#i remember when I only used to day DADDY ironically

[nevergonnasimpyoumikey]

When the Online DLC came out, I wanted to organize a fanzine focused on Franklin —even started working on a Discord server for it — but then I just focused on other writing stuff because I don't actually have the technical expertise with putting a project like this together. And I certainly don't have extra time now because I'm going back to studying for a bit while still working, but I still kinda wanna do this, so idk, I'm just carefully inquiring if people would be interested in this? Could be fics and art and any other kind of work, shippy or not, didn't think about the rating yet. I could organize (like think of deadlines etc) but idk about putting the works together

#yes the earlier post got me all 😳 again #i remember when I only used to day DADDY ironically #franklin clinton #gta v #if not a zine then maybe a theme week? idk

[psychedelic-ink]

ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐒

ㅤㅤghostface!mike schmidt x afton daughter!reader

genre: smut, minors dni, dark content, ghostface au

word count: 4.5k

summary: how were you supposed to know one of your closest friends was also the one in desperate need for revenge?

warnings: dubcon (this can also be considered noncon to some since there's the fear of death in place so if that's not your thing please don't read), knife use, manipulation, voyeurism but no one actually sees, daddy kink, piv, blowjob, nonconsensual somnophilia, male masturbation, reader doesn't know what william did, dirty talking, creampie

a/n: a day late but happy thanksgiving everyone 🖤 i am thankful for my josh hutcherson phase (normally I was going to post this yesterday but oh well you get it)

**dividers made by @saradika xx

How long has it been since you came here? How long has it been since you witnessed the clean beige exterior that now looked more suffocating than liberating? 

You observe the dust over the picture frames as you drop the suitcases, the sudden release of weight making your back bend back like a bow. You stare for a while. Your dad had bought this particular vacation home ages ago. Ironically he had done it so the family could spend some quality time together over the summers. That was before the incident. Before your mom left, only leaving you and him. 

Now the dirt outside was muddy from the pouring rain. Leaves turning to mush under the pressure of tires and boots. You hear the faint sound of the car door closing. Moments later Mike stands behind you. You can feel his breath tickling the back of your neck. It soothes you. 

“So this is the famous summer house huh?” he looks around, not bothering to close the door behind him, he takes a step further. “God, it’s cold in here. Please tell me there’s a heater somewhere.” 

“Probably in the basement. Remind you this place wasn’t meant for winter.” 

“Yeah I can see that from the windows,” he turns and finally closes the door. “It’s a bit eerie that anyone might just watch us from down there.” 

You scoff, “Who’s gonna watch? This house is the only one. Besides it’s just a couple days.” 

Your dad was finally selling the place. Meaning you had limited time to pack the things you wanted to keep before the rest was torn out. You knew packing all the old pictures would be overwhelming so you asked Mike to join and he was more than eager to help out—which was a bit surprising but you were grateful nonetheless. He was always kind to you. Always so gentle. He made your heart jump whenever he looked into your eyes, observing, searching them for something more. You never knew what he was searching for. 

Mike walks ahead with just his backpack, he’s wearing all black: black hoodie, black pants, black jacket. . . he’s completely contrasting his surroundings. He turns to you with rounded eyes and you melt a little. 

“So where am I staying?” 

“Let me show you,” It’s odd being in the halls again, you remember them feeling endless when you were a kid. The floor underneath you creaks. “Luckily we have a bunch of rooms. I don’t know what my parents were thinking, it’s not like we entertained a lot of guests.” 

“Well, it worked out in the end. Now I have a place to say.” 

“Silver lining,” you agree, showing his room. “Make yourself comfortable. I’m going to head to bed and we can brainstorm where to start in the morning.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he steps inside the room and you can’t help but be reminded of how out of place he looks. “Good night.” 

“Good night, Mike.” 

He stands at the door with furrowed brows and downturned lips. Not that it’s important what his expression is. It’s not like anyone can see it underneath his mask. The mask that he’d bought last second. It is now or never. And this is his chance to avenge his brother, his broken family. This is the solution to all of it. 

It doesn’t help that you’re soundly sleeping. Your lips slightly parted, more skin showing with each rise and fall of your chest. Mike takes a step further inside. The wind howls against the naked windows. Yet, your room managed to stay warm. You turn around to lay on your back and he sees you parting your legs underneath the comforter. His cock grows hard at the sight, he’d love to take you right now. Fuck you until you gasp awake, your sweet cunt dripping with arousal—you’d tell him to stop, not recognizing who he is and he’d go on until you’re creaming around him. Your body becoming sweaty and warm. 

Mike licks his lips and rubs a palm over the outline of his cock. His eyes search your room. You hadn’t unpacked yet. Your suitcase open with clothes pouring out the edges. You probably just picked that flimsy shirt you were wearing and headed to bed. He slowly walks to the pile of clothes, within, he finds a pair of black lace underwear. Mike picks it up. A gloved thumb follows the patterns of delicate flowers. His lips curl upward, just what you were planning on doing with him here? In your old family home where it’s just the two of you?

He stands at the edge of your bed. He’s amazed at how much he can get away with without waking you. It’s amazing how much you trust him without a second thought. 

Too bad he doesn’t trust you. 

With your panties, he fists his cock, the fabric catches against the head prompting the jerk of his hips. He strokes himself fast and hard. Precome seeping into the delicate fabric. His eyes are glued to your lips, the pacing of your breath, your body that’s sprawled underneath the sheets. His cock twitches. Balls tightening as he imagines the sounds you would make for him with a knife against your throat and him deep inside your cunt. 

The smallest of groans manage to escape him as he spills into his fist and the fabric, thick ropes of come staining your panties, he inches closer. Hips stuttering helplessly while wishing to see himself dirty your pretty parted lips. He knows he will soon enough. He sees the way you look at him, how desperate you are for affection and a sense of belonging. Mike enjoys the sense of control he has over you. It makes it all that much more sweeter. 

He’ll take you. Break you. And pull you back together again. 

He’ll ruin William Afton’s precious little girl. 

You’re blessed with a little bit of sun today. Bits of dust sway in the air, boxes upon boxes standing around you and Mike. Two empty coffee cups lay idly on the floor. You slept like a baby last night, which was something you hadn’t expected, yet when you woke up you felt a bit off. Your door was open for starters. And you definitely remember closing it. Mike had just shrugged it off, saying that you were tired and probably forgot. 

Which is likely, now that you think about it. 

Mike picks up one of the framed photos of you and your dad. Despite the sunlight filling the living room, a chill settles over your skin. He observes the photo longer than necessary. Then he traces the engraved name underneath the picture. 

“Afton,” he murmurs. “I keep forgetting you’re an Afton.” 

He doesn’t let go of the picture as his eyes meet yours, you don’t like the look in them. He almost seems angry. 

“What does it matter?” you say in a sheer tone. “It’s not like it means anything whether I’m an Afton or not.” 

“I’d beg the differ. And I know some other people would too.” 

Mike places the photo in a box, eyes dropping to the floor. Heat rises to your cheeks. You’re confused. Very confused. “Are talking about Freddy Fazbear’s? You know I don’t like talking about that Mike.” 

“No need to get defensive. I’m just saying that your surname isn’t nothing,” he gives you a small smile but it does little to calm your nerves. “You were never suspicious of him?” 

“Of what?” 

He gives you a blank stare, “Of the murders.” 

Your mouth opens and very promptly snaps shut. Mike was never interested in this before. He hadn’t even asked about it, not once. Your shoulders drop and your heart feels heavy in your chest—Were you ever suspicious of him? Of your own father? To be fair you never thought about it. You shut your eyes and plugged your ears. You never wanted to think about that wretched pizzeria and all the things that happened in it. 

Your stomach jumps when he reaches out, curling his palm over the slope of your knee. You release a long breath. 

“Sorry for bringing it up,” he says, his eyes now soft. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” 

“That’s okay.” It wasn’t. You get up, feeling the weight of his gaze as you do. “Alright, I think I’m gonna take a brisk shower then we can make pasta or something.” 

“I can start on that,” he answers. “Pesto or marinara?” 

“You can pick. I’m fine with either.” 

He nods and you leave before he stands. You feel icky all over. The dust and the sudden reality check about your father’s pizzeria and his role in all that had happened make you desperate to scrub yourself clean. 

You swiftly enter the bathroom, shutting the door behind you, giving it a hard shove until you hear the satisfying click. The inside smells of lavender. 

You strip and throw your clothes into the washing machine. The water warms up easily when you step inside. You draw the curtain shut and sigh at the clean water caressing your skin. Warm showers are the solution to everything. Even daddy issues. You begin to wash your hair, a soft moan dropping from your lips as you massage your scalp. The water trickles down your neck and between your breasts. With soapy hands, you give yourself a firm squeeze and graze your thumbs over the pebbled nipples. 

“That’s nice,” you sigh, hands moving up to rinse your hair. Maybe after the shower you can lay down and treat yourself until lunch is ready. Your vibrator’s fully charged, and the prospect of Mike hearing the faint buzz of it makes your pussy throb. 

Just as you reach for the loofah a soft click echoes in the steamy room. 

Your body tenses. Your heart suddenly beating a mile a minute. 

Your eyes turn in the direction of the door but you can’t see well with the curtain. All you see is the blurry darkness of the hall thanks to the open entrance. “Mike?” you call out, voice trembling. “If that’s you it’s not funny.” 

Of course, it’s not him. Even from here, you can smell the pasta sauce. Pesto. You desperately search for any kind of weapon you can use but all you see are shampoo bottles and the loofah you’re currently holding. You swallow. Turning back to the curtain, you see a faint shadow. It tilts its head. 

You need to attack. Need to do something before they do. How did they even get in here? 

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. 

But you’re frozen with fear as the stranger curls their fingers around the shower curtain. The rest happens suddenly. The curtain is ripped open and you see who it is—Mostly. You see the mask, two pitch-black eyes staring back at you. Instead of screaming you jump away, the porcelain slips from underneath you, you fall and as soon as you do, you’re swallowed by darkness. 

Your eyes flutter open. There’s a sharp sting against your forehead. 

“Thank god you’re awake.” 

“M—Mike?” 

Your vision stops shaking and you finally see him. Mike, and his two soft brown eyes staring down at you. He’s holding a ball of cotton, the white stained by a bit of red. “What. . .” You attempt to get up but quickly forgo your decision when your head throbs. Mike clicks his tongue and presses the cotton to your head, your eyes tear up as it stings, but it slightly subsides seconds later. Looking down, you notice a towel was thrown over you. 

“I should be asking you that, how the hell did you slip?” 

“I. . . I didn’t.” 

“What do you mean you didn’t?” 

“There. . there was someone in the shower,” Your blood freezes as you remember. “He. . .I think it was a he? He was wearing a mask and he opened the curtain and fuck—I was so scared Mike.” 

Your arms move on their own and wrap around his neck, pulling him close. It takes him only a second to mimic your movement, wrapping his arms around your cold shivering body. His fingers trace your spine. A pleasant shiver runs up your back. “It’s okay. I’ve got you now,” he murmurs. “But. . . the door was closed.” 

What? “What?” You shake your head as you pull away from him, ignoring the towel slightly sliding lower. “There’s no way. How did you see me then?” 

“Well, I shouted for you but you didn’t respond. Then I knocked and you didn’t respond again. The door wasn’t locked so I let myself in.” 

“And you found me unconscious? No one was here?” 

“Only you.” 

You shudder. That’s absolutely terrifying. 

“Come on let’s. . .” he swallows and you notice his eyes lingering where your towel has fallen. The swell of your breasts exposed. Looking away, you pull the fabric up and properly wrap it around yourself. His eyes move up to meet your gaze. “Let’s get you dressed and then we can eat.” 

Your last night here. Finally. 

After the unfortunate fall in the shower, you never managed to shake the feeling of being watched in your own house. You didn’t say anything to Mike but you knew he saw how freaked out you were from your eyes, by the way you would jump at every sound. Every time you closed your eyes you saw the stranger’s mask—those damn black sockets and open mouth staring back at you. It didn’t help that every morning you found your door wide open. You could’ve sworn that you closed it. But without fail, the door was open in the morning. 

And you’re so grateful to be done with it all. 

Stacks of boxes stand tall near the door. You were adamant about having everything ready tonight so that as soon as the sun peaked through the two of you could leave. Which was why you had ordered Mike to pack his suitcase— you’re doing the same, folding clothes with shaky hands and hoping the morning would come faster. 

Throwing your shirt into the suitcase your brows furrow, “What the hell?” you murmur as you lower yourself to your knees. The drawers and closet are emptied out, so why the hell do you only have three pairs of underwear? 

Sweat beads at your forehead. With panic, you rummage through the neatly folded clothes. You don’t care about the mess or the fact that you’ll have to fold them again—why can’t you find the other pairs? 

You’re completely defeated as your entire body deflates. Just three. You remember packing ten. They’re gone. All gone. Stolen. 

Your heart lurches and you feel it beating in your throat. You want to leave. You want to leave. You want to leave. 

The phone rings. 

It’s loud and booming. Your eyes shot towards the hallway. It’s the landline. A phone that hadn’t been used for god knows how long. You weren’t even aware that it was still connected. 

You blink rapidly, forcing the sting of tears to fade. You stand on shaky legs as you head towards the phone in the living room. You vaguely hear Mike mumbling a melody that’s familiar but also not at the same time. 

You stare at your reflection in the widows as you pick up the phone. Normally you’d appreciate the view. The dark sky, the swaying pine trees. But not today. 

You clear your throat, “H—Hello?” 

You hear a faint static, a low internal breathing, then the silence talks back, saying your name. You shudder at the rasp in his voice, fear weighing you down and gluing you to the floor. “Who is this?” you ask. 

“You know who I am,” he murmurs and takes a deep inhale. “We’ve met before remember? That moment in the bathroom.” Your body freezes all over, he chuckles, then speaks as if reminiscing a fond memory. “You looked so amazing. Nipples hard, body wet. Were you touching yourself?” 

You remain silent, eyes glued to the hall that is lit by Mike’s room. You want to call out. You really do. But you’re terrified. 

“Was it him you were thinking about?” 

“That’s. . .” you swallow. “That’s none of your business.” 

“Everything you do is my business,” he snaps but then the harsh baritone of his voice quickly softens. “Fine. Don’t. I know the answer anyway.” 

“What do you want?” 

“I want the truth, Miss Afton.” Your breath catches, your knees begin to shake. “Just answer my question and maybe you won’t die.” 

You remain silent and you hear the smile in his voice, “Good girl. Now, do you know your father is a murderous piece of trash? Yes or no?” 

You close your eyes, shake your head, you can’t answer. “Fine,” he huffs. “Do you think you deserve to live?” 

“I. . .” Your mouth goes dry and your fingers tighten around the phone. “I do.” 

Honestly, you’re not sure if you believe that. 

“Oh, I’m sorry but that’s just not correct,” he answers with a melodic lilt. “You don’t deserve anything. Why should your life matter more than the other kids that were killed by your father?” 

“It shouldn’t.” 

Your voice barely comes out in a whisper now. Your eyes drop to the floor, maybe if you run and get to Mike in time you can save you both? 

“Is your dad a killer yes or no?” then he adds. “You better answer correctly this time.” 

“I don’t know,” you say this time, he clicks his tongue in annoyance. 

“Wrong.” You close your eyes, taking a deep breath you open them again. All you see is your reflection. “I’ve been watching you,” he says. “You sleep like a log. I watched you. Fucked my fist while you were sleeping soundly, dreaming of sunshine and rainbows,” he sighs. “Or whatever the fuck girls like you dream about.”

You’re appalled by the sudden gush of wetness that courses through you. You shake your head, trying to push the images away. “Please don’t do this,” you beg. 

He stops speaking for a good while, for a second you think he hung up, but then you hear his breath in your ear and know that he’s still there. “I keep forgetting.” 

“Forgetting what?” 

“That you’re an Afton.” 

Your heart drops to the pits of your stomach. Every fiber of skin burning and tingling with the realization. You’ve heard those words before. You’ve heard the hidden accusation in them. Your ear burns from the phone pressed against it, you press it harder, not wanting to miss a second of dialogue. Your lips brush against the plastic as you do. 

“Mike?”

The line goes dead. Silent. And you realize you preferred words coming from the other line. Tortorously slow, as if in a dream, you place the phone back in its cradle. You feel him before you see him. Your head turns. You feel every muscle pulling as you do. 

And there he is. 

The man with the mask. 

“Mike?” you say again with less conviction. He tilts his head, not moving, not saying anything. Your body stiffens and your eyes drop to his hands where you see the sharp edge of a knife. You drag your gaze back to the mask, hoping that you’re staring into his eyes, “Why?” 

He takes a step forward and you take a step back. You’re inches away from the wide windows. “I had a brother,” he says, you’re surprised to find yourself relaxing upon hearing his voice. “I’ve tracked down the suspects. Looked at similar cases for years. Every bit of information leads to Afton.” 

“I had nothing to do with it.” 

Another step. The glass is cool underneath your palms. 

“You father did,” he answers. He stands only an inch away now, your stomach jumps when he presses the sharp edge of the knife against your neck. You hold your breath. “The day he took him is the day I lost everything. My family shattered. All because of him. And now. . .” Mike presses the knife harder, a hint of pain blossoming from where he’d cut. Your eyes snap shut. “Now I’ll take his little girl. Eye for an eye.” 

“Mike, please,” you whisper. Then you say something that surprises you both. “Take off the mask. If I’m going to die, I want to see you.” 

He tenses but obliges anyway. The mask falls to the floor, his hair mussed, soft curls fall over his forehead. A bit of stubble on his chin from not shaving at all since you two arrived. He doesn’t look scary, not at all. He looks vengeful, yes, but the softness in his eyes is still there. 

“What are you going to do to me?” 

Mike’s nostrils flare as he inhales, he exhales through parts lips, you feel his warm breath on your skin. “I’m going to ruin you.” The knife is replaced with his hand, he squeezes your throat, pulls you away from the glass, and slams you into it. “You’re mine now. I own you.” 

You shudder as he lets you go, his hands fumble with his jeans, and the fabric pools at his ankles. “Get on your knees and suck daddy’s cock.” 

You stare at him, wide-eyed but do as you’re told anyway. You drop to your knees. His cock achingly hard in front of you. He holds himself and drags the wet tip across your lips. He slides the underside of his cock against your face and without thought you dart your tongue out, tasting him. Mike groans, the sound rattling in his chest. With no warning given, he slips his cock between your lips and stops halfway. Your eyes water at how thick he is. 

When you look up you see he’s holding his phone, camera directed at you with his cock in your mouth. “Sorry,” he says with a faint smirk. “I need a souvenir to remember how good you look with my cock in your mouth. Who knew Afton’s precious daughter was such a slut.” 

Your eyes flutter as he shoves the phone back into his jacket pocket. He cradles your head and starts fucking himself deep into your mouth. “You know,” he rasps. Mike pushes himself especially deep and smiles broadly when you choke around him. “You really should be thanking me for not slitting your throat during all the nights I watched you.” 

He suddenly stops and pulls out until it’s only the head between your lips. His cock throbs on your tongue, he forces your gaze up to him, “Thank me for not slitting your throat.” 

“Thank—” It’s hard to speak with him still between your lips. You swallow and try again, your nipples tight. “Thank you for not slitting my throat.” 

“Such an obedient girl,” he muses. “I’m going to fuck you in every corner of this house. Get up—” 

He says that but lifts you himself, impatient, he presses you against the window, your cheek smushed against the clear surface. Your neck strains a little. His breath caresses the back of your neck, his lips on your ear, “Time to pay for your father’s sins.”

Mike lifts your shirt and pulls down your sweats. His cock lays heavy above the small of your back. Warm and wet. You clench as he pushes you forward, your breasts fully pressed against the glass. He kicks your legs apart, holding your arms back, Mike slips inside you with ease. Your breath halts in your throat. You only feel pleasure. You drip down his length, and with a groan, he buries himself to the hilt. 

“I knew you’d been waiting for this,” he groans. “So fucking wet—” 

“M—Mike—” 

He clicks his tongue and cocks his head to the side, his forehead brushing against the back of your head. “Not Mike.” 

“Daddy,” you moan as he pulls out and slams back in. You choke. “Daddy—” 

Mike fucks into your harder, the sound of skin against skin echoes in the room, wet squelches following. Your knees shake as you find yourself completely immobile against the glass. His fingers curl around your neck and he yanks your head back, hips relentless. 

“Look at that, anyone could see you now. I wish we had an audience.” Your cunt squeezes him like a vice, his hips stutter forward, a sharp moan rattling in his throat. He laughs. “Does that turn you on?” Helpless, you nod. “That’s it, take it. Daddy’s whore.” 

“Kiss me—please—” 

The plea takes him by surprise, he stops, hand tensing around your neck, you feel the pulse of his cock deep inside you. He drags his hips down your neck and teases you with his teeth. Goosebumps rise over your skin. And finally—finally—those perfect plush lips meet your own. It’s cruel really. The red strings of fate that tie you two together. You’re still not sure what to make of it all. Or of him. But you surrender. You surrender to his mouth and tongue. Mike swallows you whole. His tongue moves lavishly over yours, sliding and sucking as he presses harder inside you. 

“Gonna come inside,” he breathes into your mouth. His hand drops between your legs, your body shaking as he draws tight circles around your clit. 

Mike’s lips meet your throat, gentle then ravenous, making their way to the blankets of your clavicle, scraping the delicate skin. You arch against him, pleasure building, craving more. He thrusts harder, deeper, the pleasure increasing with each movement. His fingers grab your hips, and you can feel yourself tightening around him, his cock slamming against your core inside of you. Obscene sounds come from where he’s playing with your clit. You feel like a rag doll. And soon the coil snaps, you’re falling. 

Your entire body goes tense, his name leaving your lips in an urgent plea as the pleasure overtakes you. You shake and tremble, Mike continues to hammer into you, hand leaving your core and bracing itself near your head. Briefly, you manage to look outside. See the darkness that looms over the forest. Then you notice his reflection in the glass, eyes meeting yours. 

He smiles. 

Mike moans loudly, lips parting, his hips stutter over and over, spilling himself inside. Your eyes roll back, a whimper falling from your mouth as you take all of it. He holds himself there until his come starts to drip from where he stretches you. Your forehead finds purchase on the glass. Cold and soothing. His lips brush the back of your neck. 

“You look so tired already but we’re not done yet,” he parts your lips with his fingers and pushes them inside. Teary, you find his eyes in the reflection once more. He’s pleased. “I was serious in what I said, Miss Afton. I own you, now.” 

“Mike. . .” 

“And no matter where you run off to,” he murmurs, cutting you off. A hint of annoyance in using his name.  “I’ll always come back.”

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x fem!reader #mike schmidt x f!reader #dark mike schmidt #ghostface au #ghost face!mike schmidt #josh hutcherson character fanfic #fnaf fanfic #five night at freddy's fanfic #tw daddy kink #tw dubcon

[chuunai]

Hi hi! Would love to participate in your event if that’s cool

I was wondering if we could hav a Fyodor with scenario 2 and prompt 14

Idk if you want more details but I discovered your blog and I kinda got baby fever too sooooooo

Fire away friend

I’m sorry for making you sick : (

✧˚ · . my days are yours, yours - fyodor dostoevsky

how can a baby control his heart?

summary ⋆ ★ comfort, fluff, established relationship (marriage with reader), babies, babies and babies, SFW → minor mentions of death and overall fyodor trying to be a daddy while juggling killing the entire world. Spoilers for the last episode of BSD season five and the latest chapters of the manga.

Lord, she looked so much like him.

Rounded purple eyes and thick strands of black hair, she was his copy. Of course, genetically speaking, she was half his. And half yours. But Fyodor had a greater influence on your baby daughter. A squirming seven month old named Avdotya Fyodorovna Dostoevskya. Ironic, wasn’t it? That his child’s name meant good while he was evil?

It made sense, though. Yin and yang.

Putting down his pen, Fyodor looked over at the small makeshift crib that was next to his desk. In it was the sleeping Avdotya—Dunya, for short—wrapped up in cozy blankets and stuffed animals.

He’d worked enough for today.

Carefully picking up the newborn, his pale anemic hands cradled her, supporting her head as he held her to his chest. His heart sped up a bit when Dunya stirred a bit, but she ultimately didn’t wake up. She looked so calm and content in the moment. Fyodor shared the same feelings. Besides awe, of course.

For all of his planning and manipulation, he had never planned for a baby.

Sure, you were his wife, but he’d always use protection. An infant wouldn’t work with his current dangerous plans. Yet he somehow managed to knock you up. A completely unplanned variable in his plans. Yet it seemed so right. As a man of god, Fyodor couldn’t deny the blessing that God gave him.

His study door soon freaked open by your arrival as you quietly walked behind him, arms sliding around his neck in a tired way as your cheek pressed against the fluffy material of his ushanka.

“She’s doing okay?”

As if his little angel would ever be harmed.

“Of course, дорогой.”

He replied in an equally hushed tone. He turned his head slightly to the left, placing a gentle peck on your arm affectionately. For someone who regularly manipulated people who trusted him (albeit in a scared way), he could never find himself using you or his newfound family for his plans. God would disapprove of a man who hurt his family.

“You should rest. I’ll watch over her.”

It was only fair.

You had been watching Dunya constantly—babysitters and nannies couldn’t be hired due to his prolific crime record—while he was gone setting up his plans and relations. Fyodor had seen you cry over the stress multiple times. Each time he reassured you all would be better in due time. And it would be. When all the sinners of the world were gone, angels like you and Avdotya would be safe.

In the meantime though, he’d make you as happy as he could.

Feeling a gentle kiss on his cheek, Fyodor faintly smiled as you left for some much needed relaxation and sleep. Tucking his baby’s hair behind her tiny ears, he hummed a small lullaby.

He remembered that as a child his mother would sing some to him. It was one of the few comforting memories he had.

And his Avdotya should have the same experience.

Reaching the second verse of the lullaby, his deep voice quietly filled the room. He slowly rocked his baby, warmth flooding through his usually cold body. A peck on her perfect head.

He’d have to teach you these sorts of lullabies and cradle songs. While you knew a bit of Russian—limited to affectionate nicknames and general greetings—, you could do better. Perhaps you two could study together when Avdotya would nap. Him struggling with kanji, and you resting your head on his shoulder as you stared at Russian characters and committed them to memory.

Fyodor relaxed back into his chair, content with the familial moment.

The finale soon came.

He sat there for minutes afterwards, just taking in the sight of the life he created. Dazai was wrong. Fyodor was no demon, no, he was a god. He had created life, and so had God. And while others may point out the billions of other parents in the world, he’d merely dismiss their claims. They had birthed normal children.

Not an angel like his Dunya.

Could other children have such awe-inspiring eyes? Or the affinity she had for music just like her father—how she babbled and cooed in your lap while he played cello for the two of you. He knew she’d grow up to be something great like him. A firstborn always took after their father, in his opinion.

Standing up with little Avdotya in his arms, he walked to the nursery, passing by your shared bedroom where you were sleeping by now. Creaking open the door, he carefully navigated the dark room, lowering his daughter into her crib before carefully covering her with a warm blanket and her favorite stuffed toy.

