#bambi says some bullshit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

majorblinks · 2 years

Text

for all the right reasons ((g)i-dle miyeon)

(smut, former teacher/student, public sex, facefucking, breeding kink, brief mention of blood, age gap [both consenting adults though obviously], fluff? lmfao there are feelings involved, 12k words)

Oh, it’s probably morally reprehensible, or whatever. She’s too young. She’s your student - or she was, once, and that should be enough for you to never, ever lay a hand on her, for you to file away those Bambi eyes and all that blonde hair and every soft, delicate curve of her body in a folder labeled one-way ticket to hell - that’s what it should be, but-

“You want me,” Miyeon says, the first day you two ever start. She’s smiling like the princess everyone thinks she is. “I think you’re gonna, like, die if you don’t touch me.”

She’s evil for saying it, but you’re evil, too, because she just happens to be right.

It’s a fluke, or something of the sort. Fate hates you, or some other bullshit. You’re in a bar on a weekday, and you’re not looking for company - just a little reprieve. You’re a high school language teacher and you write, sometimes. You’re here for some inspiration.

It doesn’t take long at all for you to find it: twenty minutes, thirty. You’re sitting at the bar, nursing a drink, and like something choreographed from a movie scene, she walks right in.

You don’t realize who she is at first, obviously. You hear the footfalls of heels, see the swing of long hair - you’re not about to dwell on it, but she sits down right next to you, and - yep, you’re dwelling. You hear the sweet voice as she talks to the bartender, see the dainty, graceful way she moves. She’ll be your muse for the night, you decide. You tilt your head, and you drink her in instead of your whiskey.

See, she’s perfect, from the jump; that’s where it all goes wrong. She’s the kind of girl people write songs about - sonnets, scriptures - and it’s all downhill from there.

Your gaze starts at her shoes first, and that’s the first mistake - they’re ridiculous, black and patterned with butterflies, a thick, platform heel; oh, it’s a fairy, a manic pixie dream girl come to life, you can work with that - and you find the second mistake as your eyes trail up: white thigh-high stockings, lace at the top, delicate and pretty against slender, creamy thighs - a fairy and a wet dream walking, that’s a killer combination. The third’s as you reach the blue dress, patterned with white flowers: the tiny waist to go with it, the halter neckline and the sharp collarbone, and all this silky, wavy ash-blonde hair, and then-

That fourth mistake, the nail in the coffin. You look at her face and your voice gets promptly stuck in your throat.

Cho Miyeon’s been watching you watch her, and she must see the exact moment you recognize who she is, what you’ve done, because when you meet her eyes, horrified, she’s smiling.

“Oh, hey,” she says, all too casual.

“Hi,” you say, and she crosses one leg over the other in those fucking thigh-highs. You don’t look. You can’t. “Miyeon. Hi.”

Miyeon tilts her head, and that curtain of blonde hair tumbles with her - she’s blonde now, and it’s such a good look on her, and you shouldn’t be noticing how good she looks - and says, “You remember me.”

She doesn’t seem like she’s really surprised. “Of course,” you say, and immediately realize how it sounds. “I mean - it wasn’t that long ago, was it? And you were always an excellent student. A - a real joy to have in class. You know.”

You’re just saying it because you don’t know what else to say - but it’s not like it’s untrue. Every memory you have of Cho Miyeon in your class is her sitting off to the right, by the window, dark-haired and with this air of benevolent elegance, something of teenage royalty. All her classmates called her a princess - you remember that. An inside joke; here's Princess Miyeon, acing the test again, asking all the right questions, helping everyone with their assignments. It was fitting enough for you to let it slide.

Now here she is, in front of you, suiting the title more than ever. She’s so beautiful - and that’s where you stop yourself, because - really, it hasn’t been that long since she was that brunette girl in your classroom. Less than five years, certainly. Or more? Fuck, time, teaching; it all gets away from you, and she’s wearing those stockings-

Miyeon’s smile slants, turns to something more mischievous.

“I know,” she says, and it sort of feels like she’s making fun of you. Well, she’d have the right. You sound like an idiot. Just because you were her language teacher doesn’t mean you’re anywhere near eloquent. “Thanks. For the record, you were always my favorite teacher, sir.”

There’s a spin she puts on the last word - or maybe you’re imagining it. She blinks at you, sweet-faced, all doe-eyed innocence. You’re imagining it. You have to be.

“Oh,” you say, and your voice comes out odd, thick. “Well, you don’t have to call me sir anymore. It’s not like I’m still your teacher.”

“Right,” says Miyeon, eyes twinkling. “But you still are a teacher, aren’t you?”

You stare, puzzled, still thrown by her very presence. “What?”

She asks again, patiently, and you give her the answer - yes - and then out of nowhere she’s managed to coax you deeper into conversation - do you like it, what’s the best part, what’s the worst, what else are you up to - and it’s a foregone conclusion. Someone gets her a drink and she gets chattier when she’s tipsy, still sweet and friendly and gorgeous, cheeks flushing in the dim light. She talks about herself, a little - she’s in college, she’s thinking of taking a trip, she’s single. You don’t remember how you landed on that last one but once it’s out there it’s basically all over, from there.

It definitely crosses a line, between former teacher and student. It’s somewhere in there. She nudges your arm when you make her laugh, then grips it loosely when you add something that makes her laugh harder. Her hair falls in her face and you don’t push it back for her but she looks at you like she knows you want to. You forget things like she’s so much younger than you and you aren’t allowed to stare at her thighs in her stockings and wonder if her underwear matches.

She’s a perfect conversationalist like she might’ve been trained in the art form; that’s how she gets you, reels you in. She’s clever without being cutting, witty without being condescending. Princess, indeed - it’s the kindness, it’s the bright eyes and the lace. No - not the lace. You should really stop thinking about the lace-

“Hey,” Miyeon murmurs. Neither of you are fully drunk, but you’re playing into it, pretending like that’s the reason you’re crossing boundaries. Miyeon’s playing with the cuff of your sleeve. One of her ridiculous boots is balanced on the rung of your stool, brushing your ankle. “We should go to the bathroom, or something.”

She flicks her eyes up at you through her lashes, and there’s a curl to her mouth.

“Miyeon,” you say, acting like the room didn’t just get ten degrees hotter, your pants ten times more uncomfortable.

“You were wrong, before.” She leans in close, and you inhale her perfume - something sugary, intoxicating. Her lips are wet from where she’s been biting them. These are things you aren’t supposed to notice, but rules and regulations are long gone by now. “It’s been forever since you were my teacher.”

“Watch it,” you warn her, kind of sharply.

It’s a mistake, being firm with her - her eyebrows lift with clear interest. “Yes, sir,” she says, somehow self-satisfied, and leans back; it’s not far enough, and you can still smell her, can still see the pleased glint hidden in her irises.

“Miyeon.” Your throat dries up.

“Oh, come on,” she says mildly, and brushes her hands over the lace decorating her thighs. “We’re both adults now. You’re not even that much older than me. Ten years at most. Less than that, probably.” You’re staring at her stockings again and she notices. “Plus,” she continues, humor lilting her tone, “You want me.”

You can’t take her eyes off her thighs, can’t stop thinking about shoving up her dress and bending her right over the bar, can’t stop fantasizing about the faces she’d make as you fuck her, the noises, the slick sounds of her pussy. You can’t admit it, because it’d be fucked up. You can’t deny it, because you want her too bad to lie. You don’t know how you got here so fast, and-

Miyeon’s grinning like she can read your mind, and she’s close again, fingers skimming down your shirt.

“I think you’re gonna, like, die if you don’t touch me,” she says, conversationally.

She’s got it right on the money. You can’t say anything, and all of a sudden both of your hands have found the curve of her waist, and she’s out of her seat, standing between your legs. She’s an angel you’d give your whole life to worship, her blonde hair, her eyes, her body - she’s a dream, and she’s leaning in further, breath hot as she whispers in your ear.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Miyeon says, lowly, and the airiness in her voice goes straight to your dick. “The feeling’s very mutual.” You can almost hear the smirk in her words, something fanged and predatory. You might have to rethink her divinity. “You wouldn’t fucking believe how wet I am right now.”

Oh, that’s it. There are no angels in the room, here - the devil’s clever like that, hiding itself in pretty blonde princesses. You’d die to worship her, die to sin for her: it’s all the same.

“I’m right with you,” Miyeon says, steeped in suggestion, in implication - on her inflection alone you can hear how she’d sound moaning around your cock. “I wanted you to fuck me the second I saw you. If you don’t get that dick inside of me right now I think I’m gonna drop dead.”

It’s a threat, it’s a promise, it’s theatrics - and how could anyone refuse her, when she puts it like that?

“Well,” you say, and you stand, struck and burning. You’re giving in. You’re a man, you’re weak; you’re no match for the devil in a dress like that. “I’d hate for you to die so young.”

You’re playing into it, and it’s still fucked up. You’re ten years older than her, or something like that. She’s calling you sir and you’re seconds away from calling her a nickname you shouldn’t. You wanna pull her onto your lap, onto your cock, tangle your hands in her hair, get her screaming and squirting, make her yours and yours alone-

“Well,” says Miyeon, mimicking you. “Then we agree.”

She’s all of your filthiest fantasies wrapped up in one. You’re hopeless. That’s sort of how the story starts.

Miyeon drags you to the bathroom, and puts her money where her mouth is. Well, so to speak.

Actually, you’re the one using your mouth - you lock yourselves in a stall and a beat later you’re sunk to your knees, pressing Miyeon against the door. Those fucking thigh-highs, driving you insane - you grip her thighs hard, force them apart, sink your teeth into the skin right above the lace. You’ll leave bruises and you already know it. You’ll leave more.

“Fuck,” Miyeon whines, and it’s like all her bravado has waned, all at once. You shove her dress up around her waist, and you had it dead-on: her panties are white and lacy like her thigh-highs, and you can’t believe she wears shit like this casually, can’t fathom how she walks out of the house without men throwing themselves at her feet. “Fuck, fuck-“

“Dirty mouth, huh?” you mutter, and sneak a glance up at her face. Oh, that’s a vision - the way all her delicate, angelic features contort as you drag a finger across the crotch of her panties, find her so wet she’s soaking through the fabric. She’s sensitive. It’s irresistible. “Shit,” you say, and you almost laugh, but you’re too worked up to get it out. “You weren’t lying - you’re soaked, baby.”

“Obviously,” bites out Miyeon, but the frustration both drains and builds to a point as you hook your fingers in the side of her panties and pull them down around her knees. “Oh - please, please, touch me-“

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip. “Look at that,” you say, and slip your thumb across her clit - she’s so turned on that just the graze sends her shaky, knees wobbling. One of your hands slides to her hip, steadying her. “You’ve got such a pretty pussy, Miyeon, you know that?”

It’s the praise, it’s like it kills her: Miyeon makes a high, keening noise that can’t classify as a response, and her cheeks are so red. You’ve barely touched her and she’s debauched, falling apart - “You’re so needy,” you add, enjoying the way she blushes hot. “You want me to take care of you, huh? That’s all you wanted?”

“Yes, please,” she pants, and when you slip a finger inside of her she moans so loud you’d be surprised if you two got out of this unnoticed. “Please, I just want more, I need more-“

“Be patient, princess,” you murmur, and she stills completely.

Fuck. Fuck. Well, it’s one hell of a slip-up.

Immediately you stop your finger inside of her, but then you feel her cunt clench, and she’s so, so wet - and just like that, you know.

“Miyeon,” you say, and your voice comes out gravelly.

“No,” she says, breathy, petulant. You can’t come back from this - that’s where you’re at. Your students used to call her this in your classroom. It’s sort of fucked up. It’s so fucking hot. She bucks her hips, and you’re finger-fucking her again, and she whimpers, ducking her head.

“Princess,” you start, and the cry she makes is like music, like gospel.

“Yes,” she chokes out, and you can’t believe this was the same girl leveling you with a stalemate back at the bar, challenging you toe-to-toe, weapons locked and loaded - can’t believe she’s now leaking all over your fingers, whining and desperate, begging please, please, please. Maybe you should’ve known. The brattiest girls love to get the most submissive. “Please - I need more, I need your cock - please, sir, I’ll be really good, my pussy will be so good for you, I swear-“

It’s the sir that gets you, but also everything before and after. You haven’t asked her to and she’s already begging; it’s adorable, it’s got you so hard your self-control’s rapidly slipping out of your hands.

“Alright, alright.” You’re unable to deny her anything when she talks like that, looks at you with those eyes. You rise, slowly - and then before you turn her around, grant her every wish, you take her gorgeous face in both hands and ask, “You’ll be good? You promise?”

You’re teasing her, but she’s so far gone she doesn’t even seem to notice. Miyeon nods rapidly, opens her mouth to say something - it’s not an invitation you’re about to pass up; you have to kiss her - so you do.

There’s something sweet about it, something filthy - you’ve never had a kiss so consuming and hot and wet, not during any fuck, any hook-up - and Miyeon makes small, whining sounds as you lick into her mouth, and you’ve got her cheeks in your hands, gripping firm as you kiss her. She’s tiny against you, her body all slender and slight and soft, and maybe that’s what makes it so hot; you have her like putty in your hands, like you could mold her, break her. Like you could do anything at all to her - to her mouth, her hair, her throat, her tits, her hips, thighs, cunt, ass - and she’d just let you. You kiss her and it’s like she lets you own her.

“Good girl,” you say into her mouth, and you know you do by the way she melts. “So good. I’m gonna fuck your little pussy now, okay? I’m gonna give you what you want, baby. You’ve been so patient, princess.” It’s a lie - you’ve never seen anyone so desperate - but when you flip her around and get to work on your zipper, you doubt she’ll bother with technicalities.

You slide your dick inside of her, and she collapses.

Her pussy is like heaven, and it’s the only word for it - it’s tight, but she’s so wet that you slide in like her cunt was made for you, made to form-fit your cock - maybe it was some twisted hand of fate after all, that led you here. Maybe you were always going to end up fucking her in a filthy club bathroom, calling her princess, wrapping your hand around her neck - maybe even since the first time she walked into your classroom, this was the inevitability, the only way it could ever go.

It’s a thought that’s pretty and fucked up in the same instant. Well, that’s Miyeon - well, you think, at least it fits.

She looks like an angel and she submits like one, too: knees buckling, leaning into you like she wants you to eat her alive, sink straight into her skin. You’ve got one hand on her hip and the other carding through her silky blonde hair; where she ends, where you begin - ah, it’s all the same. It’s corruption, it’s damnation - this girl never could’ve been the devil, not with this perfect pussy, not with her moans ringing out like music - and you get the feeling you’re ruining her, wrecking her. She turns her head halfway and there are tears in her gorgeous eyes, decorating her lashes. She’s never been quite so stunning.

“Fuck-“ All Miyeon’s words are slurring, loosening around the edges - you tug on her hair and if you weren’t holding her up, around your cock, around your fist, you know she’d fall right to the ground. “Thank you, sir - fuck - your cock feels so good, thank you, thank you - my pussy really needed it-“ She’s babbling, drooling, her tears smudging her eyeliner, her mascara. Her eyes squeeze shut and she clutches at the door, hands pressed flat, and lets you sheath your dick inside of her, again and again, rougher than you should be, so raw it should be criminal - her pussy is holy, or you’ve got Satan wrapped around your cock. Duality of woman; Miyeon’s got many talents and getting fucked into oblivion must top the list.

She cums; she’s too incoherent to warn you, but you feel it. You yank her hair and keep going. She’s fully crying now, pleas slipping from her mouth like wine, like water, like the way her cunt’s leaking all over you like a faucet, and you bury yourself inside of her, turn up the tap - she cums again, again-

“You like me ruining your pussy, huh?” you growl right at her ear, biting at her neck. It’s animalistic, it’s leaving your mark - well, one of them, at least. There’s her thighs, there’s how it’s not likely she’ll even be able to walk after this - okay, you’re leaving several. “Slutty little princess. You’d take whatever I’d give you - you’d let me drag you out there and fuck you in front of everybody, wouldn’t you?”

Miyeon loves the idea so much it’s like she’d give up religion entirely; you can tell by the way her back arches, by the way her whines get even less comprehensible, her perfect face crumpling in pleasure. It’s a plan for another day.

“You want everyone to know,” you hiss, “that you’re just a perfect little cocksleeve for me. I know, baby. I know.”

Oh, a face like that - you should be worshipping her, should be soft and gentle, wary of bruises and breaking - and you’re sure every other guy treats her like a goddess, something to revere and please.

