect and resonate with the departure of someone who has occupied a good chunk of narrative space very heavily depends on how it’s treated within the story. If it’s a major character, the narrative needs enough built-in breathing space. As in, the consumer doesn’t have to fill in the blanks as to how the death impacted the plot or the remaining characters. Let the narrative do that for them, and that would actually allow the consumer to better react and relate to that major death (sadness, anger, joy, etc). Allow the rest of the characters (who were impacted by the deceased) to react to their parting. Let them engage with the death in a manner that helps justify the character’s inclusion in the narrative to begin with. Make it clear how the character’s life and (especially) their death relate to the larger themes of the story. Because most consumers aren’t stupid. We don’t want our hands held at every waking moment, but we also don’t want our investment in a story to be insulted just for the sake of a cheap shock. Give us time to breathe and grieve. And respect that we have put in a lot of emotional investment in a story and its characters, and we deserve to have that acknowledged.

[mid-nightowl]

So, the Batman in Suicide Squad: Kill the Justice League may or may not have killed Robin

[flairza]

at this point qphil will be my oc now.

ermm he actually lives somewhere remote in teufort with his children and and his husband goes on too many business trips to count but he sends them all money so its fineeeeee

[reiderwriter]

Little Angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid × virgin!fem reader

Genre: SMUT, some fluff, a little tiny smidge of angst. MINORS DNI 18+

Summary: As the youngest and most innocent member of the BAU, they all take care of their little angel. When they find out just how innocent you are, though, one member takes his possession to the next level. You're his little angel, and he's determined to have you.

Warnings: loss of virginity, loss of innocence, degradation, pet names, oral sex, thigh riding, fingering, cum marking, love bites, Spencer is territorial and possessive, Dom! Spencer Reid, PinV sex, mentions breeding, but he pulls out.

A/N: We've reached Day 8 of kinktober! It's our second "long" fic, meaning there's a bit more plot to this, and the smut scene is longer too (WC is almost 7k!) I hope you love this one just as much as I did... The kinktober masterlist can be found here, and my regular masterlist is here too! If you want something specific, my requests are open ❤️

Your first three months with the BAU were a blur, and for good reason. Endless cases, back-to-back, interrupted only by the slight hint of a weekend or the ever possible death row interview. You were tired, stressed, and afraid to walk home alone at night, and absolutely satisfied. As far as you were concerned, it was all worth it to get these monsters off the streets, to help save their victims and to find out what made them tick. There was nothing else you'd rather be doing. 

The team had helped you settle in well, too. You'd joined the team after Alex Blake had left - she'd recommended you actually from the college seminars you'd taken with her. You were obviously lacking a bit of experience, so they took on two team members, and you and Kate Callahan had the great opportunity of both being the newbie. But you had a slight disadvantage of age, coming in as the youngest member of the team. You thought that might be why you'd settled in so well, in all honesty. 

Hotch and Rossi were both protective in a fatherly way. Hotch pushed you and Rossi encouraged you and that was everything you needed from them. A strong pat on the back at the end of a case and a "you did good, kid," and whatever hell they'd pushed you through, it was worth it. Morgan's tough love was brotherly, but he did a great job at getting you to relax on and off the case, reminding you to not take the work home. JJ and Kate were great mentors. It wasn't easy being women in the FBI, let alone the unit that specifically looked into some of the most misogynistic killings, rapes and abductions in the world. They both gave you tips about how to handle condescending officers, and JJ had held your hair back after you'd puked your guts up on a particularly harrowing day in the field. With Penelope, friendship was easy, and you loved talking to her about whatever hyperfixation you were on that week, loving that there was someone on your team that had filled their life with genuine joy in the face of so much horror. 

And Spencer. Honestly, you were beginning to think that you'd used Spencer as a human stuffed toy a bit too much. 

You don't know how it happened at first, just that after one of your first few cases, you'd been so elated to find a victim alive, safe but traumatised, that you'd thrown yourself into his arms the minute you got back to the precinct. 

"We did it, I thought she was going to be dead, Spencer but she isn't." Your head was pressed into his chest, you were almost surprised he even heard them, muffled as they were. If you weren't so elated, you'd have noticed the way he'd stiffened at your touch, panicking slightly before awkwardly wrapping his arms around you, too. But you pulled away before you could notice that he wasn't really used to any physical comfort, bouncing off to write up your case report. 

Spencer noticed, though. Noticed how the heat of your body made him feel comforted, the way his heart rate increased to 125 BPM from it's base rate and didn't fall back to normal for another half hour. He noticed that you smelt like jasmine and patchouli, and more importantly, he noticed that he didn't really care if you touched him, and that was new. 

It became a kind of ritual for you, finding him after a case and folding into his arms to celebrate. They were friendly hugs, after all, a sign that you'd been through hell together, and you'd made it through like avenging angels. They only lingered longer when the cases went badly. You turned to crying in his arms after you'd discovered the body of a dead street girl, Veronica, in pieces in the house of an unsub who'd committed suicide by cop moments earlier. 

"I told her she'd be safe if she talked to us, Reid. I told her we'd protect her, that I'd protect her." You were so hurt by that failure that he'd had to drive you home that night, holding your hand the entire way so you didn't feel so alone, left to fester in your guilt. 

The rest of the team had begun teasing you about the hugs, but you'd brushed them off. You hugged everyone else too, and you knew for a fact that Penelope hugged every member of the team, so there was nothing special going on between you and Spencer. No one had deigned to inform you of Spencer's germophobia and aversion to touch. 

"Gonna tell me what that's all about?" Morgan asked Spencer as you bounced away from a hug one day, leaving to remove your FBI vest. 

"What what's all about?" He replied coldly, turning away to remove his own vest, replacing it with his blazer. 

"What, you don't have a statistic for how many germs are passed between people during a hug, Kid, come on, you were practically smelling her hair." The older man's eyebrows raised in a question again, but Spencer continued to blow him off. 

"I hug people all the time, it's not a big deal." He shrugged. 

"It took you four years to return one of Penelope's hugs, and you still only do that on special occasions. That's not all the time." 

"Derek, just drop it. There's nothing going on, she just… She just does it sometimes." 

It was when you'd hugged him in the middle of the office, without a case to use as an excuse, that you noticed an underlying tension in the office. You were all celebrating, of course, Callahan had just announced her pregnancy, and you were all so happy for her. You'd heard the happy news and instantly turned and thrown yourself into Spencer's arms. Even you weren't sure why, not even questioning it until you saw the awkward glances on the other profilers' faces. You brushed it off by rushing to give each of them hugs, and running out in a mad flush, needing air, or water or something to get you out of what was looking more and more like an interrogation room. 

