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gremlingottoosilly · 10 months

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[If you need to be mean] chapter 2

Chapter 1

Konig decided to meet his new favorite civilian at the cafe you work at. Unfortunately for both of you, you're both socially awkward. TW: Konig being a huge pervert, Canon-Typical violence, Dub-Con, Innocence kink, Age difference(Konig in his yearly 40, Reader in young 20)

Pairing: Konig x fem!Reader Tags: Fluff, Power Imbalance, Hurt/Comfort, Size Kink, Possessive Konig, Yandere Konig, Creepy scary stalker Konig, written mostly from Konig's perspective

— Did something good happen, colonel? You are practically shining.

Horangi always had this special ability of telling nonsense with the most serious face and deep voice. He also was the only one in his unit to ever be brave enough to joke with his superior – even though all the other KorTac members usually don’t risk their asses to be put on fire list because of some silly joke. He is the closest König has to a friend – and it’s kinda sad, actually, that a broken gambling addict is the only person who can read his emotions so well, even with his hood and permanently sour expression.

But something good did happen – you happen, of course.

He spend a few days of self-reflecting, drinking and punching training manekens in the gym, trying so fucking hard to put your adorable civillian face out of his mind. You were out of sight alright, but the way your features would get distorted into something even more adorable every time he closed his eyes, was concerning. He dealt with those little obsessions before – nothing that a few good rounds of jerking off until he would feel nothing but emptiness and hatred to himself couldn’t handle. He surely can’t fall that deep down, he only saw you for like an hour and it was literally three days ago!

— I read your reports about the last terrorist encounter. Good job, Horangi.

— And I heard about that civilian girl you pulled, sir. Thought we are bringing those to the police, not their houses.

— I had to make sure she wasn't a spy.

— And she wasn’t?

König thinks – would be far easier if he would have an official, legal reason to keep you locked up on the base without the right to come out. Would be far easier for him to just think about you as an enemy, so he would have normal reasons for thinking about you constantly, and not feeling guilty. It’s normal to think so much about your enemies – this is what keeps you alive on the field, if you can determine their shortcomings early and make sure that you can fight them. He would love having you as an enemy – it would at least give him some info before starting obsession over little ol’ you.

— No.

— That would give us at least some lead to the terrorist cell. Feels like all locals are protecting them from it.

— I understand your frustration. But at least they are not cutting our pay.

— We might as well rebel if they’d try to.

— We are not stepping on terrorist’s route.

— I was joking, sir. Only thing that’s left here except for card games.

Horangi hates stationing in this country as much as König is – and, given that he is a sergeant and doesn’t have as much rank expectations, can talk about this openly. This operation is perfect except for the lack of intel, lack of action and lack of basically anything to do – the local forces are handling minor threats, while mercs here are mostly to show off how the government has money to hire them. KorTac would pay for actually having to fight some bad guys around here – but the bigger ones are hiding and lower ones are already getting tracked down by the local military.

The only interesting thing to do, seemingly, is to obsess over local girls – and König thought he is better than this.

But he isn’t losing sleep over thinking about how scared and fragile you looked that night. Especially not even going to think about how adorable your little pout was, and the way your hands were trembling. He definitely doesn't want to know every tiny detail about your life, what you like and what you hate, what is your favorite position in bed and the color of underwear you are currently wearing – or even if you are wearing one. And he isn’t some sort of creep that would spend an obnoxiously long amount of time registering on social media – god, he is too old for this shit, it literally feels even more humiliating than his whole school experience – just so he can find your accounts and get instant masturbation material.

You really shouldn’t post so much half-naked photos – yes, this is a reel from your last summer vacation and yes, this swimsuit looks beautiful on you, but have you ever considered that some creep(not someone like him, he is palming himself very respectfully) would use those photos as a way to get themself off? Terrible, scary, he can’t wait for you to post some new photos – maybe in something that he would buy you, way skimpier and more expensive, so he could protect you from those people.

He looks at your posts about work – and he hates this stupid blue bird app because it never works for him, always filled with some assholes who are trying to argue with literally everyone, and the way he can’t even see your posts properly because of the weird ads. No, he doesn’t need a “Thing that would make your dick longer” he literally has a problem with making it smaller. No, he doesn’t need some dumb T-shirt even though he kinda reflects with the funny pun about pokemons and would love to wear something containing his major interest even though it would look ridiculous on a 6 '10 killing machine.

But König reads all of your short posts about the way you hate working in customer service, and his hand is almost slipping to the ad about wedding rings. You hate your job, he hates his – practically soulmates, even though he doesn’t really hate the killing part of his employment, he just doesn’t want to be in charge of people and making them steal the fun of destroying. He would, however, agree to get as many ranks as possible if that would mean providing for you. If that would allow him to be by your side and listen to your sweet voice, he would agree for the next promotion even if higher ups would want him to make some PR wawes and become a fucking fashion model.

But he is completely sane about you. Totally normal. Absolutely nothing is wrong with him when he can’t even think about visiting you in real life, but he leaves a like on every of your posts in every social media he has – you have terrible online safety habits by the way, he can already see what the inside of your apartment looks like, your place of work from three different angles, and how the front door of your apartment is held together by a very easy to destroy lock. He could snatch it in one deliberate kick, not even speaking about just shooting it. Not like he would need to, he wants you to be with him willingly. Or, at least, don’t fight him too much in case he would actually lose his patience and do something drastic.

It has already been three days and he feels like he is going crazy. He had those things before, overthinking about tiniest details in someone he never truly knew, but even then he’d understand that he can’t be with them – it could be his school crushes that were, ironically, crushed because of his anxiety. It might be some casual flings with his fellow soldiers that would either get killed in the field or never happen because it would be fraternization. Some random people he saw at the airport and already imagined life with multiple kids and a dog. He always knew he had a problem – but it was never like this before. Never dangerous.

The problem is – he knows that he can have you.

Maybe not in a traditional way, he doubts that you would just marry him on the spot, but he can court you at least. He can shower you with gifts or ridiculous tips at your job, he can just snatch you away and leave you as his perfect little bedmate. He can make his men kidnap you, and while it is inhumane and you don’t deserve this, he would calm you down – and then have his happily ever after.

He knows that he can have you – and it drives him crazy. He could stop himself previously, when he didn’t have anything for himself to be considered desirable – but now, with his rank and all the new opportunities and money it brings, he can’t stop but fantasize.

You under him, panting and blushing, lips puffy from kisses, skin glazed from sweat and marked with his teeth.

You under him, so wonderfully tight, not letting him go even for an inch – and you are perfectly taking him, no matter how gigantic he is.

You under him, smiling, cuddling after a long night – every night after a mission, where he could spend his free time deep in your body, listening to your melodic moans and little whines.

You under…

— Can I…can I take your order, sir?

He is a disgusting human being because lives of thousand people are on a stake, he would just doom them all if he wouldn’t find those terrorists soon – and he wastes time on sitting in this tiny ass cafe, trying to place himself on the small seat while being all too nervous to just talk to you. Like a person. Of course he had to go to your shift – he already determined which days you were working because it increased the number of angry “I hate my job and want to kill my manager” posts on that dumb social media, and he knows which hours you work at – of course it’s almost night time, the closing shift, because he simply can’t have himself not worry about you.

He is a creep, weirdo and all that words in a song that he’s been blasting in his tiny headphones all of these days because he can smell the sweetness of your perfume and the way you are munching on the pen you are using to write his order. Oh, yes, order. He is supposed to order something, he can’t just give you money for how adorable you look in that white apron – even though you are absolutely stunning and should get money.

God, he would murder everyone in this building just for them to never look at your legs again.

God, he would bury himself between them if only you’d allow him to.

— Sir, is everything okay?

He served in the military for far longer that you lived, probably. Most of his life, he got used to being referred to as something honorable, or referring to other people like that – and he never thought that just being referred to as “sir” would make his dick twitch in his pants. He crosses his legs, hoping not to get too imposing – he already towers over the tiny table like a giant he is, barely even fitting in it. He thinks he has a healthy amount of self-control – then he looks at you again, and thanks all the gods he knows for the mask he is wearing – at least under the black surgeon piece and dark glasses you won’t really see his blush. Or that little twitching in his eyes that is indicating danger.

— Sorry, I…can I, um, have a coffee? Bitte…please, I mean.

He hates how nervous he is – like high school again, asking his crush out just to be ridiculed. But you look perfect like this – controlled environment, you can’t just laugh at him and say that he is a weird nerd from another class, you have a manager who is controlling of such behavior. He would never tell on you, of course, he wants you to be happy, even if this job makes you the most miserable – even though he kinda thinks of you as a weak for this, his job literally involves killing people and he doesn't argue that much!

But you giggle – sweet, innocent sound, it drives him crazy even more than he previously was. It doesn’t feel like those girls at school – yes, he still can’t let that go, even though his therapist says he has to – and he loses all control at how beautiful you sound. He wants to take you away right now, pay you for your workplace however you get them, and just use you as he wants – no matter how socially unacceptable. He protects this country, he has the right for a little prize, right? No, this would be terrible, he shouldn’t just harass sweet little civilians like you, he should…

— What type of coffee, sir? Do you want some dessert?

This is a typical question, he was at cafes and coffee shops a thousand times but, for some reason, it feels almost like you are teasing him. You bite the end of your pen with those adorable teeth of yours – he wants to feel it on his fingers, he wants you to leave bite marks all over his body as a sign of marking him as yours. He smiles under his mask, hoping that you would somehow feel it – how happy you make him feel, how hard it’s for him not to lose control.

— No. Just coffee.

— Sugar?

He would like some sugar, of course – but the one he wants is probably not for sale, even though that adorable white apron of yours makes you look like a candy. He would love to unwrap you from those silly clothes and devour what belongs to him for the right of protector, but he knows how scared you might be. He is not a good person, he killed more people that he could count – countless fathers, sons, mothers, he shouldn’t even think about having a right for a family of his own after all of this. He is not a good person and his moral code changes with every kill he gets – but for hell sake, he wants to be nice with you. You deserve it, he knows. More than he is, for sure.

König doesn’t really like sugary stuff, it was always too childish, made him too energetic, disrupted his very peculiar way of eating things. Sweets makes him only more hungry, makes him crave more, and he wants to be as serious as possible – so he usually drinks and eats stuff that is no tastier than a pile of dry sand. But he responds before he can think, too focused on that shiny lipgloss you have on your lips. He would lick and bite it all – soon, he hopes.

— Ja. Thank you.

— Good choice, sir.

Your lips are curling into a small, shy smile and he likes sugar now. He isn’t sure if you are telling everyone that their order is a good choice, maybe you just want to get more tips, but he hopes that maybe, he is special. Maybe there is something nice happening to him after all. A small reward for not being a total monster on the last mission he had, even though he could. He can’t do anything but to stare at you, his only saving grace is the dark lenses of his glasses – he can’t wear his hood in civil situations, unfortunately, people would stare, stare, stare and that would make him want to pull their eyes out.

But you smile and he smiles also, even if you can’t see it. He is looking at your legs and, fuck, he is a disgusting old creature that preys upon younger women because he never had a positive experience before. He is a total creep and a monster that should be put down already – but he stares at your legs under that waitress dress, and he would pay your manager a few thousand Euros to cut the length of your skirt in half.

Then he sees all the others looking at you the same way – old people, young people, there aren’t a lot of guests at this time in the evening, most people are afraid of going into public places while the war on terrorism is going on. There aren’t a lot of people while it’s almost closing time, but he doesn't even want to think about all the other men looking at you like this. Devouring you with their eyes, probably leaving sleazy comments as you go through the small cafe, just as overworked as your other coworkers. He wants to take you from here.

You don’t deserve people looking at you like you aren’t even a person – only he can look at you respectfully, stripping you with his eyes. He can be soft for you, can be perfect – if you would just let him.

König doesn’t want to be a creep around you, but he was looking at your legs for five minutes already, picturing the way your body would look under all of these clothes, and his cock gets painfully hard. He thanks himself for wearing normal, baggy pants, not something tighter – at least his embarrassment is completely covered by his clothes.

— Here is your coffee. Anything else?

You look nervous, of course – but he seems way softer than he was a couple days ago, at night. The absence of his creepy mask is obviously helping, and because he is sitting, you don’t have to tilt your head too high, causing your neck to stretch uncomfortably. He looks awkwards, like a big dog that still tries to fit into his old bed, and it causes you to smile a little bit more. You made sure to place a couple of sugar cubes on the plate, so he could decide for himself, if he wants to use them all – but the mere thought of that giant of a man, a colonel, hardened soldier liking something silly and sweet is making you giggle.

He looks way softer than he was that night, and you can almost forget about how scared you were – how you were thinking that this would be the end for you, that one, overthinking part of your mind already making up the scenarios of getting martial lawed because of the broken curfew. You can even see his hair – and fight the urge to touch it a little. He is still who-knows-how-old and still a military presence in your peaceful country.

You still want to ruffle his hair.

He still wants to take your clothes off and make you his.

— Nein, thank you.

He stares at the cup for a good few seconds – if he wants to drink, he needs to actually take it off. He has many scars on his face, and his mouth sometimes feels like it has more dead skin than alive one – he doesn’t want to attract attention. Some people are already staring at his badge and how awkward a giant man like him looking in that cozy, tiny place – but he also wants you to see how much pain he can withstand without getting killed. How he can protect you from anything because there literally isn’t anything he won’t do for you. You would appreciate a man with scars, it’s a sign of bravery, right?

Then he thinks about all the times he would take off his mask and how people around him would look at him – with pity, with fear, with disgust sometimes even though he is certain that his face isn’t as deformed as some other parts of his body. He even almost managed to grow a beard once! Then he had to scrub it all off because hair was growing in very uneven patches and he looked like something crawled on his chin and died.

König fought in countless battles, spent his youth training to be the best killer possible, took part in many major conflicts and killed hundreds of people while feeling nothing but recoil. He isn’t afraid of anything – except for talking to people sometimes, maybe, and even now he is trying to work on it with his therapist, instead of just killing anyone who looks at him funny. He isn’t afraid of the dark, of death, of uncertainty in his life. But he is afraid of you looking at him unmasked and thinking that you, in fact, find him disgusting.

You almost want to take your time to look at what he will do – is he going to take off his mask? Is he going to drink right through the fabric? You have too much work to just stay at his table and stare, even if you want to – but you are trying to give him occasional glances as he just…sits at his table. Not even moving, just staring at the cup and sometimes moving his head to look at you – or just ornaments at the wall behind you. Yes, probably the ornament.

König sits at the table and, well, he doesn’t even want to drink his coffee because just looking at the way your ass sways under that terribly short skirt is enough to set him on fire. He wants to take you home with him – even though his home is all the way up in Austria. He would take you, you probably wouldn’t even be mad at you – you could be a perfect little family. He already waited too long to start one, never finding anyone who would win his heart for a long run but he was sure that this three-days-obsession would last long. He isn’t sure, however, if he likes it or not.

He ended up not drinking at all – he knows that he can’t just waste multiple hours, he already got his lieutenants covering the spot with paper work while their commander is away at searching for the love of his life. He wants to be with you longer, probably walk you home again and make sure to protect you from any creeps that would want to attack. He can’t have that, it’s obvious – he is a colonel, unfortunately, he is still on the hunt for those terrorists, he can barely give himself an hour of free time these days.

He already indulged in his fantasies too much when he folds a 100 Euros banknote and puts it into the bill – not sure about how much money it is here, not wanting to give you any trouble with exchanging currency, he just hopes that would be enough for you to at least not worry about food for a few days. Or buy yourself something nice – what girls like these days? Guns, books, some fancy lip gloss, a hat for their adorable little turtles? He would buy you a pet turtle, he always wanted one as a kid – right before his father said that all lizards are products of sinful corporations and a lazy pet like a turtle, unlike a giant dog breed, is completely useless and unmanly.

He doesn’t want to be here when you’ll get the bill – he is too afraid that he didn’t gave you enough, that you'd be disappointed. He would love to give you more, of course, but he doesn’t want to just shove you the money like you are some sort of cheap whore – he wants to give you gifts, something meaningful, to steal you from poverty altogether. König is an expert in infiltration and escaping arts, he can exit the location without anyone noticing a thing, even with his size – and then you look at him, directly into his eyes, covered by sunglasses – and your face is twisted in shock as you realize what exactly he left you.

— Wait, sir! Please, I…god, I will get you the change right now, I’m so sorry, it’s closing shift, I…I’m sorry, I completely forgot…

You are almost begging him to stop and let you give him his money, a honorable deed really – but all he can think of is how nice you would look on your knees, begging him to fuck you already. How perfect you would look all whiny and spoiled, asking him for something expensive, whatever your cute head would want. You would look so complete on his lap, tugging on his shirt and asking your daddy for a new toy. You would…

— It was a tip. Take it.

He wants to be able to tell you how perfect you look, how he wants to just throw you over his shoulder in a totally non-creepy way and make you his little wifey. How he would take multiple months of leave to just be with you, marry you, breed you. He wants to have a way with words, but they are useless to him – he can’t even say he likes you, it’s embarrassing, he is almost forty, he got his rank as youngest colonel in history of KorTac, he can literally have almost everything he wants – except for basic social skills.

He feels like a creep, an old man trying to steal that perfect girl from the shiny world, and he hates himself for it – but then you blush and he can almost convince himself that yeah, you like that creep too.

— I…shit, I mean, sorry…thank you, sir.

— Don’t wander at night again.

He feels like a scolding father and you giggle again, too innocent and naive to understand his thoughts.

— I won’t. Promise.

He then slowly leans closer, puts a hand on your shoulder again – goosebumps are running on your skin. His head is near yours now, he is whispering in your ear – and you are almost sure that you shouldn’t have come closer to him like this, that it’s unprofessional from your side, that everyone is staring at you. They are – and you try to ignore it, but…

— Wear shorts under your skirt next time. Never know who might look at your legs like that.

You would slap him here and there. You would scream and run away right now, but for some stupid, dumb, completely terrifying reason, you…almost like how protective he sounds. And the money he gave you is also helping – even if just a little bit.

König looks at the way you blush even more, and he knows already that he won’t ever let you go.

Tag list: @iwritesjud3

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#call of duty #cod x reader #cod x you #cod #konig mw2 #konig x reader #reader insert #yandere #yandere konig #yandere x reader #yandere cod #fem reader

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stayteezdreams · 8 days

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Dance Of Hearts

Plot: Returning for your yearly job at the Dance Camp, you prepare yourself for the nuisance that is Song Mingi. Will you be able to survive his games again? Or will you finally fall victim to his charms?

Pairing: Dance Teacher!Mingi x Dance Teacher!Reader (Gn!Reader)

Request: What about enemies to lovers with mingi, they’re both dance teachers at sleep away summer camp and he’s the menace I think he will be around the reader while reader tries to deny all the rumors the kids come up with about them both < sort of started out like this then went off the rails Requested By: Anon

Warnings: Mingi gives off sort of annoying fratboy vibes in the beginning and then becomes a KDrama level simp. So enjoy that whiplash I guess.

A/n: More like frenemies to lovers. This is my first time writing an au like this so I hope you like it! It turned out really long but I really enjoyed writing it!

Words: 5.9k

As the landscape grew more and more familiar, nervous and excited butterflies filled your stomach. As happy as you were to return to the camp, you had a few reasons to dread it as well. Lack of sleep, mosquitoes, sunburns.

But the main reason being, Song Mingi.

Mingi was another dance teacher around your age who had joined the camp about four years ago. You truly believed he made it his mission every season to irritate you as much as he could in the two weeks he had. Whether it be through challenging you, teasing you, or flirting with you, it was constant.

You and Mingi had an unusual relationship. The other staff and students called it a love-hate relationship, while many made bets on how long it would be before you either fought or started dating.

You challenged each other, teased and bullied, and you insulted yet joked with one another. He annoyed you, but you had to admit, you kind of missed him sometimes, often finding your mind drifting to him throughout the rest of the year.

But, you could never admit that out loud, especially not to him. You would never hear the end of it.

Your thoughts began to drift from Mingi as you pulled into the campsite. You noted a few familiar faces as you parked, your eyes landing on a tall man as he climbed out of his car. His hair was a different color for the fourth year in a row, but you could still recognize him from a mile away.

'Mingi'

You took in a deep breath as you refused to acknowledge the tightness filling your chest as your heart beat quickly.

Turning off your car you let out the deep breath, "Here we go."

Mingi's eyes scanned the area as he smiled at the other teachers and staff. The students would be arriving soon, but they weren't who he was looking for.

He started to frown as he saw no sight of you, fear creeping in that you wouldn't be here this year, but upon hearing another teacher call your name, his head snapped at the direction of the sound. His eyes finally landed on you as you smiled and waved to the girl.

Mingi scanned your figure as a smile spread across his face. Determination and confidence filled his chest as he clenched his fist around the strap of his bag.

As you spoke to the other teacher you looked around, your eyes eventually landing on Mingi. He held eye contact with you as his smile turned into a smirk. You let out a soft sigh as you looked away from him and left with the girl.

"This time." He muttered to himself, as he grabbed his bag and headed towards the cabins.