For what it’s worth, you do, too - it’s just that you’re pleasing her by fucking her so hard she’s a sloppy, sobbing mess, pleading yes, sir - more, harder, fuck, fuck - you’re paying her reverence by leaning in close and saying in her ear-

“I’m gonna cum inside you, princess.” It’s not a question, not a request. Miyeon’s already nodding her head wildly, tears streaming down her cheeks - she’ll give you an answer anyway. Facets of royalty; she knows her manners, her lessons. “I’m gonna fill up that tight cunt, make that pussy cream - tell me how much you want it, baby.”

Your voice comes out through gritted teeth; the demands release harsher than the way you’re fucking her, and you think you might be tearing her pussy up, might be destroying it. She’s crying and blubbering and moaning, tripping over that tongue in her mouth trying to respond - your thumb’s fast on her clit and it’s double the stimulation, and it’s pushing her over the edge again - she puts so much effort into being good, and-

“I need it.” Miyeon reaches a hand behind herself, scrabbling blindly for your back, your ass, like she actually thinks you’ll pull out if she doesn’t beg hard enough. You’ve never seen someone so openly needy with such little coaxing - oh, your little princess. No one’s ever been able to satisfy her. “Sir, please - I need your cum inside me, I need to feel it, I need to be filled up, need you to breed me - I was really good, I deserve it-“

Her words break off, shatter on the floor; you think she cums again but you can’t be sure. It’s the words breed me that do it - that’s another thing to revisit, to play into and taunt her with, but she’s right, too: she’s been so, so good. You’ve never had a better pussy, never had something more perfect enveloping your cock - she’s sopping wet, so much you can hear it every time you thrust into her, can hear how her cunt gushes as you rail her. She’s engulfed every one of your senses - the sound of her, the smell of her, the feel of her, all silky skin and hair and a vice grip on your dick - it’s an overload, it’s overwhelming-

You bury yourself inside of her, right to the hilt, and you cum.

It’s a flash flood, wave after wave - you cum, and then a split second later it’s as if Miyeon turns to liquid herself, all her muscles giving out - and you grab her firmly around the waist, let her sink to the floor. It’s probably disgusting, it’s no place for an angel like her - but there’s nothing else to do. She spills herself into your lap, breathing hard into your shoulder, trembling like an earthquake’s just swept through her, wrecked all her bones and nerve endings like it’d decimate a city.

“Princess,” you whisper, and move her off of your cock, gently. You feel just as exhausted as she looks - you can't remember the last time you came that hard.

She doesn’t say anything, and just clutches at you tighter, pressing herself to your chest. One of your hands skates to her back, rubbing smooth circles.

“Miyeon,” you murmur, and she hides her face in your neck. “You okay?”

“Shh,” she says, lips against your skin. “Yes. Perfect. Full. I - give me - a minute.”

You get the message: she’s too well-fucked to move, to speak, to stand. “Alright, baby. Take your time.”

She hums right under your ear, tired and pleased and spent, and you cradle her slight frame in your arms, mindful of oversensitivity. You don’t know how many times she came - you’ve never seen a girl do that before, snap and start cumming over and over, clenching tight like she couldn’t stop. You’ll ask, you will. But, first-

You don’t know exactly how long it is, with Miyeon attached to you like this, the smell of sex and the sugary-sweetness of her blonde hair drenching the air: could’ve been weeks, you think, half-delirious. Eons. The world could’ve ended and you wouldn’t have changed a thing: the girl in your lap’s gotta be an angel, like you said. She has connections with a higher power. She’d handle it.

(That, or she’s got the devil on the other line, willing to bow down and serve her. Well, you’d understand. You doubt any deity could ever resist her.)

Eventually, Miyeon extricates herself from your body, slumping back against the door of the bathroom stall. She pulls her knees up, parts them - her eyes are shut, but you can see her defiled pussy, lips swollen, thick white cum drooling from her slit to the floor.

“Fuck,” you exhale without thinking, and see a small smile flicker at Miyeon’s mouth.

“Hey,” she says, and parts her legs wider. More of your semen leaks out of her. “Can you-“ Her words are still shaky, unsteady, shot through with fuck-drunk slurring. “Give me it. Your cum.”

You cock an eyebrow at her, even though her eyes are still firmly shut, sleepy. “I think I already did that, princess.”

She pouts at you, peeks open one brown Bambi eye. “No,” she says, inching towards a whine, and taps her full bottom lip. “I wanna taste it.”

Oh, she’s gonna be the death of you - but you kind of figured that out, already.

“Cumslut,” you say, and she smiles prettily, and you’d never be able to deny her a damn thing.

You take two fingers and ease them just inside her pink, puffy cunt, scooping out your own cum. Miyeon hisses air out through her teeth, on edge and tender, at every part of her, but scoots closer anyway; parts her lips, sticks her tongue out like some rabid animal, desperately, greedily in heat.

“Christ,” you mutter, and you take her chin in one hand, and feed her your cum with the other.

The moment your fingers slip past her mouth it’s like she’s been starving all day: her slick little tongue laves over your skin, curling hot and wet as she licks and sucks your cum off your fingers - and there’s no way she’s not tasting herself, it’s straight out of her pussy - and she’s blushing again, aware of her own wantonness but powerless to stop herself. Still, Miyeon makes no apologies, no take-backs for her desperation. She eats your cum off of you, swallows it down so easily.

Her white panties are tangled around her ankles, and you pull her feet into your lap, beginning to work the lacy underwear from around her ridiculous shoes. “Good?” you ask, amused, horny - but you’re past that. You’ll let her wind down.

“I am kind of a cumslut,” Miyeon says dreamily, head lolling. She rubs her thighs together, dress still shucked up around her hips. “I love your cum inside of me, sir. Feels - feels really good. All warm and-“ She’s speaking in half-sentences, still thoroughly fucked out. “Nice. And perfect.” She passes the heel of her hand over her clit and winces, raw, sore, satisfied. “Like… fuck.”

“Fuck indeed,” you say, pleased at your handiwork. You finally wrestle the panties from the platform heels of her boots, stuff them in your back pocket. At first you think she doesn’t notice, but she peers up at you with those dark, irresistible eyes, and you realize she’s allowing it.

Ah, well. You’re all playing games, in the end. “Hey,” you say, switching tone to soft, wiping at her face with your knuckle. Her makeup’s a lost cause, her eyeliner smeared and lipstick a wreck from where you kissed the life out of her, from where she slobbered around your fingers, tasting your cum - her hair’s long gone, too, a disaster thanks to your tugging and pulling. She looks exactly like everything you’ve been doing to her. “You’re okay, right?”

Miyeon blinks, reaching up almost absentmindedly to place her hand on your arm, thumbing your wrist. So - maybe it’s not quite the game you thought it was. “What do you mean?” she asks, clarity returning with each flick of her fluttering lashes.

“You…” You swipe underneath her eyes. “You were crying. Like, really, really crying.”

Miyeon tilts her head, like she’s confused - but then a smile plays at the corners of her mouth, finding ground and spreading.

“Oh,” she says, startled, entertained. “You’re worried about me.”

She’s teasing you. She’s so adorable that you kind of allow it. “Old habits,” you say. “I mean - you were my student. It was in the job description.”

It’s a filthy point, and her nose scrunches, delighted. Miyeon scoots closer to you until her knees bump yours, and you’re still stroking your fingers across her high cheekbones.

“Hey,” she says, more serious. “I’m fine, I’m amazing. It’s sweet of you to worry. It’s just, like-“ You slip a hand into her hair and it’s gentle this time, caring; her chin tips, eyes closing slowly, like she’s a puppy and you’re hitting the exact right spot. “It was so intense - in the best way, obviously - and it was like… you were fucking my pussy, but I was feeling it everywhere.” Her palm drifts to her heart, rounds to a fist. She’s still smiling, nearing rueful, like she’s well aware of her own dramatics. “It was like - I think I’m in love with your cock, or something.”

“You’re cute,” you say, helpless.

“I know,” she says, and she’s looking at you again with those wide, doe-like eyes. “I think my pussy was made for you.”

It’s a dirty sentiment - and it’s one you agree with wholeheartedly, thinking of the impossibly tight, wet heat of her cunt, drinking you in, the perfect fit, the way she stretched and swore and took it - but there’s something in the sweetness in her eyes that makes you think of nuance, of hidden implications. You’ll get there, one day. You’ve barely begun.

“So,” you say, snapping the tension that’s gotten too affectionate for the moment. “You want me to breed you, huh.”

Miyeon gapes at you, then flushes pink, shifts forward so she’s almost in your lap again. “Shut up,” she says, tracing your jaw with a manicured nail. “I don’t - I don’t even know where that came from. I’m on birth control. And I’d fucking kill you if you actually got me pregnant. I just - I think the idea is hot, that’s all.”

“Alright.” You lift her hips, smoothing down her dress and placing her in your lap all in one motion. You’ve zipped up your pants, tucked away your cock - it’s like pillowtalk but you know you’ll have to wrap it up. “Just trying to see where I’m at, with you.” You settle a hand around her tiny waist, skimming her ribs. “You like being called princess, you like calling me sir, like pretending to be bred but would hate the real thing-“

“Right,” says Miyeon, suddenly sort of sleepy again, nudging her face into the crook of your neck.

“You’re a cumslut.” The words are nasty but the way you’re saying them, smoothing a hand over her hair - it’s all fondness, all feeling. Oh, you really dug yourself a hole here with this one. There’s no coming back from it. “And your pussy is incredible. And you sob like you’re dying when you get fucked good enough.”

“Yep.”

“Am I missing anything?”

Miyeon doesn’t emerge from your neck, just holds out her hand, curls it in a grabbing motion. “Phone,” she says, muffled by your collarbone.

You fish it out of your pocket, charmed. Miyeon adjusts herself in your lap, and you let your hand drop to her hip, balancing her; it’s worse, it’s all falling into place like puzzle pieces. You kiss her hair and she begins to enter her number into your phone. There’s something strangely domestic about it, and it’s such an awful idea, to think it - more damning than the sex, than the cum still dripping out of Miyeon’s pussy. It’s sweet. It’s comfortable. That’s the first - the second - the tenth problem, at least.

“There,” says Miyeon, and hands your phone back to you. “I gave you my number and texted myself.” Her eyes glitter as she tucks her knees up to your chest. “Now I’ve got your number. That means you can’t accidentally grow a guilty conscience and forget about me.”

“Thanks.” You can’t stop looking at her - she’s so gorgeous, so wrecked, your pristine little princess fucked and filled and wrapped up in your arms. “And there’s no way in hell I’d ever forget about you.”

You’re just bouncing back her own words at her, theoretically, but Miyeon beams like she knows you mean more than that. Hey, you did say she was always your best student: she knows how to read between the lines.

You’ve got a wet spot on your pants and Miyeon’s wobbling on unsteady legs, so badly that you basically have to hold her up around the waist - but your pants are black anyway, and you’ve cleaned most of the ruined makeup off of her face. There are efforts made to be presentable. Miyeon tilts her cheek into your shoulder and won’t make eye contact with anyone. The bar’s busy. You pretend not to notice, tug her closer. You grin at the bartender, who raises his eyebrows like he’s impressed - well, he should be.

It’s cold outside - you think Miyeon will freeze in her tiny dress, so you keep your arms around her, and kiss the top of her head. Miyeon smiles at you, all teeth, all tenderness. Her eyes are warm, radiant, softening every edge of the night; she stands on her tiptoes, slots her mouth to yours.

“You’re gonna get me in trouble,” you murmur, fingertips dancing down the curve of her back.

“Probably,” agrees Miyeon, and lets her nose brush yours. “Take me home.”

You do. She doesn’t let you into her apartment - my roommate’s a whore who will try to jump your bones, she tells you matter-of-factly, and doesn’t elaborate, so you let that one go - but you walk her to the door - you’re a gentleman - and then you pin her up against it and slip your hand up her dress, get your fingers on her clit, inside her, cover her mouth as she cums - okay, so maybe you’re not.

“I’m keeping your panties, princess,” you say, after. It’s a fair trade.

Miyeon’s cheeks are flushed pink, and you’ve never found the phrase post-orgasm glow quite so apt. “Okay,” she says, voice softer than her skin as you rub between her shoulder blades, tangling her blonde hair.

You laugh out loud. “There’s no way you’re being shy right now,” you say. “I just fucked you in public-“ You gesture out at the open night, at the occasionally passing cars- “for the second time in an hour.” Your cum from earlier is now dripping down her thighs, too, but that one’s almost too obvious to call attention to.

“A bathroom stall is not public.”

“It was a public bathroom, Miyeon. It’s in the name.”

“You’re lecturing me on semantics?” Miyeon asks, eyes narrowing, a playful slant to her lips. “What are you, my teacher?”

Oh, she loves this - and at this point, you’re too far gone to pretend you don’t kind of love it too. “Shut up,” you say, forgoing maturity, and kiss her one more time, because you have to.

It’s all such a disaster, and you already know this: because it’s too casual, too comfortable, too easy - to kiss her like you’ve got a claim to her, to cum inside her pussy like you own it. You think of framing her fluttering eyelashes and sated, tiny smile as you pull back, think of her in your bed, on your kitchen counter with her legs spread, in the passenger seat of your car with her hand wrapped around your cock. She’s got all the dirtiest parts of your imagination on lock with that face alone. It couldn’t be worse.

“I’ll see you later,” you say, suddenly breathless.

“See you,” Miyeon says, grinning at you - and you know right then that you’ll never be able to leave this alone.

You’re right. It’s a whirlwind. That same weekend, you call her, give her your address, ask her to come over - you accidentally end up on the phone for two hours before she even leaves her apartment, and nothing in the conversation ends up being about sex. You tell her about a new story you’re starting. She tells you about a class she’s taking that she hates, about a gig her friend Yuqi’s band is doing. It’s so easy to get caught up in conversation with her, to tell her about every thought that pops into your head, to listen as she tells you hers - there’s that word again. Easy. It’s bad.

Eventually, Miyeon says, “Oh, I was supposed to come over to fuck you, wasn’t I?”

It’s cute, it’s adorable, even when it shouldn’t be. “You forgot?” you ask, teasing. “I thought all this talk was just foreplay.”

“Yeah, I’m, like, dripping. Talking about how Yuqi’s gonna have to find a replacement for her notoriously flaky keyboardist really got me going.”

You never expect Miyeon to get sarcastic, to get snarky and dry, but it’s always so charming when she does. Even more charming when every time, without fail, she always follows it up with-

“Sorry.” Miyeon breathes out on a giggle, bordering bashful. She can rarely be sassy without apologizing for it immediately after. Oh, it’s her pedigree, it’s the nature of a monarch, all her humility, her politeness - she can never keep a bit running for long.

“You should be,” you say. “Get over here, princess.”

A smile seeps into her voice. “Yes, sir.”

“Oh, my god.” There’s a loud, feminine voice on Miyeon’s end, somewhere in the background, crowing with open delight. “Cho Miyeon, are you having phone sex right now?”

“Nicha,” Miyeon says sharply, clearly scandalized.

“Oh my god.” The word’s a switch flipped: now the voice sounds equally scandalized. “You’re bringing out my government name? Is it that serious?”

Apparently, it is. “Ignore her,” Miyeon says, to you this time. “See you in fifteen minutes.”

You can’t back down from the opportunity to provoke her, especially when you’ve never quite seen her on edge, not the way she sounds right now. Whoever this Nicha person is - she knows exactly how to push Miyeon’s buttons. Well, you’ll take a page out of her book.

“Hey,” you say, grinning, “speaking of phone sex - you know, I wouldn’t be opposed-“

“Ugh!” You can practically hear Miyeon’s flustered expression through the phone, can see the pretty, flattering way she’d blush and pout and slump her shoulders. “You’re - you’re fucking impossible. Bye. Bye!”

“See you in fifteen minutes,” you echo, and laugh out loud when she huffs one more time, and hangs up the phone.

Look, your apartment’s nothing special - you’re on a teacher’s salary, for fuck’s sake. It’s serviceable, bland. You’ve got some plants, you’ve got well-kept bookshelves, you keep it clean and uncluttered. You’ve got some recessed lighting and a vintage sofa. Needless to say, your apartment’s never seen a lot of luxury. The walls, the furniture, the floors - they’re patently unused to pretty things. You don’t have the means, or the motive. It’s just you. There’s no one to impress.

Okay - until now, at least, because you’ve got-

“Oh, look at my girl.”

You’ve got your fists wrapped in blonde hair, got wet, vulgar gurgling sounds bouncing floor-to-ceiling, got the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen on her knees in front of you with your cock shoved down her throat. It’s all so new. If these walls could talk - but they can’t, so she’s all yours. You’ll live with it.

“You’re so good for me, princess. You love choking on that fucking cock, huh?”