A few cases later, the entire team headed to O'Keefe's to celebrate. 

"To another case successfully solved," Morgan toasted, and you all joined him, lifting your glasses in triumph. 

"To the wonders of non-alcoholic beer," chimed in Kate, leaving you all laughing together. The booth was small, and as usual, you'd found yourself sat right in the arms of Spencer Reid. You hadn't intended it, honestly, having slightly avoided him recently, but you'd followed Penelope into her side of the circular table, and Reid had followed you. You were sat squished between them, your arms resting awkwardly on your lap between drinks. 

"Okay, a night of drinking is slightly boring without some games to spice things up, what do you say, hot chocolate?" Penelope said, addressing Morgan who was on her other side. 

"I'm all ears, baby girl. What were you thinking?" 

"How about twenty questions? We already know a lot about each other, let's see what we don't know?" Kate suggested, thriving off of the knowledge that as the sole sober member present, she'd hold all the cards tomorrow. 

"What, how is asking questions a game?" Reid questioned jokingly from beside you. "That's just an interrogation or a therapy session, there's no winner or loser."  

Already slightly buzzing from your drink, you turned to him and out your fingers in his lips, shushing him. 

"No time for logic in matters of the bottle, Spencer. Let's play." He pulled your fingers off him, but nodded, holding them in his grip still as you turned back to the table. 

"I'll start! JJ, are you and Will thinking of having more baby LaMontagne's?" Penelope jumped at the chance to probe her teammate, and you laughed at her enthusiasm. 

"There have been discussions, but I'll not confirm or deny yet." JJ said, taking a sip of her drink as she slyly avoided a direct answer. 

"I always forget why you were so good with the press, Miss No Answers. Okay, your turn to ask a question." 

"Okay, Morgan. Are you thinking of popping the question to Savannah anytime soon?" 

"Did she send you?" He laughed and took a drink. "If I do, she'll be the first to know." 

The game went back and forth like this for a few rounds before Penelope turned the spotlight back to you. 

"Okay, Y/N. You were a college student recently, I know you've got some wild stories. Where's the craziest place you've ever done it?" You knew Penelope didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. She was just an open person. 

But you shifted in your seat nonetheless, trying to figure out if you could answer or even if you would. Your tongue was a bit looser than you expected though, because before you could even finish thinking you just blurted it out. 

"Nowhere." 

The others blinked at you slightly before Penelope dived in with another question. 

"Is that Nowhere, Oaklahoma, or you're just not having sex in crazy places?" 

"No. I'm not… I'm not having sex. Period. Never have." You felt yourself shrink as the other members of the team awkwardly apologised for probing you so much. Really it wasn't that big of a deal, and it wasn't as if you were saving it for religious or moral reasons. But you'd not been the most popular teenager, and you'd started studying serial killers and sociopaths so early that you really hadn't wanted to get so intimate with someone else like that. 

Unbeknownst to you, Spencer's grip on his own drink had tightened ever so slightly, his heart race had picked up again, and suddenly the hand that was holding yours suddenly let you go, quietly dropping your fingers like they were glowing cinders, and he was dripping in gasoline, waiting to ignite. 

Lust. He felt sick with himself for the images that were suddenly flashing through his mind now that he knew you'd never been held in that way, trying not to fantasise about you underneath him, holding him, begging him, feeling all of him. He took another swig of his drink and politely excused himself to get another as he let himself catch some air, as the sudden realization that he wanted you - and had wanted you for quite some time now - finally hit him.

The next couple of weeks were normal, and you were thankful to have that discussion behind you. No one treated you differently, acted like you were more of a child than before, asked you how your dating life was or set you up on blind dates, which was really refreshing actually. You'd let some friends know previously, and that's all they'd done, surprised that you could live ignorant to wonders of sex without shrivelling up and dying. 

The only thing that was different was Spencer. And that wasn't really difference so much as growing more comfortable with each other. He'd rest his hand on the small of your back now in support sometimes, or have a hand slung over the back of your chair when sitting together. He was constantly at your side, especially if you were around male suspects or officers who'd taken a bit of a ballsy approach. 

You liked it, probably a bit too much. You gravitated towards him in a room filled with people, and found yourself hugging him more often, when you left a room, when you entered one, when he looked like he needed it. Which, recently, was all the time. A month went by with this increased comfort level, and soon you found yourself feeling wrong if his hands weren't on you. 

He stood close to you all the time, and you noticed the stares you were getting from everyone else. A few officers who'd approach you would apologise to him when they noticed him at your back, hand on your hip as he pulled you away. 

After one case, you could even swear that you felt more than him than you were expecting. He'd moved away slightly in between one of your hugs, but you'd pulled his arms back around you and stepped closer, pressing your back against his chest, letting your head rest on his arms. Something hard and long wedged up against your ass, and in a split second he was pulling away before you could ask him about it. He excused himself, and you felt your body burn up. It was Spencer, it was just Spencer and that wasn't because of you, it was some other reason. 

Spencer didn't know what he was doing. He grew more possessive over you by the day, and he'd honestly nearly bitten the head off an officer who asked him for your number. 

"Sorry, she doesn't have a phone." 

"But I saw her with one earlier. Look I get it she's FBI, and you guys are-" 

"Okay, so she's not interested."

"Hey, why don't you let her decide that wise guy?" 

"Oh sure, get angry I'm sure she'd love that. She's not interested, she has me." He couldn't help himself from getting in the officers face at that, and Morgan had to pull him back from the edge. 

"Wow, wow, hey, calm down." The officer stormed out, and he felt triumphant for only a second before Morgan rounded on him. 

"Whatever this thing you've got going on, Spencer, you need to get it out of your system as soon as possible." His voice was low and stern, throwing a glance over his shoulder to where you were sitting, staring confusedly through the glass at Spencer, whose eyes refused to move from your own. 

" I just wanted him to back off, she doesn't like him like that."

"No, you wanted him to back off because you've marked her like some animal marking its territory. She's not your prey, Spencer, she's our team member, now you're gonna have to get your act together and leave her alone, because we've got work to do." 

Sighing and throwing his hands through his hair again, he finally looked away from you and gathered his breath. He wanted to stop this too, this horrible perverted feeling of needing his hands on you, wanting to possess you day and night. To protect you. He just wasn't sure if he was strong enough to do that. 