A fuzzy penguin gifted by Sigma.

A lot of the nursery’s decorations were bought by Fyodor, but there were a few given by his fellow DOA members. Sadly, a majority of Nikolai’s gifts had to be scrapped. Dunya couldn’t use clown makeup or the miniature cherry bombs. A pity, really.

Fatherhood suited Fyodor rather well.

Flicking on a small nightlight, he soon left after a goodbye to his daughter. His footsteps pattered on the wooden floor, making his way to your bedroom to finally sleep off the day’s events.

Once again, the door slowly creaked open as he walked in. He already had his pajamas on—a baggy long black shirt and some black pants—, sliding into bed next to you as one hand found itself on your stomach, the other already playing with your hair. Fyodor admired your body. It grew his angel, and now it nourished her.

While you were adamant that you looked worse after birth, he could only say the opposite. All of the Renaissance paintings and sculptures had been wrong in their depictions of goddesses and heavenly figures. He could only see you as a true goddess who fell for a sinner like him.

Would such a goddess permit him to have another child with her?

Fyodor had grown up in a small family back in St. Petersburg. Just him and his mother. His father had left him long ago.

He didn’t want Avdotya to feel the same. Lonely.

Siblings would prevent that. Maybe two? Even three, if you felt up for it. He hadn’t said anything about it since you were still recovering and getting used to being a mother just to one child, but he oh so badly wanted a bigger family. More look a-likes of him and you.

“My goddess.”

His lips nuzzled against your hair, murmuring sweet affections and praise. Even he couldn’t have predicted such a thing like this. A wife. A daughter. A family of his own.

And even when weeks later he was stuck in Meursault with four other men playing Nikolai’s twisted game of escape, he thought about you. The plan would work, and he’d see you again after he faked his death. Sure, it might take weeks or months, but he’d come back. He’d made sure of it—having thought of the betrayal of his subordinates a while ago.

And when Dazai would later tug his severed arm out of the helicopter’s crash site, it wouldn’t have a ring on the ring finger.

That ring would be snugly set on his other hand.

They could take his body, his wealth, his intelligence.

But they couldn’t take him away from you and the vow you two had made. Until death do you part.

Tags: @twst-om-lover, @sinfulthoughtsposts, @xxcandlelightxx

Help this took so long

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[foreverdolly]

my bestest girl | austin!elvis x reader

summary: you're elvis’s childhood best friend, and he’s been in love with you for as long as he can remember. his mother and father keep trying to push him to finally make a move, what with you being the only girl that they would ever approve of their son going steady with. elvis, bashful and fearful of rejection, decides to keep his feelings to himself. . . well- that is until he can’t physically take it anymore

pairings: austin!elvis x fem!reader

word count: 9,173 ( I couldn't stop typing ).

warnings/notes: SMUT !, cursing, the reader and elvis are both huge virgins, grinding, slight dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, implied breeding kink, elvis loves you so much that it physically pains him. the internal image of an inexperienced, nervous elvis has me foaming at the mouth. everyone always writes austin!elvis as a sex god, but quivering boys with shaky, wandering hands who cry during sex is my own personal kryptonite. a continuation of this fic is currently in the works, so please follow me or ask to be added to my taglist for my virgin!elvis content if ya liked this.

masterlist | requests are currently closed !

“Mama, here you go again! Stop tryin’ to stick your nose into other people’s business.” He called from his bedroom, his heart pounding against his chest. Elvis stared at himself in the small mirror he had in his cramped space, taking a few steps back so that he could make sure that his short sleeve button up didn’t have any wrinkles. He had insisted that he do the ironing himself, not wanting his mother to be too overwhelmed with things to do. He wasn’t very good when it came to housework, no matter how hard he tried. 

“I’m not doin’ anythin’ a mother shouldn’t do, baby! I ran into her daddy at the grocery store, and we just got to talkin’ is all.” Is that what she wanted to call it? Vernon had pulled Elvis aside just thirty minutes ago and had told him that Gladys had practically begged your father to get you to come over for dinner tonight. She’d been meddling in his relationship with you for years, but tonight was different. He could tell that she had something up her sleeve, ready to pull out once she got two of you cornered at the dinner table. 

She had always been wildly overprotective of her son, and Elvis had never fought the hold that she had over his life. He didn’t blame her one bit for it, rather he enjoyed feeling loved and cared for. He never spent a single night away from home until he was seventeen, for crying out loud. If Elvis lost a son the same way that she had, he was positive that he’d want nothing more than to keep him safe and healthy. That was exactly what Gladys was doing. She looked after him and made sure he never got himself into any sort of trouble. His old pals from high school used to say that she felt “threatened” by the girls that used to try their hand at flirting with him, but the blue eyed boy knew that it just wasn’t the case. No, she wanted him to be with the right girl. 

In Glady’s and Vernon’s eyes, you were the only girl for Elvis. He felt that way about you too. 

When he reached puberty and moved to Memphis, girls started paying more and more attention to him. The one girl that he wanted to look in his direction never did though. His sultry voice, long eyelashes, and crooked smile never worked on you. Good lord, had he tried it time and time again, but you never acted interested. Despite the dull ache of rejection that Elvis always felt in your presence, he never could shake you. Not that he wanted to. You were just as much family to him as his own parents were, what with the fact that you two had always been connected at the hip. He couldn’t go a single day without phoning you up, the two of you chatting excitedly about your latest Beale Street shenanigans. 

His love and attraction for you never dimmed, and his eyes never strayed. Elvis was positive that you were the girl that he was supposed to marry. . . but he knew that you didn’t feel the same way. He smoothed a few stray pieces of ebony hair back into place, chewing nervously at the inside of his cheek. “Sure, sure. You only did what you thought was right.” He moved to stand in the doorway of his room, pressing his hip against the wooden frame. “But mama?” She was anxiously setting the table, and stopped what she was doing so that she could meet his gaze. 

“You can’t force her to feel somethin’ that she doesn’t, alright? I’m perfectly fine with just bein’ her friend.” That was a lie. The words burned his tongue the second that he said them, but he refused to take back the statement. He wasn’t going to say anything to you that might potentially push you away. He’d rather not have you romantically than not have you at all. Elvis was sure that he might just keel over if you never spoke to him again. The remorseful look on his mother’s face didn’t escape him, but he made the decision to ignore it. He didn't want anybody's pity. Not right now, at least. You’d be here any second, and the last thing he needed was to start moping around. You would be sure to notice. 

He wiped his sweaty palms on his slacks, clearing his throat as he straightened out his shoulders. “Now what can I do to help, satnin?” He cooed to his mother, watching the way the nervousness dissipated from her expression. 

He was helping to lay out the silverware, but paused as there was a knock on the door. “That must be our girl. Elvis, how ‘bout you get that?” Vernon spoke from the kitchen, probably busy sneaking a few spoonfuls of his mother’s famous ambrosia salad, which she would be sure to notice. His father would be getting an earful about it later. 

The man was at the door in the blink of an eye, his long legs quickly stalking across the small home. He ripped the door open with a wide smile, eager to see you after the few days that you two had been apart. You were like a drug to him- at this point he couldn’t go too long without you, not without suffering withdrawals. You blinked in shock, a few strands of your bangs fluttering with how violently he had ripped the damn thing open. 

Standing in front of you was a very eager looking Elvis, his plush pink lips upturned into his signature smile. Judging by the way you were quick to step into the house and wrap your arms around him, he could tell that you were excited to see him as well. “That was the longest trip of my life.” You sighed against his chest, giving him one last squeeze before letting him go. He found it hard to speak for a few seconds, so he decided to nod his agreement. You and your family had taken a last minute vacation to Cherokee Lake Beach, deciding that the summer break would be a better time than ever to celebrate your father’s recent promotion. Last night had been your first day back, but you had claimed to be too tired for a visit, so Elvis made do with the half hour phone call you made to him. 

Gladys had been lucky enough to bump into your dad after the week long vacation, which was how he had ended up in this mess. Elvis was too mortified to ask about all of the details, knowing that his loud mouthed mother probably gushed to the middle aged man about her son’s private thoughts and feelings. You were dolled up, which wasn’t completely unusual. You always went out of your way to look pretty- but you had even dusted your wide doe-like eyes with a shimmery shadow. Your cheeks were naturally flushed, your skin glowing after the days of soaking up the sun. He was taken aback by your beauty. So much so that he just stood there, his blue eyes half lidded as he took you in. For a moment neither of you spoke. You merely stared at one another, basking in each other’s presence. That was until Vernon spoke, that is. 

“Gladys cooked you a welcome home feast, darlin’. I hope you’re hungry.” Elvis could have cursed at his father, your beautiful eyes leaving his face and instead turning in the direction of the kitchen. 

Your lips moved up into a lazy smile, and soon you were moving closer to Vernon, wrapping your arms around him quickly as the two of you exchanged your hellos. He gave the top of your head a quick kiss before letting you go. Gladys was next, moving from the kitchen so that she could wrap you up in one of her usual bear hugs. She peppered your cheek with kisses, rubbing your arm up and down when she pulled away so that she could get a good look at you. “Why, look at you!” She purred, giving you a once over. “You look beautiful, y/n.” 

And you did. Then again, Elvis couldn’t even remember a time when he hadn’t thought you looked gorgeous. Whether you were stumbling out of your room after a long night's rest, sleep caked in your eyes and your hair sticking up on end, or as sick as a dog- Elvis always found you gorgeous. He was smitten to the point of being lovesick for crying out loud. 

“Did you make the ambrosia salad?” He heard you ask from the kitchen, your small frame disappearing into the tiny space. You and his mother always got along like two peas in a pod, but he couldn’t help but glare after his mother who had stolen you away from him so soon into the visit. 

Vernon took it as his opportunity to move towards the dining room table, taking his seat. Elvis hesitantly followed suit, nervously looking down at his shirt one last time, attempting to brush out a wrinkle with his hands, his silver watch jingling softly with the movement. “Son,” His father kept his voice low, leaning forward on his elbows. “Your mother and I are goin’ to watch a movie together once we’re through with eatin’.” Elvis’s eyes furrowed in confusion, but he nodded his head anyway. “What movie are we seein’?” It wasn’t like his father to go to the movies. His parents never spent money on frivolous things like the cinema. Vernon was quick to shake his head, reaching into his pocket to show him just two tickets. “I just thought that you and y/n might like some time to yourselves tonight.” Elvis had to pinch his nose to keep from exploding, his cheeks hot with both anger and embarrassment. Now how the hell was he supposed to explain all of this to you? “Daddy- you’re just as bad as mama is!” He whisper-yelled. Before he had time to scold his father any further, his two girls emerged from the kitchen, arms full of serving dishes. 

Warm biscuits, mashed potatoes with gravy made from drippings, green beans and hamburger steaks. His mother really had gone out for your long overdue return to the presley household. You sat next to Elvis wordlessly, and when he turned to face you he could tell that your cheeks were a little pinker than they had been before. He blinked a few times, but settled further into his seat, grabbing the linen napkin off of the table so that he could put it on his lap. The four of you all joined hands, your mother insistent that you all say grace before she began putting heaping servings on to everyone’s plate. 

“So? How was the lake, y/n? I’m sure you and your family had quite the time down there.” Vernon was quick to engage you in conversation. 

Your arm brushed against Elvis’s side every time you moved your fork around on the plate, and each time his stomach did a flip. He found it hard to even focus on eating, so he just moved his food around from one spot to the other, hoping that his mother wouldn’t notice his lack of appetite. If she did, she didn’t comment on it. Instead she was too focused on her role as “matchmaker”. 

“It was wonderful! I got to teach my baby cousin how to swim while we were down there.” Imagining you carefully taking care of your aunt Valerie’s son made his heart seize up. Elvis had always wanted children, and lots of them. He saw how it had completed his own mother and father’s lives, and he wanted that for himself. His career had steadily been taking off, and though he hadn’t really gotten his big break yet, his single ‘That’s Alright’ was doing pretty well. They had just played it on the KWAM radio station the other night, and he had quite literally jumped for joy. Once he was settled enough in his career, he wanted to start a family and get married. Hopefully by some time next year, he might be far enough ahead in his life where that could be something to seriously think about. That is. . . if you ever returned the sentiment. His mother seemed to be thinking the same thing, because her eyes softened. 

“You’d make a mighty fine mama someday. I know you wanted to go to college once your younger sister graduates high school, but I’d hope you’d be thinkin’ ‘bout marriage too right around that time.” Elvis widened his eyes at his mother, his mouth parting in shock at her boldness. 

Your cheeks heated up all over again, but you slowly nodded your head. “I’d like to be able to support my parents someday, which was why I wanted to go and get my education. I do want a family someday though. . . It just depends.” Your southern drawl was as sweet as sugar. Your voice has always been one of the many sources of Elvis’s weak spots for you. He glanced over, catching the way you were looking at him out of the corner of your eye. He swallowed thickly, filling his fork with mashed potatoes so that he could keep himself busy. 

Gladys hummed her approval, but continued to hone in on the subject. Elvis knew that this was going to be a shit show. . . but it was almost like the woman was going out of her way to embarrass him. “Elvis has always wanted a family, ever since he was a little boy. Isn’t that right, baby?” He nearly choked on his food, covering his mouth with his hand as he cleared his throat. You seemed to notice the panic on his face, because you were quick to hand him his glass of sweet tea. He gulped it back appreciatively. 

“The both of you are quite the lookers. If you two ever had any youngins, they’d be models.” It was your turn to choke on your food, narrowly avoiding getting a green bean stuck in your windpipe. Elvis reached out, giving your back a few pats before glaring at his mother. 

“Mama! That’s enough, ya hear? Give it a rest.” He spoke through clenched teeth, shaking his head in disbelief. To say that he was mortified would be an understatement. He knew that the two of you were in for a treat the second that his mother had practically skipped home last night to tell him the news, but god damn it this was horrifying. He was too scared to even look in your direction, fully convinced that the second his parents left the house you would be sure to reject him. It would be brutal, and he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to survive it. 

“I was just tryin’ to help-” Gladys started to mumble, but Elvis stood up from the table, the chair loudly scraping against the wooden floors. He tossed his napkin down onto his plate, staring the woman down. 

“Daddy, don’t you think the two of you should start headin’ to the theater? Wouldn’t want ya to be late.” His low voice was thick with humiliation, his lush lashes casting shadows on his cheeks as he turned his attention to his father. The man quickly nodded, standing up so that he could grab Gladys by the arm. “You’re right, son. Come on, dollface. Let’s get goin’.” 

Elvis could tell that his mother was starting to realize the embarrassment she had caused. She was damn near tears as she gave her son a soft pat on the back, and for once in his life he didn’t pay any mind to it. Elvis was a mama’s boy, and proud of it. He had taken care of his parents all of his life, both financially and emotionally. The only thing he asked for was privacy every now and again, because he had always been careful around you for a reason. Losing you would kill him. He’d be absolutely gutted. He shoved his hand into his pocket as the front door closed behind his parents, his sharp jawline ticking as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. He was staring absentmindedly at the table, his mind flying at a mile a minute as he tried to come up with something to say to you. Anything to fix whatever the hell his mother just did. 

Gladys Love Presley might as well have shouted from the rooftop that her son was in love with you. She had just hammered that final nail into his coffin. There was no getting out of this one. Over the many years that the two of you had known each other, he had slipped up on numerous occasions. Just two years ago he had tried to kiss you at a party, and when you had leaned away he had feigned drunkenness when in actuality the man had barely had a drop to drink the entire night. This was worse somehow. He could feel the tension in the air so thick that he could barely breathe. 

“Well, now ya know.” He threw his hands up, his heart pounding with nervousness or anger- he just didn’t know anymore. He couldn’t differentiate between the tsunami of emotions that were washing over him. You kept silent, but he could feel the weight of your gaze. He swallowed thickly, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. “I was hopin’ she wouldn’t be so obvious for once in her god damned life.” He moved away from the table, pacing back and forth in the living room. 

“Elvis, I’m not up-” “Just let me talk, okay? I at least want you to hear it from my mouth and not hers. She’s spoken for me my entire life,” He motioned towards the door, tapping his foot angrily. “So I don’t know why I’m shocked.” 

You bit your own lips to keep them from quivering, and he watched you distractedly for a few more seconds before finally taking a deep breath, running his large hands over his face. “I’ve never been able to get you off of my mind. You ran into me in the hallway on our first day of school, do ya remember that?” Despite his darkcast mood, he couldn’t help but smile at the memory. “You were wearin’ that pink gingham dress? The one your mama forced you to wear. . . and I thought that you were the most beautiful girl in the world. You smelled like gardenias, and were always eating peaches with your packed lunches. You were mean to every boy that ever approached you- but not me.” He shook his head, his voice thick as he remembered the first time he ever saw you. “You were a baby faced daydream of a girl, and I’ve never been able to get enough of you. I never will.” 

Elvis didn’t want to look at you for too long. He could tell by your expression that you were close to tears. He was neck deep into the confession now, and he didn’t want to leave anything out. He had been bursting at the seams for years. Bursting with love, and it felt good to get it all off of his chest. Damn good. 

“I don’t have eyes for anyone else. You asked me why I turned Dixie down last year when she asked me out, and it’s because you’ve blinded me. You’re so bright, I can’t see anyone else. I know you don’t feel the same way that I do. You’ve made it very clear over the years. . . but I just want you to know that I’m madly in love with you. My heart just aches. It’s disgustin’ how much I love you, really.” He laughed humorlessly, kicking his shoe against his mother’s rug. 

He could hear your soft hiccups from across the room, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to run to you and hold you, even for just a second, or if he wanted to find some means of escape. Either way, he had done it. There really wasn’t much else for him to say or do, other than just wait to hear what you had to say. He just hoped you’d be nice about it all. You were always kind to him, but maybe he had crossed a line. Maybe he had incurred your wrath somehow. 

He opened his arms out wide at his sides, chewing on the inside of his cheek before finally locking his eyes on you. “Go ahead. Get it over with, y/n.” He didn’t want to beat around the bush with the rejection. You needed to rip it off quickly like a band-aid.    

╚══•●•══╝

Your father had tried to emotionally prepare you for the night. He had accepted the invitation on your behalf, knowing everything that Gladys had in mind for the dinner. It was no secret to any of your family or close friends that you were in love with Elvis Presley. He was just as much a part of your everyday life as breathing was. The two of you had done everything together. From attending senior prom to getting drunk for the first time, most young adult milestones had been reached together, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Despite your unchanging feelings, you were no stranger to the way that other girls looked at Elvis. You’d have to be blind not to see how beautiful he was. From his sultry blue eyes framed by thick black lashes to his plush lips and perfectly-imperfect smile; Elvis was irresistible. Nobody would ever compare to his looks. And his voice? It was smooth and velvety like honey. You had stopped being nervous around him years ago, and instead suffered your crush internally. Whenever friends or family asked, you always brushed the topic off. Either telling them that you weren’t ready to tell him, or that you were certain that he didn’t feel the same. Either way, it wasn’t time. When was it ever going to be though? The older the two of you got, the more of your old friends from school started getting engaged or married. 

One day Elvis was bound to find someone worth proposing to. One day you’d have to be forthright with him and your feelings. 

Elvis had always turned girls down, and you had gotten too comfortable with that fact. One day the right girl was bound to ask him out, and for once he wouldn’t say no. You’d be left in the dust. So when your father came bounding into the house, his eyes alight with excitement, you couldn’t see what there was to be so happy about. 

“Elvis has something he wants to tell you tomorrow night. Gladys wanted me to make sure you’re at their house for supper.” Your stomach had dropped. What was so exciting? The big news could be a handful of things: he finally found a worthwhile person to manage him, he got a well paying gig, his career was beginning to take off. All you could think about was the fact that he could be telling you that he finally got himself a girl. All night you had practiced your smile in front of the mirror. As you sat there at your vanity, your pink lips pulled back in a wide grin, you couldn’t wipe the sadness from your eyes. Tomorrow was going to be the worst day of your life, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. It was like knowing you were about to get in a car accident, but you were unable to pull over to the side of the road. You just had to keep driving, hands glued to the steering wheel and foot nailed to the gas pedal. 

You had taken extra care in your appearance that night, even going as far as to apply a soft pink eyeshadow to your lids. If you were going to get your heart broken you at least wanted to look pretty. 

Elvis always looked at you with kind eyes, but the way that he had opened the door that night had left you stunned into silence. Your chest burned like it was on fire. The longer you looked at him, the more in love you fell. Right when you thought that you couldn’t love the boy any more- it was impossible- he would look at you like that. You had quickly searched the living room for any sign of another girl, but found none. The only purse to be seen was Gladys’, and the middle aged woman’s voice was the only one to be heard. 

It wasn’t until Gladys had you cornered in the kitchen that you finally clued in that she had schemed something up for the two of you. Right as you were grabbing all the food that you could fit in your arms, the woman leaned in close, her eyes twinkling. “You’d make the perfect daughter in-law.”  If Elvis and Vernon had noticed the way your face had flushed a bright red, neither of them commented on it. 

Gladys only continued throughout the night, driving the point home. If the news wasn’t about him having a girlfriend, then what could it possibly be? He hadn’t said anything about his singing yet. The more aggravated and embarrassed Elvis became throughout the dinner, the more confused you became. 

It wasn’t until Elvis mentioned his parent’s surprise movie date that it all finally clicked. 

You’d never seen the man get so upset with his mother before. Sure, she could get a bit overbearing and annoying at times, but he had more patience than anyone else you’d ever met before. He treated his parents like they were his own children, and never minded their meddling before now. His cheeks were red with anger, a few pieces of black hair falling out of place as he began to pace in the living room. They hung in his eyes, bouncing a bit with his constant movement. “Elvis, I’m not up-” You wanted to let him know that you weren’t upset with him or his mother, but he cut you off before you could get the words out. 

You didn’t know that you were holding your breath until you felt as though you were going to faint. You sucked in a deep breath, watching him with wide, teary eyes once he finally turned to face you. He had always been a poet, in his own right. He wrote beautiful songs, but you never had prepared yourself for such sugar-coated words to be spoken to you so directly like this. You weren’t sure what to say. How in the world were you ever supposed to say anything half as romantic and as beautiful as that, especially in the heat of the moment like this? You sniffled softly, wiping at your tear stained cheeks before you stood up on shaky legs. His chest was rising and falling in quick succession, so despite his calm expression, you could tell that he was panicking. He had never been so vulnerable like this in front of you. 

You began making your way up to him, your bottom lip quivering as you took in his expression. He noticed your tears, his adams apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. “It’s alright, sweetheart. Just say what you need to say.” He assured you, his arms dropping back down to his sides. It was crazy, but he really thought that you were about to turn down his affections. There wasn’t even a shred of hope in his bright blue eyes. 

“You’re either blind,” Your voice shook as you spoke, but you kept going. “Or an idiot, EP.” His eyebrows slowly began to furrow in confusion. He licked his dry lips before opening his mouth. “You don’t have to insult me too, ya know. Jesus.” His eyes began filling with tears, and that was all it took. 

You couldn’t take it anymore. Seeing his face contorted with pain, his eyes so very blue and so very sad- it pushed you over the edge. You grabbed the front of his shirt, yanking him down to your height. Your movement was so rough and jerky that one of the buttons even flew off, but you paid it no mind. There was no time for apologies. 

His lips felt full and plush against your own, albeit a little chapped from the way he had been nervously chewing them during dinner. You had been kissed, but only once before. It had been a horrible slobbery mess, and even though Elvis had laughed at your expense all those years ago, you could tell that he was upset. Now you recognized it as jealousy. 

You poured everything you could into that kiss, your hands moving up to cup his cheeks and hold him in place as you slowly moved your lips against his, the tip of your tongue gently lapping against his bottom lip. You were easing him into it, and judging by his hands that shakily wrapped around your waist, he was terrified shitless. Scared or not, he was excited out of his mind to finally kiss you. Taste you. His unsure hands tightened their hold, his large hand sliding up from your hip to your back, pressing you flush against him. Your breasts were pressed against his chest, and the second that it registered to Elvis, he gasped against your lips. 

“I don’t know what I’m doin'.” He mumbled shyly against your mouth, his hot breath fanning over your face. You allowed your eyes to flutter open, your thumbs brushing against his warm cheeks. He’d never looked more beautiful than he did right then. His eyes were half lidded and laden with a lust that he still didn’t quite understand. His cheeks were flushed, and as you pulled back a little more so that you could get a better look at him, his lips looked pink and kissed. You breath locked up in your chest as you noticed his eyes still looked watery. You moved your hand upwards, gathering up one of the unshed tears that had become tangled in his thick lower lashes. “I don’t either.” You admitted with a smile. He chuckled, his hand moving further up your back so that he could gently cup the back of your neck. “Let’s learn together.” You weren’t sure when you had gotten so bold, but it was worth it to see his reaction. 

He hurriedly pressed his lips against yours, the both of you slowly moving backwards. Neither of you were sure where you were trying to go, but you just knew that you needed to get closer somehow. One of your hands moved from his face as you felt something pressing against your lower back, moving to try and blindly figure out just what it was. Elvis didn’t need to open his eyes to know that the two of you had ended up back in the dining room. He wordlessly bent down, placing his hands at the back of your thighs so that he could sit you down on the table. It was his turn to run his tongue along your bottom lip, and you wasted no time granting him access. The two of you explored each other’s mouths tentatively at first, but the more time went on, the more hungry the both of you became. He couldn’t get enough of you. His hands shook with the weight of his neediness, his hands moving from your neck, to your hair, grabbing a fistful as he held you more firmly against him. The two of you had fallen into a pattern, and in a matter of seconds the kiss no longer felt inexperienced. The both of you moved your lips against one another as if you could somehow devour the other. You parted for a second so that you could take a few deep breaths, and Elvis took that time to press his lips against your chin, your cheek, and down your neck. 

You spread your legs so that he could step between them, your hands shaking as they gripped at the fabric of his cotton shirt. It felt like every single nerve ending was on fire. Anywhere he touched felt like someone was holding a flame to it. His lips pressed against the hollow of your throat, his needy hands moving over your thighs, up your stomach, and stopping just below the swell of your breasts. His thumbs gently dug into the soft skin there, but it wasn’t enough for you. “For the love of god, touch me.” Your voice sounded foreign to your own ears. Elvis let out a loud groan against your skin, his hands moving up to cup you through the bodice of your dress. 

Your breasts felt heavy with want, even in his hands. He added pressure, his ring and middle finger pressing against your hardening nipples. You let out a loud yelp, your hips bucking on their own accord. Elvis’s hips jerked forward as he felt your core brush against his own, ripping his face out of your neck so that he could stare down at you with wide eyes. His pupils were completely blown out, his eyes more black than blue at this point. The noise you had let out as his hips moved against yours had been sinful. Never in your life had anything even remotely similar left your lips. He wanted to see what he was doing to you, so he moved his hips again but slower this time. Your jaw dropped, your lips parting as you felt him pressing against you. The movement directly stimulated your clit, and you couldn’t help but jerk against him slightly. It felt too good. 