You can’t believe Miyeon’s face: her fine eyebrows upturned, the tears streaking down her face, running dark with eyeliner, mascara - the way she’s slobbering around your cock, drooling. The way she tilts her chin back, breathes through her nose, relaxes her throat; the way she lets you grab her head and fuck her face like you’ve got the right to.

(Well, you do. She’s yours. She sure as hell feels it with your cock knocking right into her gag reflex.)

“You’re mine,” you say, and it’s so soon, so possessive. Miyeon, on her knees in front of you, a vision when she’s being fucked out and used. “This throat belongs to me, baby. I’m gonna fuck it whenever I want, okay?” You pause, give a particularly violent thrust, bite back a moan. “Don’t pretend like you don’t fucking love it.”

Miyeon’s not pretending at all, actually; she’s too far gone for that. Her top is already tugged up, her tits heaving with each wet, strangled breath, with each time you grab her skull and bury yourself into her throat - and then there’s the fact that her knees are parted, her underwear long gone, her own fingers deep inside her pussy.

No point in any pretense. It’s all out there on the table - oh, that’s an idea, bending her over every flat surface of your house; every piece of furniture can see this new, pretty thing you own - and she’s got nothing to hide. She’s so turned on just from letting you use her like your own personal fuckdoll. There’s no coming back from this, either.

It’s those Bambi eyes, wide and watery. She’s staring rapturously at you like she’d do anything for you - and only Cho Miyeon can turn a blowjob - well, a full facefuck, really - into something holy. She’s the one on her knees, sure, but there’s no other way to put it: she lets you ram your dick down her throat and you swear you’re seeing Jesus.

She’s got this expert mouth, the way she knows all the right things to do to take a cock like yours - she gags like it’s something purposeful, performative; even the way her spit dribbles down her chin seems choreographed.

“I’m gonna cum now,” you exhale, and it’s not a request, “down your fucking throat, and you’re gonna swallow it all because you’re just a hole for me to use, yeah?” You see Miyeon’s fingers moving faster in and out of her pussy, her rhythm turning sloppy, irregular - the way she gets off on being treated like your property is unbelievable, it’s godly. “Nasty fucking cumslut.” It’s a way to up the ante: she loves the praise, but she loves the degradation, too - she really will take whatever you give her and love it. “Gonna fill your throat with my cum, gonna make you fucking take it-“

You cum down her throat, buried completely, and feel her swallow over the head of your cock, gulping down all your cum. It’s a concerted effort, it’s somehow with all the focus in the world despite how she’s got her cunt stuffed with her own fingers, practically humping her own hand, leaking all over your floors - and when you slowly unsheathe yourself from Miyeon’s hot, wet mouth, her eyes fall shut, her jaw still half-open.

“Look at you,” you murmur, spent and a bit mesmerized - it wasn’t a small load, and you’re not an easy cock to take. You lower yourself to the ground next to her, stroking your thumb across the soft curve of her jaw. “Oh, princess.”

Miyeon opens her mouth, sticks out her pink tongue, shows it clean and cum-free.

You grin, a little wildly. “Good girl.”

“Thank you, sir.” You take her delicate wrist in your hand, bring her cum-slick fingers to your lips - you’ll have to get your mouth on that pussy eventually, but this’ll do for now. Miyeon doesn’t even make any effort to stand, just throws herself half in your lap, her bare thighs grazing your cock. She looks up at you with those glassy, hypnotizing eyes as you suck her own cum off of her fingers, trembling, oversensitive; you’re sure she made herself cum probably more than once. “You liked fucking my mouth?”

It’s the way she asks it, all this faux-innocence: she obviously knows you loved it and she’s just fishing for compliments. Well, you’ll indulge her.

“Of course,” you tell her, bemused by her transparency, and skim your thumb over one of her nipples, making her shiver. “You’re - you’re really good at that, you know.”

Miyeon tilts her head, tongues the corner of her red, well-fucked mouth. “At sucking cock?” Her expression shifts, takes a turn - there’s a wit hiding in the whole virtuous act she likes playing so well. “I’m just a natural, I guess. I’ve never sucked a cock before in my life.” She nods, all false humility. “That was my first time, actually.”

She’s fucking with you, but you’d probably never be able to catch it if you hadn’t picked up on at least a few of her tells by now. “Shut the fuck up,” you say, and all of a sudden you’re laughing, defenseless after your mildly world-shattering orgasm. “You’re so stupid.”

“No, you want the truth? I was a virgin before that night in the bar. You totally deflowered me.”

“Miyeon.”

“I’m being serious.” Miyeon’s smiling sweetly now, always ready to run a joke into the ground. She’s mostly naked on your lap, and she’s leaving a wet spot on your jeans from god knows how many times she came just from fingering herself, just from getting her throat fucked. It’s insane how she can still bring out this virginal angel just to mess with you. “I’m a good girl, like you said. You corrupted me. All of this sluttiness is entirely recent and completely your fault.”

“Shut up,” you complain, but you’re still laughing, and now Miyeon’s breaking character just to laugh at you, too.

“Sorry,” she says, and she’s burying her face into your neck, slightly delirious, her shoulders shaking with her giggles. “Sorry. You’re right. You caught me. I’ve been a whore this whole time.”

“I know, baby,” you tell her tolerantly, and kiss her temple, move some of the damp, unruly strands of hair off her cheeks. After a face-fuck that rough, it’s almost unfathomable that the energy between you two ends up getting too sentimental for the moment, but maybe it’s just the way things were always meant to go.

Like you said, there’s this new story you’re starting. It’s nothing long-term, nothing especially complicated. It’s about a girl, so it’s the oldest story ever told. It’s about longing, so you’re leaning into the melodrama. It’s all about the feeling, and where you’re at in your life, right now, you’ve never quite lived through the kind of love that’s in all the novels, so you’re mostly making it up, playing it by ear, pulling fiction from fantasy.

(That’s what you’ll tell yourself. It’s really too soon for it to be anything else.)

Things escalate, fast. Miyeon’s over at your place all the time. Sometimes you pick her up from some of her later classes, take her out, take her back to your apartment. They’re not dates, exactly. You both just have a love for cinema, for new bestsellers that you discuss like you’re middle-aged wine moms at a book club, getting too into it. Also, once you two get wrapped up in conversation, it’s almost impossible to just drop it there. You and Miyeon start talking and you never really stop.

It’s like you blink and suddenly you’re two months in - and it’s not like you’re in a relationship, but it’s pretty clear that you’re exclusively fooling around, and you also spend so much of your time together that you know what’d it look like to an outsider. You talk to Miyeon about pretty much everything, but you avoid any mention of making it official. You’re two months in, and she finally invites you over to her apartment.

“I know,” she says, the first time you come over. “It’s egregious. I get it.”

You haven’t even said anything, but she’s not wrong. Her apartment’s gorgeous once you see it on the inside, and way bigger than you thought it was - ridiculous, considering it’s just her and her roommate. Nothing like what you’d expect the average college student to be able to afford, but-

“My family,” Miyeon offers, by way of explanation. “They like to spoil me.” You’d kind of already known that, though. The high school you teach at is this swanky private one, and it wasn’t unusual to have the children of business tycoons, lawyers, doctors, the like - and she’d graduated from there, so it’s not quite out of left field. “And my roommate’s descended from Thai royalty, or something. She’s not exactly hurting for money, either.”

“Naturally,” you say.

So her apartment becomes fair game, too. She gives you her spare key like it’s nothing - easy access, she tells you, covers up the intimacy with innuendo. She forbids you from coming around when her roommate is home, but that ends up being a lost cause. You’re bound to have run-ins with her friends, you realize that - Miyeon’s always been exceedingly well-liked, notoriously popular - but it doesn’t fully hit you how seriously close you’ve gotten until it actually happens.

You’ve somehow managed to fuck her almost everywhere in her apartment without running into her roommate until it’s a Sunday, almost three months from that first day - and everything about you and Miyeon together is sacrilege, you know that; maybe it’s a sign - and you’re coming to take her out to this sale at your favorite bookstore, and probably fuck her in the bathroom of the coffee shop next door. It’s a toss-up, it’s all going according to plan-

That is, until you step into the kitchen, and there’s a girl standing at the counter who is decidedly not Miyeon.

“Uh,” you say. “Hello?”

The girl glances up at her phone, immediately gets this curl to her red-lipped mouth, and - oh.

This is the roommate. It’s clear, in an instant: you’ve heard how Miyeon talks about her roommate, you’ve heard her voice on the phone - you’re not a fan of using any derogatory language towards women you don’t know, so you’ll put it like this: she’s got a reputation already. She smiles at you coyly, puts her phone face-down on the counter; she’s living up to it.

“Hi,” she says, voice smooth, velvety. She’s got these unreasonably gorgeous eyes, accented with thick eyeliner, mascara: they’re a striking, arresting pale green, at odds with the fairness of her skin, the jet-black of her hair. “You’re Miyeon’s boyfriend, right?”

“Um,” you say, intelligently; so, that’s a label you two still haven’t discussed. You should get on that, maybe.

The girl’s smile widens, like she’s taking your hesitation as a go-ahead, a green light. Oh, this one’s trouble. You know it without even knowing her.

“Well,” she says, propping her elbows up on the kitchen counter. She’s wearing a tight, low-cut shirt - it’s insanely flattering, and, hey, you’re only human. You notice but you’ll pretend that you don’t. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Minnie.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say, a little amused by the performance of it all.

Minnie tilts her head, looking you up and down. Her eyes fall half-lidded, in this sleepy, sexy way that seems unintentional, but you’re already getting the sense that nothing Minnie does is unintentional.

“Hey,” she purrs, and it already sounds like a proposition. “You’re kind of hot, you know.”

“Oh, am I?” you ask, humoring her. She’s just so obvious. It’s sort of fascinating.

“I’d say so.” Minnie rounds the counter, and she’s wearing this short skirt, legs bare and slender, all toned. Her hair brushes just past the high line of her collarbone. There's something about her that oozes sex appeal - it’s impossible to ignore.

“Just a heads-up,” she says, “if you ever get bored of Miyeon and her whole princess thing, my room’s right down the hall from hers.” Minnie smiles, devilish. There’s an irony about it that makes you wonder if it’s a genuine offer or some sort of private joke she’s making, something you’re not cool enough to be in on. “So - you know where I am.”

It’s more than slightly hilarious that you met thirty seconds ago, and she’s already offering up sex like it’s nothing - if she were less gorgeous, you’d laugh out loud, but Minnie wears her allure like jewelry, something to show off and brag about. This is definitely a girl who’s used to getting what she wants.

It doesn’t escape you that Minnie’s the polar opposite of Miyeon, who wields her beauty with all this innocence, all the false wide-eyed naïvete in the word - she’s a good girl, that’s her starring role. This girl - Minnie - nothing about her’s innocent, not in the least. Her tongue darts across her bottom lip; she looks like she’d eat you alive, if given the chance. She’s hot. She’s also not even remotely your type, because that’s obviously-

“Oh my god,” says Miyeon, rushing down the stairs, feet hitting the hardwood as she practically jumps off the last step. “Oh my god. Nicha, I swear to god, if you’re trying to fuck him right now-”

Minnie actually looks mildly pained. “Please chill with the government name.”

“You’re such a whore,” grumbles Miyeon, bounding towards you to clutch at your hand. It’s a side you’ve never seen of her: jealousy. It’s adorable, but everything she does is adorable. Miyeon glares pointedly at Minnie, tells you, “The eyes are fake. Don’t fall for it.”

“What?” you ask. Minnie blinks at you, grins.

“They’re colored contacts,” says Miyeon, scowling. “Fake. So fake. She’s not even that hot without them.”

“I’m very hot without them,” argues Minnie, but she leans back, brushing her hair over her shoulders - it’s a clear surrender, a white flag waving. She’s backing off.

“Sorry,” she says, and barely sounds like she means it, but her smile’s charming enough for her to pull it off. “Didn’t mean to be a homewrecker or whatever.”

You’re not really sure what it is, but it takes a second, and it’s like you’re looking at someone totally different. Minnie’s whole sensual persona slips away, vanishes entirely - now she’s just got her head tipped like a puppy, watching the two of you with curious eyes. Even her voice rises in pitch - so there’s the behind-the-scenes, the performance dropped. She’d probably make a killing as an actress. It’s actually almost impressive, how she can turn the seduction off and on like a switch.

“Liar,” says Miyeon, detaching herself from you, but the venom’s drained out of her voice. She goes to Minnie, winds her arms around her waist, kisses Minnie’s cheek affectionately. “She’s a natural slut,” she says to you, but now she’s smiling too. “She can’t help it.”

“It’s in my genes,” agrees Minnie, pressing her lips to the top of Miyeon’s head.

“Right,” you say. You’re getting the feeling the bickering is just a facet of Miyeon and Minnie’s friendship, because they very clearly adore each other. Oh, well. It’s cute. You won’t question it.

“And she likes to take things that belong to me,” adds Miyeon, a certain wickedness to it, a threat.

You raise your eyebrows at her; possessiveness looks great on her, but then again, so does everything. Minnie shrugs, doesn’t even bother to deny it. Clearly, it’s an old fight, a score they’ve far past settled.

“Good to know,” you say, and hardly lift a hand in Miyeon’s direction - she comes to you as easy as if you’d given her a verbal command. It’s not exactly subtle, how she slips under your arm like it’s an order she’s following.

“Oh,” says Minnie, and it sounds like oh, I get it - it’s like that. Like she’s got you two pegged instantly. Maybe she does. “You guys are dating.”

“We’re not,” says Miyeon, boredly. The disinterest’s entirely an act, but an excellent one.

“Baby, it wasn’t a question,” says Minnie, wry like she can read Miyeon’s mind. There’s something so intense about her eyes, no matter how false they might be - the way they flick from you to Miyeon, drawing lines, dynamics. You don’t know how much Miyeon has told her, but she observes the two of you like she knows everything and then some. She purses her lips, then packs it up. You’re not sure what she’s seeing when she looks at you and Miyeon but you think you’ve got an idea.

“Have a good night,” Minnie tells you, and the smile that follows is secretive, enigmatic. “And it was so great to finally meet you.”

“She seems nice,” you say.

“She’s a whore,” says Miyeon, rapid-fire, and then laughs a sudden, musical laugh. “She’s also, like, my favorite person in the world. I didn’t think you’d meet her like that - I swear I thought she wasn’t home.”

“So crazy that she thought we were dating,” you say, dryly.

“Yeah,” Miyeon replies, in your car, pretty in a pink dress as you’re taking her out. The sarcasm’s too thick to call out. You both know what game you’re playing, by now. “Who could’ve ever come to a stupid conclusion like that?”

You two are able to talk about anything, you settle on a handful of books to buy, you don’t even have to go next door because you get Miyeon’s panties off in the dark alleyway, sink to your knees and eat her out. She squeals and mewls and sucks at keeping quiet. Her pussy’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted, but you’ve learned by now that Miyeon’s the kind of girl who’s impossible to compete with.

“I’m fucking obsessed with you,” she tells you, shamelessly, as you wipe her cum off of your chin.

“Right back at you,” you say, and kiss her until she’s gasping for air. There’s nowhere else you’d rather be but with her, and you don’t have to ask - she kneels to return the favor, and you know she feels the same.

Minnie actually ends up having a running commentary on your relationship - you’ve realized by now that she’s Miyeon’s best friend, which means she doesn’t believe in boundaries, or mincing words. Case in point - well, there’s several, but you’ll settle for this one:

“Jesus fucking Christ,” says Minnie, one evening, when she catches you and Miyeon on the couch in their apartment. “You two are disgusting.”

It’s a big reaction, considering you and Miyeon aren’t anywhere near having sex - you’re hotly debating the quality of an Netflix miniseries you just finished binge-watching together, discussing themes and plot points and character arcs. Miyeon’s defending it to the death, calling it camp, pulling up comparisons to cinematic masterpieces on her phone. You hate it; you’re arguing that it’s trite garbage, clinical and passionless and dumb.

“What?” says Miyeon, confused. “We’re just talking.”

“Yeah,” you say. “We’re fully clothed and everything.”

“It’s disgusting that Miyeon somehow found someone just as pretentious as she is to argue about her dumbass TV shows with,” clarifies Minnie, her arms crossed. “It’s gross. You two are gross. Like - we get it, you’re made for each other because you both take media analysis way too seriously.”

Miyeon stares at her, mouth agape. Minnie turns on her heel and walks right out, apparently too nauseated by you both to tolerate your presence any longer.

“Um,” you say, a little lost for words.

Miyeon’s discarded her phone on her coffee table, and now she’s watching you, eyes suddenly soft. You raise your eyebrows at her, can’t fight the smile at how she scoots closer to you, tucks her thighs up to her knee. “Yes?” you ask, expectantly.