The next time you all went to O'Keefe's he certainly tried. You expected him to follow you into the booth again - he didn't, sitting opposite you next to JJ. You expected him to talk to you or look at you for more than a second at a time - he didn't, avoiding most conversations entirely and keeping his eyes fixed on the bar. You certainly expected him to still be sat at the table when you returned from the bathroom, ready to slip into the seat beside him, force him to talk to you. Instead he was gone, and you scanned the rest of the bar trying to locate him. 

Something green and vile jumped you when you finally locked onto him, stood at the bar, surrounded by other women. Surrounded was maybe an exaggeration, as there were really only two of them, but they were practically draping themselves over him, and for some reason that set something alight inside of you. 

You watched them for a moment, how one of them trailed a hand up his arm as he shuddered away from their touch, the other pressing herself against the bar so her chest pushed up dramatically. The green bile in your throat carried your feet forwards, and before you knew it, you were clearing it from your throat to grab their attentions. 

"Spencer, there you are!" You brightened your tone specifically, as you locked eyes with his panicked ones. The two girls looked you up and down as you moved closer, brushing past them to climb up right into his lap on the barstool, pulling his arm around you as you pressed your ass into his crotch. 

"Are you going to introduce me to your new friends?" The smile didn't reach your eyes as you let your back rest against his chest comfortably, watching the women to see their reactions. The one touching him pulled her arm back instantly, and the other readjusted her dress before they both left silently, carrying their glasses back to wherever they came from. 

You watched them leave a little triumphantly before the green faded, and you realised what you had done. 

"Y/N…?" His voice was hesitant in your ear, and you shivered slightly before pushing off of him. 

"I'm so sorry, Spence, it just- it… looked like you were hard." You panicked again, pushing closer to him. "No, like you were in a hard situation, not that you were," your hand accidentally dropped to his crotch as you spoke your final words: "Hard."

He twitched beneath you as you finally looked down to where your hand was, as his mouth opened to say something. 

"Y/N…" was all you heard before you turned around, and fast walked to the entrance, picking your bag up quickly on the way, and then sprinted the second the cold air hit your face. 

You cursed yourself inwardly as you ran the three blocks more to your apartment, thankful that you were at least in walking (or apparently running) distance. What the hell had you been thinking? Practically sexually harassing one of your coworkers like that, grabbing his dick, albeit accidentally. 

You slammed your door shut behind you, leaning against it and sliding to the floor as you finally accepted that whatever this was with Reid, it wasn't friendship for you anymore. And you weren't sure if it had ever been. 

With your head between your legs, arms wrapped tightly around yourself, you started replaying each moment with him, each touch from the very first. How even the memory of a brush past you could excite a fire in your heart, a heat between your legs growing by the second. 

You wanted to crawl pathetically into bed and not think about him until the next morning at work,  but fate, or Doctor Spencer Reid, had other plans. 

The knock at your door was sudden and incessant, the banging starting loud, and staying consistent until you tentatively pulled it open. 

He was stood there, chest heaving, looking down at you, sweat coating his forehead. 

"Can I… Come in?" He asked, and you nodded, too stunned at his sudden appearance to tell if this was real or just your fantasy becoming a little too realistic. 

He thanked you for letting him inside, and you showed him inside, guiding him to he couch, where you took a seat opposite him. 

"I wanted to make sure you were okay, you left in a rush and…" He trailed off, eyes flicking down to your lips. His Adam's apple bobbed with his swallow, and you watched it yourself, trying to avoid meeting his eyes, as if you were a schoolgirl about to get in trouble with a disappointed teacher. 

"I'm okay." 

"Okay, that's great, that's… Great." His breaths caught up to him, and he took another deep breath and a swallow before continuing. "How about we continue that game from last time. Twenty questions?" 

You'd do anything to stop him walking out of that door, but you felt too shy to touch him again, even in the friendly ways you were used to, so you eagerly accepted. 

"Yes, that… That sounds fun, thank you." 

"Okay. Question one. Do you know why I'm here?" He asks as he shifts closer to you, still not touching, but at a proximity where it would be natural to accidentally brush against one another. 

"N-No. But I might have an idea." He nodded at your response before moving on to his next question. 

"Question two. Are you a virgin?" He didn't trip or stumble over the words, pushing them out slowly and delicately so as not to offend. 

"Yes." The lump in your throat was thick, almost as if he'd put something there that you couldn't help but choke on. 

"Question three. Do you want to remain a virgin?" 

You shook your head no, following it with your voice seconds later as he stood up from his seat, putting some distance between you. 

"Question four. Do you feel intoxicated or drunk right now?" He held himself still as you sat on the very edge of your chair, desperate to feel his hands on you now. 

"No, I only had one sip at the bar before…" He held up a hand to silence you, and you did. 

Question five. Answer me honestly. Do you like it when I touch you?" 

"Yes." Your breath was a whisper, but it was breathy, sounding almost pornographic in your neediness. 

"Question six. Do you like it when other people touch you?" 

"Do you?" His head snapped back to yours, and you froze under his gaze. "Not as much." You answered and relaxed again, pouting slightly at his lack of answer. 

"Question seven. Do you like me touching other people?" He took a step closer to you again with this question, but you continued pouting as you shook your head. 

"No. I don't." His lips quirked upwards before he could stop them, but he gathered himself together again. 

"Question eight. Do you want me to leave?" You met his eyes at that question, taking one good, hard, long look at him. You noted the tensed jaw, the clenched fists, his stiff body language, trailing your eyes over him before looking him directly in the eyes. 

"No." You let the word hang on your tongue, pulling it out a bit longer than was necessary as you watched him take in a shaky breath. 

"Question nine. Do you want me to come over there and kiss you?" 

"God, yes." He was on you in seconds, restraints gone, throwing himself back at you as his lips collided with your own. Virgin you may be, but you'd kissed men before, and it had been nothing like this. 

His hands trailed up to your hair, tipping your head back slightly so he could gain better access. He bit your lip and thrust his tongue into your mouth when you gasped, so eager to consume every part of you whole. 

You'd never felt like this before. 

He pulled away, and you tried desperately to chase his lips, even as your lungs begged you to stop. 

"Last question," he whispered in the space between you, holding the sides of your face at a distance so neither of you could be tempted to dive in for a second kiss, or a third, or fourth. "Do you want me to fuck you?" You whimpered at his words, nodding furiously as you tried to lunge at him again, but he held you firm. 

"I need you to say your answer, baby. I need to hear your consent, okay?" You nod again and open your mouth, eyes never leaving his lips as you moan out a definitive "yes."