As the campers arrived and things started rolling over the next few days, you only thought about Mingi when he was around you. Which was only about a hundred times a day. He seemed to be seeking you out more often than he used to, which you found unusual and frustrating. Not just because he was annoying you purposefully every time, but because you seemed more nervous around him that years before.

Poking at the noodles on your plate, you felt your breath catch as a familiar scent filled your nose as someone sat beside you.

'He always wears the same scent.'

Feeling a shoulder press into yours you glanced to your left to see Mingi smiling pointedly at you.

"What?" You asked bluntly, making him chuckle.

"Just wondering how this years competition is gonna go."

You looked back at your food as you thought back on previous years.

The first year Mingi joined you two worked together to train the same group and won the end of summer competition. The next two years you were against each other, you won and then he won.

Mingi leaned a little closer, "Gonna try harder this time?"

You glared at him and he only smiled bigger. You knew he was just trying to rile you up to make you competitive.

You looked away from him with a soft scoff. "Why would I? You only won last year because the guest judges had crushes on you"

He opened his mouth in sarcastic offense before he smiled and leaned a little closer toward you, "Was that an insult or jealousy?"

You locked your eyes with his and he smirked. "I'm not jealous of you winning a swayed competition."

He leaned a little bit closer and you swear you saw his eyes flick to your lips, "I wasn't talking about the competition."

As you realize he was insinuating you were jealous because of the judges crushes, you felt your heart skip a beat. Before you could respond, you ears caught onto the amused and whispered comments of a nearby table of students.

"I told you they were dating!"

"I don't think they are, they look like they hate each other!"

"No they are totally dating, look at how they are looking at each other."

Realizing just how close Mingi was to you, you swallowed before scoffing in reply to Mingi's comment as you leaned away from him.

"You wish." You muttered as you rose, throwing out your scraps and heading back to our cabin.

Mingi watched you leave with a soft smile as his heart pounded, the students comments replaying in his mind.

Your body was tired as the day came to an end, you always struggled getting used to this amount of work the first week of camp. You began packing away your supplies as you heard the door slide open. Looking up, you smiled as one of the younger girls hired for a training program approached you.

"Hey what's up?"

She scratched the back of her neck nervously, "Hey. I was just wondering if I could ask you something."

"Sure what is it?"

"Well... it's about Mingi."

You felt your chest clench as you stared at her for a second. Was she going to ask if you were dating him? They always ask that. She was obviously crushing on him, as many of the teachers and student's did. You weren't sure why it annoyed you so much. No, that was a lie, you did, but you refused to acknowledge the reason.

"Uhm...are you dating him?"

'Knew it.'

You cleared your throat as you stacked a couple chairs. "No, I'm not dating him. And I never have, if that was your next question."

"Oh, cool. Well...just in case, cause I feel like it might be obvious I sort of have a thing for him-" she giggled nervously and you forced a smile. "Do you uhm- have feelings for him then?"

You paused as you felt you breath catch. That was always the question that followed. And as much as you convinced yourself you answered truthfully each time, you knew deep down it was only ever a lie.

"No, I don't."

"Huh? Really?" She asked in surprise, "Why not?"

You let out a soft scoff, "He's not my type."

Another lie.

The girl thought silently to herself for a moment before nodding, "Okay, sorry to bother you!" She waved before leaving and you let out a sigh.

Mingi's chest clenched tightly as he furrowed his brow. He watched the girl leave as your words echoed in his mind. After a few more moments you walked out as well, not noticing him as you closed the door and began to leave.

"What is your type then?"

You jumped in surprise as your hands flew up to your chest, "Oh my God!" You let out a groan, "You scared me!"

He smiled in amusement at you as he pushed himself away from the wall and approached you.

You let out an exasperated breath as you realized what he had asked, "Eavesdropping? Really?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "What? I was just walking past and heard my name. I think I have the right to know who's talking about me."

You sighed again, "Fair enough, but that doesn't mean I have to answer your question."

Turning, you began walking away from him, aware that he was going to follow you.

Catching up to you he walked practically pressed up against you as he pestered you. "Come on, just a hint. What's your type?"

You rolled your eyes as you stopped, causing him to stagger away to stop himself from colliding with you.

"Not you. That's all you need to know, now stop following me." You warned as you headed towards the bathrooms.

Mingi put his hands in his pockets as he watched you leave with a soft smile. His heart was pounding as his chest seemed to ache. Did you really not like him? Was he really not your type?

Your eyes were shut as you danced to the music playing. The movements were as natural as breathing even though you hadn't danced ballet in quite a while. Various thoughts ran through your mind as you moved around the room unaware you had a one-man audience.

When the song came to an end your heart jolted as clapping echoed throughout the room. You looked towards the door to see Mingi leaning against the wall with a smile on his face as he let out a soft laugh at your startled reaction.

Rolling your eyes you walked over to your phone to stop the next song from playing. As you sat on the ground to switch your shoes, Mingi walked over, crouching down in front of you.

"I always forget you can dance like that."

Glancing up at him a jolt ran up your spine at the intense stare he was giving you. You couldn't quite place the emotion in his gaze but you knew it made you heart race.

Breaking the eye contact you seemed to get stuck in, you continued switching your shoes, "What, does it intimidate you?"

He grinned and let out a soft airy chuckle and you couldn't help but smile too, knowing ballet was not intimidating in the slightest to someone like Mingi.

As you stood, you missed the way Mingi's eyes followed your every move. His heart fluttered at the sight of your smile, something that was rarely aimed at him, much to his dismay.

As you grabbed your bag, Mingi spoke again, the tone of his voice catching you off guard.

"Do you really hate me?"

You halted as you looked down at him with bewilderment, "What?"

"I always thought we had this sort of love-hate relationship, but I've been wondering recently if the love is all on my side."

Mingi almost laughed as he watched your brain seem to shut off and reboot as you blinked a few times in confused silence.

Shaking your head softly you met his gaze again with a soft frown and Mingi felt his chest clench. "I don't hate you."

He raised his brow a bit in pleasant surprise.

"You're annoying, and a menace and you drive me crazy. But, I've never hated you."

Mingi stared at you with a blank stare for a moment before suddenly standing and stepping towards you. You froze as he slowly rose his hand and wiped a strand of hair from your forehead where it was stuck. The sudden realization that you were probably sweaty and gross from dancing hit you and you suddenly felt shy.

'Why do I care?'

As Mingi continued to stare at you in silence, you swallowed before stepping back. Mingi quickly reached out and grabbed your wrist, stopping you, fearing you were going to walk away from him before he could do what he came to.

You looked between his hand and face as you quirked your brow at him.

"Do you know why I keep coming back to this camp every year?"

You frowned at him before slowly shaking your head no.

"Because of you."

Your heart seemed to skip a beat at his words. "What?"

"Because I want to see you." He swallowed nervously but continued, knowing this might be his only chance to have you alone like this. "You've never told me your number, or where you live, or how else to reach you. So I only get to see you here. So I come back."

Your heart was pounding heavy as you struggled to find you words before finally stuttered out. "That's a stupid reason."

He shook his head, "It's not, not to me."

"You want to tease and torment me that badly?"

He shook his head as he let out an exasperated sigh, "No, I just want to see you. And be around you. Do you really not get it?"

From the way you swallowed nervously and messed with the strap of your bag he knew you understood his words, but you didn't believe them. Did you think he was just messing with you? His chest clenched painfully as he took a small step closer to you.

"I like you. So much that every year I count the days till I can come back here and see you again."

You seemed to forget how to breath as you stared at him. His eyes burned into yours as he stared at you intensely.

"Don't you like me too?" His voice was soft, almost scared.

You hesitantly opened your mouth, uncertain of what to say as your thoughts and emotions that had been repressed all this time tried to escape, but the fear rejection and heartbreak tried to force them away.

Your eyes darted to the studio door as it slid open with a loud clang, revealing one of the other dance teachers. Mingi's face showed his clear disappointment and annoyance at the interruption, but the somewhat tipsy girl didn't notice as she grinned at the two of you.

"There you are! I've been looking for you everywhere! All the instructors and staff are down at the lake why are you guys up here?"

'You guys' You rolled your eyes at the attempt at including you, when her eyes were strictly glued to Mingi.

As she approached, you saw the way she glanced between the two of you, her obvious crush and jealousy showing.

She grabbed Mingi's arm as she grinned at him, "It's no fun without you there."

You felt your chest clench as you cleared your throat, "I don't feel like drinking so I'm just gonna head to bed."

Your eyes locked with Mingi's as you began to leave. He was clearly going to try and follow you, but the girl tightened her grip, stumbling a little, clearly on purpose, as she started gigging.

As you made it out of the studio, you let out a shaky breath as Mingi's words repeated in your mind.

'Don't you like me too?'

As you stared up at your ceiling that night, his question repeating over and over in your mind, you let out a soft sigh. Finally giving in to the thought you had pushed away for years.

'Yes, I do.'

The next week seemed to pass by in a blur. You had gotten so busy with your group you hadn't seen Mingi as often. You feared seeing him around every corner. Afraid he might find you again and force you to reveal your true feelings, something you weren't sure you were ready for.

Though, at the same time, you felt panic creeping up on you at the realization that the camp was almost over. Then he would be gone again for a whole year.

Coming to a decision you grabbed a piece of paper and a pen as your students prepared for the final competition at the end of camp.

You smiled brightly at your group as they cheered happily after being announced the winners. Your eyes scanned the crowd of students before landing on Mingi. Your heart jolted and your breath caught. He was clapping with a genuine smile on his face as he stared at you.

A smile spread across your own face before you quickly looked away, turning your attention to the students, your heart hammering nervously from the brief moment.

Mingi's eyes had been glued to your every movement as he tried to make his way through the crowd. Students and teachers were rushing around as everyone boarded busses and cars to return home. He didn't care to say goodbye to anyone but you, but everyone and their mother's seemed to need to speak to him, something he had found amusing in previous years, but now it only frustrated him.

He desperately needed to see you before the end of the camp. He couldn't let another year pass without being around you, not again.

His anxiety grew as you disappeared from his sight, lost in the crowds around him. His eyes darted to every face he passed by, but you were gone.

"Mingi!"

He turned at the sound of his name, but felt disappointment rush over him when another teacher approached him.

"Hey, where's Y/n?"

"That's why I'm here, they left already." Mingi's face fell as his heart dropped, "They were running late for their flight, but, they told me to give you this."

Mingi took the note, quickly opening it. His eyes scanned over the city name and phone number listed on the paper and he smiled letting out a soft breath. He nodded to himself as his mind already began turning, determination stronger than before.

You seemed to be constantly on edge after you left the note for Mingi. You read the text one more time as you walked towards your dance studio.

'See you soon ;)'

You knew it was from Mingi, but hadn't replied. Nor had he sent another message.

A week had already passed since the camp ended, and you consistently stopped yourself from sending him a message asking what he meant. You told him the city where you lived, but why did the message make it seem like he was gonna show up? It's not like you gave him your home address.

Entering the studio you smiled and greeted the front desk clerk before entering the studio. Spotting one of your coworkers she grinned and ran up to you.

"Hey, have you heard about the new dance teacher they hired?"

You shook your head "I knew they were hiring but I didn't know they found someone."

She nodded her head fervently, "They did and he's so attractive!"

You rolled your eyes with a soft laugh as you started setting your stuff down. "I want to ask him if he's single but that might be too forward right?"

You eyed her, "A bit."

She sighed, as she leaned against the wall. Hearing someone walk into the room your coworker gasped lightly before tapping your arm aggressively. You met her eyes as she motioned her eyes behind you.

'Must be the new guy'

Turning around, your eyes met with a pair of striking and familiar eyes, only a couple feet away from you. Mingi grinned knowingly at your shocked expression as he approached you.

You were stuck in stunned silence as Mingi let out a soft chuckle before taking another step closer and leaning in, "Miss me?"

Your coworker looked between the two of you, "You two know each other?"

Mingi nodded as he explained, your coworker nodding along in interest. Mingi's eyes never left your face, and you could hardly find the strength to breath as your thoughts raced.

'So, this is what he meant. But how did he find me? And why did he get a job here? He's not secretly some weird stalker serial killer right?'

As one of the lead dancers came in looking for Mingi, you made your escape to the locker room, aware he watched you leave. Disappointment was obvious on his face at missing the opportunity to talk to you properly.

You were on your toes the entire day, aware Mingi was in a nearby room as you wondered when you would see him next. You would have to talk to him. Before, you were too shocked to think properly, but now you needed to know what was going on with him.

When the day finally ended after seeming to drag on a lot longer than normal, you didn't see Mingi around the studio.

'Did he leave already?'

Frowning, you exited the studio, heading towards your car, slowing down as you saw Mingi leaning against the door.

As he spotted you he grinned, straightening up as you approached.

Before he could speak you broke in, "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I had been looking for a new job anyways and after you left me that note I was surprised to learn we really didn't live that far away from each other. Twenty minutes to be exactly."

As shocked as you were to hear this, you continued your own line of questioning. "So you applied for a job here?"

He nodded in reply.

"How did you know I worked here?"

"One of the few things I knew about you was that you worked in a dance studio. So once I knew you lived here, I asked around."

You squinted at him and he furrowed his brow. "You do realize this is stalker-like behavior right?"

He let out a laugh and nodded, "Yeah I realized that too but..."

"But?"

"But, you didn't answer my question."

You furrowed your brow, "What question?"

Stepping closer to you, he leaned down, looking into your eyes, a habit he seemed to be developing recently. You breath caught as he scanned your face.

"If you like me too."

Remembering back at the camp in the studio room, you swallowed nervously as you stared silently at him.

A small smile played at his lips as he let out a soft breath. "So, I'll be hanging around until you tell me. " Standing back up to his full height, he reached up and ruffled your hair, "See ya."

As he walked away, he left you in stunned silence beside your car as your heart and mind raced.

'Is he really going to stay here until I answer him?'

Looking back, you saw him at his own car. He met your eyes and paused with a smile as he winked at you before getting into the car.

You swallowed again before quickly getting into your own car, breathing heavy as your mind raced with what you should do as you laid your head against the steering wheel in exhaustion.

The following week was a new form of torture you had not been expecting. Mingi spent every moment at work he could teasing and openly flirting with you. Clearly tired of holding back his affection and not caring who else knew.

You poked at your food during lunch as your friend drilled you for information on Mingi.

"So you've known each other for a few years?"

You shrugged your shoulders. "Sort of, we only ever saw each other during the dance camp."

She hummed as he looked around, a smile forming on her face. "Well he's clearly obsessed with you. "

You scoffed softly, though your heart skipped a beat. "Don't be ridiculous."

She caught your eye before motioning her head behind you. Looking back curiously towards the table the other's were sitting at, your eyes locked with Mingi's as he had been staring at you.

His lip quirked up as you quickly looked away, your friends smile widening, "Do you still think I'm being ridiculous?"

You cleared your throat as you tried to steady your hammering heart, "Yes, now be quiet."

She chuckled as you messed anxiously with your food, now aware of his eyes on the back of your head.

By the end of the day, you had forgotten about lunch, and even Mingi. Up until you found him waiting for you at your car after work.

He had the same smile plastered on his face as you approached, but you saw the way his eyes scanned over you, an almost worried gaze on his face as your leg bent stiffly as you walked.

"What now?"

He chuckled, "I just wanted to see how you were, I heard you twisted your leg earlier. Does it hurt?"

So it was worry on his face. Your heart fluttered but you tried to ignore it.

You looked down at your leg as you kind of shook it around. "It's a bit stiff but fine, nothing serious."

He nodded his head as he let out a soft sigh of relief. "Good." He cleared his throat as he glanced around, "Wanna get dinner?"

You felt your chest tighten as your stomach flipped. "Dinner?"

He nodded and you realized just how hungry you were.

Thinking about how little food you had at home, and how much you dreaded cooking anything you nodded, "Sure."

As you saw the brief surprise cross Mingi's face you realized this might not be the best idea. As his face was quickly covered in a happy grin you held back, guilty at the thought of changing your mind now.

You stared into your drink as you played with the straw, too afraid to look up as you could feel Mingi's gaze burning into your skin.

Finally giving in and glancing up, you saw a soft sparkle behind his gaze at he looked at you, making your heart seem to flutter.

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?" You couldn't help but ask, mostly to break the growing tension.

He smiled softly, "Because I like you."

You swallowed hard, butterflies filling your stomach. You began fiddling with your hands nervously, something Mingi noticed immediately.

Giving into your curiosity you spoke softly, "Since when?"

He rose his brow, "Huh?"

"Since when have you liked me?"

He looked down at the table as he thought for a moment before looking back up with you with an almost shy smile. "Since the day we met."

You leaned forward in surprise, "What?" You glanced around, a bit embarrassed at the volume of your own voice. Lowering your tone you looked at him, "Four years ago?"

He chuckled, "Yeah. The first time we met you were bright and bubbly but fierce, and you challenged me on my first day. You told me I was replacing one of your past teaches so I had big shoes to fill." He smiled as he stared at you, "Ever since then, I was intrigued by you, and before I knew it, I was always thinking about you. And I guess I wanted you to notice me, and since you only ever acknowledged me when I was annoying..."

"You decided to make it your entire personality?"

He laughed as he nodded, embarrassed by his own behavior. You couldn't help but laugh along as you thought back on that first summer you met him. He always seemed really nice and caring, yet was always so different around you.

"I always wondered why you were like that around me and no one else."

"You noticed?"

"It was kind of obvious." You chuckled, "I just thought you didn't like me very much. And as the years passed I just figured you enjoyed annoying me for your own fun I guess."

He frowned as he let out a sigh and shook his head in annoyance at himself. "I'm sorry. When I finally realized I had been like that for too long, it was too late."

Mingi looked back up at you, and you seemed to get lost in each others eyes for a moment, the tension began to build before you broke eye contact and looked away. You heart was hammering heavily in your chest as your mind raced about the decision you needed to make.

As Mingi walked you back to your car, you looked over at him almost shyly, "Thanks for dinner. I'll buy next time." You hesitated at your own words as his brow rose before he grinned.

"Did you just ask me on a date?" He teased making you roll your eyes.

"Don't be cheeky."

He chuckled as you climbed into your car. He remained by your car as you started it, raising his brow in curiosity as you rolled down your window and looked up at him.

"The answer to your question is yes by the way."

He frowned in confusion as you smiled almost teasingly at him.

"I do like you."

His eyes shot open wider as realization formed on his face. Before he could reply you rolled up your window and pulled away, leaving him to watch after your car in stunned silence.

As your car disappeared, he started grinning to himself as he pumped his fists and jumped around in excitement and celebration at his requited feelings. Letting out a loud sigh of relief, he got into his car, cheeks aching from grinning as he thought about what to do now.

Your own smile tugged painfully at your face as you drove home. Your heart seemed to never slow down as the adrenaline of confessing your feelings remained throughout the night, eventually leaving you exhausted in bed as you slept restlessly, waiting for the next day to come.

Arriving at the studio earlier than normal since it was your turn to set up, you felt nervous in your own skin. Part of you wanted to avoid Mingi strictly out of shyness, while the rest of you wanted to see him as soon as possible.

You shook your head with a soft sigh as your own flip-flopping feelings. As you set up the studio, waiting for the other's to arrive, you wondered if he was feeling and thinking the same things. Would he be his normal self? More forward? Would he avoid you?

Your question was answered as a voice suddenly spoke right next to your ear, "Morning."

You jumped away out of surprise, seeing a grinning and chuckling Mingi beside you.

"Mingi!" You gasped out with a breathy chuckle.

The doors opened as a few of the others showed up with bright smiles and greetings. You and Mingi met eyes as he smiled knowingly at you.

Suddenly grabbing the equipment in your hands he smiled at you, "How's your leg?"

You nodded with a shy smile, "It's fine, no pain."

He nodded in relief as he helped you finish setting up, the tension between you more casual than anxious.

Mingi couldn't stop looking over at you, hoping to catch your eye each time. He could barely sleep last night, his thoughts full of you and where today might lead. You may have confessed you liked him too, but it was just that. Now he was determined to make you his.

As one of he studio managers called Mingi to help him, he looked over at you before stepping closer, leaning down so he was close to your ear.

"I'll see you later."

As quick as he was there, he was gone, leaving your cheeks burning as you realized he had pressed a swift kiss to your cheek before walking away. So fast you barely had time to process it. You looked around, seeing no one had seen anything, you let out a shaky breath, your heart hammering as you smiled giddily to yourself.

Mingi, being the new guy, ended up running errands all day for an upcoming charity event. You had barely seen him, even as the day came to an end.

As you did at the end of each work week, you spent a couple hours after work practicing alone once everyone else had gone home. As you moved to the music, your thoughts bounced from the event, to Mingi, to your work schedule, but mostly to Mingi though.

Eyes closed, you spun around, gasping as you collided with something. When your eyes shot open, you saw Mingi holding you against his chest, arms wrapped around you as he had caught you when you staggered away.

"Mingi." You muttered out in surprise.

He smiled softly as he looked at you, "Sorry, I got so caught up in watching you I didn't realize you were coming towards me." He smiled sheepishly and you giggled softly.