“Nothing,” Miyeon says, tapping her dainty fingers along your wrist, thumb skipping across your pulse point. “But you’ve thought about it before, haven’t you?”

You don’t pretend that you don’t know what she’s talking about - you respect her too much for that. You nod, watch her throat bobs when she swallows, looks up at you carefully, like she’s trying to memorize the look on your face.

“Alright,” says Miyeon, finally. “It’s just - we kind of work, in a weird way.”

It’s cute, her restraint. You slip a hand in her hair, bring her close so you can kiss her forehead. “We kind of do,” you tell her, and you have faith that you’ll get there. It’s only a matter of time.

You’re still not really dating, but - so, it’s complicated.

It’s a Tuesday when you’re both out getting coffee together, and it’s under the pretense of sex, because it always is. Miyeon likes getting fucked where she knows she can get caught, and it’s her thing, it’s a pattern: public bathrooms, parks, alleyways, dressing rooms. There’s something so filthy about it, the juxtaposition - your perfect, pristine girl, begging for your cock in the nastiest places, biting down on your fingers to keep from screaming, walking out with cum dripping from her cunt like it’s nothing. It’s worse because nothing about her’s inconspicuous, after this - she walks out of every round looking exactly like she just had the best sex of her life, and nothing less. Everyone who sees you two together knows what you’re up to. It’s just that much hotter.

So - that’s the thing. It’s easy for you guys to spend all your free time together - between the college classes she’s taking, between the high school ones you’re teaching. You call her on lunch breaks, after you’re done for the day, say all sorts of suggestive things; she responds in kind, all dirty texts and pictures. Her pussy takes up half your photo gallery. See, it’s not romantic, at its core; it can’t be. It’s too dirty. There’s nothing sweet about it.

Except-

You’re supposed to be having a hook-up, right now. You’re supposed to be fucking her in the bathroom of this coffee shop. That was the proposition when she texted you i need your dick now with absolutely zero shame, along with pictures of her outfit, her tiny white top pulled down to expose her creamy tits, her hard nipples. That was the entire idea.

“I love that book,” Miyeon’s telling you now, splitting a slice of coffee cake with you across the table. Best laid plans, or whatever. Somehow you two always get distracted by conversation first. “Well, that’s the thing about you and me. Nobody my own age appreciates classic literature.”

“That’s such a lie,” you say, endeared. “You’re flattering me.”

“None of my friends know them front to back like you do,” she points out, tucking her hair behind her ear. Her stunning eyes are bright, her words fast and passionate - she always gets like this when she’s excited, animated, dialed up to eleven. You shouldn’t find it as adorable as you do. “Because you’ve taught them. You’ve studied them - you get all the nuance. Also, you’re old.”

She’s making fun of you. “Cool it.”

“But it’s true,” Miyeon laments, pushing buttons on purpose. “Of course you know the classics - you’re, like, ancient enough to remember when they all first came out.”

“I’m seven years older than you.” It’s been established, by now. Miyeon still gets off on the gap between you two, even though it’s nowhere near as wide as she likes to pretend it is. “Calm down.”

You’re smiling, though. Miyeon grins, takes a bite of her cake. “You get me, is my point,” she says, dropping the dramatics. “That’s all I’m saying.”

You’re supposed to be fucking her half to death in a public bathroom by now, and you probably will, after all of this. It’s just - you’re blurring lines. You’re not dating, not really. It’s just that you can talk to her for hours on end without getting bored, and sometimes all you have to do is look at her to know exactly what she’s thinking, exactly what dumb joke she’s about to make, exactly what face she’ll pull at something you say. It’s just supposed to be sex, but she’s all you ever think about. It’s nothing serious, but you get the sense she feels the same way.

“I do,” you say, softer than intended.

There’s this way Miyeon smiles at you, sometimes. It’s the same look she gets on her face when you’re watching one of her favorite movies together, something woefully pretentious and deeply romantic, something that’s bound to get her teary-eyed and laughing at the same time, curled up in your lap. Like she’s looking at something she’d never want to look away from.

“Well,” she says decisively, and under the table, her hand finds your thigh. You’ll put a pin in all those feelings. They’ll come back around eventually. “I’m glad we agree. Wanna fuck me senseless in the bathroom now?”

Even now, you’ll never be able to refuse her, but you’ll play nonchalant. “Tempting.”

“I know,” Miyeon says, doe-eyed, and her mouth tips to a smirk. She’s so sentimental until she isn’t. “You can’t resist me.”

“Nope,” you comply, giving in like it’s nothing, and then you’re tugging her right out of her seat. Well, it’s par for the course. When it’s you and her together, neither of you can keep up an act for long.

You’re not dating, and it’s not sweet, it’s not romance. It actually gets kind of extreme, there in that one-person bathroom, where you’ve got her back against the counter and one of her thighs tucked to her chest, and you’re pounding her pussy so hard it’s bordering violent. She’s sniffling, tears dribbling down her cheeks, and that’s all her signs at once: she’s only this much of a mess when she’s loving it.

“Look at you, princess,” you murmur, and she gasps into the fingers you’ve got stuffed in her mouth, drooling all over you. “You’re just addicted to this cock in that tiny little pussy, aren’t you? You’d let me keep you like this for fucking days, just being my pretty fucking cockwarmer. You’d die for it.”

Miyeon grips your wrist, spits your fingers out from between her lips. Her eyes are mesmerizing, glassy and lined with newly mussed makeup from how she’s crying - she’s become such a disaster, so fast. This is always the best part: how you wreck her, how she lets you.

“Yes,” she pants. “It’s yours, it’s all yours - feels so good, sir, my pussy belongs to you-”

“I know, baby.” You grip your hand in her silky blonde hair, and the whimper she lets out is from the pain, from the pleasure - for her, it’s the thinnest line, it’s already overlapping. “Let me keep you on my cock for a weekend, cumming in all your holes…” You lean in close, nip at her ear, yank her head back. “Imagine it,” you hum. “Imagine just being my cumdump for days, just taking load after load in that little cunt. Keeping you on my lap, all that cum inside you, plugged up by my dick…”

Miyeon knows it’s coming. You can tell how her eyes fall shut, how her tiny body trembles, how she clenches around your cock - she’s trying so hard to keep quiet and only half-succeeding. Well, you’ll push her over the edge.

“How long do you think it’d take to get you knocked up?”

“Stop,” she whimpers, but she darts a glance up at you in the mirror, eyes glimmering. You’ve got your boundaries, your safewords - you know it’s not an actual rejection.

“Stop?” you ask, and there’s danger in the way you laugh, a warning. Miyeon catches it, whines and writhes and only gets wetter. “Please. Don’t act like you don’t love the idea of me breeding that slutty fucking pussy. Cumming all the way inside your womb, filling you up with my load - you’re young, Miyeon, you know what you are.” It’s two hits in one, and she bites so hard into her bottom lip you’re shocked she’s not drawing blood. “A tight little body like this is fucking made to be bred. You’d be so fucking lucky if I got you pregnant, wouldn’t you? If I used you as a fuckhole to breed and nothing else - if I fucking owned you, made you belong to me, used you like my fucking property-”

Miyeon’s breathing stutters so badly you think she might be on the verge of hyperventilating - but you’ve also never seen her so ruined, so consumed by your cock in her, by the fantasy you’re painting. “Oh my fucking god,” she chokes out, and she keeps it as quiet as she can - you’re still in public, and the pressure’s only getting to her more, getting her hot and riled and helpless - but she’s too far gone for composure. “Oh my god. Oh, fuck-”

“Say it,” you snarl, right at her ear. “Say it, princess. I know you want to. Tell me what you want me to fucking do to you.”

There’s no stopping, no stalling - you’ve pushed her right to the edge, and she’s past pretending like she doesn’t want exactly what you’re giving her.

“I want you to breed me.” Miyeon’s sobbing, lost in the euphoria, in the very thought of it - the way she lets you break her so completely, in public where anyone would catch her: it’s criminal, it’s tugging an angel out of the sky just to fuck her down to hell. “I - just need you to fuck me, breed me, use me - do whatever you want to me, I just need you, sir, I need it - you’re right, I’m just a fuckhole, you own me, I belong to you-”

“That’s my girl.” Your hand drops to her clit just as her elbows hit the hard surface of the counter.

When she cums, now you know she draws blood - she’s got her knuckles at all her pretty white teeth, and the way her body contorts as her orgasm overwhelms her is something animalistic, feral. You’re cumming with her, but you can’t take your eyes off of Miyeon’s reflection in the mirror, off of the straps of her top hanging off her slender shoulders, the mess you’ve made of her hair, the destroyed makeup dripping from her eyes - there’s something so aesthetically flawless about the crease between her eyebrows, the heavy rise and fall of her chest, the way she spits scarlet blood into the sink in one quick, debilitated move. It’s like she’s a masterpiece, fucked out, fucked up. She's a portrait made to be ogled, observed and fawned over. Every detail’s goddamn perfect.

You catch her around the waist, slide your cock out of her as she whimpers. Her pale knuckles are beading with blood, and she’s still got some between her teeth. Miyeon turns her head again, spits, but it comes out weaker, drool slipping from the corner of her mouth.

“Miyeon,” you mumble, and go for her purse on the counter instead of the paper towel dispenser - when you’ve got a girl who likes being fucked in public as much as Miyeon does, you’re a pro at damage control by now.

The sound Miyeon lets out isn’t even close to anything coherent, any full words or sentiments. You take the package of makeup wipes, pat Miyeon’s hip, turn her around. “You’re okay,” you tell her, gently getting to work at the eyeliner, the bloody spit at her lips. “Oh, sweetheart. It’s okay. I got you.”

Miyeon still can’t speak, but she leans her lithe body into you, lets you take her jaw in your hand. There’s something so careful about the way you clean her up, take care of her after - that’s the thing about fucking a masterpiece; there’s an upkeep to it, a science in the art.

You toss the used makeup wipes in the trash when you’re done, then spin her around, smooth your hands through her hair. “Alright,” you say, and you go for her panties, tugging them back up around her hips. Your cum will be leaking out of her the whole way home, but it’s par for the course. “How are we holding up?”

There’s always this disparity between the two of you - she can barely walk after cumming, you’re mostly functional. It’s how you work, you think. She’s your girl, your baby; it’s the point. She knows you’ve got her, no matter what you do to her.

Miyeon meets your eyes in the mirror, breathing evening out, completely spent. She curves into you, into your hand on her tiny waist, and presses her lips to your cheek.

“You already know this,” she says, voice hoarse. You flip the tap on to wash her blood out of the sink, go for a tissue in her purse. “But no one compares to you, ever.”

It shouldn’t get to you like it does, but it does.

You press the tissue to Miyeon’s bloody knuckles, kiss the high point of her wrist. “Well,” you tell her, unable to drag your gaze away from those gorgeous eyes, looking at you with all the open devotion in the world. “It’s a good thing the feeling’s mutual.”

You run into one of the employees outside the bathroom, but there’s not a line, thank god. Well, it could be worse.

The employee’s staring at the two of you like she’s suspicious but too grossly underpaid to call you on anything. “Um,” she says.

“Sorry,” you say, and pull Miyeon tight to your side, slipping the palm of your hand over her stomach. “My wife - she’s pregnant with her first. Morning sickness.” You kiss the top of Miyeon’s hair. “Takes a lot out of her.”

Miyeon’s gawking at you with wide, shocked eyes. You ignore it, smile beatifically.

It’s not a bad act, on your part. The employee says, “Oh, yeah, okay. You were just in there a while, so I was - well, congrats, on the baby.”

“Thanks,” you say politely, and slip past the employee, Miyeon tucked under your arm. “That’s kind of you, really.”

The performance comes unraveled the moment you leave the coffee shop, and Miyeon’s half-irate, slapping at your chest, wavering on unsteady legs as you step out on the sidewalk together. You grin down at her, play dumb. “What’s wrong?”

“You are so fucked in the head,” accuses Miyeon, but then she’s laughing so raucously that she almost tumbles to the concrete in her platform sandals. You steady her waist, rein her back in. “You’re so - your wife? Pregnant? You’re such a - I hate you, I seriously-��

“You seemed to like the idea when I was fucking you.”

Miyeon’s been railed a little stupid, still, so she’s sort of slow on the uptake, can’t find a good comeback. She flounders, then says, “Um, no,” and it’s the weakest lie you’ve ever heard.

“No?” You crack up, lead her towards your car. “Need me to refresh your memory?”

“Maybe,” says Miyeon slyly, not even hesitating, and you roll your eyes and open the car door for her. You’ll circle back to that plan another day.

“So,” says Miyeon, later, in the passenger seat of your car. The window’s rolled down and the wind is throwing her blonde hair into disarray, sending her cheeks pink and lips bitten from the cold. She’s a vision, but she always is. “Cockwarming weekend? Or are you just all talk?”

You risk a glance over at her, pretend like you wouldn’t stop traffic just to stare. “Don’t be a brat.”

“You love it when I’m a brat,” says Miyeon, correctly, shuffling in her seat. There are bruises on her thigh from how hard you gripped her when you fucked her, hickeys decorating the delicate rise of her collarbone. She’s filled with your cum, but that’s nothing new. “So? What do you think about next week?”

“Miyeon,” you say, unable to tell if she’s actually serious.

“I trust you’ll handle the logistics,” she says, her voice lilting, melodic, and her hand grazes your cheek, tangles into your hair. She says it like I trust you, like do whatever you want to me - I’ll let you.

It’s a dirty proposal, but she manages to sneak sweetness in there anyway. There’s sincerity, between the lines of all the filth. It’s a running theme.

“I’ll ruin you,” you warn, and it should send alarms blaring.

Miyeon smiles like they’re the best sound she’s ever heard. “Oh, no,” she says, thumbing the side of your mouth, and she’s laughing. “I think that ship has already sailed.”

You make a lot of progress, on that story of yours. There’s no real reason: it’s just that you’ve found a muse who’s always content to be right by your side, clothed or unclothed, cumming or laughing or talking, wrapped up in your sheets past all the orgasms and far into the night.

(Miyeon stays, against all odds, even when you both know she doesn’t have to. Maybe, for you, there’s just a lot of inspiration to be found in that.)

planning for a part 2... eventually... but we'll see lmao

#kpop smut #kpop fanfic #idol x male reader #gidle smut #male reader #reader insert #miyeon smut

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lolahasmoxie · 6 months

Text

Cat Fishing - (E.M.)

I came here to write some absolute smut but got this in my head when my friends sent me this. Enjoy!

You were enjoying a lovely, quiet afternoon at home.

Eddie and Wayne had left before dawn to go fishing about two hours from your home. Wayne was looking forward to bringing home some fresh fish for dinner, and Eddie was looking forward to some quality time with his Uncle.

After you had sleepily walked the boys to their truck, you went back to sleep until a more respectable hour. Then, after breakfast, you did some tidying and laundry and ran a few errands.

It was early afternoon, and you were reading a book in the recliner while the TV played in the background. You only looked up from your book when you heard the rumble of Wayne's beloved pickup pull up your driveway.

You barely had the door open when Eddie barrelled through and kissed you like he hadn't seen you in years. His hands cupped your cheeks as you grasped his shoulders for balance.

"Holy shit, Eds, it's only been 10 hours!" you gasped as you caught your breath.

"What, I can't show my best girl that I've been thinking about her all day?" You pulled back, noticing that Eddie seemed jumpy. You narrowed your eyes at him.

"What did you do?" Eddie's Bambi eyes grew large, and it was then that you noticed the large lump in his jacket.

"I didn't do anything."

"Edward."

"Shit, the government name," he muttered, and you sighed as you stepped closer. You reached for the zipper of his jacket and slowly pulled down. You gasped when two furry heads popped out and began meowing.

"Some asshole must have left them out there. They were so desperate they jumped in the river and swam to us, babe."

"They're so tiny!" you whisper shout, taking the orange one into your arms while Eddie takes out the all-black one. Both kittens started purring at the attention, and Eddie couldn't help but grin when you looked back at him.

"We're keeping them, right?"

"I don't know, babe,"

"Oh no, don't you dare play dumb with me. Coming in here with your I don't know bullshit. You knew exactly what you were doing."

Eddie has the decency to look guilty, but that panty-dropping smile you love reaches ear to ear now that he knows you're on board.

"I had a feeling you wouldn't say no, but Wayne had me second-guessing myself. Wanna know their names?"

"Of course, you already named them."

Eddie gives you a glare before reaching for the orange kitten.

"This little guy," he says, holding up the orange kitten, "is Cliff." You giggle when Cliff meows as if he's already accepted the moniker Eddie has bestowed him.