Instead of letting your lips fall against his again, he lunges for you, grabbing your legs and hauling you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style all the way back to your bedroom. 

"Gonna do it right," he mutters to himself as he throws you down on the bed, pulling back to take off his jacket and unbutton the cuffs on his shirt, rolling the sleeves up meticulously. 

"I'm going to take care of you, Y/N, okay?" You nod at him and flush, suddenly feeling the strength of his need for you as he holds himself back. He puts his hands on you again, gently coaxing your legs apart, pushing your skirt up over your hips. Reflexively, you move your hands over yourself, covering your sensitive places with your hands. 

"Don't cover yourself." His voice is strong, deep, as he orders you, and you let your arms drop back to your side. He traces his hands up and down your legs, almost as if he were memorising every inch of your skin, how you felt under his hands. 

His hands make their way up to your panties, and you watch with baited breath as he moves you, pulling your hips up so he can let them fall down. The lace material tickles you as he pushes them past your thighs, over your knees and finally off your legs entirely, balling them up and putting them in his pocket. 

"I'm going to touch you now, okay?" He asks it like a question, but he doesn't wait for your answer, unable to hold himself back before diving straight between your legs, so desperate to taste you that he's deaf to everything else. 

His tongue connects with your sensitive area first, tracing up and down at a steady pace as his legs half-heartedly push your legs open. It's almost as if he's enjoying the pressure of your legs wrapped around him, suffocating between your thighs as he feels your pleasure build, and build. 

Eventually he pushes your hips further apart, letting himself push his face into even more of you, his tongue entering your hole as he begins fucking it in and out of you, fingers coming back up to your clit to keep up the pressure there. 

"Spencer, please, please, fuck." 

"I love it when you beg for me like a needy little slut," he whispers, holding your legs apart as he looked up at you, face slick with your arousal. Your mouth drops wide at his words, and he immediately begins to retract them. 

"I'm sorry, Y/N, if that was too far, I just got caught up -" 

"I liked it." You said, quieting him as you spread your legs a bit further apart, begging for him to continue. He smiled and dived right back in, bringing his other hand up under your dress, all the way to your chest as you kept your legs open yourself. 

He sucked your clit into his mouth, lapping up all the juices you were releasing as you moaned underneath him, bucking into his face at the memory of his degradation. 

You were a needy little slut, and you needed him to make you cum. He was more than happy to oblige. 

He kept you there for what felt like forever, drinking you in for as long as he could. You orgasmed twice before he finished, completely overstimulated by the way he was desperately fucking you with his mouth. 

He was obsessed with you, with your scent, your taste, with being the first ever person to ever touch you like this, to fuck you, to make you feel so good. Without him even realising, you're pushed to the brink for a second time, shuddering under the heat of his mouth as he drinks you in. 

He finally pulls his head up again, coming up for air as you're twitching under him. 

"Perfect, baby, so perfect for me." His lips fall down to your own, and suddenly you're tasting yourself on his tongue. It's hypnotising, and despite the pleasure you've just received, you need more, desperate to feel him on you again. 

When he pulls his mouth away, he replaces himself with his fingers, pushing them into your mouth. 

"Suck," he says and you listen, as he watches the way you lick yourself off of him. 

He unzips your dress with his free hand, carefully pulling your arms out of the sleeves and pushing your dress off your body. You trace your tongue around every ridge of his fingers, leaving no inch undiscovered. He moved you to pull the dress of, and you graciously followed, letting him do whatever he wanted to you. 

"Nice little slut, tasting herself on my fingers?" He whispered when you were finally bare, pulling his fingers from your mouth, letting the trail of spit hang between you as you moaned. 

He removed himself from over you, and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. 

"Come here. Come and sit on my lap." 

You cautiously followed his directions. You'd thought that he'd fuck you then, after spending so long getting you ready, but apart from his tie, which he was in the middle of discarding as you crawled over to him, he hadn't derobed any further. 

"That's it baby, come and sit yourself down right here." He pat his thigh and you crawled over, lowering yourself down onto his clothed leg. 

"What now, Spencer?" You stuttered the words out, heart beating as you awaited his instructions. 

"Now, I want you to rock your hips back and forth. Just like this." He grabbed your hips and started moving you against his leg, pushing you down to grind into him. 

"Spencer, wait, I don't know-" 

"I do. I know you can do it, so please try. For me." You pulled you in for a kiss, and then removed his hands from you, leaving you to rock against his thigh. 

You were unsure of the movements at first, moving slowly as you dragged your aching cunt up and down the top of his pants, watching as you saw the wet patch you were making. You moaned with each movement, growing faster and more confident as you continued. 

"That's it baby, use me to get yourself off, okay? Let me see you." He whispered in your ears, pushing your sweat-slicked hair ou of your face, holding it up for you. 

"Spencer please," you don't even know what you're asking for as you beg him, feeling that familiar bubble in your stomach grow. 

"No, you can do it. You look so beautiful like this, Y/N, so desperate for my cock, huh?" You start trying to unbutton his shirt, desperate to see more of him, to feel more of his bare skin on your own. But he stops your hands and holds them against his chest. 

"You need to ask nicely first, before trying to undress me like a needy little whore." The words should sound violent, should humiliate you, but his voice is so soft you simply move faster, moaning and desperate to cum one more time. 

"Fuck, Spencer, I'm gonna… I'm gonna…" 

"No, you're not." Before you finish, he pulls you off his leg, hauling your body back onto the bed, and laying you back down on your back. You moan in disapproval, so frustrated with the lack of release that you feel tears prick the corners of your eyes. 

"Don't cry, baby. I'll give you what you want soon." He practically rips his clothes off, pulling his vest over his head, stumbling over each button and removing his belt and pants before climbing over to you. His cock finally free you take your first glance at it. 

You'd never entirely been sure how it was that the male appendage fit inside something as small as your pussy, and you were doubly unsure about how Spencer's was ever going to fit inside you. You stared at it wide eyed, as you took in the length, the girth, and the heat of it as he stroked it in one hands, pushing on top of you. 

He let go of it as soon as he was between your legs, letting it fall onto your stomach as he crawled between your legs. He trailed a finger over your lower abdomen just around where his cock was twitching against you as his other hand came up to stroke your hair. 

"You look worried, Y/N, what's wrong?" 

"Will it, um, will it fit?" You asked, knowing how cliché you sounded. 

"We've spent the last thirty-seven minutes loosening you up with foreplay. It should fit, but I can't promise it won't hurt."