"It's okay."

His eyes trailed down your body and you felt a shiver run up your spine.

"Are you sure you should be dancing?"

You smiled, knowing he was worried about your leg.

"It's fine, I promise."

He pressed his lips together tightly but nodded. Realizing you were still pressed up against him, hands on his chest, you started to push yourself away, only for him to pull you back.

You questioned him with your eyes and he smiled softly as he slowly leaned his face closer to yours. You froze in anticipation, his eyes almost burning into yours.

"Are you going to avoid me?"

You furrowed your brow and shook your head, "Why would I?"

"It's become your motive every time we get closer."

Realizing this was true you looked down, gently squeezing the cloth of his shirt in your hands. He tightened his grip on your arms just enough to get you to look back into his eyes.

Bringing his hands from your arms to your face, he gently cupped your cheeks as he smiled at you.

Your breath caught as his eyes slowly wandered around your face, lingering on your lips before he met your eyes again.

"I've waited four years for you. I can wait as long as you need. But, to be honest, I don't want to,. So..."

Your voice came out as a whisper as our heart pounded in your ears. "So?"

"So be with me now."

You stared at him in silence for a moment, your eyes gazing into each others before you gently nodded your head.

A grin slowly spread across his face, causing you to smile in return.

He began caressing your cheek with his thumb as he slowly leaned forward, closing the already narrow gap between you. His lips pressed softly against yous, motionless for a second before he leaned in more, gently deepening the kiss for a brief moment before pulling away.

You were stunned by the kiss, and Mingi gazed into your eyes, almost worried about how you would react. As you smiled shyly at him, his smile widened before he pulled your face close again.

He paused briefly just before your lips met, your eyes locked before you both leaned in, kissing each other. His hands caressed your cheeks before he moved them to wrap around your waist, pulling you close to his body. As your lips melted together, you wrapped your arms around his neck allowing yourself to be lost in the kiss.

You weren't sure how long you had been kissing, but when you finally pulled away you were both out of breath. He pressed his forehead against yours as he gently swayed you back and forth.

"Does this mean we're officially together now?"

You chuckled softly as you nodded, "Yes."

He grinned as he leaned his head back almost dramatically. "Finally!"

You laughed as you gently smacked his chest. He pulled you closer and you laid your head against his chest. Thinking for a moment you chuckled.

Mingi looked down at you in curiosity, "What?"

"I wonder how everyone at the camp is gonna react next year."

He grinned. "I doubt anyone will be surprised."

You smiled, "I might become enemy number one to all of the other teachers."

He chuckled, "Don't worry, I'll protect you."

"Promise?"

He nodded happily as he held you closer, resting his head against yours, "I promise."

xx End xx

Not sure how I feel about the ending but I didn't have a plan for it lol so it is what it is.

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harleehazbinfics · 2 months

Text

Chapter 2: Dear Baby, kindness will take you a million miles.

Dear baby, m.list | Author Profile

A/n: Chapter 2 yaaaay, i got fully immersed for this one hehehe Word Count: 1842

You wake up to your feather all sticking out in different directions and drool on the side of your beak. You stretched carefully with a loud yawn before closing your mouth in embarrassment from your unladylike behavior. You then try to straighten out your feathers and failing, making you huff. Your borrowed dress trains after you as you approached the vanity seeing your figure.

You were tall like most of the Goetia and was gifted features of an owl, you had tan feathers that almost look golden in the light. Your hair was the same, framing your body beautifully. You trace your talons across your cheek and sighed.

“If we’re starting a new life, we got to make the most of it now. Isn’t that right, darling?” you laugh drily petting your tummy and stood tall. Your magic envelops you as your slowly turned into a human form.

Your human form wasn’t starkly different from your normal form. Just your hair, hands and legs turning more human like. This way, no one would ever notice you were ever part of the Goetia immediately.

After taking a bath, changing to new clothes. You followed the smell of pancakes down the hall. There you see Lucifer cooking breakfast in the kitchen with a ‘kiss the cook’ apron. You held back a laugh as you approached the kitchen island listening to him a hum a lively tune.

“Good morning, your majesty,” you greet him with a smile.

“Good morning!” he replies cheerfully before noticing his pancake burning, “Uh oh!”

He hastily plates the remaining pancakes and serves you the pancakes that had no burnt spots. You blush at his gesture and thank him quietly while picking up your utensils carefully and carefully cut the fluffy pancakes.

“Do you have any plans today, your majesty?” you ask him cautiously.

He chews and think with a hum before answering, “I might do some paperwork today. I’ve been holding off work for a while. I’m sure they’re all piled up by now.”

At the sound of the word papers, you perked up and replied, “Can I help you with them? I’m quite familiar with organizing and cataloguing. I-if that’s too much to ask, you can ignore me. I apologize.”

He furrows his eyebrows at your dejected look and huffs with a smile. Being in a quite unfamiliar place must be stressful for you, having him help you might do you some good and familiarize yourself with the structure of the city and at the same time keep your mind off things. Besides, you were part of the Goetia, you were more or less acquainted with the working of earth and how they reported to him.

“Of course, I don’t see why not you can’t,” he answers with a grin, easing you of your worries.

Your bright smile douses his broken heart with a calm he hasn’t felt in a while.

After breakfast, he takes you to his office. He wasn’t lying when he said it had piled up. Several towers of paper lined up from his table about waist high. However, the air here was heavy and stuffy. Lucifer rushes for the blinds and pushes open the windows.

“Sorry. I haven’t been here for a while,” Lucifer excuses with an apologetic smile as he uses his magic to immediately clean the room and pick up any stray pieces of paper from the ground and onto the nearest stack.

“It’s fine, your majesty. I don’t mind,” you assure him as you approached the stack of paper closest to you, “Should I start from here?”

“If you could. Just tell me if you feel tired. I’d hate to push you to work,” he answers while fretting over you which you found heartwarming to be cared for by this man.

You gave him a nod in appreciation. With his permission, you carried a good stack of papers and placed them on the coffee table by the couch and began your work.

Most of them were reports on the death counts for yearly exterminations and other communication letters from Heaven which were, not so friendly, a few being specifically addressed from an ADAM with rock sign on it.

There were also a few reports coming in from the different layers of hell. Yearly report on income, crime rates, destroyed buildings and a few notes on some disputes between the rulers of each ring.

It wasn’t boggling when you received the financial statements from the Greed Ring. Several of these assets were probably laundered or just manipulated in their favor with how unproportional their expenses were to the rest of their accounts.

Your movements come to a stop when you saw a familiar handwriting. With a heavy heart, you read your father’s name under his report on Earth about life of humans from impoverished areas. It made you smile sadly at how this was what your father reported on. He truly did have a soft-hearted soul. It made you wonder how your family was, after leaving the castle you didn’t send them any letters on where you were. The thought squeezed you heart from the guilt and grief of being away from your family for such a long time.

As if sensing your plummeted mood, a little duckie appeared in your desk with a little quack. You touched it with your finger before picking it up and squeezing it. Earning yourself an energetic wenk. You giggle under your breath and look at Lucifer, who looked right back with a worried look. You responded with a confident smile before returning to your work.

Days and weeks pass the same after that. Until eventually all the remaining reports only amounted to a reasonable stack on his desk. The other files were already sent away for review and auditing.

With a big stretch, you relieve yourself from the strain of sitting for days on end. You felt relieved and satisfied after completing your work. And just after a good work is done, Lucifer came into the office bringing in a tray of tea and pastries.

Your eyes gleamed in delight at the sight. You were now an avid fan of Lucifer’s baking and cooking skills, it as if he were gifted the hands of a culinary god. You took a bite of a scone before taking a sip of the tea he also brewed. The refreshing combo was truly phenomenal.

“I don’t think I can stress this enough, your majesty! You’re quite skilled in the kitchen!” you complemented him,

You were radiating with happiness that Lucifer couldn’t help but feel bashful to. It has been quite a long time since someone had complemented him for any of his skills. It felt invigorating to say the least.

“Thank you for your compliments. Truth be told, I was quite nervous to show off my cooking skills to you. I was afraid that it wouldn’t end up well,” he replies recalling his burnt pancake during your first morning here.

You giggled and answered, “I feel honored for the king of hell to worry about my palate. I must apologize however, I didn’t mean for you to be so troubled because of me.”

“Oh, there’s no need to apologize. I just wanted you to have a good experience while you were here,” he explains scratching his nape.

You gave him a grateful smile then replying, “Thank you. I am having a fun time here. I quite like the view from the rooftop. Though, I do miss the stars I suppose one can be amused by the chaos that happens in sinners’ day to day.”

He laughs awkwardly like an embarrassed teen mom being scrutinized for her rowdy kids. Since sinners were his subjects, he can’t help but feel responsible for their actions as though they represent him. Of course it wasn’t his fault.

“I’ve seen portraits of her everywhere. Is she your daughter?” you ask, changing the subject and motioning to the toddler in the family portrait.

He beams a proud smile and answers, “Yeah, she is. Her name’s Charlie.”

“You look so much alike,” you reply, “Where is she?”

“Ah, she’s with her mother. She took Charlie with her after we split,” he explains giving a longing look of their family portrait.

It made your heart squeeze thinking about how this man was missing his daughter so badly. He doesn’t seem to talk much about his wife, neither does he tell unpleasant stories about his wife. You guessed it was a reluctant parting, hoping they could fix it somehow.

“Do you still see her? Charlie?” you ask once again.

“Not for a while. It’s been 8 months since I’ve seen her,” he sighs imagining how his little princess would be right now.

“If it’s too presumptuous of me. I think you should call her. I’m sure she’s missing her dad,” you suggested cautiously.

His eyebrows merely furrowed, and his frown deepened, “What if she doesn’t? I haven’t seen her for such a long time. I don’t want her to hate me.”

You placed your hand on his shoulder to calm him down. He gazes into your eyes that shook from imagining scenarios in his head by himself.

“Just give her a call. I’m sure your wife will understand. It’s for your daughter after all,” you reasoned with him.

He releases a deep sigh and solemnly nods his head. He missed Charlie, and as much as it pained him to talk to Lilith again. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for his daughter. So, he walked towards his desk and picks up his telephone.

“I’ll leave the room to you, your majesty. Call for me if you need anything,” you say as your stood up heaving your rounded stomach.

“Actually, (Y/n)? Could you... could you stay?” he whispers with much anxiety.

You looked at him surprised and asked once again for confirmation if he was sure about his decision for him to nod his head. Offering his hand for you to hold as he tries to face his fears. You took his hand and gave him an encouraging squeeze.

He closes his eyes and sucks in a breath before dialing the number he has memorized like the back his hand. You absent-mindedly held his hand as he did his business. The family portrait of 3 staring back at you made you feel queasy, did you overstep your boundary here? You were just a guest, but you wanted Lucifer to be happy with the family you’ve been longing for.

“Great! Saturday at 10, yeah?... Thanks for the time, Lilith,” he breathes out strained, however instead of replying she turned off the call.

After putting the phone down he pumps his fist in the air and yells, “YEAH! I’m going to see my daughter this Saturday~”

You laugh at his little song, you tinkling laugh catches his attention. Giving you a soft warm smile and thanking you, “Thank you, (y/n). I wouldn’t have mustered the courage without you.”

“Well, I’m proud of you for taking the chance,” you reply nudging his shoulder.

🔗Dear Baby Taglist:

@wonderlandangelsposts @spoiled-slutt @roboticsuccubus83 @simbalioness @reachthestars @atlas-rin @luc1fersducky @condy-wants-a-cookie @lovestruck-enby @azullynxx @delightedtosee @beansluvsmilo @cherry-4200 @aria-tempest @lvstyangel @0strawberrysorbet0 @corvid007 @enby-goblin @whydosnakesnotdance @willow404 @psychoanalyze0 @sweetadonisbutbetter @hahalame @manachpo @dionysusismypatrongod @obessivlyonline

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juyeonszn · 9 months

Text

NECTAR

PAIRING kim sunwoo x f!reader

WORD COUNT 7.14k

GENRES smut ﹒ fluff

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, umm age gap!! reader is like 10 or so years older than sunwoo (it’s never really specified what her exact age is), reader is also eric’s older sister, there’s a bit of spanish thrown in here lol they’re in mexico for vacation what did u expect, sun eric and hak are professional baseball players, there’s a scene where a waitress is kinda icky to reader bc she’s older, i think mentions of alcohol, sunwoo is down BAD down bad to the point of no return it’s crazy, he’s also a horny impatient little shit, soft dom!sunwoo ig idk, oral (m! & f! receiving), face fucking, handjob ish, a little bit of hair pulling, vaginal fingering, So Much Praise, UNPROTECTED SEX pls be safe!!, edging, delayed orgasm kinda, missionary position, creampie, aftercare :P, the last scene is so cute and disgusting i hate couples

SUMMARY despite being nearly a decade older than him, sunwoo’s always had his eyes on you. so when your younger brother invites you to join them on vacation, you fall right into his trap. you can’t really blame him for finally taking the bait after all these years.

MORE woah hey again 😋 this one isn’t as wild as the hyunjae fic, but it has its moments LOLL if u ever read my warnings about this when it was on my wip list, then u know that this was actually an old fic back from when i wrote for anime 😭 i changed a lot tbh but a good chunk of the original plot is still there 👍 i got inspo for the last scene from a tumblr quote my irl posted on instagram isn’t that crazy anyway….. enjoy!!

PLAYLIST nectar — wayv, tangerine love (favorite) — nct dream, delicious — the boyz, passion fruit — the boyz, horizon — jaehyun, moonlight sunrise — twice

When you agreed to go with your younger brother on a vacation in Mexico for a week with his friends, you weren’t sure what you were expecting.

You knew your brother’s friends well. They'd gone to high school together and after partly going their separate ways following graduation, decided to go on yearly trips to make up for any lost time. This year, the destinations were the gorgeous beaches of Mexico. Cozumel, Cancun, you name it. You were hitting all the spots.

Those were the luxuries of being the older sister of a professional baseball player.

From the start of your getaway, every single one of your movements felt like they were being watched. Your skin burned with the heat of mocha brown eyes staring at you. Half of you wanted to point it out to Eric, but figured you’d save yourself from the drama. Besides, you were a big girl and two could play at that game.

The first instance took place before you even left for the trip.

You lived about an hour away from Eric and since you were all taking the same flight, you thought it would be more convenient to just ride to the airport together. And because he was closer to the airport, he offered for you to stay at his and Sunwoo’s apartment. Haknyeon would be meeting you there due to prior engagements with his own team.

When you arrived at your brother’s place, you immediately regretted it. You hadn’t called before going over and Eric happened to be out, leaving you alone with Sunwoo. There was nothing wrong with him, you just hadn’t seen him in a couple years and you were afraid of it being awkward.

The younger male helped you bring your things inside, huffing when he dropped your suitcases in the guest bedroom. He wipes away imaginary sweat from his forehead, blowing out a raspberry as he turns to face you.

“Did you pack bricks in there? Why the fuck was that so heavy?”

You laugh. Sunwoo had always been quite the clown as long as you’d known him. “I’m a girl, what did you expect? We never pack lightly.”

“You can say that again,” he snorts, twisting his torso to pop his back. “Uh, are you hungry? We have some leftover takeout in the fridge ‘cause you know damn well neither of us know how to cook.”

Before you can respond, you’re distracted by the sight of him raising his arms to stretch, his t-shirt riding up to show a sliver of his abdomen. From the way his slender fingers lock above his head to the taut skin peeking behind the fabric, you’re entranced. Your brain finally comprehends the fact that Kim Sunwoo was no longer a teenage boy, but rather a grown man.

He clears his throat, breaking your trance and forcing you to stop staring. Your cheeks flush slightly as you attempt to hide the embarrassment flooding your features. His lips are pulled into a smug grin, making you aware that he caught you. He doesn’t say anything though, keeping the cocky smirk as he leaves the room. (Presumably to go to the kitchen.)

With hefty feet, you drag yourself to follow. He’s already warming up the leftovers for you as you take a seat at the island barstool, resting your chin on your palm and your elbows on the counter. Your moment from a few minutes ago is long forgotten as you become transfixed by him on the other side of the island.

It’s weird for you to think about how much Eric has matured, coming from an older sister’s point of view. But having that same realization for Sunwoo is a completely different can of worms. You watch as he extracts the container out of the microwave and opens a drawer beside him to grab a pair of chopsticks simultaneously, all without skipping a beat.

He spins on his heels to place the food in front of you, pausing when he notices that you’re staring at him again. The glint in your eyes was more wholesome than before and it made his heart stutter in his chest. He slides the container across the surface of the island, leaning closer to you.

It was almost like your gaze trapped him in a spell, taking over his actions and drawing him towards you like a magnet. He’s never wanted you as much as he did right now, seeing you in his home, sitting on the stool in his kitchen. Your eyes widen when you’ve snapped back to reality.

Before he can do anything, the sound of the front door unlocking stops him and he’s stepping away to tidy up his mess as if nothing happened. Eric comes in to greet you happily and life continues on just as it had prior to Sunwoo leaning into your personal space. He acts like it never occurred, laughing along at a stupid joke your brother made.

And for some reason, you thought he would keep pretending nothing happened. What a rude awakening you were in for.

It’s a couple days into your trip and you were sitting on a lounge chair poolside, while Eric and Haknyeon had gone to get drinks. Sunwoo placed himself in the seat next to you, his sculpted chest and torso gleaming in all their tanned glory.

He knew it was wrong of him to pine after his best friend’s sister, but how could he not? There was something about your maturity that drove him crazy. But even if you ignored that, anyone who could see would find you stunningly gorgeous. The sight of you scantily clad in a bikini was enough to make the strongest men weak.

Perhaps it was also the thrill that you were nearly a decade older than him.

At this point, you weren’t sure if the warmth engulfing your body was from the sun or the brunette’s intense gaze, but you want to push your luck, the incident at the apartment still fresh on your mind.

“Sunwoo? Do you mind putting some sunscreen on my back for me?” You ask innocently, grasping the base of the tube firmly. His tongue darts out and swipes across his lips.

She knows what she’s doing, he thinks to himself.

“Yeah, s’no problem,” he responds cooly, standing from his chair to sit behind you on yours.

You’re borderline on his lap, so close that you can feel his breath on your neck. Just to fuck with him some more, you reach behind yourself to untie your swim suit top.

You’ve been on this playing field long enough to know when a man wants you, but you’ve never been an easy target. It was like a game of cat and mouse for you. Right when they think they’ve got you, you always seem to be three steps ahead.

This little chase that you were leading Sunwoo on wasn’t any different.

His fingers dance dangerously low on your back, working the lotion into your skin wonderfully. As you’ve gotten older, your body has undoubtedly changed. The fat of your thighs was far more than it was when you were in your early twenties/late teens. Your stomach was lined with stretch marks, no two the same. But even so, you remained ever confident. You wouldn’t put up with anyone who wouldn’t agree that your so-called ‘imperfections’ were beautiful.

After a few minutes, once the trap had been set, you tied your bathing suit back. The ghost of his skilled fingers lingered as you stood from the lounge chair, spotting your brother and Haknyeon walking back.

The brunette had never been denied before. He got what he wanted without fail, and he’d be damned if this was the one outlier. He’d just have to prove to you that even though he was younger, he was more of a man than any you’d ever been with. And that was a promise.

Later that evening, the four of you had gone to your respective rooms to shower and get ready for dinner. Luckily, Eric had used his brain for something good and reserved separate hotel rooms for each of you. ‘Just in case,’ he’d said.

You did the finishing touches of your makeup and checked your phone, finding a text from your brother.

[8:07] eric: we’re all in the lobby

[8:07] eric: just waiting on u

[8:07] eric: but take ur time dear sister pls don’t rush on our account

[8:08] eric: it’s not like we have an uber waiting for us or anything

[8:08] eric: note the sarcasm btw

You roll your eyes as you grab your purse, tossing the device inside. Who was he to talk about how long it took you to get ready? You were in your thirties and you were not about to be bossed around by your little brother. Back when he was still in high school, you were the one telling him to speed up his morning process.

Your dad had gotten a job halfway across the country right before his second year and it crushed him. You remember how upset he was when they broke the news, the thought of packing up his entire life and leaving all of his friends stung. So instead, you got a well paying job and bought a two bedroom apartment for the both of you, that way he could stay and finish out the rest of high school. You made some sacrifices, sure, but you were practically done experimenting in your life. You were in your late twenties by this point, what more was there to do? You’d already graduated from university so helping out your brother was doing everyone a favor.

After living together for nearly three years, you and Eric had grown a lot closer. With such an age difference, it’d been difficult to relate to one another and bond over certain things. When he’d discovered a new phase to go through, you had moved past it years prior. You were always just out of reach from each other until then. It was like the universe itself was trying to bring you together.

Even now, both of you much older, he still calls and asks to come over to your place so he can hang out. You meant just as much to him as he did to you.

The elevator dings, opening so you can stroll towards the group of young men waiting for you. Right when they caught sight of you, you started making your way to the Uber parked under the carport outside of the hotel.