"I sense a theme here."

"Hush, woman. And this one is named Kirk." Kirk turns, and you gasp at his pale green eyes. He's fluffier than Cliff, and you can tell that lint brushes are about to be a part of your imminent future.

"Cliff and Kirk Munson. I like it. Did you and Wayne catch anything?"

"Yeah, we cleaned and gutted them before heading back. Why don't you take these two, and I'll help the old man."

"Wait, we don't have anything for these guys."

"No worries, we stopped at the pet store on the way home. We have everything our two babies will need." There's a kiss on your cheek, and then he's out the door, your mind trying to wrap around Eddie using the phrase "our babies" that has your hormones feeling a new kind of way. You're brought out of your thoughts when your boys begin meowing for attention.

"Come on, boys," you coo gently. "Let's go wait for Daddy to come back."

LATER THAT NIGHT.

"Eddie, close the door."

"And lock our precious children out?"

"When they run over us at 3:17am, YES."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader

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blushweddinggowns · 1 year

Text

“Just hold still…and done!” Nancy grinned as she capped the eyeliner. She brushed a lock of hair out of his face before declaring, “You’re officially stage-ready.”

Eddie turned to look at himself in the mirror, instantly pleased with what he saw. Steve always said that his big-ass Bambi eyes were his best feature, and the eyeliner really was making them pop. Add that with the tight jeans, the leather jacket, and the combat boots, and Eddie actually looked like he belonged on a stage.

He looked good, but he only cared so much about his own thoughts, “You think Steve will like it?”

Nancy rolled her eyes, “Like you have to ask. We’ll be lucky if he doesn’t have a heart attack.”

Eddie grinned at that. He could only hope that his reaction would be that good, “And it will last all night?”

“At least for 12 hours,” She reassured, “I used the good stuff. This eyeliner lasted on my mom for a fifteen-hour plane ride once, with layovers. You’re ready.”

Eddie nodded. That was basically equivalent to spending a wild night with Steve, the odds were in his favor. He reached over to give Nancy a one-armed hug, taking the time to hover for a second before she gave him a subtle nod.

“God, you’re such a lifesaver,” Eddie sighed as he squeezed her to his side, “You sure you don’t want to come?”

Nancy snorted, “Are you kidding me? My dad would ground me for the next five years if I got caught. And you know I love you guys but I can barely deal with Steve gushing over you on a normal day, let alone one where you actually look hot.”

“Awwww, you think I’m hot?” Eddie cooed, laughing at the way it made her cringe.

She was already gathering everything back up into her makeup bag, trying and failing to hide her little smile, “Don’t push it.”

But he did, of course he did, the whole way back to the Wheeler house, earning himself a sharp pinch to his arm more than once. He dropped her off at home, promising that they would call her first thing in the morning to say how it went. Then he picked up his boys and the four of them were off, all of them excited out of their minds.

Eddie had never imagined that he would be playing on a real stage, in a real city. It had been a silly little radio contest for a charity event, first five callers got the privilege to audition to be a one-time opener for Metallica, a band that Eddie adored but the rest of the world hadn’t seemed to have caught on to yet. It was a one-time thing, paired with some great luck for the station to catch them for a single night before their next album release. But still, it was a big deal, especially for people like them that had less than zero connections. Steve was the one who insisted that they call in. Eddie had just never thought that they would have actually won.

But they had, and the prize was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to meet a band that Eddie just knew was going to be huge one day. Plus, free hotel rooms for the weekend? What more could a guy ask for?

It was a fun drive, of course it was. You couldn’t get Eddie, Freak, Gareth, and Jeff in a room together without it being a blast. The only problem was that he already missed Steve. Which was, admittedly, stupid as fuck considering that he’d see him in a matter of hours. He just hated that he had to sneak out for this. Or more aptly, he hated that his parents forced him to sneak out for this. But they had a good plan here.

He’d lie and say he was going to bed early to prepare some bullshit elaborate date for Nancy, one that would involve him being gone for all of Saturday. He’d sneak out his window by seven, drive the two hours to be there just in time for the curtains opening at nine-thirty. Then they’d spend the night together like they had been every night for years, his parents none the wiser.

The shitheads.

Saturday night and Sunday would be a little trickier, but Steve was coasting off the fact that his parents usually forgot to say goodbye when they left for a trip. They had a red-eye flight at 3 am, and Nancy was already prepped to make a fake phone call to ask if he could stay for dinner Saturday. With any luck, they would forget about him entirely, both of them too tired to think about the fact that they wouldn't have seen their son for nearly two days. The last bit was more of a gamble, but Steve wasn’t about to let his parents' wrath ruin his shot at a romantic and paid-for weekend with his boyfriend. Besides, when it came to Nancy, his mom basically never questioned anything. Hell, she was basically on the edge of planning their fucking wedding at this point, beyond ecstatic that Steve had finally gotten himself a permanent girlfriend.

God, that girl really was a lifesaver. Eddie was almost surprised at just how much he liked her, and not even because she was beyond useful when it came to hiding their relationship. She was just…kind of cool? He didn’t know how else to describe it, but her whole gun-toting, no-nonsense, and slightly bitchy persona was really doing it for him. Honestly, on a bad day, Eddie was slightly afraid of her, but he kind of liked that too. The fact that she could go from scarily intense to sarcastically hilarious just equated to a winning personality in his book. And that wasn’t even counting how happy she made Steve, and vice versa.

Sometimes he’d wander into the room that they were supposed to be studying in, only to find the two of them completely off the rails either talking about their shared passion for musicals, high school gossip, or more often than not, Steve Harrington approved seduction methods for her to try out on Jonathan Beyers. Or Tom Cruise, depending on the timing.

They wouldn’t even notice that he walked in most of the time, too caught up in laughing with each other. Maybe it was weird, but sometimes Eddie would just watch them for a minute. Steve would be all giggly and smiling and adorable, and it just made Eddie feel warm. Hell, even seeing Nancy happy was enough to make him smile most days, the girl deserved it after everything she’d been through last year. She was a good person and a good friend. And Eddie was going to get her so many corny Indy souvenirs for covering their asses tonight.

They were all nervous as hell when they finally got there, but actually getting to meet the band while they were setting up went surprisingly well. Though that mostly had to do with the fact that they had prepared for it. They had a fool-proof system of aggressively stepping on each other’s feet when one got a bit too fangirly. And though it left all four with some bruises, it did manage to stop Gareth from telling James Hetfield that he would totally marry him if he was a chick. They made a good impression, Eddie was pretty damn sure of it considering they offered free tickets for their next tour.

It was fun, even if he was still nervous as all hell when it was their time to play. He had never felt this anxious walking out on stage before. Maybe that had to do with the fact that it was a real stage, but still. He wasn’t the type to be nervous about performing at all, whether that be at the Hideout or hopping on lunch tables for an impassioned speech.

He swallowed as he looked out into the crowd, heart pounding in his chest as he realized just how many people were there. It was a far cry from the Hideout where they would be lucky to get ten people to actually notice when they were finished. But this had to be a hundred plus. Eddie’s eyes zeroed into the front row, scanning it for the one thing that could calm him down. It didn’t take long to spot him.

There he was, smack dab in the middle of the row, completely out of place with his adorable pink polo. He was leaning against the railing, hearts in his eyes as he waved up at him. Eddie grinned, his nerves disappearing the second Steve blew him a kiss. Just the sight of him was enough to bring Eddie back down to earth.

He stepped up to the mic, guitar in hand, and started to sing.

Excerpt from chapter 14 of this fic

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve harrington #the universe trapped in your skin #stranger things #very indulgent chapter #before the drama of season 2 #and i know thats not how radio contests work or where metallica even was but #lucky for me its all fantasy lol #this is sfw but the fic itself is not #secret relationship steddie #beard nancy wheeler #steddie childhood friends au #steve and nancy friendship #eddie and nancy friendship

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things-arent-what-they-seem66 · 3 days

Note

I remembered the song All Dolled Up by theOrionExperience and realised that it's SO Holydust besties coded!! A fun night out to forget their troubles for a few hours and just enjoy each other's company.

You can take this as a writing prompt if you feel like writing about it <33

Indigo (platonic holydust advocate)

As a fellow platonic holydust advocate I'm in! And somehow I made it about Adamsapple angst lol It's my superpower apparently.

Feel free to send more prompts/asks!

"Hey, you wanna go out and get fucked up tonight?" Angel asked Adam as he stood in the sinners doorway.

Oh boy did Adam need some fun. "Fuck yeah, ready when you are."

"Great, let's go." Adam followed Angel out and down to the lobby. He didn't miss the side eye that Angel gave Husk. "We're going out, later."

"Where are you going?" Lucifer asked from his spot on the couch.

Adam rolled his eyes. "Out. Later." He stomped out the front door. "Everything okay with you and whiskers?"

Angel snorted, "I could ask you the same thing about his majesty."

Adam looked away scowling. "Fair enough."

"I'm too sober for this shit, let's get plastered."

Adam and Angel went to a popular club in Hell, where they did shots and drank so much their blood was more alcohol than ichor by midnight.

"Can you believe he said that he wanted to slow shit down? Like shit baby if we go any slower we'll turn into fucking snails! We haven't even fucked yet." Angel drunkenly ranted as he downed another shot.

Adam hummed, taking his own. "At least you don't have everyone making fucking jabs at you about being the King's fucking boy toy. Saying that you're just a royal cock sleeve til his cunt wife comes home."

Angel frowned. "Okay you win. That sounds fucking awful. Who the fuck said that? I'll fuck them up for you!"

Adam laughed. "It's mostly that Bambi motherfucker but he doesn't know shit! What Luci and I have is real!...... I hope." He looked down sadly at the table they were drinking at. Adam felt his lip quiver.

"You really love him, don't you?"

"Of course I do! I always have, I don't really believe in all that soulmate bullshit but if I did, I'm pretty sure he'd be mine...... Why else would it hurt this bad? All I ever wanted was for him to love me." Get a few drinks into Adam and he becomes super honest. "I never forgot him. How could I? I tried so fucking hard to hate him Angel, but I can't, not really."

"Well, if he can't wake up and smell the fucking coffee and see how great you are then it's his loss bud. Someone will see it." Angel tried, it was hard to be comforting while half snapped. Sure, him and Husk had issues but they were any sized compared to Adam and Lucifer's drama. Dating a King comes with King sized drama, who knew. "I thought you guys were dating."

"Who fucking knows. Fucker sends so many mixed signals."

"Let's forget about all this shit for now and just have a good time, yeah? We need it." Angel said handing him another shot.

Adam downed it in one go. "Fuck yeah."

By the time they got home to the hotel, it was only Lucifer and Husk still waiting up in the lobby for their boyfriends. Adam and Angel burst through the door laughing and joking.

Adam plopped down on the couch next to Lucifer and Angel was taken to bed by Husk who wished he had breath mints for his baby.

Adam looked at the king. "Heyyyyy.~" He leaned over and poked Lucifer on the cheek. "How you doing?"

"You're fucking drunk as hell."

"Nah uh, you're drunk and short." Adam burst into a fit of laughter at his own joke and Lucifer rolled his eyes playfully.

"Yup, very drunk. Can you even walk?" Lucifer asked as he moved to stand in front of Adam.

Adam picked up his leg and looked down at his foot. He gasped loudly. "Oh my god! I have no toes!" Lucifer had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. Apparently drunk Adam forgot he had hooves.

"Those have been there the whole time, Adam."

"And you weren't gonna fucking tell me? Rude." Adam pouted and crossed his arms. He whined when Lucifer picked him up bridal style and held him close. "Hey!"

"Shhh, let's get you to bed." Lucifer thought about placing Adam in his own room, but decided to take him to his instead. Really, he was there so much they might as well just share the damn room.

Adam had taken to playing with Lucifer's bow tie and looking intently at the king. He felt his heart flutter, he loved Luci so much. He wrapped his arms more securely around Lucifer's neck and placed a kiss on his cheek before nuzzling his face into the king's neck breathing in his smell. Brimstone and something more earthy Adam couldn't place.

This surprised Lucifer, Adam wasn't one for gushy feelings or showing of affection. But he'll take what he can get.

Lucifer sat Adam down on the bed and helped him under the covers. Once he was settled, Lucifer got in on the other side. He watched Adam lay there, looking all around until his eyes landed on Lucifer. "Why don't you love me?"

Lucifers eyes went wide. "What are you talking about? I do love you."

Adam sniffed and looked away sadly. "That's not what I hear..."

Lucifer would really rather have this conversation with a sober Adam. "Look, I don't know what people are saying but listen to me when I say this. I love you, Adam. You mean the fucking world to me." He placed his hand on Adams cheek.

"Yeah?" Adam gave him a teary smile.

"Yes." Lucifer kissed him sweetly, he tasted like tequila. "Get some sleep, dove." Adam held out his arms and Lucifer chuckled. Drunk Adam was also very clingy. "Come here, you."

Adam snuggled against Lucifer's chest and sighed happily, he was even happier when he felt a hand in his hair messaging it gently.

Lucifer would have to be sure to show Adam how much he means to him. When he was sober of course.

#adamsapple #hazbin hotel adam #lucifer x adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #platonic holydust #ask

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scoops-aboy86 · 3 months

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(Continued from this, in which Eddie tried to cast a love spell to snag Steve Harrington but it didn’t go right and just made Steve inexplicably popular.)

Anyway, once Steve starts that Scoops Ahoy job, any hopes of retaining his jock figure are toast.

Whenever Eddie visits, Steve sets him up in a booth with a guess-the-mystery flavor milkshake. Every once in a while Steve will swing by during table wiping duties (which his cranky coworker Robin is more than happy to let him take more often than not) and ask what his guess is, and Eddie being Eddie gives the most off the wall answers he can think of. To which Steve will tilt his head, take a sip of the milkshake himself as if to refresh his memory, set it down while smacking his lips thoughtfully (Eddie’s favorite part, he always zeros in on it), and say, “Nope, better luck next guess.” Needless to say, he ends up drinking most of the milkshake, especially since Eddie is a slow drinker and doesn’t like it as much once it’s all melted. (Steve, who has developed quite the sweet tooth, thinks it’s endearing when Eddie insists that ice cream should be chewed.)

Employees can get up to one complimentary item every shift, so Steve also eats at least one full serving of ice cream a day.

There’s a toping limit on that deal, but what management seems to have failed to take into account is that the workers aren’t terribly well supervised in the absence of paying customers. Both Steve and Robin each have their own “spilled toppings” cup under the front counter, although the latter refills his more frequently and sometimes pours chocolate sauce on top before eating it all in one sitting with a spoon.

Meanwhile, Steve. Is. Loving this. He understands Eddie’s cafeteria table ramblings more, he thinks, now that he’s eating like this after years conforming and shoehorning his appetite into an athlete’s diet.

Also, like… Eddie is totally different from any friend can remember ever having before. Thinking back to their earliest interactions, he doesn’t think Eddie even wanted anything to do with him at first, and doesn’t seem to want anything from him now besides company, even if it’s just in the form of Eddie writing his campaigns in the Scoops parlor while Steve’s working. For another, Eddie’s eyes sometimes follow him the way all the high school girls’ used to, only instead of feeling on the spot or nervous Steve is just… comfortable with it. He’d never been able to figure out why he got all that attention in high school because it had started before he’d even done anything, but with Eddie every step towards becoming friends had been a conscious struggle.

So if Steve starts leaning into whatever gets Eddie’s eyes on him like that, is that really so big a deal? He’s always liked attention, so sue him—and when he ends up realizing that it happens whenever he’s being most himself, well. He’s never felt like anyone really liked him for him anymore, not even Nancy since ‘bullshit’ and ‘tell me you love me.’ The fact that Eddie does drives him wild.

And Steve likes to eat. He feels more grounded in this bigger version of himself. Eddie’s always watching his mouth, his hands, his fingers (especially when he’s licking drips of ice cream off them)—so Steve happily keeps indulging however he feels like.

One day Steve is wiping down tables and bends down a little too far to grab some fallen napkins off the floor. He feels more than hears the fabric of his blue uniform shorts rip, and all but leaps into the booth Eddie is haunting before anyone else sees, sits close to him because he likes the proximity. One glance is enough to know that Eddie definitely saw, his big Bambi eyes open wide, eyebrows anll the way up his forehead… and hair pulled across his face in an attempt to hide flushed cheeks, caught in the act of staring at Steve’s ass.

That’s what gives Steve the confidence to lean in a little bit and flirt, ask to borrow Eddie’s jacket (no one else in this town would wear leather in summer) so he can get back behind the counter and change. Eddie hands it over immediately, and flushes even harder when Steve grins and says, “My hero.”