"Right, if my hymen is still intact you have to…" 

"That's right. And then it's going to reach all the way in you to here," with each word, he stepped his fingers up from your clit to where the tip of his dick sat on your stomach, letting you come to terms with exactly how full you were about to be. 

"I'm going to fill you, and you're going to be mine, and I'm going to be yours. My sweet angel." He stroked your face, catching his thumb on your lips on the way down, tempted to thrust it into your mouth again, to see just how much of a whore you could be, given the chance. 

Instead, he lined himself up with your dripping core, and, making sure one last time that this is what you wanted, slowly pushed in. 

It was uncomfortable at first, having something so wholly alien inside of you, you weren't sure how to react. You wrapped your arms around him, digging your nails in, deep, as he pushed in further. 

"Y/N, I need to move more now, and it's going to hurt a little, you just have to trust me, okay?" He kissed the top of your head, but you were so lost in the sensations to answer. With one swift jerk of his hips, he pushed through your hymen, and fully sheathed himself inside of you. He pressed small kisses everywhere on your face, while whispering to you how beautiful you were. 

"You're doing so good for me angel, I'm going to take care of you. Going to make you feel so much better than this. You're so beautiful." His lips were distractingly sweet, as were his words, and soon you found yourself relaxing into him, the sharp pain of earlier fading to an electric buzz inside of you. 

You jerked your hips up to meet his, and with that, he knew you were ready. From his words, you'd assumed that he'd move slowly in you. But with one final lingering kiss to your lips, he lifted his chest up, pinned your legs tightly down, and started thrusting hard and fast. 

"Sorry, just couldn't help myself baby. Needed to see you looking ruined underneath me." Moans spilled out of your mouth with his every movement, and the orgasm you'd built up earlier hit you like a ton of bricks, blackness hazing over your eyes as they rolled back in your head. 

"Fuck, fuck, Spencer, don't stop!" You screamed at the top of your lungs, unable to control your pitch or volume as he slammed into you desperately. He was so turned on by the sight of you beneath him, so proud of having fucked away your virginity, to have given you your very first penetrative orgasm that he wouldn't have heard anything that came out of your mouth. 

His eyes were fixated at the place between you, where you joined, where he was entering you, defiling you, claiming you, using you, breeding you. 

He knew he wouldn't cum inside of you, not the first time, but it was tempting. Instead, he chose to move his lips back to your skin. He marked you with love bites and hickeys across your neck, chest and shoulders as you moaned with every roll of his hips, shuddering on his cock. He was close. And seeing you like this, displaying all the signs that you were his and his only, he finally lost it. 

Pulling his dick out of you, he stroked it through his release, spraying his seed over the parts of your skin he hadn't bruised with love. Your stomach, your breasts, hell, one spurt even landed dangerously close to your lips, he was everywhere. You. Were. His. 

He fell beside you, panting for a few moments as you finally cracked your eyes back open, realising what the two of you had just done. You wiped the cum from your face with a stray finger, staring at it for a second before licking it off your finger. 

"As hot as that was, I think we should get you cleaned up properly, angel." He spends forever cleaning you up, carrying you to the bathroom, washing your entire body with hot water and a fresh cloth, running you a hot bath to relax your muscles. You snuggle into his chest at some point in the bath, relaxing so much into him, that you drift off to sleep. 

You feel him carry you to bed, semi-conscious, tucking you in and climbing in next to you. He holds you through the night, the way he holds you after your bad cases. He holds you until he doesn't. 

You're blindsided by the cold bed the next morning. You knew he would be there, you'd felt him inside you and next to you, and you'd needed his warmth, but he was gone. You looked for him in every other part of your home, looked for a note or an explanation, but there wasn't one. 

Through tears, you got ready for work, ready to face him and make him answer why he was suddenly gone. You wanted him to apologise, especially since he'd marked you so badly the night before you looked like a car crash victim from the neck down. 

Dark lavender blossomed along your collar bones as you looked at yourself in the mirror, trailing a finger along every place that he touched the night before. 

"How could you be so stupid?" You cursed yourself. If you'd have listened to what he was saying last night, really listened, you'd have known he wasn't going to be here in the morning. He wanted to ruin you, to possess you, to take away your virginity, and he'd done just that. 

You almost wanted to keep the bruises on display going into work, to make him confront the pain he caused you by leaving. In the end, it was the inevitable stares from everyone else that convinced you otherwise. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction. 

You pushed through the doors to the bullpen and didn't bother putting your bag down before you started scanning the room for him. 

"Where's Spencer?" You practically shouted the words at Morgan, unable to hold back your anger. 

"Y/N, what's wrong?" 

"Where is he?" You demand, and there must be something in your eyes that speaks to your devastation because Morgan shuts up and just points to the top of the stairs, where Spencer is exiting Hotch's office without a care in the world. 

You don't realise that something is tears until you're beating a hand against his chest in frustration as they spill down your face. 

"Where were you?" You demand, sobbing into his chest, as he pulls your hands away. The entire office is watching your commotion, but you don't care, you're not letting him move you out of the way. 

"Y/N, I need you to sign this." His voice is calm, and you hate him for that. That he can stay so neutral when he's just broken your heart. 

"No, not until you tell me why you left." 

"Sign the papers, Y/N, trust me." He pulls your chin up so you can look him in the eye, and you catch a glimpse of the man who has been holding you, comforting you for the last four months. You snatch the pen from him and sign the papers, thrusting them back at him with a scowl. 

He smiles as he looks down at them, placing them back on his desk before pulling you in for a long, deep kiss. You're shocked at first, but you melt into it, pulling him closer so he can't leave again. 

"I'm sorry. I had to come into the office to declare our relationship, Morgan sometimes tells me I have a one track mind, and when I woke up this morning, the one thing I wanted to do was get it in writing that you were mine." 

Your push the tears out of his face, and attempt to pull him down for another kiss. You don't get the chance, as the sound of several throats clearing around you burst your bubble. 

"Public space, no canoodling." Rossi shouts down at you from the balcony, a soft smirk on his face. 

Penelope runs in from her office, and stares wide-eyed at the lack of space between the two of you. "You! And you! Security cameras….. You!"

"Now, I'm sure there's a story here, but from the state of our little angel's neck here, I'm sure I don't want to hear it." Derek laughs, smacking Spencer on the back in praise as he walks up the stairs to the meeting room. 

You slap a hand over your neck, trying to pull the turtleneck further up to hide the mark you evidently missed. 

"She's my angel, now." Spencer calls up to him. "I have the paperwork to prove it."  