The drive to the restaurant was silent, but you could feel an intense gaze on your form. Purposefully, you’d worn your most revealing outfit. A nice tight dress to hug your matured body and some skinny heels to elongate your legs. You were thankful that your brother wasn’t the type to be overly protective, well aware that his older sister could carry her own by now. However, you think even Haknyeon had started to pick up on your actions and the unspoken tension between you and Sunwoo.

You arrived at your location for the evening, stepping out of the car gracefully. You received multiple stares from other patrons and even a few employees. You weren’t sure if it was because you were just that drop dead gorgeous, or if it was another reason entirely. Maybe they were wondering what three men who looked as young as they did, were doing with an older woman such as yourself.

You don’t have to dwell on it for too long, a host showing the four of you to a booth almost immediately. Shout out to Eric and Sunwoo for having connections.

The seating arrangement ends up with you and Sunwoo on one side, Haknyeon and Eric on the other. You had a feeling this was not a good idea. They’d dropped you right where he wanted.

When the waitress comes to take your drink order, you feel the toasty warmth of a hand on your thigh, nearly tripping you up as you point out a margarita on the rocks from the menu. After she jots everything down, she taps her pen against the tablet. She then gestures between your party.

“Are any of you dating?” she asks curiously, eyeing you with a quirk to her brow. To anyone else, it’s a normal question. Eric, Haknyeon, and Sunwoo were indeed good looking guys. (One of them was your brother, of course he was attractive— where do you think he got it from?) But you could see right through her fake act. She had to have recognized the three baseball players.

“Haha, no actually. She’s my sister.” Eric chuckles, pointing at you with his thumb. She narrows her eyes momentarily before covering it up with a sickeningly sweet smile.

“Ah, tú hermana.” She tries to laugh off, but when the boys furrow their eyebrows, she realizes it fell upon deaf ears. You fight the urge to burst into laughter at how stupid they were.

“She said ‘your sister’ in Spanish. Idiots, I swear.” You explain to the still confused table. They let out a chorus of ‘ohhhh’s in response. Learning Spanish was something you’re glad you did, seeing as you sometimes needed to translate during your trip. You would definitely hold it over them when you got back.

The waitress seems to notice how close you and Sunwoo are sitting, but doesn’t call you out on it. While the other two are oblivious to her fixation, the brunette catches on quickly, squeezing the inside of your thigh as she continues her silly little version of twenty questions.

“Cuantos años tienes?” She asks you personally, realizing that you can understand her. What ever happened to girls supporting girls?

“How old are you?”

“En mis treinta.” You answer without hesitation, not exactly telling her for the sake of your own satisfaction. The press of Sunwoo’s fingers trails upward, causing you to shift uncomfortably.

“In my thirties.”

You can sense that she wants to say something snarky to you, her opposition to your age clear as glass, but she chooses not to. Whether that’s because she wants to seem like a good person in front of the boys or otherwise, you couldn’t care less. As long as you hadn’t been disrespected. And you knew if you were, Eric and the guys would jump to defend you with all their beings.

After what feels like a millennium, she finally leaves you alone, even going to the extent of switching tables with another waitress. Was that even allowed? You’re not entirely sure, but at least you didn’t have to deal with someone rude.

The majority of the dinner goes smoothly, the drinks and the food tasting unlike anything you’d ever had. Haknyeon couldn’t stop raving about the different flavors he was experiencing. At some point you think he told the waitress to send his thanks to the chef, in true Haknyeon fashion. That was the majority. The rest of the dinner was spent in absolute agony.

A certain baseball player couldn’t keep his hands to himself, eating with one and teasing you with the other. How no one paid any attention to what was happening right in front of them was beyond you. You’d even accidentally whimpered, covering it up by pretending the food was just that good.

The check couldn’t come fast enough, your body betraying you and anticipating getting back to the hotel. Your brother had different plans, claiming that the night was still young and he wanted to have drinks somewhere else. Your disappointment must’ve been obvious, because Sunwoo comes to your rescue.

“Eric, I think your sister’s ready to hit the hay.” He pats the brunette’s shoulder, one hand on his hip.

“Oh we can head back then—“ You interrupt him.

“No no, it’s fine, Eric, I'll be okay on my own. You guys have fun, don’t let me stop you.” You dismiss him. You could get rid of your problem yourself this way. No one to bother—

“I’ll go with you. Someone’s gotta make sure you get to your room safely, N/N. Besides, I'm beat. The sun’s starting to catch up to me.” Sunwoo grins, ruffling your hair. You glare at him, your irritation coming to light for the first time since you’d landed in the country. You’d done so well at acting like he wasn’t affecting you.

“Alright sick! Thanks, Sunwoo! Hak and I will see you tomorrow I guess,” Eric says. He turns to you, hugging your side. “I'll check to see if you’re still awake later.”

And that was that. You and your brother went your separate ways, ordering two Ubers for the pairs you were in.

It took all of about seconds following the ding of the elevator reaching your floor, for Sunwoo’s lips to meet yours. You jump, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, his large palms supporting you from your ass. It was so attractive that he could hold you like this— showing off the muscles he’s built from all his years of playing baseball, a far cry from that scrawny kid you knew when he was younger

He fumbles with his keycard, waving it frantically in front of the sensor. There’s a flash of green and he pushes the door open wide enough to fit the two of you through its threshold. Never once do your mouths disconnect, kissing each other so feverishly it raises the temperature of the room. He kicks the door closed behind him with his foot, pressing you up against the floor to ceiling mirror-wall beside the bathroom. The heat radiating off of your body fogs up the outline of your figure.

Sunwoo can’t seem to get enough of you, groping and grabbing any part of you that he can. You have to admit, you’ve never felt so needed— so wanted— in your life. In the messiness of teeth clashing and tongues tangling, your desperation begins to run rampant. You whine as he tugs at your bottom lip.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this, N/N,” his voice is husky and breathy, his soft pants filling your ears. He pecks your bare shoulder affectionately, cupping your right breast in his hand. “How long I’ve been waiting for you to take me seriously… to let me treat you like a real man should.”

His knee nudges itself between your legs, creating some much appreciated friction momentarily, his erection prominent against your thigh.

“I know that you know what you're doing when you dress like this. All slutty and revealing, showing yourself off to everyone,” his mouth hovers over the skin of your neck, goosebumps littering the surface. “But really, you do it for me, huh? You do it on purpose ‘cause you know how crazy it makes me. You know exactly what I’ve been wanting since we got here. That’s my smart girl.”

You can’t help the small moan that erupts from the back of your throat, his words and the wet feeling of his tongue circling the area he had just been sucking on going straight to the excitement pooling in your belly. He smiles mischievously, thumb running over your clothed nipple.

You’d been so lost in pleasure that you hadn’t even realized he’d moved you to the bed, your back on the fluffy white comforter and your thighs spread apart for him. He takes a hold of the back of his collar and removes his shirt in one swift motion, pushing your dress upward afterwards to assist you in discarding it.

His eyes rake your now half-naked body, the fullness of your tits nearly spilling out from the lacy nude strapless bra you were wearing. He drags a finger along your lace covered slit, his lips curling when he watches you shudder underneath his touch.

“Sunwoo, please…”

You don’t even know what you’re begging for, just that you need it. And you need it badly.

“Please, what?” He tsks, now massaging your inner thighs, working you up just like he wants. You pout, hoping to convey the message without pleading. Embarrassment floods your body when you realize he’s not gonna make it easy for you. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

You shut your eyes, hoping to will away the sheer mortification flushing your entire being. “P-please touch me.”

This fuels his ego even further. As if it could get any bigger.

“Open your pretty eyes, baby,” he coos, leaning forward to kiss you. When you obey his request, he hooks his long fingers into the waistband of your panties. “There we go. See, good girls get what they ask for.”

He slides them off, parting your legs immediately. The cool air makes you flinch. The one article of clothing that kept you unexposed was gone now, along with the confident woman from earlier in the day.

He repeats his actions from minutes ago, his pointer finger collecting your slick as it slides through your folds with ease. The squelching sound it makes is horrifying, your shame settling back into place. He kisses the plane of your stomach gently, murmuring into the skin.

“Do you hear that, sweetheart? Do you hear how excited you are for me? There’s no point in trying to hide it anymore.”

Your eyes widen at his words, opening your mouth to say something in retaliation but he takes this opportunity to bury two fingers inside of you. A gasp leaves your throat consequently, your back arching on instinct. It had been a while since a man had set aside time for foreplay. He truly was making good on his word, treating you like a real man should.

He lowers himself, positioning his face in front of your pussy and darts his tongue across his lips before flattening it against your clit. The sensation makes you shiver, though that reaction is nothing compared to what happens next. He curls his fingers inside of you, brushing that certain spongy spot that drives you insane, then begins alternating between kitten licking and sucking on the engorged skin of your clit.

You cry out, hands flying down to tug at his hair and dig your nails into his scalp. He doesn’t appear to mind at all, more like he enjoys it, reveling in the way you’re losing yourself to him slowly but surely. It's a dream come true for him. He's finally getting the opportunity to completely ruin you after waiting for-what-felt-like-ever. Horny, teenage Sunwoo would be jumping for joy over this.

He remembers the first time he met you. Eric had invited him, Haknyeon, and other members of the team over to your shared apartment for a team bonding during their second year. The only thought in his mind upon seeing you was ‘damn, I love older women.’ You were just so sure of yourself, he couldn’t help the tightness in his pants and the thumping in his chest.

And those feelings never seemed to fade.

In fact, it appeared that they grew with time. He’d dated other girls since then, especially because he was so popular in high school and in university. Yet for some reason he could never quite pinpoint, things never worked out. They just didn’t feel like the one for him, so he’d end the relationship before anyone got hurt more than they had to. Then the yearly trip would happen and Eric would update him on your life and his crush on you would come rushing back to him.

Even when you’d gotten engaged a few years ago, nothing could stop the way his heart beat only for you and you alone. He didn’t really like the dude all that much, but expressed support for you anyway because he wanted you to be happy. After Eric told him that he broke off the engagement to pursue someone else, Sunwoo just about lost it. He wanted to hunt the guy down himself. He couldn’t fathom how one could just throw away the once in a lifetime opportunity of calling you his. You deserved the world and so much more.

Everything resurfaces and it’s evident in the way his fingers dive even deeper inside of you, his appendage lapping mercilessly at your aching clit. You don’t question him even if you wanted to, your entire body feeling like it’s on cloud 9. He takes a break from licking and sucks at the sweet spot harshly, ripping out a prolonged moan from your lips.

Your release is in your field of vision now, so close that you can nearly taste it. You attempt to buck your hips up into his mouth to chase what you’re yearning for. He senses exactly what’s happening, so he slows his assault, much to your aggravation. You can’t even help the pleas that tumble from the back of your throat.

“No no no no, please,” you sit up, your hands still intertwined with his messy brown locks. “Sun, please… why’d you stop?”

His smile is almost conniving, you swear you can see his canines peeking through. He hovers above you, caging you between his torso and the bed. “You've been having all the fun, so now I think it’s time I have some, too.”

You’re about to ask what he means, when he steps back to undo his belt and zipper, pushing down his pants in record speed. Even through the black material of his (expensive looking) briefs, you can tell he’s well endowed. You rub your legs together, still sensitive from being deprived of your orgasm, and your hunger for all of him increases immensely.

“Eager, are we?” He chuckles, switching places with you. He sits at the edge of the bed, his legs open enough for you to fit between them. You bite your bottom lip, gripping each of his muscular thighs. It wouldn’t be such a bad thing to get crushed by them. It sure would be a hell of a way to die.

He leans back onto his palms, bunching up the sheets in his fists. You move forward to press your mouths in a searing kiss, cupping his clothed erection in your hand. He groans as his teeth nearly gnash with yours. You seize the chance to discard his underwear and massage his cock. The warmth and length of it makes your mouth water, almost whimpering at how flushed it is. You can tell that he’s painfully hard in the way he’s extremely responsive to all of your touches. You swipe your thumb over his slit, collecting the pre cum that’s formed there.

After deciding that enough is enough, he parts from you in favor of ordering you to get on your knees. You maintain eye contact as you wrap your lips around him, the nerves you’d been feeling all night finally washing off. Your tongue swirls around the tip a few times before it licks a broad line from the base back up along the underside. You take him down your throat this time, massaging his balls as you do so. Your cheeks hollow out as you bob your head, your hands jerking what you can’t fit.

An erratic knock at the door startles both of you and you’re about to remove yourself from him, but he keeps you there with a large hand, urging you to continue. You listen reluctantly, assuming the person would just go away if you ignored them.

However, the knock comes again moments later. Sunwoo looks down at you. His eyes tell you all you need to know, so you don’t stop.

“Sunwoo! Hey, have you seen my sister? She’s not in her room.”

You practically choke on him at the sound of your brother’s voice, but he still doesn’t let you pause. His attention doesn’t leave you as he replies.

“Uh yeah, she’s borrowing my shower. Hers wasn’t working.” He lies. His eyes bore into yours intensely, the knowledge that he had Eric’s hot older sister right here in front of him on her knees shrouding his mind.

The brunette outside seems to find that answer sufficient enough and doesn’t interrogate further. “Okay, cool. Just tell her to text me when she gets back to her room.”

“You got it.”

His footsteps can be heard padding against the carpet of the hallway as he walks away.

Your nose brushes against the hair at the base of his cock before he cups your cheeks and lifts your mouth off of him. You take in a deep breath, keeping your hands on his dick firmly. As you regain your breathing, you leave kisses all over, starting at the tip and ending down the shaft. You feel him shudder beneath you, a satisfaction coming from knowing that you’re the one who has him so weak.

You had Kim Sunwoo wrapped around your pretty little finger.

Unbeknownst to you, that’d always been the case. Since day one. But it didn’t matter at the moment. All that either of you cared about right now was wrecking each other.

He slides his cock down your throat again, loving the sight of you getting face fucked by him. You moan around him, the vibrations causing him to grasp at your hair tightly, though you don’t mind the sting either.

“You look so gorgeous like this, sweetheart. Your lips look so pretty wrapped around me. Can’t wait until I’m inside you,” he hisses when your tongue runs over his slit. “You want me to fuck you into the mattress? Until you can’t even remember your own name?”

You release him from your lips once more, nodding frantically. It’s almost pathetic how needy you are for him, your brother’s best friend, someone nearly ten years younger than yourself. “Yes, please, Sunwoo. I want you so bad. I want you to fuck me so hard, I can’t walk properly.”

His smirk from your pleads is ungodly. He swipes his thumb across your bottom lip, pinching it between his fingers before he pulls you up to kiss you roughly. Even though he has this big dominant act up on display, you know he wants you just as much. And he conveys it in the desperate way he moves his mouth against yours with such fervor.

After a few minutes, both of you get sick of wasting time and he flips you around so you’re on your back. He nips at your neck, whispering dirtily as he pumps himself in his hands.

“The only thing I want on your mind is me, you got that?” He lines his dick up with your hole, nibbling on your earlobe while he does so. “The name Kim Sunwoo is gonna be engraved in your fucking brain after tonight.”

Without any semblance of a warning, he pushes himself in, giving you no time for adjustment. His cock fills you up nicely, better than you’ve ever been before, and the feeling alone rips a particularly loud moan out of you. “Oh my god, Sun. Y-you're so big and your cock f-feels so g-good. So s-so good.”

“You’re so tight, your pussy is squeezing me. You gonna cream on my dick?”

He gives you another one of those sly grins, where it’s almost like he’s baring his canines to you, and you swear you’ve never wanted to be ruined as much as you do now.

His pace is unrelenting, nothing but sheer power going into every thrust of his hips. His cock hits places deep inside that you didn’t know existed. It amazes you how much stamina he has and it doesn’t appear like he’s letting up any time soon.

“Sunwoo, just like that— f-fuck yes— right there,”

“Look at you, Y/N, so fucking messy and all because of me.”

He hooks one of your knees on his shoulder, plunging even further into your pussy. The mewl you release is voluminous, enough to wake up anyone in the rooms surrounding his. One of his hands holds your leg in place while the other travels south, gripping your side and using his thumb to vigorously circle your clit.

The added stimulation is just what you need to nudge you closer to your tipping point, what you were deprived of earlier. He, of course, notices that and stops his attack with his finger. You whine in protest, not wanting to deal with his teasing again right now.

You open your mouth to express your distaste at the same moment he rolls his hips experimentally. So instead of complaining about his edging, you let out a choked groan.

“Sunwoo, please, let me cum. Please, I'm begging. I need to.” You hate that you’re in this position, but you can’t hold out much longer. Fatigue is catching up to you and if you don’t cum soon, you might pass out.

“You wanna cum, baby? You want me to let you cum?” He all but growls in your ear. You moan wantonly in response, quickly becoming a babbling mess. “I think you can wait a bit longer. Take it like a big girl, yeah?”

Your other leg wraps around his waist, allowing his already buried cock to kiss at your cervix. The new angle is unhinged, short circuiting your brain. Discarding any thought behind your actions, moving on autopilot, you pull him down to press your mouths together.

The combination of passion and pure lust drives both of you wild, fueling your desires. His lips part from yours and he moans breathily as you clench down on him, the exhale fanning over the lower part of your face. The sound is unlike anything you’ve heard before and you’d do just about anything to hear it again. The brunette was completely unaware of the effects he had on you, something as simple as a noise kicking you into high gear.

But it seems even he’s reaching his limits, not able to hold himself back anymore. In an attempt to finish you both off quickly, he brutalizes each piston of his pelvis. Your nails sink into his shoulders.

“F-fuck— S-Sunwoo I’m gonna— I’m gonna cum— so fucking—“

His thumb finds its way back to your clit and resumes its previous attack, the other circling around a peaked nipple, cutting you off. You arch into him, trying to bring the two of you impossibly closer. His cock rams in and out of you almost inhumanely at the rate he was going. With one particularly harsh thrust, he commands,

“Cum for me, sweetheart.”

The words send you overboard and you release around him, simultaneously gripping him like a vice and moaning so pornographically, you kind of feel bad for everyone else staying on this floor. Your whole body spasms with your orgasm, hushed moans falling from your swollen lips. Seconds later the twitch of his dick alerts you as he follows, filling you up with the warmth of his own cum. Had he not still been inside you, you were certain it’d flow right out, something akin to Niagara Falls. But you’re both too busy trying to catch your breaths to really pay attention to any of that extra stuff.

The ache was settling in your bones instantaneously, and you half-regretted encouraging him to ‘fuck you so hard you couldn’t walk properly’.

After what feels like an eternity, he slowly pulls out his softening cock, your pussy clenching at nothing and feeling empty as he presses a soft peck on the tip of your nose, his dominant personality dissipating along with it.

The moment feels strangely domestic, his coos of praise and the worry that he was too rough with you not flying over your head. Things like ‘you did so well, sweetheart’, ‘I’m so proud of you, baby’, and ‘your pussy was made for my cock’ floated around the air. He caressed your belly with one hand and your hair with the other before pulling himself away from you fully.

“Let me go get you a towel,” he smiles warmly, disappearing into the bathroom he told your brother you were borrowing. When he comes back, he has a fresh pair of briefs on and a damp washcloth on his forearm. “You know, I‘ve had the biggest crush on you since high school. The moment Eric introduced us, I practically fell in love.”

He carefully cleans up your cum covered thighs, weary of how sensitive you are. It dawns on him that you’re fighting back your sleep, but he also realizes that you can’t stay in his room, running the risk of being compromised and Eric finding out. He helps you into a sitting position and leads you to the bath.

He washes your hair and body for you, increasing the overwhelming amount of domesticity that you already started to feel. Even with his admission, you didn’t want to assume that this was something he really wanted. You’d made that mistake before, with your asshole of an ex fiancé, and you couldn’t stomach the thought of that happening with him. He was a young, hot professional baseball player. Why would he want to be tied down to you?

With a towel wrapped tightly around your body and your clothes draped over a shoulder, he aids you in your sneaky trip to your own hotel room. You fumble a bit with the key card, nervous under his gaze for some reason. When you finally get it open, you hurriedly enter, desperate to get away from him to avoid small talk. You were a grown ass woman and here you were, acting like a petulant child.

He reaches for your wrist and stops you prior to getting too far past the door frame. “Hey, hey, what’s the matter? Why won't you look at me? Did— did I do something wrong?”

“N-no! You didn’t. I just— I don't wanna misinterpret the situation...” You betray yourself and look him in the eyes, nearly melting at the soft chocolate color staring right back. He leans forward to kiss you on the lips. It isn’t rushed or forceful like any of the others from earlier in the night. It’s more like the loving one he placed on your nose. It conveys exactly what he wants to say, but can’t put into words, and rids of your doubts all at once. You instinctively shut your eyes, a smile working its way across your face.

“I’ll see you in the morning, sweetheart. Goodnight,” is what he leaves you with, scampering off to his room.

You bring your fingers up to your lips, the stupid grin not disappearing. He wasn’t kidding when he said the name Kim Sunwoo would be engraved in your brain tonight.

The next day, the four of you visit one of the beaches. You chuckle to yourself as you observe Eric and Haknyeon attempting to skimboard, but failing miserably. Your brother flies forward when his board skids to a stop and he stumbles a bit before regaining his bearings. The older laughs at him, hunching over and clutching his stomach as he does so.