It was almost too much, but still not enough, all at the same time. Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared up at him, concentrating hard on not making a sound. You weren’t sure why but it was embarrassing. Elvis’s lips also parted as he repeated the action, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment before he licked his lips, his arm wrapping around you so that he could get a better angle. He pressed against you harder, moving his head down to press a kiss against your top lip. “Make that sound again for me, baby. Please.” He sounded so good when he was begging for your validation. He wanted to know that he was making you feel good. He wanted to know that he was doing right by you, and god was he. Your eyes nearly rolled back at the mere sound of his voice, so deep it was practically a hum. 

His hand lowered from your back to your bottom, and he gripped hard, physically moving you against him in time with his hips. You moaned so loudly you could feel the sound reverberating in your chest. “Oh fuck.” You distantly heard him curse, but you were too focused on what he was doing to you to really understand what was going on around you. Your hands flew to his shirt, your fingers fumbling as they tried to undo the buttons. It must have been taking too long, because Elvis’s hands moved to cover yours. “J-Just rip-” He gently brushed your hands away gripping the front of his shirt with shaky hands. He moved his mouth down to yours, pressing a wet kiss to your lips. “Rip it.” He was breathless as he tugged at the shirt, the buttons popping off with small snapping sounds. He must have decided that unbuttoning the shirt would have taken too long, because the second that he felt air against his chest he moved your hands towards him, wordlessly begging you to feel him. You swallowed back his hot pants as he breathed against your lips, your hands moving against his soft skin. Your small hands brushed against the expanse of his chest, starting just above his belly button and moving upwards. The tips of your nails gently scraped against his nipples, and he jerked forward, letting out a small hiss. “I’m sorry.” You were quick to apologize, but he shook his head, pressing his forehead against yours as he searched your eyes. “I-I liked it.” 

Your eyelashes fluttered as you moved your hands up and over his shoulders. Despite his skinny frame, he was toned. You pulled away from his face, smiling softly as he tried to follow you, not wanting to be parted from you for even a second. You let your eyes brush over his chest, moving the shirt down his shoulders so that you could get your fill. For a second, even through the haze of lust, Elvis’s eyes flashed with uncertainty as he watched you take him all in. Sure, it was just his chest, but for a second he was scared that he might be too scrawny for your tastes. The second that your eyes finally met his, all doubts flew right out the window. He wet his lips as he took in your expression, his heart hammering in his chest. Never in his life had he ever seen a more beautiful girl. This look- this expression- was all for him. If he had anything to say about it, no one else would ever see you in this position. 

You were just his. All his. You knew it, and now he knew it too. “I love you.” His voice was so quiet that you barely heard it, and suddenly he had you laid out on the table, moving to push plates and silverware down or off the table- he didn’t care. You laughed against his mouth as a glass cup filled with tea shattered on the floor next to him. “Damn it.” He cursed with a smile, quickly going back to having his fill of your lips. His hands gently moved from the back of your knees to your thighs, his fingers brushing against your soft skin. 

He was damn near petting you, groaning into your mouth as he pressed himself flush against your core. You could feel him better at this angle, your eyes flying open to stare at the ceiling for a few seconds before squeezing closed. He must have been painfully hard, and part of you were scared that if it already felt this good, that you might never want to stop. You loved him so much it was physically beginning to hurt. Never in your life did you ever want to be parted from this boy. Not even for a second. You opened your eyes again as his tongue pressed against yours, watching his eyelashes flutter as he kissed you. The ceiling light in the dining room hung directly overhead, looking more like a halo than anything to your tear blurred eyes. “I love you.” Elvis pulled away then, bracing one arm against the wooden table as he stared down at you, trying to decide if he had really heard you say that to him. He blinked a few times before he melted against you, burying his head in the crook of your neck. He pressed kisses against the flushed skin there. “Say it again.” 

“I love you.” His hands had snaked under your back then, lifting you up and off of the table. He backed up and out of the room, giving your small form a small squeeze. “Again.” 

“I love you.” He was walking blindly through the house, holding one arm against the nearest wall so that he could feel for the doorway. He peeked his eyes up from your shoulder, making the final couple of steps into his bedroom. He closed the door with his foot, shuffling over towards the bed. “Again.” He sounded breathless now, his voice thick with emotion. 

“Oh god, do I love you.” He placed a knee on the bed, gently setting you down before crawling over your form. His bottom lip quivered as he sat up on his knees, shrugging his shirt off of his shoulders. His hands moved to his belt, but he stopped himself. “I don’t want ya to feel pressured. How far were you wantin’ to go?” You knew that all you had to do was say the word and that Elvis would have stopped at any point. You were nervous, admittedly so, but you could tell that he was just as scared, if not maybe a little more so. The both of you seemed to want the same thing though. The both of you had already gone too far to back down now. You wanted him to be inside of you. Your body was humming with need at this point, the constant touches to your core working you up to the point of damn near frenzy. You were past the point of being nervous of what you were saying to him. You were usually careful with your words, but any and all shame had flown out of your body the second his lips had made contact with your neck. “I want you inside of me. Right now.” 

He let out a small whimper, his hands moving as quickly as they physically could as he removed his belt, tossing it onto the floor and doing the same thing with his pants. You were already sitting up, your hands moving to the zipper of your dress. You shrugged it off of you, kicking it down to the foot of the bed once it was off of you. You shivered as the cool air hit your skin, but Elvis was on you in the blink of an eye, his strong arms wrapping tightly around you, his hips nestling in between your legs. You could tell by the way he was staring at you that he truly liked what he was seeing. 

Elvis always looked at you with honest eyes, soft and kind for you always. But he was staring at you now like you were the most precious thing he had ever laid eyes on, and you were. He loved you. Every inch of you. He’d loved you since your embarrassing high school years, and over time the feelings had only managed to grow. They deepened with your bond, and at this point he was sure that he couldn’t love you any more than he already did. There was just no possible way. 

He pressed kiss after kiss against your lips, his hand moving up your thigh slowly, as if he were testing the waters. He was giving you a chance to back out. You didn’t say a word. His fingers finally brushed against you, gathering up a bit of your slick before gently moving upwards, continuing his exploration. The second his fingers brushed against your clit, you couldn’t hold back your obscene moan. Elvis was a fast learner, repeating the motion again and again as he pressed his finger against you in circular motions. Your body’s natural instincts took over, your hips rocking back and forth against your hands as he continued to bury his hand in between your legs. You could feel his cock against your inner thigh, completely unclothed now. Your hands moved down to feel him, but his free hand stopped you before you could. “I wanna make you feel good.” He said simply. Elvis’s blue eyes pinned you down, watching as you panted and writhed beneath him. After some time he sped up his ministrations, which elicited even more ungodly sounds from you. He ate it all up like a man starved, his jaw slack, his lips swollen from the constant kissing. You could feel yourself starting to come undone, your head pressed against the mattress. Your breathing sped up, and your heart rate with it. Elvis could tell that you were about to climax. He might have been a virgin, but that didn’t mean he was an idiot. Men often had no filter, and not all of his friends were as inexperienced as he was. 

He repositioned his fingers, moving so that his thumb was pressed against your clit, moving to bury two of his fingers into your cunt. You yelped in surprise, but found that it wasn’t uncomfortable like you once thought it might be. Your hands gripped his biceps, feeling the muscle flex under your palm as he continued his movement. You felt something building up in your abdomen, your eyes beginning to fill with tears as the pleasure reached its peak. 

“That’s it, baby.” Elvis mumbled, feeling you flutter around his fingers, watching your face closely as you threw back your head, your body quivering as he continued to ride you through your orgasm. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears, and for a second you swore that you had gone blind, your vision going white. After a few seconds you finally sucked in a deep breath, Elvis growling low in his chest as you tried to back away from him. The pleasure was getting to be too much. “Please,” You begged breathlessly, blinking back tears. “I need you.” You were beginning to get overstimulated, but the second that Elvis removed his fingers you felt the need to cry out. You felt so empty. 

You gripped at him wildly, your nails digging into his skin as he reached down, wrapping his large hand around his cock. You finally took the opportunity to look down at him, having not gotten a good look at him earlier. What you had felt and what you were now seeing were two completely different things. Sure, you’d never actually seen anyone’s dick before, but this exceeded your expectations. Even compared to his large hands, the man was huge. You swallowed thickly, leaning up slightly so that you could press your forehead against his. 

His head was an angry pink, begging to be touched in some way. Precum beaded down the entire length of him, the man dripping with need. Elvis watched you, trying to decipher your expression. Once he was positive that you had gotten a good look at him, he wasted no more time. He pressed his head against your entrance, both his own precum and your slick making it easy for him to press his way in. You were so turned on- so ready- that your body practically sucked him in. 

Elvis’s breathing was so loud that you could hear it, his chest rising and falling wildly. He was fighting off his base urges, wanting nothing more than to press all the way in and fuck you into the mattress. You could see the pulse in his neck, thumping away wildly as he stared down at you. Once he was sure that you were fine he pressed in further, repeating the process until he was fully sheathed inside of you. Despite the fact that your orgasm had warmed you up for what was to come, it did very little to spare you the pain. It was sharp and sudden, but dissipated just as quickly as it came. Elvis let you cling to him and didn’t say a word when your nails dug in a little too deep for comfort. His free hand cupped your cheek, shushing your soft whimpers and kissing your cheeks. You could feel him quivering against you, as if the emotions and sensations were too much for him to handle. He only began to move once he was positive that you were alright, pressing his forehead against yours as he watched you closely. His eyelashes brushed against yours when his eyes fluttered, his breath shuttering across your lips. His hips moved slowly at first, his moans quiet and under his breath. The second that you raked your nails down his back, letting out a moan of your own, he was gone. It was almost as though he just snapped. 

He sat up, pressing your back into the mattress as his hands moved to your hips. The different angle caused him to press against your cervix, and for a second it was painful. You cried out, gripping the comforter tightly in your hands as he continued to fuck into you. His moans turned to grunts, and then into growls. They rumbled low in his throat, the sound doing dangerous things to you. His jaw ticked as he watched you. He loved the way that your back arched, watching your breasts as they bounced with his frenzied movements. Elvis might not have known what he was doing, but he was going off of pure animalistic instinct. Never in all of his life did he think anything could feel this good. Your walls were soft and velvety, and pressed tight tight tight against him. If he had thought that he couldn’t live without you before, now he was certain. Elvis could have eaten you alive. 

His hips continued their assault as one of his hands moved back down to your core, pressing against that same spot that caused you so much pleasure before. Your walls instantly tightened around him, causing him to cry out at the sudden wave of pleasure. He was close, and he was positive that no matter what he did, he wasn’t going to last long. He wanted to do whatever he could to make you cum right along with him. His fingers moved against her wet core along with his thrusts, the two feelings combined almost too much for you to wrap your brain around. You could feel him everywhere. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, and yet you couldn’t stop shivering. “Please, please, please.” You weren’t even sure what you were begging for, just that you wanted something. No- you needed something. 

“I wanna cum inside.” Elvis’s voice was shaky from exertion, a thin sheen on his chest and beading on his brow. You were too blissed out to think too hard about whatever consequences that might have. All you knew was that you wanted more. Anything that he could give you of himself, you wanted it. You nodded quickly, moving your hips against his the best that you could. You could feel your own climax boring down on you like a weight, your walls already beginning to flutter around him. He leaned his torso over yours, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was all tongue and teeth. His lips muffled your cries of pleasure as you came and came hard. He followed close behind you, rutting into you a few more times before he broke the kiss so that he could press his face against your throat. You jumped slightly at the sudden warmth that began to pool in your abdomen. His hips pumped in and out of you every few seconds, his arms wrapped tightly around you. You were starting to come down from your high, but you still managed to lazily move your hips against his, wanting all of it. Every last drop. You didn’t want any of it to go to waste. Not when it could be filling you up. 

He peppered your face with soft kisses, and it wasn’t until he pulled away that you realized that he must have been crying at some point, his eyes slightly red and his cheeks wet. “I love you.” You didn’t need to be assured, but at this point he was saying it just to say it. Just because he could. “My bestest girl.” He smiled down at you, rubbing small circles into your flushed cheeks with his thumb. 

You hummed lazily, finding it hard to keep your eyes open for too long. Elvis appeared to be wide awake, leaning his head against his hand as stared at you. After a few more seconds he slowly pulled out of you, and you couldn’t help but wince as you felt liquid leaking out of you. He reached down, using his ruined shirt to carefully wipe you up. He took his time, making sure that you were alright before pulling the comforter up and around you. “I’m goin’ to go get somethin’ to drink, alright?” He slipped his trousers back on, closing the door behind him as he stepped out of the room. Distantly you heard the front door open, Gladys and Vernon’s voices filling the small home. 

“Oh. . . did y/n leave already?” There was an awkward silence before you could hear the sink turn on in the kitchen. It only took the middle aged woman a few seconds to notice the broken glass. “What in the sam hell happened in here? Elvis Aaron Presley- you broke one of my good cups!” There was a mumbled sorry and the sound of shattered glass being tossed into the metal garbage bin. You waited with bated breath for him to return, pulling the blanket further up around yourself just in case someone walked in. “Gladys. . . baby. . . let’s go and head to our room, alright? I think y/n’s still here, darlin’.” It was obvious that Vernon had clued in on what happened immediately. You could hear the discomfort in his voice as he spoke. “She’s here and you’re lookin’ like that? Put on a shirt. . . “ Her voice trailed off, and for a second you were sure that both you and Elvis were goners. “So does this mean you two are goin’ steady? Really? Oh, Elvis. . . I’m so happy for you.” She lowered her voice in the hopes that you might not hear her, but her voice was naturally loud. “Thank you mama. Do you mind ringin’ up her folks and lettin’ them know she’ll be staying the night? I’ll sleep on the couch if need be-” You had to cover your mouth to stifle a laugh. Well, it was moot-point now. Gladys seemed to think the same thing. “Her father and I were just sayin’ yesterday how badly we wanted to see you two together. They’ll be over the moon. Head to bed now, alright? I’ll call her mama right now.” 

Elvis slipped into the room a second later, handing you a glass of water that you happily gulped down. He flicked the light off, crawling into bed beside you. “I thought she was going to kill me.” You could hear the smile in his voice. You placed the glass down on the bedside table, laying back against the pillows. Elvis moved to lay on his side, nuzzling his face into your hair. “Now they’ll be gunnin’ for us to get engaged. I’ll never hear the end of it at home.” Your mother was already quite the nag. She’d be relentless when you got home tomorrow. “Give me a month.” He mumbled sleepily, moving to lace his fingers with yours. You closed your eyes tightly, your cheeks flushing all over again. “A whole month? Really?” You teased quietly. He chuckled softly, placing a warm kiss against your shoulder before he fully settled into the mattress.

 “Fine. A week.” And it didn’t sound like he was joking, either. 

want to continue reading this story? check out part two.

#austin butler #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #austin butler elvis #elvis #austin butler smut #baz luhrmann elvis #elvis presley smut #austin butler x reader #austin!elvis x reader #elvis 2022 #baz luhrmann #austin butler fanfic #foreverdolly #smut #imagine #elvis presley imagine #elvis x reader #elvis movie

[eywahasheardyou]

One Last Promise

Pairings: Sully Family x Reader, Jake Sully x Daughter! Reader

Wordcount: 1.3k words

They say when you have finished your purpose in the living world, Eywa will welcome you back to where you once came. From her loving embrace to that of a mother, awaiting for her child to come back to her once their day was over and the dusk sets.

Your father, the Toruk Makto, the leader of your clan, had always told you that death takes everyone without even a warning. May it be a toddling child or a withering old man. Death doesn’t discriminate between the sinners and the saints, he would always say. And when he repeats that phrase, he had a wistful look in his eyes, lips pressed firmly against each other as he clutched the metal pendant that you were once told belonged to his brother.

You knew death would come for you sooner or later. The looming threat of it would often cross your mind once in a while but you knew it was always in your father’s. A hardened soldier like him had crossed death’s path, and death would greet him. Through the empty eyes of his fallen comrades. It’ll come knocking, and you’d have no choice but to answer. Your father just wanted to shield you from that. From the horrors of war. That was what you kept telling yourself anyway as you had watched him become hardened by countless battles, your older brothers being the brunt of his fears of losing the one thing he had worked so hard to get. A family. One that was his to protect.

You gazed at your father’s still form, his wrinkled face scrunched up as tears rolled down his cheeks, desperately trying to cover the wound that tainted your blue skin crimson. His hands were shaky, you could feel it against your skin as he pressed his hands on your chest, desperately putting pressure on the wound that just didn't seem to run out of blood.

A cry escaped you and it took all of Jake’s strength to not pull away. This was saving you. He needed to do this. He needed to keep you alive.

“Daddy..?” You mustered up the strength to mumble, praying to Eywa to give you a few more moments surrounded by the warmth of your family. A warmth you knew deep down, you would never feel again.. not in this life anyway.

“I’m right here, baby girl. I’m right here..” Your lips weakly quirked up into a grin at the familiar pet name that you had once complained was childish.

Your ears twitched like they always did when your father called you that, it was almost always followed up with a scowl and a whine. But now that you are at death’s door steps, you can only smile.

You lifted your hand up to gently cup your father’s cheek, trying to remember the way his skin felt against your palm. You often described it as ‘prickly like a cactus’, a plant from earth your father described to you once. “Daddy.. I.. When ‘m gone.. y-you.. you go easy on the boys, okay? ‘S not their fault..” You could feel the iron on your tongue and you coughed, trying to breathe despite your lungs vehemently complaining. “Don’t you blame ‘em, daddy.. ‘m gonna be angry if you do..”

“Hey, hey look at me, look at daddy, babygirl.. you’re gonna be fine, okay? You’ll live, yeah? You’ll live.. we’re gonna go home after this. Back to Mo’at, okay? Back to the forest.” His large hand cupped your face, moving some stray hair strands.

Jake shook his head as he held you close, your life flashing in his eyes. His fondest memory of watching you claim your own ikran, one that closely resembled the one that he used to have and he firmly believed that your ikran was of Toruk’s own clutch. He flew with you that day, side by side as you soared through the heavens with cries of victory.

You had so much ahead of you. You were going to grow right in front of his very eyes, have so many adventures to go through, and when you’re old enough.. he could see being by your side as you’d introduce your other half. And he would play the part of the tough dad that wouldn’t give his daughter away but he knew deep down he’d be happy that you were happy.

And the promises of your future was slipping through his fingers.

As your skin grew cold and clammy, Jake realized that he would never see that. He would never see you live the life that you deserved. One that knew only of peace. And for once, the great Toruk Makto wept as he pulled you closer, cradling you in his arms as if it was the day Eywa blessed him and Neytiri with you all over again.

“Please, please..” He had begged, lifting his head up to look at the stars before his eyes flickered back to you. Eywa, oh eywa, please not his daughter. Not his little girl.

“Daddy.. p-promise me, please.. ‘s not their fault, daddy..” A gargled choke from your own blood made him hold you tighter, shaking his head as he heard your whimpers of pain. You mustered up your strength to say these words, knowing well that when you return to Eywa, your passing would devastate your family. You didn’t want your father to blame your big brothers for something they could not control.

“I promise, I promise.” He says quickly as he craned his head to look at you, blinking his eyes to get rid of the tears that blurred his vision. “You’re going to be okay, baby.” He refused to. He was begging, desperately pleading inwardly that Eywa would take him instead of you. “I’m.. I’m gonna pick you up, okay? Stay with me.” He carefully held you securely in his arms, looking over at Lo’ak and Neteyam, whose sullen expressions and once vibrant eyes became dull as tears rolled down their cheeks. Never did they think they would be in this situation, their hands stained with their baby sister’s blood.

“C’mon, Lo’ak.. N-Neteyam.. Help me out. We’re gonna take your sister back to the village...” He tried not to let his voice shake. He had to be strong. “Neteyam! Lo’ak! Please.. Help me..” He tried again, voice laced in desperation when the two had yet to move, their eyes never leaving your form.

Your gaze never left your father’s face, trying to memorize every inch of the man who had loved and took care of you. Not Toruk Makto. Not Jake Sully of Earth. But your father.

A soft smile graced your lips and suddenly all the pain left you as quick as it had come. Then there was peace.

It was Lo’ak who noticed your sudden silence and he was quick to grasp onto your hand. “[Name]..?” His brows furrowed at the coldness of your palm and he felt his throat go dry and the tears poured down his cheeks as he pressed his cheek against your palm, shaking his head as Neteyam joined him, sobbing as he held his brother close.

“[Y/N]… No, no, no. [Y/N]!” Neytiri shook you in your father’s arms, shaking her head as if in disbelief. A gut wrenching cry escaped your mother’s throat as her shaky hands roamed over your face, those eyes that used to look at her with such fondness and admiration had lost all it’s life.

Jake could feel the warmth of your body retreating, your limbs limp and your body pale. He tilted his head to the sky, asking the Great Mother why she would take his little girl. Why you? It should’ve been him. He dug his sharp fangs on his lip, biting back the cry of anguish that threatened to claw its way out of his throat, though it only increased the pressure in his chest and with one last look at your face, your dull eyes gazing at the sky, he let out a desperate cry. He cradled you to his chest, face pressed against your hair as he sobbed.

When eclipse broke, and the battle for Pandora had ended for now, your family sat on one of the rocky shores of Three Brothers’ Rock, holding one another close in this time of grief.

They mourned for the life you would’ve lived, mourned for what could’ve been, what would’ve been, and what should’ve been. They mourned you.

Author’s Notes: Inspired by @missroro ’s prompt. I hope I did it justice. I haven’t written in a year and my English is not very good, please excuse me for any grammar mistakes. Let me know what you think of this lil one shot! Kiveyame.

#avatar #avatar x you #avatar way of the water #avatar way of water #avatar way of the water x reader #jake sully #jake sully x daughter! reader #neteyam #neteyam sully #sully family #neytiri #lo’ak sully #lo’ak #jake sully fic #sully family x reader #atwow spoilers #atwow x you #atwow x reader #atwow #atwow fanfiction

[luv-elixir]

❧ Body Electric ☙

Stepfather Leon S. Kennedy x reader

Word count : 7.4K

18+ Content warnings : Stepcest, manipulation, power imbalance, naïve/insecure reader, age gap, corruption, c*m-fetish, slight size kink, slapping, spitting, degradation, stepdad!Leon, stepdaughter!reader, reader has a tiny electra complex. (Slight mentions of reader being verbally abused by mother along with mommy/daddy issues.) Porn with plot.

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION! I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THE ACTIONS WRITTEN BELOW; ALL THAT IS WRITTEN IS PURE FICTION AND FANTASY!

Summertime was always a weird time for you.

When you were a child, your parents would just send you off to a camp to avoid dealing with you for a while, and when you were sent back home, you’d hide in your room while they fought for hours on end.

Even after they got divorced, the arguments seemed to never end. A constant battle over who would have the responsibility of caring for you all summer finally being settled when your grandmother offered to take you in until the season was over.

Now, as a university student, you would be spending your summer at your mother and her new husband, Mr. Kennedy's, home.

Interactions with both your parents had been scarce when you started university. You simply just didn't have the time or energy for them to berate you with your hectic schedule. It was no surprise to hear your mother had been dating; with your father getting married a few years prior and her having a few boyfriends here and there, you couldn’t bring yourself to care about her love life. You did start caring when she told you she was engaged.

It came as a huge shock when you finally met the mystery man.

He was handsome.

Everything about him was striking; he was an Adonis, simply too beautiful to be human. So beautiful that you nearly forgot your mother was right there and that the only reason you met was because he was to marry her.

How could your mother draw a man like him into her iron-clad grip? He was charming, caring, attentive, conscientious, and frankly too good for a woman like her, or anyone for that matter. Leon Scott Kennedy was simply too good to be true.

You truly had no idea how they had gotten into a relationship. Hell, you didn't even know your mother wanted to get married again. It was all a huge question mark for you. The only thing you were sure of was his name, age, and your affinity for him.

The wedding happened exactly three months after you met. You knew it was wrong, but you couldn’t help the sinful thoughts you had as they married. He just looked so handsome in his suit that you couldn’t help but fantasize about his big hands touching you, ignoring the wedding band tying him to your mother.

Laying in bed that night, furiously rubbing your aching clit, you moaned his name and thought of how you wished he was yours instead of your mother's. But more importantly, you tried to pull your head out of the clouds and make yourself remember that it would never happen.

Little did you know that all those countless nights you spent fantasizing about him, he was thinking of you too. It was his fucking honeymoon and he couldn’t stop thinking of you. Jerking himself off, thinking of your alluring face and delicate body. He couldn’t resist using the image of a little beauty like yourself to get him off, even while the beauty’s mother slept right beside him…

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You are so fucking naive and clueless to not realize how obvious you were being with your crush on your stepfather. It was clear as day to any man who had ever been lusted over that you liked Leon more than a stepdaughter should.

Of course Leon knew; he knew from the moment he saw that shyness show up in your beautiful eyes when he first introduced himself that you had a crush, and damn, he is more than happy about it.

Every time his precious stepdaughter and his wife left home he would snoop through his sweet angel's room. It started out small—just quick peeks, leaving everything alone—but overtime it began to escalate.

Leon only does it because he cares; he wants to make sure his precious baby is happy and isn’t getting into any trouble. At least that was his justification. He knew you were quite a covert girl; being raised Catholic and raised by sanctimonious (hypocritical) parents, you were never one to step out of line, fearing the wrath of your parents. Being sent to an all-girls Catholic school, your interactions with boys and men had been few and limited; he was sure the only friends you had who were boys were your family members. You were hardly ever allowed to go out without the supervision of your mother, but it still didn’t hurt to check. After all, you are now one of his responsibilities.

When Leon would go through your drawers to see the clothes you hid from your mother that you bought at cheap second-hand stores, knowing that she would scream and berate you for owning a skirt that goes above the knee, he would imagine how beautiful you must look in them and how happy you must be wearing something you truly liked, even if you could only wear it in the safety of your room; it made his heart flutter.

His favorite thing to do in your room was to read your diaries. He thought it was so adorable how you kept every single one that you’ve ever had. It was a big invasion of privacy, but you didn’t even bother to hide your most recent one, and he just couldn’t resist. Reading them was exhilarating; learning more about you and what goes on in your little head made him feel closer to you. Leon just wants to know so he can protect you better, understand you better, and learn to love you better.

He thought it was adorable how you’d write about almost every interaction he’s ever had with you, like the time he bought you your favorite singer's vinyl records and a Polaroid camera after you asked your mother if you could buy them yourself a few days prior and she refused to let you. You jumped into his arms, hugging him with all your heart and giving him infinite ‘thank you so much, Mr. Kennedy’s." It was the touchiest you’ve ever been with him, and your perfume lingers on the shirt he has tucked away, refusing to wash your scent from it.

One of Leon’s favorite diary entries of yours was the one where you first met. He loved it so much that he snapped a photo of it just so he could read it whenever he wanted.

