#sorry if I managed to trick you into believing that

[sheltershock]

Another day, another Milla. I’m actually happy with how her dress looks.

[kaeyas-beloved]

a moment too late

Characters: Ayato, Diluc, Childe, Cyno, Wriothesley, Zhongli

— your husband doesn't make it to you in time...

CW: ANGST w/ very little to no comfort, gn!reader (they/them pronouns), scars (Diluc), blood (Diluc, Childe, Cyno, Zhongli), death (all except Cyno and Diluc), kidnapping (Cyno), minor Fontaine Act 1 + 4 spoilers (Primordial Sea Water - iykyk), spoilers for Childe’s real name

val's no sympathy novemeber masterlist

I don't know if I can take a month of hurting my boys....

Thinking about them not making it in time...

Ayato, who had been in an important meeting.

He'd given strict instructions to all his retainers and the Shuumatsuban to not interrupt under any circumstance. So, when one of the newer helpers knocked on the door, the commissioner was less than pleased. Without letting the young man get a word out, Ayato cuts him off, a sharp smile on his face. "Please, wait outside. I'll deal with the matter after this."

When the retainer tried again, a feeble "but, my lord-!" sputtering over his twisted tongue, the change in Ayato's tone couldn't be missed, and it left no room for interjections.

When a second knock echoed through the room some minutes later, it took everything in the clan head not to sigh out loud in front of all the powerful politicians and businessmen. This time, however, when it was the familiar face of Thoma that stepped in, a scarily straight face as his expression, something shifted in the male. It didn't help that the pyro user didn't stop his advancement toward him, even at the call of his name.

It was like the whole world shattered the moment the blond leaned by his ear, the news that you'd been placed in the nearest hospital plummetting his heart into his stomach.

There's this inner struggle that takes over, the role of a leader and your husband fighting against one another - he can't just leave so abruptly, but he also feels like he might crumble if he isn't by your side in the next ten seconds.

It's the firm hand that's placed on his shoulder that breaks him away from his thoughts. Following the arm he meets the slight smile of Thoma, "I have this handled, my lord. Go, be with them."

He's up and out of the room in an instant, briskly walking in the direction of the hospital. When he gets there he borderline demands the receptionist to tell him your room number, off again the moment she gets the last syllable out. Just as he reaches the curtain separating you from him, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest, a doctor steps out.

"Lord Kamisato..." his tone is grave as he blocks the entrance with his body. Despite the obvious attempt to stop the young lord from entering, your husband tries to sidestep him. He's stopped by a simple raise of the hand and he feels a mix of disdain and unsettlement swirl within.

"Please, let me speak with them," Ayato nothing but begs, something he never does. He's known as a negotiator, a logical reasoning man, he doesn't need to beg for what he needs in the political world, but for you, his world, he'd gladly grovel at this man's feet just for you.

The aforementioned man licks his lips, adjusting his clipboard so it rests against his chest, "I'm sorry Mr. Kamisato, but that won't be possible..."

The urgency rises and Ayato moves the doctor out of his way, stepping into your room. It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together about what was trying to be said, but your lover can't bring himself to believe it. Not you too.

The moment he's at your bedside he leans close, trying to wear a smile as he places his hand on your shoulder, softly shaking you the exact same way he did that very morning. "My dear... wake up. This is no time for your silly tricks, we have to go home and have dinner together like I promised." His warm hands move up to your cheek, brushing his thumb along your equally warm skin, but when you make no move or noise the reality finally sets in for him.

His broken smile slips and all he can manage is a soft call of your name. Of course, there's still no answer, and Ayato is stuck flipping between the different stages of grief.

What if he'd listened the first time? Let the retainer who initially walked in speak? Would he have gotten a chance to speak with you? To tell you he loves you? To say goodbye properly?

You can't actually be dead, right? There's no way this is happening to him again.

He starts to promise to spend more time with you, he'll take off as much time as you want him to, he'll take you to that restaurant you've been wanting to go to but couldn't bring yourself to without him, he'll visit the land of Liyue with you - he knows you've been gushing about the scenery and culture recently. He'll do it all and more, you just had to open your eyes again for him.

Silence.

"Damn it all..." he whispered, face twisting in agony. Of course he couldn't have it his way this time. As if his parents weren't enough, the world just had to take you away from him too.

The doctor watches for a moment as one of the most powerful men in Inazuma sheds tear after tear before him, the droplets falling and hitting your lifeless body. As Ayato sinks to his knees before you, the doctor takes this as his cue to step out.

For the next few hours, the hospital is noticeably quieter, no one daring to interrupt a man who's just lost one of the dearest people to him.

For the next few hours, Ayato's tears slowly soak your shirt, his grip on the bedding knuckle white, his sobs muffled by your skin as it slowly grows colder and colder, fighting to commit everything about you to memory.

That night, he could not bring himself to eat dinner, for all he could remember was you, the way you smiled at him and how it was all ripped away from him, never to be seen again.

———

Diluc, whose connections are spread all over the world yet no one could locate you.

It should be impossible. The owner of Dawn Winery only associates himself with competent business partners. So, how could it be that the best of the best from all walks of life and all backgrounds couldn't locate the one person he needed to find?

Tirelessly, the redhead looked for you. Many sleepless nights weighed on him from shouldering so many responsibilities at once. He constantly asked for updates on the investigation and every time the news that there were no advances was just another layer of stress for him. So, of course, the moment the word of your location reached his ears, Diluc was up and out the door, claymore in hand, a fury in his eyes that few have seen only a handful of times.

When he got there, there being some far corner of Starfell Valley on the mountainside, there was no time to process or ask questions. All he knew was that you needed help if you wanted even a chance of making it out alive.

By a stroke of luck, you managed to escape the Abyss Mages that had been holding you hostage, an atrocious act that was no doubt aimed to make The Darknight Hero suffer. However, weaponless and exhausted, the creatures of down under easily caught up to you, surrounding you and throwing you around like a ragdoll. Diluc counted seven - one hydro, two electro, two cryo and two pyro - each using the elements to keep you from running too far.

With a few swift strikes of his enflamed claymore, the cryo and hydro mages disappeared in a cloud of red and black. Of course, they'd be the easiest of the group to get rid of. The last four would be the real challenge.

In between strikes, Diluc managed to get close to you, bending down to your fallen form. “Are you alright? Can you walk?” He did a once over of your body, noting that dirt clung to you and a couple cuts littered your skin. You could barely move too, having the shit kicked out of you.

“Not very far…” you groaned, raising your body slightly off the ground. Your lover nodded, glancing at the enemy before helping you stand.

“That’s alright, just get to that tree over there. I’ll come get you and take you home soon.” Diluc watches for a moment as you nod and begin to make your way over, turning his back to you once you've made decent progress. Taking up his weapon once more, it's a brutal clash of sparks and fire as he lets his adrenaline and rage fuel his every move. Soon, one electro mage goes down, and then the second and then one of the pyro ones until all that stands between him and getting you medical care and a nice bath is a single pyro Abyss Mage.

The demonic creature cackles loudly, a shrill sound that echoes in the silence. As it begins to wave its staff, a shock of recognition strikes Diluc and he glances around, looking for where the fire-breathing faces are going to appear. When he doesn't spot any dread fills his being and he chances a glance towards you, praying to the Archons that what he's thinking isn't about to play out.

The gods weren't in his favour.

Time seems to slow as he watches the triangle of heads surround you; he watches as you slowly turn to face one head-on, your tired eyes widening as you register the situation. Dilcu's only able to catch you turning your face away before he attacks the mage while its guard is down, interrupting its early dance of victory.

The next few minutes are a blur, both for you and your husband. Everything hurts, any slight movement or breath sends shooting pain through your body. When Diluc picks you up off the ground you let out the most heartbreaking cry he's heard and it took everything in him not to just stand there and soothe you.

He mumbled apology after apology, offering words of comfort as he ran as best he could without harming you further. When he made it to the cathedral he was ushered out of the room, every nun available flocking to your side. Despite the overwhelming emotions building in him, Diluc lets you go, waiting with as much patience as he can muster, which isn't a lot at that moment.

It takes about an hour before a sister approaches him, every second that he waited excruciating. She tells him that while your face was unharmed, you having managed to lean out of the way just in time, your upper arm, shoulder and the base of your neck on your left side were burned pretty bad and that scarring was almost guaranteed.

"But are they alive?" is all he asks in return. He cares that you were hurt, but he cares more to know if you'll live to spend another day with him. All the sister can do is nod, informing him that recovery will be slow, but you are alive. She adds right after that while you passed out from everything he was still allowed to enter and sit by your side. So, he does.

The nun didn't lie when she told him that things would be slow. It took several days before you could be discharged, and even when you were the days and nights that followed were filled with more torture than the usual joy.

Your burns would irritate at the slightest things, and you started to doubt your looks, wondering if your husband would still love you by the end when the wounds were all healed. At night you were haunted by nightmares of your time in captivity, and by the face of the abyss spell that burned you. It didn't help that the face was red and fluffy, just like Diluc's hair, leaving you to back away from him every time you woke up from that recurring dream, your mind tricking you that that thing had come back.

And all Diluc could do was hold you close to his chest once you saw that it was just him. He'd rub a warm hand along your back as you sobbed and shivered, quietly blaming himself for not being fast enough - to find you, to defeat the enemy, to get you out of the way of the fight. If he had been, if he succeeded in any of those things, then maybe you wouldn't have to live with this pain and trauma.

You were alive, but at what cost?

———

Childe, who was all the way in Inazuma for a mission.

Your husband left you that fateful day with a tight hug, a promise to come home and a kiss on the lips. As he walked further and further away from you all you could think about was greeting him in the same fashion. Your touch was his favourite thing after all, a reminder that you're there with him and that you love him despite all his wrongdoings.

The day came when Ajax set foot back in his homeland, and the first thing he did was search for you at the dock. When he didn't spot you, he'll admit he was a little disappointed but didn't think much of it. You were most likely just relaxing at home.

Yet, when he walked through the door he couldn’t find you anywhere. “Strange… where could they have gone? Maybe mom and dad’s?”

A quick trip over there reveals nothing however, just the tidbit of information from his mother on how it’s been a couple days since you’ve visited and that you last told them you were needing to chop some firewood.

Now he was not only confused but a sense of dread plagued his chest. Hoping it’s just his normal worrying, Ajax bids farewell to his family and heads back home. Sure enough, he spotted some stacked logs off to the side. What didn’t make sense though was the lack of an axe and the footprints that lead further into the tree line behind your home.

Following the tracks, the male’s eyes widen and his expression falls as the patterns in the snow go from clean prints to frantic clusters, as if you began running. What really injected fear into him though was the barely visible Treasure Hoarder insignia buried in the snow, its gold sheen glistening from the sun.

At this point his feet had a mind of their own as he picked up the pace, his mind running a mile a minute with the scariest thoughts his brain could conjure.

He wasn’t sure if he should've been relieved or frightened when he found you lying in the snow. Either way, he sprinted the rest of the way to you, calling out your name. You were on your side, back to him; you must’ve rolled into the fetal position to stay warm.

And that’s when he noticed it, the pink tint of the usually pure white snow surrounding your fallen form. Panic shoots through him as he rolls you onto your back, his hand recoiling at the state you were in, covering his mouth.

"No..." your cold gaze stares up at the sky, skin lacking the warmth he craves after a long day. Between the folds of your undone coat reveals where most, if not all the blood flowed from, now dry from days passed. With a shaky hand, he moves the cloth aside, surveying the damage.

The cut was deep but didn't hit anything major from the looks of it... you would have bleed out slow and painfully, and the mere idea makes him sick to his stomach. More and more he looks at the damage done to you and the more his blood boils and his heart stutterers. You were innocent, his spouse, his best friend, you had no intimate dealings with Fatui work, so why you?

His eyes narrow back in the direction of the insignia, the sorrow morphing into anger; they were fucking cowards, going after you instead of him. At the sanctuary of your home no less.

Looking back at the body that once housed your soul, he noticed something odd about your hand. It was clasped shut like you were holding onto something.

He starts to pry your fingers open, and for just a moment he can imagine that you're alive, back in the warmth of your home, grasping his scarf in a game of keep away. He'd pull you close, wrapping an arm around you and trapping you to his chest, grasping your wrist and trying to get the red fabric from you. Your husband would laugh merrily, "demanding" that you give him it back or else, to which you'd tell him no, because as long as you had it then he couldn't leave for the day.

When your palm finally opens up is the same moment time really stops and the world doesn't feel real around him. Picking up the small object, Ajax clasps it in his own hands, bringing it close to his chest - his heart - in hopes of feeling just the last bit of you left behind. He won't ever know this, but what he's doing now was exactly what you did in your final hour - you held the tangible promise you made with him close to you, your thoughts filled with him and only him as you took your last breath.

From that day onwards, your wedding ring rests against his collarbone, a string looped through it. He never takes it off, nor does he remove his own ring, because to him, you were the only one fit to take the place at his side in life. He doesn't want anyone else to love him, because no one could ever love or hold him in such high regard like you did.

It was everything or nothing, and you are his everything. Since you're gone, he'll gladly settle for nothing. Anything else and he'd label himself a cheater to your love.

———

Cyno, who prioritized catching the mastermind, lest any more innocents get hurt.

The General Mahamatra trudged back through the desert sands, clouds of dust trailing behind him. His grip was tight against the criminal’s wrists, leaving no room for escape. While part of him was solely focused on the captured mastermind, another part of him was thinking about you and how he's going to make it up to you for neglecting you the last few weeks. How could he ever possibly thank you or repay you for your neverending patience?

Rounding the last rock, Cyno finally makes it back to where he left you, having instructed you to wait there until he returned. You know that it was vital to stay put, so why is it that you've disappeared? Eyes red like the sunset scan the camp, finding that nothing was missing among your personal belongings or supplies.

As he continued to try and piece together the clues, you stood frozen in the shadows, an arm pulling you against a chest, keeping you in place. The hand over your mouth didn't help quell your fear, nor did the warm, rancid breath that tickled your neck.

How hard do you have to stare at the back of your lover's head for him to just turn in your direction!? Apparently very hard, because no matter how much you will a telepathic message his way, he still fails to find you. Tears begin to slide down your face - is this really it? Will this be the end? When he's so close to you? Will he turn and walk in the wrong direction, giving the man holding you time to escape with you in tow?

The looming threat that if you step out of line you risk harming yourself and Cyno plays in your mind, but you also remember nights lying in bed with your husband, whispering reassurance to him that no matter the situation you knew he'd always save you. You had full confidence in his abilities.

Gathering your resolve you take a leap of faith and elbow your captor, biting the hand that impairs your voice. Making a mad dash from the hiding spot, you scream for Cyno, watching as his head whips in your direction.

It all happened so fast after that. One second there's just you, him and the two Eremites and in the next, you're surrounded. The mastermind Cyno had been holding manages to retch his arms free, whistling a tune causing other desert dwellers to pop up from seemingly nowhere. A capture net is being thrown over you, aiming true and trapping you once more. Cyno, now flanked from all sides, can only watch helplessly as two men grasp the ends of the net, dragging you like you're nothing but a sack of goods.

You squirm with all your might, but it does nothing as you're effortlessly tossed in a caravan, screaming and sobbing for your husband. Amidst the scuffle, the leader orders the others to "shut them up" and right after a powder is poured on you, the effects taking seconds to kick in.

You begin to quiet until you slump on your side, and Cyno feels the urgency build even more. He channels all the strength he has into at least breaking through to get to you, but the moment he does the snap of reins echoes out and the cart takes off.

So, he runs, because for once something much for valuable that his life is on the line. Because he can't afford to let the bad guy get away this time.

But a man cannot match the pace of a horse, and it isn't long before his stamina reaches its limit and he stumbles, and you disappear over the horizon.

———

Wriothesley, who believed he could save everyone.

By no means was the warden of the Fortress of Meropide lacking in skills. He's proven time and time again that he's worthy of the title of Duke among the underwater structure, able to shoulder the responsibility of keeping each and every inmate well cared for and as comfortable as possible.

Perhaps that was the reason he's failing now to protect those he really cares for, for you were no inmate, but rather the person he swore to spend the rest of his life with.

He knew that this day would come, but he was still so, so unprepared for it. The damn seal was due to break sooner or later, and it chose today of all days to do so. The evacuation was quick, maybe even quicker than the first one, but there was one difference this time around. Today was also the day that a couple Melusines had come in Monsieur Neuvillette's place, delivering some reports to Wriothesley while also taking this time to speak with Sigewinne.

"Where are they?" The Duke grits his teeth, running through every area he can reach. You weren't far behind, having insisted a second pair of eyes was better than one. When another room turned up empty he slammed his first into the wall, cursing loudly.

You did another look through in the places he missed before sighing, placing a hand on his chest, "We'll find them Wrio. Take a deep breath, please." He stares at you for a moment, doing as you suggested. You offer a small smile, "There aren't many rooms left, they've gotta be here."

"I know," he sighs, running a hand through his messy hair, "but we're running out of time."

Just as he says that the building rumbles and shakes, the sound of a pipe bursting in the distance sending fear through your body. All it takes is a shared look for you two to start running again, eyes and ears sharp as you try to catch even the slightest signs of life.

There were only two rooms left to check when you heard a call, not by a Melusine but by a pair of inmates. Turning to look, your stress levels spike.

“Shit, this isn’t good,” Wriothesley mutters, surveying the situation the moment you both made it over. One of the inmates was trapped underneath a metal panel, and his buddy wasn’t strong enough to lift it off him on his own.

They plead for help and you can see the cool grey eyes of your lover start to unfocus, a million thoughts passing through his mind. Time is running out, and as he's internally about to lose his cool the sound of your voice brings him back.

Laying a hand on his shoulder you squeeze firmly, "Listen, how about we split up? You deal with this and I go find the Melusines. We'll be faster that way."

His eyes widen at your proposition, and he doesn't even have to think twice about denying, "Now, hold on just a-!"

Another tremor, and you have to harden your tone to get your point across, “We don’t have time Wriothesley, help them and I’ll search the two rooms. When you’re done get them out of here, I won’t be far behind!”

He wants to say no, wants you to get to the surface and he'll take care of the inmate and missing Melusines, but as he looks at the crumbling Fortress he finds himself biting his lips before nodding. "You better stay safe, or else."

You smile, turning and disappearing into the second last room. A quick search proves nothing and when you leave you see your husband beginning to pull out the stuck inmate. You're able to meet gazes for a moment only to break it off, rushing into the last room.

It's easy to spot the brightly coloured blue beings amongst the dreary Fortress walls. "Thank Archons!" You sigh, almost tripping over your feet in your hurry to get them, scooping them up in your arms, "we have to go now you two!"

There's a groan of metal and the clatter of something collapsing in the distance, and it's safe to say you didn't waste time sprinting out of there. As you pass where you last saw your husband, there's a momentary wave of relief at seeing him no longer lingering there. You know then that he's gotten out, and that he's probably waiting anxiously for you.

The thought pushes you to get out faster, jumping over any puddles that have formed or debris. But just because you can jump doesn't mean you can dodge.

One piece then two fell from above, but when you look up dread courses through you upon the realization that a good section of the roof is about to drop. You acted before you could fully think and tossed the two tiny beings in your arms, sprinting just a little faster before leaping yourself. You're glad you managed to throw them out of the collapse zone, but you weren't so lucky, your leg getting trapped from midway to your knee and down under the pile of rubble. All it took was one attempt at tugging your leg out to know it was stuck under there good.

"Go," you pointed in the direction of the exit, immediately beginning to dig yourself out. The least you could do was get them to safety. The Melusines however hesitated, looking at each other before looking at you again. You knew they weren't strong enough to lift anything off you, so you repeated the one-word order, adding that you'd be right behind them.

You hear more than you see them run off, and after a minute of struggling you manage to free yourself, continuing towards the exit.

Wriothesley didn't stick around the entrance, instead busying himself with checking on everyone. If he didn't then he'd go mad and rush back in to get you. As he made another round he spotted the two creatures of the sea clutching onto the Iudex, their heads buried in his neck. If they were safe, then you must've made it out too, right?

Wriothesley gives the order to close the Fortress of Meropide off completely, and he watches unaware as he cages you in. It's only by chance that, once he's almost to the surface, he looks out the window of his escape submarine and through one of the windows of the Fortress. The horror sets in.

Even if it's useless, you stumble and limp up to the glass, banging on it, screaming for him. You're not sure what he'd do though, maybe you just wanted to see him one last time, wanted to tell him you love him, that it's not his fault. You stare at him, tears streaming down your face before turning your back to the ocean and sliding down to the ground.

Even if he can't hear you, you whisper out your love for him, how you'd never hold this against him. You pray to the Archons, to the Traveler, to Neuvillette, to Clorinde to watch over him for you.

You eye the rising water, and to make it just a little more bearable you pretend it's the first time you got Wriothesley to go swimming with you. You had dip your toes in first, as a show that the water wouldn't bite. He wasn't scared of the water, and he knew how to swim; he wasn't ashamed of the scars on his body either. No, he refused to go swimming back then because he didn't want to freeze, and it took you and the trust he placed in your word to tell him the water was perfect.

So, you repeat that same action, imagining Wriothesley is right beside you like that day years ago.

From the water pod, your husband watches frozen as you vanish in an instant, continuing to watch as the water rises until it's above the height of the glass. In that single moment, most of the warmth in his heart vanishes along with you.

"You promised you'd be safe... I trusted you..."

It was the first and last time any prisoner would see the almighty Wriothesley cry out, for he swore sometime later that he'd close off his heart and never let anyone get as close as you did. He knows deep down that's not what you'd want, but he knew he could never go through the same pain again and still continue to live.

———

Zhongli, who you were fighting side by side with.

It's always been like that, you and him up in arms against the world. It was like that in the Archon War, in the Cataclysm and any other time someone threatened the safety of the Lord of Geo's territory. You had his back and he had yours, something that only grew stronger as your relationship developed from war buddies to friends then finally to lovers.

It was... naive of you both to think that you'd be able to spend eternity together without issue. You were too blinded by the fact that you were both going to withstand time and he believed that there was no way he'd fail to protect you, not with the strength he possessed.