Your eyes stay on them for a bit, but your head turns at the sound of footsteps approaching you and the beach towel you were sitting on. You finally glance over when a grunt fills your ears over the crashing waves. Sunwoo leans back onto his palms, sunglasses perched on top of his head. The goods you wanted were set between you, a bag nearly full to the brim with mandarin oranges.

On your way to the beach, you passed a vendor on the street selling different fruits. Among said fruits were the mandarins that caught your attention. You pouted when you realized you left your purse at the hotel, only having your I.D. on you. Being absolutely smitten with you and having no self control, Sunwoo made a promise to himself to come back when you were least expecting to buy you as many as he physically could. (Gift giving was one of his love languages.)

He smiles as your eyes light up like a Christmas tree in August, instinctively reaching for one of the oranges. You bring it up to your nose to smell the faint citrusy scent of the rind, humming contentedly afterwards. With the summer breeze blowing through your hair, the humidity painting your cheeks rosy and the sun behind you giving you a halo-like glow, you look like a scene ripped straight from a movie. Sunwoo feels like the most fortunate guy in the world knowing that he’s the only person who gets to see you like this, committing the visual to memory so he can look back on it whenever he pleases.

He decides that he could die right here right now, and he’d be satisfied with his life. He can already see it, his headstone; Rest in Peace Kim Sunwoo, 2000-2023.

You slowly start to peel the mandarin, each corner of your lips curled upwards. You pop a piece into your mouth, closing your eyes and savoring the taste of its nectar. Without pausing to think about it, you scoot closer to Sunwoo, feeding him some of the orange. A small giggle escapes the back of your throat when he smiles again, this time at how much more comfortable you are with him. (And also how yummy the mandarin is.)

“It almost tastes as sweet as you.”

He meant for it to be an innocent insinuation, but completely forgot about the fact that it could be misconceived as an innuendo. You slap his shoulder with a gasp because that’s exactly how you took it, and he raises his hands in surrender.

“Woah, I was trying to be cute. You’re the one with the dirty mind.”

You roll your eyes, shoving a few more pieces of mandarin into his mouth to shut him up. “Kim Sunwoo, you’re lucky I like you.”

His cheeks are puffed up with the fruit and he tries to smile at you, his pouty lips making him look a little silly. You press a quick kiss to them, forgetting that you were very much in public. He turns to you with eyes like a deer caught in headlights.

“What if Eric sees?” He swallows thickly.

You shake your head. “Let him. I’m happy. That’s all he really cares about.”

It befuddles you that just a week ago, you never would’ve thought this could happen. A week ago, Sunwoo was still that high school boy who stuttered whenever he spoke to you and came over to yours and Eric’s apartment every day after school. A week ago, you were still apprehensive about putting yourself out there, out of fear that you’d just get hurt again. But somehow, Sunwoo managed to change your entire perspective. And sitting here on this beach towel, feeding him mandarins and giggling at his jokes solidifies that for you.

#the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #the boyz sunwoo #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz smut #tbz sunwoo #kim sunwoo #kim sunwoo x reader #kim sunwoo smut #sunwoo #sunwoo x reader #sunwoo smut #juyeonszn

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jarofstyles · 6 months

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Wildfire- Flame Finale

The final part 😭😭😭

I hope you enjoyed! I absolutely will do some blurbs if you guys want for them :) enjoy!

WC: 4k

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——

“There y’are.”

Y/N squealed as she felt hands haul her backwards, melting into his broad chest as she was greeted with a smattering of kisses against her cheek. A squeaking noise left her lips as a tiny giggle erupted against her will, her messenger bag falling off of her shoulder, large hands settling against her soft stomach. The tip of his nose was cold but it gave her the shivers, nudging her warm skin. He must have been waiting outside the building for a bit for her class to end. He had said he would be waiting for her but she had been searching out his car- not his being.

“You scared the shit out of me.” Y/N huffed, trying to meld back into the grumpy version of her that had been left in bed earlier this morning. She committed to the bits she had, that was something she was dedicated to. “Rude. It’s freezing out here, are you crazy?”

The temperatures had started their unfortunate yearly drop a bit earlier this year, but Harry didn’t see much of a problem with it now that he had someone to snuggle with in the early mornings. When she hadn’t woken up yet and snored softly, wheezy noises came from her peaceful body and her body soaked in every bit of his ‘furnace like’ body heat she had complained about when the weather had been warmer. She would curl further into him these days, sticking her cold feet in between his legs and hiding herself under the covers and letting his head peek out to ‘watch for danger’ while she hid in his chest. He had never known how much the little things really did add up.

“Crazy for you, my love.” He cooed, meaning every word of it. He also knew it would get the little gag from her, pretending she hated his mushy, gushy words and how much of a complete and utter sap he was. He would pretend he believed the act. “C’mon, you love it.” he let her turn in his arms, his grin wide on his face. Y/N could see his flushed cheeks and pink nose from standing out in the cold instead of the warmth of his car to pick her up and she felt that little burst of fondness move through her tummy up to her chest. Leaning up, she graced him with a chaste peck to his lips. “I love you. Not your gross mushy stuff. And m’still annoyed with you.”

She wasn't. She was milking it and they both knew that, but as Harry usually did, he went along with her little faux tantrum.

“I had to leave for class this morning, dove.” His exhaled was soft, the warm breath against her lips making her nose crinkle before pulling back and folding her hand with his. “You’re the one who’s been telling me how important it is for me to go.”

“Since when did you listen to me?” She scoffed. “You could have blown it off and spent the morning with me. It was so cold. I was all alone when I woke up again.” Y/N pouted just a little bit and he couldn’t help but smile, shaking his head as he tugged on their joined fingers to lead her towards his car. “Like the damn arctic. Your big, hairy, manly furnace body had taken all the heat. For what? For class you don’t even like?”

“Well, first of all, it’s quite literally your fault it’s freezing. You insist on the bloody fan being on all night long and leaving the window open a crack because you ‘fall asleep better cold and warmed by me’ so… you can’t blame me for that. However, the second thing? It’s not like I wanted to. I had to. I’ve been slacking off ever since you’ve moved in.” He joked, nudging her arm with his own. It was his own doing, really, and he knew it. He needed to be better about it but he often slacked off of classes because it was a lot more appealing to soak in the syrupy kisses and soft, dreamy whispers she could give him. Y/N freshly woken up - in the right way- was the softest he could get her without being the one to fuck it out of her.

They were quite a way into their relationship now, months and months under their belts when they’d finally decided to move into Harry’s place together. His was the choice because it had far more space and their landlord would allow pets. Something Y/N wanted desperately when they graduated and had more time to dedicate to one. His space had truly become theirs over the last few months. It had been littered with her things for ages now but he had never seen so many hair ties and bobby pins in his life. Never knew how many pairs of socks two people went through in a wash, never knew how much bathroom space she could take up. Thank god he had two bathrooms. She had effectively booted him from the master.

Harry didn't mind though. If it meant having her there, he was happy. He didn’t need personal space when it came to Y/N. She was his other half. His soul mate in every sort of way.

Living together officially had taught him a lot of little things about her. She had different shampoos and conditioners for different ‘phases’ of hair washes. She bought razors in bulk, the pink and blue ones, until Harry had convinced her to go for a more sustainable one with refillable cartridges. She had an addiction to the sugar scrubs of different scents or ‘flavors’ as she insisted they call them. She hated wet bath mats and always changed it because stepping on a wet mat ruined her night. She sometimes neglected to properly wash the toothpaste out of the sink when she was in a rush but she got upset about it once so he decided to clean it whenever he noticed. The little things mattered quite a bit to him, he was finding out more and more.

“Ugh.” Y/N grunted. “We’re almost done. You can take some participation points. Especially when I was planning on doing some dirty shit this morning and you ruined all my plans.” her pout was now morphing into a teeny smirk, knowing that would get him. Y/N had harped on the importance of going to class but now that they lived together, it felt a lot different. Waking up without harry felt astonishingly sad, as dramatic as that was. She liked to be a bit indulgent in her mornings now, rarely waking before him but hoping for the opportunity to see his floppy hair and the stubble that grew overnight to give him a bit of that rugged look. His sleepy eyes when he woke up and his big cat like stretch that he did once he was awake enough to feel the stiffness in his joints. Those things had her falling deeper in love with him.

She had been unsure how sex would be after they confessed their love, but if anything? It had gotten even better. Miles better. The full trust, the lack of secret feelings and fully letting them bloom and plant more seeds of love in every single time they joined that way, it had improved their connection. Sex with feelings was so much better than anything else they'd experienced. Plus, there was no fear in asking to try something out. Kinks, experiments, anything. Sex had a new meaning between the both of them.

Harry was quiet for a moment which she knew was him internally cursing.

“Well you didn’t tell me that.” He replied, a bit strained. “You just told me not to leave and you’d be cold in that sad, sweet little morning voice and broke my heart a little. I didn’t know you were planning on being a dirty little minx.”

“I’m always planning on being a dirty little minx, Harry. Keep up.”

Y/N still kept him on his toes. She kept him close, but popped him on the ass to keep things exciting. Harry ate every bit of it up. Every sassy remark, every eye roll, every sweet secret snuggle under the covers. He had fallen in love with her when she gave him the most shit, when she poked fun of him and smacked his ass when he walked past, when she would take the piss out of him for the matching mugs he bought at the shops but used hers every day. Y/N’s personality had many layers and he loved each and every one as she uncovered them to him. She wasn’t just his lover- she was his best friend.

“I’m trying, baby. I’m always gonna try.”

—--

“It was bad enough when you two were macking on each other when you were drunk. Seeing it sober is going to make me need to bleach my eyes.” Niall groaned, pressing the pint to his face as if to mask him from their chaste pecks.

Y/N narrowed her eyes at the man, turning back to Harry and grabbing his cheeks in her hands before planting a real kiss on his mouth. It was out of spite, yes, but she would never say no to an opportunity to kiss Harry. The man took it in stride, placing his own bottle down and hooking a hand around the back of her neck with a pleased yet surprised hum as he leaned down to keep up with her. It was when tongue was visible and Harry let out a groan that Niall began to make his protess loud.

“Oi! Enough! Enough! Is this a softcore porno? Give it a rest!” He hissed, making the rest of the table chuckle.

“You kind of asked for it, Ni. They were being cute before and you had to make a snide comment. You know how Y/N is.” Sarah laughed, leaning into Mitch with a shake of the head.

Y/N pulled away from Harry with an audible pop, looking over to the man. “If you kept your mouth shut and let me say hello to my boyfriend in peace instead of groaning and moaning like a little bitch like you do every time, perhaps I wouldn’t have to do it.” She shrugged. Pulling her sweater sleeve over her thumb, she turned back to Harry and wiped a bit of lip gloss from the corners of his lips. As pretty as he looked with glossy lips, the shade she was wearing didn't suit his skintone today. His olive undertones had said thanks, but no thanks.

“I never would have thought that Y/N would turn into a mushy and soft girl for anyone. She hated men before Harry.” Adam admitted, which was honestly the thoughts of a lot of the group. Y/N hadn’t been a very warm and fuzzy person but with Harry, she allowed herself to be visibly sweet and vulnerable in a way that made them all genuinely happy for them. Harry had looked at her like she hung the moon and the stars even before they got together, the both of them oblivious to those feelings, but she had been the shocker.

“Uh, don’t get it messed up. I still hate them. Not Harry, like every basic girl will say, but he knows and will be paying for his crimes. He knows.” she shrugged, lifting his arm and snuggling into his warmth. Her own drink was half finished but she preferred to cuddle up with him. He had a long three days of classes and work after so she hadn’t gotten much time with him. She wasn’t going to skimp on giving him a kiss because she knew Niall would groan and complain.

Harry was smart, simply nodding and raising the drink Y/N had ordered for him. He didn’t mind letting Y/N take the lead for this sort of thing. She didn’t need him defending their honor when she did it so easily and very, very well.

“I know when to keep my mouth shut, mate. You should give it a try.” He snickered at Niall who rolled his eyes.

“You are whipped. The mighty have fallen. You’re a househusband as it is, I can’t believe it. Like a little puppy, you follow her around. If it wasn’t cute, I’d be having an intervention.” Niall fake gagged again. His banter with Y/N about their relationship was a frequent thing at this point and they were all used to it, their heads pin-ponging back and forth as they spoke.

“I can not wait until you fall in love, Niall. I will take every single opportunity to remind you of these words right here.” Harry sighed dreamily. “I am going to tell your lover exactly what you said and they will probably take the piss right along with me. I hope you get t’fall in love like I have. It’s my wish for all my mates.”

“I will never be as sappy as you, H. Never. Mark my words right here and now. Y/N has some sort of spell over you and I applaud her for that, but no one is going to turn me into that pile of goo you turn into whenever she calls you ‘baby.” The man snickered but everyone else around them smirked knowingly. Niall put up a good front, but when it came down to it.. They would all see.

“Trust me, I am. It’s marked and set. I will come back to this conversation one day and you will eat those words.”

The night continued as usual, but Y/N felt more needy than usual. Her affection was more blatant, both to annoy Niall and make him slightly uncomfortable being one of the only single ones in the group now, but also having missed Harry quite a bit. Her cheek rested against the soft fabric of his jumper, his shoulder broad and a good thing to relax on. Her hand held his firmly as she stayed quiet, observing him interact with their friends. Seeing him simply exist as a human was so fascinating to her. Y/N wasn’t always a major talker and Harry didn’t mind. He kept his routine of checking in, making sure she was okay and pressing kisses to the crown of her head in between lulls of conversation. Even distracted, he was attentive to her emotions.

“Y’good?” he whispered against her hair. “I want to go home in a few minutes. The shift kicked my ass and I need some quiet. That's okay with you?” Harry would stay longer if she wanted but he could tell she wanted to go home. They’d been more and more busy lately so meeting up wasn’t as frequent as their friends would like, so both of them had said they needed to make more of an effort. It was easy for them both to spend all of their free time with each other and forget about other socializing. They were truly best friends, so time together at home was their first choice most of the time. Harry had always been more social than her though, so she put thought into that when they had first started dating for real and made sure to plan meetings with friends when she could. She didn’t want them to resent them together because they were now dating and attached at the hip.

It had worked quite well. Everyone had gotten busier though, so it was more understandable now. Y/N was selfish with Harry and he with her, though. They’d had enough socializing for a while now that they’d been in a bar for a hair too long. Y/N was itching to get home to their quiet and peaceful home they’d been curating together and spend time together alone. Navigating the time spent between school, work and friends hadn’t been easy, no, but it had 1000% worth it. Harry was worth every single effort she could make.

Harry's deep voice broke her out of her thoughts, his hand slipping out from behind her to hold her own, standing up to help her up. “Let’s get out of here and have some wine at home, hm?”

—-

“Isn’t it crazy?” Y/N asked softly as they curled up naked on the couch yet again. His fingers twirled damp strands of hair as he turned to look at her eyes, slightly hooded as they recovered from a lazy, dirty fuck. One of his absolute favorites. Freshly shower Y/N coming into the living room where he had been on his laptop, dropping her towel and standing there with an arched eyebrow. She was his for the taking, so naturally he snapped the top of the laptop closed and lifted his hips up to dispose of his sweats.

“What, my love?” He asked, still a bit groggy from the post orgasm haze. She had done that thing with her hips and he had cum quite hard. In fact, he was still inside of her, keeping all his cum snug and safe. They’d need to get up in a few moments, but he was relishing in keeping himself warm inside of her. That being said- he hadn’t full been paying attention to what she said.

“Just said that we were two idiots and we almost lost each other because we had communication issues. Well…” she paused. “I did. I got scared. For a bit I thought you were too good for me. Sometimes I still think that. But I was so scared of the possibility, so against being hopeful that I was dumb on purpose. Waiting to be hurt when I didn’t have t’be.” her cheek was stuck against his slightly sticky chest, fingers brushing through the thin dusting of chest hair between his pecs. He had started to leave it alone once she mentioned how sexy she found it.

“I do think it’s crazy. But I was the same way. At least we were idiots together, yeah?” His laugh vibrated against her cheek. “We had to confront it sometime. We’ve gotten loads better at talking since then, too. You n’me, a dream team. No more hiding stuff, unless it’s the times you go about and drink the last of the orange juice and try and gaslight me to say I did it.” He snorted, making Y/N groan.

“One time. That was one time, and I genuinely forgot because I was hammered.” Y/N defended. “We have gotten better though. I only threaten to break up with you twice a day, probably.” It was an ongoing joke that neither of them were bothered by. Y/N threatened him with it for sneezing one too many times in a row. They both knew they were never going to break up.

“Mhm… Can threaten it as much as you want, but we both know you’re gonna be my wife.” his finger gently brushed the bridge of her nose. “Soon m’gonna lock you down. Ring so heavy you’re cemented to the floor, all of that.” The discussion of marriage had already been had. Harry wanted to wait until they were settled in jobs, at least him, wanted to find a place they wanted to be. Probably close to his family since she had been welcomed into it so easily and was in cahoots with his sister. It was brutal, his two biggest protectors and bullies wrapped into one.

“So what is the point of this one?” Her hand raised in the air, the gold and blue gem sparkling against her skin.

“That’s just the promise, my love. The real ring for the real question will be much bigger.” He smiled, bringing the hand to his mouth and pressing a smooth kiss to her ring finger. The promise ring had been given just a month ago, promising her that he was devoted to her. To their future. They were finishing school and he wanted them to finish and for him to be able to make more to save up for the ring she deserved. The one on her hand hadn’t been cheap, no, but he had caught her looking on etsy at it multiple times before closing the browser. He had surprised her after a nice dinner and a drive down to the boardwalk to let her know just how devoted he was to her.

“I mean.. Don’t go too crazy, H. I need to be able to use my hands with it on every day.” Y/N warned. Harry loved to spoil the shit out of her. It always had made her a mix of giddy and uncomfortable. Happy to be thought of, that he cared that much and loved her enough to want to take care of her and get her things, but unable even still to fully let go of the slight guilt of him spending money on her. The one soothing factor was how happy he got to do it. To give her things and see her reaction, his wide smile when she gasped or thanked him over and over again. It seemed neither of them were truly ever disappointed, even when she teased him about the gifts.

“Sorry. I’m gonna go crazy. As big as I can go while being practical. I need a warning signal for all around that you’re mine, taken, and loved. People already try t’mug me off and flirt with you as it is. They’ve got t’get a clue.” he was partially kidding. “But really, you deserve it. Deserve an expensive, pretty ring. Gorgeous ring for my gorgeous girl. I’m plotting and scheming behind the scenes, my darling. Don’t worry too much about it.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head before closing her eyes. His fingers were gently tugging at her hair as he played with it, another few kisses pressed to her hand before he placed their joined palms back on his chest. “Dunno why you’re laughing, baby. I’ve told you many times that m’gonna spend my whole life making sure that flame in your heart keeps getting bigger and hotter. Want my fiery girl to feel loved and confident every damn day of her life. So its not a joke, it’s a promise. You’re going to get the nice ring and whatever sort of wedding you want one day. We’re gonna spend a few weeks traveling across Europe for our honeymoon because that’s what you want t’do, and you’re going to be the first thing I see when I wake up every morning. Sounds like the perfect trade off.”

Harry knew it was a privilege to love her. He had always felt lucky that she had decided he was cool and funny enough to be her friend and then had managed to become her best friend. Now he was her lover, her confidant, her one day husband. He hadn’t known how he managed to get this lucky but he would never take it for granted.

The phrase of if he wanted to, he would, often hung over her head because it was true. Harry and this relationship had proved that to her time and time again. He was never too tired, never annoyed to do things for her. He thought of things on his own, he surprised her, he respected her time and space. Y/N didn’t need to ask for much because they were usually on the same page.

“I love you.” She whispered, lifting her head up enough to kiss his jaw. “Love you more than anything. Even if you’re a sappy, cheesy little thing. I’m really lucky to be loved by a man like you, H.”

“There’s no one else I want to love, Y/N. It’s always been you.”

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soniclozdplove · 7 months

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I know in the recent Helluva episode Blitzo didn't actually do much in the grand scheme of things and a lot of people are wondering if there was even a point to him being there but... I think there actually was. From what we can gather from the opening of the episode and the opening of Oops, isn't the first time Ozzie has had this discussion with Fizz about how he doesn't like how much Mammon exploits him and that this is likely a yearly argument between the two. So if it was just Ozzie alone constantly asking Fizz if he's alright and talking shit about Mammon, Fizz could write the whole thing off as Ozzie just being his usual overprotective self and ignore it like he tries to do.

But Blitzo is different.

With Ozzie, he can write off his worries as his significant other being overprotective as usual. But he only recently rekindled his friendship with Blitzo and the flashback at the start of the episode proves that when they were younger it had always been Blitzo who had kept Fizzaroli safe and protected hin from creeps, and here he was doing the exact same thing again.