February 1st

I just got back from dinner with mom and her fiancé, Leon Kennedy <3 I called him Mr. Kennedy all night even though he insisted I call him Leon cause I got so nervous and just couldn’t look him in the eye. He was so freaking handsome, he has the prettiest eyes. I never thought a man could be so handsome. It’s not fair how mom has him, she doesn’t deserve him. Gosh he’s just so handsome, I wanted him to just take me in his arms and kiss me like in the movies !!! I hate that his heart belongs to mom, how come she gets to have a man like Leon instead of some ugly fat bald dude ?? I know it’s so wrong but I can’t help but like him, he was so nice to me tonight my heart is still pounding. He even gave me a nickname ! He said I look like a doll and called me doll face more than my name, gosh my heart is fluttering just thinking about it !!! If anyone finds out I’ll just die, this is so so so wrong but I can’t help it. I know he’s going to be my stepfather but I want him to look at me with his pretty eyes, I want him to hold my hand, I want him to be the one to hold me, I want him to say I love you to me, I want to be the one marrying him instead of my contemptible mother !!! I know it’s perverse and dirty but I wish he wanted me instead of her.

Leon loved it. He loved seeing the vicious, possessive, dirty side of you.

What he loved even more was reading your entries about how much you wanted him to love on you, even if it was rather on the innocent side. Just something about you writing down your fantasies made his cock stir, reading things like-

May 26th

I’ve been with mom and Leon for 2 days, my stuff is all moved into the house and it basically looks the same.

I saw Leon <3 and mom through the kitchen window while I was reading in the backyard kissing and he had his hand on her neck but then she yanked it away and rolled her eyes before leaving. If I were her I’d let him do what he wanted to me. If I knew how to french kiss I’d do it with him all the time, let him wrap his hand around my neck while I sit in his lap and just french kiss for hours. All my friends have done it before but I’ve only gotten the tiniest of pecks. I know it’s sinful to like my stepdad but fantasy never hurt anyone ??

-Leon would teach you how to french kiss and so much more.

Digging through your panty drawer, his eyes widened. Instead of seeing your usual cotton underwear with cute patterns, he instead saw a pair of lace white panties with a pink bow at the bottom of the drawer as an attempt to hide it away. This was clearly meant to be a set of sorts. He felt his heart nearly burst as he sifted through your bras to get to the bottom, only to find the matching white lace bra with a pink bow in the middle.

Why the fuck did you have these?

Was there someone you were going to wear them for?

He needed answers and he needed them now. He hadn’t read your diary yet so he hoped that the answer could be in there. Snatching it from your desk, his eyes frantically scanned through the pages until he found what he was looking for.

June 3rd

Mom let grandmother take me out shopping with her and I had a really good time !! I do miss spending summers there but getting to see Leon makes up for it hehe :) I really do wish mom would let me see grandmother more often though. She took me to the mall and she got me a bikini and a pair of actual proper lingerie !!! I know it might be weird for her to buy me that but she told me every girl needs a proper pair and mom would kill me if I asked her and I just wanted to have something to make me feel pretty even if no one knows I have it. It feels good to be a little more normal, it sucks that all the other girls get to show off their pretty swimsuits and wear pretty lingerie while i look like a chump in my stupid one piece bathing suit and stupid cotton underwear and ugly bras. Mom says it’s gross to have these things even though I saw the receipt from a lingerie store on the table right before her honeymoon, what a hypocrite. I had to sneak it in wearing both the bikini and bra under my normal clothes haha, I’m even wearing my new garments as I’m writing this. I think I’ll even change into my bikini in a little bit just for fun. It was a good day :).

Jesus you are so fucking cute

Relief washed over him instantly, but his heart cracked. You're such a beautiful girl, and you didn’t even know it. He saw the way boys and men would look at you; he even saw the jealousy in your own mother's eyes. How did you not know that you were drop-dead gorgeous? With beauty like yours, you could wear rags and still be the most beautiful thing to walk the earth. You looked exactly like a doll, you didn't need lingerie or bikinis to be pretty.

Leon knew from reading all your journals that the reason you felt this way was because of your upbringing; your parents weren’t exactly ones to instill confidence but preferred to tear you down and keep you in a constant state of vacillation so you’d have to constantly rely on them.

A notification dragged him from his thoughts—a text from your mother saying that you’d both be home in 5 minutes—as he began to clean he kept thinking of how beautiful you looked in your pretty lingerie and how he would be getting to actually see you in it soon.

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This was absolutely perfect.

The moment the words left your mother's mouth, Leon felt the blood rush to his pants. When he glanced at you sitting on the sofa and saw you squish your thighs together, he knew you felt the same heat too.

It was like the stars aligned; your mother would leave for her close friends bachelorette party week abroad in Mexico and leave you and Leon all alone. Fate was truly on both your sides.

Until he heard your mothers voice say-

"You could always spend the week at your father's if you don’t want to stay here with Leon, honey. We can drop you off the night before I leave. Would you rather do that?"

Fuck, maybe you would say you wanted to be with your father.

"No, no, it’s alright. I want to be here with all my stuff and adjust to the new house better; I'm still getting used to it."

Another wave of relief washed over him.

“Okay honey, are you okay with that Leon?”

“Oh, yeah, of course. I’ll be working most of it anyway.”

A lie, he would immediately call the DSO to tell them he’d be taking the entire week off.

Leon glanced at you once again to see you looking at your lap trying to hide the smile forming on your pretty lips.

This week he’s finally going to make you his.

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Your poor heart was about to pound out of your chest. Leon had taken your mother to the airport three and a half hours ago for her flight, and all you could do was pace around Leon’s home. What was taking him so long to come back? Chalking it up to airports being a pain you continued pacing. Knowing you and Leon would be alone for the week made the feeling of anxiety coursing through your veins increase.

You tried your best to look nice, taking the time to make your hair look pretty and putting on more makeup than usual now that your mother couldn’t tell you to wipe it off. Rebelling even more, you put on a cute sundress that would send your parents into cardiac arrest if they were here to see you wearing it.

It really did feel nice to doll yourself up.

Finally, when you finished and looked at the large mirror in the hallway to admire your work, it hit you. You were doing all this for your own mother's husband. You did this to impress your stepfather. What the hell is the matter with you? This is wrong, and dirty, and nasty. Even if he wasn’t tied to your mother why would ever want a puny girl like you?

Damn it, you should’ve just spent the week with your father and stepmother, even if you’d be miserable. You’d probably just be a nuisance to Leon anyway; he’ll probably just spend the week avoiding you. God, why didn’t you just bite the bullet and go to your father's? You should’ve never agreed to stay the week, it was doomed from the start.

Being so drowned in your thoughts you only heard the door being unlocked when it was too late…

CRAP

“Hey doll, I’m back from the airport!”

The door is about 1/4 open.

CRAP CRAP CRAP

What can you do? Running to your room won’t work; the staircase is directly in front of the door. Hiding isn’t worth the risk of getting caught and looking more stupid than you already do. You don’t know the house well enough, so if there is a blind spot where you can sneak off to so you can quickly get changed, you definitely don’t know it.

Too late.

Leon is now standing two and a half feet in front of you.

Nervously smoothing the bottom of your dress, all you could do was look down at his shoes as his eyes practically burned holes into you.

“Wow. You look very nice today.”

You felt your face get hot as embarrassment washed over you. Is he mocking you? His voice didn’t sound mocking but you never know. Even if he is you can’t just stand there like an idiot!!! Say something, anything!!!

“Thanks, Mr. Kennedy.”

You mentally slap yourself.

Was THAT really the best you could do??? At least you didn’t stutter. Raising your head, you finally meet his eyes and see how sincere they are.

“I’ve told you hundreds of times to call me Leon sweetheart.”

He won’t admit it out loud to you yet, but he secretly loves your formality. He gets a little rush every time you call him “Mr. Kennedy” and “sir”. His wife raised such a polite young woman, he can’t wait to see what else he can get you to call him.

“Are you hungry doll? I’ll order or make you whatever you want.” He has his very big hand on your shoulder rubbing soothing circles on your skin and you feel electricity all throughout your body.

“I’m okay right now Mr. Kenn- Leon. But thank you for offering.” He moves his hand to rub your shoulder and you want the moment to linger as long as possible.

“Okay doll, I’m gonna go take a quick shower.” His very big hand leaves all too soon, “After I’m done I’ll meet you in the game room so we can do something fun tonight, you okay spending some time with me sweetheart?”

You felt a jolt of excitement at his offer, “Okay, I’ll be waiting there for you!”

With one last smile to one another you both head your separate ways.

You felt so happy that Leon wanted to spend his time with you instead of just going out or staying in his room to avoid you, you knew it was wrong to want his attention but you just couldn’t help it. He was the one who offered, and you were raised to always be polite and accept invitations, your parents only had themselves to blame. Why should you care about her feelings when she’s never cared about yours? After all it was your mother’s choice to leave her husband all alone so she could have her fun, so why shouldn’t you indulge yourself and have your own fun too?

During your epiphany, Leon was in the shower stroking his cock, thinking of you standing there in your pretty little dress, looking more vulnerable than a deer in headlights. It took everything in him not to push you to the floor and stuff your tiny pussy full of his big cock. He wondered if you had your regular Sanrio cotton panties or your lingerie on underneath?

He imagined your little whines and whimpers, saying how he’s too big and won’t fit so he only fucks you with half his length until he can stretch you out more, how sexy you would look riding him. Thinking of how you’d shyly guide his hand to wrap around your neck as he fucks you into oblivion.

Did you even know the effect you had on him? he thought of you every second of the day. he saw your angelic face everytime he closed his eyes, had constant dreams of you. He thought of how much happier he’d be if you had been his bride instead of your mother. Hell you’d probably faint from embarrassment if you knew even a sliver of his fantasies about you.

Wrapping a towel around his waist Leon couldn’t help but smirk as he thinks of all the things he would be doing to his precious stepdaughter tonight.

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Sitting cross-legged on the floor, trying to shuffle a deck of cards, the TV played an Impractical Jokers re-run softly in the background as Leon finally came downstairs.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, secretly admire how good he looked. He wore gray sweatpants and a long-sleeve shirt that clung to him deliciously tight, showing off his muscles beautifully. Having felt self-conscious in your dress and the sun having set, you changed into your sleep shirt and shorts while Leon was gone, and he loved it. Your thin pajamas hugged your figure so well that he had to look away before his cock hardened.

Now all he had to do was execute his plan. First he’d put in a scary movie (a classic way to get a girl to cling onto her beau), gain your trust, and finally he’d fuck the shit out of you.

“Hey doll, thanks for holding up,” Reaching over to turn off the lamp, he cheekily smiles at you “What do you say we watch a movie? I know a good scary one I think you’d like.”

Nervousness crept into you as you toyed with your shorts, “Oh I’ve never really seen a horror movie before, my parents have never let me… but I want to watch it though!”

‘A night of firsts’ Leon thought. “I’ll put it on, it’s an older movie but it’s a classic. Why don’t you come up here and sit next to me sweetheart?” He patted the spot next to him on the sofa, “Don’t want you to be all by yourself down there.”

Shyly, you got up, Leon gently grabbed your hand and sat you next to him. You hadn’t been this close to him since he bought you those gifts a couple weeks ago; you nearly forgot how he was even more handsome up close and personal. Picking at your fingernails, you waited anxiously as the movie began. Putting his arm around your shoulder, he somehow made you get even closer to him, his cologne and shampoo invading your senses. Rubbing his hand up and down your arm, he could feel the goosebumps forming on your soft skin.

25 minutes had passed, and you had practically molded yourself into his side. The movie was scary, of course, but you couldn’t blame snuggling into Leon on just being scared. You knew exactly what you were doing, and as long as Leon was okay with it, you’d keep doing it. This was your only opportunity to get a taste of what it was like to be with him, and goddamn, you were going to take it.

When a jump scare happened you let out a small scream and hid your face in his neck, clinging to him tightly. The cogs turned in Leon’s brain; everything was going according to plan.

Sliding his arm down to your waist he held your head with his other hand, “You scared baby?”

Your heart beat faster at the pet name, “A little bit…”

“You shouldn’t be sweetheart,” He caresses your face. “I’m right here to protect you.”

His breath was fanning your face; you were so close to him that you could see every beautiful, unique detail that marked his skin.

The lump suddenly comes back to your throat.

“You’re so angelic,” he tugs you even closer than you were before, “look just like a doll.”

Blush spreads across your face, kissing the palm of Leon’s big hand you sheepishly put one hand on his chest and the other on one of his big arms, tracing gentle circles with your small fingers. “Do you really mean that Leon?”

“Course I mean it baby,” placing you on his lap, he made sure to position you so you’d feel his hard cock under your cunt, “most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

A tiny smirk appeared on your lips, “More beautiful than my mother?”

His cock was pulsing hearing that come from your pouty lips.

“Especially more beautiful than her,” you began pressing tiny kisses to his jaw, “can see the envy in her eyes every time she looks at you.”

And with that he dove in and kissed you. It felt electrifying as he slipped his tongue into your hot mouth, pressing it as deep as he can go. You whined when he pulled away, quickly giving him a small peck.

"Fuck, doll face" he sighs, scattering gentle pecks on your neck, “You like how I kiss you, hm?" his big hands wander down to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze and making you moan.

"A-ah, Leon," you whimper, his hands not leaving your ass. Leon just smirks and pulls your body closer to him. He leans down to kiss your lips once more, but it was rougher. He wraps his arm around your body, tugging you firmer, while his other hand cups your cheek. Leon’s in control of the kiss, you just try your best to keep up with him. You whined once again when he pulled away, a string of saliva connecting you both together.

“You finally got a real kiss, and now you can’t get enough, can you, dirty girl?” He wiped the spit from your lips with his finger, placing it in his mouth to taste both your mixtures. Your cheeks were flushed red from how turned on you are for him.

“Let’s continue this in the bedroom nasty girl,” picking you up bridal style he carried you up the stairs,“gonna need more room to do what I want to you.”

Making a beeline for your bedroom, upon entry giving you a chaste kiss before guiding you to stand between his legs.

“Be a good girl and take my cock out.”

You just nodded your head, obeying him immediately. You'd done some research, so you weren't as naïve as you had been before, and you were hoping he'd give you the chance to show him what you learned. Leon began removing his shirt as you began to scoot down, by the look of an evident bulge, you could tell his cock was gonna be big. Leon watches you with hazy eyes, petting your hair softly.

You felt your heart rate go faster from the thought of seeing his cock right in front of your face. Quickly tugging his sweatpants and boxers down his hard cock slaps against his stomach and bobs forward, the thick tip smearing your cheek with his precum.

Leon reaches for your face to wipe it off but you grab his wrist and lower it. Your mouth is watering. He’s so thick and long, how was he supposed to fit in your mouth let alone your pussy?

With no plan at all, you leaned forward and enveloped the head of his cock between your pretty lips. He hissed at the sudden contact, your tongue tasting his precum beading at the tip. It was a little salty, but hearing Leon’s deep groan of pleasure, you’d learn to love the taste.

You released his length for a moment with a pop and spat on him, watching your saliva trickle down his heavy cock. Taking your small hand you pumped it up and down, spreading your spit all around his fat cock.

“Holy shit! Where the hell did you learn to do that, doll?”

You blushed, letting out a small giggle, and licked his tip, “Watched a porno, wanted to learn how before I did it to you.”

Opening your mouth to slip his cock back in before he could respond, you tried to take as much of him as you could. He moaned, eyes fluttering closed as you eagerly began to suck his cock. His grip in your hair tightened and the tinge of pain had you gushing into your panties. You whimpered around him, clenching your thighs together to help ease the pressure between your legs.

He let you suck on him, lathering his member in your spit until you reached the point where you couldn't handle anymore of his cock in your mouth.

"C'mon angel, try to take more of daddy in that slutty throat," He growled, you choked but did your best to relax your throat to allow him to fuck your mouth. Your panties were soaked and sticking to you, having your handsome stepfather use your throat as he pleased was a turn on.

"Look at that. Bad little girl aren't you? You're my bad, naughty girl." Leon mocks, watching tears drip down your cheeks.

You sucked him off like your life depended on it, slurping and moaning around his big cock. Using your hand on what your mouth couldn’t reach to try and make him cum.

"Fuck my love, you're doing so damn good. Sucking your Daddy's cock so good." he moans, hand still gripping your hair, encouraging you to take him deeper once again. The gagging sent shivers down his spine.

Saliva continuously dripped down your chin, "So messy for your daddy, my baby" he suddenly pulled out, leaving you a panting mess before him.

Lifting you in his arms he tenderly kissed your forehead, "Did such a good job sucking me off angel, always knew you were secretly a whore. Love how sloppy you are, can’t wait to teach you how to deep-throat me."

Your body shivers from how deep and alluring his voice sounded, “Anything for you.” you practically moan, quickly you pressed a kiss to Leon’s nose and tried to wriggle out of his arms.

Confused Leon gently put you down, sat back on your bed, and waited to see what you were going to do. “Keep pumping your cock!” You quickly went over to your dresser and grabbed the Polaroid camera he got you. He almost had a heart attack hearing what came out of your mouth.

“I want you to cum on my face and take a photo of it. Is that okay with you?”

Leon practically snatched the camera from you, “Shit doll, didn’t know you were this nasty. Hurry up and suck me off so I can fuck you after this.” he quickly pushed you to your knees.

He shoved your head on his cock, becoming impatient. He just wanted to feel your tight mouth on him again. His free hand tangled in your hair once more as he started to push himself further in your mouth. Your eyes instantly teary as he reached your gag-reflex, making your throat burn. Looking down at your pretty face made his self-control snap and he lifted his hips up, forcing his whole cock down your throat. Two more thrusts and he pulled out, his hot cum spurting all over your face.

Snapping two photos on the camera he placed the three items on the floor and lifted you up on the bed, "Open that pretty mouth again for me, my love." You instantly do what he tells you, allowing him to spit in your mouth and without being told to, you swallow happily.

Gathering his cum on your fingers you happily lick them clean, “I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna go wash my face real quick!” and Leon waits patiently, stewing in anticipation.

Re-entering your room Leon saw that you ditched your pajamas and now only wore the lingerie he found in your room just days ago.

You truly are the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen.

"C’mere baby girl, come here." Leon coos and pulls your body close to him. You straddle his lap, feeling his cock beneath your folds. He wraps his strong arms around you, his face inches from yours. He clutches your throat with one hand, squeezing it.

He presses a sloppy kiss to your swollen lips, "Ready for me to finally fuck you, my baby?”

You nod your head the best you can. "Please, want it so bad daddy"

"You think you can take my cock?"

You hate how flustered he can make you. You only nod and lean in for another kiss, letting Leon take control of it once again.

“I can take it. Promise I can.”

“Okay doll,” he nips at your jaw, “just gotta prep you first.”

Prep?

Every coherent thought leaves your mind as you watch him unclip your bra, exposing you to him. Before you can cover yourself, Leon snatches your wrist with his hand and shoots you a warning look before kissing and sucking at your sensitive breasts. Holding onto him as he laid you on your back, you waited to see his next move.

His hand cups your panty-clad cunt and you jolt, panicking at the sensation your legs closed on instinct, Leon growled, "Open your fucking legs or I’ll leave right now..."

You whimpered, startled by Leon’s tone as he pushed them back open. Leon smiled, pecking your lips quickly, "Be a good girl, doll..."

Feeling you up, he stroked your clothed pussy with his fingers softly. Your little hand reached for his free one, putting his pointer and middle finger to your lips you began to suck on them. He pressed his fingers harder on your cunt, specifically on your cute little clit making you moan around his digits.

"You feel good, angel?" Leon asked softly as you nodded, feeling relaxed you kept your legs open no longer needing Leon to help keep them spread. But Leon was going too slow and you were starting to get frustrated.

"M-more..." You quietly begged him, making him chuckle darkly. Leon could see your hips thrusting up harder into his hand, wanting more friction as you became more desperate.

"Such a cute doll, aren't you?" Dazed, eyes barely open, mouth slightly gaped, a little drool from when you sucked his fingers in the corners of your sweet mouth. ‘She looks so fuckable.’

He was tempted to just shove his fat cock inside your tight virgin cunt and make you take it, no matter how much it hurt, and he would have if it was anyone else. But you aren’t just anyone; you're his stepdaughter, his precious baby who deserves to have her pussy fingered and eaten out, so he pushes the thought out of his mind.

Leon just wants to fuck you stupid, "Let's get these off you..." Taking a look at your cunt, he noticed your panties had a wet spot on them that seemed to be getting bigger.

"Look at that, baby... So wet..." His fingers touched the wet patch, feeling the stickiness on his fingertips, he bent down, "Fuck, you smell so good my love..."

Leon took off your ruined panties and he could feel the hunger devour him right then and there. Saliva gathered in his mouth, a voice in his head telling him to just dive in and eat your little cunt like it was the last thing he'll ever have.

So he listened.

Leon dove in without a warning, his tongue collecting the juices that seep out of your cunt as you screamed, "L-Leon!!!"

"So sweet. Taste so fucking sweet..." He growled as he sucked the puffy little nub in between his lips, softly biting it and making you thrash underneath him, arching your back as you called out his name, "You're just a little skank, aren't you?"

"N-not a skank, Leon! Feels... Feels w-weird..." you whimper and grab onto his hair, Leon didn't stop sucking, licking, he gave his all as you felt tears starting to form in the corner of your eyes.

"Just a dumb fucking bitch. Nasty little slut that loves how her stepfather plays with her pussy." He collected his saliva inside his mouth and spits on your cunt, making you more of a mess as his fingers roam your entrance.

Without a warning his fingers start ramming inside you—moving them rapidly up and down, hitting the spots you didn't even know existed. You couldn’t think straight, not when he spat on your cunt and made you know how good it felt to have your pussy doted on. You were crying, wanting him to slow down but despite it hurting, you still wanted more.

He moved his tongue and fingers in sync, rubbing your swollen clit at a fast pace trying to get his good girl to cum as fast as he can and repeat the process over and over again. Leon wanted to make the bed drenched with your cum.

Leon could feel your walls clenching on his fingers, restraining his movements he knew you were close. Then he went harder and harder, pressing down on the puffy nub as you screamed, the tears on your face evident.

"You gonna cum, aren't you, babydoll? Are you gonna be a good girl for me? You deserve this so much, baby. Watched you for so long, been dreaming of this day since I met you" He slaps you across your face, savoring the moment, "That's right, doll... Let the whole neighborhood know how good I'm making you feel. Show daddy know how much of a whore you are."

Leon’s right, you really are a slut.

Stars clouded your vision. The knot in your stomach made you feel like you were going to pee, feeling it coiling in your belly, it grows bigger and bigger.

Suddenly something so unexpected happens that shocked you both. Leon can feel the gush of stream hitting him as you twitch in his grasp, moaning so loud he knows the neighbors will hear it. The clear stream of liquid told its tale and Leon knows exactly what it is.

"L-Leon!" your thighs shook frantically as you cried, he could only smirk seeing you squirt all over his hands and mouth.

"Good fucking girl," he gives a few gentle slaps to your aching pussy "Gonna make you my own personal porn star, doll face. Bet you’d fuckin’ love that."

You just stare at him with heart eyes. Grabbing the back of his head to make him lean down, you licked from his chin back up to his lips so you could taste yourself.

Leaning back he kisses your forehead, “It’s going to hurt a little more cause you have such a tight cunt, but I’ll go slow. I promise,” he says with furrowed brows.

You loop your arms around his neck, and nod, hoping that the he can see the adoration you feel for him in your eyes. Leon nods back stiffly as his eyes flit to your lips before kissing you hard, once again. Though this time, while his lips are on yours, one of his hands reaches between you both, gripping the base of his cock. He rubs it between your folds, the tip brushing against your clit making you moan, high pitched and sweet into his mouth. 

You brace yourself for the stretch of his big cock. When he finally bottoms out, you gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders where your hands were rested. He hisses, and your brows furrow with worry when you feel the tiny pricks of blood oozing out.

“I’m sorry,” you panic, tears prickling your eyes from both the pain of your hymen breaking and the fear of hurting him. “Are you mad? Are you okay? I didn’t mean to hurt you, I’m so sorry,” you softly cry.

Here Leon is, balls deep in the wettest, tightest pussy he’s ever had, and you’re asking him if he’s mad at you. As if a few little fingernail scratches could actually hurt him. He laughs a little, trying not to move before you’ve adjusted to him being inside of you. “You could punch me in the face and I’d still adore you. I’m fine,” he says as he pecks your nose.

To make you forget about it he leans forward and groans, wrapping a hand around your throat as he starts slowly fucking you. "That’s my good girl," he chuckles, hearing his balls slap against you, "taking this huge dick like a whore."

"Yes, yes, r-right there daddy! Hurts so good!" his words were made you blush red, turned on from the way he was spoke to you. You love it — you love surrendering yourself to him, letting him do whatever he wants with your body, loved to let him use you like a sex toy.

"Yeah? My little bitch loves how I fuck her hard with my cock?" You don't even need to answer because he can feel it. He sees his cock protruding against your stomach, your pussy too little to accommodate his big dick.

The hand that was once wrapped around your neck moves up to your face as he forces two fingers inside your wet mouth.

Your eyes roll back, choking as he went past your gag reflex.

"It’s s-so big," you mumble around his digits, your saliva coating his fingers as you swirled your tongue around them. “Love it so much,”

"Dick too big to fit inside this little cunt. such a little baby I’ve got here." He gives a light slap to your puffy clit, “Can see it moving in your stomach, babydoll. My cock is the only one you need. Know it hurts but you’re gonna take it like a big girl, yeah?”

You quickly reply, pussy clenching, "Yes, just p-please don’t stop," you say through his fingers, batting your eyelashes.

His lips curve up in a smile, loving how cute you said that, "Mhm, 'course you love it. My little cum-slut can't get enough of her stepdads big cock."

You two were a hot, moaning messes. Looking up at him pathetically Leon’s cock throbs at the sight of you all used, your face flushed. "Want to cum, sweet girl?"

Wanton moans filled the room as you nodded your head.

“Only way I’ll let you is if you tell me what I want to hear," he squishes your cheeks together, “Wanna hear you say that this is your daddy’s pussy and that you belong to him and him only. Say it and I’ll make you cum, babydoll.”

Your cunt squeezes him tightly, you love how he only wants you for himself.

“M-my pussy is daddy’s, and I o-only belong to him!”

He slaps your cheek harder than he did before and soothes you with a sloppy kiss.

His thrusts gets rougher, pounding right into your sweet spot before he sends you to a hard, body-shaking climax. Your vision blurs, seeing stars as your pussy squirts your cum onto his dick. "There we go, baby. Cum on daddy’s cock – fucking little minx!."

You only have the energy to moan, brain dead at the staggering orgasm.

He comes undone right after, hot strings of cum coating your tight walls. Pulling out, he groans when he sees both of your mixed cum oozing out of your cunt and onto your comforter.

Leaning down he places his long fingers in your messy pussy, shoving his cum back inside.

"C’mere, my love," he plants his hands on your stomach and lays you on his chest, kissing your hairline.