Your downfall was not due to time or a lack of strength, but rather your own desire to keep the man you love safe from harm.

Zhongli did not see the sword pierce your skin, but he did hear the strangled cry you let out. He felt the fear wash over him, he saw the bloody aftermath as you fell forward into him, no longer able to hold yourself upright.

Instinctively he wraps his arms around you, sinking to the grass with you. Crimson stains his hands and clothes fast as if the wound was his own and he knows right then that your time together is limited.

The pain you feel is searing and with each breath you take you're fighting to keep that air in your lungs long enough to get more. Your husband spoke softly as he stroked your shoulder, "Why did you take the hit for me?"

When you looked up into his warm, amber eyes you knew then that this was the last time he'd hold you, the last time you'd speak with one another. How interesting it is that you both realized at different points that this was the end.

"You..." you cough, body trembling in his hold and Zhongli almost regrets asking you to speak. He just wants to make you comfortable in your last moments, to act as if everything is okay. "You... were going to get hurt."

The man you knew to never weep lets a single tear slide down his face, a light chuckle getting stuck in his throat, "ah, how like you to put me above yourself. I'm the same way with you, so I suppose I can't point fingers, now can I?"

“No… you can’t,” you smile back, but it’s tough to force it through the pain. You cough again and this time a little blood comes up as well.

It’s getting harder and harder to breathe as the seconds tick by. “Morax.”

The former Archon stiffens; you rarely ever call him by his real name unless you're serious about something. "Yes, my dear? What is it?" When he sees you trying to lift your hand to his cheek, Zhongli dips his head, placing his own hand over yours.

Glazed eyes watch as you swallow, stuttering on your own breath, "I'm... I'm very proud of the man you've become compared to the Archon I first met. I'm very proud of the things you've done for Liyue, and I'm grateful for the things you've done for me."

Your eyes droop a little, and he knows your time to depart is near when he sees you rest your head against him more and with the way he has to hold up your hand for it to stay resting on his cheek. He swears he won't let you slip away until you've said your final peace.

"I... I need you to promise me something Morax."

"You know I will always do my best to honour your wishes," he tells you, his grip tightening on your hand. A sudden breeze picks up, blowing his hair in such an elegant way that your face softens, never not amazed by his beauty. Tranquillity washes over you, and it may sound crazy, but the scent the wind brought to you smelt like home, like a simpler time in your life.

All other sounds are drowned out, the wind blowing them far away so he could hear you clearly, "You have to find happiness again... even though I won't be there for you. Can... can you promise me that?"

He pulls you impossibly closer, removing your hand just to place a gentle kiss on your palm before returning it to its place, "I promise." In that moment he feels like he's lied to you, for he believes he'll never truly recover from your death, but that doesn't mean he won't try for you. And as you smile up at him for the last time, Morax feels that he could live with his answer to you.

Much like his friends of old, he knows he'll see you in the little things around the city - a lantern, a blooming flower, a cup of tea, the fires in fireplaces - as if you're watching over him. He'll continue to walk forward as everything passes him by, mingling with the ever-changing people and culture and surrounding himself with friends, because that's what he promised you, and he wants you to see that even when you're not by his side to experience it yourself.

"I'm happy now, see? But I will never be as happy as I was with you"

Tag list (both regular and event exclusive): @spoopy-fish-writes // @that-enby-alien // @xenuuu // @kaeyaloml // @x-zho // @mariposa666haruka // @quackquackmfs // @kunikuzushiii // @genshin-impact-writings // @ventisweetheart // @lordbugs @leena-shi // @ari-the-wr1ter // @xiaos-wife // @milkwithspiceyicecubes // @stygianoir // @francisnyx

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@kaiserkisser // @multipleshadesofblue // @moloteco-real // @kithewanderingme // @scaramood

[5sospenguinqueen]

Princess Party | Lando Norris x Best Friend! Reader

Summary: Lando enjoys participating in all night life has to offer, particularly with his best friend. When Y/N falls pregnant after one drunken night, he panics. After all, why should he trade a club party for a princess party?

Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Baby fever. Loss of friendship. Pregnancy. Lando is not great in this.

Blonde female reader with various faceclaims. Pics found on Pinterest.

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YourUserName a podium for my favourite boy 🍾🧡#AustralianGP tagged: landonorris

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YourUserName and another huge well done to my other papaya pookie @ oscarpiastri for p4 🥳

→ oscarpiastri i thought we agreed you’d stop calling me that

→ YourUserName WE agreed to nothing

→ landonorris um i should be your only papaya pookie

→ oscarpiastri disrespected in my home town

georgerussell63 excuse me, why don’t you make posts like this about me

→ YourUserName when was the last time you were on a podium

→ alex_albon hahaha

→ georgerussell63 @ alex_albon hey, i’m closer than you are

→ YourUserName now, now, children, behave

User1 is this his girlfriend?

→ User2 no, just his childhood friend. she comes to most races to support him as she’s been there since his karting days

→ User3 and she’s really close with the the grid, but particularly the 2019 rookies

danielricciardo well done, mate. well deserved

carlossainz55 always nice to share a podium with you

User4 i'm sorry but i can’t believe her and lando are just friends when she takes the most boyfriend-coded pictures of him

mclaren petition to hire y/n as lando’s full time photographer

→ alex_albon no, because i need her to be mine considering she actually managed to make lando look good

liked by YourUserName

→ landonorris oi!

YourUserName posted a new story

landonorris posted a new story

maxverstappen1 posted a new story

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User5 i KNEW they were more than friends

User6 oh so now she realises her ‘feelings’, now that he’s winning trophies

→ User7 bitch she’s been by his side since baby karting days

User8 you wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me (the asylum being tricked into thinking y/n and lando were nothing more than friends)

User9 not max deleting his story after waking up and realising the consequences of his drunken actions

User10 y/nlando shippers rise! we’ve been waiting YEARS for this day to come

User11 what a gross invasion of privacy from that staff member. i hope they find out who it was and fire them

alex_albon @ LandoNorris awfully cryptic of you

danielricciardo @ LandoNorris how are you still alive

→ LandoNorris ‘cause I’m not old like you

User12 @ LandoNorris mr norris, tell us what you did

→ georgerussell63 more like who

(this comment has been deleted)

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A month later

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User1 looks like she removed everyone she didn’t personally know and made her insta private

User2 lando no longer follows her either

User3 what is going on in the house of commons

User4 maybe they truly weren’t dating but sleeping together screwed up their friendship

User5 looks like the rest of the grid still follow her tho?

→ User6 guys guys. GR63 isn’t following lando anymore either?!

→ User7 at least we know which side he picked in the divorce

→ User8 i'm worried this means lando did something wrong because whilst i love him, i can’t look past him screwing up their friendship just because he was thinking with his dick

User9 good, she wasn’t good enough for him anyway

→ User10 relax, he’s not going to shag you

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YourUserName just posted

liked by zbrownceo, flonorris and others

YourUserName me and you against the world. little bean coming soon tagged: yoursister

1,200 comments

YourUserName i think aunty @ yoursister might be more excited to meet you

francisca.cgomes can’t wait to meet little y/l/n

georgerussell63 me and carmen are so excited. She’s buying baby clothes already

lilymhe i call godmother

→ francisca.cgomes nuh uh

→ alex_albon get in line

→ yoursister we all know i win this battle

→ georgerussell63 whoa whoa whoa, back off, you already get aunt

charles_leclerc so excited for you, y/n/n

carlossainz55 congratulations

danielricciardo heck yeah! i can’t wait to meet the bean

maxverstappen1 do i see a red bull onesie in the baby’s future?

→ charles_leclerc try a ferrari one

→ alex_albon we all know it’ll be williams

→ oscarpiastri racing baby!

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Baby Fever Angst Series

Daniel’s Version | Max's Version | Lance’s Version

Charles’ Version | Oscar’s Version

Part 2 will be a redemption

Tag list

@lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @callsignwidow @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @elijahslover @hc-dutch @mxdi0 @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane @glow-ish @reguluscrystals

[divinesolas]

internal changes

summary: your long time betrothed jacaerys heads to winterfell to make good relations with the north, your relationship has always been one of love and happiness until you show up a month into his trip to winterfell where everything seems to have changed between the two of you. your relationship may never be the same and it has everything to do with a particular stark.

jacaerys velaryon x cregan stark x fem!non targ!reader

cw: infidelity, internalized homophobia, queer cregan and jace, threesome, poly relationship, hand job, oral (f), prob ooc for everyone man, p in v, anal, top!cregan, sub!jace, dom!reader, like one smack to the face, ‘sara snow’ mention? (its just cregan), not proofread

an: havent written in a hot minute im rlly rusty but ive gotten asked to write this for forever so here you go 😁

perm jace taglist ! (open) @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @jacesvelaryons @earth4angels @itsemohours @valdezthg

perm cregan taglist ! (open) @ireneispunk

He had been acting weird since you arrived. avoiding you at every turn, barely speaking to you and it bothered you to no end. His letters to you had been nothing but positive, speaking highly of winterfell and the lord stark who jacaerys also seemed to be avoiding as well.

he spoke about how much he missed you, how much he longed to see you but now that you were actually here he seemed to want nothing to do with you. a month ago you were the love of his life, he was obsessed with you, and now he would not even do so much as look your way.

then you heard the rumor for the first time. It seemed everyone had been trying to hide it from you but you heard it one night. the maids had been talking around the corner. Sara snow. The lord rumored bastard sister. With pretty long dark hair just like her brother. They had been sleeping together for basically his whole time there you presumed, you had even heard they got fucking married in front of the weirwood trees before you showed up.

You were sick. so sick about everything so sick of the thoughts you were having and you grew angry, furious but you managed to stay rational, calm, for now.

“are you happy?” he looked up at you started, you had barged into his room and locked the door quickly behind you. “y/n-“ “i am not angry, i was angry, but this is a very typical thing in marriages here i just wish you had informed me,” He stands up from his desk. readjusting the buttons on his white tunic to cover himself up further as he looked at you alarmed. He looked beautiful and you hate that. His hair wet and face flushed as he tries to find his words.

“i dont know what,” “ive heard the rumors. everyone talks about it, everyone looks at me with pity in their eyes. whether its this sara snow or some other lady i dont care because i believe it.”

He freezes. He looks down at his hands which shake, you wait for him to say something. Anything. a part of you hopes he denies it, even if it would be a lie you pray he can give you some false sense of hope but he doesn’t. merely standing quietly in shame while you let out a soft laugh devoid of anything. “if you wish for our marriage to be one of agreement then so be it. but do not try to trick me into believing itll be anything more than that any longer i refuse it.”

You turn to walk out of the room, no longer being able to stand in his presence but as you go to open the door his voice calls out to you. “there is no other lady.”

You scoff and turn back to him, his eyes are glazed over with tears as his chest rises with heavy breaths. A part of you wants to walk over to him and wipe his tears off his face but you remain firm as you scoff. “do not take me for a fool-“ “i mean it. there is no lady.” he puts an emphasis on the word that has you tilting your head. you open your mouth to question him until the pure desperate look on his face causes it to click. there is no lady. but there is someone.

“im sorry.” he flats and looks as though he did not expect you to say that. “for what? you have nothing to be sorry for it is i who should be-“ “i cannot be mad at you for who you are it is not your fault.” He walks over to you as you close the door, grabbing your hands as he shakes his head. “you miss understand me i like you i love you like i man loves a women but he,” he lets out a frustrated sigh but you can tell its not directed at you, “i love him as i love you.”

When there is a silence in the air for far longer than he likes he squeezes you hard tight as he looks at your blank face. “please say something my love.” “who is it?” he looks down once more as you remain firmly staring at him. “y/n..” “who?” “cregan.” He says his name likes its forbidden, the word travels in the air like a brush of wind but you still hear it all the same.

he doesn’t dare look up at you again as another wave of silences washes over you two. His heart is aching so badly he wants to clutch his chest and fall to the ground. He does not want to be like this, one of those men. He holds himself in higher regard, but he cant help how he feels about the winter wolf who smiles at him so kindly. He thought it could be one and done, manage to shake this illness from his skin and be done with it but it has only gotten worse.

it is wrong. he should not want to love cregan as he loves you. you are his light his world but why does he think of cregan as he thinks of you. Its wrong, immoral. He should be punished, he wishes for you to yell, to scream at him, hit him but you don’t. you merely pull away from him and walk out the room without another word. He drops to his knees when as you shut the door and he clutches his chest as he begin to sob, he is a monster and this fate is a cruel but just punishment in his eyes.

Cregan wake up that morning prepared to walk the same routine he always does. The images of the dark haired prince that flash in his mind go ignored another day as they have been ever since the princess arrived. he did not hate you, no he actually rather liked you a lot but he did miss getting to spend time with jacaerys who clung to his side before you had shown up and now had not even spoken a word to him.

He walks into the hall and pauses. There you sit, arms crossed and two plates of hot foot in front of you. it clicks. he looks around at all the guards and maids in the room, “everyone out.” the room quickly scatters, “and make sure nobody enters.” the doors as shut with a hard slam as he stalks towards you, eyeing you down with a gleam of mischief in his pupils. “its a shock to see you here princess.” “i am not a princess.” he hums as he takes a seat and begins to pick at his food while you merely stare at him. “something the matter?” “how long?”

he raises his brow as he dunks his bread in the soup before shoving it in his mouth, “how long what?” “dont play dumb with me lord stark.” He chuckles leaning back in his chair and you find yourself readjusting in your seat. He watched you with a pleased look as he licks on of his fingers. “not long enough that your pretty little head should be worried about it princess.” “he said he loves you.”

cregans face falls and his face turns serious as he looks at you. He can see the questioning in your eyes and lets out a sigh. “two weeks. but we’ve been friends this whole time. i never meant for it to go further i swear on my sons life. stepping in between the bonds of a betrothal is not my way.”

You hate that you find yourself believing him. you itch at your skin to the point it becomes red. “do you like him?” cregan scratched at his jaw as he moves his food around on his plate. “i do. very much. i apologize.” he watched as you take a deep breath as you stare at your plate, “i will not peruse it, you are his betrothed and it would be inappropriate and wrong of me. i will leave him alone, i will never even glance at him i have disrespected your honor and dignity enough.”

he stared at you waiting for a response, he watches as you bring the bowl of soup to your lips snd take a long sip before placing it back down and wiping the excess from your lips. “would you accept his mother terms here and now so we could leave by the afternoon if i asked?” “yes of course anything you want.”

he expects you to ask him to do it but you merely bring your chalice to your lips as a sinister grin finds its way to your face. “do you find me pretty lord stark?” his brows raise in question but he coughs into his fist, “um, yes i do princess.” he watches as you lean over the table and grin at him sweetly. “just how pretty lord stark?” he almost asks you whats wrong before he feels your foot drag up his leg slowly letting out a shaky breath before a groan as your food digs into his bulge. shakily and breathlessly staring as you as you press your boot covered leg harder against him leaving him gripping the table. “i have an idea im sure you will be pleased with.”

jacaerys is on the edge of cracking. he had not seen you all day. he had gone to your room to ask you to have breakfast with him but he was informed you were not there. he had gone looking for you, searching every corner for you and he found nothing. nobody would even tell him where you were but they all had an odd look in their eyes when they said that to him.

He does end up seeing you, finally with cregan stark on your arm and he feels his heart plummet. “good day jacaerys.” his mouth opens and closes like a fish as he stares at the two of you. “good,,, day,,,?” he watches the look the two of you share as he feels his heart stop, “cregan’s been showing me around a bit would you like to join us?”

He feels like this is a trick. The two of you look far too happy, he gulps and fiddled around a bit before giving you a weak nod. he ends up trailing behind the two of you as the two of you talk about winterfell. you ask cregan about the history of certain things and he eagerly answers your questions. jace is just waiting for the fire to lit, for the two or you to turn on him and begin to berate him.

His mind wanders as he imagines the two of you punishing him the way he deserves, cregan holding him down while you tease his cock, refusing to give him what he truly wanted. He lets out a light whimper as his thoughts continue to run wild and his eyes widen as he coughs into his fist trying to play it off as nothing. He lets out a sigh of relief as the two of you say nothing but he misses the look the two of you share.

You all arrive at a large study, “this was my fathers before he passed.” “do you not use it?” cregan shakes his head, a more somber look on his face. “i should, i will, one day, for now his legacy shall be preserved here.” you hum and nod your head in understanding. you take off your cloak as cregan also begins to strip himself of his outerwear. jacaerys stares at the two of you confused, you walk over to him and begin to untie his cloak from around his neck. “you should make yourself comfortable jace.” “what is happening my love?” he asks you in a hushed voice but you dont answer him, a small smile creeps its way onto your face and he grows worried.

he allows you to strip him down to his undertunic, making no move to fight you his eyes drift behind you to cregan who has made himself really comfortable his undershirt untucked and being held open but just one button, cregan raises his brow at jace as he catches his eyes, taking a long drink from his bottle.

you grab his face and jacaerys blushes, “what are you looking at?” cregan stalks his way over and stands behind jacaerys his hands wrapping around his waist as jacaerys feels his breath caught in his throat as cregan presses his head into his neck.

“you’re such a greedy boy, wanting two people at once huh?” he whines. cregan begins to suck at the skin on his neck. he’s confused. he has no clue whats going on. “what’s happening?” he curses as your hands dip into his pants and harshly grab at his cock, “me and your secret lover have come to an agreement isn’t that right?” cregan lifts his head and hums. He watches in amazement as the two of you share a small kiss and he throbs at the sight of the two people he cares for most being intimate.

“hmm thats right princess.” jacaerys struggles to think as you tug on his throbbing cock, rubbing your thumb around his tip as cregan goes back to sucking on his neck. “since you’re so greedy, you can have us both arent we so kind?” jacaerys moans in delight at this turn of events and buckles his hips into your hand. your face sours and you lightly smack him across the face, “and not a single thank you? you’re disgusting.” jacaerys whines and shakes his head vigorously. “im sorry im sorry thank you thank you i love you.”

He feels cregan chuckle into his neck, his hands pull away the buttons on jacaerys tunic not caring about the now ruining garment as cregan caresses his skin. jacaerys continues to greedily rut his hips into your hands feeling himself closer and closer to his release. He suddenly feels cregan press into his back and he lets out a shudder as cregan begins to grind his hips against jacaerys, his tunic having long been disregarded and their bare skin presses against each other.

Your hands are suddenly pulled off him and cregan also takes a big step away from him and jacaerys whimpers at the loss of contact and the way his cock throbs as his orgasm dies down. “dont think im going to let you get away with this that easily.” your lips are suddenly presses against his and a fury and he eagerly tried to match you. “fucking another man behind my back so cruel.” he whimpers as it feels like a dagger begins to dig into his chest, “im sorry im sorry.” he slurs against your lips messily as you begin to pull him back as you sit on the bed, staring up at him. “prove it.”

He drops down to his knees like he was born to, quickly throwing himself under your skirt and get a taste of you like hes been craving for weeks now. your hand grips the back of his head while he begins to lick at you through your underwear and you look at cregan who takes another chug from his bottle before placing it down and walking back over to the two of you. jacaerys pushes aside your underwear and moans into you as he gets a taste of you. you gasp and look down at jacaerys skirt over head as your free hand grips at the sheets below you. “fuck jace.”

as his lips wrap around your pearl he gasps into you as he feels a body press against him and hands wrap around his cock. “dont think im not gonna join in.” jacaerys heart pounds as he continues to messily eat at you while cregan rubs his hands all over his cock, coating his fingers in his precum before sliding him inside of jace. his back arches and the vibration of his moan has you throwing your head back while cregan works open his hole as hes done plenty of times now.

the pit continues to build in your stomach and you lock eyes with cregan who grins at you and you wipe some sweat off your face, “dont you look pretty?” “shut the fuck up cregan.” the man laughs as he continues to work his fingers inside of jace, “you look so pretty when you’re about to cum doesn’t see jace?” the man though he cant see you now knows the expression on your jace far too well and nods eagerly against you. once you do release jace eagerly licks up every drop before you rip his head away and cregan pulls his fingers out. jacaerys still without any sort of release grows desperate as tears stream down his face.

“im sorry im sorry ill be good i swear please just let me cum please please.” you lean back into the bed and stare at cregan with a mock pondering look, “hmm what do you think my lord you think hes been good enough?” cregan smirks while jacaerys looks up at him with a pleading look, “oh how can you deny this face? look at him.” cregan cups his face in his hands and brushes some of his tears away. you look at jacaerys fucked out face and pretend to ponder for a few more moments while jacaerys squirms in cregans arms before grinning. “fine, come on my love.”

jacaerys heart beams at your words finally calling him by the affectionate name you had given him and he rushes towards you, “undress us.” his hands greedily tug off your clothes stripping you both bare and you grab his face and kiss him lightly. “you know ill always accept you jace, no matter what.” the layered meaning of your words hits him like a truck and the tears continue to well in his eyes, “i do not deserve you.” you shake your head as you affectionately run your fingers through his hair, “if this is who you are i do not mind it. i am serious, the three of us can be together if you so wish. cregan will grow on me im sure.” “im still here you know.”

you lightly chuckle as jacaerys beams at you, “you are the most amazing person i have ever met.” cregan now as bare as the both of you walks towards you two and raises a brow, “am i atleast second place?” jacaerys turns his head towards him, “of course you are.” cregan softly smiles and leans to press a gentle kiss against his lips.

When the two of them pull away the lust returns and you greedily turn jacaerys towards you and pull him into a deep kiss, falling back with him on top of you, “fuck me jace.” he moans as he eagerly lines himself up and pushes into you, shoving his head into the side of your neck as he bottoms out. he begins to work himself into a gentle rhythm before he feel cregans cock press against his hole and he freezes as cregan works his way inside of jacaerys.

jacaerys has never felt so full. so content. with the two people he loves the most bringing him to the heights of pleasure. he hopes his days are like this for the rest of his life, with the two of you by his side. that night after you had left the study and made a mess around cregans room as well he listens to the two of you bicker in bed about the mess youve made in his father study and how his legacy has been tarnished, “is it not strange he has a bed in his study?” “my father spent most of his time in his study, how do you think i was made?” “yuck do not say those things.” “oh you were certainly not complaining as i was eating-“ “oh dont bring up old news stark.” that night jacaerys falls asleep with a big smile on his face your voices lulling him to sleep.