I like to think that conversation right before the Glam sisters came on was what finally let Ozzie get through to Fizz and the root of the issue. Because Blitzo won't beat around the bush or lie, and Fizzaroli knows this. The two are childhood friends who grew up knowing practically everything about the other, and in the short time interactions they've had together after being separated for 15 years, not once has Blitzo ever held back on him unless it involved Blitzo's own emotional vulnerability, even when they still hated each other.

So basically, my take in the episode and the discourse over why Blitzo eas there was that he needed to be there, not as a core part of the story, but as a second figure to look after and give Fizz support. He was the backup to Fizz while he, Mammon, and Ozzie were the narrative focus.

#helluva boss #hellaverse #fizzarolli #fizzarozzie #fizzmodeus #fizzaroli helluva boss #blitzo #blitzø #helluva blitzo #spoilers #helluva boss spoilers #helluva boss mammon #mammon's magnificent musical

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the-teddy-roosevelt · 24 days

Text

Let me tell you a little thing about cars.

I have had a gripe against modern car design, at least here in the States, for the longest time. Recently I have seen the utter abominations of the 21st century be more and more common and finally decided to share my stance to the wonderful world of the internet! So, be prepared for a lot of reading because this is a full scale rant with the occasional photo.

And now: Why Modern Car Design is Going to Kill Us All.

I have been doing much research these past months as I continued to observe more of these "newer designs" I have spoken so much about, and there are a few things I need to delve into.

The Flat Front

Supersize Me 2: Not so Electric Boogaloo

Elon's Bastard of a Car

The Flat Front

So, these cars I have been talking about, just to be more specific, are SUVs and Light Trucks/Pickup Trucks.

You see that massive, flat front in the image above? Well, believe it or not, that is causing more deaths in car-related accidents yearly! Due to being so boxy, when a pedestrian is hit, they are more likely to break bones around the torso/head, then pull the person UNDER the car rather than how a car normally would hit the person's legs, then they would hit the hood of the car.

These can also create massive blind spots/zones where you can't see what is right in front of you.

I shall dive more into this in the next section.

Supersize Me 2: Not so Electric Boogaloo

So, onto the next section. As you can see above you, this is a comparison of two cars, only 24 years apart(end of Escort to start of F-350). Only 24 years, and it had a 246% increase in weight, was 91.7 in. or about 7.64 ft. longer, and 26.8 in. or about 2.2 ft. taller.

This is a dramatic increase for little to no reason other than to "protect the drivers". As we have discussed in section 1, this is not the case. In fact, if one of these larger SUVs were to hit another, usually smaller car, it is more likely for the smaller driver to be killed, or at least seriously harmed by the bigger vehicle.

Speaking of smaller, children:

Children are one of the biggest victims of these larger cars with them being run over either in frontovers or backovers, most often by their own parents in a driveway.

If you don't fully believe me that these cars are truly big enough to run over the younger side of children, an entire experiment was done, putting kids in front of parked cars, and just look:

Terrifying.

I addition to this, the larger frame of these cars means that they create more pollution. Let me explain: The bigger cars needed more fuel, that means more fossil fuels being burned, and due to the US's car based infrastructure, there are more cars being produced, that is even more fossil fuels for both production and upkeep, and more pollution.

But oh dear reader, these SUVs and Light Trucks are not even the worst of it...

Elon's Bastard of a Car

Gentlemen, women, and all of you folk in between, I give you: The Tesla Cybertruck.

This... Thing, is the bane of everything I hate about modern car design, from the boxy shape going throughout the car, to being an "indestructible" vehicle, and its ability to kill anyone.

Okay, that is a lot I am claiming, so lets break it down.

We have already talked about how dangerous the box design is, but the Cybertruck appears to be a geometry problem found in high-school. This is unbelievably dangerous, making any crashes with other cars much more likely fatal.

The fatalities can also be helped by the fact the damn car is made of STAINLESS STEEL and "indestructible" according to advertising. Most cars are made to be able to crunch in order to let the force of impact be more spread out throughout the vehicle. Yes, it will cost quite a bit to fix, but hey, you're alive. Meanwhile when it is made out of such a hard material, such as steel, that crunch isn't going to happen and only kill the people inside the vehicle, and the people crashing into the giant steel block.

The company claims it can go from zero to 60 miles per hour in 2.6 seconds, which, if true, would mean it has a faster acceleration than most NASCAR and Formula 1 vehicles, with none of the accompanying engine roar to warn anyone that it's coming. The headlight, meanwhile, is one single bar of light, which some experts are already worried will blind oncoming drivers.

There are so many other things about this utter abomination that I would love to talk about, but I think this is where I'll leave off.

One last thing, I just want to say how this is mostly my experience and research from the United States of America, and not the rest of the world. Also, I do not see these things getting much better unless somehow the US removes all of its car based infrastructure.

Thank you for reading my friends, and remember, fuck monopolies.

#rant #cars #cybertruck #rant post #fuck cars #elon is an idiot #this took way too long

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 1 year

Text

North To The Future [Chapter 7: King Of Wishful Thinking]

The year is 1999. You are just beginning your veterinary practice in Juneau, Alaska. Aegon is a mysterious, troubled newcomer to town. You kind of hate him. You are also kind of obsessed with him. Falling for him might legitimately ruin your life…but can you help it? Oh, and there’s a serial killer on the loose known only as the Ice Fisher.

Chapter warnings: Language, alcoholism, addiction, murder, discussions of sex, outdoor excursions, Trent being the Hulk, Sunfyre sightings, emotional outbursts, a late-night phone call, a wild traumatic backstory appears! Also I have bronchitis and wrote this while very heavily medicated, in my Aegon Era you could say.

Word count: 6.7k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: @elsolario @meadowofsinfulthoughts @ladylannisterxo @doingfondue @tclegane @quartzs-posts @liathelioness @aemcndtargaryen @thelittleswanao3 @burningcoffeetimetravel @b1gb3anz @hinata7346 @poohxlove @borikenlove @myspotofcraziness @travelingmypassion @graykageyama @skythighs @lauraneedstochill @darlingimafangirl @charenlie @thewew @eddies-bat-tattoos @minttea07 @joliettes @trifoliumviridi @bornbetter @flowerpotmage @thewitch-lives

Please let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! 💜

When you return from helping to deliver a calf on Mr. Campbell’s reindeer farm, you find Aegon in the vet clinic lobby. He is squaring up with Jennifer; the heap of twenty-dollar bills he stacks on the counter are crisp and uncrumpled, very much unlike his usual currency. He counts until he gets to $300 and then tucks his thin, tattered wallet into the back pocket of his jeans. He’s wearing half of his hair in a man bun again, along with his long-sleeve shirt that’s striped with black and white: night and stars, ink and snow. He startles when he turns to leave and sees you.

“How did you get that?”

“I told you,” Aegon says. “I sold a kidney. The slicing part was unpleasant, but I feel so much lighter now.”

“No, really.”

He shrugs nonchalantly. He seems mostly sober. “I pawned something.”

“Pawned what?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does.”

“It honestly doesn’t.”

“What do you own that’s worth that much…?” You glance through the window. His green Nova is straddling two spaces in the parking lot, illuminated by dim melancholy streetlights. If it wasn’t the car, what was it? What the hell was it?

Aegon holds his hands open, empty. “You wanted me to pay you back. Now you’re mad that I paid you back. I don’t know how to win with you, Appletini.”

The words themselves are irritated, he should sound irritated; but he just sounds sad. A heavy quilt of silence settles over the lobby. Your gaze is tangled up in his: blue, oceanic, mottled like a bruise. Jen watches from behind the front desk with huge, zooming eyes. She clears her throat to get your attention. Bear mace! she mouths, pointing at your purse.

You shake off your paralysis. “I’m sorry,” you tell Aegon. “Thanks for the money.”

He rubs the back of his neck anxiously. “Do you want to get a drink or something? Maybe talk…about…things…?”

“No. I’m covered in reindeer placenta.”

“Fine.” He blows by you, yanks open the front door, and is gone before you can take it back.

What’s there to talk about? you think, trying to convince yourself that you made the right decision. He’s still with Kimmie, I’m still with Trent, his time in Juneau is still ticking down towards zero. And yet, as his Nova swerves out of the parking lot, you feel an ache in your bones like a fracture.

“You okay?” Jen asks.

“Yeah. Can I get that $300?”

Confused but ever-compliant, Jen hands you the $300 in twenties.

“Do I have any more appointments this afternoon?”

“No, Ms. Flynn just called to reschedule Hyacinth’s yearly checkup.”

Oh yes, Hyacinth the semi-tamed opossum. Not your favorite client. “Perfect. Let’s close up a little early. I need to go home and scrub the blood out of my hair.”

In the midst of the steam and the pounding rainfall of the shower, you turn it over and over again in your mind: What did he pawn? What did he risk losing to pay me back? Reindeer blood, viscous and lifegiving, turns the soap bubbles dark pink as they are sucked down the drain. It’s not until you step out onto the bathmat and catch a glimpse of your reflection in the fogged mirror—of the foamy white flecks of soap still dappling your throat like pearls—that you remember the gold chain necklace Aegon wore to Thanksgiving dinner.

$300? you think doubtfully. A pawn shop will only loan someone a portion of the value of the item they hold as collateral, rarely more than half. Usually much less. Is that chain worth $600, $800, $1,000? Maybe. If it’s real gold. You don’t want to imagine how Aegon ended up with something like that. There’s no honorable answer. You throw on jeans and a chunky royal blue sweater and head out to your Jeep Cherokee.

There is only one pawn shop in Juneau, which makes things easy. You arrive ten minutes before closing time. Sure enough, store owner Mark Morehouse confirms your hypothesis: a peculiar white-haired out-of-towner showed up earlier today, offered a gold chain, received cash in return.

“But I didn’t give him $300,” Mark says. “I gave him $500.”

“$500?!” you exclaim. “You really think that necklace is worth a grand?”

“A couple grand, more likely. Haven’t gotten a proper appraisal yet.”

“Well…” You count every last cent of cash you have in your purse. The cannister of bear mace clatters as you dig through gum wrappers, pens, tissues, strawberry Creme Savers, crinkled receipts. “I can give you $410 now and a solemn vow to settle the balance later. Plus interest, of course.”

Indisputably, it is a breach of pawn shop ethics to let one customer walk out with another’s collateral before they’ve had adequate opportunity to pay back the loan. But Mark grew up with your parents, just like Dale did, and Heather’s parents, and Joyce’s parents, and half of your vet clinic clients, on and on until Juneau feels less like a city than an inescapably embroiled web. Everybody knows everybody…though not well enough to recognize the face of a killer. You explain to Mark that the white-haired out-of-towner is in fact a friend, and one that you are trying to do a favor for. He gives you the gold chain necklace in exchange for your cash and your word. It’s worth a lot around here. Vince and Debbie are good, honest people; surely their daughter must be too.

“Be careful,” Mark calls after you as you depart. “Until they catch that murderer, you shouldn’t be running around town alone after dark. And you definitely shouldn’t be getting too cozy with strangers.”

“Aegon’s not a stranger,” you say, smiling a little as you linger in the doorway. “Not anymore.”

Once you’re back in your Jeep, you turn on the heat and the interior light and inspect the chain more closely. It definitely feels expensive: heavy, flawless, golden links that are smooth like butter when you thread them between your fingers. On the long rectangular clasp, you find this engraved in artful cursive letters:

Happy birthday, dearest Aegon!

You flip the clasp over. There are three more words on the back, accompanied by—however bizarrely—a tiny praying mantis.

Much love, Helaena

“Helaena?” you say to no one as your Jeep idles outside the pawn shop. “Who the fuck is Helaena?!”

You have no right to be jealous, and yet you can feel the dark green poison of it growing into you like ivy: needling through joints, cracking bones, drinking up rust-scarlet marrow. You hate how much you want him. You hate that so many people on this planet carry pieces of him that you will never know. You shift your Jeep into drive and glide through the night towards his apartment building.

You shouldn’t go up there, you tell yourself as you park under a streetlight. He might be busy. He might not be alone. He might be with Kimmie.

But maybe that’s what part of you is hoping for. Maybe you’re looking for a chance to interrupt them, to stop them, to work up the courage to tell Kimmie the truth. She would listen if you told her, you believe that wholeheartedly; Kimmie has never been malicious, only self-involved, only shallow in a way that can be frustrating but also somehow pure. You always know exactly what Kimmie’s intentions are. She is as clear as still water, as glass.

As it turns out, Aegon is alone in his apartment. When you turn the spare key he gave you in the lock and open the front door, you find him sprawled on the couch and three rum and Cokes deep. He’s watching reruns of the X-Files. He yelps in surprise, flails, rolls onto the floor with a loud thud.

“Hi,” you say. Sunfyre frolics over to greet you, barking gleefully. You stroke his silky amber fur and scratch his ears, admiring the neat faint line of the scar on his muzzle. It was excellent suturing, you have to admit to yourself. It was a job well done.

“Jesus Christ, I thought you might be…” Aegon shakes his head as he lurches to his feet. “Never mind.”

“Kimmie?”

“No. Kimmie wouldn’t break and enter. And she doesn’t have a key.”

You stare at each other across the sparce room, silent except for the X-Files, the clacking of Sunfyre’s nails on the hardwood floor, the swishing of his tail. Then you toss Aegon the necklace. He grabs it out of the air, the shock blatant on his face. “You lied again.”

“About what?” he says, puzzled.

“You are married.”

Aegon remembers the engraving and then chuckles in relief. “Helaena’s not my wife. She’s my sister.”

“Oh.” This is interesting. This is a rare divulgence; you don’t intend to waste it. “Older or younger?”

“Younger.”

“Is Helaena your only sibling?”

“Too many questions.” He holds up the necklace. “Why did you pay to get this back?”

“I decided I didn’t want your money. You don’t seem to have an abundance of it, and I wouldn’t want to deprive you and Sunfyre of anything. Food. Rent. Condoms. Rum and Cokes.”

“That’s very thoughtful. My nonexistent illegitimate children send their regards.” He considers you. “I can’t give you the rest of the $500 yet. I don’t have it on me anymore.”

“Forget about the money. You need it far more than I do.”

He seems to find this amusing, though you aren’t sure why. “That’s fair, I guess.”

“Why do you hate Microsoft so much?”

Aegon is taken aback; he wasn’t expecting that. He finds his footing. “With computers and the internet, there are no more secrets, no more mysteries. I think the world is a more interesting place when you still have room to wonder. You shouldn’t be able to get all the answers to life’s thorniest predicaments from a cold white screen. You should have to go out and find them yourself. You should have to pay sweat and blood for them.”

“How contrarian. Self-righteous, even.”

He smiles. “That’s the Aquarius in me.”

You smile back, unable to help it. “Are you coming tomorrow?” Tomorrow is Saturday, December 11th. Heather has planned a hiking excursion in the Tongass National Forest; it’s forecasted to be unseasonably warm, 40 degrees by noon, practically balmy by Alaskan standards. You’ll have a few hours of daylight to enjoy before sunset around 3 p.m. And since the Juneau Police Department is adamant that no one traverses the trails alone until the Ice Fisher is apprehended…a group outing is both a welcome excuse to socialize and the only sensible option.

“I don’t know.” Aegon is avoidant; he stuffs the chain necklace into his jeans pocket and reties his man bun. “Do you want me to go?”

“No.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“I mean, I don’t not want you to go, but I also don’t want you to go. I don’t care, that’s what I mean. I have no preference.”

“Okay…?”

“I want you to do whatever you want to do.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to intrude, so I don’t want to go if you don’t want me there.”

“I’m not saying I don’t want you to go hiking, I’m just saying I also don’t not want you to go hiking.”

He sighs dramatically. “You are being remarkably unhelpful.”

“I’m sure Kimmie would like you to attend,” you jibe.

He throws up his hands, exasperated. “She probably would!”

“She hasn’t mentioned it?”

“Kimmie and I don’t do much…um…talking.”

You frown sullenly at the scuffed, dusty floor. “Awesome.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure you and Trent have lots of profound conversations when you hang out,” Aegon snaps. “You talk about science and animals and Ricky Martin and travelling the world and he talks about…what? Commercial fishing? Godzilla?”

“Steak tacos, mostly.”

That’s supposed to be a joke, but no one laughs. You actually wince at it. Aegon swallows noisily. He starts to say something, stops, starts again, gives up. He comes to you and points to your left hand. “Do you mind?”

You offer it freely. He massages your hand until it is supple and relaxed, gently bends and flexes your fingers, and then runs his calloused fingerprints down the lines of your palm as he studies them. You feel it everywhere: a cool tingling that shoots up your forearm, a jolt down your spine, the quickening of your heartbeat, a fresh wave of longing that crashes into you like the ocean against rocks. Why do I still want this? Why can’t I, after everything that’s happened, just learn how to hate him?

Aegon smirks crookedly. “It says you want me to go hiking tomorrow.”

“Who am I to disagree with an illustrious Taco Bell medium?”

Aegon drops your hand. “Is Trent going?”

“Yeah, that’s the plan.”

He nods. “I’ll be there.”

“Okay. Fine.”

“Fine.”

You give Sunfyre a parting kiss on the top of his head and turn to go…but your eyes catch on the magnets that clutter Aegon’s refrigerator, the vestiges of cities and experiences and women that he’s collected like seashells from the types of beaches you’ve never been to.

San Diego, you think vaguely, wistfully, looking at the splashing dolphin magnet. That’s where he said his favorite beach is.

“…You alright?” Aegon asks tentatively, following your eyeline.

Not really. Not anymore. You leave without answering him.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Truth or dare?” Kimmie asks, grinning from across the flames.

You’re gathered around a crackling campfire, sitting on stumps and felled logs; Trent rolled over an impressively massive one for you and him to share. Aegon is next to Kimmie, Joyce is next to Rob, and Heather is once again lamenting her awkward singleness. There’s snow on the ground, though it’s squishy and melting under the short-lived midday sun. There are hotdogs and marshmallows being roasted on sticks; bags of hotdog buns, graham crackers, and Hershey’s chocolate are passed around in a never-ending rotation. As far as drinks, mostly everyone is sticking to Surge and Snapple. Trent has had a few Heinekens. Aegon is pouring spiced rum from a Captain Morgan bottle into his half-drank cans of Coke. Heather’s battery-powered yellow Sony boombox is playing a Go West cassette tape. Their biggest hit, King Of Wishful Thinking, thrums through the forest of towering pine trees. Sunfyre—wearing a jacket and dog boots so snow doesn’t get impacted between his footpads—romps blissfully around the woods, eating fallen bits of hotdogs and graham crackers whenever the opportunity presents itself.

“Seriously?” Heather says. “Are we twelve years old? We’re not playing truth or dare.”

“Come on, please?” Kimmie presses her palms together as if in prayer, like she’s the patron saint of indecent party games. “It’ll be fun. It’ll be so fun.”

“I’m game,” Trent says.

“Me too!” Rob adds, gnawing on his fourth hotdog.

Joyce bites into a s’more, gooey chocolate-stained marshmallow oozing out from between the graham crackers. “I decline to participate.”

“You can’t decline,” Kimmie pouts. She peers around for inspiration, then spots the creek babbling a few yards away. She announces triumphantly: “You can only surrender!”

Joyce blinks at her. “Explain.”

“If anyone refuses to play, they have to dunk their face in the water for five seconds.”

“But it’s freezing cold!”

“You are a menace to civilized society,” Heather tells Kimmie. “You should be on the FBI’s Most Wanted list. Right next to Osama bin Laden.”

“Who?” Trent asks.

“He’s behind bombings of U.S. embassies in East Africa,” you explain. “Killed hundreds of people.”

Trent smiles at you proudly, drapes a heavy arm across your shoulders, pulls you in close and kisses your temple. “You’re too fucking smart, you know that?” You giggle dutifully but lean away from him, mortified. Aegon mixes more rum into his Coke can. “She’s so fly. I’m always learning new stuff from her.”

“Oh yeah? Getting some quality anatomy lessons?” Rob teases.

Trent brays out laughter and flips his hair. “Man, I wish. No anatomy lessons yet. But, you know…Christmas is right around the corner…it’s a very romantic time of year…maybe I’ll find her wrapped in a bow under a Christmas tree.”

“Please shut up immediately,” Heather says, disgusted. “You’re my brother. I don’t want to know about your sex life. I barely want to know about your non-sex-related life.” Aegon casts her a rare glance of approval, of gratitude. You can relate; you’re feeling pretty grateful too.

“So we’re playing truth or dare?” Kimmie prompts.

“I’m willing if everyone else is,” you say. Kimmie, ecstatic, leaps out of her seat and sprints around the campfire to hug you before returning to her log.

Aegon slurps on his unorthodox rum and Coke. “Same.”

Joyce groans. “Fine, I guess I’ll play.”

“Okay,” Heather relents. “If it will make you happy, Kimmie, then I’ll mentally transport myself back to the dark days of middle school and play this asinine game with you.”

“Yay!” Kimmie cheers. “Okay, I’ll start.” Her mischievous gaze travels around the circle. You try to appear inconspicuous by focusing your attention on your s’more. “Rob, truth or dare?”

“Dare,” he says, sitting up straighter and grinning enthusiastically.

“Go lick a tree.”