You both lay still for a couple minutes, catching your breath. You listen to his heartbeat come back to a steady pace as he rubs your back and shoulders up and down, kissing your head every once in a while.

“Did I hurt you, sweetheart?” Leon says breaking the comfortable silence.

Nuzzling further in his chest you hold him tighter, “M’fine Leon, just sore.”

You hear his heartbeat quicken again.

“Did such a good job baby, thank you for letting me do this to you.” He tugs your head back, pressing a long kiss to your swollen lips.

You feel your heart stop as he moves you and gets up from your bed. You grab his hand and he lets out a small laugh, giving it a kiss, “M’not going anywhere doll, just gonna put my pants back on and get you some clean panties.”

A small smile spreads across your face, relieved he wasn’t leaving you all alone. When he comes back he holds you as tight as he can without suffocating you.

Holding his jaw, he can barely hear you whisper a scared “Thought you were gonna abandon me.”

You’d never have to worry about him leaving you.

“Wouldn’t dream of it doll face” he squeezes your throat, “I’m never letting you go, whether you like it or not...”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy

[vhagarlovebot]

AEMOND TARGARYEN !

last update: december 10th, 2022. no longer being updated since i reached tumblr’s limit for links per post.

AEMOND TARGARYEN MASTERLIST #2

─── ★ ONE-SHOTS.

NOT GOOD ENOUGH (nsfw)

you haven't consummated your marriage and your husband is the only one with an answer.

UNLUCKY FAITH (angst)

did aemond targaryen ever love you?

FRUSTRATION (hurt/comfort)

aemond had a terrible day and puts all his frustration on you.

WON’T LET GO (hurt/comfort)

aemond is in pain and you want to help, but he doesn't want to scare you.

HEARTBEAT (fluff)

aemond sees you playing around with one of helaena’s children and doesn’t hesitate to join.

MY KING (nsfw)

you ride aemond on the iron throne.

INTO YOU (hurt/comfort)

aemond comes to visit his sister at collage and you’re surprised to find out that he’s actually there for you.

DOOMED LOVE (angst)

the love you feel for aemond is forbidden.

YOU NEVER REALLY SEE ME (hurt/comfort)

aemond is jealous because you are spending too much time with aegon.

JUST THE TWO OF US (fluff)

you end up sharing the bed with aemond.

DON’T TELL NOBODY (suggestive, angst)

you and aemond hate each other but he would do anything to protect you.

STAND BY YOU | PART 2

you've been betrothed since you were a child to prince aemond targaryen and this is the first time you're meeting him. however, you've always had his back.

I WON’T GIVE UP (hurt/comfort)

aemond has a lot of insecurities and this time they end up being stronger than his love for you.

WHAT WENT WRONG? (angst)

when you left king’s landing you and aemond promised to send each other letters but he didn’t keep his promise. now you are back ready to find some answers, but aemond is no the same one he used to be and you might not like what he has to say.

─── ★ BLURBS & DRABBLES.

PRINCE AEMOND:

getting flustered when you catch aemond’s gaze on you

braiding aemond's hair

aemond targaryen is shy around women

aemond feeling jealous

uncle!aemond who scares all your posible suitors

aemond targaryen’s love language is physical touch

aemond never really cared about his nameday

aemond who…

aemond talking to vhagar about you

aemond likes to hug you from behind

aemond’s thoughts on being a father

aemond would never hit a woman

calling aemond pretty

aemond being upset with you

“i don’t think i can be just friends with you”

aemond father-son relationship with ser criston cole

making out with aemond in dark hallways

aemond loves how shy you are around him

fake-dating with aemond

upholding the family’s honor

aemond targaryen’s love language is words of affirmation

aemond is good at controlling himself

hugging aemond

praising aemond and making him feel better

the first time aemond showed his affection for you

aemond likes to leave hickeys on you

aemond just wants to feel you

“maybe this is it, because i can’t do this anymore!”

mornings with aemond

aemond targaryen is tall

aemond takes care of you when you’re sick

aemond loves your lips

aemond who… pt2

aemond likes to have his cock buried deep inside you

“my heart was made to be broken anyway”

aemond targaryen is touch starved

aemond is there for you during a thunderstorm

make-up sex with aemond

aemond can’t remember the moment he fell in love

aemond loves going down on you

the aftermath of a fight with aemond

taking care of aemond after an exhausting day

aemond has a nightmare

aemond doesn’t share his problems with anyone but you

aemond doesn’t give a shit about tourneys

aemond will kill anyone who dares to put a hand on you

aemond likes when you tell him how big he is

the night aemond was taken away from you

getting insecure at seeing aemond with another woman

admiring and kissing aemond under the moonlight

aemond teaches you high valyrian

aemond is your best friend

calling aemond “daddy” in bed + spit play and subspace

aemond fucks you with his dagger

skinny dipping with aemond

aemond edges you and you squirt without his permission

the first time aemond yelled at you

aemond is tired and lets you do all the work

“you should be carrying my child”

aemond likes being the big spoon

aemond wakes you up

trying to bake with aemond

aemond’s been busy and he finally has time for you

aemond growing a beard

aemond is jealous

MODERN!AEMOND:

cooking with modern!aemond

modern!aemond is your neighbor

modern!aemond cares for only one person

modern!aemond likes to leave little notes for you

modern!aemond and you under the mistletoe

it’s hard for modern!aemond to be vulnerable

watching horror movies with modern!aemond

modern!aemond loves…

modern!aemond and the first time you stay with him

modern!aemond deeply in love with latina!reader

modern!aemond likes his sisters’ roommate

modern!aemond has a soft spot for you

helping modern!aemond get through hard days

modern!aemond would definitely stop smoking for you

modern!aemond falling in love with you

─── ★ MISCELLANEOUS.

aemond’s personality

how i think modern!aemond would look like

aemond and trust / friendship

aemond and alicent the night he lost his eye

© vhagarlovebot on tumblr. do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #prince aemond x reader #aemond x reader #aemond fic #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen scenarios #aemond targaryen fluff

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Flufftober Day 31 | Spiked candy

Pairing | Iron Man!Tony Stark x Avenger!Female!Reader

Word count | 2.1K

Summary | You've had a crush on Tony for as long as you can remember, but you didn't know he also has one on you. During his annual Halloween party, he makes a move using a project he's been working on for a long time, and they have precisely the desired effect because you couldn't be happier the morning after. Your dream of being his might finally come true after all.

Warning(s) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Swearing, costume party, use of pet name (Kitten), aphrodisiac candies, mutual pining, friends/coworkers to lovers, smut (Daddy kink, dirty talk, oral - M receiving, light choking, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), squirting, implied aftercare), a boatload of fluff.

Prompt | 31. Dreams do come true | @flufftober Prompt | Tony only buys the good stuff when it comes to Halloween candy. But be careful. There's a reason there are no kids at this party. Some of the candies are a pretty potent aphrodisiac | @jtargaryen18

A/n | This one-shot is written for Jamie's Halloween Challenge 2023. As always, I want to thank @ccbsrmsf1 for enjoying this with me and proofreading it as well! I had an absolute blast writing this one, and I hope you will all enjoy it as much as I did when writing 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 🧡

Divider is made by @firefly-graphics | GIF credit to the owner This GIF has been found on Pinterest, but I sadly can't find the original pin anymore since I forgot to save it. If you have the link to the original GIF, please let me know so I can credit it accordingly!

Main Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist | Flufftober Masterlist

Your costume idea may have been basic, but your result is far from that. The tight black dress, thigh-high heels, slicked-back hair, cat ears, and smokey makeup give you a sexy, sultry look you hope will impress one man. Anthony Edward Stark.

The entire day you've spent getting ready, from doing your hair and makeup to having every single hair on your body waxed that doesn't belong there. You're smooth as a baby's butt, and you've never looked better.

Looking this good also means you feel just about as good, and confidence is dripping off every inch of your body as you enter the party. Each year, Tony throws a Halloween party even more extravagant than the last, but you don't look at any of it.

There's only one thought in your mind: ''What will Tony think of my costume?'' it's a good thing you don't have to wait long before you have your answer.

''Fuckin' hell, Kitten, don't you look like a million bucks tonight?'' Tony says, and his hand finds its way to the small of your back as he leans in to whisper these words in your ear.

Heat creeps up your chest and neck, all the way to the tips of your ears because you've had a crush on him since before you had even become an Avenger. But honestly, who wouldn't when they were in the presence of someone as amazing as Iron Man?

However, what you did not know - or were too in love to see - is that he had a crush on you as well. He's been flirting with you ever since laying eyes on you. And tonight, he plans to make it abundantly clear how he feels about you.

''You don't look bad yourself, either,'' you say as you look Tony up and down. He's wearing a tailored pin-striped suit with no shirt, the jacket hanging open to reveal every last ridge of his muscle. Around his neck is a bow tie identical to the one of Jack Skellington, and the white hair and makeup finish off the entire look.

You turn towards him and lay your hand on his abdomen, scratching softly down to the edge of his pants with your Halloween-themed nails. When you hear Tony's breath hitch, you know you've achieved your goal and flashed a mischievous smile up to him.

''Don't tempt me, Kitten,'' he growls lowly, the dark brown of his eyes almost disappearing as his pupils grow wide in arousal.

''I'm sorry, Daddy,'' you say before tapping his chest once and turning around to head to the bar, and you're using the fact that it is busy to your advantage. You're immediately swallowed into the crowd, and before Tony can even reach out to you, you're out of his sight.

''Shit,'' he mutters to himself.

You have found your way to the bar in the meantime, and that's where you find both Bucky and Steve, just like every other party. Bucky's not a socialite, and Steve is nice enough to stay with his best friend.

Bucky whistles as you walk over. ''Someone must have left a cage open because there's a wild animal at this party.''

''Lookin' amazing tonight,'' Steve adds, and it's only then that you realize they're dressed up as one another. Steve is wearing Bucky's tactical gear, complete with a fake metal arm made for him, and Bucky is wearing Steve's Captain America suit, complete with the shield on his back.

''You two look amazing as well,'' you say with a big smile before ordering a cocktail. The two of them are some of your best friends, and they have been rooting for you and Tony since day one.

''Is there any chance you dressed like this for a certain someone?'' Steve inquires, and Bucky looks at you with a quirked brow.

The blush across your cheeks tells them everything you need to know, though they drop it for now, instead pulling you into the conversation they had earlier.

In the meantime, Tony is setting up a little plan that he has been working on for a while. He has made some candy for tonight, but this isn't just regular candy. Oh, no. These contain a potent aphrodisiac.

Now, Tony has to wait until you're feeling snack-ish - which you usually do at these parties - and make your way to the candy table. Luck must be on his side today because it doesn't take long for you to check out the selection.

Your eyes glide past every card by the bowls, and you chuckle at their puns. When you arrive at the last bowl, you suddenly feel a pair of eyes on you, and that's when you turn around.

''Care for a candy, Kitten?'' Tony asks, handing you one from the last bowl he just set up, and you gladly take it, unwrapping it quickly before popping it in your mouth.

It didn't take long for the effect to find its way into your system, and before it could hit you full force, Tony had already herded you to a nearby conference room.

That's where you find yourself on your knees on the floor, his thick, veiny cock filling your throat, blocking every single noise that even threatens to leave.

''Jesus, look at how good you're taking me, Kitten; I can feel myself in that tight little throat of yours,'' he says as his large fingers wrap around your throat and squeeze the sides to restrict your airflow just enough to have you feeling a little lightheaded.

The groans leaving his chest are out of this world, and they only spur you on to take him entirely. Just a few more inches, and you are taking him, but he doesn't let you get that far.

''Oh, fuck Kitten, I won't last if you do that,'' he says before pulling you off, your tongue still lapping at his tip despite not having him in your mouth anymore.

You're panting uncontrollably, but you're also turned on beyond belief, and you can't wait to feel him inside you, where you need him more than anything.

''Daddy, please! Want you to fuck me until I can't walk,'' you say with an innocent look in your eyes, though your face isn't that innocent anymore.

Makeup has run entirely, your hair is a big mess, and your neck and chest are covered in bruises and lovebites from Tony. How your outfit is still intact is beyond you, but that won't last long.

''Yeah? Is that what my Kitten wants? To be fucked by her Daddy? You've been a good girl for me, haven't you, sucking my soul out through my dick,'' he says as he helps you to bend over the table, your chest and cheek pressed firmly against the wood.

''Y-yeah, 'm Daddy's good girl,'' you say with a whine, and before you know it, your sad excuse of a thong has been ripped from your body, and Tony is shoving himself inside of you in a single thrust.

There's not a single thought in your mind other than ''Daddy!'' and you can't help but want to hold onto something to ground yourself, but most of all, you want to grab Tony.

Anywhere you can, you want to grab him, scratch him, anything to ground yourself. His fast-paced thrusts are sending you over the edge in no time, and your pussy squeezes him like a vice.

With a loud shout of his name, you squirt all over him, and you don't know when his fingers found your clit, but you're delighted that they did.

You're at the point where your brain has turned into complete mush, and you can't think, let alone talk, so all that's leaving your mouth are whines and broken moans.

He keeps thrusting despite you becoming oversensitive quickly, and it's almost too much, but somehow you manage to hold on long enough for him to cum inside you and collapse on top of you.

''Wow, Kitten, now I know what I've been missing out on all this time, huh? But you know what they say, dreams do come true for those who want it badly enough,'' he chuckles.

He cleans you up, and after that, you two head back to his apartment in the Compound, only a few floors above the party. Tony has carried your bridal style, your head propped against his shoulder while you fell asleep.

''Get some rest, Kitten, we'll talk tomorrow,'' he says with a few kisses on your forehead. He removed your makeup and remaining clothing, instead pulling a pair of his boxer briefs and oversized shirts onto your body.

The combination of the candy and Tony treating you like that in the conference room has left you tired beyond words, and you don't even notice him climbing into the bed with you after removing all of his makeup in the shower.

The following day, you wake up with a big yawn and a stretch. Tony's strong arms are wrapped around you as he pulls you against his chest, and you feel very content in his hold.

''Mornin' Princess,'' Tony says in a deep, gravelly voice that warms your insides. When you're about to turn around, you suddenly feel a soreness between your legs, and that's when you remember what happened last night.

''Good morning, Tony,'' you say as you turn over and look into his deep brown eyes. A small smile appears on your lips, and you place a soft peck on his lips, which he happily reciprocates.

''Thank you for last night,'' you whisper before burying your face into his neck, and he chuckles softly.

''You're welcome, Princess; I'm thrilled we finally ended up here together,'' he says, and you hum contently. You don't want to leave his arms, but once your belly starts rumbling, you know you don't have a choice.

''C'mon, let's get some breakfast, and after, we'll talk, okay?'' he says, and you agree before wiggling out of his grasp after a few more kisses.

Tony pulls on a pair of sweats before you walk to the communal kitchen, where, much to your surprise, no one is.

''How about some pancakes?'' you say, and Tony agrees, so you get the batter ready while Tony sets up the pan to make them. Once you're both ready, he grabs your hand and pulls you towards him, letting you step in front of the stove and standing behind you to bake them.

Even with you standing there, he can prepare them perfectly, and you can't stop yourself from smiling constantly. You don't notice the rest of the Avengers slowly trickling into the kitchen, but they all give each other knowing looks as they see the two of you.

''Morning, you two,'' Bucky says as he walks in, and that's when your head snaps towards him, and you finally see all the other Avengers in the kitchen, looking at the both of you.

A deep red color from the tops of your cheeks down to your chest appears, but all Bucky does is wink, and you give him a huge smile. Tony places a soft kiss on the top of your head before flipping more pancakes.

It doesn't bother Tony in the slightest, and you let yourself melt into his embrace while you wait for the last pancakes to be cooked.

''Let's have our breakfast in my apartment, okay?'' he whispers, and you nod before plopping a few pancakes on your plate with extra syrup and waving to the Avengers before you retreat to his apartment.

As soon as you find yourself on his couch, Tony has sat down next to you, and you're enjoying his delicious pancakes. He decides to break the silence first by addressing what's going on between the two of you.

''So, what do you think, Princess? Was this just a one-time thing, or did you have something else in mind?'' he asks carefully, and your eyes shoot up to his.

''Oh, Tony! This was more than just a one-and-done for me! I can't tell you how long I've loved you. Well, first it was just Iron Man, but when I got to know the man behind the suit, that's when you stole my heart, and to this day, you still have it,'' you say with a shy smile.

You feel a little stupid for saying you've had a crush on him forever, but he doesn't judge. At the very least, it's an ego boost for him, though he doesn't say that.

''It wasn't a 'one-and-done' for me either-'' he says in air quotes, ''I'd love to give us a chance at a relationship because I want to show you how much I love you, Princess. Treat you the way you deserve to be treated,'' he says.

And with those words, it's official. You're in a relationship with the one and only Iron Man, and you couldn't be happier. Dreams do come true for those who believe in them, after all.

#jamieshalloween2023 #flufftober 2023 #day 31 #tony stark #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark fanfic #tony stark one shot #tony stark imagine #tony stark x female reader #tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #tony stark fluff #tony stark smut #iron man #iron man fanfiction #iron man fanfic #iron man one shot #iron man imagine #iron man x female reader #iron man x reader #iron man x y/n #iron man fluff #iron man smut #happy halloween #spooky season #halloween

[writingsfromhome]

School Photos

A/N: just a quick fluff one-shot to get me back online. happy August and fellow Leo season.

————————————————

“Please!” He begs for the umpteenth time. “Just one picture! I just wanna see one!”

“No! Mum look at me, all albums will be burned if you show anything.”

My family chuckles at my persistence but I was serious. Bringing home my uni boyfriend was going good so far. The only thing I had to avoid was him seeing pictures of me as a child.

“She had braces, even had to wear the headgear sometimes.” My brother teases.

“Shut up!” I glare.

“Yeah and she was obsessed with dolphins so anything she wore had them. And if they didn’t—mom didn’t she have these pictures you ironed on for her.”

“Oh!” Mom gasps. “I remember! The patches, the dolphin patches she bought from that one store um-“

“Remember when she wanted a mole so bad like Aunt Jess that she drew one on.”

“No way, I need to see the proof.” Harry grins, taking in my humiliation like a chilled glass of wine.

“She did it the whole summer until I told her it looked like shit on her face.” My brother says. “It was a kindness now that she looks back right yn?”

“Oh aren’t you Mother Teressa.” I mock. I didn’t want Harry to see me like this either—bothered and acting childish with my brothers but I had to pick and choose my battles here.

“Ok lay off her now boys, let us enjoy the pie your mum made.” My dad swoops to my rescue and I give him an appreciative smile.

“Daddy’s girl.” My brother mutters. Mom scolds him but she’s biting back a laugh. Ugh my family was infuriating.

Since we’d arrived late, right before dinner, Harry hadn’t seen my childhood bedroom so once we’re done around the table we head upstairs.

In between dinner and dessert I’d rushed up with an excuse for the loo and made sure to hide any evidence of my face between the ages of 5-16 in my room.

Now, I give Harry a tour of my childhood bedroom.

“I can imagine you sitting here sketching,” Harry brushes his hand along the oak desk dad had built for me in year 4 and has sat against the window since.

So much of my history lived in all these objects. I was happy that Harry could see it all laid out here, know the past parts of me he couldn’t exactly meet.

Not that he needed to see physical copies of all my past parts.

“And this is my shrine to Jesse McCartney.” I open the top drawer meant for pencils and small items but instead a poster of his face was glued down and tiny trinkets laid around including the ticket from the I went to one of his performances.

“So this is your man on the side. Keeping him tucked away at home hm?” Harry tugs the drawer more to reveal all of my teenage crazy.

“I was obsessed. He’s still a very attractive man.”

“That’s weird.”

“What? That he’s attractive?”

“No, he looks nothing like me.”

“Why would he-“ I roll my eyes when I realize what he’s getting at. “Well you should be flattered you don’t look like my childhood celeb crush. That’d be creepy.”

“I think this is a little creepy.” Harry crosses his arms and leans against the table. I take him in where he stands; he felt so much bigger than my childhood bedroom.

“It’s what teenage girls do. Ask your sister I’m sure she had one of these too.”

“So you’re okay showing me this,” Harry tugs my hand. “But not any pictures of you-“

“No. That’s not happening.”

“I promise I’ll still love you.”

“They’re just embarrassing!” I whine. “I always had a phase I was going through. I don’t want you to see any of them.”

“Why?” He cups my face. “It makes you interesting! I showed you the phase where I spiked my hair every day and thought I was in a boy band.”

“Your hair didn’t even spike,” I laugh into his chest, remembering the photo I had taken a copy of with my phone. His hair had looked like he woken up and taken a chainsaw to it.

“See you’re allowed to laugh at me!”

“Nooo,” I wrap my arms around his waist. “No photos. Now subject change: we’re meeting all my friends tomorrow so what do you want to do today?”

“I can crash.” Harry says. He brushes my hair back and gives my head a kiss. “Driving for 4 hours was more tiring than I thought.”

“Okay,” I was fine with cuddling and going to bed even though it was only 9. As long as I was with Harry, everything felt fun. We’d been dating for over a year now and I loved him in a way I never loved boyfriends from the past. I think he was the real deal.

We lie on my small bed and talk until we doze off. The next morning we wake to the smell of breakfast and my parents spoil us with food and laughter.

I give Harry a tour of my hometown before we meet with my friends from school. Everyone and their partners love Harry and I can’t help but beam as he fits seamlessly into the other half of my life.

He catches my eye every now and then and the smile he gives me makes me fall in love with him all over again.

After an evening spent with family at home and another early night, Harry and I head out to go back to uni the following morning.

Goodbyes are long and multiple hugs are involved all around.

As we settle in and head back onto the motorway, Harry points to the sun visor.

“Sun in your eye?”

“No?”

“Why don’t you flip it down?”

“It’s not?” I look him over. Was he okay?

“Just flip it down yeah? In case.”

“Okay?” I slowly flip the visor down and I gasp. “How could you?”

His laughter fills the car as I stare in horror. Tucked into the mirror is a school picture of me, probably Year 6. My braces are full on while I grimace-not even smile-into the camera. I’m wearing a tie-dye dolphin shirt with dolphin clips in my hair. My hair is in plaits except one of them is already fallen out; I’d probably been rough on the playground. It’s all topped off by a silver chunky chain I’d stolen from my brother—thinking it was real silver and would make me look cool.

“It’s my favourite picture of you,” Harry plucks it off and I realize I should have nabbed it while he was laughing. “I don’t think anything can top it really.”

“Harry I beg you to give that back.”

“Nope.” Harry pops the p with joy. He tucks it into his shirt pocket.

“Harry!”

“I love you. Looking at the picture just makes me love you more.” He glances over at me and pats my thigh. “Can you smile like that for me?”

“This is so unfair!” I cross my arms and face the front. “Who betrayed me?!”

“My lips are sealed.” He was having too much fun. I would get my family to crack—dad would probably tell me. Unless it was him.

“I’m gonna go for her for Halloween.” Harry says, trying to get through my wall of silence.

“Fine.” I sit up with an idea and flick through my phone for the picture I’d been keeping. “I’ll go as him.”

I wait for Harry to look over at me and gloat when his face falls.

“You’re not supposed to have a copy of that!”

“Well. We’re even now.”

I plant a sweet kiss on his cheek, feeling better already.

“You’re so lucky I’m driving.”

“You’re lucky or I would have wrestled that photo away from you ages ago.” I say and Harry looks at me skeptically. “I grew up with brothers don’t underestimate me.”

“Fine. Fine. We’re even.” Harry agrees. “And for the record. I love you. And I love her too.”

It’s true that what he says thaws me a little, the little girl in me, but I don’t let it show right now. I just look out the window and mumble a love you too. His hand comes down on my thigh and, still looking out the window, I intertwine our fingers. He could drive me crazy but it was true for me too. As much as I laughed at his photo, I loved him and that little boy too.

“You’re never visiting my parents ever again.” I tell him.

His only response is bringing our hands to his mouth.

I melt in my seat a little.

Whatever.

#harry styles fic #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #writingsfromhome #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #one shot #my last post was Jan #um oops #truly couldn’t tell you where the first half of the year went #also I wrote this up so quickly so don’t read it too hard #if you’re reading this #hope you’re having a lovely summer

[theflyindutchwoman]

Grey gave me a rock-star review. Yeah, well, he should. You're amazing. I'm excited. I'm excited. Let's go to dinner tonight and celebrate. T-- Tonight, I can't. I'm sorry. I really, really want to, but I can't. I promised my friend that I would help him with something. Tomorrow night. Okay. Do you need any help? No, no. It's something I got to do on my own. But tomorrow night, it is a date. We are gonna celebrate you. Congratulations. They're really lucky to have you. Thank you.

| ANATOMY OF A SCENE - CHENFORD EDITION 5.13 - Daddy Cop

The joy these two exude every time they see each other, even if it's just in passing, is so pure… And the way neither of them can contain their excitement in this scene makes it that much more beautiful. Especially with how it parallels another moment, where Grey offered Tim a promotion. His reaction was so muted then, despite his obvious pride at his score, which served to highlight Lucy's enthusiasm. But now, he's just as ecstatic, like he's about to burst. This is so different, almost unTim like… And yet, it feels natural. Lucy is the only here, so he can fully be himself. There's no longer a need for pretense or walls. More than that : he knows that she will be just as happy and proud, so he doesn't have to hide his feelings.

I love how he doesn't immediately give her the news though, making her walk through the process instead… Which is so ironic, since she knows all about it. But in that moment, this was all about him for her. About his achievement. There's this second where her face falls a bit, after he corrects himself and explains that technically, there was an opening in Metro. It's something that tends to be overlooked but this is a good reminder that, while she may have orchestrated this five-player trade, she had no idea if it was going to work out, that he would be considered or offered the spot. That was completely out of her hands. She created an opening but he still had to get the job on merits. She was making a gamble with her career with no guarantee that it would pay off. That's how much she loves him. Of course Tim is unaware of her turmoil, all too happy to tell her the good news. And look at her being so enthusiastic, hitting him in the process - seriously, these two are making 'playful physical violence' a love language. It is so funny to see her suddenly remember where they are and check around her before dialling it down a notch, like she did in Follow-up Day, after catching Grey's and Tim's looks. And now, he is the one bouncing on the balls of his feet, almost bouncing. How the tables have turned!

And her words of affirmation, with the most loving look… the way the lighting is hitting her eyes, making them shinier… You can feel all the love. No words are needed here. And Tim being so over the moon… I don't think we have ever seen him that ecstatic before. The way he whispers the first 'I'm excited', just for them… They are in their own bubble, even though they are standing in the middle of the bull pen, with their colleagues in the vicinity. For two persons who used to avoid PDAs with their previous partners, it's quite telling.