[mondaymelon]

first time in this account lol Idk if you're taking requests but I saw that post some minutes ago and... Idk, wanted to request something lol, if you didn't do it yet! What about headcanons with a reader who doesn't show physical attention until some years of knowing them? Like, they know each other for about 5 years and just then the reader decides to do some small act of physical affection... I wanted the headcanons to be with Childe, Arlecchino, Wanderer and Furina! If you can <3

₊˚ෆ 𝐈𝐅 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔… | childe, wanderer, arlecchino, furina x gn!reader

( childe's part might be a little ooc. havent done that part of the archon quest yet cries. also mwah arlecchino we love her in this household !! )

[ You were always someone who wasn’t fond of physical attention. Fleeting touches and kisses to the cheeks were never your forte, yet what should happen if the lover you’ve had for years is suddenly on the receiving end of such affections? ]

"physical affection... ah- it's okay if you can't show that to me, there's plenty of other ways to tell that you love me!"

CHILDE was the one to say those words to you, and the held the most certain truth. You were his lover, and a hug or two couldn't sway the fact! While the harbinger is quite the puppy and often yearns for your warmth, he'll respect your boundaries and allow you whatever. A lover like Childe places your happiness as a priority over his, wanting more to see your eyes sparkle than his own.

"Love, you wouldn't believe what happened in the courthouse today." You glance up from your spot where you're curled up on the couch, snuggled into a fluffy blanket and holding a warm drink in your hands, one of Inazuma's light novels sitting on the armrest. You hear the door to the two of you's home shut and lock, and listen to... Childe's footsteps. How strange, is he stumbling?

Glancing up, you internally gape at the cuts on his body, your eyes instantly drawn at the red splattered across his features. "'Taglia, what hap-"

He lets out a dry chuckle, grinning sheepishly as he rids his shoes at the door. "No worries, the blood isn't mine. Most of it, at least. I managed to get out of there in time, so all's well, yeah?"

As if that'd provide you any comfort. You narrow your eyes, glaring at him unyieldingly, until Childe has no choice but to force out another tasteless chuckle. "Come on now, I'm home, so let's do something fun instead of just being mad at me, 'kay?"

"Tartaglia."

The man flinches, his deep ocean eyes rounding. When you call him that and not his nickname, he knew that he had landed himself in deep shit. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry." He says that, but the sentence rounds up in a change of his tone, sounding almost suspiciously like a question. "It won't happen aga-"

The world itself seems to stop.

Your head is buried into his chest, arms wrapped around his waist. Archons, can you hear how fast his heart is beating? You've made him into a complete and utter mess. He's blushing, his ears practically on fire, and any thoughts once in his brain have been seared away in single second. It takes him to the count of three to remember how to breathe once more, his chest erratically heaving up and down as his shaking arms wrap around you hesitantly, wondering if it'd be okay to do so.

"...Love?"

"Mhm?"

"I- I thought you-"

"If it's with you, I'm okay."

Oh, how those words tug at his heart. You look so perfect in his arms - yes, you looked simply perfect all the time, he'd admit in a split-second. The messy nest of hair atop your head when you woke up in the early mornings, the dark bags under your eyes when you didn't sleep until late at night, your smile, your laugh, even your scowl. It silenced any effort to not fall in love with you.

A smile tugs at his lips. A bright one, a warm one, if that was even possible. Perhaps his eyes are shining with tears, or perhaps it was merely a trick of light, but he holds you all the closer, not wanting to let you go.

"Love, I... Archons, I don't think I'd be able to love anyone but you." ₊˚ෆ

"..great. i don't want your filthy hands on me anyways, so there shouldn't be a problem, hm?"

WANDERER's words were just that, would it kill him to be a little nicer? It didn't matter... you knew your lover well, or at least well enough to tell that what he said wasn't the complete truth.

Sure, you had seen him shrug off and make expressions of disgust directed towards particularly touchy people that he'd become somewhat acquainted with. And you most certainly had witnessed his frustrated outbursts and rants when he returned home to your shared abode, whining and grumbling about any trivial error someone had made - that is, brushing fingers with him while passing him papers. Something that couldn't exactly be avoided, yet he had glared at the wall for a good amount all the same.

Ah, but then there were moments when he thought you weren't looking, and that was when his eyes would drink you in. Grazing over your eyes, to your lips, then to your hands, where'd they linger on your fingers for perhaps longer than they should.

And you'd catch the times where you were inclined to say something flirtatious - words that were never all that flirtatious in the first place, Wanderer just happened to be unusually susceptible. Chin resting on your hand, eyes staring into his, you'd say something about how pretty he was, and then he'd just about go into neurogenic shock, likely not speaking to you the rest of the day, the tips of his ears, if one squinted to a certain extent, pink.

"Love." You glance up at him, a slight pout fixed on your lips. He'd been immersed in minor tasks, and those pesky things were what stole his attention away from you. An ironic twist of fate, as you were usually the one to be drowning in work, and he'd be the one practically begging for affection.

He hums, yet doesn't even bother to look at you.

"Do you want to go for a walk?"

"No."

"Go get something to eat?"

"No."

"Visit the... House of Daena?"

"No."

"Shall we feed the finches?"

A slight pause. "...No."

"Then... let's hold hands?"

He froze at your words, and it seemed that the male lost the function of inhaling, for he sat there unmoving for what seemed like hours, his expression petrified in its form of his large eyes, raised eyebrows, and mouth slightly ajar.

"...Excuse me?" It seemed that he doubted his own ears, for he set his work aside and fixed his focus upon you, fingers trembling just the slightest.

"Hmph, have you suddenly forgotten how to think?" You frowned, yet your eyes curved into crescents all the same, and Wanderer felt his breath hitch at how ethereal you were. The sly fox you were, you took his moment of shock, settling by his side and intertwining your fingers with his. "Like this, is it not?" You were smiling now, and for the first time you glimpsed the red on his ears, but now on his face too, a rosy red descending upon his cheeks.

"What's..." Perhaps you were right. His vocabulary had suddenly dwindled, and now he had nothing but questions - that, and the growing warmth in his chest. "What do you think you're doing right now?"

Whatever attempt he had to sound "mean" had failed. You knew him too well for that. "Holding hands, what else? Your hands are cold you know-" And at that he flinched. "But it feels nice."

D...Did it really?

"You, no... love, let's stay like this. You're... warm." ₊˚ෆ

"when you sought me, i thought it'd be a serious matter. there's no trouble in it, truly, so there's no need to look so dejected."

ARLECCHINO hadn't even batted an eye. Was there a reason to? Yes, this certainly crossed off any thought of romantic couple things like kissing and hand holding, but it wasn't like she'd gasp dramatically and fall to the ground, blaming you for setting boundaries-

As if she'd ever. Your imagination was running wild today, perhaps it was the lack of sleep finally catching up to you? It was a stark contrast compared to Arlecchino, who went days without rest, shuffling through paper after paper on her desk and constantly relaying messages to her subordinates. She was a hard worker - a trait most easily overlooked, but it was a point of adoration for you. A point among many. Arlecchino was an easy person to love, despite the bristling thorns she'd show at first glance.

"Darling, a cup of tea, please?" Her gaze flicked up from her work to you, a thin smile decorating her lips. It was more a less a habit the two of you established - that is, pouring her tea. Her favorite cup was the one you had gifted her when you first started your relationship, shaded in a dark hue and embellished with roses, their blooms, petals, and thorny branches spreading across the expanse of porcelain. You placed said cup on her desk with a breath of satisfaction, tilting you head in questioning at the unusual amount of papers on her desk.

"Arle, did something happen?"

She merely chuckled to herself, her eyes shining with delight. "Ah, why don't you wager a guess?" You were her "subordinate" of sorts, although your true association was far more intimate. You knew of her plans with Fontaine, and helped carry them out. She revered your loyalty, but your warmth far more.

"...Has the hydro gnosis been secured?"

She snapped her fingers in one swift motion, her small smile widening into a true one that played across her ruby lips. "Correct, I'd expect nothing less of someone as capable as my lover."

"Then, Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet..."

"They've done well." It'd be hard to forsake the note of pride in her voice. Setting down the sheets in her gloved hands, she stood from her seat slowly, letting her eyes scan over your body. "You've asked your question, now shall I ask mine? Darling, I did quite well myself, did I not?"

Her expectant gaze read one thing, but instead of the usual quality time spending the two of you'd share, this time, you had rather differing plans. Smiling, you walked up to her, not letting the way her eyes sparkled just the slightest escape your sight. Promptly, sneakily, you flung yourself upon her, beaming as your hands found refuge winding about her torso, nearly instantly trapping her into your death hug. "You did, Arle~!"

"..." At her silence, you glanced up, only to be met with a sight that drew blush upon your own cheeks. Her usually composed, mystery-shroud features were now conflicted with crossing emotions... of what, however, was rather indecipherable. Arlecchino was a person of many masks, yet now it seemed that her "mask" displayed but one thing - love.

"Darling, I... you look perfect in my arms, so shall we stay like this a moment longer?" ₊˚ෆ

"is that so? a trivial matter, is it by law that i must hold you in my arms in order to prove my love for you?"

FURINA's multicolored irises and teardrop pupils twinkled, their shine dancing on the moonlit breeze. A hand daintily held a teacup, its fragrant contents swirling about the porcelain basin. Her laugh accompanied the cool evening wind, and she fluttered her eyes shut in a smile that brightened her expression. "Come now, why so shocked? Wouldn't this be expected from someone as benevolent as I?"

It was a scene that would remain forever painted in your mind, like a beautiful mural that one's eyes could not possibly forsake. The way her mouth tugged upwards and the manner in which her eyes curv-

"Hey, are you even listening to me right now?" A familiar voice tugged you out of your reminiscence of the confrontation months prior. Furina displayed a childish frown on her lips, her partly furrowed eyes sharpening her gaze into a rather particular one.

Oh, lost in thought once more. You let out a soft sigh, nodding sheepishly. "Yes, love, I am.."

"Mhm..." Your words left a no, you clearly aren't!" Furina sat up, her intensifying discontentment apparent on her features. "I said I got you access to front ticket seats to the hottest new court case! You know, the one involving the robbery... the one that's quite literally got the entire Steambird in a chokehold? Yet, you're not excited in the slightest!?" She sounded offended, and she likely was, for her cheeks were flushed the slightest in rash frustration and her narrowed eyes creased at their corners. "Appreciate my efforts, why don't you?"

"Appreciate" indeed.

Ah, but was a sudden, tight embrace overshooting it? For she tensed in your arms, her frame absolutely suspended in your hold, her slack jaw giving the slightest tremor. "Mon amour, just w-what are you-?"

"Come now, Furina, am I not permitted to hug my own lover now?" The jesting in your voice faded as the sarcastic grin on your face formed a smaller, more genuine one. "I'm... ah, I'm okay, if it's with you. I'll be okay."

She paused at your words, contemplation of them flashing in her gaze, and let out a gratified exhale. "Then..." she nearly melted in your embrace, leaning her head into your arms compliantly.

"Don't you dare think I've forgotten about your previous transgression, but... ah, it can be forgiven, can't it, mon amour?" ₊˚ෆ

(a/n) hc hc hc hc furina calls youfrench petnames because french oui oui baguette.. AHEM my sincerest apologies to any french or french speakers...

REBLOGS APPRECIATED!! please consider following me as i amm soosososoo close to a follower goal ive been wanting to reach and itd be crazy if i could reach it before christmas!!!

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader

-> teehee what if yall left a message on my christmas tree 😶😶😶

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can you do angst of ford x reader, where reader was Fords assistant and instead of Stanley pushing ford in, reader does while being possessed by bill.

Stanley is still there and they work hard to repair the portal but when Ford does get back he's really upset at reader because he still thinks that they themselves pushed him in and betrayed him. Ford won't let reader explain themselves, he just tells them to "get out his house"

Part 2 is right here

You didn’t want this.

Then again you weren’t the one to push him, Bill was after tricking you into making a deal with him. You should’ve known better than to put any amount of trust in that chaotic dream demon.

You screamed and shouted for either Ford or Stanley to notice the weirdness in your behaviour, the weirdly inhuman smile that spread across your face, anything as you were forced to watch yourself shove Ford into the portal.

‘BILL!’ You screamed but the demon possessing you acted as though he couldn’t hear you as he relinquished control of your body and let you back in it, just so that the last thing you saw of your dear friend was the look of betrayal upon his face as he disappeared into the portal forever.

‘FORD! No! IM SORRY! IM SO SORRY! IT WASNT ME!’ But Ford couldn’t hear you. He was gone thanks to bill you and you knew they no one would ever believe if you were to tell anyone that a demon did the deed. All they saw was what looked like you but not you in any other aspect that counted; However the fact that you were seen doing the crime was enough to fuel their biases against you regardless, fuelled but their needed to be right in everything, and it was difficult to change a persons mind once it’s made up.

‘It wasn’t me…’ you softly murmured to yourself as you collapsed on the floor of the laboratory as a seething Stanley stood behind you.

‘You pushed my brother.’ He snarled. ‘I saw you.’

You only stayed silent, it was better the beer the brunt of the blame then look like a madman trying to plead as to why they wasn’t true, and besides he wouldn’t believe you even if you did manage to make Bill confess before an audience that he had been the one to push Ford while possessed as you. The demonic bastard was far gone now, cackling at the ridicule you were receiving for his actions.

Stanley, not liking that you were silent, pulled you to face him by the collar of your shirt but before he could berate you further, he caught sight of your defeated face and tear stricken cheeks. ‘Go on, blame me because you would be believe me if I were to tell the truth.’ You said with a voice void of emotion. ‘Blame me all you want but I’m the only person who can help you get the portal up and running again. I’m willing to do so but not for you, but for Ford and in hopes of explaining myself to him and pray that he believes me.’ You add and without warning Stanley drops you on your arse and says in a voice equally devoid of emotion;

‘He’ll never believe you, he’s not that stupid.’

And after that interaction you and Stanley spent the next thirty years of your lives together rebuilding the portal, while Stan still blamed you for pushing his brother into the portal, he’s become more lenient as and when he would remind you of the reason you were doing this in the first place; more specifically during arguments after failed test runs of getting the portal open where he’d say to you in the best of the moment:

‘If it wasn’t for you my brother would still be here!’ Before storming upstairs while you remained in the lab, wasting away the midnight oil because you didn’t believe you deserved sleep after all that. You had grown numb to being Stan’s verbal punching bag, and would often times ignore his attempts to forget what happened and make peace with you, for you knew it wasn’t genuine because after you get his brother back you were more then likely to be kicked out of the shack for you had served your purpose for your crime.

So the relationship between yourself and Stan was never good and you tended to only act civil in the presence of Dipper and Mabel, two kids whom you have grown rather fond of during their stay. You remembered the first night they came here and were in high debate on whether they should stay with Stan or leave, you were quick to intervene and said;

‘Your Grunkle Stan is a wonderful man with a big heart despite his rough exterior. So please give him a chance instead of letting first impressions sway your thinking, you’ll be surprised as a result if you do and besides life is meant to be lived without regrets.’

You were literally the reason they decided to give Stan a chance and stay, but you knew you were never going to get that thank you from him, you were the person who pushed his brother into the portal remember? So you just carried on building the portal with him in awkward silence until the day finally came.

The day that Ford came home.

The day should’ve made you happy, ecstatic even but you knew that wouldn’t be the case for you as the moment Ford came out of the portal your blood ran cold.

He was glaring.

He was glaring at you with such a silent rage that you swore that you could’ve been killed by a state like that. But it was also a stare that told you of the damage your betrayal had caused him, he would never forgive you and that was your biggest fear this entire time, a fear that Stan knew and now it was proven true.

‘Ford-‘

‘Stop.’ He told you, breaking your heart. ‘I don’t want to hear your excuse.’

‘But-‘ you tried again.

‘I said no!’ Ford roared as everyone held their breath, even Stanley who had never heard his brother shout, in that moment he actually felt some remorse for you, some.

‘You’re the reason I was trapped in that portal for THRITY YEARS!’ Dipper and Mabel gasped as they too were now looking at you with hurt in their eyes, which made tears appear in the corner of your own.

‘Is it true Grunkle/graunt y/n?’ Mabel asked as dipper glared at you while keeping his sister as far away from you as he could.

‘No Mabel I-‘ you tried to take a step towards her but Ford was quick to cut you off and level you with a glare. ‘Stay away from my grand niece and nephew.’ He growled and you knew there was no point looking back at Stanley, who had kept uncharacteristically quite this entire time.

‘It’s wasn’t me-‘

‘Then who was it who pushed me then y/n?’ Ford asked.

You remained as silent as the day you let Stanley accused you of the same thing. There was no point in making your case when everyone’s minds have been made up, you were the monster in their story and now they were going to be rid of you once and for all.

‘Who?’ Ford asked again as he seethed, his eyes searching your dead ones for answers that have been in his mind for the past thirty years. You were his friend, he thought he could trust you but he guessed wrong, and now he couldn’t look you in the eyes without seeing the very person who shoved him in the portal with a sicken smile across their face.

Ford couldn’t trust you in the presence of Dipper and Mabel, no one was safe with you as far as he was concerned and he wanted to keep his family safe, even if it meant being rid of you once and for all.

When you didn’t say anything to save yourself, Ford points upwards. ‘Get out of my house, I don’t want to see you ever again. You’ve already done enough damage to this family as there is.’

You didn’t have the energy nor fight left in you to scream, shout or anything, you just swallowed the lump in your throat and moved out of the lab as Mabel and Stanley looked at you sympathetically; whereas Ford and dipper only glared at your retreating back.

‘Grunkle/ graunt y/n?’ Mabel called out to you weakly. You only shot her a small smile and mouthed ‘I’m sorry.’ She was always your favourite twin but it was time to say good bye and without another word, you pulled off the bracelet that Mable had made for you and threw it on the floor in front of her.

Mabel looked at the bracelet, then back up at you. ‘I made this for you.’ She tells you with tears in her eyes.

‘You deserve better than to put your trust in me my sweet shooting star, I’m a monster in your grunkles eyes,’ you shot a look towards Stan and Ford who were still staring before looking back at Mable, ‘It’s best that you start seeing me that way too because I only cause pain apparently to some.’ You replied and with that you left the shack and the pines family behind, venturing off into the pathway through the woods with nothing but a hole where you here should’ve been.

There was no point fighting your case to Ford, he wasn’t going to hear it, for he was no batter than everyone else and he just pointed the finger at you without second thought. So much for him being unique when he was just like the rest of them, so much like the rest of them that you find it almost laughable.

You’ll gladly stay out of his life, for whatever Stanford pines wished for, you’ll happily oblige as you were only ever the assistant that betrayed him in the end; a traitor.

[luveline]

Hii, I absolutely love your Hotch fics in which he meets his adult daughter. Could we get one in which she is feeling down about something and he helps/reassures her?💕💕

It’s difficult to foster a relationship with someone when you don’t get to see them. Even harder when the relationship is with your father who didn’t know you existed for over two decades, and who works as a Special Agent in the FBI, spending half of his life in other states. 

Lately it feels impossible. 

He’s just never home. When he is, he can't make it to dinner. You start to feel exactly as you had before you knew him, alone again, working hard to keep up in class, drained from your part time job, and always tired. 

You should stay home and sleep, but tonight, your dad is free for dinner. 

You wait on the corner of the street in the golden light of the restaurant. It’s chilly out, and the sky is slowly darkening. You watch the road for the shape and bulk of Aaron’s SUV, relieved to see him on the way past. He parks in the parking lot, making a small stop into the trunk of the car before he makes his way toward you. 

He’s carrying a little white teddy bear wrapped in pink heart cellophane. 

You know it’s for you, but it’s still sweet enough to surprise you when he smiles at you and encourages it into your hands. “Hello,” he says, wrapping one arm around you quickly as he kisses your cheek. 

It’s always a shock, but never unwelcome. 

“Hi, Aaron.” 

“Let’s go in, yes?” he asks. “It’s too cold to stay out here. Were you waiting a long time?” 

You let him walk you to the entrance, where he gives his name to the hostess for the reservation, and together you follow her to a small table near a bay window. The trees outside are strung with tea lights. The restaurant smells like nutty chocolate ganache. You mentioned that you liked the desserts here the first time he brought you, and he’s continued to bring you here ever since. 

You are undoubtedly getting to know one another. You’ve met Haley three times, and Jack five. You had dinner together only two weeks ago where he tried to show you how to keep spaghetti on your fork while failing to manage it himself. He was sweet, and Aaron was really good with him. 

You’d been jealous. 

“What’s the bear for?” you ask. 

“I’m trying to buy your forgiveness. Is it working?” 

You laugh without thinking. “My forgiveness?” 

“Sometimes, when I don’t see Jack for a long time, he gets frosty with me. I know it’s poor parenting but I’ll bring home a souvenir in the hopes he won’t stay mad.” 

“This is a souvenir?” you ask. 

He sits with good posture, but his face is ducked apologetically. It’s a kind sort of look, like he really is sorry. “I think I owe you more than that.” 

This regret he’s expressed before. You truly believe that he wishes he could go back in time and be there for you, which might be why it aches to think about it in detail. He wanted to be the loving, doting father. He just didn’t get the chance. 

“It sort of… breaks my heart sometimes, when I see you,” you say. 

It’s a lot. You haven’t even ordered your drinks. 

“It does?” he asks gently. 

“I wish…” You bite the inside of your cheek. Shake your head when you can’t finish. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I think about it a lot. I resent your mother.” 

She’s your mother, but yes. “I do, too.” 

You listen to the clatter of the kitchen somewhere deep in the building and the indistinguishable chatter of other families and dates where they sit around you. Your hand closes tightly on a napkin. 

“Are you okay? You look tired, honey.” 

“Must be a Hotchner thing,” you say. 

He laughs like you haven’t just slighted him. “It definitely is. I’m getting the sense that you’re upset about more than your mother, though.” 

“How would you know?” you ask genuinely. 

It’s his party trick. You’re expecting a rundown: your hand moves a quarter inch to the left and shows your upset, or your nose twitches to betray your true feelings. But he doesn’t need to use his special set of agent skills on you tonight. 