[seumyo]

KENJI SATO ✰ 10:43

“Working overtime really doesn’t suit you, Sato.” The teasing sentence made Kenji grunt in disapproval, slumping against his couch.

“Wow, I didn’t notice. Thank you for that valuable input, [Name],” he says, rolling his eyes at you. 

He can’t help the sarcastic reply. Kenji’s schedule was all over the place. His life has been all over the place ever since his return to his home country, Japan. And now he not only has to take care of himself—which, in his defense, was fairly simple when he just had to worry about himself—he has to worry about an infant Kaiju!

What a wonderful (not) icing on the cake.

“Ken is really appreciative that you made time to fulfill his request, or, shall I say, cry for help, [Name].” Mina’s familiar voice flurried from a distance, closing in to your right in a breeze. 

“Hey! It was not a cry for help—it’s more like a... Asking a friend for a favor,” Kenji says, trying to ease his brain with what’s coming out of his mouth (like it was on autopilot, scrambling to defend himself and the pride he had left).

“Uh huh. And the favor is? I don’t really think there’s anything I could do to her containment unit or any repairs that’re needed in this place.”

“I just need someone to watch over her.”

(“I just need someone to talk to” is a much fitting phrase.)

“Doesn’t Mina already do that?”

“There’s only so much a supercomputer like me can do to entertain a living being, [Name].”

On cue, Emi croons at the video of you singing on stage. A part time career of yours, because when you’re not developing new tech that boosts the economy, you might as well indulge in your hobbies. 

Kenji wouldn’t admit it, but he has a vinyl or two—or even a whole collection of them—that he considers as priceless as his one-of-a-kind sports car displayed in the basement.

“Would you look at that? She likes your singing.” 

He watches as you take a step closer to Emi, observing how she delightedly squealed at the soft melody being played on the holograms. This 20-foot-tall baby Kaiju reminded you of the time you took care of children at the daycare center.

“I just...” he sighs. You didn’t even notice that Kenji was already beside you, offering you a canned drink. 

“How do you do it? Juggle everything?” He murmurs. “You’re the busiest person I know. Working on your thesis, performing at various concerts, taking on charity work, and whatnot. Hell, if you could run for president, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you in the elections, too.”

A quiet laugh was returned. “It’s not easy, that’s for sure. But within time, you’ll learn just what you need and what you can handle.”

“Mm. Don’t you ever just want to run away from all the responsibilities people place on your shoulders? I can barely take care of this young lady,” he chuckles, though it doesn’t hold even the slightest ounce of humor to it.

“I wish, but then I’ll remember the kids who're so happy to see me whenever I drop by,” you say. “They may be a handful at times, but you’ll be surprised to know just how smart and caring they are. How they take in their surroundings and attempt to figure out who they are. We’re all what they have. The least we could do is give them our time and love all the same.”

Kenji lets your words sink in. Simple and touching. The kind that gets the gears in his head to start twisting.

“You really are a charm with your words; did you know that?”  

“Thanks; I try my best.”

The night continues with Kenji and Emi playing baseball on a simulated field with you by the shed, cheering on from a safe distance. Kenji doesn’t remember the last time he’s been this genuinely happy after his return to Japan. It’s a refreshing feeling that he wants to get used to again. To see the baby Kaiju successfully hit the ball with a swift swing after watching after him is a sight that tugs at one’s heartstrings.

Just like a proud father.

“Come on, girl! We gotta run the bases!”

And as the two celebrate their moment of triumph, the baby Kaiju stomps toward you and giggles happily as she hoists you in the air without much warning. You took it all in you not to shriek and absolutely lose all composure, but when you’re up in the air and are being held to a bear hug like some sort of teddy bear by a Kaiju that could probably crush your bones if not careful, it’s hard to not just scream for your life.

“Oh, ok—ok. Baby, put me down gently, please,” you chuckle nervously. 

“It appears that the little one sees you as her other mother,” Mina adds.

Kenji laughs at the sight, pulling out his phone to take a picture. This is definitely a memory he’d want to remember.

“This is not funny, Kenji. Tell her to put me down.”

“Aw, is Baby not listening to her Mommy?”

“Again, not funny. This is like an out-of-the-blue co-parenting a child with you. With you being my annoying ex-husband.”

“Specific, eh?”

“Shut!”

When you’re just about to leave for the night, Kenji suggests that you sleep over. There’s a lot of spare bedrooms in their manor, he reasons. He also doesn’t understand what came over him to offer, but he doesn’t take it back.

But it could be because he’s missed you. And he’s somewhat afraid that this may be the last time you see each other in a while due to your clashing schedules.

“You’re such a girl dad, Kenji,” you tease.

“Haha, good one,” he says, rolling his eyes at you. He took a couple of blankets from the closet and placed them on the bed.

“Just saying.”

“Whatever you say, Mommy.”

“Oh hush, Daddy.”

That ringed out a laugh from him. “Bleh, that sounds so embarrassing coming from you.”

You shrugged. “Hm? Don’t you think you’re embarrassing too?”

“I’m not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“Are too. I will not be going back and forth like this with you anymore, Kenji Sato. Good night!”

Kenji can’t hide the smile that appears on his face. Yeah, he definitely missed this. 

Definitely missed you.

SEUMYO © 2024. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Beekeeping age [Dilf!Konig x fem!Reader]

You're ex-boyfriend is an asshole, so you decided to fuck his hot military dad instead. You're going to find out why his first wife ran as fast as she did, very soon - but Konig is still the best dick that ever happened to you.

CW: Daddy kink(obvi), power imbalance, possessive Konig, perverted Konig, age gap(Reader in her early twenties, Konig in his early forties), mentions of cheating(your ex is a douchebag anyway), slightly obsessive Konig, size kink, unprotected sex.

FIRST PART (can be read separately) AO3

— Why your wife left you, again? 

You stuff your face full of…something. He cooked it – gods did he cook it well. It’s meat and vegetables and spices, and it feels like your dad cooking but twice as good. It feels like pure sin because he says you shouldn’t worry about calorie counts or how fat the meat is, or how good everything tastes fried because he needs his special girl to feel good and healthy and fatten up a little bit, and you…gods, you’re down. Bad. 

You wonder if König’s wife left because she couldn’t compete with his cooking. You wonder if his wife left because he was feeding her too good. 

— Why don’t we leave uneasy questions for later, Schatzi? 