The fact that he wants to take her out and celebrate this with her… this is a complete contrast from his prior reactions, including when he became a Sergeant. Lucy might be bummed that she can't celebrate with him that night, but Tim is not missing a beat. It doesn't matter when it happens. His big grin when she insists that they're going to celebrate him… The lower, and quite suggestive, tone of her voice… And again, those heart eyes and her words of affirmation… I love seeing this side of Lucy. Her choice of words are so significant as well : both in Follow-up Day and here, she makes sure to emphasise how 'lucky' the department is to have him. It really feels like a full-circle moment : back then, Tim gave up his promotion to finish her training and here, she played a part in securing him a new one. They're standing so close to each other, almost as if Tim is grabbing her belt to bring her closer to him… It even looks like they were about to kiss before Lucy catches herself and moves away, laughing. With a final lovetap on his shoulder. His big grin… The twinkles in his eyes… And his little nod at the end, as if he can't believe that this is truly his life… And you know what? I can't believe this is canon either.

#the rookie #chenford #chenfordedit #lucy chen #tim bradford #5.13 #Anatomy of a scene - Chenford Edition

[novamariestark]

Negan comforts reader with pretty bad daddy issues from past abuse when she gets overwhelmed with memories from her younger life

Prompt list 2 #42 ?

I Got You Darlin'

Warnings: mentions of physical, emotional and almost s**ual abuse (if these upset you don't read), panic attack, death (short not descriptive), age gap

Word count: 2334

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Pairing: Negan x reader

How did you end up there?

A deal. That’s how. A selfless sacrifice that was supposed to be your death. But no. Negan decided to keep you at the sanctuary instead.

You hated the man. You had watched him smash the hell out of your friend’s skull and just laugh it off. He went for another but there was no way you were going to let him die.

Glenn. The one who’s been your friend for as long as you remember. Even before the apocalypse. He knew about your “situation” and he did everything in his power to get you away from it. Offering you a place to crash when it got really bad, cleaning your cuts and even giving you his hard-earned money so you could eat.

The man was your savior. Your big brother.

So when he was sat at the other end of Negan’s bat, you didn’t even hesitate.

“No, pick me,”

Now what you thought would happen, didn’t. You expected the same fate as Abraham but no.

At first, you saw him as just another dangerous obstacle in this apocalyptic world. But the more you spent around him, the more you found yourself drawn to him. His charisma, his confidence, and his dark sense of humor were alluring, and you couldn't deny it. As your “friendship” or whatever it was developed into something more, Negan made it clear that he was attracted to you. But you were torn. You had developed a strong bond with Rick, the leader of your group, and he had become like a father to you. You couldn't betray his trust by getting involved with Negan, especially since he was the enemy.

But it wasn't just about loyalty to Rick. You knew that being with Negan would mean becoming one of his 'wives', forced to live in his twisted harem at the Sanctuary. You didn't want to be just another nameless face in his collection, used for his pleasure and discarded when he grew tired of you.

Little did you know that Negan would trade all of them for you. If you gave him a chance, it would be you and only you. Of course you didn’t believe him. Why would he trade much prettier women for you?

It had been a few weeks since you had arrived at The Sanctuary. To say that it was brutal here would be an understatement. Negan ruled with an iron fist, punishing anyone who dared to defy him. But strangely enough, he wasn't the worst thing about being here.

You had escaped your abusive father when you were 16 and thought you had left that part of your life behind, well you thought you had left your entire life behind. But then one day, after a few weeks at The Sanctuary, you heard a voice you hoped never to hear ever again. It was your father's voice, sneering and taunting. The exact soundtrack of your childhood.

He walked away. You instantly found that suspicious. And you were right. Later that night, you were abruptly woken up from your deep slumber by the sound of your bedroom door being flung open. Before you could even comprehend what was happening, a large, burly man grabbed your arms and dragged you out of bed.

“Hey, what's going on?” you yelled, trying to fight against his hold. “Shut up and come with me,” the man grunted, dragging you out of your room and down the hallway. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as fear and confusion set in. Where was he taking you? What had you done wrong?

You made your way through the dark, winding corridors of the Sanctuary until you reached a heavy metal door. The man shoved you inside and you stumbled, falling to the ground. As you lifted your head, you realized you were in a jail cell. Panic and disbelief flooded through you.

But as you sat on the cold floor, you couldn't shake off the feeling that something was very wrong. Why would Negan want you locked up? Was it because you turned down his offer? An offer that you would have otherwise accepted had he not murdered one of your friends in front of you and maybe if he didn’t have a different woman for every day of the week. Before you could dwell on your thoughts any further, the door to your cell creaked open, and in walked none other than your father. He sauntered over to where you were sitting and leaned against the metal bars.

“Let's see why Negan likes you so much,” he snarled, unbuckling his belt. Panic rose in your chest as you realized what he was about to do. You pleaded and begged for him to stop, but he just laughed and continued to unbuckle his belt.

He roughly pulled you towards him, his breath hot and reeking of alcohol. You could feel his hands running over your body, tearing at your clothes. You screamed and struggled, but your small frame was no match for his brute strength. “Stop fighting. It'll only make it worse,” he growled, a sadistic smile spreading across his face. He pulled off his belt, holding it in one hand as he grabbed you with the other. But before he could touch you again, the door burst open and Negan himself stormed in, Lucille in hand. “What the hell is going on here?!” he bellowed, his voice echoing off the walls. Your father froze, his eyes widening in fear. He dropped the belt and took a step back. “I was just, uh, teaching my kid a lesson,” he stammered, trying to regain control of the situation. Negan's eyes flickered to your tear-stained ones, and you could see the fury in them. “Is that so?” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Let me teach you a lesson, then.”

And with one swift swing, your father was dead. You dropped to the floor, numb with shock, as Negan dropped the bat and turned to face you.

“Let's get you cleaned up, sweetheart,” he said, gently helping you to your feet. But your legs gave way and you burst out in tears.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. You didn't resist, instead clutching onto him for dear life as you let out all your pent-up emotions. “He's gone now. It's okay,” Negan said, his voice surprisingly soft and comforting. He stroked your hair, trying to console you as best as he could. In that moment, Negan wasn't the notorious leader of the Saviors - he was just a man, offering comfort to someone who needed it.

But as your tears finally began to subside, you felt a sudden surge of emotions rushing through you. Without a second thought, you leaned in to kiss him, believing that this was what he wanted from you. But to your surprise, he pulled away, leaving you feeling confused and rejected. “Not when you're in this state, sweetheart,” he said, his voice now back to its usual rough tone.

Without another word, he led you back to your room, picking Lucille up along the way. Before long, you found yourself sitting on the edge of you bed. Negan disappears for a moment and comes back with a damp cloth. He ran the cloth gently over your scraped knees and dirt-caked hands, the cool water soothing against your skin.

“Come on, get back to bed, Darlin',”

You climbed into the sheets. You expected to hear the door open and shut again but when you didn’t you cast a confused glance around the room to find Negan taking a seat beside you.

“Aren’t you going to bed?” you asked, unsure of what his intentions were.

“I’m staying right here, making sure no one else harms you,” Negan replied, his intense gaze fixed on you, he leans forward, “And tomorrow, you will tell me who else was in on this, ‘cause I know he didn’t do it alone,”

As the night went on, you drifted off to sleep knowing that you were safe under Negan's watchful eye. And you went on to have the best sleep you’ve had in almost a decade.

The next morning, you woke up to find Negan still by your side, his head resting on his hand as he slept. You couldn't help but smile at the sight.

You turned over to watch him more closely, taking in all of his features. Negan was a tough and sometimes cruel man, but he had a softer side that he revealed only to you. His face had a few scars, but they only added to his rugged charm. His black hair was tousled from sleep and his stubble was growing in. You reached out to trace a finger along the lines of his jaw, admiring the way the sunlight hit his face. Negan stirred slightly, his hazel eyes opening to meet yours.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he said, his voice husky from sleep. He forward to move the hair out of your eyes, “How you feelin’?”

“You’re stayed here all night?”

“I told you I would,” he replied, his fingers tracing the curve of your jawline.

You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your stomach at his touch. You had never been one for romantic gestures, but there was something about Negan that made you feel safe. Something you had never felt, before or after the apocalypse. And you craved it. You craved him.

“Thank you, Negan,” you said, turning to kiss his palm.

“Now, who was it?” Negan asked, his blue eyes burning into yours. “Who helped your father last night, Darlin'? Who else touched you?”

“N-no one else,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. “Don't lie to me, sweetheart. I'll know if you're lying.” Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as the memories of your father's abuse flooded back to you 'It was... a man,' you finally admitted, your voice shaking. Negan's expression hardened. “Who was he?” You hesitated, knowing that your answer could have consequences, “I don't know his name. He was just some guy who my father probably tricked into taking me there,” you explained, feeling the weight of guilt and shame on your shoulders. Negan's jaw tightened, and he let out a low growl. “I'll make him pay,” he said, his voice filled with rage.

You shook your head, “No, if he had no idea that you didn’t make that order he shouldn’t be punished for it,”

“He touched you!” he growled, picking up Lucille and heading towards the door.

But you grabbed his arm, “No, please. It's over now. I'm safe here with you,” you said, looking up at him through your lashes, giving him the prettiest doe eyes, he’d ever seen. Negan's features softened as he looked down at you. “Don't you worry, sweetheart. No one will ever hurt you again,” he promised, placing a gentle hand on your cheek.

Without warning, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. It was like a firework had gone off in your chest, his touch igniting a passion within you that you had never known before. His lips were soft yet forceful, demanding and yet gentle. It was a kiss like you had never experienced before, and you couldn't help but melt into it, your hands instinctively reaching up to wrap around his neck as you deepened the kiss.

“Lay with me?” Your quiet voice asked, as you held out your hand towards Negan. He looked at you with surprise, not expecting such a request from you. But without hesitation, he took your hand and led you to your bed. “Of course, Darlin',” he said, a hint of gentleness in his rough voice. It had been so long since Negan had been in bed with a woman, but not for the usual reasons. He had spent so much time using women for his own pleasure, but with you, it was different. He wanted to protect you, to make sure you were safe. He wanted to love you.

As you lay down next to him in bed, Negan wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. You could feel his heartbeat, strong and steady, and it brought a sense of comfort to you. You closed your eyes, enjoying the warmth of his embrace.

You fell asleep again and when you woke up, he was gone. Not surprising. He is the leader after all. Your hand moves to your lips, tracing the smile that forms as you remember the feeling of Negan’s lips. But that smile quickly fades as your mind batters you with the events that led up to it.

You fall back on the edge of your bed, a darkness seeming to swallow the room. Your mind begins to play tricks on you as shadows flicker on the walls, triggering a panic that’s no longer in your control.

Your breaths quicken, chest tightening as if an invisible weight is pressing down on you. The night before, a haunting echo, flashes vividly past your eyes. It opens the floodgates, and everything your father ever did to you came crashing through.

You clutch your chest, nails biting into skin, desperate for any kind of release from the weight on your chest. But the rush of emotions, the echoes of fear, they're relentless.

At some point, you had slipped off the edge of your bed. Now you were curled up into a ball on the floor, your knees clutched to your chest as you try to block out the memories.

The memories were so loud, you didn’t hear him come in, so you jumped when a figure sat beside you. He pulled you into his arms. You resisted at first, your body stiff and rigid, but he whispered soothing words and held you tight until you finally relaxed into his embrace. “I got you, Darlin',” he murmured against your hair, pressing kisses to your temple.

[A/N] Part 2? With smut??

Sorry this took so long. I started rewatching where Negan comes into the series and I got a little sidetracked [Too busy 😍😍 to be paying attention to what was going on 😂😭] I also rewrote this about 7 or 8 times.

#reader insert #female reader #negan x reader #the walking dead x reader #negan x you

[praisethesuuun]

I can I request a Nikola Tesla NSFW alphabet please?💖

I hope I nailed this one or I'll cry-

NIKOLA TESLA: NSFW ALPHABET

A: aftercare <what they're like after sex>

I'm sorry, but it depends on the circumstances. It's possible that Tesla gets some ideas along the way for one of his inventions, so he runs off to jot it down somewhere, leaving you in an empty and cold bed. When he decides to give you the attention you deserve, the scientist always brings you something to drink or your favorite snack.

B: body part <their favourite body part on them and you>

I don't know if it can be considered a real part of the body, but Nikola prides himself a lot on his memory: it can remember your every favorite position or sensitive spot, leaving you breathless every time. His favorite part of your body is your knees, that's because it's not uncommon for you to kneel down for a service while he works in his workshop. Tesla likes to see the red on your legs, remembering of the wonderful time you two had together.

C: cum <anything to do with it, really>

Without a shadow of a doubt on the face, because it makes him feel proud of the work he has done. The scientist gets excited again every time you open your mouth full of his cum, swallowing it whole like the good girl you are.

D: dirty secret <a dirty secret of theirs>

Though he may appear innocent and determined, in the bedroom Nikola is ruthless. He loves to hear you pray for him, he has to be the only one for you and he doesn't hesitate to fuck you for hours on end, denying your climax.

E: experience <how experienced are they>

Tesla has never been in a serious relationship, so his experience is limited as he's only had one-night stands. This can be explained very easily: you are the only one who has stood by him despite his work, accepting the fact that you can't see the scientist too often, but enjoying great sex.

F: favourite position <self-explanatory>

He likes to hold you up with your back against the wall, fucking you dumb while kissing your neck and lips. Nikola bases everything on the temperature play between your body and the cold wall of his laboratory, giving you chills and goosebumps.

G: goofy <would they use humor in the moment?>

Of course, I think it was obvious. He often uses jokes to mock you, underlining your positions, not to mention when he starts speaking French, making you blush like never before. "Dans cette position, tu es magnifique, mon amour~" "Keep going, Nikola!"

H: hair <how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the courtains?>

The carpet is litgher compared to the curtains. Plus, it's not too clean since the scientist spends most of the day in the lab, thinking about anything but that; BUT, he still try to keep it clean for you (what a gentleman).

I: intimacy <are they romantic in the moment or they do not care?>

Just think of the way he remembers each of your body parts by heart or his willingness to speak different languages to turn you on. Tesla is one of the most romantic, you are his little flower in the middle of his world made of metal and iron.

J: jack off <...self-explanatory part 2>

You even caught him once: it may happen that Nikola can't see you enough to satisfy his needs, so every now and then, locking himself in his laboratory...

K: kinks <their kinks>

He goes nuts everytime you call him daddy, he just can't help it, it makes him feel so dominant! He also has a thing for temperature play, in particular Tesla likes to slide one of his iron tools over your skin, blindfolding you with his necktie.

L: location <where they usually do the do>

What better place than his beloved laboratory? There, the walls are soundproofed and no one can come and disturb you given the way Nikola cares about his privacy.

M: motivation <what turns them on>

Tesla gets hard when you listen carefully to him about everything about science, his inventions and his way of working. To see your eyes light up like that at his every word...Take off your clothes baby, you're in for a long night.

N: no <things they refuse to do>

He doesn't like it when you restrict him from seeing or touching you, he hates it. If you decide to do this, he will constantly whine like a newborn, forcing you to untie him.

O: oral <do they like giving or receiving?>

Receiving, absolutely. Especially when you decide to disturb or distract him from his work by carefully kneeling under his desk and unzipping it. "W-wait, honey! Let me just finish this- oh fuck~"

P: pace <are they slow and sensual or fast and rough>

Again, it depends on the day. If you are celebrating a successful Tesla project, then it will go fast and mercilessly, making you scream in a whirlwind of excitement. But the pace becomes slow when he sees how much he has neglected you in those days, trying to make it up to you and giving you all the attention you deserve.

Q: quickie <would they fuck you for five minutes or wait until you wait home?>

Quickies are a very normal thing, since you two don't know how much time will pass from your next fuck. Every place is good, whether it's a bar or his laboratory.

R: risk <...DUH>

In the name of science, yes. Tesla will push you to the limit, more out of curiosity than anything else, seeing how much you can handle.

S: stamina <how long can they last?>

If there's one thing Nikola doesn't lack, it's energy. It can go on as long as you like, never getting tired and ready for a new round whenever you come. Good luck!

T: toys <do they own any? do they use them?>

I mean...he can build them, so why not? Indeed, just from his careful analysis of you, he could be able to build the definitive toy. Do you know that he will use it on you relentlessly? Prepare yourself, you'll need it.

U: unfair <how much they like to tease>

He is the king of teasing. His favorite way to do it is cockwarming you while there are other people in the room, being careful not to get caught and moving occasionally to make you sigh.

V: volume <are they asking for a noise complaint, or are they quiet?>

Tesla is so noisy! No, seriously, how can you handle it? He start throwing all phrases in French, compliments or how much he's enjoying the moment. He can't shut up.

W: wild card <a random headcanon☆>

Once you forgot to lock the lab door, so one of his helpers came in at just the worst time. Tesla didn't seem disturbed, on the other hand you were dying of embarrassment, just like the poor fellow who saw you.

X: x-ray <what to they look like under there?>

I mean, he's pretty big, with the base slightly larger that the tip, that is #e0aaa8. Tesla's dick has some small veins here and there.

Y: yearning <are they in the mood to fuck or are they tame?>

Given how busy his work is, Nikola has to bottle all the hornyness he has, leading him to pounce on you every chance he gets.

Z: zzz <how quickly they fall asleep afterwards>

Nah, he doesn't fall asleep. I don't even know if you've ever seen him do that...

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror x you #snv x reader #snv x you #request #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #ror tesla #snv tesla #nikola tesla #record of ragnarok tesla

[moonttaeil]

trust fund baby; pt. I

▶ Pairing: Doyoung x reader. 

▶ Word count: 25k.

▶ ; very angsty; part of a series but can be read as a standalone; doyoung is rude; I don't remember the main triggers I'm so sorry; talks of violence; substance consumption; slow burn; NSFW at some point;

THE TRUST FUND BABY – DOYOUNG – This guy is everything a fraternity’s dreams are made of. He is always decked out in designer gear. Every. Single. Day. We get it, you have money and are probably a business major. He’s the most confident person in the room because he knows nothing can touch him thanks to mommy and daddy’s money. Humility is probably not something he practices very often, so don’t be surprised when he acts like he owns the place (and his parents might actually own the place).

Doyoung’s hand was tightly grasping the phone while he talked with his father. His designer button-up shirt was neatly ironed and looked good on his slender body, his hair always in check and his aura giving out the fact that he had everything under control. Well, almost everything. 

“But father I—“he tried to speak, just to be cut off by his father’s voice through the line. He sighed, nodding while he still listened to his words. “Okay, I understand what you’re trying to say, but don’t you think I have to at least—“, but he was cut off again. 

His mission to persuade his father into not making him meet yet another of the daughters of his associates was unsuccessful once again. He looked out of the window of his room, just to see his frat brothers preparing everything for the party that they here having tonight. His father’s voice was still talking through the phone, but he had already shut his voice out. “Okay” was the only thing he answered to whatever he had said, giving up on changing his father’s ideas. 

Having the luxury life Doyoung was used to have, it came with different consequences, just like having to agree with everything his parents said. “Doyoung, you need to take private riding lessons”, when he was seven. “Doyoung, you need to know at least four different languages”, when he was twelve. “Doyoung, you should, and will, be taking piano classes until you finish high school”, when he was fifteen. “Doyoung, you will major in business so you can take the reins once we’re gone”, when he had to choose what to study in college. 

He always obeyed what his parents told him to do, but maybe this was taking it too far. They were choosing who he had to date, and probably who he had to marry one day. The rage he had felt inside of himself was building ever since he wanted to drop out of piano lessons because he thought it was boring, but they didn’t let him. 

Doyoung has always had different interests than his parents. Instead of horse riding, he had always wanted to learn how to ride a motorcycle. Instead of knowing four different languages, he had always wanted to travel around the world as a backpacker. Instead of piano lessons, he had always wanted to learn to play the electric guitar. 

But the stern look on his parents’ faces, and the threats of leaving him without a penny from his inheritance, made him too afraid to even think about rebelling against them. 

“Doyoung, we need help with the drinks” Taeyong, one of his best friends on the frat house, popped his head through his door, making Doyoung snap out of his deep thinking. “Yeah—I’ll be there in a second” he nodded back at him, as he opened his wardrobe to change his clothes. 

The fact that Doyoung was in a fraternity was also part of his parents’ job. His father was part of that same fraternity, and so was his grandfather. It was funny the day he appeared to apply to enter, because everyone knew whose surname he proudly wore. 

At the end, everyone knew who owned the house where the twenty one brothers lived in and threw parties constantly. 

He looked at himself in the mirror of his bathroom. He ruffled his dark fluffy hair, making it messy. He took off the formal clothes he wore on campus and threw on an oversized t-shirt and some jeans. 

Those were the times he felt normal. When they had a party, when he was around his frat brothers, or when he just acted like a normal kid who wasn’t drowning in money, those were the times he felt most happy. And he tried to seize every moment, knowing that the time was limited. Once he finished college, his limited freedom would be completely gone.

The loud music made your head hurt once you entered the house. This was the first time you attended a fraternity house party, and for now it wasn’t something spectacular. “Okay, but do we know someone here?” you asked your best friend, whose eyes were already set on every boy that passed by her. 

“No, but we’re here to make friends Y/N” her voice shouted over the sound of the music blasting on the speakers, and you just shook your head. The Greek life on campus wasn’t something you were interested into. You always thought these people had too much money to enter a fraternity, for what? To brag about how much they could spend on a party for hundreds of people? It was ridiculous. 

Making your way over where the drinks were, you felt a hand creep on your butt. Turning around quickly, you caught the person who was responsible for such actions. “What the fuck—“you shouted, and the boy in front of you just smirked, winking one eye at you. “If you ever touch me again I’ll make sure to chop off your hands, you got me?” you pointed an accusing finger at him, making his eyes widen at your words. 

You felt your friend’s hands on your forearm, dragging you back. “What the hell was that Y/N?” she spoke, still holding you while you both walked to the kitchen. “What do you mean—he was touching me without consent” you shouted back, now very angry. 

“What if you stopped being so defensive and maybe—I don’t know, let yourself loose a little?” she asked giving you a cup with some liquid you couldn’t recognize. Your eyelids had a heavy dark make up on, that contrasted with your eyes when you rolled them back. “I’m trying but that doesn’t mean I’m letting some spoiled brats touch me whenever they want” you spat back, drinking from your cup. 

“I understand perfectly what you’re trying to say, yes” she nodded, also sipping from her cup. “But not everyone here is bad and malicious” she laughed back, and leaned on the counter next to you. “Do you see that boy over there, with the snapback?” she pointed at a tall boy whose dimples were showing while he talked. 

“His name is Jaehyun, and I’ve heard around that he’s—let’s just say he likes to take control in bed” she nudged at you, a sly smirk appearing on your face. “And do you see that one over there?” she now pointed at another body who had a little ponytail and a wide smile. 

“His name is Yuta” she spoke close to your ear so you could hear her perfectly, “oh don’t tell he’s the one that—“ you started to speak but shut yourself up when you saw her nodding in approval, a smirk also displayed on her face. 

“Maybe this party is fun after all” you added, your eyes set on the different boys around the room. 

Having a life full of freedom was something that your parents have taught you ever since you were little. You wanted to go and play in the mud? Go ahead. You wanted to paint the walls of your bedroom with your bare hands? Yes, of course, that’s a great way of letting your creativity flow. 

You’ve never had someone telling you the things you couldn’t do, and because of the great example your parent were to you, you had achieved many things in life. Your passions changed constantly, but the effort and love you put on every single one of them gave off its benefits. 

That’s how you entered college, majoring in art. Some people said that it was worthless to study art, what would you work on afterwards? They would always ask. But that’s not something you were worrying about, at the end, maybe you weren’t even alive by the time you had to look for a job. Living on the present, as you liked to call it, you almost never thought about what your future plans were, or what you did a year ago. That something you couldn’t change, either way. 

After hours on the party, and maybe too much drinks for you, you were finally letting yourself go. Happily chatting with everyone around, laughing and flirting with every boy that had the chance to speak with you. You loved the attention, and the fact that you always acted uninterested made it more fun. 

Walking back to the table where the alcohol was still, you tripped over somebody, pouring the rest of your cup over your clothes. “What the fuck?! You should watch where you’re going!” you shouted at the tall boy who had bumped into you. 

His eyes narrowed at you, “watch your mouth” he threatened, looking down at your damp clothes. “What--? Do you see this?” you tried to take the shirt far from your body, as the alcohol was making it feel sticky on your skin. “Yeah I see—I’m sorry, maybe you should look where you’re going too” he simply answered back, shrugging his shoulders mindlessly.

It made your blood boil inside of your veins as you clenched your hands. The alcohol wasn’t making it easy to control your rage, nor the words that were about to leave your mouth. “Excuse me?!” the screech of your voice made him narrow his eyes. “I believe you’re the one guilty here, so I don’t understand the attitude”. 

Wrinkles appeared on his face as he couldn’t understand why you were screaming after he had apologized. Some people had turned their faces to look at your wide eyes and head looking up at the mysterious boy in front of you. “Look, I said I’m sorry—don’t make a scene in front of everyone here” he leaned down a bit, trying to keep the conversation between your two. His breath hit your ear as he spoke and it made you shiver, which you couldn’t understand at all. Blame it on the alcohol, Y/N, the little voice appeared on your mind. 

“I’m not making a scene—“ 

“Oh?” he smirked, and turned his head to look around the room. Your eyes followed his, to just realize that a lot of girls had a really angry expression on their faces and some boys were looking funny at you. “Look I don’t care—“ 

“You sure?” he asked again, now trying to make you even more angry. You knew it, just by the look on his face, you knew he was having fun. “I don’t know who you are—and I don’t want to know, but you should watch your attitude with people who you don’t know at all” you threatened him, you index finger accusing him. The black haired boy raised a questioning brow at your threat, and took you’re your finger. “And you should learn some manners, pointing at people? That’s rude” he laughed. “Look, you can stay—you’re cute, but—“he stopped, biting his lip as he looked around the room, “if you make a scene again, you will have problems” he was the one to threaten now. 

The tone of his voice made all of your blood drain from your face. He had a stern expression on his, not a sign of emotion could be seen. And you felt fear for the first time that night. His aura was not something you were accustomed to, and you knew he was dangerous. Not gang member dangerous, no. You knew he was way too smart for that. He did not play. 

His stone-cold eyes found yours for the last time before he moved, leaving you speechless and alone. 

Your hand trembled as you were holding the brush. Your eyes were set on the canvas in front of you. All white. No colour. It was empty, just like your head. You took down your hand and placed the brush again on the little table that was on your right side. This has been the third day of not painting. And this project was due—twelve hours. 

A loud and annoyed sigh left your mouth as you let your head drop back, eyes closed tightly. “What the hell!” you shouted frustrated. This has never happened to you before. Your imagination was wild all the time, the ideas had always flowed perfectly from your mind to your hand and onto the canvas in front of you. Then what the hell was happening to you now?

“Hey Y/N” Xiao Jun, your flat mate, entered your room after hearing you scream for the tenth time that day. You didn’t even answer back as he neared you to also look at the plain white canvas in front of you. “I see you haven’t really advanced anything on this project” he patted your shoulder. “And mister obvious appears once again” you answered laughing, making him smile down at you. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked sitting down on your bed, his elbows leaning on his knees as he looked up at your worried face. “I haven’t seen you this blocked in like—I don’t know, ever since we were ten?” he laughed. “I don’t know I’m just— I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I just don’t have anything on my mind” you looked down at your empty hand, and then at the white canvas in front of you. 