“You won’t look at me for very long. It’s exactly like your brother.” 

You sniff ineffectually. “It is?” 

He looks especially solemn, then. “I wish we didn’t miss out on so much with each other, but I’m here now, if you want me. You can tell me what’s bothering you. I promise I’ll listen.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’ve always heard worse.” He manages a smile. “Not that what you’re feeling isn’t important.” 

“Well, I… it’s mostly the little things. You know school is hard.” 

“At GWU? It’s gruelling.” 

“It’s awful. I probably need a tutor.” You laugh. “Maybe. It’s not so bad, and once this year is over, I’m done, but I have my internship lined up for the summer, so I’m trying very hard to– to work as much as I can now. But working and studying all the time makes me tired.” Your cheeks heat at having spilled it all without finesse. “Sorry, I know you work twenty three hours a day.” 

“How many hours are you working a week?” he asks. 

“Uh, usually twenty-four. I try to do three shifts a week. Sometimes they want me after school, so it’s more like twenty-nine or thirty-four.” Or forty-four.

“And you’re studying–”

“Every spare minute.” 

He nods thoughtfully. “I’m sorry. It sounds hard…” 

“What?” you ask. 

“I’m just thinking about something.” He licks his lips. “And you’ve always worked? Since high school?” 

Your flush worsens. “Yeah. I have to pay for school somehow, and to eat.” You quieten. 

“What if you didn’t have to work, honey?” 

You shake your head vehemently. “Aaron.” 

“I’m serious. What if you didn’t have to do so much? You need time to do nothing. Overworking yourself will give you an ulcer, trust me, and that’s the last thing I want. I could–”

“I can’t take your money–”

“It’s not just my money. Does Jack ‘take’ my money?” 

“You signed up for Jack–”

“And I’m signed up for you. I want to be here for you, and this is what father’s do, okay? If they can, and I can.” 

“Unnecessary brag.” 

He ignores your joke. “Even if I could just pay for GWU. I know those textbooks are burning a hole in your pocket.” 

You refuse. Aaron promises to return to the subject when you aren’t exhausted, and maybe you’ll let him. It would be beautiful to wake up on a Saturday with nothing to do. 

It would be nice not to miss your dad. You’ve done it your whole life, but now he’s real, and he seems to really care about you. When he hugs you after he’s paid for dinner, you want to be allowed to cling, and, as he tightens his hold, you realise you are. 

“It’s so good to see you,” he says, rubbing your upper arm. 

“Yeah,” you mumble. 

“Can I see you tomorrow?” 

You ease back. “Really?” Because you hadn’t mentioned that you missed him, but he already knows.

He pats your arm. “You know I’d see you every day, if I could? I’ve missed out on enough already. We’ll take Jack to Olive Garden again and you can think a bit more on what I proposed.” 

“I can’t take your money,” you repeat quietly. 

“Not that, though you should. You can tell me anything, okay?” 

You breathe out as he steps away. “Okay.” 

He touches your cheek briefly. “Okay. I’m proud of you. You’re doing great.” 

“Thanks, Aaron.” 

“You’re welcome. Text me when you get home safe, all right?” 

You look at him for too long. “Thank you,” you say again, moving in for another hug. 

He props his head atop yours carefully. “You’re welcome, honey.” 

[storiesforallfandoms]

kneel ~ loki laufeyson;mcu

word count: 3541

request?: no

description: after finally being fed up with loki’s pranks, she finds out something about her friend’s little brother, something that intrigues her greatly

pairing: loki laufeyson x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut (masturbation, oral - f receiving, unprotected p in v)

masterlist (one, two, three)

I had known Thor since we were both kids, and that meant I had known Loki just as long. Loki was always Thor’s annoying little brother who lived up to his “God of Mischief” title a little too much. He had always loved to pull pranks on Thor and his friends, and he was the only one who enjoyed any of those pranks.

They started when we were kids - small, innocent pranks that were annoying, but not terrible. It was when they continued into our teenage and young adult years that they became a problem.

It was no use talking to Thor about it. He loved his little brother too much, even if he didn’t like the pranks either. He’d always just say, “He is the God of Mischief. It is just within his nature.”

I was pushed to the edge one day when I returned to my quarters to find a surprise waiting for me in my bed. Everyone knew of my fear of snakes. This information had unfortunately reached Loki as well. I had been waiting for him to use that information against me, but eventually I managed to forget he even knew. Until I got back to my quarters, kicked off my boots, and pulled back the covers to flop onto my bed, only to find it was full of snakes.

I shrieked and fell flat onto my ass. My heart was pounding as one of the snakes stretched its body out to put its face in mine. My fear was quickly replaced by anger as I realized exactly who put them there. I got to my feet and stormed out the door.

Loki was in the palace garden by himself. He was lucky I didn’t have any of my weapons, even though I could do just as much damage without them. I stormed up to him and, when he turned to face me, I swung. My fist connected with his cheek, knocking him to the ground. He had the audacity to look up at me in shock as he cupped his cheek.

“I have had enough of your bullshit, Loki!” I sneered. “Your tricks are going too far. Now you will pay!”

He tried to stutter something out, but I cut him off with a kick to the gut. I heard him wheeze as he fell onto his back, clutching his stomach. I knew I’d be in huge trouble if anyone were to catch us. Whether I was Thor’s friend or not didn’t matter when I was beating the shit out of the Asgardian prince. But I was far from caring at that point.

I drew back my leg and kicked him again, sending him rolling across the ground again. He quickly scrambled to his knees, holding his hands up to stop my assaults.

“I’m sorry!” he said. “I’m sorry. The snakes were too far, you’re right.”

“Why should I accept your apology?” I asked. “Nothing has ever stopped you before. Why should I believe you won’t put more snakes in my quarters once I’ve forgotten about this?”

“Please, I promise you I will never pull any pranks on you ever again. I have learned my lesson. You have my word on that.”

His word often meant nothing. He was the trickster god after all. I wouldn’t trust his word as far as I could throw him.

But there was something about the way he looked right now; on his knees, looking up at me with his big, blue eyes, his chest rising and falling with every panted breath as he tried to recover from my attack. His words were lost as I just looked at him. The thoughts that started to fill my mind were not ones I would’ve ever thought I could have about Loki.

When I realized what I was thinking, I quickly snapped out of my trance wans said, “I believe you” before turning to rush back to my quarters.

I closed my door and leaned back against it. I had completely forgotten about the creatures Loki had left in my bed, but now they were gone. I guess he had used his magic to get rid of them sometime between my attack and hasty departure. I tried to channel that anger back as I was reminded of what sent me to Loki to begin with, but my mind was now clouded with the image of Loki on his knees.

I decided to get a quick, cold shower to try and cool myself down, but it only made things worse. As the cold water cascaded over my body, I found myself envisioning that I wasn’t alone. As my hands moved over my body, I found myself imagining they were Loki’s hands. Soapy hands running over my arms, my shoulders, cupping my breasts. I let out a moan as I squeezed them, imagining Loki stood behind me, his lips on my neck as his hands toyed with me.

I gasped as I came to my sense. What is wrong with me?!

The minute the water shut off, my body felt hot to the touch again. The thought alone of having to put clothes back on made me feel claustrophobic, so I decided just to slip under the covers. my mind was still playing images I desperately wished would stop. Every time I closed my eyes, all I saw was Loki. It’s not like I hadn’t noticed Loki like that before. When the two of us were going through puberty and starting to “notice” the opposite sex more, I saw how handsome he had become. But even then I never thought of him like this.

There was a dull ache between my legs that was starting to become too much to ignore. Maybe...maybe I just take care of it and these thoughts will finally go away.

I let one hand move down my body again, skimming over my breasts and stomach until I reached the heat between my legs. I gasped as I applied light pressure to my clit. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to picture Loki. I imagined him on his knees again, his blue eyes watching me as I stand over him. I pictured him pulling me closer and his lips teasing the host skin of my lower stomach. I whimpered as I applied more pressure to the circles I was rubbing on my clit. In my imagination, Loki was lifting my leg over his shoulder to get better access to my dripping pussy.

Before I could stop myself, Loki’s name slipped from my lips followed by a string of moans. Despite the fact that my brain was too lust clouded to really think about it, I knew I had no reason to stop myself from saying his name while I pleasured myself. The walls were essentially soundproof, so no one was going to hear who I was fantasizing about.

Or so I thought anyways.

Because as I came closer and closer to the edge, I heard a noise in my room. When I opened my eyes, I saw that I was not alone.

Loki was stood there, looking at me with wide eyes and pink tinted cheeks.

I screamed and sat up. The blanket fell to my lap, so I collected it again and used it to cover my bare body.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” I snapped. “How did you get in?!”

“I-I came in while you were in the shower,” he responded. “I...I was trying to scare you as payback for what happened in the garden, but when you came out naked and didn’t get dressed...”

He trailed off, his face growing redder by the second. I wondered at first how much he had seen, but if he was saying he had been here since I was in the shower, that meant he had seen everything. He had seen me naked, seen me touching myself, heard me moaning his name.

It was my turn for my face to burn with embarrassment. I turned away quickly so he couldn’t see my expression.

“Do you often think of me when you’re in here at night getting yourself off?”

I tried to scowl at him for even asking such a stupid question, but when my eyes met his I saw that he was no longer embarrassed. Instead, there seemed to be a hint of mischief in those blue eyes. And not the kind where he was about to cause some sort of annoying trouble. No, this was lust.

“No,” I told him. “I’ve never thought of you like this. It’s just...for some reason...after seeing you on yours knees in the garden...”

He chuckled. “Oh, you want to see me on my knees then, is that it?”

I could feel the heat growing between my legs again. Loki approached me, pausing a moment to see if I was going to tell him to leave. I knew I should’ve, but I really did not want to. I was curious to see where he was going with this, and if it meant he was going to give me the release I dearly needed...well, there was no harm in that, was there?

When I didn’t give any indication that I wanted him to leave, he extended a hand to me. I took it and he gently pulled me from my bed so I was standing in front of him. He was always taller than me, but I never truly noticed it until this moment, looking up at him and waiting for him to make some sort of move. He held eye contact with me as he slowly lowered himself to his knees in front of me.

“What was it I was doing in your fantasy?” he asked.

“Y-You were using your m-mouth on me,” I stuttered out.

“Like this?” he asked before leaning forward to press a kiss to my stomach - just like in my fantasy.

“Y-Yes,” I said. “But also...lower.”

“How much lower?”

“I think you know.”

He chuckled again. “I do, but I want to hear you say it.”

“You were kissing me on my pussy before you so rudely interrupted my fantasy.”

I gasped as he lightly bit at the soft skin on my stomach. “So naughty, even when you have me on my knees wanting to give you exactly what you were thinking about. Although, I suppose I did so rudely interrupt you while you were trying to get yourself off. I should try to make that up to you.”

He took my leg and lifted it over his shoulder. I reached behind me and used the nearest object - my nightstand - to steady myself as Loki immediately dove his tongue into my folds. I gasped, which turned into a moan. It felt even better than I ever could’ve imagined. Actually, I don’t think anything I could’ve imagined would ever live up to this. I had never had anyone go down on me, although I had done the same to plenty of my partners in the past. The feeling made me so lightheaded so quickly that I felt like I was floating.

While keeping one hand on my nightstand (because I was sure if I stopped holding it I would’ve toppled over), I ran my other through Loki’s long hair. Growing up, I had often teased him about wanting to keep his hair long because I told him it would just get in the way during battle. But now, I was glad he had never taken any of my words to heart. His long, black locks were the perfect thing to grab hold of and use to direct him as he devoured me. At one point, as his tongue ran from the tip of my clit all the way down to my pussy, I involuntarily pulled on his hair a little harder than I meant to. His response was to moan, not taking his mouth from me, sending a shiver all throughout my body.

He was watching me. Never once did his eyes leave me as he made me come undone just with his tongue. I tried to keep eye contact, but my eyes kept closing or my head would lull back in pleasure. I wanted this to last as long as possible, but I found myself nearing the edge quickly. I tried to pull Loki away, but he attached himself to me.

“Wait,” I breathed. “I-I’m gonna...”

“Cum in my mouth,” he told me before placing his mouth around my clit again and running his tongue over it.

It was enough to finally push me over the edge. I cried out in pleasure as I felt his tongue run down to my pussy to collect the juices running from it. My legs began to tremble and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stand up for much longer. As if reading my mind, Loki’s hands raised up to hold onto my hips as he had a few last laps. When he finally managed to pull himself from me, I could see that his lips were glistening from me. It was enough to almost turn me on again.

He got to his feet again and kissed me. I could taste myself on his lips. He slowly backed me up until I was falling back onto my bed. He followed me down, crawling on top of me so that his legs were straddling my hips. His mouth was on mine again, still hungry as if he hadn’t just eaten me like a man who hadn’t had food in years.

I reached between us to try and undo his pants, but he quickly moved his hand to capture my wrist. I jumped at the sudden contact.

“Do you not want to go further?” I asked. “I’ll respect your wishes if not, but you’re giving me very mixed signals if that’s the case.”

He shook his head. “No, I want to go further. You have no idea how badly I need to be inside of you right now. It’s just...”

He didn’t have to finish his sentence for me to understand what he meant.

“There’s a lady in town who gives out contraceptives to the maidens in town,” I told him. “She said that on Midgard they call it ‘birth control’, but other realms are starting to take note of it to try and control their populations.”

“So...if we were to go through with this, there’s no risk of us producing an offspring?”

For some reason, the way he phrased it made me giggle as I shook my head. “No. There will be no little Lokis running around the castle.”

In a flash, his lips were on mine again. He didn’t stop me when I reached between us this time. I unbuttoned his pants and tried to pull them down without breaking the kiss. Unfortunately, it was not as easy as I would have wanted it to be and we eventually had to break away so Loki could undress himself. I watched, impatiently, as he pulled his shirt over his head first, then agonizingly slowly removed his pants and boxers. I couldn’t help but stare as his cock sprang free from their confinements. I had never really thought about the size of Loki’s dick, but I was pleasantly surprised to see what he was packing.

He climbed over me again, kissing me deeply as he lined himself up with entrance. I was still wet enough from my first orgasm that he was able to run the head of his dick through my folds and collect enough wetness that he could push himself into me with ease. He filled me slowly, letting me adjust to every inch of his length until he was buried to the hilt inside of me. I felt so full that I almost never wanted him to pull out of me.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “If anything hurts I’ll stop.”

“You are hardly the first lover I’ve had, Loki,” I told him. “I’ve done this before, you aren’t going to hurt me.”

He grinned down at me. “My, my, Thor’s virtuous best friend allowing herself to be defiled?”

“I’m hardly virtuous. Even Thor knows that. He just never wants to heard of my escapades.”

“I don’t think I want to hear of them either.” Before I could respond, he pulled out until it was just the head of his dick inside of me, before thrusting all the way in again. The words fizzled in my throat and became moans instead. “I don’t want to think of anyone else defiling you. Not in the past, and not in the future. If we are crossing this boundary tonight, then I want you to be mine. No other person in all of Asgard or any other realm can have you, do you understand?”

I nodded.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“Gods, Loki, I’m yours! I promise, I will not let anyone else have me. I’m yours and yours alone, I swear.”

I could feel his smirk against my neck as he began to kiss me. “Say it one more time. I like hearing it.”

“I’m yours, Loki. All of me is yours.”

With every thrust inwards he was hitting spots that I didn’t even know could exist within me. He kissed wherever his lips could reach, and what they couldn’t reach he touched with his hands instead. He continued to whisper sweet nothings into my ear as he fucked me like it was his life’s purpose. I wasn’t sure if he actually meant that he wanted me to be his or if it was just the lust of the moment taking over, but I was starting to hope he really meant it. I couldn’t imagine being with anyone else after this. He was ruining me with every thrust, every caress, every kiss.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “I’m getting close.”

“Please cum in me,” I said. If I was in my right mind I might’ve been embarrassed to beg, but there was one thing I wanted right now and I wasn’t afraid to voice that.

“Is that what you want, pet?” he asked. “Do you want me to fill you up? To really claim you as mine?”

I nodded quickly, unable to form any other words. I wrapped my legs around his waist, which caused him to chuckle. “Alright, I’ll give you exactly what you want then.”

I could feel him twitching inside of me, and within a matter of seconds he was spilling into me. He buried his head into my shoulder, his groans muffled against my skin. My hands were gripping at his back so hard that I was sure there were going to be imprints of my nails left in his skin. I looked up at the ceiling of my quarters, but all I could see were stars.

We laid together for what felt like hours. I didn’t want this to end, but I feared that once Loki had come down from his high that he would regret everything he had said. I knew I probably was supposed to feel the same way, he was Thor’s little brother after all. I shouldn’t think of him as a partner or a lover. And yet, I was dreading the moment he pulled out of me and looked at me with regret. Or worse yet, that he would leave without even so much as a glance in my direction and forget this ever happened.

To my surprise, when Loki finally did pull himself from me, he held me with one arm and moved the blankets back so we could both slip under them. He pulled me to him, resting my head on his chest, and reached over to turn off the light on my nightstand.

“You’re staying, then?” I asked. It came out soft and hopeful.

“Did you want me to leave?” he asked.

“No,” I said quickly.

“Then I’ll stay.”

“You don’t...regret what just happened?”

“Do you?”

“Do you always have to answer a question with a question?”

His chest vibrated beneath my cheek as he laughed. “Well, considering the questions you’re asking, I feel the need to make sure that isn’t how you’re feeling.”

“It’s not,” I confirmed. “I want you to stay, and I don’t regret what just happened. If anything, I’m very glad it happened. I don’t think I’ve felt that good during sex in a long time.”

“Then you were having sex with the wrong people.”

“Evidently so.”

He squeezed me gently and kissed my forehead. I felt the touch run through my entire body, from the place he kissed on my head all the way down to my toes.

“I meant what I said. About you being mine,” he said. “I’m not one to engage in meaningless sex. If that’s all you wanted, then I would leave and forget it ever happened. But, I don’t intend to let you go that easily.”

“I don’t intend to be let go.”

“Good.” He kissed me again. I couldn’t fight back the smile that tugged at my lips. “Go to sleep. We can talk about this more in the morning.”

I nodded and settled against his chest. “Goodnight Loki.”

“Goodnight, love.”

[ghcstao3]

haha wow guys…. can’t believe you’re making me write a part two of this…… haha ok if you insist….

-

the sting of soap’s disappointment following the most recent assassination attempt is shortly resolved when only a week later, as he reads in the candlelight, he feels the cool press of a blade gentle against his throat.

he’s smiling before he can stop himself. there could only be one person silent enough to manage such a trick.

“back so soon?” he asks the shadow. he closes his book, careful to keep still. the blade wasn’t meant to hurt unless he moved.

a low hum. “thought i might catch you off guard the second time.”

“sorry to disappoint.” soap feels the pressure disappear, and slumps back in his seat. he lolls his head back to peer up at the assassin, who looms over him, staring with that same dark, piercing gaze.

“don’t worry,” the assassin consoles. “you could never disappoint, your majesty.”

soap laughs. “isn’t it too early to be making assumptions like that? we’ve hardly met.”

a gloved hand, still partially curves around the hilt of a blade, draws a line across soap’s jaw. a gentle caress, met by the bitter kiss of cold steel as his assassin shifts his hold.

“that’s all i need,” the assassin teases. “you’re an easy read.”

soap scoffs, letting his head fall back forward. the assassin makes his steps audible as he backs away.

“well, at least give me a name before you disappear again,” he pleads. “so i know whose title might leave my lips when you inevitably succeed.”

a pensive silence, consideration that soap should not be allowing such a man.

“ghost,” he finally offers.

“ghost,” soap echoes, almost wistfully. he isn’t surprised, when he turns in his chair and sees that ghost is gone yet again.

soap sighs, though his disappointment this time is brief. a second visit is no coincidence—something tells him ghost would most certainly return.

and the prince already finds himself anticipating that very moment.

[usedpidemo]

More than you know (Nmixx Haewon)

“Miss Haewon, please see me after class hours later. I would like to talk to you.”

There it is. A rather predictable bookend to another dull lecture. She saw it coming from the moment she walked into the classroom. 

She absolutely loathes hearing it. 

Despite the comically indignant scowl she shoots you on the way out—and the mocking jeers from her friends that elicit embarrassment—by the time the final bell rings, she couldn’t wait to see you later on.

You’re excited, too—but for all the wrong reasons. 

She’s the only thing keeping your passion for teaching alive.

—————

For the record, Haewon is not a bad student, not in the slightest. If anything, she’s par for the course. She’s not gonna be some summa cum laude, but she isn’t a sorry case, either. And that’s been the pattern with your students for years. They only care enough just to get by. Haewon is the most clear-cut example you can refer to.

Based on the rather intriguing stares she shoots at you, you’d be tricked into believing she’s actually interested enough in improving her future performance in class. Peeking through the laptop, catching glimpses of everyone’s grades. Her name is highlighted on the document, and the scores consist primarily of mid-eighties with some low-nineties. Clearly she’s nowhere close to a flunk or a future dropout. 

Better than the high seventies and low eighties that the rest of your class averages.

“Sir, how many times do we need to go over this. I’m doing well for myself,” she remarks, giving you a look that says I told you so. The evidence is right in front of you, written in bold. “C’mon sir. Just let me go early today.”

And that’s when you make your first of many mistakes—feeding her the attention she craves. Where’s this energy when it comes to your lectures, you wonder?

Before you even entertain the thought, the scene has already gone completely sideways. Here’s a student with zero regard for following rules, and you’ve experienced your fair share of troublemakers. She’s sitting on the desk, pale skin in plain view from the off shoulder cropped sweatshirt that barely qualifies for the dress code. You’re looking—and she’s keenly noticing. 

“Maybe another time, sir?” Haewon reads your mind like an open book. She’s purposely dressing improperly for two reasons: to piss off the higher-ups who hate her guts, and to make it easier for you to rip through her clothes. “I’ve got dance practice with the theater girls and I’m running late.”