He brushes his hand over your hair, taking in the way you look – dressed up in his shirt, skin covered in bites and bruises from his hold. He can’t see it right now but can almost testify to the way your lipstick was all over his collar – good thing he wasn't wearing his uniform shirt, wouldn’t want to make dorks from Kobra jealous. 

He brings you another plate, he fills your glass – you never knew beer could taste this good, but he whispered something about having his own little homemade brewery for wine and beer somewhere in the mountains, in his Summer house. This man has a hug apartment in Vienna and a Summer house – you think you heard him having enough land to go hunting and to keep bees, and you might have cum a little bit just here and there. 

— I would like to know the story, actually. To not repeat her mistakes, you know. 

— You won’t, Liebling. I can already picture you with a ring on your pretty finger. 

— Not so fast. Maybe I don’t believe in marriage. 

— You’re too young to stop believing in it. 

— Way to talk when you’re the divorced one, sir. 

— Shut it, Schatzen. I can still take care of a good girl like you, ja? König leans in to kiss you, his lips brushing over your mouth – it’s wet and swollen, he bite you quite a few times already, and you feel dizzy just from the way his tongue lingers just a second before going in, taking your arousal even more. His hand gently brushes some hair from your face and you giggle from the sensation of his rough fingers on the softness of your skin. It never failed to mesmerize you, just how seasoned and old the colonel might be – and his hands would still tremble as if he is handling the finest porcelain doll in his hands. He has the expression of an anxious, devoted follower – you are not sure how his wife could left him. If he was looking at you like this every day, even as you go through with pregnancy and a piece of shit kid like Paul, you would die before leaving him. 

— Could you two please stop fucking each other? 

— I thought you wanted to move to dorms.

— This is my house too!

— Not on the documents, it’s not. — You can’t just throw me away, dad! — Your new stepmom needs her space. 

König grasps your shoulder as you try to stop them from arguing again – it’s embarrassing enough that you’re fucking your ex’s dad. Colonel makes it a whole fucking show, parading you around as his controversially young girlfriend, making sure that his son will hear your moans and whimpers as you get fucked at every surface of this apartment. You were wondering if you could ask him to move to the Summer house – even with your college and all. You can take a gap year and write a journalist investigation about lonely veterans and their mastery at brewing alcohol. You can take a gap year and try your best in the new trophy wife gig. König’s hand is firm on your shoulder – you know better than to try and argue with him, the silent recognition of authority loud in your head. You sigh, trying your best to just stop yourself from acting too damn weird. It’s their male thing, and you’re just an intruder in a big T-shirt and old leggings. König said it wasn’t his wifey’s – that he burned all of her stuff when she left. Somehow, you find peace in that statement. 

— How could you even…Jesus fucking Christ, this is disgusting. She is my age! — And the most beautiful girl in the world. I can see why you liked her. — She is my girlfriend! — Schatzi came to me in distress and begged me to take her. I think we both knew you weren’t…the best option. You feel more embarrassed with each second of their conversation. You don’t want to listen, you don’t want to take in their words, you feel like a trophy being discarded between two different winners. You feel like a prized mare on a farm – and they won’t even look at you. Too distracted by the sound of their voices, you eat your dinner in somewhat somber peace because you need to eat, after all, and you really like what König cooks. You like what König does most of the time. All of the time. 

Paul storms off the room after a few minutes of bickering. You feel guilty for not stopping him because he was still kinda your boyfriend. You ex-boyfriend. Your asshole incel-ish ex-boyfriend whose assholless literally made you go and sleep with his dilfy dad, and…god, you feel like a whore. Good. Paul was calling you a whore a lot of the time, you may as well take the new name and plaster it in your new badge. 

König’s hand lingers on your back, caressing it gently. You whimper because you feel bad and you’re still in college, and Paul’s disgusted reaction reminds you that fucking a guy in his forties isn’t the best business decision. Even if the said guy is a retired colonel with shitload of money, even if he still goes to work sometimes, just because he wants to feel cool and shoot guns at bad guys, even if this guy buys you cool gifts and he promised to renovate your car or buy you a new one, and he makes plans and takes you to places that don’t make you feel like begging for attention. 

If anything, you feel like he is drowning you with attention. 

His hand lets go of your shoulder – he was holding you so tight the whole conversation, you can sense the bruises forming on your skin. You lick your lips, and he moves to kiss you again. You feel like drowning, you feel like this is all just a dream – and you’re also drunk because gods, König knows how to make a good glass of…something. 

— You shouldn’t act like this. He is your son. 

He laughs dismissingly. He dismisses a lot of things you said – you think it’s the age difference. You think he is just being traditional, and you don’t want to be too nagging. You don’t want to end up like his wife and wake up from the dear you’ve been seeing. 

König’s lips are soft, and you can look past his hands, taking you too possessively – you can close your eyes, and you can just listen to his accent, smiling as his tongue worms its way into your mouth. He is good, you think – at this whole kissing thing. At this whole “Hi there, I’m a retired old dog and I am fucking the girlfriend of my only son. I’m divorced btw” .

He has experience – you know it when he tucks your lip between his teeth, when he massages your shoulders as you spread your legs already, so wet for him, it’s almost embarrassing. You never slept much with Paul – his poor excuse of a son – it was always never enough lube, it was always never enough attention, he always needed you to shave or to leave your hair to grow a little bit, it was either your perfume being too sweet or you no wearing anything at all. You thought he would have much more fun masturbating to his anime chicks and poor gaming sessions with his friends. 

But König isn’t like this – every time he drops on his knees to eat you out like a man starving, you feel utter and complete devotion. In his tongue, in his mouth, in his teeth as he sucks little marks into your thighs, making sure you will remember it tomorrow when he will ask you to stay for breakfast and then ride you to whatever you need to come next. Last time he promised to drive you to the library, he took a few turns and took you to some restaurant instead. You gushed about not having proper attire, he was still in his half-uniform and rocking dark cargo pants, and he was apologizing every time his fingers hit that special spot in your cunt as he fingered you during the second course of meals. He said that he was so, sorry about not fucking you properly, about having to resort to public displays like this – and you were too high on loving him to care. You still are. — I don’t think we should be…

— He left. Won’t bother us anymore. 

— I’m not in the mood right now. 

— You’re always in the mood, Schatzen. Enough to drive me crazy. — You’re a pervert. Like Paul. 

— He takes on after his father, ja?

It would alarm you how much contempt he had for his own child right now. Then, again, you were the one who dumped his son for the powerhouse of a dad. Maybe it was your daddy issues, maybe it was your dumb reasoning and the summer break that you didn’t want to spend with your family. Good thing you’re spending it with the other. 