You burst out laughing; this really is so middle school.

“A tree?” Rob says, already scoping out the selection.

“Yup. A tree. Any tree.”

Rob stands, plods through the snow to a monstrous pine tree, and takes a long, slow lick of the bark. Everyone applauds his commitment. He returns to sit beside Joyce, who gives him a smile so swift it’s almost imperceivable. Joyce likes to pretend she’s above silliness—and maybe she is most of the time—but she’s still human.

“So you choose the next victim,” Kimmie instructs Rob.

“Okay, let’s see…” He makes a great show of scrutinizing everyone else before coming back to Joyce. “Darling Joyce, truth or dare?”

“If you try to make me lick something, I’ll stab you with your own hotdog stick.”

Rob smiles placidly. “Does that mean you’re choosing dare?”

“Yeah, I’ll choose dare. Only because Heather thinks I wouldn’t.”

“I am shocked,” Heather says, deadpan. “My heart just stopped. Someone resuscitate me.”

Rob thinks, tapping his bearded chin. “Hmm. Okay, Joyce, I dare you to stand on this log and serenade us with the entire Friends theme song.”

“No,” Joyce gasps, horrified.

“She can’t,” Heather says. “She’s allergic to fun and spontaneity.”

“I’ll do it,” Joyce huffs. She balances on top of the log and sings—even managing a few reluctant dance moves—while the rest of you clap at the appropriate moments: “So no one told you life was going to be this way…your job’s a joke, you’re broke, you’re love life’s DOA…”

“Who do you choose, Joyce?” Kimmie asks when the song has ended.

“Heather, obviously.” She is delighted, anticipating revenge. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Heather says primly, winking as she sips her can of Surge.

“You bitch! Who’s allergic to fun now?!”

“So ask me a fun question.”

Joyce sighs in defeat. “What are the five best books you’ve ever read?”

“You’re pathetic.”

“I need new reading material…!”

Next, Heather dares Kimmie to get a Sharpie tattoo drawn on her face—producing a black marker from her hiking backpack—though she gives Kimmie the generous courtesy of choosing the artist herself. Kimmie asks Aegon to do it. He sketches a cartoonish little dragon on her right cheek. He’s wearing all black again: black parka, black turtleneck, black jeans, black combat boots. You pet Sunfyre while Aegon draws on Kimmie’s cheek with his right hand, holding her face still with his left. You hate seeing him touch her. The blood burns in your own face, in your throat, in your lungs, all over.

“It’s getting warm by the fire,” you say casually, and start taking off your parka; you still have a turquoise sweater and white thermal T-shirt on underneath.

“Here, let me help you…” Trent reaches over and tugs at your parka, his large hands forceful and intrusive somehow.

“I got it.”

“Just let me—”

“Trent, I got it!” you insist. He lifts his hands away in capitulation. Aegon has stopped drawing Kimmie’s dragon and is watching Trent, who fortunately doesn’t seem very offended. You finish taking off your parka and fold it up neatly, setting it beside you on the log. Sunfyre whimpers until you resume petting him. There is an uncomfortable lull; Joyce assembles another s’more, Heather pretends to inspect her chipping nail polish, the hotdog Rob is roasting catches on fire and he flings it into a snowbank. Aegon looks back to Kimmie and finishes her dragon, tucking the Sharpie absentmindedly into his jeans pocket once he’s done.

“Trent,” Kimmie says. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare, totally!”

“Hmm…” She wordlessly deliberates. “Oh, I know! I dare you to make out with the most beautiful girl here.” She beams, sweetly, innocuously. She thinks she’s giving you a compliment. Aegon’s jaw falls open and he glares at her, furious. Before Kimmie can notice, he clears his face and takes a swig of rum straight from the bottle.

Trent chuckles. “Easiest dare I’ve ever agreed to.” And then he turns towards you.

“Wait, right now?” you say nervously. “In front of everybody?”

“Or Trent can always dunk his face in the creek,” Heather suggests. Joyce nods along.

“Not necessary at all,” Trent replies cheerfully. “Right, babe?”

What can you say?

No, you think abruptly, jarringly. I don’t want him to touch me. I could say no.

But there’s something that stops you from refusing…or, more accurately, several things. Firstly, you can’t really refuse without making it evident to everyone that you are less than smitten with Trent. Secondly, if you’re going to be forced to watch Aegon have his hands all over Kimmie, the least you can do in return is stop pushing Trent’s away. And lastly…

I don’t want to make Trent angry. I don’t know what he’s capable of when he’s angry.

You can’t bring yourself to believe that Trent is a serial killer, his size 12 L.L.Bean boots notwithstanding; in your estimation, he lacks the brutality, the cunningness, the strategic thinking. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t capable of hurting someone. That doesn’t mean you have no reasons to fear him.

“Okay,” you tell Trent, conjuring up a timid smile. “But, like, thirty seconds tops. PG-13, not R.”

“You got it.” He flips his hair off his forehead, grips your face rather roughly, and kisses you. His lips are soft and warm, but ravenously hungry; his tongue pushes into your mouth and explores you like a conqueror. He doesn’t try to feel you up—thank God—but one hand drops down to slink around your waist. You try to act like you’re enjoying this; but when Trent finally pulls away, your expression is palpably ashamed. You chug half a can of Surge to wash him out of you.

“Aww, no, she’s embarrassed!” Kimmie cries. She rushes over and squeezes in beside you on the edge of the log, constricting you in a familiar and theatrical embrace, stroking your hair. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You can’t help but feel better. Kimmie has no boundaries, that’s true, but it’s not universally a bad thing. Aegon takes another swallow of his rum. He looks shellshocked; he looks despondent.

“My turn to pick someone now, right?” Trent says.

“Right,” Kimmie concurs.

“Babe,” he says to you. “Truth or dare?”

“Oh, definitely truth.” Everyone laughs…well, everyone except Aegon. He’s watching you now, chewing the corner of his bottom lip. His eyes are intense, dark, seeking. His wayward lock of white-blond hair rests on his cheek.

Trent asks you: “What is your ultimate fantasy?”

“Stop!” Heather begs her brother. “Stop being so…so…so slutty!”

“He didn’t say sexual fantasy,” Joyce counters. “She could tell us that her ultimate fantasy is moving to Los Angeles and becoming a vet to celebrities. She could work on those tiny purse dogs all day. Maybe she could even meet Ricky Martin.”

“Yeah,” Trent agrees, though perhaps halfheartedly. “Whatever kind of fantasy.”

You ponder this for a while before you speak. “I want to lie on the beach in San Diego, California. I want to hear the waves crashing and feel the sun beating down on me. And I want to throw fish to the sea lions and watch them waddle around, barking like dogs. That’s my fantasy. Oh, and I want to eat like a million tacos. Not Taco Bell tacos, real tacos.”

“Okay, but Ricky Martin would be there too, right?” Rob jokes, eliciting laughter from everyone except Aegon.

“Naked,” Joyce adds.

“Sure.” You smile a little pensively, a little mournfully. “Why not? Ricky Martin can be there too. It’s just a fantasy, after all. It’s not real.”

“Why haven’t you gone there yet, babe?” Trent asks sympathetically, scoring himself several good boyfriend points.

“Well, you know…there’s the vet clinic…and my family…the timing has just never been right.”

“You’ll go to San Diego one day,” Heather promises.

Kimmie nuzzles against you, resting her head on your shoulder. “She hasn’t gone yet because she’s a mature, responsible person, truly the best of us.”

“Because she’s a coward,” Aegon mutters.

Everyone goes quiet and stares at him. Aegon looks stunned, like he hadn’t intended to say that out loud. Sunfyre snorts and canters off into the woods.

“What?” you say.

Aegon shakes his head. “Nothing.”

“No, really. What did you just say?”

Rob tries to broker a peace. “It doesn’t matter—”

“It does matter.” Your voice is dark like night, cutting like glass. “You think it’s cowardly to have responsibilities? You think it’s cowardly to care about other people?”

Aegon gulps down more rum and glares at you through the campfire flames. “I think it’s cowardly to blame other people for your lack of a spine, yeah.”

“Aegon!” Kimmie scolds harshly, incredulously.

Trent begins: “Hey, man, not cool—”

“You know what’s really cowardly?” you level at Aegon like the barrel of a gun. “Spending your entire life running away from things—things that are worthwhile, things that you want, things that you are desperate for—because you’re too fucking weak to cope with the possibility of losing them.”

And then you stand, tearing away from Kimmie and Trent when they try to stop you. You flee into the trees, scalding tears brimming in your eyes. Branches rip at you; one carves a shallow gash across your cheek just below your left eye. Snow collapses under your boots.

Faintly, you can hear Aegon saying to the others: “I’ll go, I’ll go, I’ll apologize.” And a few moments later, rapidly approaching: “Hey! Stop! Hey!”

“Leave me alone!” you scream over your shoulder. You run until you trip over a gnarled tree root and fall to the ground, sobbing, wet, cold, miserable.

Aegon catches up to you and bends over, gasping for air, his hands on his knees. Even from several feet away, you can smell the rum sweating out of him. “Are you psychotic?! You can’t just run off into the woods by yourself, there’s a killer on the loose!”

“Like you’d care if I got murdered!” you shout up at him. “It’d be the best day of your life, then you’d be free to fuck whoever you want and drink yourself to death without the inconvenience of having to be around me, boring, uptight, accountable, revoltingly cowardly me—!”

“God, you’re so fucking stupid—”

“Why are you even still here?! You could be jetting off to some other city, some other new adventure, you could leave anytime you wanted, so why if you hate me so much are you still here?!”

“Because I’m stuck here now!” he roars.

That doesn’t make any sense. That’s incompatible with absolutely everything about him. “Why?!”

He stands up straight and rubs his face with both hands. He’s calmer now; he’s trying to compose himself. His eyes are glistening, you realize. His cheeks are flushed. “Because of the Ice Fisher.”

“What are you talking about?”

He struggles to get it out. “I can’t leave…you…here…alone…until they catch whoever the killer is.”

You gaze up at him, not understanding. “Why do you care about what happens to me?”

“I think the answer to that is really obvious.”

“No, it’s not, because you don’t like me, you don’t respect me, you don’t want me—”

“I want you all the time,” Aegon says, and the feverish words in your throat vanish. “All the time. I pass out at night wanting you, I wake up hungover wanting you, I want you all the fucking time. I want you in the vet clinic, I want you in the bar, I want you in my apartment, I want you in the middle of the woods, I never for a single solitary goddamn second stop wanting you, and it’s hell, in case you’re wondering. But that’s not good enough for you. So now I’m the idiot. I’m never the one who gets left. I’m the one who leaves people, I’m the one who packs my bags in the middle of the night and catches a flight to the next city, I’m the one who runs away. It’s always me. But I showed you who I am and you couldn’t leave fast enough.”

Oh god, you realize. I can’t stop forgiving him. I can’t stop wanting him. I love him, I love him, I love him. “I wasn’t leaving you, Aegon. I was trying to fix you.”

“I’m not fixable!”

“But why?”

“I’m just not, I never have been, I’m never going to be. I can’t magically transform myself into the person you wish I was. Believe me, I would if I could, but I can’t. And I can’t stay here forever. I’m on a clock, I’m always on a goddamn clock. I’m just hoping they arrest the Ice Fisher before…before…” He trails off, staring vacantly into the wilderness.

“Before what?”

He says nothing. You haul yourself out of the snow and go to him. “Your face…” he whispers, touching the cut just beneath your eye.

“Before what, Aegon?” you ask, you plead. “I want to help you. I want to understand. What are you so afraid of? What is it? What the hell is it?”

He takes several steps away from you, looks down at his boots, stays that way for what feels like forever. “Okay,” he begins at last, his voice shaking.

Oh my god, he’s finally going to tell me. He really is. You brace yourself for the inevitable: he’s married, he’s a father, he’s being pursued by drug lords he’s indebted to, he’s a criminal, he’s a con artist, he’s a killer.

“My dad was the first investor in Microsoft.”

Your mind goes blank like a chalkboard wiped clean. “Microsoft…the…the company that’s worth $600 billion…?”

“Yeah. That one.” He gestures randomly. “My dad is a venture capitalist. So he owns equity stakes in a bunch of different businesses. When Bill Gates was just starting out, he and his partners needed money, so my dad invested and they gave him equity in return. A healthy slice of equity, because they weren’t worth anything yet. And so…as the company grew…”

“Wait, you’re a…?” You gawk at him. “You’re a…billionaire?!”

“Not me,” Aegon says. “Them! They’re the billionaires. Not me. I’m just a guy.”

“You are them, Aegon, because you’re the same people, you’re…you’re…”

“No, I’m not, because I left. I left when I was nineteen and I’ve never been back since. That was six years ago. Almost exactly six years ago.”

“You grew up in Miami,” you say, your voice sounding very far away.

“Yeah. Gorgeous mansion on the ocean, boarding schools, yachts, golfing, parties with lobster and prime rib, all of it.”

“And you left…because…?”

“Because I was the oldest son and the heir to the empire, and I didn’t want any of it. I didn’t want to live in a suit, I didn’t want to stare at a screen all day, I didn’t want to spend my life scheming, counting, networking, grasping. And I was no good at anything. I was an abject failure by any possible metric, and everyone knew it. All I ever wanted to do was work outside where I could see the sun and the stars, drink, get high, play guitar and sing punk rock songs. All I wanted to do was live. So I left. There’s more to it than that—a lot more to it—but now you know where I came from. I’ve never told anybody that. Not once in the last six years.”

“You don’t talk to anyone from Miami? Ever? No letters, postcards, phone calls, nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“You don’t ever miss your family?”

He smiles grimly. “I’m glad that you’ve lived the kind of life that makes it next to impossible for you to comprehend why someone would want to run away from home and never look back. Really, I’m genuinely happy for you. But that’s just not my reality.”

The revelation hits you like a fist. “They’re still searching for you.”

Aegon nods. “One of them in particular.”

“Helaena?”

“No.”

“Then who?”

“I don’t want to tell you that.” He glances at your cut again and shudders. “I don’t know how he’s finding me. But he is. I’ve seen him twice.”

“Twice? Since you left home…?”

“He didn’t see me, but I saw him. From a distance both times. Once in Phoenix, once in San Francisco. Both around the six month mark. If I stay too long in one place, he finds me. And if he ever gets ahold of me, I won’t be able to stop him from dragging me back home. Nothing on earth can stop him when he wants something.”

“How can you be so sure it was him?” you say. “If it was from far away, maybe you were just imagining it…maybe you saw someone who looked kind of like him, and because you’re so afraid of being found you thought it was him, but it wasn’t really—”

“He’s very distinct looking. Very, very distinct looking. There’s no mistaking him.” Aegon picks up a handful of clean snow, takes a small clump of it between his fingers, wipes the length of your cut with it gently, carefully. It soothes the stinging. It cools the roaring blood in your face. “Every year there are less and less people without internet. If someone Googles my last name, my family is the first result that pops up. Articles about my father’s success, my mother’s grace and beauty and philanthropy, the socialite daughter, the degenerate eldest son. One day there will be nowhere left to hide.”

“You never tried to change your name?”

“To legally change my name, I’d have to publish a public announcement so creditors—or anyone else—can come forward and object to it if they have a reason. The media would pick it up. There would be headlines, news commentators, maybe even court hearings. My family would find out, and they would come get me.”

“They’re that determined? They’re that capable?”

“One of them, yes.”

“You can’t stay in Juneau,” you say, your voice splintering like thin ice.

“No, I can’t. Not forever. But hopefully long enough make sure you’ll be safe once I’m gone.”

You look at him. “Do you have any idea who the Ice Fisher could be?”

He shrugs, like if he ignores the possibility he can make it disappear. “Not really. I guess…I guess have one person I’m concerned about. I don’t really think it’s him, I can’t bring myself to believe that, I never thought he was capable of violence before, but now…now…something about him worries me. It keeps me awake at night.” He pauses. “It scares the hell out of me, because he’s so close to you.”

Trent. He means Trent. And I can’t disagree. “I don’t know what to do about him.”

“Don’t make him angry,” Aegon says urgently. “I’m not saying you have to do anything with him that you don’t want to, no, he doesn’t own you, he shouldn’t bully you into anything. I’m just saying to avoid confrontations. And try not to be alone with him.”

“I understand. I won’t make him angry.”

Aegon takes the Sharpie out of his pocket. “Here. Give me your arm.” You do so without any hesitation. He considers your left palm, then decides against it: too noticeable, too easy to get smudged. He pushes your sleeve up to your elbow and writes a phone number across the soft skin of your forearm in black ink. “This is for if he ever tries to do anything that you’re not cool with. Or if you just need to talk. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agree quietly.

He puts the cap on the Sharpie and tucks it away again. Out of the trees appears Sunfyre, panting and jubilant to see you both. He accepts pats and scratches and then heads back towards the campfire. You and Aegon follow him, walking close enough to touch each other but not daring to.

“You’re alive!” Heather rejoices when she sees you. And then she glowers at Aegon. “Get over here. I’m going to gut you like a deer, Greek boy.”

“It’s fine,” you say. “We talked, we’re friends again, everything’s good.”

“Really?” Kimmie asks hopefully.

“Yup,” Aegon says, standing beside her but making no eye contact.

“You better be.” Trent grins, hugs you—lifting you clear off the ground—and then notices where the branch gashed your cheek. “What happened to your face, babe?”

“Just a tree. I ran into it, it’s my fault. I can clean it up when I get home.”

“That’s the great thing about being a doctor,” Trent says brightly. “Even an animal doctor. You can fix almost anything yourself.”

You glance at Aegon, heavy with a steely grey fog like grief. “Yes. Almost anything.”

You ride home the same way you arrived to the hiking expedition, with Trent and Heather; Aegon and Sunfyre leave in Kimmie’s pink Land Cruiser. When you get inside, the first thing you do is write down Aegon’s phone number on a Post-it note and stick it inside the top drawer of your nightstand. You shower, tend to your shallow cut—“not too bad, ladybug,” your dad offers supportively, “not too bad at all”—and help your mom make dinner: reindeer sausage from Mr. Campbell’s farm, mashed potatoes, glazed carrots, broccolini, homemade chocolate bread for dessert. Not quite prime rib and lobster, you think dazedly, your mind swimming.

Hours later, as you lay in bed gazing up at your ceiling, you can’t stop hearing what Aegon said, his voice deep and raw and achingly beautiful. I want you all the time. I never for a single solitary goddamn second stop wanting you.

You get out the Post-it note, pick up the phone on top of your nightstand, dial the number for Aegon’s shabby little apartment on the other side of Juneau. He answers almost immediately. He’s very tipsy, but alert.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” you say softly, and only silence follows. You wring the phone’s blue spiral cord between restless fingers. “It’s—”

“I know who it is.” Now you can hear that he’s smiling. “What can I do for you, Appletini?”

“Tell me about San Diego.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything,” you say. And then again: “Everything.”

And that’s exactly what he does: he paints a vision with his words, he tells you about driving through the Mars-red canyons and peaks of the Laguna Mountains until you crest the top and see the Pacific Ocean, endless and sapphire blue and glittering under sunlight that bakes the shadows from your bones. He tells you about the surfers, the dolphins, the cliffsides, the sea lions, the sailboats, the hot air balloons and kites and parasailers, the historic district of the city that still remembers its origins as a Spanish fort and mission. You can almost see it; you can almost reach out and touch it.

You listen to Aegon until you fall asleep, the phone tumbling out of your grasp and onto the pillow beside you; and even then, your dreams are filled with him.

#aegon x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #aegon ii #aegon x y/n #aegon x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon ii x reader #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen ii x reader #aegon targaryen ii

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samantha-and-her-chaotic-desires · 10 months

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The hazbin hatedom is getting out of hand for me it's really cringe. Your thoughts

I have mixed opinions on this. So beforehand, I am going to say that this is a longer post from me, and I appreciate the anonymous message! <3 I will be talking about this specific question, as well as my interpretation, thoughts, and overall feelings on this matter. Please feel free to reblog, like, and comment your opinions and keep it civil. I want to have a friendly discussion, no matter how brash I seem: this is brutal honesty coming from my heart.

For those who have ZERO clue: Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss are dark "comedy" shows for an adult audience, created by Vivienne "Vivziepop" Medrano, originally airing on YouTube. Helluva Boss is currently in its second season, while we have yet to find out anything else on Hazbin Hotel, as it is now a part of A24 and BentoBox. They center on the same setting, Hell, but have two different plot lines.

Hazbin Hotel is redemption focused, led by Princess Charlie Morningstar, the daughter of Lucifer. She wants to help the sinners in Hell become good and go up to heaven to avoid the yearly Exterminartion, aka a Purge. Helluva Boss, however, is about a murdering business called I.M.P., with Blitz, Millie, Moxxie, and Loona, going up to Earth with a grimoire that is provided by Stolas of the Ars Goetia, a prince. So here we go, into the Depths and reasoning of this post: the Hatedom. So lo and behold, my answer below.