“Well for one, you can drop the honorifics,” you reply, plainly, in a particularly weak effort to change the conversation. The attention you give her is short-lived; your focus returns to the unanswered emails and grades you need to fill. “Class hours are done for the day.”

It’s evidently not the response she wanted, because her arms are crossed and she’s pouting. You have to admit, she looks cute acting like that, revealing clothes be damned.

“Sir.” Haewon drawls out into a groan, bothered by the monotony of waiting when she has places to be. She won’t go as far as to knock your laptop down, but she’s considering it as a last resort. “You’re being a bitch right now.”

Anyone else in her position would get it—a verbal lashing that would get your teaching license rescinded and take you to court, but Haewon is the epitome of getting away with murder. You have no idea how she does it—how she manages to escape mostly unscathed from punishment. Even now while you drum on the keyboard, because you’re allowing her to call you a bitch without consequence. 

Maybe because you like her more than you would openly admit.

She sighs. It’s a defeatist tone. A few moments later, you close your laptop and she perks up.

“Take a seat. I do want to talk to you about something important,” you tell her, knowing one hundred percent certain she’s not getting off your desk. 

Haewon can’t help herself to a snarky comment. “Damn. Finally.”

By every conceivable account, this should be awkward, if not outright wrong. She’s still an undergrad, you tell yourself, staring into her sharp, alluring eyes. For as rebellious and as unruly as Haewon acts, she still listens to you. Hell, you’re the only professor she bothers to attend classes regularly for. She’d tell you she cares in her own twisted way. Look at how she dresses, for one. Your thoughts consist of mainly her in some cumbersome position, her lips letting out these desperate, heavy gasps. Your hands squeezing her taut breasts; the way her shirt accentuates the curves of her chest drives your imagination wild. You can spend all day planning how you intend to fuck her—

“Sir, you’re staring again.” A snap back to the present, where she’s grinning and leaning close to your face. So pretty. “I get it—I’m hot, but we’re on borrowed time, sir.”

“Right. I honestly forgot what I was gonna tell you,” you mindlessly drawl, searching through your desk for something. Something to temporarily distract you from the inevitability of the end. The rest of your paperwork lies unattended in the faculty room, you remember, but you’re not gonna step foot inside that place—not when the other professors are still around. Time is money. “But it’s definitely not your grades, that’s for certain.”

“What’s it about, then?” Her eyes continue to follow your every move. 

You place a folded sheet of paper between you. She grabs it and reads through the brief content. The response is concerning. 

“You’re leaving?” Haewon turns to you, stunned and gobsmacked. A rare expression coming from someone who’s usually indifferent toward everything and everyone.

Genuinely, you have no idea how to explain yourself. You had this all planned out since the beginning of the year; these two semesters will be your last, you were completely certain. You could have told anyone in the faculty. They’re decent people—as decent as they can be during the few times you actually interact with them—but they were merely coworkers and nothing more. You could have told your wife, who just so happens to be a fellow professor and colleague, but she’s one of the reasons why you’re leaving in the first place. 

Word spreads like wildfire around campus, so you know to be careful, but this is straight recklessness. You call it mutual trust.

“Been thinking about it for a while,” you say, rather quietly, trying your hardest not to look her way. 

“Let me guess,” she says, breaking the pretense of sympathy and concern for her usual caustic tone. “No one cares about your shitty class?”

You’re not remotely bothered by her comment, even if she’s speaking the truth. Though she could have used a nicer word besides shitty. “Part of it, yeah.”

“I seriously don’t understand why there’s gotta be a religious unit for a business degree,” she adds, fascinated by her own question. Even more so than listening to your lectures. “I don’t get it.”

“I don’t get it either.” Truthfully, you seriously question why you’re even teaching here to begin with.

You’re employed by one of the top universities in the country; every parent would sacrifice everything just for their children to study here. It pays well by teaching standards, but the bar is in hell. Despite the prestige, the overall experience is no different than your time in public high school. Most of the students who do attend come from rich backgrounds; people who use the place as a dick measuring contest to see who is the richer person. These entitled scholars who are always on their phone—one of their many phones—and cheat to get ahead.

It happens so often on the regular that you eventually stopped caring.

“Hmm,” Haewon thinks to herself, running through every piece of information she has to weaponize against you. She knows you better than anyone, mainly because you share personal life details like they’re the daily newspaper. Not to mention the very reason she comes to the classroom in the afternoons: you.

Then she comes to a rather off the wall conclusion. “It’s Miss Myoui, isn’t it?”

You squint your eyes. Haewon glints up. A small opening. 

After a brief pause, she piles on, smirking. “Did I touch a nerve? Poor you,” she says, shooting you a mocking pout that you mostly ignore. “I guess you haven’t had some good pussy in a while. I mean, there’s no reason for me to be here other than the fact that Miss Myoui isn’t letting you clap her ass. Maybe the rumors are true then—”

Before she continues to spill more information that anyone shouldn’t be allowed to know, you fire back with a sharp glare. She cheekily grins. By ignoring the flashing red light right in front of you, you’re purposefully walking towards your own downfall.  It’s a trap; you know this. You know Haewon more than any other student. All her little tricks, all her crafty schemes. 

God, you can already see how this is gonna end.

“So I’m right?” Haewon tilts her head, leaning slightly forward. Her smug expression, word choice, and mocking tone tests your patience—including your blood levels—and you’re failing by the minute. “Trouble at home?”

Your response? Nothing. Going word for word with her ultimately results in a losing effort; previous conversations with her leave you more tongue tied and in a rut by the end. Haewon is so natural at getting under people’s skin. It’s what she gets off on—wrapping professors and superiors around her finger with her mouth. And more often than not, she’s charismatic and charming enough that it’s entertaining, but no one wants to openly admit it except you.

It’s how she’s able to read you like an open book. Let personal information slip so seamlessly. The numerous discussions regarding her underperformance in class lead into intimate sessions where you and Haewon become more acquainted with each other. A little too comfortable at times, but you can see where and why she acts the way she does. And you had come to the conclusion that you can’t fix her. Many have tried—and failed. She does whatever she wants, and she’ll end up getting away with it.

You slide your laptop aside, ready to dance with the devil, going against everything you swore against. “Mmm—not quite, but you’re halfway there.”

Haewon smiles and her eyes flutter. Not in a patronizing, condescending way, but the sweet kind. Genuine. The soft side she’ll only let you see. “Miss Myoui not letting you clap, sir?”

“She does,” you say, dour. And I already told you class hours are done. Please don’t call me sir.”

“Right. Sir.” Haewon’s playful tone trails off with that loathsome word. She can’t help but smirk; it’s second nature to her. She’ll claim that you fell for that bait, but that was deliberate, you’ll say—even if she refuses to believe you.  

After a brief impasse, “So—sir,” she follows, using her eyebrows and cadence to tease, her hands on the edge of her pants, teasing some underwear, “You need to fuck me again? Now? Is Miss Myoui not letting you have some lately?”

Turning your gaze away and to the desk, “About Mina,” you reply, drumming your fingers on the table, deep in thought, “I’m planning to divorce her soon.”

“Huh?” Her eyes shoot wide, her expression rather surprised at the sudden revelation. You’d think by how she teases you about your wife, she’d have a much more subdued reaction. Considering she knows facets of your rather strange relationship with Mina. “Well, I would tell you’d be fumbling big time, but you should know—”

“She’s cheating on me. I know.” 

Now she’s genuinely shocked, completely caught unaware. She’d assume you to be particularly naive and clueless about campus rumblings, especially since she’d never see you outside of the classroom and in the faculty room. “Well damn. I honestly thought you didn’t know.”

“Can’t say it would be the first time I’ve heard about it,” you say, turning to face her again, cold and gloomy. Pointing your finger at her, “And before you say anything, no, I didn’t catch her getting eaten out in the faculty room.” 

You say that with the utmost sincerity—and sarcasm.

Haewon hesitates, before answering, rather  “I figured.” She understands that your poor eyes have seen some things you shouldn’t be seeing.

Truthfully, you’re amazed she hasn’t brought up the subject a lot earlier. Since the end of the previous academic year, you’ve noticed Mina’s sudden changes in behavior. She’s sending more text messages telling you she’ll arrive home later than usual, the frequent faculty outings she chooses to attend, the cancellation of plans scheduled months in advance—the biggest of which, a dinner date at a particularly expensive five-star restaurant on the other side of town that has a notorious 18 month waitlist that you miraculously booked for your anniversary. And that was five months ago.

People change, but Mina is an entirely different person to you now. You can hardly recognize her.

“I guess I should say I’m sorry for what happened,” Haewon says, pretty modest and empathetic in tone, but even during serious moments, she can’t help but remark, “But you were kind of loser material for a woman like her.”

You can only stare back, annoyed. She chuckles, heartily. Seeing your animated, cartoonish expressions only serves to amuse her even further and fuel her addiction of teasing you. 

“Ah, I fucking love you, sir. You’re my favorite professor for this reason.” In an instant, the somber facade falls apart and she’s back to being her usual coy self.

“Among other things?” you question.

“Such as?” Haewon looks confused. It’s a bluff; you’re calling it now. “Such as what, sir?”

Placing a hand on her knee, you’re creating friction so intense that her mouth goes agape and her breaths grow heavier. “Such as the fact that no one eats you out better than I do,” you reply, inflection transitioning from formal to low.

“Oh?” She doesn’t believe what’s happening to you. “Sir,” her cadence dances in such a melodic and sultry way it’s gonna ruin you faster than anything she’s done so far. “You have no evidence to prove—”

Suddenly, Haewon goes tongue tied, unable to finish her sentence. That’s a first. And you didn’t need to lift a finger or use your voice. Your other hand finds solace around her toned waist, exploring her tummy, and it’s thankfully not restricted by any layer of clothing. So much pristine skin to claim as yours, you begin to lose your restraint—and there isn’t much left to begin with.

“I can take you to the faculty room and show you,” you mumble against her belly, the cold breath tickling her flesh that she trembles. Haewon’s senses float off, her vision growing dark as her hands impulsively latch onto your shoulders. In return, you peck her navel, her abs, until you reach her abdomen, a hair’s breadth away from her chest. Between kisses, you continue to feed into her want, “Or I can give you an example right now.”

“Please,” Haewon finds enough clarity to cup your face up and meet her in a lengthy passionate liplock. This is what she wanted from the start. “Indulge me, sir.”

The only thing keeping you two apart is the laptop dangling on the opposite side of the table, almost pushed aside while you were making out. You quickly place it on a random desk before closing the two classroom door curtains.

When you return to Haewon, she’s sitting atop your desk, playfully swinging her legs, smiling modestly. It’s only now that you recognize how pretty she looks. But behind that meek appearance is a demon, a temptress that only sees you as a conduit for pleasure. In her eyes, the only purpose you have to give is sex, and nothing more. 

So push your chair forward when you sit down. Haewon’s legs are already spread wide, but the pants remain on them. She doesn’t like to do it herself. 

“Won’t give me a cheating discount?” you say, looking up at her coy grin, placing your hands around the hem of her trousers.

“Technically—” she trails off, kissing you, “You’re cheating on her with me, sir.” Followed by another. Each one deeper, more intimate than the last. “Don’t act all innocent now, especially when we’ve been doing this for months.”

Then, Haewon consumes you—as in, devours you. Grabs you and makes out with you with a passion you wish she’d present during class hours. You’d be content to remain in this position for the rest of the day, even if the clothes never come off; he’s so passionate and fervent that it’s intoxicating. But it’s all planned. Elaborate. You’re familiar with her more than you ever want to be: how she loves to unbutton your shirt while kissing you, how she mumbles and hums softly against your mouth, how she whispers desires that end up becoming realized after the foreplay. In reality, she’s the one dictating the pace, the one calling all the shots, and you’re merely an instrument she uses to indulge herself.

And she wants it: everywhere, in every position—something you find too much to handle, and she’s already quite the handful. But it’s merely a delay of the inevitable; you’re going to fuck Haewon, you’re gonna pour all your cum inside her, and you can figure out the rest the morning after.

More often than not, your shirt ends up unbuttoned, but not completely undone. One of two layers keeping your impulsive desires in check. As you work Haewon’s pants down her legs, most of your lesser instincts are shown in full display. It takes almost tearing your own fingers off your very hands not to rip through her panties. Meanwhile, she’s lounging on the desk, enjoying the sight of you reverting back to something primal. 

The way you fondle her creamy thighs, never finding their beginning and end, is like beholding a sculpture crafted by the gods. They’re meant to be worshiped, to be handled reverently.

And Haewon guides you through the process, commanding you like she has authority over you. Titles do not matter—they never have. “Keep going,” she says, as you leave delicate kiss marks down her thighs, slowly burying yourself into the inviting presence of her pussy. Peeking through the near-nonexistent layer of fabric, she shifts the lift of her legs, perching on your shoulders as she forces you into her suffocating warmth. 

“Show me,” she gasps, brushing your hair with her hand, and that’s what sets the rest into motion.

Her legs clutch you into a breathless hold. God, she’s killing you slowly, and you don’t mind it one bit. At this point, you have nothing to lose. You might as well treat this as your last supper, your final meal before you have to say goodbye. She can strangle you with her thighs while you drag your tongue up and down her folds, suck on her clit, take in all her nectar—it doesn’t change the fact that Haewon is gonna fucking end you. 

You might as well repay the favor.

And despite throwing caution to the wind, Haewon appears unprepared. Dazed and confused by the overwhelming sensation burning through her nerves, she trembles—and moans. She couldn’t be any less subtle if she tried; hearing her hit notes you never thought she’s capable of hitting only serves to be a minor distraction from her pulsating heat. You’re relentless, slowly picking away at her senses, at her sensitive cunt, knowing that no one can eat her out as well as you do.

“S-sir.” Haewon can only muster up a single word before her mouth fills the room with nothing but air. 

Deep down, you despise the rather obstructive yet comfortable position you’re in. Your tongue brushes against Haewon’s folds, going back and forth to taste of her warmth and her clit. The rest of her frame lays atop the desk, trembling, unable to keep herself steady under your grip. She’s lost you somewhere in between, clinging onto the edges of the table for support. You can only imagine her jaw agape, her expressions twisting in pleasure, wriggling and tossing her head around as she aimlessly tries to find some semblance of control.

Her mouth is the only tool she can use to make some sense of this overwhelming bliss. And even that doesn’t amount to much. ‘Shit,’ ‘so good,’ ‘don’t stop—’ these are only some of the things she groans out as you trap her in a whirlpool of her own ecstasy. It’s still not enough. You want to prove her wrong; you want to remind her what’s important, and the only way you can make sure she truly understands if she fucking cums all over your face.

So while Haewon writhes and makes a damn mess of your desk, you continue to feast on her pretty cunt. She’s making sure every person in the building knows how good your tongue is, and it’s in character with how unabashedly shameless she behaves in front of everyone. Her legs kick sharply against your chair, so you end up where you were supposed to be from the beginning—on your knees. And yet it doesn’t deter you; if anything, you grow more attached to her pussy, savoring every taste and drop, taking piece of every little part of her as yours.

You can’t wait to explore the rest of her body and claim it as yours. On the off chance you’re able to rip her shirt off, your hands roam her tight, lithe figure. You’re met by layers of fabric, frustrated at the inability to grab her breasts in their natural form. She grabs you by the wrists; it’s a miracle she’s able to feel you through the waves crushing her to the desk. You suck on her clit hard. She lets out this guttural moan that sounds violent in nature, like you’re hurting her, when you’re actually doing the exact opposite. 

And it’s how you play off each other for the most part. Your need to get Haewon naked is only matched by her desperation to cum. She doesn’t need to tell you directly how much she wants to. Her hands guide you beneath her shirt, and you press on the underside of her boobs in appreciation. You’re playing a dangerous game; you have no intention of letting go. 

Surprisingly, Haewon holds up well. One look and it might appear that she’s a complete wreck: how her body trembles unceasingly, how she has half her shirt lifted to give you a better view of her chest for when you eventually come up for air, how helpless she is at even the slightest touch. You made her like this. It’s a habit she’s used to by now; she’s learned that a figure like hers is meant to be admired, to be used.

Before you grow comfortable with the habit, the idea that you can eat her out on the desk for hours, Haewon cums.

She keens and shudders through her surprise orgasm. It’s aligned with her playful nature to cum without your knowing, even though the signs were there all along. Your tongue works through the torrent of fluid, then the wave of slick that you drink up. Lap whatever your satiated bud allows. You can see remnants of her climax spill down the desk and to the floor, to her pants. 

Even now, you’re still learning something new about your students. For one, you never knew Haewon squirts.

The wet desk would make for a perfect reference picture for when she questions your legitimacy again—but you have better ways of explaining yourself.

You give Haewon no reprieve; she mewls and whimpers as you lick her folds clean, till you settle into soft, gentle kisses. The situation is all sorts of fucked; she has places to be and friends to meet, but you have her on top of your desk, keening after eating her out and making her cum without a care. It’s gonna take an essay's worth of explaining the glaringly wet patches on her clothes and deep red marks over her skin. 

Truthfully, she’d rather be with you than with her overbearing friends—but you won’t hear it directly from her lips.

Speaking of, you hear a phone ring. Haewon cranes her neck in the direction of her bag. “Sir, I need my phone.” She huffs, gasping for air, each word spaced out between deep breaths. 

Regretfully, it takes every bit of your resolve to release your tongue from her warm cunt. You rummage through her bag and hand the phone over to her. It’s about picking up the pieces now, salvaging whatever you can make of the mess you made, albeit there’s hardly anything to save, even yourself. 

“Don’t.” Haewon uses her loose toes to point at you, shifting herself into a sitting position on the desk. You’re halfway done with the first button on your shirt when she stops you. She’s tapping through her phone, texting some bullshit excuse to her friends. Knowing her, they’re most likely no better than her; they might be playing into your little secret, too. All it takes is one person, one word of mouth, before information spreads around like wildfire.

Like everything else about her, you had mostly left it up to interpretation. Forcing details out of Haewon is a near-impossible task. You were never really a good negotiator. The deal usually ends up like this: her panties for a bonus in her grades, her lips for a signed excuse letter, and if she was really in the mood, her pussy for a cheat sheet. Sometimes, 

She sets her phone aside on the desk, hopping off the table to lay her hands on your exposed chest. Momentarily kissing you, she whispers, “Sir, I told them I would be a little late today. You should know better by now.” 

Her fingers wring around the collar of your button up shirt, eyes ablaze with reinvigorated lust, lips curled  in a pleasant smile. You’re so enamored with her, it drives you crazy. Even when she pushes you onto your chair, even when she rips the already undone shirt off your body, all you can do is pay attention to the stars in her eyes. Her warm, wanton gaze—both charming and alluring in all the right ways. She knows how to use every part of herself to near perfection. 

The rest of your clothes couldn’t come off any faster. Your pants and boxers pool around your ankles, followed shortly by a dark cropped sweatshirt. You’re not given any time to savor the perfection that is Haewon’s naked figure; she’s straddled on your lap, stroking your hard cock with a delicate grip. She smirks, and she has every right to look smug. You’re left breathless, under pressure; if only you can see yourself in the mirror and see how needy you look, and the utter control Haewon has over you.

And you allow her; this is her specialty, this is what she’s built for—to fucking end you.

If your words allow you, you’d command her to get on her knees, suck your cock and take a warm load all over her face; this is the ideal position to make the move. But you can’t. Not when you’re missing the point. 

Haewon is on the edge of your lap, running her hand around your cock, gathering spurts of precum on her nails and finger pads. She’s still winded from before, slow in her movements. The naughty look she gives your body never grows old. 

“I hope you don’t mind if I ask you a question,” she starts, looking down at the little mess she’s making on your thigh. You’re too overwhelmed to breathe, let alone say a word.

“Be honest with me. I’m being serious for once.” 

And she sounds like she means it. You gulp your throat as you enter the unknown.

Her eyes flicker up to meet yours, her expression deep in thought, something she’s not usually seen doing. And you feel the heat gradually building on your lap, but you’re paralyzed by anxiety for the sensation to register. She runs the other hand through hair to take a good luck at you: your rather sweaty face, somewhere between pleasure and tense. 

“Tell me,” she sighs, running a hand down your shoulder to your elbow, before continuing, “Am I the best student you’ve ever fucked?”

“Yes.” The word comes out involuntarily, as if it were muscle memory. Like your body knows, and it knows itself better than anyone or anything else.

It draws a piqued reaction from Haewon. She raises an eyebrow, unconvinced. “And what about Yoona?”

“And what about her?” 

A reply you end up regretting almost immediately. Haewon doesn’t take bullshit for an answer, as evident by the cold, dour stare on her face. If there’s anyone who knows the ins and outs of university, it’s her. 

It doesn’t take long for you to cave in. “She’s so tight,” you admit, sounding like a guilty criminal being interrogated. “But you’re still the best, I swear.”

“And what about Yuna? That exchange student Lily? Miss Minatozaki? You say that to just about anyone.” 

In an instant, she goes from curious and passionate to downright frightening. It’s not supposed to be like this; normally it’s you who has the authority. Haewon can go on and on for hours if she wanted to. She has all the leverage, all the evidence, all the power to cause the end of everything, your life included. But she only wants one thing: the truth.

“They’re nothing compared to you. Promise. You’re still my favorite student.”

To a certain extent, you’re right; Haewon is your favorite, but for all for the wrong reasons. It has nothing to do with teaching her anything other than being a good toy, because deep down, she’s about as irredeemable as your peers make her out to be. Really, it’s about using her body, fucking her, pushing her to the absolute limits—anything to get your mind out of the numbing, monotonous work of being an actual professor. There are many good girls in class, including the names she mentions in passing, but this is a stark reminder that Haewon is yours, and you belong to Haewon.

“Then show me.”

And to drive the point even further, she sinks down on your lap, pressing her weight on your crotch—until her pussy meets your cock and you both disappear into the sea of pleasure again.

Haewon throws her head back, and she’s never looked more vulnerable, not even when you had her laid out on the desk. All this flesh and body to claim, and you have no clue where to begin. But that’s the least of your problems when she begins to glide up and down, rocking your lap with slow, agonizing thrusts. You end up blanking out and caring about the friction in your hips instead. 