It doesn’t have to mean anything, but he wants it to.

Part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11

#love spell no go au #scoops words #chubby steve harrington #yeah i thought about it some more #i like my ice cream with some cronch to it don’t @ me #(actually that would be hysterical somebody do that)#(slap fight over dessert textures in the comments)#(bring it on lol)#scoops steve

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stat1cdust · 1 year

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Your pov...

I was in a casino with my brother, Husk as he gambled with some other random demon. He was about to win when all of the sudden he started fading away.

No literally- he was legit disappearing.

"What the fuck-" I said before he was completely gone.

I panicked for a few minutes and ran out into the streets of hell looking for where ever the fuck he might be. I suddenly got a text. It was from my brother

'Hey I'm at the Happy hotel,some asshole I used to work for volunteered me to be a bartender. The adress is (insert random adress) hurry and be careful.'

I sigh and start heading to the adress.

I arrive at the hotel. I looked up to see the sign 'Happy hotel' at the top.

"Huh not really fitting for hell but oh we-"

Just as I was about to finish that thought I heard something loud behind me. I look up to see a huge flying thing- i don't know what to call it- looks like a ship.

Before I could inspect it closer I felt myself being picked by a giant metal arm. It brought me to the main window where I was met with a snake demon dressed in victorian attire.

"And who are you?!" He asked in an annoying high pitched voice. Sounds like a proper and prim 12 year old boy going through puberty-

Just as I was about to answer I heard a familiar voice behind me

"LET GO OF MY SISTER YOU ASSHOLE"

he threw a beer bottle towards the ship. I look behind me to see my brother Husk and what I assume to be his new co-workers. Before I could register what just happened I hear the snake say

"As~ you wish~" before dropping me.

Soooo you know the phrase cats always land on their feet? Yeah that's bullshit. I panicked and braced for impact but instead of feeling my bones break from hitting the concrete floor I heard a slight 'oof' as I landed in someones arms.(some cheesy y/n moments for yall)

I look up to see a deer demon with a huge smile looking down at me surprised.

"Are you alright dear?" I blushed noticing he was still holding me bridal style.

"Um... yeah- I guess- thanks for catching me by the way!" I smiled up at him

"It was no problem at all!"

His grin grew wider as we kinda just stood there awkwardly not knowing what to do.

"AHEM" we turn to see Husk annoyed at this scene

"If ya would put my fucking sister down and deal with the giant fucking ship in the sky that would be appreciated"

"Why of course my dear husker! Thank you for reminding me!"

He didn't put me down though as to piss off my brother but he did take care of the snake dude. I watched as his smile grew wide and his eyes became distorted. Symbols were floating around him as he was surrounded in static. I looked back at the ship and saw it being engulfed in black tentacles. I bet you can already figure out where my mind went when I saw that-

Finally the ship exploded and the deer demons magic calmed down. I looked up at him with a 'where tf did that come from' face as he just looked down at me with a grin.

I felt myself being snatched from his grasp and put down.

"Hands off my sister bambi reject"

Husk glares at him

"My apologies dear, didn't know Husker here was so protective! I don't believe we've met before. Im Alastor and you are?"

"Oh I'm y/n! Sorry for my brother he's just a grumpy cat" I let out a little laugh as I look to see my brother on the edge of murder.

"No need to apologize for others actions dear! Anyways, who wants some jambalaya!" He casually throws his arm around my shoulder walking me into the hotel as the others followed behind us.

Just before we head inside I see the 'happy hotel' sign turn into 'hazbin hotel'

Huh- more fitting to be honest.

Alastor opened to door letting me in first as well as holding the door open for the others.

I look around the lobby observing my surroundings.

"Would anyone like to help me in the kitchen?" Alastor asked and received excuses from the others. I'm not sure why but they all seemed to want to avoid him and I felt bad so I volunteered.

"Like hell I'm gonna let you be alone with this freak" Husk scolded pulling me away from Alastor.

"Then just come with us dumbass- either way I'm going."

Husk groaned as Alastor just smiled walking me and my brother to the kitchen.

We started working as soon as we got there. I got the ingredients for Alastor, cut them how he asked me to, while Alastor did the rest. My brother however just sat there angrily glaring at Alastor the whole time.

I saw Alastor become more and more uncomfortable as he felt Husk's stare in the back of his head. He leaned towards me whispering

"Is he always like this dear?"

I giggled a bit and joked

"Not really- you must have done something bad I guess"

He simply chuckled

"You haven't been in hell for long have you?"

"Not really, why?"

"To put it simply I'm not the purest soul"

"Well I kinda guessed so with the power I saw you use earlier- I can see why my brother is so against you but to be honest- its hell. What can you expect? And I trust you not to hurt me. I feel like you would've already done it if you really wanted to."

He gave me a small genuine smile as we both went back to work. With Husk still glaring of course.

You finished making dinner and ate with the rest of the hotel. You were introduced to everyone, husk telling you who to be wary of and asking Charlie to give you a room there so he could make sure you were ok. You went to bed but woke up unable to sleep

Your pov...

Once again unable to sleep. How fun... I check the time to see it was 1:30AM. I sigh and walk out of my room to walk around the hotel hoping that it would wear me out at some point.

Eventually I came to the library. I saw a light from the cracks of the door and I heard soft music from a radio. Being curious I slowly opened up the door peeking in

"Anyone in here?"

I waited for a response

"Y/n is that you dear?"

I hear a familiar static filled voice call out. I walk in and closed the door behind me

"Yeah it's me, why are you up this late?"

"Well I could ask you the same thing"

Alastor let out a small tired chuckle. I noticed he was holding a book.

"I couldn't sleep so I decided to explore the place now what about you?"

"Its nothing for you to worry about, why don't you join me? Seeing as your brother isn't here to glare at me the whole time."

He patted the spot next to him on the couch he was sitting at. I sat next to him. Even though he was trying to hide his eyes I could still see how tired they looked.

I moved my hand up to his face and gently tilted his head so I could see his eyes. I felt him flinch a bit, still holding that smile of course.

"Al you need to sleep you look like you're about to collapse" my voice was laced with worry.

He only looked down at his book again and shook his head. I sigh and get up making him think I was going back to my room. To his surprise I went to a shelf,found and interesting book,and sat back down.

"What are you doing?" He gave me a confused look

"Well you asked me to join you. And I'm sure it gets lonely staying up all night so imma stay up with you!" I smiled at him and he just let out a small chuckle as we both went back to reading.

"You are quite the opposite of your brother dear. Your soul is almost too pure for hell!" Alastor exclaimed

"Yeah- I get that a lot but everyone is here for a reason. Deserved or not a sin is a sin. I'm not an asshole unless I need to be ya know? I try to be as positive as I can be because you won't find it often down here."

"Do you mind sharing what your sin was darling?"

"Maybe one day however I'm not really comfortable telling anybody yet"

"That's alright! Just curious! Do you wanna stay up and read for little bit more before heading back to bed?"

"Sure! Im actually into this book!"

After a while of both of us reading in comfortable silence I felt my eyes closing as my body gave into exhaustion.

7:30AM..(6 hours later)...

I woke up... in my bed- how did I get here? Did Alastor carry me or something? I hope he finally got some sleep he looked like he hasn't slept in days.

As I was about to get up I see husk in the doorway looking like an angry dad who caught their child trying to sneak out.

"Oh hey what are you doing here bro?"

"Dont you BrO me- where the hell were you last night?! I went to get something I forgot in here and to my fucking surprise you weren't in your room!"

Well shit- I gotta think of something- uhhhhhhhhhh

"Eheh sorry- I couldn't sleep and I wanted to explore the hotel so I can get to know it better"

"Next time just take sleeping pills or something- I thought something happened when I couldn't find your dumbass"

"I was perfectly safe no need to worry"

"We are literally in hell of course theres a reason to worry"

"Yeah yeah whatever you say now get outta my room"

Husk rolled his eyes and left closing the door behind him. I got up and got ready for the day. I would be helping with some things around the hotel. Maybe I can ask Alastor how I got back into my room last night and if he got any sleep himself.

The whole day went by normally except for one thing. Every time you tried to talk to Alastor your brother, Husk would immediately find a way to get him away from you. No matter where you were or how hard you tried to sneak Husk would always prevent you from talking to him. Until....

After a long day of work and being dragged away from Alastor I sat down across from my brother at the bar he was managing. I was practically sulking. I was tired and I wanted to talk to Al without being scolded.

I suddenly felt something appear in my pockets and as soon as husk turned away I looked around and made eye contact with Alastor who was giving me a knowing look.

Not wanting to get caught with the note I excused myself to the restroom.

I leaned against the bathroom wall as I reached into my pocket pulling out a small peice of paper that read.

'My dearest, y/n

Our last meeting was very pleasant without your brother there to drag you around! I wish to do it again so please wait until your brother has gone off to bed and meet me in the library so we may speak without any interruptions.

Sincerely, Alastor'

I smiled and put the note back in my pocket as I walked back to the bar. I turned to see Alastor once again. Our eyes met as I nodded to signal I accepted his invitation.

"What the fuck was that about" husk asked noticing the nod

"Oh it was nothing to worry about"

He just nodded and went back to cleaning out glasses.

Hours later(12AM)

I waited and waited til eventually I heard husk yawn and bid me good night before going off to bed asking me when I plan on going too

"Soon probably go get some rest!"

He nodded and went. I waited a few seconds before rushing to the library hoping Alastor wasn't waiting too long.

I stopped infront of the door seeing the light through the cracks just as they were the first time. I pushed open the door carefully as to not startle him.

I looked in and there he was,on the couch, and facing away from me.

I mean- come on- who wasn't gonna take the opportunity.

I smirked and started sneaking up on him planning to scare him a lil or atleast surprise him. Just as I got close.

SNAP!

His neck twisted in an unnatural way to face me, eyes now distorted, and his grin widened.

"AH WHAT THE FU-"

I was cut off by him slapping a hand against my mouth.

"Quiet dear you might wake your brother"

I nodded still slightly startled

"Now calm down dear what did you expect! You startled a demon after all!" He chuckled leading me to the couch to sit next to him.

And for hours we just talked and talked about everything and anything. Trying to keep quiet while doing so but miserably failing as our laughter was too much to hold. Thank god my brother goes into a deep sleep when he's drunk. Turns out he did carry me to my room but he teleported to make it easier. I thanked him of course and told him he didn't have to.

"Why of course I did my dear! What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't!"

Offering that never-ending smile of his. The night of conversation and laughter continued. Just as we were about to call it a night Alastor stopped me.

"I know this may be a strange request- but can we do this every night? I fear with your brother around I will never get to talk to you and you're quite pleasant company to be around. These nights get lonely when sleep isn't an option"

I smiled at him. Of course I was going to say yes. Hes actually quite fun to be around!

"Of course Al! Same time and place?"

He nodded as we bid each other good night and went back to our rooms. Maybe these sleepless nights won't be so hard to go through anymore.

Soon weeks passed by. Each day you and Alastor ignoring each other for the sake of your brother while each night you and Alastor only grew closer and closer. Sharing stories,jokes,and laughs. Eventually after 3 months of this routine you started to feel something for the radio demon. A feeling you dreaded but enjoyed at the same time. Love... you had fallen in love with one of the most powerful demons in hell. The one guy who has only been known to show one emotion. You were absolutely convinced he didn't feel the same. While you were worrying about your feelings you neglected to notice Husk becoming suspicious of your absence at night.

Husk will sometimes check on you at night due to paranoia. For the past 3 months he hasn't seen you in your room til 3AM or 4AM. So he decided to do something about it...

Husk's pov...

"Im goin to bed... you gonna go soon?" I looked at my sister who was scrolling through her phone at the other side of the bar

"Probably in a little bit I'm not that tired right now " I nodded and went to "bed". In reality I just hid some where awaiting the opportunity to follow her to wherever the hell she's been going at night.

I waited a couple minutes it was now 12AM. I watched as she got up and instead of going up the stairs leading to the rooms she went to another set of stairs leading up to storage rooms and the library. 'What the fuck-' I thought,confused on why the hell she would be going up there.

I snuck behind her easily following her without getting caught. Still hidden, I watched her stop at the library door,open it,step in, then close the door.

'Oh thank satan shes just a fucking nerd'

My thought was immediately followed by an annoying voice muffled through the door.

"There you are dear! I've been waiting for you- is your brother in bed?"

I heard her giggle

"Probably passed out from drinking as always"

My eyes widened as I stood there in shock. Have they been secretly meeting behind my fucking back this whole damn time?!

I peeked through the crack and watched them as they talked about random shit. I was just gonna watch over her just in case and talk to her tomorrow about it.

I zoned out when I saw Alastor get up suddenly, his favorite song on the radio, as he pulled y/n up to dance with him.

Your pov...

I laughed as Alastor pulled me up to dance with him. One of his hands on my waist and the other holding my hand as he spinned me around.

I felt the very obvious blush on my face. I felt my heart racing at his touch. Our dancing slowed down as we looked into each others eyes. I felt his hand leave mine as it traveled to my cheek, cupping my face, and me gladly leaning into his touch.

I felt my heart go even faster as I saw Alastor start to lean in. I stood there for a second in shock as his lips met mine. Eventually I leaned into the kiss, my arms thrown around his neck while his were wrapped around my waist.

We didn't get too into the kiss before we heard the door burst open. We both jumped and pulled away from each other as we looked to the door to see my brother, pissed as can be.

Out of all the people to walk in on us it was my brother. At the worst time too- I mentally groan prepared for an argument.

I felt Husk grab my arm and drag me out the library. Well he tried to atleast before Alastor grabbed me away from him and gave a death glare.

"Relax freak I'm just gonna talk to her. I'll deal with you later" Husk gave the same glare back as I walked over to Husk so we could talk alone.

We walked into another room as I stood there awkwardly waiting for my brother to say something.

"Ok first of all what the hell is goin on between you two and when did it start"

I looked down and answered him

"We started meeting up every night 3 months ago and until today we were nothing more than friends! I didn't know he had feelings towards me til a couple minutes ago! I would've told you if the relationship escalated any further."

"Why did you keep your friendship secret then?"

At that moment my fact immediately went -_-

"Are u serious? Everytime I tried to talk to him you would drag me away"

"Well I had a reason for that! That asshole is the most untrustworthy demon to ever exist! He could've erased you and I wasn't gonna give him the chance."

He sighed before continuing

"Look kid... you're old enough to form your own relationship with whoever the fuck you want. Alastor is a whole other story and while I wanna tear his twizzler looking ass to shreads I can tell you love him. Thats rare to find down here so as long as he doesn't harm you in any way I will tolerate his existence and let you two be together."

I was so happy I was starting to tear up a little bit

"Really????"

"Yeah even when I tried to keep you apart your stubborn ass still found a way around me so no use in trying it anymore"

I immediately tackled my brother into a hug feeling him hug back

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou!"

I was so excited. I immediately ran back to the library where Alastor was pacing back and forth looking nervous.

I literally jumped on to him and hugged him.

He seemed startled before I said

"Oksohusksaidthathewilltolerateyouaslongasyoudonthurtmeinanywayisntthatgreat?!"

"Calm down dear! I couldn't even understand what you said!" He said chuckling as he wrapped his arms around my waist.

Before I could repeat Husk came in and dragged Alastor away into another room.

I just stood confused and waited.

Some time later Alastor came rushing in and immediately pulled me into a hug. Ironically I have never seen him so happy before. How big his smile can get always amazes me.

"Let me guess he gave you the talk about how we can be together but if you hurt me he will kill you again?"

He nodded still smiling. He looked like a puppy right now.

"So dear I've been meaning to ask you this for a while now"

He pulled away from the hug and held both of my hands.

"You make me feel something I've never felt before. I'm not quite experienced with love but I would like to learn with you by my side."

I look over to see my brother in the doorway. He gives a small smile and a nod before walking away.

I quickly accept his confession. And after that we spent the night cuddling eventually falling asleep on the couch still holding onto each other.

Bonus

Everyone in the hotel was awake by now. Except for Husk who was already passed out at the bar. Everyone was curious because usually you two are up before them so naturally they went looking for you.

They checked both your rooms and nothing. You two were missing.

Everyone frantically searched for you two until eventually they found you. In the library still holding on tight to the all powerful radio demon who was also asleep and holding you close.

Charlie was fan girling with Nifty over how cute this is

Vaggie was confused as fuck saying

"They dont even talk to each other how the hell-"

Angel found it cute but he was a bit jealous you got his attention before him. He wasn't used to the lack of attention from men

"Woww I throw my best pick up lines and he chooses a gal he doesn't even talk to! What the fuck!"

He throws his arms up with a wtf face

Charlie quickly shushed him and pulls everyone out of the room leaving you and your new lover to sleep in peace.