“How long have you been like this?” he asked you again, and you avoided his eyes. Xiao Jun was someone you really appreciated to have in your life but both of you didn’t really—match on personalities. It was like day and night. Like the sun and the moon. Like water and fire. You had first met him when you two were seven year olds, on your first day of school. He had seen you doing all kind of crazy stuff and always tried to stop you before it was too late. Let’s just say that he was the—brain on the friendship. 

“I don’t know maybe—two, three days?” you murmured, still avoiding his eyes. “Has something happened to you lately? Maybe something that had made you feel nervous, or scared or—“ 

“No!” you were quick to fire back, “I’m not afraid of anything, you know that” you answered standing up from your stool, taking off the stained clothes you always used to paint. He sighed as he looked at your naked body, changing in front of him. You were so used to his presence, that it was something completely normal. At least that’s what you thought. 

“You know—it’s normal to be frightened of things Y/N, we’re all humans” he tried to speak calmly. “Yes, but nothing has happened to me lately, so don’t worry” you turned around to smile at him. His eyes were narrowed at you, he had never seen you being so defensive. He had never seen you so irritated and frustrated. You were now tying your hair up on a bun as you looked at yourself in the mirror, he stood up to stand behind you, looking at your reflection. 

“Don’t tell me you got rejected” he smirked, cautiously studying your reaction. Your eyes widened and so did your mouth. “What! No!” you quickly answered, turning around to hit him on the shoulder. “What was that for?” he whined holding his shoulder. “Don’t be a pussy, I didn’t even hit you that hard—“

“Where are you going?” he asked as you were now taking your jacket. “Somewhere to inspire myself” you answered. “You’re going to get drunk on a Wednesday?” he asked following you out of your room. A laugh escaped your mouth as you felt his steps behind you, “Why? You want to come?” 

He stopped to look at you put on your shoes, his body leaning on the wall. “No, I’m the responsible one, remember?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, don’t make me laugh Xiaojun” you answered, still struggling to put on your shoes. “No but really, a class mate is coming in like—“ he looked at his watch with narrowed eyes, “—thirty minutes and we have to finish a project for class, and he’s a bit—“ he looked at the ceiling, trying to find the right words. 

“An idiot?” you asked him, putting on your jacket. “No, he’s too much of a perfectionist” he answered, his arms still crossed over his chest. “Well, I’ll try to come after midnight so I don’t bother the business men in the house” you shrugged smiling. “This is also your home, you won’t be bothering anyone” he tried to reassure you. “I know dumbass, I don’t know who mister perfect is but I’ll be back home for dinner, and do you want me to bring you something?” 

“I’ll text you later”

The sun was setting, painting all of your surroundings a deep tone of orange. You were walking for about two hours now, alone. Your hands were on your pockets, and you just tried to take in everything around you, from the buildings to the people. Nothing made you really think, nothing made you really excited. Instead of finding the little details that made your heart thump in your chest with new ideas, you just found everything to be plain and boring. 

You sighed again and closed your eyes, stopping in the middle of sidewalk. You couldn’t keep lying to yourself, the only thing you could see with your eyes closed was his face. The face of the boy who didn’t even flinch at your words, the one who didn’t give you a second look before turning around after threatening you with simple words. 

“Who the hell are you?” you whispered, finally opening your eyes. The golden sun that bathed everything orange was almost gone, the darkness of the night slowly falling on the streets you were walking on. Once again, it was unsuccessful for you to find inspiration. Your muses were gone ever since your encounter with that stranger, who unconsciously had turned your life upside down. 

You dragged your feet slowly, not wanting to go back home to just look at the white canvas. Almost all hope of finishing that project for tomorrow was gone. Maybe if you just painted a simple—no, you knew you were not a simple person, and so did your professors. They had always praised you for not being conventional, for taking risks and doing it your way. 

But this? This was something you have never experienced before. 

You took out your keys and opened the front door, sighing. Maybe it was the best to paint something simple, pretty with great colour scheme. “I’m home” you shouted, announcing your arrival to your flatmate. “We’re in the living room Y/N” you heard Xiao Jun’s voice resonate on the walls. We are? You asked yourself, it was almost 10 P.M., what the hell was his classmate doing here still?

With a tired and annoyed expression you entered the living room. Your feet stopped moving as you saw the back of who you supposed it was Xiaojun’s classmate. His black hair and broad shoulders. Your breathing hitched and your eyes widened. “Oh, Y/N you’re already here? We were just giving the final review on our project” Xiao Jun turned around to smile at you. The boy sitting next to him turned around to look at you too, and that was the moment your whole world crashed down. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” you grimaced when your eyes met his. His eyebrows shot at your harsh words and so did Xiao Jun’s. “You know Doyoung?” he asked you, pointing at his classmate. “Doyoung? So that’s mister perfect’s name?” you asked and moved to sit down on the couch opposed to them. 

“Y/N—“Xiao Jun tried to stop you, but your eyes were set on Doyoung’s face. 

“No” Doyoung stopped him, smirking. “Y/N, right?” he asked, looking back at you. You could just nod at him while your eyes travelled on his face, taking in every detail. “Me and Y/N met in a party my fraternity was throwing three days ago and we had a little—misunderstanding” he chose his words wisely. 

“Misunderstanding?” you murmured repeating his words. “But everything’s fine now, isn’t it?” his tone of voice changed unexpectedly. He had used the same tone of voice he used on the party. His eyes were cutting through you and for some reason you felt small around him. Words couldn’t come out of your mouth and you felt your palms getting sweaty. 

Standing up quickly you ran out of the room, unable to keep looking at him anymore. The loud sound the door made when it was closed made both men flinch in their seat. “Hey Y/N—“you heard Xiao Jun shout behind you. “What the hell is wrong with her?” you could hear his words again, confusion tainting them. 

Your back was glued to the door, your palms at each side of your body. Usually you didn’t lose control like this, so easily. But he managed to make you go crazy with every simple word he muttered, how was that even possible? How did he do it? Closing your eyes, there he was again. His face waiting in the dark to appear once again in your mind, his narrowed eyes and sly smirk, he had made his way into your life and now it seemed like you couldn’t make him disappear. 

With a deep breathe you opened your eyes again. You were safe. You were in your room. Everything seemed normal, it felt almost like a bad dream. Losing composure like that wasn’t something you used to do, why now? The white canvas was still waiting for you at the end of your room, it was almost as if it was laughing at you. How pathetic, a boy appears in your life and he does not only make you go crazy, he disables you to do what you most love. 

Their voices could be heard from the other side of the door which you were still leaning on. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning so we can give it a final touch, is that alright with you?” Doyoung’s voice was stern, almost as if he was a parent scolding his child. You couldn’t hear Xiao Jun’s response, he didn’t manage to do well in front of people who were more intimidating than him. 

“And—“ Doyoung’s voice made an appearance once again, “—I’m sorry for what happened with Y/N” a scoff followed next, “I thought we left everything clear at the party, but I guess she’s still pissed at me for no apparent reason” 

For no apparent reason? You were fuming. Almost ready to go out and slap off his beautiful face that smirk you’ve seen so little times but memorized perfectly in your mind. But if you got out there and made a scene again, he would think he won over you and your little patience. “I’ll try to apologize the next time I see her” his voice appeared again, and Xiao Jun’s little laugh was next. Apologize? 

You were so confused. What made him think he would see you again? Why did he want to apologize if there was no apparent reason to be mad? Why was he so obnoxious? With your hands still on each side of your body, you sat down rigid on the stool in front of that damn white canvas. Enough was enough. You couldn’t let a stranger make you lose control like this. 

Taking a deep breath, again, again and again. You finally picked up the small brush and prepared all the colours you wanted to use. Maybe this was your mind making it all up, but if you didn’t finish this, if you let the frustration Doyoung has created win over you, it would mean he had won. He had won a battle he didn’t even know he was having with you. 

“That bastard—who does he think he is?” your hisses filled the room as you changed your clothing into something you could freely stain. Xiao Jun entered the room without you even realizing. His presence was sometimes like a shadow. “I swear if I see him again –“ 

“So he was the one who rejected you?” 

His words made you turn around in surprise. Your eyes were wide, and your ears were starting to get red because of the embarrassment. “Who said he rejected me?” you defended yourself, still mad. The smirk on his face made it obvious he didn’t need any more information about the situation. 

Doyoung hasn’t rejected you. Has he? No. that’s impossible, you didn’t even make a move on him. He simply poured all of his drink over you by accident. But he didn’t give you a second glace, that’s also true. That hasn’t happened before, right? Was that the problem? Was it because he had completely ignored you as a woman? Was that the reason you were going crazy? Because a boy ignored you?

“I don’t know what you’re thinking about, Xiaojun, but whatever it is, I don’t want to hear it” you decided to let this slip by. You didn’t need his judging eyes on you. “Don’t worry, it’s not because of you. Doyoung’s too much into studying to even think about girls, you’re not the problem Y/N” he said before leaving your room. 

Your eyes were still wide, the stained clothes you used for painting sessions were tightly wrapped around your hands. Your heart was thumping in your chest, how did he know what were you thinking? 

You let yourself sit down on the stool again. Your shoulders were still tense, and so were your hands. You wouldn’t be able to paint if you were this tense, it wouldn’t work out. Closing your eyes again, there he was. Waiting for you to close your eyes so he could appear. “I’m going crazy” was the only thing you could say. 

“Okay then—if this is how my mind wants to play games on me, let’s play” you whispered before picking up the brush again. If he was the only thing you could think of, then he would be the subject of your project. 

The clock was ticking on the wall as you were waiting for your professor to finish with the lecture. You hated this, you only liked the classes where you could put on practice everything he teaches on the boring lectures. You managed to zoom out of the class again, thinking about nothing and everything. Your eyes were focused on the pencil on your hands. 

You made it twirl between your fingers, your bored expression too obvious. People started to move around you and you realized that class was over. Finally. 

“Y/N” the professor called you before exiting. You scrunched your nose, it wasn’t the first time he had seen you daydream in his classes, was he pissed about that now? “I wanted to talk to you about your last project” his words were firm as he looked around some papers. Your heart stopped in your chest. Was he talking about Doyoung’s portrait? 

“What about it? Is it that bad? It’s my first time trying out a realistic portrait, I’m aware it’s not completely—“ 

“Will you let me talk?” he stopped you, all your blood draining from your face. “Yes, sir” you muttered quietly, too embarrassed to even look at him anymore. “I was going to praise you on how good it was” he spoke again, looking up at you from his seat. The surprised expression on your face made him smile back at you. “And I was going to ask you if you would let us include it into the exposition we’re making in two weeks on the gallery” he explained again. 

His words entered your mind but they made no sense. Your professors had always praised you on your work, but it was the first time someone has asked you to include your work for an exposition. “It would be auctioned afterwards, so if you don’t want to do it I’ll understand”. 

You couldn’t answer to anything he was saying, too shocked to think about everything that was going on. So first he appears out of nowhere, he ignores you, he haunts you in your mind, and now, on top of everything, he was the one responsible for you to finally have the chance to hang your work on an exposition? He really made you go crazy. 

“Professor” you finally spoke after a heartbeat, “can I think about it first? As you said, it’s my first portrait and if it’s going to be auctioned later on, it would be a great loss for me” you tried to sound sad, almost as if you wanted to cry. His eyebrows shot up in surprise because of your reaction, “yeah, of course—take your time” he quickly answered. 

“Thank you” was the only thing you said before stomping out of the room. Your legs moved quickly around campus, you needed to get home first. Talk to Xiao Jun. Cry out your frustration, and then make a decision. You didn’t even know why he made you so mad, you didn’t even know him. You had only spoken to him two times. Y/N, what’s wrong with you? The little voice inside of your head made an appearance. 

“I don’t fucking know what’s wrong with me” you hissed back. 

“Y/N!” You heard someone shout behind you, making you stop. Turning around, you narrowed your eyes to catch who was calling you out. Xiao Jun’s face appeared as he was making his way to where you were standing. But he wasn’t alone. 

Doyoung’s strong tall figure was walking by his side. He was taller than Xiao Jun, but he was as slender as him. Both men were dressed up nicely, their hairstyles on check, just like their faces. They were the epitome of perfection. And that bothered you, a lot. “Where were you going in such a hurry?” he asked once he was in front of you, Doyoung silently standing by his side. 

“Oh—home” you answered, unable to look at him or Doyoung. “Home? You never hurry to go home” he laughed, trying to catch your gaze. “It’s because I have work to do—another project” you tried to explain quickly, feeling too awkward to be around them. “Oh, what did you do for your last project?” He asked again, and it bothered you how talkative and quirky he suddenly was. 

“I didn’t do it—I couldn’t concentrate” 

“Oh, Xiao told me about it—was it because of the little argument we had?” Doyoung was the one to talk now, a big smile appearing on his face. As if he knew he had won. “What? No, no—I just—it was a very difficult project and I couldn’t find inspiration to… finish it” you lied through your teeth, feeling guilty to be lying at your best friend. 

“Well, I’m sorry for that—and, if you’re still bothered about that… I apologize for my behaviour” he spoke calmly, his eyes never leaving your face, as if he was used to apologizing for things he believed he wasn’t guilty for. “I—well…” you tried to answer, but the words wouldn’t come out. Well, this really did feel awkward. 

“Oh Y/N, Doyoung’s parents have a gallery nearby—I thought you would like to go and check it out sometime” Xiao was the one to break the tension, trying to make you calm down. “Yeah that’d be—nice” you tried to sound friendly, but you still couldn’t believe how Doyoung apologized again. Why did he behave so differently? It seems like he wasn’t the same boy who bumped into you at the party. Perhaps he was drunk? No, that couldn’t be possible, he maintained his composure just like now, and the only thing that changed was his tone of voice. 

“They’re also having an—“

“Look boys, I’d love to stay and chat but I really have to get home now—“you were speaking as you were slowly walking backwards, running away from them. “But—“ 

“I’ll see you home Xiao!”

When did you start running away from people Y/N? The little voice inside of your head asked. I’m not running away from--, but you were. You were running away from him. Why were you so scared to be around him, this has never happened before? 

The way back home was filled with arguments between you and the little voice inside of your mind. Why did you even think about it so much? Why did he make you feel so uncomfortable? You didn’t even know him, damn it. 

Home felt lonely without Xiaojun. Slumped down on the couch, you had your eyes fixed on the screen in front of you, mindlessly playing yet another episode of a stupid drama you decided to watch just to clear your mind. But nothing made you really forget about him. Were you really going mad?

A deep sigh left your mouth as you slouched even deeper on the couch, your head between your shoulders, a position that would probably lead you to have real bad back pains in the morning. “What is wrong with me?” you muttered out loud. Your phone was lying down next to you, you took it back up. No notifications. No calls. “Were did my social life go?” 

Your mind wandered back to your room, where yet another white canvas was patiently waiting to be painted. Remembering back when you painted Doyoung’s portrait, you felt really frustrated for that being the only thing that your hands were able to transfer from your mind to the canvas. Your finished that damn portrait in less than five hours, that being your very first portrait. 

The look he had the night you met him. That’s the only thing you were thinking about when you were deep into the painting session. His harsh yet simple words. The fact that he didn’t give you a second glance that night. How he threatened you. Nobody has spoken to you that way before. 

The painting was nice. The colours were great. But it was nothing spectacular, why did your professor want it to be hung on the gallery? It had nothing special. You had hundreds of painting better than that one, and none of them have had that recognition. 

Was it because you really let your mind do the work, instead of your hands? Was that even possible?

That’s it. You were officially going mad. 

With a quick movement you sat straight on the couch. “I’m not letting that little fucker ruin my spirit!” your words came out harsh, resonating on the walls of the living room, mixing themselves with the sound that was coming out of the television. 

The sound of keys opening the front door made you lose focus, turning yourself around to finally greet Xiaojun. “You’re back home?” you shouted as you stood up, tripping over your own foot as you made your way to the entrance. Your own excitement of having your best friend back home, someone to talk with about this damn problem that was eating you alive. 

What you didn’t expect was to not only hear his voice, but the voice of that someone who has been tormenting you for the past week and half. “I’ll be ready real quick, just—oh, Y/N, you’re here” Xiaojun’s smile greeted you when he saw you wrapped up in a blanket waiting by the entrance. 

“Where was I supposed to be?” you asked incredulous, totally ignoring Doyoung’s presence in your house. 

His smile slowly dropped. “Well, is Friday night—I thought you’d go out” he quickly spoke as he moved past you, entering inside of the house. “Doyoung! Make yourself at home, I’ll be ready in ten” he said without looking back, directly entering his room. 

You were left alone with him at the entrance. His eyes were set on you, his aura calm. He proceeded to take off his shoes, but you didn’t take your eyes off of him, narrowing your look at his every movement. “Look, I can wait here if you’re not comfortable with me entering—“ 

“No, you heard Xiao, make yourself at home” you quickly stopped him from talking, turning back and entering the living room once again. It was Friday night? Why are you home on a Friday night? You asked yourself. You were the outgoing one, why was Xiaojun suddenly going out on a Friday night?

“My brothers are throwing a party tonight, you’re invited… if you want to come“ Doyoung announced sitting down on the couch next to yours, trying to catch your eyes. But you were not having it, your own eyes glued to the screen in front of you. “Only if you don’t make a scene like last time” he scoffed under his breath, this situation was clearly funny to him. 

“I’m good, but thanks” you quickly answered, making the tension between you two grow bigger. “Why are you like this?” he asked, his tone of voice still calm. With furrowed eyebrows, you maintained your eyes looking straight. “Well, you are clearly behaving like a little girl” he spoke again, now looking also at the screen. 

“Who do you think—“ 

“You’re behaving just like the last time” he looked back at you, successfully catching your eyes. “But now you’re not throwing a fit, you’re just trying to ignore me… tell me, is it because I make you nervous?” the smirk on his face was showing up again, and that made you want to brush it off with a punch. 

“What makes you believe you—out of everyone in this world, would make me nervous?” you laughed back, way too tense. “Well—I wouldn’t like meeting someone who knows how to put me in my place with simple words either” he showed a full smile now, totally opposite to his harsh words. 

The sound of the television was totally muffled in your mind. You clenched your hands under the blanket repeatedly. “You did not put me in my place” you tried to sound harsh as he did, but it clearly came out weak. 

“Sure”

The shrug of his shoulders really made you lose it. As you opened your mouth, ready to let out all kind of barbarities, Xiao exited his room. “I’m ready” he announced as he still brushed the hair out of his eyes. The tension between you and Doyoung could be easily felt, and Xiao noticed it quickly. “Um—Y/N, you’re coming with us?” he asked, trying to ease the atmosphere. 

“No, those frat parties are too boring for me” the answer was simple, but it was directly addressed to Doyoung. 

“I thought you were having fun last time, with all those men around you” he was quick to answer, a sly smirk on his face again. It made your blood boil, why? Because he wasn’t one of those men? “I haven’t been to any still, don’t spoil it for me Y/N” Xiao intervened again, already making his way to the entrance. 

“Don’t black out Xiao, I’m not going to get you!” you threatened from the living room, only earning a couple of laughs from the two of them. “I’ll take care of him Y/N” Doyoung spoke again, and his voice was the last thing you wanted to hear. 

And then, they left. 

“Damn it!” your fists punched the couch underneath you. “How does that little fucker know what I’m thinking about all the time?” you asked yourself standing up. 

Distraction. That’s what you needed. 

You made your way back to your room, where the white canvas was waiting. “I have to clear my mind of him” you spoke softly, sitting down on the stool in front of it. The colours you wanted to use were ready, the brushes were also sorted out. But your mind was blank. “What now?” you asked yourself, looking down at your hands. 

“Are you two going to cooperate or no?!” you screamed at them. “Okay—I’m really losing it” you sighed. Closing your eyes, you decided to be the one cooperating this time. “There’s no use to force things, right?” you spoke softly as Doyoung’s eyes appeared in front of you again. 

You took the brush up. If this was going to be this way, you had to at least clear your mind in some way. You didn’t care if it was another portrait of him. You just had to calm down, clear it out, and then move on.

Doyoung’s head hurt like hell as he walked around the house full of people. The music was too loud, increasing the pain of his headache. His eyes were red and glossy. He didn’t have to drink that much that night, he was now regretting it. But he always did that after an argument with his parents.

“I’m not meeting anymore bratty rich girls father!” he had finally snapped that same evening. He was talking on the phone again, of course his father wouldn’t come to see him. They haven’t seen each other since the school year started. “Doyoung, you will do as I say” his voice came out stern, making Doyoung’s blood freeze in his veins. 

“I believe that’s something too private for you to decide on it” he had answered back, ready to finally win this battle with him. He was tired. Tired of being thrown around like a rag doll, forced to do everything he hated deep inside. “Oh” his father let out a laugh from the other line, “don’t tell me you have a girlfriend? I thought you were too focused on your studies, maybe you’re not focusing enough, huh?” he had asked. 

“What if I did?” Doyoung asked back, pushing his limits to the end. “Then you’ll have to end it” 

His father’s words kept repeating over and over again as he made his way to his room upstairs. Everything was spinning around, he couldn’t focus his gaze on anything without the room turning upside down suddenly. “You will do as I say, Doyoung”, those words kept tormenting him for the last twenty years of life. 

He finally arrived to his dark room. The sound of the music blasting outside was now muffled by the walls, the only source of light were the neon lights they had put outside on the yard. His body fell down on the bed on the centre of the room, his forearm quickly falling on top of his face, covering his eyes. 

“I’ve been doing as you say all my life father” he murmured to himself, holding back the tears. Was it because he was drunk? Was it because he was frustrated? Was it because he was sad? He didn’t know. But all he wanted to do was to cry. He has never cried before, it was forbidden. Men don’t cry Doyoung, they confront the situation, his father’s words made their way back into his mind. 

He had been building up the anger inside of his chest for the past years, successfully holding himself as a man, like his father had said. But what he didn’t know is that, all the anger he was holding inside had a date of expiry, and it may have finally come time for the bomb to stop ticking. It was about to explode, and it was about to destroy everything his father had created out of nothing. 

“I’ve been doing as you say all my life—it’s time to change the rules of the game, father” he muttered one last time. 

No tears were felt. He held himself together. Once again, he let all the anger build up just to let it all out at once. “This is the end, father”. 

It was two A.M. And you finally put down the brush. It was Doyoung again. He was the one looking at you from the other side of the canvas. His dark eyes were the one cutting through your soul. You didn’t know how you achieved that look, but it scared you. Was it like that the last time you saw him? Were his eyes so tormented the last time you spoke with him? Or was your own mind playing games with you?

A deep sigh left your lungs as you kept looking at the painting. Have you really failed to see his real expression when you were in front of him? Was he really sad? You had too much questions, and all of them bothered you to no end. You shouldn’t be worried about a damn stranger, you should be out with your friends partying, not in your room painting a portrait of someone who seemed to be living a hell of a life. In a bad way. 

Your hands trembled as you kept looking at him. Your mind must be playing games on you. He seemed calm and collected every time you saw him, he didn’t seem sad nor miserable. Why did you paint him like this? “This is stupid” you said taking the canvas and leaving it on the floor, leaning on the wall next to your bed. “I shouldn’t have done this” you spoke again, looking down at the painting. 

As you changed your clothes you thought again about your professor’s offer. Maybe it was a good idea to expose one of your paintings, and maybe someone would buy it. But again, who would want a portrait of a stranger hanging on their wall? Well—there’s weird people out there, you nodded to yourself. 

“I shouldn’t worry too much about it” you spoke again, now lying down on your bed, your eyes fixed on the ceiling above from you. “Let’s just try to sell it and ignore him forever”. 

A week had successfully passed and it seemed like Doyoung visit less your mind. But Xiaojun made sure to bring him up whenever he spoke about something about his classes. How convenient for him to be his classmate.

“Are you going to come with me tonight?” you asked him as he entered the house, later than usual. His eyes snapped up with surprise. “Tonight?” he asked again, confused. Your heart stopped for a second, you were excited to go to the exposition in the gallery with him, but again, he shouldn’t be ready to go with you whenever you asked him to. “Oh—oh my god, the gallery!” he screamed, suddenly remember his mistake. 

“Oh god Y/N! I totally forgot about it!” he made his way towards you, his arms open as he embraced you with his slim body. “Don’t worry Xiao—it’s okay, damn it you’re suffocating me” you fought against his arm to set free. 

“I can’t come—I have a paper due tomorrow and I haven’t finished it yet” he apologized. The sadness in his eyes was clear, and your heart felt heavy of guiltiness when you saw him like that because of you. “Hey—look at me” you took his face in your hand to make him look at you, his eyes moving to look at you. 

Your faces were close. Too close. Suddenly it seemed like you had forgotten how to breathe properly. His eyes were travelling from yours, down to your lips and then back up. The same pattern over and over again. 

His arms were still around you, his hands still on your lower back. It was hard to mute the loud thumping of your heart against your chest. You forgot what you were about to tell him. It was the first time you both were this close without joking. His face was serious, and so was yours. “Y/N…” he muttered, and his voice made you snap out. 

What are you doing Y/N!?, the little voice inside of your head appeared, an alarm going off. What was going on? No- no, this was wrong. Slowly you moved your face to the left, breaking the eye contact. “I should get going—“you spoke back, his hands falling from around your body. 

His head hung low and he was biting the inside of his cheek. He felt awkward, you could feel it. It broke your heart to see him like this, to know you were the one responsible for his hurt. “I’ll be back soon! It would be great if you left some leftovers for me, mister perfect!” you screamed from the entrance, trying to ease the tension that had built between you two. 

“Yeah, will do” he responded as he made his way back to his room, without giving a second look. 

Your heart broke every time you reminisced that time. That time when Xiaojun finally made a move, after month of you telling him to do what his heart told him to do. He had talked to you about this girl he liked. He had a beautiful smile, was a very outgoing person and her ideas were marvellous. He never told you it was you he was talking about. 

Until that day. His heart broke when you told him you didn’t feel the same way. But he tried to cover it up as it didn’t make his heart shatter to the ground, leaving traces everywhere. It was sad. Damn it, it was like going through hell. He distanced himself a lot from you. 

A whole year without talking with him went by until he finally decided to reappear again, telling you he had moved on. He had forgotten about you. Telling you that everything was like the beginning of your friendship. And you decided to give him a second chance, knowing deep down that he was lying. He was lying to maintain some kind of contact with you. But breaking all kind of relationship with him would be worse. 

“Why do you complicate things so fucking much, Xiaojun” you whispered to yourself as you were making your way to the gallery. Your legs took you to the gallery as your mind was still occupied thinking about your flatmate, and who you thought it was your best friend. 

Finally arriving, you saw a lot of people inside. Too much people for your liking. All of them would see your portrait? Suddenly your palms became sweaty. You entered the place and the anxiety in your chest grew bigger. All of their eyes would judge your painting? The painting of a stranger? 