The slip of your cock in and out of her pussy when she rides you. Your palms press against her waist while you watch her slowly come undone: the moans, curses, and every sound in between, the rapidly twisting expressions, the hypnotic jiggle of her chest. Soon, you find a steady rhythm to match, and everything becomes effortless. Both of you pushing and pulling against each other’s bodies in an effort to get deeper. You forget you’re a professor and her a student, only two souls in need of sex during some trying times in your lives.

In a way, you’re both meant to be. Fate is a strange entity.

Then Haewon regains some clarity, enough to be kissing you, moaning directly in your ear, demanding your gaze. Even when her hole swallows your cock, she still wants your attention. And even while you have it so deep in her cunt that she’s mewling, struggling for oxygen, she manages to form a coherent sentence.

“Tell me I’m the tightest. Tell me I have the best pussy you ever fucked.” 

God, she’s so fucking tight you can’t fully comprehend it. Perhaps even more, and you’re used to using her. Maybe it’s all that pent-up frustration toward your dead end job, toward Mina, that makes her clench tighter. That’s now how pussy works; you’re just stretching her out really hard, but you have nothing sensible to conclude with. What you can tell, however, is that you needed this—and you needed it badly. 

You’re thankful you closed off the doors and curtains to the classroom, because the last thing anyone needs to see and hear is the sight of Haewon riding you while you both moan about how good the other feels. 

“Love this pussy,” you murmur, breathing against her collarbone, wanting a taste of her taut nipple. She has you in a tight bearhug that binds your hands around her waist. “Fuck—so—fucking—tight—the best—”

And that’s all she needed to hear. Every word—every sound—slips from her lips like it hurts, but she’s in total bliss. She moves her hips against the roll of your cock with deep emphasis, like fitting puzzle pieces together, and it sends you. You’re left even more breathless, more in awe at how fucking well Haewon takes your length. As if it was always meant for her. 

Curses and praise aside, she’s never one to talk during sex. But then she makes the faintest comment about how your cock fits so snug inside her, and you honestly just lose it.

Once in a while, a certain inquiry is brought up. What’s your favorite thing about me, Haewon asks, when it’s supposed to be the opposite. You’re supposed to give out this very question to your students as a way to improve your teaching style and maybe come off as an approachable authority figure. As expected, it wasn’t helpful in the slightest. She then would suddenly come to you at the most random of times with this particular question, and you’d be preoccupied with numerous things—home life, school activities, the usual—to find an answer. 

But right there, right as you spear deep into her tight, needy cunt, is where you figure it all out. It’s all in the little details. Your hand going up and down her arched back. The squelching of her pussy against your cock. The furious sound of your flesh slapping against hers. Her loose, shrilly whines while you bury your face between her chest, begging you harder. Her hands tangled with your hair and nape. All that while she’s bouncing on your lap at such a feverish pace; she’s going to break the chair you’re sitting on.

Before you know it, your tongue has traveled all over the most sensitive parts of her body: nipples, neck, and even pits. 

Everything about Haewon is so ridiculous, you can’t believe how much of a challenge she has been for the longest time that you’ve forgotten how easily she folds. Like she’s meant to be used.

But no punishment is suitable enough; no amount of discipline can change her. If anything, it only fuels her goal to thread the needle even further.

“Gonna fucking cum, Haewon,” you hiss against her ear, blurring the line between kissing and biting her collarbone. Using all the strength in your hips, you have her legs spread as wide as they can over the chair, over your thighs. The squirt she releases as she crashes on your lap serves to fan the flames in your cock even brighter. It’s all but inevitable that you’ll pour it all inside her, and she wouldn’t want it any other way.

If you had any semblance of a spine, you’d never let her hear the end of it. The idea that her pussy isn’t getting its fair share of seed disgusts her. She needs to learn what boundaries are, and how not to cross said lines. At least there’s one lesson you can impart on her before you split, but you’ll save that for another day, because you cum.

You fuck Haewon so hard, she turns into mush that melts in your grasp. Forget the guttural groan you made; the aftermath is alarming. Her pussy drips with a huge load pooling on the chair and trickling down her thighs. You make sure you bury yourself to the hilt and unload inside her. The evidence is undeniable; from the smell to the sight of clothes and cum, there’s no concealing it—if there was even anything to hide, because your salacious activity could easily be heard anywhere in the building. 

And lost in the madness is your train of thought; your body is reeling from the aftershocks of your orgasm, and you simply idle. Let your cock stay in Haewon’s warmth as long as possible. Let the setting sun bathe her pretty face in that lovely afterglow. Let her slowly recover and realize that you’ve been right all along about everything.

“Sir, you came inside me a lot,” she says, a little over a whisper, trying to take record of your work. Her eyes stay glued to the puddle of cum dripping down her leg, running a finger to taste you. 

“For my favorite student, why wouldn’t I,” you tell her, caressing your hand up and down her back. Even through the climax, you never stopped. 

The brief, peaceful respite is interrupted by, you guessed it, another phone. This time, it’s not Haewon’s. She moves gingerly bending down, almost tumbling over in an attempt to retrieve your phone from the depths of your pocket. Your only contribution is ensuring she doesn’t bash her head on the floor. 

“Well, well, well,” she comments, looking at your phone with a familiar, sarcastic tone before handing it over to you. “Speak of the devil.”

On the screen are two missed calls and one new text, all from none other than Mina herself. A grim reminder of the reality you live in.

The message is as predictable as it reads. She won’t be home till late in the evening, which might as well be dawn of the next day.

“Miss Myoui is getting it. A hundred percent sure.” 

She delivers it with such conviction that it might as well be fact. You’d be upset about the very thought—anyone would—but a glance at Haewon gives you an idea. One that leaves her curious.

“Sir? Why are you looking at me like that?”

You can already imagine it: the image of railing Haewon everywhere. On the table, against the wall, under the showers. Maybe if you’re lucky enough, Mina will go through that door and be greeted by the sight of her least favorite student getting fucked by her husband from behind.

You show her the text, and just like that, you’re both one and the same. A look of pride crosses her face, as if she’s accomplished an important milestone—and it’s quite a momentous one.

And what better way to celebrate than inside the comfort of your home.

—————

(A/N: Been down bad for Haewon since December. Also, NMIXX is actually good now! Their latest EP has some bangers, highly recommend Run for Roses and Passionfruit. The setting might be a bit more on the bleaker/less wholesome side, but I hope it's not uncomfortable/upsetting. Thank you for reading!)

[peachesofteal]

Ghost/Soap/female reader 18+ mdni - dark content Running from Simon at the bar because he’s the scary man who wants to pick his teeth with your finger bones… only to find an angel waiting in the wings.

Your second martini is stronger than the first. 

You’re not sure how it’s even possible, considering the contents of a martini is mostly just alcohol, but it stings a little sharper on your first swallow, and you eye the skewer of olives skeptically. 

Oh well. 

More bang for your buck, you suppose. Better to get the job done faster, and cheaper, than the alternative. 

The bar is bustling, and you watch it all from the corner you’re tucked into. Coeds from across the city pack like tinned fish against one another, yelling and breathing in each other’s faces, loud laughter and boisterous conversations bouncing off the walls. Cigarette smoke cloys, orange-red ends flickering in the low light of the evening, blazing bright before they’re snuffed out and replaced. 

Your phone buzzes with a text, ten minutes late, and surprise is few and far between when you read that your activities for tonight have now evaporated, plans cancelled with a simple six-word sentence. 

Sorry, I can’t make it now. 

Asshole.

The vodka is stiff on your lips. Your tongue seeks the rim of your glass, flicking at a leftover drop of olive and alcohol, vermouth herbaceous in the back of your mouth. 

“Seat taken?” A gruff, rough dipped voice calls over your shoulder, gesturing to one of the only bar stools left in the building, and you answer without looking up.

“All yours.” 

“Thanks love.” The pet name straightens your spine, and you sneak a glance, eyeing the bulk settling at your side. “Usin’ that?” He points at the ashtray, thick finger alone in the air, and you shake your head. 

He meets your eyes head on as you turn to look at him, curiosity burning a hole in your brain, and good sense has your stomach tightening into a pit. 

A five-alarm fire rages, gusts of wind and pockets of brush fueling it’s spread, encouraging it to burn far and wide inside you until it consumes everything in its path. 

Danger, it shrieks. Run.

The man’s face is scarred. His nose is crooked. His eyes are dark. He’s a hell baptized image of Ares, a gladiator, a solider. A monster of men. 

And he stares at you like he knows you. 

It’s unnerving enough to set you adrift, free falling through the possibilities. 

It’s danger, but so much more. So much worse. He transcends lethality, strength and bloodlust shining in his expression, a dark beacon lighting the way home. Pine and cigarette smoke, drifting in the stale air. 

Just finish your drink and tab out. Leave. 

“Out by yourself tonight?” You blink at the croon in his voice, serrated tip of a knife dripping with honey, and answer automatically. 

“No.” It’s a lie of course, but you were raised with good self-preservation instincts. You’ve been a girl alone in a bar before, on a train, in an Uber. You know how to tilt the table, load the dice. Pretend you’re with someone, or on the phone, or have someone waiting for you. Lie and pretend. Make it believable. 

The flick of a lighter draws your attention, and he extends a fresh smoke towards you. An olive branch. A trick. 

“Want one?” You twist your face into the most disgusted mask manageable, and he chuckles. “Suit yourself. I’m Simon, by the way.” Lie. You give him something tugged from thin air, something you’re not going to remember in ten minutes time. 

The bartender comes by, and you’re both grateful for the reprieve, and a chance to close out. Until-

“An’ another one of those.” He points at the glass, your eyes going round, cold sweat breaking out across the back of your neck. 

“Oh. No, that’s-“ 

“C’mon. One won’t kill ya.” You should tell him it would, it might. Should get loud. More insistent. 

All the rebuttal evaporates when his shoulder shoves against yours, effectively pinning you between the bar top and the wall, heavy thigh bleeding heat against your exposed leg. Your too short dress is now a colossal mistake, and you curse your date for bailing, and yourself for believing he’d even show up in the first place. 

The man, Simon, makes a show of looking around, head on a swivel, roving over the crowd before turning back you with a glint. He knows. He knows you’re not here with anyone. “So, who’d you get all pretty for tonight then?” Smoke rolls from his lips, and the lump in the back of your throat is so thick, it tries to choke you. 

“My- my date.” 

“Where are they?” 

“Not here.” You grit each word, glaring. It only earns you another smile, eyes crinkling in the corner, a shark sniffing blood in the water. 

“Poor thing. An’ your dress is so nice, too. Little short, but… that’s alright. You didn’t know.” He takes a swig of his drink, neat bourbon, room temperature gasoline, and your mouth dries up. 

Didn’t know what? 

The subtle alarm bells ringing in the back of your head become nuclear sirens. 

The martini sweats on the bar top, leaving a wet ring around the base of the glass. Your stomach sours. “Thank you, for the drink, but-“ 

“Drink it.” You haven’t looked away from it, you think, know it hasn’t been tampered with… yet the idea of doing something this stranger, this man asks, terrifies you. 

“I uh…” 

“Don’t wanna be rude, do ya pet?” Fuck. You survey the room, looking for anyone who has noticed you, who has observed this interaction, who has realized what’s happening in this little dark corner. 

No one pays you a lick of attention. If they do, they spot the hulking mass of a man at your elbow and avert their eyes immediately. A few glance back in disbelief, like they recognize him somehow, or know him, before pointedly looking away.  

You’re all but invisible. 

Everything flows around you like water. You’re a rock beneath the surface, affecting a swell, an eddyline, and yet, no one knows. No one can see. 

You swallow half the drink in one gulp, hope and prayer on the wind. 

He’ll leave you alone, once you bore him. Once he realizes he won’t get anything out of you, he’ll move onto someone else. Someone more interesting. 

“How is it?” His leg presses harder on yours, a quadricep like cement halting you effectually, securing your immobility against him with a simple movement. 

He’ll pick you clean, and then pick his teeth with your bones. 

“Fine.”  

“Jus’ fine, eh?” His jaw flexes, and a split second of confusing emotion controls you, forcing new words from your mouth in a desperate attempt to appease. 

“It’s… good. It’s good.” Ice layers across the top of it, and you take another sip for the show, half smile painted on loosely. 

You have to get out of here. You have to go now. 

“If you’ll excuse me…” you flex, trying to stand, but he shakes his head. 

“Where you off to?” Your neck snaps back, indignant, and then you raise your voice over the din, too loud to be considered casual, fingers gripping the edge of your seat until your knuckles hurt. 

“I have to use the bathroom.” Eyes half lidded, he traces you from head to toe before nodding, turning back to his drink almost as if he’s uninterested, grim line of his mouth twisting into a smile and settling around the end of his cigarette. 

Once you’re in the hall, you take a left to the emergency exit, not a right, spilling out the back and into star studded night, gasping for air so cold it shocks your lungs. 

“Whoa, hey there.” An accent croons, and you turn in a panic, palms out. “Easy, easy bonnie. What’s got ye all upset?” Your entire body flags with relief, a rip cord pulled against your sense and judgement. The man, the Scottish man, seems friendly, seems kind, wide blue eyes alarmed and worried, brows creased gently as he helps keep you upright. 

“S-sorry. Sorry, I just… I just had… the weirdest-“ It doesn’t make sense, to try to explain, and nothing sounds right coming off your tongue, so you flail, and he tries to comfort you. 

“Shhh, ye’re alright now. Just breathe.” His palm is firm against your side, and you shake your head, trying to put words to the madness brewing at your back inside the bar. 

“There was a man, and he-“ The streetlamps flare, burning as bright as the sun, and you blink, grasping for your bearings. “He…” 

“He what, bonnie?” His voice is distorted, and the arm at your side now creeps around your back. “What’s wrong?” Your adrenaline surges, leaving your head throbbing, and nausea claws it way up the back of your throat. 

“N-nothing, I…” You’re fuzzy. Everything out of balance, and you gasp for air. 

The door behind you creaks open and slams closed, jolting you in the grip of the Scotsman. 

“It’s alright.” He coos. You’re weak limbed, malleable in his hold, and he turns your face into his neck, rubbing your back, his chest vibrating with every syllable. “Just close your eyes.” He smells good, woodsmoke and juniper, pine and cigarettes, something familiar enough to prickle, far away awareness digging at the soft sinew in the front of your brain. 

Pine and cigarettes. Pine… and cigarettes. 

It’s the last thing your rational mind pieces together before you’re lost to the darkness. 

[nnnyxie]

kuroo, atsumu, osamu, bokuto, ushijima, & kenma with a chubby s/o (i added ken as a little treat [lowkey to myself..])

(pretty & beautiful are used, could be considered suggestive)

(requested by @starrbright)

kuroo tetsuro ;

as much as i love to slander him— he is a true romantic and will treat you like you’re a higher being.

he doesn’t care if you’re chubby or not. he’s the type of guy to say “that just means there’s more of you to love” (which is lowkey kinda cute, he’s so dumb)

i hate him (affectionate). he just adores you and loves your to hold your stomach and hips (he will whisper awful pick up lines in your ear while holding you though [he’s such a loser /aff]). he just can’t get enough of you, he’s constantly touching you, it’s a spectrum of linking pinkies to yk..

anyways… he’s always showering you in affection and gifts. takes you to specific stores that have plus sized clothing. to be more specific, expensive plus sized stores. he makes you try on everything. yk how men do that whole manspread thing?? yeah, he does that on the couches near the dressing rooms and does that little finger whirl to make you twirl (that rhymes).

he’s always telling you how beautiful you are to him and how breathtaking you are. he’s so in love with you it makes him look stupid (affectionate).

he’s ALWAYS bragging to his friends about you and telling all of his coworkers that he has the prettiest partner (he’s so dumb, i love him)

miya atsumu ;

is he a major asshole? yes. but does that extend to you? absolutely not.

he’s another absolute LOSER (affectionate). he’s so in love with you. you could stab him and he’d thank you. i strongly believe he’s very into thick/chubby people. he loves laying on your thighs or stomach.

ngl when you first heard about how he was in high school, you were vv uncomfortable w/ him because you thought he’d treat you the same (even though you’re MSBY’s manager)

so you didn’t interact with him unless it was to pass out towels/water bottles or go over notes (which you tried to get that over with quickly). and it kinda pissed him off cause he thought you were so pretty (it’s physically painful how attractive you are to him).

he decided to confront you one day. the team was in the locker room, yk just doing their thing, and he was finally able to get you alone. so he strides on over to you (like the loser he is) and asks why you avoid him. and obviously you hesitate but he kept pushing for an answer. when you told him, he was genuinely stunned. he stutters out how he’s sorry he made you feel that way and offers to take you to a restaurant as a way to start new (aka he tricked you into going on a date).

anyways— after a few more ‘hang outs’ of getting to know each other, he finally asks you on a proper date (osamu made him. he said that atsumu couldn’t just keep tricking you to going on dates. atsumu protested) (ps if u got boobs, he’ll squish em HARD so beware)

miya osamu ;

my LORD he loves chubby people. you CANNOT change my mind !!!!!

okay okay so…….. he met you at a farmer’s market <3 you had a booth and you were selling his favorite seasonings !!! he didn’t really LOOK at you until he went to pay for his spices and good LORD he basically drooled all over himself.

he whimpered a little… your curves made him feel a teensy bit crazy. and when you spoke?? when you laughed at a corny joke about seasonings?? he fell in love right then and there.

he asked for your number after the small conversation and invited you to try his food at his restaurant. when you realized he was the owner of onigiri miya, you were kind of shocked. you only ever ordered online. plus, i mean— you only got his first name. but that’s besides the point

anyways, you would have cooking/dinner dates and afterwards you’d just cuddle, yk cutesy stuff. he always made it a point to hold all of you or at least most of you. (he just loves touching you)

he has his hands on you whenever he can and he’ll squeeze whatever part of you he could. his favorite though— your butt and thighs. but sometimes he’ll squeeze them too hard and you’ll have to pinch him.

bokuto koutaro ;

okay so— let’s say you work at onigiri miya. you’re the sweet new employee that the team has yet to meet (aside from shitty [/aff] atsumu).

the moment he walks through that door and sees you, it’s like one of those cheesy romcoms where the main character sees a glow around you and everything is in slow motion. brows up, eyes wide, mouth agape, face red. he’s genuinely in awe of you. (atsumu notices and makes sure to get a seat in your serving area)

when you come to bring them their food, bokuto is so nervous— his palms are sweaty and his whole face is red. at first you thought that maybe he was red because he was upset about not getting the other server (yk like red in the face anger??).

he ends up asking for your number at the end of his meal. you thought that maybe it was a joke cause, well, he’s a big ass athlete and usually those people don’t go for your type (which is so stupid bc chubby people are <3 [they’re very much my type]). but those thoughts left when you saw how nervous he was about it. this 190+ cm man was shaking because he was so nervous (it was cute).

he definitely messages you as soon as he leaves. he ends up calling you later that night, just so he could ask to take you out on a date (poor guy was too nervous to ask when he saw you) (the date went well and was very nice).

he’s very physically affectionate so expect his constant need for touch. when you’re both sitting, he likes to hold your thigh. especially when he’s driving (yk like— the one hand on the wheel, one hand on your thigh thing). he also loves to hold your hips and squeeze them. he says it gives him energy— doesn’t make sense but okay !

ushjima wakatoshi ;

he’s like— a chubby chaser but also not?? if that makes sense???

anyways !! i’d like to think you two have been together since the end of high school <3 you guys met through tendou in your first year (he was totally setting you two up) and oddly became fast friends. then he asked you out after the karasuno match (you were comforting him and the question just came out on it’s own. like he was thinking about being with you and his mouth said something before his brain could comprehend).

so yes, you’ve been together for a looong while.

he unintentionally brags about you. like— the adlers will ask why he declines their invitations to go out sometimes and he’ll say “my partner is making dinner at home. they’re very good, i’d rather have their food. restaurants don’t make food as good as theirs” but that ends up in the adlers coming to your house to try your food. (a warning would’ve been nice)

speaking of food and when you’re cooking— he loves to hold you while you do so. he’ll squish your stomach and hips (his favorite parts) while swaying to the music that’s playing (maybe you got soul and r&b playing [i am currently fixated on lauryn hill so bare with me]) it can get a little annoying (i like cooking alone so,,, yeah) but he’s very sweet and cute and amazing, so he gets a pass.

mmmm this man loves to cuddle, i just know it. he loves the position where like— half of his body is draped over you and he has his head on your chest cause it lets him touch his favorite parts of you.

kozume kenma ;

he doesn’t care what you look like. if you have a good personality then that’s all that matters to him.

when he’s gaming, he likes to sit on the floor in front of you so that he’s in between your thighs and they sort of rest on his shoulders. which can be dangerous because sometimes he’ll get so excited and try to jump up but drags you off the couch/bed.

whenever you’re playing games (maybe you’re taking turns??) he’ll turn himself (yes, he’s still on the floor) and rest his head between your thighs or lays his head on one of them. sometimes he’ll lay on the couch/bed so he could hug your waist (i like to think he’s clingy when he’s close w/ someone).

he’ll brag about you on his stream and taunt kuroo for not having a partner yet. he’ll actually be so mean to kuroo saying shit like “you’re the only cat at a horse orgy party” (they have such a beautiful friendship)

he also likes to sit in your lap (i wanna cradle him… i think i have issues??) and usually faces towards you when he does

he’s a BITER!!!!! if he’s ever laying on your lap or sitting between your legs— he’ll just fuckin bite you. when he has his head on your stomach??? CHOMP. when you’re cooking or putting dishes away?? shoulder bite. he’s just the type of guy to bite as a way of showing affection (me too tho ???)

my boys <3

sorry this took so long!!

[5sospenguinqueen]

Fake It 'Til You... Confess? - Liam Lawson x Verstappen! Reader

Summary: RBR are preparing fans for the announcement that Liam will be replacing Perez in 2025. And how do they propose to gain more interest in him? By having him fake date Verstappen’s sister. 

Fluff. Touch of angst. Fake dating 

Requested: Yes by @biancathecool (here)

Blurb halfway down. Not proofread

F1 Masterlist

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

ynverstappen just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes and others 

ynverstappen my brother still comes to me and goes “wanna see something cool?” and then makes me watch as he does something uncool #silverstonegp

3,301 comments

maxverstappen1 excuse me. i got a trophy. how is that not cool?