(I wrote this fic 3 years ago 😭)

#hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #fanfic #alastor #husker hazbin hotel

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thesmpisonfire · 9 months

Note

hey! spanish speaker here, i'm curious about the word viado. it's a slur in portuguese right? bc it kind of sounds like "desviado" in spanish, which would be a really rude way of calling a gay person, sort of like a religious person would say "you strayed from the path of G od" or some bullshit like that. also when i use a translator it literally translates to the f slur 😭

Okay so!! Quick lesson about Brazilian Portuguese specifically!!

We don't have the same concept of slur as the one based on american concept. A bunch of words that would translate to faggot in a translator, such as viado, bicha, frango (this one also translates to 'chicken') are just other words for gay. And, yeah, if used with ill intent, they have offensive significance, but so is gay if used the same way. So, to the Brazilian queer population, they're just synonyms and not slurs

Now, to the origin of why viado is also used to gay people, its literary because of the animal, deer (veado). Prancing like a deer, yk? Deers are just that flamboyant to be the gay animal ig. Fun fact! Calling someone Bambi is also calling them gay!!

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definitelynottony · 1 month

Note

Could you do starkercest? But fem!peter? 🥺 pls?

Her there nonny. Fem!Peter isn't something I've done before, but I gave it a shot because you asked so nicely~

TW: Female Peter, incest (Daddy x daughter)

Tony thought he's been a good father. He's spoiled his baby girl rotten over the years, sure, but she's perfect. And when she gives him those big bambi eyes, like hell he'd ever say no to her. Except when it comes to boys.

"Daddy! Everyone else has a date, why can't I? There was at least three guys that already asked me to the dance!"

"Because, princess, you're not old enough to date yet." That has been Tony's excuse for the last four years. It's even getting old to his own ears.

"That's bullshit and you know it! I'm seventeen, Dad! Most of my class have been dating since they were twelve!"

"I'm sorry you're going to school with a bunch of heathens, but i'm raising my little girl with some class. You can date when I'm dead!"

"But that'll take forever!!!"

"Brat." Tony rolled his eyes at her.

"Meanie!" Parker pouted out to her Dad. Tony can't stand that.

"Come on, tesoro. Don't be like that. Daddy bought you that pretty dress you wanted, bought you all new makeup, and you're going to go get your hair done. Why do you need a boy bringing you down when you're going to be the bell of the ball?"

Parker's eyes started to shine with tears. She was good... too damn good. She knows how to play her Dad's heartstrings. Crying, without fail, always got her what she wanted. She learned that by age five. Tony never had the heart to say no.

"Parker Maria Stark. Do not cry over a boy. I taught you better than that."

"Who am I going to slow dance with, Daddy? I'll look like a loser... everyone already thinks I'm weird."

Tony pulled his little girl into a tight hug. "No one thinks that, baby. You're the prettiest girl in that whole school."

"You have to say that! You're my dad."

"I'm also a man. I know what I'm talking about."

Parker's face flushed at that comment. She turned away and pouted, trying to hide her face. Tony saw it, though. Felt it. How his little girl clenched her thighs... he's just a man. God. A lonely man with a gorgeous seventeen year old daughter. These intrusive thoughts aren't the first time they came to the old man.

Honestly, they've been happening more and more. Even more sinful after Tony saw what his little girl bought herself with her Daddy's credit card. Tony had to dig a bit. Had to threaten the company with the fact that they sold over a five hundred dollars worth of products to a minor. But it was worth it. To see all the lingerie that now sits in his little girls dresser. The dildos and vibrators she's hiding under her bed.

Yeah. There's no way he's letting his little girl with an awakening sexual appetite go off with a teen boy. Tony was a teen boy at one point. He knows how they are. What they want. The only thing they want. The joke is that thing doesn't go away with age. When he's holding his little girl like this, thinking about what she might be thinking about... okay. He should probably let go now.

"Daddy?" Parker asks in a shy voice as her Dad let go of her and stepped back.

"Yes, baby girl?"

"Why don't you want me to have a boyfriend? You know, statistically, kids with strict rules tend to do worse things when they're legal..."

"Are you threatening me, princess?" Tony's face gets serious. Eyes small in a glare, eyebrow cocked.

"All I'm saying is if I don't get to date boys my own age now, maybe I'll end up dating an older man next year when I go off to college." She shrugs.

"Excuse me? You will do no such thing. You're my child, you'll follow my rules."

"No! If I want to go date a forty year old when I turn eighteen in a few months, I will! And you can't stop me!"

Tony's never felt this possessive before. He sees red when he grabs his girl by the wrist and pulls her in against him. When he growls out, "if you're so desperate for a man to fuck you, sweetheart, let Daddy show you exactly what you're asking for."

He might not win "father of the year award," especially after this. But he made his little girl scream and pass out after her third orgasm and you know, that's enough for him.

#reply #starker #fem!peter #fem!peter x tony #mywritings

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bambirex · 9 months

Text

Currently trying to figure out which weirdly translated line in the Hungarian subtitles for the Witcher season 3 was the best

1. Dijkstra calling Radovid "Prince Ejaculation"

2. Valdo Marx calling Jaskier "chubby" on the boat

3. Radovid telling Vizimir that he's thriving inside Jaskier

4. Yennefer saying "don't eat like an animal" instead of "underfed ghoul" to Geralt on the ball

#i just remembered one of these and cackled so loud #sometimes our translations can be utterly fucked up but i think these are actually pretty funny #i unfortunately can't remember more but i'm pretty sure there's more #the witcher #the witcher season 3 #bambi says some bullshit

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shieldofiron · 1 year

Note

Back with burn scars Billy! Maybe because of his limited mobility, he can’t reach top shelves, up high things and such.

Neil sends Billy out grocery shopping on day- some bullshit abusive asshole stuff about Billy needing to pull his weight or something- and he can’t reach some cereal that Neil specifically asked for.

Just as Billy is about to give up, Steve comes in and grabs it, a true night in shinning armor 🥰

The last one, if you missed it

He wouldn't put it past his dad to have picked this cereal specifically because it was on the top shelf. He stares up at it, brow furrowed, biting his lip as he strains but...

He presses forward just a centimeter, and pain shoots up his arm. He pulls back, and the pain remains, lingering along his ribs and upper back, fizzling and popping like carbonation.

He didn't even get his hand much past his eyeline, and he's sweating like he just ran a mile.

Can't do that either.

"Fuck..." Billly mutters, trying to figure how mad his dad will actually be if he doesn't bring it home.

It would be a whole lot easier if no one could see him. Well it wouldn't be physically easier, but he would feel a little less like an animal in a zoo.

"Hey!"

Billy turns, already rolling his eyes because he recognizes that voice. Of course he does.

It's Harrington, Christmas sweater making his brown eyes look golden and sticky sweet in the shitty florescent lights of the grocery store.

Billy probably looks like.... oh, he doesn't want to think about that.

"Alright, Harrington?"

"Yeah just," Harrington raises his basket, "Getting some cereal."

Billy nods, then turns back to his task. He can kind of see Harrington linger out of the corner of his eyes. He's been like this, since the whole... fucking horrible Starcourt thing. Hanging around. Hanging around Billy's hospital bed, and around the house when Harrington dropped Max off. Just... hanging around.

Neil fucking loved Harrington. Responsible. Trustworthy. Masculine. Able to raise his hand over his head too. Everything Billy wasn't.

Billy strains, fighting for every inch. He's not going to let fucking Harrington see him like this. He trembles as his hand goes past his eyeline... it hurts so much. He pushes himself through it.

"You like corn pops too?" Harrington reaches up like it's nothing, and plucks the box off the shelf.

Billy bites down on a curse, "Yeah. I guess."

"These are my favorite," Harrington shrugs, "Sweet but not too sweet, ya know?"

Billy drops his hand to his side, trying not to sigh in relief because it will ruin his glare.

He tightens his jaw while he meets Harrington's stupid perfect face.

"Sure," Billy growls.

Harrington drops them in Billy's basket, "Maybe we could... share some, sometime?"

"What?" Billy wrinkles his nose.

Harrington shrugs, cocking his head to one side in that new way he's been doing, chin tipped forward to the right, watching Billy with those bambi brown eyes.

Billy forgets that he was upset. He forgets that he's in the grocery store, sweating under his zip up hoodie, covered in scars, shuffling his feet on linoleum. For a moment, looking at Steve Harrington he's somewhere else. Somewhere golden brown and fizzy and creamy and wonderful, like he's floating on top of a root beer float.

"Maybe you could come over to my place, and we could have cereal together," Harrington's eyes flicker across Billy's face.

"Why?" Billy croaks, feeling like he can't breathe.

Harrington licks his lower lip, "You know, if we're hungry. After. We can have cereal. For breakfast."

Billy doesn't say anything. He doesn't even think anything but root beer float dreams and pink lips.

Harrington shrugs, "Think about it, will you?"

Billy nods before he realizes he's doing it. He doesn't... is Harrington saying what he thinks he is?

Harrington smiles though, head tipping down again so that his hair falls over his eyes, "See you around."

It's only until after Harrington's gone, and the smog of confusion and root beer fizzling lust clears... Billy looks down at his basket and curses Harrington out for thirty seconds.

---

Pancakes & Corn Pops, these boys love their treats @hickory-smoked-ass maybe I'm writing hungry lol

#harringrove #harringrove fic #harringrove ficlet #asks #billy x steve #billy hargrove #steve x billy #cutie boys #text post

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mydarllinglover · 10 months

Text

Alone || Making Friends

The time had come when the girls could eat on their own, they were ten months old, twelve weeks since Carols visit, and her words hung over the household, it got Natalia thinking about someone else, as well.

Natalia woke up early one frosty morning, the rest of the house was asleep, including Daryl.

She slowly and silently got out of the bed, making sure her missing presence wouldn't wake him up.

Natalia dressed up warm, her eyes stayed on the sleeping body, he was a light sleeper, she only had one shot.

Daryl, haven't done a runner just yet, had to take care of something, will be back later, take care of my girls. You know why I didn't tell you, don't bother, you wouldn't of even let me leave the walls if I asked , you'll forgive me, it's why I'm coming back when it's dark ;), love Nat. She scribbled on a note, leaving it on her pillow.

She then left the bedroom, sneaking into Evie's.

"Mom?" Evie whispered, rolling over and half opening her eyes.

"Hey, sweet girl." Natalia smiled at her, brushing her hair out of her sleepy face. "I'm gonna pop out for a lil bit, I'm gonna be back after dinner, wanted to say bye before I went."

"Where are you going?" She rubbed her eyes. "I'll go with you."

"No, it's okay, I just gotta go see an old friend, it's still cold out, don't wanna get you sick before your tenth birthday, 'Sides, need ya to help out Dad today, gonna be the first time he's gotta look after the girls on his own, and he don't know yet."

"And he's gonna need all the help he can get."

"Yeah, he does." Natalia laughed. "Love you, kid." She kissed her head.

"Love you, Mom." She kissed her head back.

"Maybe visit Aaron, see what he's up to today."

"Yeah, good idea." Evie nodded.

"Alright, go back to bed." She tucked the girl in extra tight, before leaving her room, going in the last one.

Daisy and Bambi were already stood up, clinging onto the bars of the crib as they bounced on the mattress, they'd have to get them a bigger, proper bed in the next few months.

"Mama." Daisy cooed.

"Mama, Mama." Bambi repeated, sucking on her finger.

"Hi, babies." Natalia beamed, keeping her voice low as she rushed towards the crib, wrapping her arms around her daughters. "Hi, hey."

"Hi Mama." Daisy copied, waving her hand.

"Hi." Bambi babbled.

"Hey." The cuteness overload was enough to make her want to stay home instead, her nor Daryl had left the twins alone since the day they were born, the furthest apart was a few hours from their bedrooms. "Mommy's gotta go out, but I'll be back soon, can you say bye-bye? Bye-bye."

"Bye-bye, Momma." Bambi rubbed her face as she placed her tiny hand on Natalia's cheek.

"Yeah? Daisy-Waisy, bye-bye?" Natalia asked, stroking Bambi's curls.

"Bye Momma." Daisy added, laying her head on Natalia, her arms around her.

"I love you girls, so, so much." She weeped, smiling as she hugged them. "Be good for Daddy and Evie. Can I have a kiss?"

Both girls took in turn to kiss their mom before she eventually had to leave.

"Where are you heading off to?"

Natalia was attempting to sneak out the gates without being stopped, but Laura, who was on watch, had other plans.

"Just getting some fresh air." Natalia answered, shielding her eyes from the rising sun.

"Bullshit. 'Fess up right now or I'm getting Daryl." Laura threatened.

"You know I'm not your captive anymore, right? Haven't been for a long time. Daryl, my husband, knows what I'm doing, no need to go running off and snitching, I'm a grown woman."

"Liar, Dixon."

"Yeah, well, I'll be back later, remind him one of us has to stay here when he comes looking."

"Nat..." Laura felt uneasy lying to the man, the very overprotective scary man, she respected him a lot, and Laura could handle her shit, but, there was a reason she surrendered so easily on that hill, the both of them could be a terrifying threat, especially with twin babies fucking up their schedules. "You sure you're ready?"

"Laura, mind your business and do your job." Natalia finalised, leaving Alexandra with nothing but her weapons and a set of photographs.

She trekked through the woods for a couple of hours, trying to remember the vague route from so long ago, so far only taking out a handful of walkers.

"You ain't pregnant again, so what the hell are you doing back on my land?" That familiar voice floated through the air.

Natalia spun on her heel, staring down the barrel of the shotgun that was aimed between her eyes.

"Looking for you, obviously." Natalia automatically raised her hands above her head in surrender.

"Why?" Leah asked.

Natalia thought on it for a moment, eventually forming an adequate statement that hopefully let her leave the woods alive in the next few hours.

"Wanted to give you an update, on the girls, all three of them."

"What makes you think I care?" She slowly began lowering the gun.

"Nothing, but you did help me, you saved our lives, something's gotta give in that cold black heart of yours."

"Watch it, pipsqueak."

"Still don't scare me, G.I. Jane."

"The gun should." She raised it again.

"Nah, being shot ain't that bad, long as it's not fatal, I'll get through it." Natalia shrugged.

"Weird little thing." Leah muttered, unimpressed by her casualness, lowering the gun once more.

"So, you gonna be rude and make us chit chat outside, or you gonna invite me into your home, again?"

Leah scoffed, but turned her back, walking through the woods, Natalia followed.

"You find your kid?" Leah asked as they walked through the tree's, the cabin was close.

"Oh, yeah. She was back by the time I got there, I tend to overreact a lot when I'm stressed and under pressure."

"I gathered that." She clipped. "What even happened?"

Natalia thought about it for a second, wondering whether she wanted to share with the stranger, if it were safe to?

"She was taken." Natalia started, choosing her words carefully. "Her and all the children in our community, including my niece. Evie's the oldest out of all of them, and she protected them until my husband and my best friend could find them."

"That's tough." Leah sighed.

"Yeah, let's just say we're not exactly recruiting at the moment."

"Good."

Willow jogged towards them, sniffing Natalia who was quick to pet the dog.

"Hey!" She said, excitedly. "How are you?"

"Stop babying my dog." Leah told her.

"But she is a baby, you're just a precious lil baby, huh?"

Natalia looked up at the woman, who was staring at her, unimpressed, she wondered if her ponytail was too tight, why she seemed to be in a constant bad mood.

"Don't talk to her like that." Leah pressed.

"Sorry, I've been around nothing but babies and toddlers for months." Natalia stood up straight.

"Y'know, it took me weeks to scrub the couch clean." Leah admitted, when they walked into the wooden cabin.

"I brought pictures." Natalia waved the handful of photographs that Evie had been snapping throughout the months, ignoring her comment. "You wanna see them?"

Leah looked at her again, she was stiff and her face was blank, but she sat down on the couch next to the smaller woman, anyway.

Natalia smirked to herself, the strange scary woman was warming up to her.

She showed her the small stack of photo's, the first one was of the girls in their highchairs, Natalia's back was also in the corner of the picture, a spoon leading to Daisy's mouth, another hand was leading a spoon to Bambi's.

"These are the twins, obviously." Natalia said. "That's Dase, and that's Bam." She pointed.

"They're... indentical." She stated. "But not."

"I know, right." Natalia smiled at her. "So weird."

"Do they get theirs curls from the father?"

"Huh? Oh, no, the only thing that gives that man volume is the lack of a hairbrush, I used to have curly hair as a kid, before I discovered flat irons and grew it out."

"It' a risk having hair as long as yours." It was a reach, Natalia's hair wasn't much longer than the woman's, she just preferred to have it down.