On one hand, yes. The Hazbin Hatedom is a bit over the top. Yes, people are assholes. However, the Vivziepop stans who don't want to admit their precious senpai Vivziepop has done some pretty fucked up shit in the past. The hate can be unnecessary, but you know what else can be unnecessary? The toxic stans. I follow #vivziepop for certain analysis portrayals and criticism, or just general news. Sometimes people are tiresome. This is no exception.

I am falling out of the fandom because it can be toxic. I enjoy most of the characters, but other than that? Helluva Boss's current writing is NOT good. At all. The latest episode irked me to no end. I'm unimpressed with Seeing Stars. I am not very happy that they are forcing Stolitz down our throats as an "uwu pwease wove us" type of bullshit ship. I would much rather prefer Blitz and Stolas to be friends. I wished Stolas had his pilot personality and not the "uwu im a gay, tragic prince with a shitty wife, feel bad for me" bird we know in the series.

Moxxie in the latest episode is bitchy. He got on my nerves and was pissed at Millie being happy. This girl deserves more screentime (and I'm glad she got some of it) but seriously...Millie is always there for Moxxie, and Moxxie needs to reciprocate.

They made Stella seem stupid, when in reality, and if written properly, she can be a cunning and calculating villain with her brother. We've yet to see how Octavia and Stella interact, but I'm unsure.

I have definitely tried to keep my mouth shut as much as I could on this matter, because when I finally openly admit how I feel, it's not a pretty thing, especially with something that I'm so passionate about. Animation takes time, writing takes time, scripting, acting, everything takes so much time, and this is wasted potential. We can have so much better than just a fan-ficcy type rom-com, dark humor, sexual humor schtick. It's getting annoying, and I fear the worst when it comes to Hazbin Hotel.

Criticism is welcome here! Let me know what I left out. I'm willing to hear other opinions, so long as they're nice. If anons start flooding my inbox and getting mad, anons are off. Anon is a privilege, not a right.

#y'all this is the first time i really sat down to contemplate this #vivziepop #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #helluva boss critical #hazbin hotel critical #vivziepop critical #critisism #original post

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spitdrunken · 3 months

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I haven't seen him on your blog yet, but, do you have any thoughts on Alastor?

My thoughts are that i do genuinely like him BUUUUT I'm probably never really gonna write 'general nsfw/dating hcs' like I do about other characters just because I enjoy the aroace vibe of him too much HAHA Honestly, not 100% saying I might not in the future but just putting that out there!

I have some thoughts though! I have a couple of little works for him in the drafts, I've just been busy lately to really put the time and effort in to really nail his character...

notes: cannibalism mentions, heavy dubcon implied

One of them where you help with a yearly occurence that has to do with his deer nature (and no, it's not a rut, it's not anything sexual, haha), and it gets a bit... gross. But also kinda sweet? I'm working on it, lol.

Other one is a thought wherein Rosie and Reader are dating, and Alastor just hangs around you two together... A lot. I don't know, Rosie and him are def just friends, but I like the idea of this guy being in like. A QPR with Reader with a lot of specific unwritten rules, and he doesn't even know what a QPR is lmaoooo. Like no one knows what's going on between you two- Least of all you, haha.

Last one,, is more of a general cannibalism fic (entirely non-sexual within the story,, it's just straight up cannibalism. but it's sexual to ME) which involves Cannibal Town Mob characters, Rosie, and Alastor. Essentially, I have been thinking a lot about the idea of demons being able to make money in hell by willingly selling parts of their body to Rosie and the others! ...It all regrows eventually, and in Hell, there are enough desperate souls.

One nsfw idea I do kinda like is, if Alastor were to have like a rut/heat thing like i've seen some people say on here, it would be the worst time of self-loathing for him HAHA basically, him just being purely driven by instinct and hating absolutely every second of it, if that makes sense. but he's still doing it.

So, those are some of the thoughts I'm working on about him! But I feel like I would struggle a bit taking more general requests for him because my thoughts for him are so specific i guess....... ace2ace connection between us right there LMAO but pls do feel free to send in asks ^^!!!!

#alastor x reader #cha.alastor #nw #cw.cannibalism #cw.dubcon

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teeth-cable · 11 months

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Worldbuilding Questions: The Sinners not being treated like trash in Hell.

1. They are responsible for the yearly cleanse which sometimes results in angels leaving behind their weapons which as proven by Striker isn't just a problem for sinners but the nobles as well.

2. Lucifer rebelled because he refused to kneel before humans and sure you can bring up Lilith but i honestly don't know which lore about her Vivziepop is going with because there's a ton of different versions with the main consistent thing being she's Adam's first wife who believed in equal rights. Like she defied god and his plans so I'm leaning towards Lucifer seeing her as an exception. Also its weird Lilith is drawn as white when she should be middle eastern (because that's where a lot of the bible takes place) or african (humans came from africa according to palentology).

3. Sinners cause chaos in their wake in just pentagram city alone we have territorial violence every saturday which would probably make Hellborn who travel to pride have a miserable experience.

4. Also why does Hell have its technology line up perfectly with Earth? Like since it takes several decades on average for people to die on average wouldn't that mean that tech geniuses who kickstarted a tech revolution wouldn't show up until much later to bring it to hell? And then you have to consider some of those geniuses might end up in Heaven instead. Plus they can't even leave hell like the Hellborns so they can't just swoop in and attempt to have any status via technological advancements even if they are a tech genius who died young because they lack something made within the last few years to reconfigure for hell. Like do you think a succubus is going to hand a sinner a phone she found so they can invent the internet or create cellphones. Also would hell even have the same materials to create the tech?

5. Wouldn't it be logistically seen as a bigger scandal if Stolas got with a sinner instead of an imp? Like Lucifer hates them, your existence as demons is designed to fuck them over, and those assholes could've gone to heaven.

Like I get Charlie and Vaggie were initially written as friends in the pilot but now with the currently known lore. Vaggie dating Charlie should effect Charlie's reputation significantly. Even if we go with sinners being middle class like in canon... Vaggie barely has powers/isn't an overlord, the question regarding royal heirs, and she is literally a being that Lucifer would think is below Charlie.

It just doesn't make sense for sinners to not be treated awful in Hell. The only reason why they're in Hell is because they were terrible in their human life and are supposed to be punished because of it so for them to get off scott-free and do whatever they want doesn't make sense. Also the additional problems the sinners brought in Viv's Hell. Sinners are overpopulating Hell and it will make the Hellborns hate them because now there is a competition for food and space and to make it worst because of the overpopulation, Heaven is now involved and have to do a yearly purging. So the sinners are draining resources from the local species and brought Heaven into Hell, Hellborns greatest enemies that the imps have to clean up after because the angels aren't cleaning their mess. How are sinners not get punish here?

Lilith, I don't think counts as a human anymore because she did betrayed Adam and God and turned into a succubus. So maybe Lucifer sees her as an equal because of their similar backstories and relationship with God. I get what you're saying with Lilith, it does makes sense for her to be middle eastern but I think it's a Jesus situation. Where they both came from Judaism and were very obvious not white in their original appearance but due to centuries of the church rewriting and whitewashing Judaism to fit their religion, the popular interpretation of Jesus became white. Heck, even now when it now public knowledge Jesus wasn't white and was Jewish, people still draw him the white version more. Still not an excuse but I can see why Viv made Lilith white when most modern interpretation of Lilith is a white lady.

If TERF wars were so common and violence to the point, they make it to the local news, you would think they would show that in Helluva Boss.

I guess you can make the excuse, imps and demons stole knowledge from humans to make their technology as advanced as their. Belphegor did trick humans into making machines with the promised it would make them rich or help humanity but when they’re done building, Belphegor stole their inventions. Again though it still weird Hell is technology advanced as humans when Hell has it's own culture and history different from Earth. Even if Hell and Earth do have similar cities and technology, there would still be major differences between the two worlds.

In another Hell show where the world building was planned and thought out well, yes, but in Helluva, Hell's ranks shows imps are below sinners.

The pilot was so unplanned. Even when people use the excuse, it's just an pilot and they will explain the lore in detail in the show, a pilot should still have a basis understanding of it's own lore and show it. Charlie and Vaggie's relationship, friends or girlfriends would still be conversational. Not only for the reasons you mentioned but also Charlie was in a relationship with Seviathan Von Eldritch, a Hellborn prince but broke it off. Knowing how Hellborns can be petty and mean, when they see Charlie hanging around with some random sinner after she broke up with a prince, rumors will surely be made. Charlie was secretly seeing Vaggie when she was dating Seviathan, Vaggie trick Charlie into leaving Seviathan, Vaggie trick Charlie into wanting to help the sinner, Vaggie is only friends with Charlie because she only wants to move up ranks. These rumors aren’t true but that doesn’t matter because the Hellborn will treat them as truth to feel powerful than Charile. If this did happened it actually provide a reason why the sinners in the pilot didn’t respect Charlie or her plan because the rumors tainted her reputation and sinners are suspicious about her motives to help them. It fleshes out the sinners and gives them more of a character than them being mean to Charlie because they’re asshole despite Charlie being the daughter of Lucifer and she can torture them for being disrespectful.

#➥Asks #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin critical #helluva critical #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critical #꧁rambles꧂

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hard--headed--woman · 2 months

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About women needing to create a separatist movement: I'm going to cut you right there and spare you a lot of time and frustration 😅 It's been many years since it has been a thing in China and South Korea and it's pretty much a yearly debate among radfems on tumblr. By "debate", I mean het and a lot of bi women calling lesbians incels who want them to be miserable (by prioritizing friendships!) because we're jealous harpies. It's the same every time, don't bother. I think lesbians should just focus on creating our movement because women who want to date men will never listen to us anyway.

Let my young and innocent heart have hope 🥲

More seriously, I have noticed that in my short time on tumblr (less than a year). "Radical" feminist on this website get really mad when we say that women should stop dating men, which is very dumb to me because it's literally the basis of radical feminism. How can you claim to be a radfem if you disagree with this and think it's stupid/too much (and if you date men at all)? It's frustrating and annoying because feminism NEEDS that. We need female separatism and we need more and more women who stop dating men and have sex with them.

But of course it's apparently too much and what's the best thing het many bi women love to do on here when they disagree with something ? Blame lesbians, obviously ! Suddenly we oppress them and hate them for being OSA and are as bad as incels, suddenly we think only lesbianism is a valid sexuality and think they don't deserve feminism... I have seen this debate once, when it was trending on radblr some months ago (i just arrived there back then) but I still hope that most radfems aren't as lesbophobic and agree with the no dating men thing. Am I naive?

I know there are a lot of febfems out there which is already great. But I doubt a big separatist movement will happen anytime soon. I just think we do need it.

#asks #radblr #radical feminism #radfem safe

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riderofspades · 5 months

Text

Christmas JayTim not-drabble(?)

Holiday seasons, growing up, had meant pain to him. It meant an empty home, sometimes without heating, because his parents had forgotten to pay the heating bill while away again. It meant eating tuna straight from the can for the umpteenth time, or even moldy bread. (Sometimes, he had beans heated up in the microwave as a treat.) It meant going to sleep in the most luxurious bed money could buy, listening to the ticking of the clock outside the cavernous hall counting down to midnight, hoping he would find sleep before the fireworks went off and reminded him of what he never had (what he could never have). And above all, never ever going out on Christmas Day, because going out meant families, meant love and warmth and home.

(Meant a feast before his starving eyes, mocking with looking his fill but not being able to touch.)

Such were those times. Lonely. Sad. But simple.

Now he spends his Christmasses busy. There’s the yearly fundraiser, Bruce. You’re not coming, right? So I definitely have to go. Oh sorry, Dick, but I’m in space right now. Young Justice business. What do you mean it’s Christmas Eve?

Sorry, Alfred…

Sorry…

Then he hangs up his phone and his mask falls. And he goes back to the Nest, just in case Batman or Nightwing is checking, and does an umpteenth sweep of the place for trackers. And eats the umpteenth can of tuna, straight out of the can. Curls up on his couch under the muted light of his high-end flatscreen TV to sleep.

(Some things really never change.)

And this story would’ve ended here. Except.

Except.

At some point, Tim meets Jason. Really meets Jason. Not the Robin he had once worshipped from afar, not the vengeful Red Hood who had tried to kill him. Jason, who was the books he loved, and the weird dreams he had when crashing from a 30-hour work binge, and the bad breath he suffered from in the morning, and his impeccable angel’s food cake that he baked. And so, so much more.

Jason, who was alive and here and warm and had chose him, who was not far away across the world or a mere figment of his fanciful boyhood wishes. Who gave him awkward hugs and imperfectly made coffee, because he was still learning, because he had bothered to learn. Who was not as subtle as he’d thought in gauging what he assumed Tim would like as a present, and who hid his Christmas dinner plan ideas in his sock drawer, written out in pencil with poorly scratched-out lines over and over, all because he cared whether Tim was allergic to nuts or fucking hated cranberries.

He was right; Tim hated cranberries.

He was also wrong; Tim would eat them by the bucketload if it meant making Jason happy.

That was when he realised, this was it. This was who he was going to spend the rest of his life with.

(But ah, that is another story.)

#behold my trashy writing sprint results #jaytim #my rambles #fanon tim haters avert you eyes!#my fic writing

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topguncortez · 2 years

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Day 11: "911, what's your emergency?" ➣prompt: Self done first aid ➣character: Beau 'Cyclone' Simpson ➣warnings: injuries, mentions of domestic violence, blood, bruises, motorcycle crash, self inflicted injuries ➣word count: 1.6k

|| masterlist || whumptober || whumptober masterlist || library page ||

Beau Simpson was a man of many things; confidence, anger, jealousy. The biggest one had to be a man of pride. Beau was very prideful of himself and his accomplishments, which he had a right to be. It wasn’t everyday that the Department of Defense places trust in someone to run a whole training school for the best of the best. Most days he loved his job, it was less taxing than being a young airman and having to be ready to be deployed at the drop of a hat. He was able to finally settle down with the person he loved.

Beau had always thought he was going to marry his high school sweetheart and have a couple of kids. And he did get that. . . but it didn’t last long. He was heartbroken after the divorce. He had moved out of his wife’s house into a small three bed closer to base. And that’s when he met Y/N. The young nurse who lived next door to him. She was about 25, and had just gotten her first nursing job on base. Beau had met her when she was doing the yearly flu shot clinic. He had recognized her from the early morning runs that she went on. She would be just arriving home when he was heading out to work.

After that day, they began talking to each other, nothing past the friendly “hi, how are you” whenever they saw each other outside. Beau wanted to ask her out, but there was something in his mind that stopped him. Maybe it was the fact that she was nearly twenty years younger than him. He could sometimes hear the small parties she would have with her friends in her backyard, or when she would come home drunk from the bars, or see some man doing the walk of shame out her front door in the morning. Beau wanted things that he thought she probably wasn’t ready for.

Beau sighed as he parked his car in the driveway, and cut the ignition. It was a long day of dealing with Pete Mitchell’s antics. He knew the reputation that came with the pilot, and he hated it. Beau wasn’t one for reckless behavior, he had no time for it. He glanced over at the drive next to his, and noticed Y/N’s car was sitting in the driveway. He furrowed his eyebrows, usually it was her motorcycle that was there. He hated that thing. It made his stomach drop every time he watched her pull out on it. She also refused to wear a helmet, telling him once that it takes away from the cool factor.

Getting out of his car, he grabbed his duffle bag and headed for his front door. Beau had barely had the key in the door when he heard a weak voice call out his name. He turned around and dropped the bag in his hands, and ran down the steps to the injured girl in front of him.

“What the hell happened?” He said, looking her over. She had cuts, scrapes, and bruises all along her body.

“I took a tumble on the bike,” She smiled. Even while injured she still looked amazing, “This uh. . . won’t stop bleeding.” She lifted up her shirt to expose the bandage that was on her side that was soaked in blood.

“Oh my god.”

“I don’t have much more than paper towels and kleenex. Kinda bad for a nurse, I know,” Y/N laughed.

“Come inside, I have a first aid kit,” Beau said, and Y/N nodded. She had a slight limp in her walk. Beau kept his hand behind her, following her gait up to the door. She winced as she walked up the steps, and Beau pushed the door open, “Here, come to the kitchen.”

“Nice house,” She breathed out as she moved to the kitchen.

“Can you get up on the counter?” Beau asked her, setting down his duffle bag.

“I. . . fuck, no,” Y/N sighed after trying to jump up. Beau wordlessly walked over to her, and lifted her on the counter. She groaned slightly, and Beau turned on the overhead lights. She looked even worse in the light. He could see the dirt that was on her face and in her cuts. She had a large scrape that seemed to go from her head all the way down her body.

“Did you fall or get run off?”

“Fucking grass clippings on the street,” She cursed, “It’s like walking on ice. Lost control and skidded across the road.”

“You work at a hospital?”

“And?”

“Why didn’t you go?” Beau called out as he walked down the hall towards the bathroom to get the first aid kit. He was suddenly thankful that his ex-wife had told him to buy one.

“Too much paperwork. Believe me, I know,” Y/N rolled her eyes as Beau came back down the hallway. He set the first aid kit down next to her, and gently touched her face looking over the injuries. She winced and he clenched his jaw, “Nothing needs stitches. I just need band aids. Tape and kleenex isn’t cutting it anymore.”

“Did you even clean these?”

“Soap and water, best method,” She smiled at him. Beau rolled his eyes, and took a step back from her. She watched as he undid his khaki dress shirt, taking it off and standing in front of her in his slacks and undershirt. He grabbed the bottle of peroxide and a cotton ball.

“This is gonna hurt,” He announced and Y/N nodded. She gritted her teeth as he placed the cotton ball on her face. As Beau kept cleaning her up, he could see more than just the new scrapes and blood on her face. She had bruises in various stages of healing on her body. Some were on the opposite side of the current injuries. When he got done cleaning her face and arms, it was time to address the large injury on her stomach.

“I need to look at the wound on your stomach,” Beau said softly, and Y/N nodded. The shirt she was wearing wasn’t the same one from the accident, so it hurt less to take it off. Y/N winced as she pulled the shirt over her head, and Beau winced at the sight in front of him. Her skin looked like it had been burned by the road, and he could see small pieces of gravel still stuck to it.

“And you thought you had it easy,” Y/N chuckled.

Beau was concerned about the scrape, but he was also concerned about the large purple bruise on the other side of her body, “You got this from the accident too?” His fingers gently ghosted over the bruise. Y/N sucked in a harsh breath.

“Yeah,” She said shortly, “Please just. . . clean this one.” Beau nodded, knowing not to push her.

Beau frowned looking at her, “I need you to lay down.” Y/N nodded and Beau helped her lay down flat on the counter. He grabbed his khaki dress shirt, and folded it, giving her something to place her head on. It wasn’t much, but she smiled at him. She clenched her fist as he began to clean the scrape. It hurt worse than it did earlier, but she was thankful that Beau was willing to clean it. He grimaced as pulled away some of the kleenex she had used to try and stop the bleeding.

“Why didn’t you ask your boyfriend to do this?” Beau asked.

“Tyler?” She scoffed, “Yeah, I would’ve actually bled out on the floor of my house.”

“He wouldn’t do this?” Beau asked again, this time looking up at her face. Her eyes were set at the ceiling and she clenched her jaw. Beau had only seen this ‘Tyler’ once or twice, and both times he hated the sight. The first time, Y/N was kicking him out of her house, throwing his clothes at him as he yelled back at her. Beau wanted to say something, but refrained. The second time, he had just seen Tyler, walking angrily to his car, slamming the door shut and taking off down the road. Beau had his kids over that time, and really couldn’t say anything. The next day he saw Y/N wincing as she walked to the mailbox.

“No,” She said shortly, again, “He wouldn’t do this. . . “ She looked down at Beau, and their eyes met. Her words had a deeper meaning and Beau looked back at the bruise on her rib cage. It was as if she could read Beau’s mind, she pushed herself up from lying down, and reached for her shirt, “He’s a good person.”

“If he’s hitting you, he’s not a good person,” Beau said, grabbing her wrist gently. He looked down at it, and could see the faint outline of bruising.

“He gets mad sometimes.”

“This wasn’t an accident was it?” Y/N looked away from Beau, trying to hide the tears running down her cheeks. Beau didn’t say anything but pulled her into his arms in a hug. She clung to him and cried, pressing her face into his shoulder. He rubbed her back as she cried, and shushed her.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N said, pulling away from him, “I got blood on your shirt.”

“You know how many of these things I have?” Beau said, and Y/N chuckled. He wiped a tear from her cheek, “Let me finish patching this up, okay?” Y/N nodded and Beau guided her back down on the counter. He worked in silence as he cleaned the wound on the stomach, then applied a bandage. He helped her sit back up on the counter, and slipped her shirt back on over her head, “Are you hungry?”

“Kinda,” She said softly.

“Perfect, how does chicken carbonara sound?”

“Amazing.”

#top gun #top gun fan fic #top gun fan fiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fan fic #top gun maverick fan fiction #top gun maverick imagine #cyclone #cyclone fan fic #cyclone fan fiction #cyclone imagine #cyclone x reader #beau simpson #beau simpson x reader #beau simpson imagine #beau simpson fan fic #beau simpson fan fiction #beau cyclone simpson

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