→ ynverstappen because i had to listen to the british anthem

→ landonorris again. how is that not cool? 

user here before liam

→ user he always gets to posts so fast, are we sure they’re not dating?

→ user just childhood besties 

liamlawson30 the coolest thing i saw this weekend was you 

→ ynverstappen obviously 

→ user i love the dry verstappen humour 

danielricciardo that’s because you spent the weekend in the wrong bulls garage. i could’ve shown you my cool scooter tricks 

→ ynverstappen no. the last time you tried to show me a wheelie, you hit me in the ankle 

redbullracing yn representing us in the last pic 

→ user admin keeping it real 

user definitely the hottest verstappen sibling liked by liamlawson30 

→ user they say childhood besties but their internet behaviour says down bad 

ynverstappen posted a new story

liamlawson30 replied stop making me seem like a fan  → also i can’t believe you posted the makeup pic. i said you could do it so long as you didn’t show anyone!  → ynverstappen be for real. you let me do it so i’d sit in your lap → liamlawson30 no ‘cause you smell 

redbullracing replied bestie, are you aware that your entire insta story is just liam lawson?   → ynverstappen are you aware i’d support ferrari if not for max and liam  → redbullracing ouch → ynverstappen yeah, my bad. too far 

jackdoohan replied (pic 2) i’m tired of this grandpa → but for real, he looks like you’ve destroyed his soul → ynverstappen you’ll be next if you keep bullying me 

user so you go to watch max race in hungary yet spend the entire weekend with a guy NOT driving??  (seen 2 hours ago)

 

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

Hungary GP

Fingers drumming on the table, Liam swung on the hind legs of his chair, eyes frantically darting to the door of the meeting room every time he heard a noise. At the other end of the table, the head of PR for RBR whispered back and forth with the legal rep. The pair of them glanced his way every now and again.

“So sorry I’m late. Christian kept talking to me about ‘the Tik Tok’ and I couldn't figure out how to get away.” A blur of blonde burst into the room, cheeks flushed with exertion. “Liam, legs on the floor. You could lose your tongue that way,” she reprimanded. 

“I knew you cared about me.” 

Noticing the three other people in the room, her smile slipped and she straightened, attempting to look more presentable. (And less like she’d run through the RBR factory). Being called to a meeting with the head of PR, a legal representative, your best friend and his manager, usually implied that you’d done something wrong. 

“Thank you for joining us, Miss Verstappen.” 

“I’m sorry if me posting pictures of Liam on my Instagram with mean captions caused problems. I swear I didn’t mean for Twitter to-”

“Relax. You’re not in trouble,” assured Liam's manager, a fond smile on his face.

Plopping into the seat next to Liam, she frowned when he offered her a forced smile. Not his usual blinding grin. 

“Quite the opposite, in fact. Your friendship with Liam has gained traction amongst the fans. They seemed quite invested in your closeness.” 

This time when she turned to look at her friend, he looked out the window, feigning interest in a passing bird.

“As you know, Liam has signed a contract to replace Checo for the 2025 season-”

Liam braced himself, preparing for a blow that never came. Instead, he turned to find her glaring daggers at both him and her brother.

“Actually, I didn’t know because Max and Liam take their NDAs seriously, and don't tell me a thing.”

A flicker of a smile crossed the legal representatives face but the PR manager remained impassive, eager to get this over with. “Yes, anyway, as I was saying… Mr Lawson will be joining the team as a fulltime driver next year. Whilst the team are overjoyed to have him, many of the fans have been speculating-.”

“More like begging,” remarked Liam's manager. The driver was starting to regret asking him to attend the meeting in support. 

“-for Daniel to come back. We’ve been drumming up a few ideas on how to get the fans more interested in Liam.”

“Have you met him? All you have to do is stick him in a room full of fans and let them talk to him. He’s charming.” She defended, outraged at the idea of him not being interesting enough for the fans. He wanted to reach over and grab her hand, hold her close. But he hadn’t done that before and he couldn't start now. “Don’t let that go to your head,” she whispered to him, eyes twinkling. 

“We couldn't agree more. We were hoping we could rely on your help to show the public that.”

“Of course. Anything you need.” 

Liam winced at how eager she was to help him, hoping that the next few minutes wouldn’t ruin the strong bond of friendship. Not having her in his life would be worse than not having a seat next year. 

“Perfect. We were hoping that in order to garner some more interest in Liam, we would tease the fans with an insight into his personal life. With your consent, of course, we’d like to hint at the beginnings of a relationship between you and Liam. Fans have already proven that they love your friendship and want more.”

“Wait, what? You want us to fake date?” 

He couldn't decipher the tone of her voice, and was terrified to turn and look at her face. Holding his breath, he silently pleaded for her to say more. 

“The internet is currently obsessed with public figures soft launching their relationships. You don’t have to come out and say that you’re in a relationship. But, maybe post each other a bit more. Hold hands when you go out together. Flirty comments left on Instagram. Maybe posts that hint of both of you being involved with someone without showing who.”

“And you’re okay with this?” She turned to Liam, hand touching his for the first time since they were kids. His skin flamed at the contact. “You’re comfortable with being paraded around like this?” 

“It couldn't hurt, right? Everyone wants Daniel in that seat and I’m just a rookie.”

“You’re more than that,” she whispered to him, before turning her attention back to the RBR team members. “How long do we have to do this for?” 

“Everything is outlined in the contract. We’ve asked that you spend the weekend together in Spa, and then post some dates over the summer break. We can reconvene again the week before Zandvoort, and go from there.”

“When will you announce Liam? He has signed the contract, right? You can’t renege on that?”

“No, we can’t. He’ll be announced the week after Monza.” 

“Show me where to sign.”

No hesitation. No doubt. Just undying loyalty for her friend. Liam’s heart stuttered painfully in his chest, bringing forth all the feeling’s he’d tried to repress. The Red Bull reserve driver was getting everything he wanted. Except the most important part wasn’t real. It was nothing but a legally binding contract with an expiration date. He only hoped his friendship didn’t have one as well.

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

Liam Insta - soft launch (have)

liked by ynverstappen, redbullracing and others

liamlawson30 just things in spa 

4,040 comments

ynverstappen whoa, you didn’t tell me you had a girly friend, i thought we were bffs 💔

→ liamlawson30 i talk but you never listen

→ user stop trying to throw us off the scent. we know that’s yn 

→ user ouch but his response was kinda bitchy 

→ user yn and liam falling out because liam moved on? 

maxverstappen1 watch your hands

→ user nah ‘cause this confirms that it’s yn

→ maxverstappen1 no, there’s just children on this app (lando)

→ landonorris hey! i’m older than your sister 

→ ynverstappen not mentally 

user @/redbullracing look he even wears team gear on weekends, now give him a seat  

user liam lawson soft launching a woman and not a contract? could my heart break any more? 

redbullracing pr said you’re not supposed to publicly grope women

→ liamlawson30 i privately groped but publicly shared 

→ ynverstappen ew you mean someone actually let you touch them?

→ liamlawson30 yes. i know that’s a foreign concept to you but

user max and liam interacting? i smell future teammates 

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

ynverstappen just posted  

liked by maxverstappen1, alexandrasaintmleux and others 

ynverstappen summer break with my favourite people (oh, and liam)

40,33 comments

landonorris you said i was your favourite boy the other day :( 

→ ynverstappen you bought me a waffle, i’d have said anything 

→ jakckdoohan is this why you offered to marry me when i gave you a hotdog last weekend? 

user anyone noticing liam and yn have been posting each other a lot more lately

→ user thank you! i know they’re friends but they’ve defo been spending more time with each other recently 

→ user he's not as smiley though?? anyone else noticed?

victoriaverstappen i’m sorry but is that you being nice to max in front of people?

→ ynverstappen shh, it’s the wine he gave me. he said grape juice makes me nice 

→ liamlawson30 he was right

user ngl but all of yn’s recent posts have made me more interested in liam lawson

→ user haha same, i only followed him because people kept saying he was dating her

francisca.cgomes minha linda amiga

→ ynverstappen jij bent mooier

maxverstappen1 whoa, is this you being nice to me on the internet?

→ ynverstappen why do you and vic act like i’m evil to you?

→ maxverstappen1 you pushed me into the pool the other day fully clothed

→ liamlawson30 and flung your mother’s spaghetti at his white shirt

→ user i’m sorry but liam at verstappen family dinner? 

maxverstappen1 just posted

liked by kellypiquet, landonorris and others

maxverstappen1 ☀️

3,316 comments

user liam lawson, what are you doing here

ynverstappen liam looks like his mum told him to smile for a picture to his Oma

ynverstappen also, i took loads of nice pics this summer, why not one of those 

→ liamlawson30 my smile is because i’ve been kept captive and i’m begging for someone to save me 

→ ynverstappen max ain’t gonna help ya 

user i’m conflicted. on one hand, i can’t imagine max liking liam dating his little sister but on the other, i can’t imagine yn’s “friend” making the summer dump 

redbullracing we love a post that has not one but two bulls in

→ ynverstappen release your hold on them (the cap is starting to smell)

→ user liam lawson for RBR “25 confirmed? 

user no because now i’m convinced liam and yn are dating because he managed to make it to max’s summer dump?

landonorris save that poor boy from your sister

→ maxverstappen1 hey, he chose her. he has to deal with her now 

user i need liam to join rbr next year just so i can publicly watch his relationship with yn unfold 

user everyone commenting on how liam should be scared to be max’s brother in law but imagine being 🤮 jos’ 🤮 son in law

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

liamlawson30 just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, jackdoohan and others

liamlawson30 a seat for 2025 and a best friend for life, what more could i guy want 

5,540 comments 

ynverstappen for life?! no one told me that when i said for reals, it would mean eternity 

→ liamlawson30 foreverrrrrr

→ ynverstappen can i return you?

→ liamlawson30 the contract said no take backsies 

ynverstappen i knew you liked my ass

→ liamlawson30 obviously

jackdoohan finally. he’s been pining after you for years

→ ynverstappen exposed! 

→ liamlawson30 i already told her that so ha

→ user yes but you didn’t tell us that!!

francisca.cgomes i can’t believe you left me for a man

→ ynverstappen the pr team said i had to

→ redbullracing stop exposing us 

landonorris can’t believe it took fake dating for yn to admit to real feelings

→ ynverstappen lando! 

→ liamlawson30 lando knew you liked me?! 

→ user fake dating?! 

→ landonorris oops. now i’m in trouble with everyone 

user anyone else noticed max hasn’t commented? i know we joked that he would run liam off the track but…

→ user oop nevermind

maxverstappen1 just posted

liked by charlesleclerc, redbullracing and others

maxverstappen1 he fell first, she fell harder. and i fell off my chair when i heard that these idiots fake dating led to them actually falling in love 

4,733 comments

ynverstappen i can’t believe you made an entire post with pics of me and my boyfriend. obsessed much 

→ maxverstappen1 worth it to bully you 

→ user boyfriend! we’ve had the use of the word boyfriend! 

redbullracing can’t wait to see our bulls on track next year

→ user i can’t tell if i’m happier for yn and liam content or max and liam teammate content 

user i love when they give max access to his social media 

liamlawson30 all i see is a couple who slays 

→ ynverstappen you look so good as a cozy cone

→ liamlawson30 kachow :)

→ ynverstappen my lightning mcqueen

→ liamlawson30 my sally

→ maxverstappen1 actually she’s more of a mater

danielricciardo stole my seat and my max :( 

user gossip so good that charles leclerc had to follow 

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

A/N: Sorry this took so long. I ended up making it a lot longer - almost made it into two parts - because I had so much angst in here haha. Until I remembered the request wasn’t angsty so had to remove a lot. 

Tag list

@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119

[cutielando]

the last social media au was so cute!! maybe one where george’s gf is a famous romance book author and when they make the relationship public his friends cannot believe posh “arms against the wall 2023 intro package pose” george could be the inspiration for all the smutty scenes his gf is famous for (only if your comfortable of course!)

romance is in her books | g.r.

social media au

my masterlist

Instagram

liked by zendaya, georgerussell63 and 301,584 others

yourusername working on something very special 🌸

view all 50,195 comments

booklover101 YAS BITCHES WE'RE GETTING A NEW BOOK!!!!!

chillypeppers Y/N on her way to releasing yet another banger😮‍💨😮‍💨

zendaya what u cooking bby?😉💞

yourusername something with an extra bit of spice🥵

user1 is nobody else wondering who she's writing the *explicit* scenes about?

user2 lol she most probably has a boyfriend or something

user3 or maybe she's just like any other young woman lmao

lilymhe i'm literally obsessed with the way you write🤤

yourusername thank you baby. i'll let you in on a secret later for this ;)

user4 we all want to be lily right now :((((

landonorris do you ever run out of things to write?

yourusername not really, no

lilyzneimer the book is coming along beautifully ❤️

yourusername thank you honey✨🌸❤️

oscarpiastri did you give her a sneak peek??????????

yourusername ...maybe

oscarpiastri deeply betrayed

georgerussell63 my beautiful girl this comment has been deleted

user5 GEORGE????????

user6 IS GEORGE THE SECRET BOYFRIEND?????

charles_leclerc can't wait to read it

yourusername you’re just like one of the girlies charlie 🌸🌸🌸

user2 the amount of money i spend on her books is so unhealthy but i don’t care. TAKE ALL MY MONEY BABY 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

user3 is it a stand-alone or is the new book going to be part of a series?👀

yourusername i’m planning a new series soon, but my next release is going to be a stand-alone 🌸

user4 i love her, she is the sweetest 🥰🥰

iMessage

george 🩵

i might have just fucked up

y/n ❤️

you're hopeless

george 🩵

do you think people saw the comment?

y/n ❤️

judging by the way my phone has been blowing up, i think they have

george 🩵

i'm sorry, my love

y/n ❤️

it's okay, don't worry. now we can mess with the fans for a bit ;)

Twitter

Instagram

liked by georgerussell63, zendaya and 401,639 others

yourusername “racing hearts” is now yours, my lovelies. this book holds a very dear place in my heart and i hope that it will speak to you like it spoke to me when i first started writing it. thank you to everyone who came to the book signing yesterday, you make my life all that more special ✨❤️🌸💞

view all 98,374 comments

georgerussell63 beautiful book, who were you thinking about when you wrote it?🤔

yourusername you know, just a random Brit

georgerussell63 must be one hell of a guy to get a book of his own

yourusername he really is

zendaya you have outdone yourself once again. reading your books has become a MUST ✨✨✨

yourusername thank you honey 💞💞💞

landonorris you went wild again, didn’t you?

yourusername i might have

landonorris do i even wanna read it?

yourusername honestly? probably not

lilyzneimer it’s even better than what i thought 💞

yourusername i always have a trick or two up my sleeve 😉🌸

charles_leclerc someone should censor you

yourusername where would be the fun in that?

charles_leclerc how does your manager approve of this?

yourmanager i’m one of the girlies 🌸

charles_leclerc that explains it

booklover101 THE WAY I SCREAMED WHILE READING IT HAS ME INSANE

booklover101 YOU DESERVE EVERY AWARD IN THE WHOLE WORLD

chillypepper i have no words. i said it before and i’ll say it again. she is the best author of her generation

user1 never beating the dating allegations now

user2 she literally named her main character RUSSELL, HOW DO PEOPLE STILL THINK HER AND GEORGE AREN’T DATING??????

user3 George is the luckiest man in the world😭😭

user4 he must really rock your world if those scenes are anything like the real thing

yourusername you have no idea 🤭

mercedesamgf1 I couldn't put it down. Amazing work, Y/N!!

yourusername thank you admin 🌸💞💞

liked by yourusername, lilyzneimer and 601,583 others

georgerussell63 Words can't describe how proud I am of you. The way you connect with your readers, the way you give life to every story you write never ceases to amaze me. I'm thankful to be able to watch you do your thing, watch you inspire so many young writers to chase their dreams. I love you 💞 P.S. Yes, I am the inspiration behind the sexy scenes ;) tagged: yourusername

view all 99,281 comments

yourusername your support means everything to me. thank you for always being here for me, helping me through my writer's block and cheering me on. i love you more than you know💞🌸

georgerussell63 i love you more❤️

landonorris i know way too much about your personal life now, mate

georgerussell63 jealous?

landonorris as if

yourusername don't fight boys, what would Russell and Brendan think about you two fighting?

landonorris BRENDAN IS ME?????????

yourusername oops👀

user1 i am in love with their love😮‍💨❤️

user2 going to jump off a cliff, brb

user3 i cannot believe i know stuff about George Russell's sex life👀

user4 George's? HOW ABOUT OUR PRECIOUS LITTLE Y/N'S?

alex_albon simp

georgerussell63 how can i not be? just look at Y/N

yourusername baby🥹💞❤️🌸

alex_albon you two make me sick. i preferred it when you weren't public

georgerussell63 and i preferred it when you shut up

lilymhe we are all in love with Y/N ✨❤️👀

yourusername but you’re the one who has my heart baby 💞💞

georgerussell63 ?????????

yourusername sorry babe 😁💞

mercedesamgf1 Our favorite couple!❤️ liked by yourusername and georgerussell63

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

much appreciated!!

REQUEST HERE

[wosoamazing]

Gone

Summary: Based on this request.

Warnings: Mentions of Death

A/N: This is shorter than I would've liked, and I don't know it I really hit the mark with it. But hopefully you all like it, I also don't know why I had such troubles getting it finished but I did, also thank you to the wonderful anon who helped me with ideas. :)

You were sitting in the locker room when your phone rang, it was your Mum, she never called, she hates you, it must be an accident, you let it go to voicemail, however she rang again.

“Sorry it's my Mum, I should take it,” Alexia nodded but you knew deep down she would be confused.

_

“I’ve got some good news,” she cackled, “Well I guess you won’t think it's good news, your father is dead, he was hit by a car.” She hung up. Your dad was your number one supporter, he gave up so much for you, you really didn’t want to go to Barça and leave him but you did, you spoke to him every night, just last night he was discussing your game today with you.

“Everything okay,” Alexia asked as you walked back in. Alexia found out about your situation one night and took you under her wing, she became like a mother figure to you, so you knew it would be a struggle to hide this from her.

“Yep,” you said, putting up a strong fake front, hoping she believed it.

“Okay,” she replied with a weak smile, you just hoped she had believed you.

This match was for your Dad, you were going to play for him.

In the 80th minute of the game you took a corner, and for the third time that match you had managed to hit the back of the net, you had just made a hat-trick, as you run to your team to celebrate you kiss your hand and put it to your heart whilst pointing to the sky, a celebration that wouldn’t have been understood by a single person in that stadium. 

When the whistle blew, you felt a weight drop on you, as a single tear rolled down your cheek, you immediately panicked, you couldn’t break, you couldn’t break here, in front of thousands of people and your team. So you ran, you sprinted down the tunnel and into the locker room, quickly grabbing your bag before heading straight to your car, the press wasn't there yet thankfully. You ignored Alexia’s cries of your name as she followed after you trying to get you to stop, but you didn't. You jumped into your car and drove off, you could see defeated Alexia in your rearview mirror, as she dragged her feet walking back into the stadium.

_____

You were sitting on your couch, just staring blankly at a spot on your wall, you felt nothing, no emotions, you were just sitting there and starting. Until your ‘peace’ was disturbed by a pounding at the door. You got up and walked towards the door.

You opened the door and saw Alexia standing there, Mapi and Ingrid were behind her.

“Y/N, why did you leave early, you know that is not on, Jonatan is not happy with you, why did you go? You better have a very good excuse.” She yelled at you, you didn’t reply, just stood there giving her your blank stare.

“Bebita?” she says furrowing her brow, growing slightly concerned. You felt hot tears start to prick in your eyes, you felt your throat tighten at the emotion. You opened your mouth trying to say something, anything, but all that left was a choked sob, your knees buckled under you as you collapsed onto the floor, Alexia quickly responded by scooping you up, and sitting on the couch, placing you in her lap. You curled into a ball, trying to hide away from the world.

Alexia held you tightly, rocking slightly as she whispered reassuring words into your ear, sobs wracked your body as the reality of what had happened started to sink deeper in, breaking your heart more with every minute, your body was shaking, your breath was shallow and rapid, soon you felt dizzy.

“Y/N/N, can you take some deep breaths? Follow my lead.” You took a few deep breaths with Alexia.

“What’s wrong?” Alexia asked you, voice laced with concern.

“H-he’s, h-he’s d-de-dead.” You managed to stutter out between sobs.

“Oh Bebita, I’m so sorry, is that why she called?” you nodded, “Why didn’t you tell us?” You just shrugged, you didn’t want to respond to her, you didn’t want to admit why, but she knew and you knew she knew, but you still didn't want to actually admit it and say it out loud. With a tender touch Alexia lifted your head, your gaze met hers, you knew she would feel bad about herself for the reason so you continued to stay silent. “Amor, you can tell us anything.”

“I-I I didn’t want to be a burden, and I-I didn’t want to bring anything up for you before the game” you admitted with a quiet voice before letting out a shaky breath.

“Amor, you could never be a burden to us, you are familia, our familia, and never feel like you need to protect me Amor. It’s my job to protect you, and look out for you, even more so now. I promise you, we will never judge you, we all love you. Never not tell us something that is hurting you, por favour.” Her voice was unwavering, you nodded, Mapi and Ingrid came to sit next to you and Alexia.

“We will always care about you, you can tell us anything, any time no matter how big or small.” Ingrid told you and the other two nodded in agreement.

“I’m sorry,” you said with a small sniffle, Alexia didn't say anything, she just placed a kiss on your forehead.

[arabellasleopardcoat]

You wouldn’t believe the things I have done for her (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Daemon lives a dangerous life. You wish you could find a way to protect him, but you are too afraid of guns. Lucky you, Daemon has a plan.

A/N: Do not try this at home. Requested by the lovely @avalyaaa I am sorry it took me so long, but I wanted to give your request the attention it deserved.

Warnings: Smut. Mafia! Daemon. Gun kink. I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH: GUN KINK. Slight degradation.