König’s face is buried between your legs, his teeth tugging on the soft fabric, forcing your leggings down. God, it feels good – he is so high on wanting you, can’t even wait to take off your clothes properly. You never had a man wanting you so badly before – it’s addicting, it’s crushing, it makes you feel like a goddess among men. Makes you feel wanted, a thing that your ex never did. 

You forget about guilt when he kisses your lower tummy, when his lips trace down to your cunt, taking sharp licks through your panties. You wore them this morning, something from a new lacy set he bought – one of the only ones that weren’t torn off from your body the moment you took them on. He always wanted you to make these little fashion shows for him, making good use of his money – you weren’t a sugar baby, not on paper, you still clutched to the last traces of your dignity, but he did buy you a lot of gifts. 

— S’ pretty for me, Liebling. The prettiest girl in the world.

— I assume after…af..ter your wife. 

You giggle when he frowns, his rugged face filled with concern. He doesn’t like jokes about his marriage – you don’t want to ask him about it because it would mean waking up from a dream you want to experience over and over again, but you heard what Paul was talking about. What his mom told him about. you heard enough to know that kissing a man like König is a safety hazard and a liability that you can’t afford, but it’s warm, and he is rich, and you don’t want to go back to your part-time job this season. You want to be dumb and you want to be young – right now, you’re doing both. — Don’t be so dumb, Schatzi. Although it suits you. 

— I’m not dumb! 

— Nein, you’re not. Just silly. 

— You just call me a different type of dumb. 

— I like it when you’re dumb. Makes you cuter. 

König is awkward and funny, and he buys you things that you could never afford. He is mysterious and kind – to you, not his enemies – and he uses German words randomly in his phrases because he knows the accent, and the pronunciation drives you crazy. You never thought of thinking of yourself as a dilf hunter but, hell, here you are. With his dark ginger stubble – and grey streaks that make you go wild every time you look at him – between your thighs. It’s tickling, and it’s a bit irritating, and he will rub some calming lotion in your skin after this, making sure to cover every inch of your skin with some expensive cream that he knows jackshit about, but you wanted it, and so he went out and bought it. Gosh, you felt dumb even asking him for this. 

He traces his kisses along your thighs, tongue lingers to press against your wet, swollen folds. Flirting in front of Paul made you embarrassingly hot, solidifying you as a shitty, bad, horny person who needs fat cock stuffed in your leaking pussy. You lick your lips, and you tremble when he pushes his tongue inside. He is starving, pushy with all of his needs – makes you almost beg for it, like a pet he took from the street. 

— I want to take you to the Summer house next week. 

You open your eyes, shocked. It’s nothing, really, you shouldn’t be this surprised about him wanting to show off his other properties. You want to check out his wine cellar and how sturdy the furniture is. You want to see if he had deers running around the house. If he had any pictures of his family – and if you could ever hope to compete with his ex-wife. It’s a petty competition, but you don’t have much to do and to think about. It’s obvious the love here won’t last until the end of the break, and you want to get as much from it as possible. Maybe even some hot bikini picks at his pool. He has to have one. — What if I have plans, sir? 

It’s innocent and you play the role well. You think some of your friends wanted to hang out or make a study group for the upcoming semester. You are a good girl at heart, with nice grades and a perfectly played-out future, and not as many working opportunities as you may like, but you could manage with something. Writing a killer essay about your life with a smoke show during Summer would be easy with someone like him. 

He laughs, his hand lightly smacks your butt. You bite your lip and whimper, not accustomed to pain feeling this good. 

— You will change them, little one. For the whole Summer. 

— I wanted to study. 

You moan when he lightly presses his tongue on your swollen clit, kissing and licking it. Slick runs down your legs, and he collects it with his mouth. You whimper again, tears prickling at the edge of your eyes – the sensation is sudden and overwhelming, makes you get your hands in his hair and slightly tug. He groans, pleasure from having you so active, so participating is overwhelming. He loves you, loves you, loves you, adores you. God, you’re beautiful. And so, so restrained – just his special good girl. Only for him. — You can study at our house. 

— You mean you and your ex’s house. 

He smacks you again for the foul language – although you know you didn’t even curse, he is still punishing you. In the lightest way possible, of course, you know you won’t handle anything too harsh – still, you feel nice and warm when he isn’t just eating you out, but also smacks you for speaking in such unpretty words again. 

You don’t even register the way he called the house yours too. All too dumb for this, again. 

— I mean our house, Schatzen. Just you and your daddy, ja? You worry too much about studying. 

— I want a nice job. Without…distractions. 

He slips one finger in your warm, tight hole – even just one digit is enough to make you shiver, clenching it like a sloppy whore. He is big in every way – just two of his fingers are bigger than a normal cock, and no, you didn’t want to compare a son with his father, but even Paul’s cock, as big as it was, was still way thinner than his father’s. 

— Why you need a job? 

— Not everyone are retired military. I need money. 

— You have me. 

— I d…don’t want to be a sugar baby. Sir. 

— I have no problems with being your daddy, Schatzen.

König is build like a powerhouse – when he slips just the tip into you, ignoring all previous preparation because, by god, you both need to feel connected, he is dragging you on top of the table, tossing aside the dirty dishes with remains of his perfectly cooked dinner…and you feel like home. Almost. 

You imagine waking up with his cock every morning, and with the nice cup of coffee only he can make. You imagine him gushing about rebuilding the house and working on his tight and neat desk job at the mercenary company – something about instructing, dumb recruits, only the most elite missions as an operator in retirement, creating strategies and tactics for the warfare – and thinking that, wow, your husband is really cool. You shouldn’t be thinking this because this is just a summer fling. Your relationships with Paul weren’t too serious either, you just didn’t want to be alone. 

König gently caresses your fingers, whispering something about numbers – you think you could recognize the word for a ring a bit later when he was making a call to some friend. In German, of course, you don’t quite understand it, but you worm your warm on his lap like a spoiled cat, purring on his crotch like a good fucking girl. But it was a while later. 

Now, you’re gasping and panting, his cock spreading you open and stuffing you like the poor bird he was cooking for dinner. You know you won’t be able to walk after a short while – would probably have to spend the day at his house, with him cooing and gushing about your sore body while he is quietly proud of himself. If you’re lucky, you could convince him to let you go in the evening. If you’re not, he will ask you to stay the night, and maybe even a bit more, and then he will just get the bag with your stuff from your room in the dorm by himself, and then… — What do you think about getting married in August?

Maybe, you do know why his wife left him.