"Isn't everything these days?" She shrugged, flipping to the next photo, Evie was reading the girls a story as they were all tucked up in Daryl and Natalia's bed.

"Is that Evie?"

"Yeah, she's nearly ten."

"She's pretty."

"She is, Evie's a great kid, I'm really glad she took an interest in us, her dad, her bio dad, said that me and Daryl were the only people she actually bothered to talk to, in the community, after we'd only arrived like a few days prior."

"So it was fate." Leah mused, but she seemed far away in her own head.

"I guess, yeah." Natalia had a soft smile on her face as she stared down at her lap, switching the photo's, the one of Daryl and the girls star gazing.

"That your husband?" Leah asked.

"Yep, that's my Daryl."

"Hm."

"What?" Natalia looked at the woman, who seemed to be fixated on the photo, making her want to switch to the next one.

"Nothing, just, uh, I wasn't expecting him to look like that."

"Uh huh..."

"No, not like in a bad way, just that... I don't know, I don't really know, she's got his eyes, but I can see they're the spitting image of you." Leah tried to steer the conversation, pointing at Bambi, Natalia took the bait.

"You think so?"

"Yeah, the older they're getting, the more they're starting to look like you."

"Here, the fabric you used to swaddle them out of here, turned them into blankets for the girls." The next picture was of the twins in their cribs, after waking up from a nap, both clinging onto the cloths in one arm, their bunnies in their clutches, their hair was in matted curls, they were about five months old, in the picture.

"Cute bunnies, you base each of them around that colour." Leah alluded their matching pyjamas to the colour of the teddy.

"Yeah, they're twins, so you know, I think it's cute, one of my best friends, my husbands brother, he was really looking forward to them being here. More than us, at the time." She chuckled. "He uh, he gave them to me when we set up their nursery."

"Where is he now?" Leah asked.

"Gone." Natalia looked down. "He's just gone, something happened and he disappeared, we still have hope that he's out there, we're gonna find him one day, just focusing on the girls right now."

"Do you think you'll find him?"

"Course I do. Yeah, He's got a daughter to get back to, and a son to meet, he's out there, I know it."

Just like she had told Daryl in her note, she was back at night, Rosita had let her in, as she was on watch.

"Good luck." Was how she greeted her.

"That bad, huh?"

"Evie practically threw a tantrum to stall him so Michonne or Aaron could convince him you could handle yourself."

"I taught her well." Natalia shrugged.

"Hey, listen, in case I don't catch you tomorrow, uh, I'm leaving."

"You're leaving?" Natalia furrowed her brows.

"Yeah, only for a little while, Tara and I, we've been missing each other real bad, and she seemed stressed out when I talked to her earlier, so I just wanna go up there, and make sure she's alright and everything, won't be for too long." Rosita explained. "I would've said bye tomorrow, but whilst I had you here, and you're not running off for nap time, or food time, or cause someone's crying, and your not covered in mush or puke-"

"I get it, Ro, thanks."

"Anyways, was wondering if you had a picture of the girls I could borrow, to take with me so I can show everyone up Hilltop the prized Dixon twins, I already got one of RJ."

"The prized Dixon twins." Natalia snorted, but she grabbed the pile of photos from her pocket, flicking through them for the most UpToDate one.

The girls were sat in the bathtub, Daryl had over done it with the bubbles, that they were supposed to use sparingly, they were almost drowning in them, their little faces poking out with giant, cheesy smiles on their faces as their curls stuck to their foreheads, their little button noses were scrunched up and their two front teeth were being shown off, Natalia couldn't stop giggling at how cute they were, when she took the picture.

"Here, it's from last week." She handed it to Rosita, "I want it back though, it's my favourite."

"Nat, your girls are lucky they grew up here instead of the old world, otherwise I woulda beat your ass for not putting them in beauty pageants, the sorta money we'd be raking in with these two."

"Oh my god, my mom used to force me to do them, till I was four." Natalia laughed, completely forgetting that fact about herself, that seemed like three lifetimes ago.

"That doesn't even surprise me." Rosita rolled her eyes with a smile.

"Alright I gotta go, give Maggie, Jesus, Tara and Hershel my best."

"Will do." She saluted as Natalia walked down the road.

"Evie, what are you doing?" Natalia asked, stopping at the steps where her daughter was sat, the steps in front of the window of Negan's cell.

Evie jumped up, cutting herself off from whatever she had previously been telling the window, the shock on her face at being caught, let Natalia know that she didn't intent to be found out, she'd knew neither parent would like this.

"Mom, you're back." She gasped, her eyes still wide.

"What are you doing, Evelyn." Her tone was serious, but she tried to keep her anger at bay, letting the girl explain herself. "Does Dad know what you're up to?"

"Yeah... No." She looked down, shaking her head. "He's at home, putting the girls to bed and waiting for you to get back."

"So what are you doing out here, here! Do you have any idea of what time it is? And you snuck out?"

"I didn't sneak out!" She denied.

"Oh, you didn't huh? So, what? You just casually told Dad you were going on a late night stroll, to right here, and sit and have a nice lil convo, and he just... just let you, but he doesn't know you're here because he forgot, did I get that right?"

"No, mom, it's not like that, I was just-"

"Enough."

"Let me explain-" Evie pleaded.

"No. You're grounded, Evelyn. I catch you here again, and I might just let Dad know what you were up to, see what he thinks about that."

"You're not going to tell him?" She looked back up.

"Course not, run along, now, tell him I'm on my way, and I meant what I said." She pointed down the street, towards their home.

"Mom, I'm real sorry, It won't happen again, I promise."

"It better not, go." She watched Evie run down the street, until, she disappeared behind the front door.

Natalia walked towards the second set of the steps, walking down them and entering the cell, for the first time in over a year.

Negan was already waiting for her arrival, sat on his cot, his chin resting on his palm, he looked tired, she didn't care.

"Talk to my daughter, ever again, and I will slit your throat, and this time, Siddiq won't save you." She told him, in a low voice.

"You wanna even know what she was telling me?" He asked.

"No."

"She was telling me how happy you are." He continued, anyway.

"So?" Natalia folded her arms across her chest, unimpressed as she raised a brow.

"She was telling me how happy you are, with Daryl, raising your kids together, practically shoving it in my face." This information threw Natalia off, making her feel a little guilty for telling the girl off, maybe even a little proud. "Wanted me to know, that despite everything I did to the pair of you, you manged to still be happy, with each other, as a family."

"We are very happy." She backed up the source.

"Does she know?" He asked.

"What, Negan?" Natalia sighed.

"Why they're dead? The reason you made me kill them, she know that her own Mommy and Daddy are stone cold killers, who got their friends killed."

Natalia froze up, almost choking on her breath as her hands turned clammy.

"Shut up." She gritted through her teeth.

"You both gonna teach the twins your ways, how to sneak weapons on them, kill someone in the dark, stab someone in the back, beat them to death with a pole, how to ambush a whole group of people who just want to live, turn them into lil killers an'all?"

"Stop." She took a step forward, her nails digging into the palm of her hand.

"Awee, don't kill me just yet, Moore, turn it into a lesson for them, show 'em what happens when Mommy can't admit to what she is, no matter how much she pretends to act like a doting wife and loving mother, that ain't you, Natty, you're a killer, just like me, hell, if you were with me, instead of them, you'd be sitting in this cell right here." He slapped the seat next to him. "Nah, they woulda killed ya, cause you're too dangerous, they know me, they know what I'm capable of, and still, after all this time, you're still full of surprises, sneaking out when the house is asleep, going off an' doing whatever it was you decided to spend your day on, by the looks of you, killing, slaughtering, they know about that, huh? You can pretend how much you like, neither of you are fit for this, hell, the only reason he's staying behind the walls is cause you got him trapped like a dog no more than I did, he woulda left this place in the dust, and everyone with it, guess you can be proud of that. Or, does he stick around, cause he don't trust you with them, don't think you can keep 'em safe when he ain't around, I mean, couldn't keep the first two alive, what's three more, right? That's why he never leaves ya alone with them, won't stray too far, thinks about before, them kids, couldn't even protect them, what's changed? You only became more of a threat."

Natalia lunged for him, the bars preventing her from actually getting to the man, she held on to the metal as she fought back tears, staring at him with pure hatred.

"Shut up. Shut up, shut up, shut up!" She cursed. "I'm not." She shook her head, she felt like she was losing her mind, but she couldn't help it, here she was, trying to put on a brave front, like everything was fine and she had it all figured out, and he stripped her of the whole façade, leaving her with the thoughts that had been circling her mind for months, it was true, everything he was saying, even the stuff about Daryl, he truly had never left her alone with the twins, never for long, and never far, she had never let herself think why, it made her feel sick when the thoughts danced across her brain.

"Truth hurts, darlin'" He mused, looking sad, facing away from her.

"No, I'm not a killer, I'm not! I'm not like you, I'm nothing like you."

"Tell that to all those people who're dead, you can't cause you killed them. They're all dead because of you, plain and simple Natalia, you ain't a hero, you got more blood on your hands than anyone, I heard the stories, and the times back in Georgia, everyone knows, everyone knows what you are, the only reason anybody keeps you around is cause'ah Daryl, Michonne and what used to be Rick."

Natalia pulled out a knife, watching the man carefully, how his eyes followed the blade, as they lit up, realising this was his chance, he did it, he managed to tick her off enough to end his suffering, and that's when she realised that she played right into his hand.

She threw the knife, it landing upright into his plant pot, shattering it as the hilt imbedded into the soil.

"Oops, must've dropped it." Natalia said, her face was blank as she let go of the anger, washing away his words. "Goodnight, Negan."

"Hey, no! Natalia, get back here! Don't walk away from me" Negan called after her. "Don't, you're a murderer, do what you do best, kill me, kill me!"

"I don't work for you."

She left the cell, letting the few tears, that built up, run free, before wiping them away when she reached her home.

She quietly made her way upstairs, Daryl was sneaking out of the twins room, freezing when he saw her, the blood and gore that stained her face, hair and clothes, his expression instantly turned stony, he was mad at her, still, but he was worried.

"Just walkers." Natalia whispered, continuing up the stairs and making her way to their room, and towards the bathroom, he followed.

"Girl's are asleep." He muttered, leaning against the wall of the bathroom, his arms folded across his chest, whilst she fiddled with the shower. "Took ages cause they wanted their Momma."

A small smile graced her face as she checked the temperature of the running water.

"Where'd you go?" Daryl asked.

"Just... something I'm working on." She answered, starting to peel her clothes off.

"What, you ain't gonna bother telling me? You sneak off before the suns even up, leaving me a fucking note, whilst they all got goodbyes, come home, like that, an' you won't even tell me what you were up to? Nat-"

"You trust me, right?" She asked, it was a test, she had to prove Negan wrong. "Daryl, do you trust me?"

"Don't pull that shit." He pointed at her, pushing off the wall. "You know full well I trust you with my life, don' mean you get to lie and go behind my back, what were you doing?"

"I'm working on something, 'kay?" She took a deep breath in, letting it out as she stepped towards him, beginning to unbutton his shirt. "You know that woman, the one I met in the woods."

"Yeah, Leah."

"Yeah." She pushed his shirt down his arms. "I just... I don't want her to think she's completely alone, guess I'm tryna make friends, I don't know... Sometimes, I just think, what would my life be like if you, Glenn and T-Dog never bothered me, would I be dead, would I have joined a group, other things, I wanna help her."

"Mhm." He grunted.

"I'm sorry for leaving, but I knew that if I didn't go out today, I probably never would. And with everything Carol said, weeks ago, couldn't get it out my mind." She trailed soft kisses across his bare chest, towards his collarbone and up along his throat, as her hands undid the buttons of his jeans, pulling them down.

"Baby." He groaned, his hands landing on her waist, "I know what you're doing, I'm still pissed at ya."

"Show me how much" She rose on her tiptoes, whispering in his ear, with a wicked smile.

One of his hands cupped her face, turning her head to kiss her hard, walking her backwards and into the shower.

She let out a giggle when her back hit the wall, the water falling over them, washing away the mess across her skin as they sucked faces.

"When I woke up, an' you were gone, was so fuckin' mad at ya." Daryl growled, kissing down her neck and across her chest, caressing each breast.

"How mad, baby?" She whined as he continued down her body, getting to his knees.

He ran his hand up her left leg, placing it over his shoulder, opening her up for himself.

"So fuckin' mad, at myself, an'all, maybe I haven't been treating you good enough, haven't been showing you where you belong, who you belong with." He kissed up her thigh's, marking each one as she leaned her head back against the wall, letting out soft mewls, his raspy voice vibrated against her skin, she truly felt that the sound of him talking could undo her, alone.

Natalia screwed her eyes shut, her fingers finding the roots of his hair, pulling on them, as she arched her back, pathetically begging for more of his touch, she truly had taught him well.

"Who you belong with, baby?" He asked, his breath fanning over her wet heat, as his hands rubbed and squeezed her thighs and ass

"You. I belong with you, I'm sorry, I won't ever go without telling you again, please, I- I need you, I belong with you, forever." She pleaded desperately.

"Tha's it, atta girl." He licked up a long strip along her folds, sucking on her clit, causing her to bite her lip, to keep her guttural moan quiet, they had an advantage of the shower blocking out most of their noise, but it wasn't enough to overtake Natalia's cries of pleasure.

He continued to attack her sensitive bud as two fingers entered her, stretching her out for what was to come.

"Dar- Daryl, oh, fuck. Oh, God, I'm so close." Natalia gritted, as she took out her built up frustration on his dark locks, grinding against his face.

At her words, he pulled away, his angry expression returning as he stood up, ignoring her whimper at feeling empty.

"Turn 'round." He ordered.

"Daryl?" She raised her brows, confused over his switch up, her lips pouted, acting innocent.

"Said turn 'round." He growled, "Hands on the wall, thought you were gonna get what you want, after what you pulled, naw, you gon' do what I say, an' you gon' take it, then we'll see if ya actually learn ya lesson, understood?"

She nodded, her eyes still wide.

"Use that pretty mouth of yers."

"I understand."

He couldn't help himself but to kiss her again, she looked so perfect, under the water, as drops hung from her lashes, the soft expression on her face, and how her normally tidy and maintained hair turned frizzy and all over the place.

His hand held the side of her neck as he bruised her lips with his own, letting her taste herself.

Normally, when Daryl was pissed, upset, or angry, he'd hit, hurt or break something, but taking it out on her, like this, was too good of something to pass up, Daryl was the opposite of a selfish lover, if he could, he'd spend all his days just satisfying her, that was enough for him, he didn't need anything in return, the only times he'd ever let her go down on him, is if she wanted to, badly.

But he needed to show her how it made him feel when she ran off, somehow, the woman made him feel like a crazy obsessed lunatic, she had him wrapped around her finger since the day she had that gun pointed at his face, but he'd probably stab you if you mentioned it.

When he felt her get too comfortable with the kiss, he pulled his head away, guiding her to move towards the wall, she did as he said, placing her hands on the wall as he nudged her legs apart, grabbing a hold of her hair as he bent her over slightly.

He pushed himself against her, his other hand holding her hip tightly.

"Ready?" He asked.

"Come on, Daryl, please." She cried, still on the verge, wanting him to just pound inside her, even going to the length of rubbing up against his front, feeling him.

He couldn't hold out any longer, he lined himself up, before ploughing into her, roughly.

Natalia clenched around him, wanting him deeper

She let out a satisfied moan of victory, no matter what, she always got her way.

Daryl found a pace, as he thrusted into her, over and over and over.

"Fuck, baby, hard to stay mad at yer, when you're so fuckin' perfect, wanna be here for the rest of the time I'm breathin'." He grunted, reaching his own high. "Like you were made just for me."

"Yes, yes, oh god." She gasped, the knot tightening.

"You're mine. Ain't ya, you ain't nobodies but mine."

"I'm yours, fuck, nobody does it like you, ruined me forever, can only have you." Her voice rose the closer she got.

She could tell he wasn't far behind, literally and figuratively, by the way his thrusts were getting sloppier and faster, his breathing more laboured.

He held on until she came, tightening around him even more as she released, Daryl continued, bringing a hand round to her bud, circling it firmly as he coaxed her through her high.

When he reached his breaking point, he pulled out, letting himself go, letting the shower wash away his mess.

Once they were both properly showered, Daryl carried her back to their room, throwing her on the bed for the next, third, fourth and fifth round of the night.

The lack of sleep was worth it, they were both satisfied with the results, coming to an agreement, Natalia was still going to meet with the woman in the woods, until she finally came around to her, but she'd at least let Daryl know, and they'd have a repeat of the night every time, to make up for the time apart, which they were both adamant on.

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