You sit quietly in the back of the car. In the front seat sits Harwin, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. He is bored. You can tell by the way he keeps fiddling with things. Changing the radio station, messing with the AC.

Harwin probably misses his old work. It’s not like Daemon needs a bodyguard or a driver. You know it’s more for your protection than his. And while Harwin is no stranger to guarding people who don’t need his protection, you bet the fact that Rhaenyra was fucking him made the prospect much more agreeable.

The AC gets turned off again. You would scold him for it, were it not for the fact you are deadly bored yourself. Daemon’s quick meeting has turned into an hour long one, and you have been instructed to not step out of the car. The only entertainment you have is your phone, and you can only scroll through so many TikToks before wanting to claw your own eyes out.

Instead of continuing to refresh your For you page, you turn your attention back to obsessing over your conversation with Daemon. The shame from your stupidity makes your cheeks heat up.

“I don’t trust them.” Daemon had said, pressing a kiss to your cheek. He often avoided kissing you in the lips whenever you were close to his associates. As if not kissing you could trick them into thinking you were not relevant and convince them not to target you. “They are…. Not the most respectful with women.”

“You don’t trust me, you mean. To handle myself.” And by the Seven, it had even sounded bratty to your ears. You had not meant it like that at all. You had only wanted him to stop using that shitty excuse.

There were women who attended these meetings. You knew it. Hell, you had even met them. And these weren’t sex workers or strippers. These were women who held high positions in the organization. Rhaenyra, who was going to inherit it one day. Mysaria, who ran an informant network. Even Alicent pitched in from time to time. You were tired of being lied to. Sometimes, you craved the more normal boyfriend experience.

“I trust you. I don’t trust them.” Daemon had chuckled at your pout, and given you a pat in the head. “Behave.”

It had felt so dismissive. So humiliating. As if you were a child and not an actual grown woman. You hated arguing with Daemon. There was something about his tone, or his attitude, you were not sure which, that made him sound forever condescending.

You supposed inherited wealth was like that. The Targaryens had been running their schemes for nearly six generations by now. They were royalty by modern standards, even when you didn’t know about their more shady dealings.

It was no use, being upset over it. Daemon was too set in his ways to change. You needed to find a way around your problem, instead of charging right into it. But nothing comes to you at this moment, so you unlock your phone and continue your scrolling.

You save a few recipes you want to try, and like some pet videos. You are thinking of asking Daemon to adopt a puppy. A small breed would suit your apartment better, but you know Daemon. He will probably want the most intimidating dog he can get his hands on. A big, scary doberman could be something you could get behind. You had been feeling unsafe as of late.

A sudden, loud noise makes you jerk on your seat. You start to ask Harwin what’s wrong, but you don’t manage to even form the words. It's happening too fast.

“Get on your knees and do not get up until I say!” Harwin shouts. You do not need further explanations, understanding something is really wrong. You fall into the floor of the car with such haste that your phone is sent flying under the seat.

“…. Whisk the butter and the sugar…” You try to reach for it, but the space is too cramped, and suddenly the car is moving, throwing the phone around. Your knees throb from dropping yourself from the seat too hard, and you try to focus on that and not the way your heart feels like it’s in your throat. A gunshot, you realize. A gunshot. You should be used to them by now, but you still feel afraid.

Harwin drives fast and efficiently. It’s two full blocks before he orders you to get up again. You do so, legs shaking. There is a wet feeling on your knee. Blood. You had scrapped it when you threw yourself on the ground.

“What happened?” You ask him, smoothing your clothes down. Now that your panic isn’t as intense, you feel a pang of guilt. Daemon. Seven Hells, you had left him back there. “Daemon?”

Despite knowing that Harwin’s orders are first and foremost getting you out of danger, you can’t help but feel guilty. You had not even thought to worry about him. He is probably fine, considering the place was filled with Targaryens. He is also more than capable of handling himself. But to be so blinded by your fear that you did not even think of him…

“I got no fucking clue.” He asks, meeting your eyes in the mirror. “I’ll call Daemon, alright?”

“Yeah.” You say, quietly. You grab the seat’s edge and squeeze, as if you could will Daemon to your side by frustration alone. Harwin dials.

“Yeah, we are fine.” Harwin says, smiling at you through the mirror. You know he wouldn’t be so casual if something bad had happened, and so, you give him a thumbs up. Your guilt eases a bit, being replaced by relief. “She is fine, just a bit shaken up.” And he rolls his eyes because Daemon can be a bit overbearing.

“Just trouble with an errand guy.” Harwin explains, once the call is over. “He should be here soon.”

But despite how casual they made it sound, you couldn’t shake the fear and guilt away. It stayed on your mind, nestled like a worm, curling around your brain and threatening to choke it. When the night comes, and Daemon sleeps peacefully by your side, you still think of it. Of how you could die, and he could too. And there wouldn’t be a thing to be done.

You sit up on your side of the bed, letting the sheet pool around your waist. You hug your knees to your chest. The night is chilly, and the blackout curtains Daemon insists on having to ensure the room is pitch black. It only serves to disquiet you further.

There is a gun on Daemon’s nightstand. Should there be one in yours? His work is dangerous enough to warrant it. Enough to warrant you having a bodyguard, why not a weapon of your own?

You weren’t going to let him die. Nor were you going to leave him behind, like today. This was the twenty-first century, not the Middle Ages. You were tired of cowering back and acting the damsel in distress. If someone is going to try to hurt the man you love, you sure will fight back.

Daemon was yours. As much as you were his, and so, it wasn’t fair that only he protected you. You needed to be able to have his back, or at least, not be a distraction in a fight.

Your decision is not just something you can communicate to Daemon, though. He is not going to like it. You know him. Daemon is a bit old-fashioned like that. He likes gender roles a little too much for it. He is your protector and provider, and you are supposed to just be sweet and warm. The thought of you using a gun will probably cause him a heart attack.

And the thing is, Daemon doesn’t just style himself your protector. He does an outstanding job of it. He has managed to keep you away from the nastier side of his business. Never have you seen a dead body, or any of his associates beyond his family. So if you hope to achieve this, you need to be smart about it.

You decide you will tell him first thing in the morning when he is barely awake. He will be more susceptible that way. And happy with your plan, you finally manage to catch a few hours of sleep.

The next morning, you get started making breakfast with only one thing in mind. Convincing Daemon. You are barefoot, wearing only one of his shirts. It’s basic manipulation, and he will probably able to tell, but you hope it will soften him to your cause.

It’s when you are scrambling the eggs that he emerges, lured by the smell of fried bacon and a fresh pot of tea. Daemon wraps himself around you, still warm with sleep.

“Morning, love.” His voice is still a bit hoarse with sleep. He nuzzles your neck and hums, pleased. “Couldn’t I convince you to come back to bed?”

You laugh.

“Not really. The eggs are almost done.” You take the pan off the stove, letting it cool. “I would like to learn how to shoot.”

Daemon stiffens. You can feel him pull back from you. It’s not a physical thing, his arms remain wrapped around your waist, but his voice becomes colder and meaner. He is fully awake now.

“And why, in the Seven Hells, would you need to learn?”

“To feel safer.” You answer, keeping your tone steady.

“Do you not feel safe already? I could hire you another bodyguard.” Daemon hugs you slightly tighter. You lean into the counter a little bit, and sigh. Then, you detangle yourself from him.

“I don’t want a bodyguard. I need to learn how to shoot.” You state again, calmly. You turn to look at him. He looks more annoyed than angry.

“Sweetheart. You know that is not the best idea.” Daemon pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Why not?” You cross your arms over your chest.

“You are sensitive. You cry when animals die in movies.” He complains, stepping a bit closer to you. Daemon pours you a cup of tea and plates the eggs. “Go sit. I’ll wrap this up.”

You give him a sullen look but obey, watching him cut and toast the bread just in the way you like. You sit by the kitchen’s island, watching him work. Daemon is only wearing his underwear. You don’t think he owns something that resembles pajamas. Targaryens always run hot, or so they say.

Disappointing yourself, you let yourself be distracted by the view. You watch the muscles on his back shift and move as he finishes breakfast for you. You are mesmerized by the elegance of his every movement.

He is delicious, you think to yourself. You want to climb him like a tree. Despite the slight age difference, Daemon is more handsome than other men you have met. He is a bit vain, sure, but his efforts are worth it.

It’s only after he sits next to you that you remember what you were doing. You blame it on the lack of sleep.

“So?”

“You are my woman. It’s my duty to protect you. I’ll keep you safe.” Daemon rubs your shoulders, comfortingly. His voice sounds apologetic, a denial despite the soft tone he is using. “You know I keep you well away from danger.”

And he does. Not only Harwin and him have talked protocols, but Daemon has also ensured you would be protected even in the event of his death or imprisonment. You have numerous properties to your name, a few fake passports and three hidden bank accounts in different tax havens. None of which would be taken away if the two of you break up, Daemon has clearly stated. He loves you enough to want you to be protected even if you don’t love him anymore.

“I don’t like being powerless.”

“I seem to remember you do.” He squeezes your thigh, playfully. Your breath shifts despite yourself. You cover it by taking a sip of your tea and leveling a faux glare at him.

“I know.” Daemon kisses your nose. “I like that you don’t know how to shoot. That you are clean from this world.”

“It won’t sully me.” You argue because it’s a silly thing to think. It’s not like you are going to start shooting people or running illegal gambling rings. You just want to be able to defend yourself if something happens. And perhaps Daemon. If he doesn't feel too emasculated, this ridiculous man of yours.

“If I wanted a woman who knew how to shoot I would still be with Rhaenyra.” He complains.

“Plenty of women know how. I am not…” You rub at your eyes, tiredly. You want him to understand nothing is going to change between the two of you. “I do not want to go to your stupid meetings or meet your associates for dinner. I just want to know how to defend myself if something happens.”

“And I am saying you don’t need to because nothing is going to happen.” Daemon’s voice turns firmer. Now you can tell he is beginning to get angry, so you reach for his hand and squeeze.

“But if it does? If one night we wake up and there is a gun to our faces? Then what? Do I just let you die for me?” You allow your voice to break in the last part, letting him truly see your anguish. It is a fear of you that has lived on too long. You need this. You need to be able to defend both of you if something happens.

“Oh, sweetheart.”

It gets you to the firing range. Daemon takes you there in the middle of the week, hoping to inconvenience the least amount of people with him booking the entire place.

Your first impression of it is that it’s nothing like in the movies. There are neat little booths with circular targets instead of human shaped ones. You had expected only utilitarian decoration, harsh white lighting and white walls. Instead, the place looks well maintained and expensive. You should have expected so, considering this is Daemon you are talking about.

“Your first lesson…” Daemon says, eyeing you distrustfully. You stare right back at him. “Will be on safety.”

He takes two bulletproof vests out of a hanger, as well two pairs of earmuffs.

“These are protection gear, meant to be used each time you are practicing. And hopefully…” Daemon passes the bulletproof vest over your head. You let him do so, lifting your arms when he instructs you. The vest is heavier than you expect, and more solid too. It feels like what you wear when you are getting an x-ray. “You will use the vest too if you ever fire a gun outside here.”

“And not the earmuffs?”

“You should wear them to protect your ears, especially if you are firing many rounds. But you never see people wearing these because they are heavy-duty protection. In a real fight, you wouldn’t be able to hear your surroundings. Gunshots are pretty loud. So are gunfights.”

“Is that why you are losing your hearing?” You sass, with a grin. “I thought it was just your old age.”

“Oh, shut up. Little brat.” Daemon smacks your ass, playful. It doesn’t even hurt, but you jump and squeal in faux outrage. He laughs at your antics, and it does make you feel better about forcing him to teach you this.

“Should we do the whole…?” You gesture vaguely, trying to reference the classical movie or book montage where the female lead and the love interest stand very close, under the excuse to fix her posture. Daemon shakes his head.

“What is even that?” You would call him an old man for missing your reference, but you know he is sensitive about his age. Besides, you are not a great mime either. “No. You are going to stand with your legs and shoulders the same width apart and a proper posture. No slouching!”

“You know, not all of us grew up with a tutor chasing us and screaming for proper posture.” You grumble, but comply with his orders.

“Perhaps if you had, you wouldn’t need all those Pilates and Yoga classes you so enjoy.” Daemon argues right back. He circles you and pushes a bit at your hips. You try to loosen them. “Perhaps my cards would not explode then.”

“Shut up. It’s not like you don’t reap the benefits.”

Your good humor disappears when Daemon places a gun on the counter in front of you. You go quiet, suddenly unsure of your choice. He shows you how to charge it and how to put the safety on and off. You pay him all of your attention, feeling a bit numb. Most of the details about it fly over your head, despite your attempts to memorize them.

“Alright. I think you are ready for your first try.” Daemon says, handing you the gun. You grab it with trembling hands. You adjust your stance and ensure the muzzle is pointing down, and that you are not gesturing wildly with it. He puts your earmuffs on, and then his.

The world around you feels muffled. You swear you can hear your heartbeat, with how silent everything is. The gun in your hands is throwing you off. It looks odd. These can’t be your hands. You feel like you are not actually there, but watching the scene unfold from outside, watching someone else about to shoot.

Daemon adjusts your grip with his hands, casual about his proximity to the loaded weapon. You stiffen as soon as you feel him approach you, worried about accidentally shooting him.

“Come on.” He mouths, impatiently. You lift the gun, take the safety off, and aim. You pull the trigger, and it is with an awful noise and jerk, that you fire for the first time. The shot goes wide, hitting the wall next to the target.

Daemon taps your shoulder and gestures for you to go again. He watches your every move. His expression betrays nothing. If you are going at it the wrong way, you wouldn't be able to tell.

You repeat the motion, flinching at the noise. Even with the earmuffs it’s loud. It reminds you of that day in the alley, and makes your stomach clench. Daemon signals for you to put the gun down, and you do so, glad that it’s over. You can’t believe you thought you could actually do this. You feel so stupid. He was right, you are too soft.

Daemon can probably tell you are getting too in your head. He removes your earmuffs and pulls you in for a hug. The vests make it awkward, but you feel comforted by his solidness next to you.

“You did great, sweetheart.” He lies, and kisses your temple. You feel so disappointed you could cry. A laugh bubbles out of you, a bit hysterical.

Daemon tsks. He reaches for the gun and deftly discharges it.

“Come on.” He says, kissing your cheek. “I know what your problem is.”

“Yeah?” You ask him, a bit doubtful. You don’t want to feel any sort of hope, just in case that he is mistaken. Giving up so easily might be childish, yet you had not expected this to be so hard. After all, like half the people that Daemon knew could do it.

“You have to learn to love the gun.” He places it back on your hand and steps up behind you. It seems like you are doing the movie thing after all. He kicks your legs a bit, encouraging you to shift your stance.

“Love the gun?”

“You keep looking at it like it’s a weapon of mass destruction.” Daemon laughs, and mouths along your nape. You shiver. It’s an almost Pavlovian reaction by now. When Daemon’s voice gets all low and husky, and he holds you like that, your body knows it’s time for sex. It’s very inappropriate. But conditioned as you are, you can’t stop the throb of arousal between your thighs. “Stop looking like you are horrified by it.”

He fixes your grip around the gun. He steadies your hand.

“Shoot.”

You obey, pulling the trigger. The gun clicks, but nothing happens. It’s unloaded.

“Good.” Daemon says, and lightly bites your shoulder. “Again.”

You repeat the motion. He has you do it over and over again, until you no longer flinch when pulling the trigger. When you are fully desensitized to the sound, Daemon takes the gun from you.

“Great job.” He says, placing the gun right on your face. “Now kiss it.”

“Excuse me?” You stare at Daemon, sure that he must be joking. Kissing the gun? No way. But one look at his face, at the amused curve of his lips, and the mischievous glint in his eyes, tell you that he is serious.

“You heard me.” Daemon chuckles, a bit darkly. You understand then that this is both for his amusement and a punishment. He gets off on humiliating others, that you know. And he had not liked that you had forced him into giving you shooting lessons. He now intends to bring you down a few pegs. “Kiss the barrel.”

You scrunch up your face. You got your pride, too. Despite knowing that submitting to his whims is easy and will probably pacify him for a while, you can’t help but resist. Your whole body rebels at the idea of accepting such an obvious power play.

“Come on, don’t be like that. You owe me.” Daemon tilts your head up, placing a finger under your chin. He makes a show of cooing over your pout, before leaning in to kiss you.

“I don’t!” You move your head away, denying him. It’s a bit cruel, and it makes him frown, which you consider a win.

“You so do. I didn’t want to teach you, you know. At least give me good jerk off material.” He pouts at you, and you can’t help but smile a little. He is ridiculous.

It is part of why you love him. Daemon is young in spirit, if not in body, and he makes you feel younger too. Giddy and willing to do silly things. Silly things like leaning in and kissing the barrel of a gun.

The metal is cold under your lips, hard and unyielding. Daemon makes a pleased noise and pulls you in for a kiss. You can feel him smile against your mouth, before trying to deepen it. Playfully, you nip at him, until it is him who yields and opens up for you.

It is then that he presses the cold barrel against your nape. The feeling of the gun against your skin makes you tense and jerk, giving him once again the upper hand. With the control of the kiss back in his hands, he pulls you closer.

You feel yourself slowly starting to become aroused. One of Daemon’s hands finds your hip, squeezing the flesh there. His gesture is both possessive and greedy. Something swoops in your belly, dark and demanding. You want all his attention on you, you want him all for you.

Making out with Daemon is a full-bodied experience. It shouldn’t surprise you, then, that he starts to gently run the muzzle of the gun down your neck. At first, you don’t notice, too caught up on how close both of you are. Your chest is flush against his, and the feeling of his body against yours makes you whimper, before you realize what game is he playing.

“Daemon.” You warn, annoyed. He gives you a shit eating grin.

“I am just getting the two of you better acquainted. My best girls.” Daemon leans in and kisses behind your ear. He takes his time, making out with the shell of it. He is cautious to do all the right things to make you tremble against him. Yet, you can’t seem to forget about the gun, running down your sternum, between your breasts.

The muzzle gets caught against your clothes. Daemon uses it to push one of the sleeves of your top a little aside, to be able to lavish the skin there with kisses. You only feel the metal against your skin for a second, but it makes you think about how it would feel against your naked skin. Would the cold make your hairs stand up on edge, and your nipples pebble? Or would it warm up to your temperature?

The thought makes your breath hitch, and your panties even wetter.

“There is no one here.” You say, quietly. “If you were to take off my shirt…”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Daemon grins, encouraging you to lean against the counter of the firing range. “You devious little thing.”

He drops to his knees in front of you, carefully taking your clothing off. You watch him move between your legs, helping you widen your stance. Daemon kisses a path from your ankles towards your knees, mouthing along as if having the finest of banquets. His kisses feel scorching against your skin, and you can’t help but jut your hips slightly, trying to command him into touching you.

Daemon smiles at you, cheekily. He then bites your inner thighs, scratching just enough to make you arch in pleasure-pain. When you are just about to hike one of your legs over his shoulder, he sucks your clit inside his mouth, and it’s then that you feel it. The cold barrel of the gun, pressing along your inner thighs.

You moan. Daemon laughs.

“You little whore.” It sounds fond. He eats you out without any finesse, slurping noisily. The thought of anyone else being able to overhear this makes you embarrassed, so you try to keep quiet. Your eyes close, hands squeezing around the edge of the counter.

Daemon is not trying to bring you any pleasure. His movements and touches are too methodical for it. He presses a finger inside your hole, then another. Then it is scissoring them and shushing you with soft licks to your clit when you complain at the slight sting.

Any pleasure you get out of it is incidental. Instead, Daemon is getting you ready for something. And this time, you know it’s not his cock. The thought fills you with dread and arousement in equal parts. How will it feel? Metal doesn’t give the same way flesh does. But the thought of having a gun, Daemon's, inside you, makes your hips jerk.

“Impatient, aren’t you?” He pulls away, reappearing from between your legs. “Fuck. I don’t know if I want to see your face or your greedy little hole when I put it inside.”

You look at him. His hair is sticking up in all directions, but his smile is absolutely ferocious.

“My face. Just in case…” You reach for his shoulder and squeeze, gently. Despite how arousing you think the whole thing is, you are still hesitant. Sometimes, things don’t feel as you imagine they would. You don’t want this to be disappointing.

Daemon seems to understand, despite the fact that you don’t verbalize it.

“I’ll talk you through it.” He says, kindly. He then spreads your folds a little and presses the tip of the gun against your hole.

You yelp. Your grip on his shoulder turns punishing. It feels pleasant, as penetration often does, but there is a foreign quality to it as well. The gun is wide, and metal doesn’t give as flesh does. You feel as if you are rooted tp the spot by it, being impaled with each inch Daemon presses inside you.

“You are doing so well. Good girl. My little girl.” He presses a kiss to your stomach. He keeps rubbing at your clit until you relax around the barrel. It’s only then that he attempts to fuck you with it. You clench at his shoulders, overwhelmed, and moan.

It’s confusing. The ridges of it feel good, catching against your hole. The metal slowly starts to warm up, not feeling as strange as before. Daemon keeps steadily sucking your clit.

The pleasure builds. So does your need. You start to move your hips along with his thrusting, trying your best to reach your orgasm. So of course, Daemon pulls away from your clit.

“You are taking it so well.” Daemon praises, voice husky with desire. “Your pussy swallows the gun right up.”

You moan, almost without realizing. You are so close it itches. But moving your hips up and down isn’t enough. You need more.

“Daemon, please.” You beg, near tears. Never before have you been this frustrated.

“Who would have known? You are such a hungry little whore.” Daemon smirks. The crudeness of his words makes you gasp. You feel smaller than you have ever felt, yet somehow, it makes you feel deliciously dirty. He is not wrong. It’s embarrassing, how you are humping the gun he holds, but you can’t stop. “You don’t think, you are so desperate you would fuck anything. Do anything, just to fill your greedy holes.”

“Please. Fuck.” You sob. Daemon licks his thumb and starts rubbing your poor, abused clit. He keeps fucking you with the gun, building you up and up, towards the orgasm you so desperately crave. You come with a scream so loud, you thank he has booked the whole place for only yourselves.

Turns out, you don’t hate guns as much as you thought.