Your brows were furrowed as you made your way between the people inside. They all were dressed in fancy suits and dresses, all of them giving off that they had money. A lot of money. What kind of gallery was this? 

The more you walked inside, the bigger the place seemed. You looked around the walls, all of them covered with paintings. You could recognize some of the paintings of your classmates, others were completely unrecognizable. But you couldn’t spot your own. Maybe they decided to not hang it at the end. Of what you could see, there wasn’t any portraits. No one had painted a portrait, it would be too strange if there was a portrait of a stranger hanging on this exposition. 

“Ah, Y/N I’ve been waiting for you to arrive!” 

Your professor’s voice made you turn around. His big smile was shining bright, as the proud look on his face made it clear he had a successful exposition. “I’m sorry I’m late” you apologized, your eyes still wandering around the walls trying to find your painting. 

“No, don’t worry! You’re just in time!” he reassured you after seeing you nervous. “What? You’re looking for the portrait?” he asked, raising a questioning eyebrow. “Yes—but I do understand if it’s not hanging, after all it’s just a stranger’s portrait and it would be weird if—“ 

“A stranger’s portrait?” he stopped you, a real confused look on his eyes. “What do you mean a stranger’s portrait? Y/N—that portrait speaks to me, his eyes… the hurt, the sentiment—honestly, I haven’t seen something like this in a long time. I’m really glad you decided to risk it with a portrait, you haven’t done anything like that before” he praised you, which only lead to your nervousness to increase. 

“Wha—“

“Come, let me show you” he said leading you to the other side of the gallery, “that portrait has taken all of the attention tonight Y/N”

“All of the attention?” you repeated his words, unable to believe what he was saying. He lead you to one of the walls were people were crowded around to look at the painting hung there. “I can’t believe someone could express so much in so little” you heard someone mutter. “The look on his face—this is real art” another voice said. 

“Isn’t that the son of the Kim’s?” someone else asked. “I think that’s him—but, why is the look on his face so tormented?” 

“The son?” you muttered, confused by that last conversation you heard between strangers. You arrived to stand in front of your own painting, but you couldn’t recognize it. Yes, you had painted it. Yes, your hands were the one holding the brushes. No, you didn’t remember him being that sad. It struck you like a lighting. 

His eyes were red, just like in the party. His hair was messy, his skin was pale. It was true, the painting was talking to you. The painting was telling you how miserable he felt inside. “A real masterpiece, Y/N” your professor’s words made you snap out back to reality. “I hate to say this but I don’t think this is—“ 

“Great painting” someone said from behind of you, his voice too close to your ear. Your heart skipped a beat, and it seemed like the place became smaller with too many people inside. It scared you to turn around. To turn around and face reality. To face the person who had praised you on your painting—no. On their own portrait. 

He stopped to stand on your side. His body stood tall next to you, his broad shoulders back and his chest out. He clearly had presence, and suddenly you felt too small to stand next to him. Too scared to even respond. “I never thought I’d see a painting of myself, that’s something my father would order—you know, just like the old times” he laughed, trying to ease up the tension. 

“I’m sorry—this wasn’t supposed to—“ 

“What are you sorry for?” he arched a brow, finally turning his body to look at you, taking away the attention from the painting. “It is nice to know I’ve struck you like this, I didn’t know I had such an influence on people” a laugh left his chest. There he was again, making you angry for no reason. 

“It may be a portrait but…” you looked at him, and then back at the painting, “clearly it’s not the same person, Doyoung”. 

His expression changed, his face turning back to look at the painting. “I see the same handsome face”. 

“No” you simply answered. It didn’t make any sense. The vulnerable, miserable, sad boy in the painting wasn’t the same egoistic, confident, rich boy that was standing on your side. “I took your face, that’s true—but, the feelings the painting is showing, I believe you’ve never felt them before Doyoung, that’s why it’s not the same person” you finished. Angry and frustrated. 

He went silent. It was hard to breathe. His presence was still strong. You looked up to him for a quick glance, just to see his eyes fixed on the portrait, his jaw clenching and his eyebrows furrowed. He looked concentrated on the painting, as he was trying to feel what the painting was feeling. But how could a rich kid, who had always had everything he wanted, ever feel sadness? That’s impossible, you thought. 

“You won’t feel what he’s feeling, even if you look at him for five hours” you spoke again, making his eyes snap back at you. He didn’t answer. You shut him up, completely. 

“Son, have you found the famous artist who drew this masterpiece” a strong voice was heard from behind Doyoung’s back. His face was still stiff, and so was his whole body. “Yes, father” he answered, his eyes still set on you. 

Your eyes widened at his words. He moved to the side, letting you see who you supposed were his parents. Doyoung was a living copy of his father. He was tall and slim, his eyes had the same almond form and the sternness of his face was also there. On his side was standing a woman with a beautiful face. They both were beautiful, indeed. No wonder Doyoung looked like that. 

“Let me introduce you to the artist of my portrait” he spoke calmly, his eyes still set on the painting. But he wasn’t looking at it, he was thinking about something else. Finally he moved his face to look back at you, “This is Y/N, the artist and—“ he took a breath before looking back at his parents. 

“—my girlfriend” 

Your eyes widened. It was like looking at a mirror, their expression shocked as yours. “What—“you tried to speak, but words were stuck in your throat. His father still had a serious expression on, but his mother smiled kindly at you. “So it was true” his father mumbled, looking down at you. 

“Why? You thought I was lying?” Doyoung answered back with confidence. It surprised you how scary that man seemed, and how brave Doyoung must be to confront him that way with his words. “So you’re an artist?” his father asked, his eyes looking directly at your soul. 

The only thing you could answer was a nod of your head. “And that’s all you do? You live off your art?” he asked again, his tone of voice was no longer friendly. It felt like he already despised you. “Well I’m still a student—“ 

“But you plan on living off of this?” that last sentence was followed by a scoff. The situation was so surprising you totally forgot where you were, or who you were. You blinked twice before looking again at Doyoung, who decided to intervene. “No one knows what life holds for us, right father?” he tried to protect you from his harsh words. 

But why was he protecting you if he has been the one to get you into this mess? His girlfriend? What the hell was wrong with him? “I believe there’s a misunderstanding—“ 

“No, Y/N” Doyoung interrupted, his hand falling on your lower back as if he was going to lead you somewhere else. “Please excuse my father, sometimes he forgets he’s not at the office” he spoke quietly, already turning you around to leave. “I’ll see you later, father” he finally said before pushing you to walk. 

His hand was burning against your clothed skin, just the pressure of having it there made your legs feel weak. As you two were finally on the other side of the gallery, you turned around to snap his hand away from your body. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you hissed under your breath, your eyes wandering around the full room. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you about the plan before executing it” he readjusted his tie, also looking around the room in case he saw his parents again. 

“Wha—the plan? Maybe you should’ve started by asking me if I was okay with following the plan—whatever that plan is!” you hissed back, your eyes so wide they were about to pop out. “Oh, don’t make a scene” he repeated his words again, and your palm really itched to slap him across the face. 

“What do you mean by that? You just introduced me to your parents as your girlfriend and we don’t even know each other!” 

“We do know each other, we’ve talked before” he said back, his eyes now as wide as yours, as if he was stating the obvious. “Are you crazy? Is that it? Doyoung, you don’t know someone because you’ve talked with them two times!” 

“Well you painted a portrait of me—I think that’s more than enough evidence that we do know each other”

“I already told you that’s not the same person I’m talking with!” 

He took a step closer, his intimidating presence making an appearance once again. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat, as you had to tilt your head up to look at him properly. “Look Y/N…” he started to speak, his voice low in order to keep the conversation as private as possible, “just roll with it for tonight—we’ll talk about it tomorrow, okay? Do me this one favour, and I’ll owe you one, that’s a real big deal” he nodded.

It really exasperated you how annoying he could be. “Why are you doing this?” you asked him, your eyes narrowed at him. “I can’t explain it right now—“ 

“Why?”

“Because you wouldn’t understand. Just like you don’t understand that your painting and the person you’re talking with are, in fact, the same person” he finally said, moving his body away from yours. 

People started to move around, leaving the room where all the paintings were hanging. “Just act like you are my girlfriend, and we’ll see about it tomorrow, can you do that for me?” he spoke again, moving around to stand back on your side, his hand sliding once again on the small place on your lower back. The tension was so big you couldn’t even respond to his question, only answering with a light nod. 

Both of you made your way another big room, where everyone was gathering around. It was time for the auction. Doyoung stood by your side in the middle of the room. “Are you going to bid up for the paintings?” you asked nervous. His straight face was impossible to be read, his eyes fixed straight ahead. 

Your eyes caught his parents, they were at the front of the room chatting with another older couple. “I’m not really into paintings but—“he spoke taking your attention away from his parents. The more you looked at his father, the more they looked alike. “—I’ll try to piss off my father” he finished. 

“Why? That sounds stupid” you quickly snapped back. That was very rude for him to say, at least that’s what you thought. You had deep respect for your parents, the one who had raised you freely, letting you experience life to the fullest. “You might understand soon” was the only thing he answered before the man standing in front, next to one of the paintings, raised his voice. 

“First of all, I want to announce how grateful we are, in the name of the whole department of art of the university” he started his speech, “of course, we wouldn’t have done this without Mr. Kim’s help and gallery, we’re also very grateful for that” he directed his words to Doyoung’s father, who just nodded at him. 

“So this gallery is--?” you tried to ask, but Doyoung answered before you could even finish the question. “Yes, my parents own this place, just like almost the rest of the university” he spoke softly, careful to not be heard. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked incredulous. 

“Oh, so now our relationship is strong enough for me to talk to you about my parents?” he grinned looking down at you, remembering the argument you both had just moments ago. Gritting your teeth you decided to not answer, he was wining this game again, and he was unconscious he was playing at it. 

“Just forget about it” you murmured, just when the auction started. The first painting was sold for five hundred dollars, something you wouldn’t have even imagined, it was a painting made by a student, right? Who were these people? Why were they here? You kept asking yourself, as all of the paintings were being sold at a fast pace for really big numbers. 

“Next painting is a portrait!” the man that was leading the auction raised his voice again, making your eyes snap ahead to look at your work. “I bet all of you recognize the young gentleman on this one” he laughed looking at the painting and then back at the crowd, earning a few comments and smiles back. “Okay, who wants to start this?” his smile grew wider when he saw hands being raised up. 

“A hundred!” someone shouted from the other end of the room. 

“Two”

“Three fifty here!” someone else attacked back. 

Everything was going too fast for you to even proceed all of the information. They were going to pay so much money for a simple portrait? 

“A thousand!” a strong voice appeared from the front of the crowd. You recognized that voice from your first encounter. The look on his face was the same animals had on when they were on a hunt. It was scary. “I double it!” Doyoung shouted from your side, making your eyes grow wide.

“What?! Two thousand for that simple portrait?! Doyoung are you crazy?!” you hissed at him, your palms sweaty. His eyes were on his father. It was obvious they were on an internal fight, and none of them wanted to lose. “Two and five hundred!” the father answered back. “Make it three thousand then!” Doyoung attacked back. 

Their faces were straight as usual, none of them showed any emotion. He had definitely learned that from his father. He must’ve been trained to do that, it was impossible for a human being to be in such a serene state of mind when he was bidding up with such amount of money. “This is a fight between father and son, ladies and gentlemen! Who will give more!?” the leader of the auction appeared again. 

“Five thousand” the older man’s voice was still going strong, only earning a smirk from Doyoung. “Ten!” he said back, raising his hand again. Your heart was beating so fast inside of your chest you felt like it was about to explode, it was about to jump out of the cage that your ribs were forming. “Oh god you really have gone mad—this… this is not okay” you kept muttering, but he wasn’t listening. His mind was somewhere else. His mind was racing against his father. 

“Woah, ten thousand for his own portrait! He must like himself too much then, right?” the leader of the auction tried to ease the tension that was building in the room. Their presence was big, bigger than anyone else is in the room. They both stood tall, their chest and head raised. None of them was backing out on this. “Fifteen!” his father said back, his eyes set on Doyoung’s. 

Fifteen thousand dollars for your mediocre portrait? You definitely had to stop this. Taking Doyoung’s hand in yours you took his attention away from the situation successfully, his surprised eyes looking down at you. 

“I don’t know what you’re trying to prove, but—this is getting out of hand” you hissed at him. His eyes were set on yours, just to travel down at where both of your hands met. “Sixteen!” he shouted back, his eyes set on you this time. “Why--?”

“Eighteen!” the older voice shouted over the crowd. 

Your hand was firm on his, grasping even more with his every movement. “You don’t have to do this Doyoung—“you tried to stop him, this was ridiculous. It just proved how much money they had to spend on stupid things like a mediocre portrait made by a simple art student. “You wouldn’t understand Y/N…” he whispered before raising his head ahead one more time. 

“Twenty—that’s my final bid!” he spoke, making the crowd around you murmur, mixing the inaudible words with gasps. His father and he exchanged hateful looks, filled with desire of fight. “If there’s no one else taking that bid up—“the man who stood at the front next to your painting took a brief moment to let people talk, but no one would rise up that bid. 

“Mr. Kim is the one taking this beautiful portrait of himself back home! Thank you!” 

“You have definitely lost your mind—“you murmured, still amazed of how much money he decided to pay for that. If you knew it before, you would’ve told him you had another one back in your room, waiting to be destroyed. Twenty thousand was a big amount of money, more than anything you could`ve imagined to ever earn out of a painting. “You should be grateful instead of whining so much, Y/N” he interrupted your train of thoughts once again. 

“Grateful?”

“I just gave you twenty thousand dollars, now you’re the one who owes me a favour”

His words were harsh. His eyes were cold. He was, indeed, heartless. “You have to be—“

“No, I’m not kidding” he stopped you once again, his eyes moving forward, at where his parents were making their way to where both of you were standing. “Tomorrow, when I get the chance to explain everything…I hope you accept the deal—think of all the money as an extra. If you don’t want to do it, it’s fine. I understand”

How could a person be so cold? He was basically paying you to be his side chick for whatever turbulent plan he had in his mind. What did he want so much? He had everything, money, a family, a bright future. Why was he so mad at the world surrounding him?

“Good job son” his parents arrived to stand in front both of you. His mother had her hand around her husband’s arm, tightly grasping at it. Her expression was calm, a sly smile appearing. “You had the courage to not back out on such a tense situation—I’m proud”

What? Proud? He was proud his son just wasted all that money on something you did in five hours? How could someone be proud of that? “You kept yourself collected all the time, you didn’t show any sign of weakness. Good job” he praised him one last time before nodding his head and making his way out of the room where the auction was still going on. 

“Proud?” you whispered as your eyes followed their figures that were already making their way out. “That’s the third time I hear those words coming out of his mouth” Doyoung said, “third time? This year?”

“Third time ever since I was born” 

You were nervous as you took another step closer to the house where you first met Doyoung. Unlike the last time, you were going there with the daylight. It was a huge house, too big. How many people lived there? You still didn’t know anything about his fraternity. Your heart was beating loud in your chest, why were you so nervous to meet with him again?

After the events of the prior night, your mind couldn’t stop racing with all kind of theories about what Doyoung wanted to achieve with this silly plan of his. You couldn’t sleep properly, and that was obvious because of the dark circles under your eyes. Even the concealer couldn’t do a good job covering them. 

Ringing the bell twice, someone finally opened the big door of the house—or mansion. You didn’t remember it that big. “Who are you?” a slim boy standing in front of you asked. His face was gorgeous and that took your breath away. “I’m—well I actually—“ 

His eyebrows rose up and a cheeky smile appeared on his face. “Don’t be nervous, who did you come to see? Jaehyun?” he asked. You narrowed your eyes at him. “I don’t who Jaehyun is”, that answer surprised him. “Oh—I’m sorry, he’s usually the one bringing girls home all the time, I just thought—“ 

“Well you thought wrong” you answered quickly, suddenly all of your nervousness leaving your body. Did he really think you came here just to fuck one of the brothers? Did you really gave off that vibe? “I’m here to see Doyoung” you said after the awkward silence that had set upon both of you. 

“Doyoung?” 

“Yeah—I’m Y/N, I don’t know if he has mentioned—“ 

“Oh my god Y/N! I totally forgot you were coming today, yes come on in! I’m sorry I mistook you as one of Jaehyun’s fuck buddies!” he quickly apologized for his prior comment, taking you by your hand and leading you inside of the house. “I’m Taeyong” he introduced himself, that cheeky smile back on his face. 

“Yeah well I came—“ 

“Yes, we all know you were coming today but I totally forgot about it, just go upstairs and the third door is his bedroom, he must be there” he pointed to the big staircase leading to the second floor. “Why did you all know that I was coming?” you asked before turning around. 

“Doyoung never invites girls home, so it would be very strange you appeared out of nowhere. He decided to warn us, in case we kicked you out, you know” he explained, his ears turning red in embarrassment. 

Without much questions, you decided to let it go. It was strange, but the situation you were currently in was stranger. Knocking twice on the third door, Doyoung appear from behind of it. “I already thought you wouldn’t come” he smiled at you, politely letting you inside. 

It wasn’t a surprise his bedroom was so clean and tidy. His walls were white, matching with the bed covers. Everything was kept minimal. Everything was placed perfectly. It had nothing to do your messy room, where the brushes and colours were sprawled all around, some of your clothes were laying down on the floor and it was way too filled with all kind of paintings you didn’t know what to do with. 

“I’m sorry I’m late” you apologized, already feeling nervous around him. It wasn’t the fact that he was drop dead gorgeous, well—maybe that could be another factor to it, but you have discovered that the one thing that made you nervous about him was his presence, it was like every time you talked with him—he tried to negotiate. He didn’t hold any small talks, he didn’t talk about the weather. He was direct, clear and organized with his words. 

“Don’t be” he smiled again, “please, take a seat” he pointed down to his bed, as he sat on the chair he had in front of his desk. “So—will you finally tell me why you threw me at the wolves like that last night?” you tried to keep yourself together, not letting him know that your hands were sweating. 

“Look, I don’t if you’ve noticed but I… well, I don’t have the best relationship with my father” he started to explain, and you decided to let him talk, it would do no good if you interrupted him with sarcastic remarks. “But lately—it has become too much for me. He’s now trying to set me up to date people who I don’t even know, you know… his associates daughters”. 

Your eyebrows were furrowed at his explanation. “That’s horrible”, you really did feel sorry for him. For the short amount of time you’ve been around his father’s presence, and for the short conversation you two had, you could already know he wasn’t someone easy to get along with. He must’ve pressured Doyoung through all of his life. 

“That’s why I need your help, Y/N” his eyes rose to look directly at you. “It may sound stupid, but confronting my father by bringing home someone I know he won’t approve, is the best way I can finally show him that I won’t keep doing as he says”

“How are you so sure he won’t like me, he doesn’t even know me” you tried to laugh out his harsh words. “Because you’re not the type of person that he likes to be associated with” his statement came out calm, as if it was something normal to say. As if it was a sin that his son would ever think about dating some who wasn’t as rich as him. Blinking twice, you couldn’t believe what you just heard. 

“I know that sounded wrong but it’s the truth—at least for my father” he tried to fix his poorly chosen words. “Doyoung I think you have to look for another—“ 

“No, it has to be you!”

“Why?”

“Because I already introduced you as my girlfriend”

“Well, if you had asked me before doing such a stupid thing we wouldn’t be into this mess!” you attacked back, deciding on not backing out on him again. “Don’t raise your voice at me, we’re having this conversation as civilized people” he kept his tone low, and it was now that you realized that your fists were clenched on your lap. 

He really did a great job making you lose control. “Look—“you stopped to take a deep breath, “I know that your situation must be difficult and—I’m sorry you have to live this way, but maybe you should just let it go and… I know he will understand that you don’t want to do whatever he says without making all this lie up”

“You don’t know him Y/N” he leaned back on his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Heck, I don’t even know him. I only know Mister Kim the business man, I don’t know him as Mister Kim the father”

It broke your heart the way he spilled all of those words filled with hate. His eyes were lost now, as if his mind was wandering back to some other time when he was a little boy. You cursed yourself for being such an empathic person, deeply feeling how hurt he must feel now. “Doyoung—“ 

“I told you last night I wouldn’t pressure you on doing something you don’t want to, I’m just asking for one chance” he tried to persuade you again. His posture changed, now his elbows were leaning on his knees. Your heart was beating fast, as fast as the thoughts racing in your mind. 

You had definitely lost you mind, Y/N, you said to yourself. 

“How much time do I have to pretend to be your girlfriend?” you asked softly, gaining back his attention, accompanied by a big smile spreading on his face. “Will you really do it?” he asked again, as if he was scared you would change your mind on the last minute. “I’m giving you one chance, I owe you one, remember?” a smirk appeared on his face after your words slipped from your mouth. 

“Great! They’re going on a little get away this weekend, they asked me to bring you with me” he was now standing up, looking for his phone. “Oh, great! Holidays!” you cheered, maybe this wasn’t that bad after all. “And where are we going?” 

“Paris” he answered back, making your eyes go wild. “A little get away is going to Paris? What kind of holidays do you have then?” your voice came out pitched, way too shocked with the situation. He finally turned his body around to look at you again, his eyebrows were furrowed in confusion. “We have a house in Paris and we sometimes go there if we feel stressed out, it’s really nice there” he explained, only making your mouth open wider. 

“Don’t tell me you haven’t been to Paris before”

“Well, of course I haven’t been to Paris before!”

“I’m sure you’ll love it, maybe you can get inspired again and paint another portrait, who knows.”

“How come you started to miss your family out of sudden?” Xiaojun asked. His body was leaning against your door as he looked at you packing your suitcase. “And why are you taking such fancy clothes if you’re just going back home?” his questions were starting to irritate you. 

“Is it a crime to miss your family? And—why can’t I dress nice for once? I don’t have to walk around oversized tees that are all stained!” 

“I’m not saying you can’t dress nice… you look good on everything” he said still following your every move with his eyes. How were you supposed to answer to that? It only reminded you of the time he sacrificed his feelings just to keep being by your side, even as friends. 

Both of you were going back home from a party. It was dark and cold outside. You tried to fight the cold by bringing your jacket closer to your body. Xiaojun’s house wasn’t far away. You were sleeping there because your parent would be too preoccupied if they knew you were going to a party even still being underage, it would do no good. “I’m so tired” you whined, dragging your feet. 

“We’re almost there” he answered suddenly placing his arm around your shoulders, trying to keep you warm. 

You two have known each other ever since you can remember. Having him by your side made you feel protected, just like an older brother. His love and support has always been there, and you took it for granted. 

“I think I feel something for you, Y/N” he had said that same night, lying down on his bed next to you. Your heart was about to explode because of the sadness it felt, knowing very well that you couldn’t say the same back to him. 

You weren’t brave enough to talk it out. You were just a coward who decided to run away from the situation, pretending to be asleep and acting as if nothing had happened, as if he didn’t place his heart in your hands for you to just crush it by ignoring him. 

Your ways separated that night. Both of you knew you weren’t asleep. Both of you knew you had heard him very clear, but you didn’t have the courage to confront the situation. 

“I’ll be away from a weekend only, please don’t destroy the house” you warned him, closing your suitcase. “Oh, you’re not really the right person to say that” he answered laughing, already leaving your room and making his way to the living room. “I have already apologized five times about that party Xiao! Will you were forget about it!” you whined following him around. 

It was one time he went back home and you decided it was a great idea to have a little gathering with friends. Which turned out to be worse than a frat party. “I forgive but I don’t forget Y/N” his laugh filled the room. 

“Anyways mister perfect, I’ll be back on Sunday night so I hope you welcome me with a nice homemade meal” 

“I’ll be waiting you like a loving husband waits for his wife to come back from a business trip”

“Don’t be so dramatic” 

As much as you wanted to play it cool, you were actually nervous about the trip. You were travelling to another country with someone you had met two weeks ago. It was good to be a free soul but wasn’t this too much? You could totally hear your mother’s words: if your heart wants to do it, go for it, it will never lie to you. 

Yes, it will never lie to you but did your heart want to go? You still didn’t know what Doyoung has done to you, ever since the first time you saw him on that party. His eyes had followed you around, his voice appearing in your mind. 

The second portrait you painted was still carefully hidden in your room behind the shadows of other bigger paintings. You tried to make it disappear by placing it somewhere you couldn’t constantly see it. It was more than enough that you couldn’t make him leave your head, you didn’t need his face around your room too. 

Maybe you should give it to him after the trip. That would be the end. 

He was waiting in his car outside your building. As usual, his outfit was clean perfect and it made you feel insecure to walk around him. It was obvious both of you were from different worlds, different social circles, different mentalities. This trip would be a difficult one. 

“Good morning” he greeted with a big smile on his face, irritating you how calm he was about the current situation. “Morning to you too” you quickly answered, trying to avoid him. 

“Are you ready?” he asked as both of you were already in his car, making your way to the airport. “I don’t know—are you?” you tried to sound confident, but your shaking voice made obvious how insecure you felt about it. “Don’t worry about anything Y/N, I’ll make sure to not put you in any kind of awkward situations. They planned this trip because they wanted to meet the person I’m dating and that’s all”

“Please don’t forget the fact that we’re not actually dating, god—I don’t even know your favourite colour” 

“But you shouldn’t be nervous about the simple things, we just have to come up with a great background story and that’s it!”

“Have you ever dated someone Doyoung? It’s not that easy to show feelings for someone when you’re not really in love! Are you aware of that?” 

“I’ve seen first-hand fake feelings Y/N, my family made sure to teach me that ever since I was little”

His words caught you off guard, making you feel terrible about snapping at him that way. You’ve never met someone with so much money. You’ve never talked with anyone who lived the life he lived. You didn’t know anything about him. 

It saddened you to know his family had neglected him all of his life, taking decisions for him and making him feel that way. But, once again, who were you to be worried about him? About his well-being? You weren’t even friends. Didn’t he have female friends who could help him out? Was he that desperate to fight his family that he had to ask a stranger for help?

The silence that fell upon both of you was awkward. You could clearly hear your heartbeat, but then again, there wasn’t a coherent answer to what he had said. The only thing you could do was to feel guilty about your words. 

“Black” he said out of sudden. You titled your head to the side to look at him. His eyes were focused on the road, his right hand on the shifting gear and his left arm relaxing on top of the steering wheel. “My favourite colour is black” he spoke again, briefly meeting your eyes before turning back to focus his attention on the road. 

“Okay, let’s just do this. What’s the plan?” you asked him, ready to leave that short argument behind. You didn’t know why, but you wanted to help him out. “Easy, we met because of a friend—let’s just say Taeyong, you met him back in the house, right?”

“Yeah”

“Well we met because of him, we both had the same interests and we just clicked, easy as that”

You couldn’t stop the laugh that left your mouth when you heard those words. “You know we don’t have the same interests, right? No one will believe us���

“Well, then we can just improvise” 

What’s the worst thing that could happen? It was a win-win situation at the end, you had the chance to travel for free to Paris and have a relaxing weekend with nothing to think about. Well, nothing besides the lies you had to come up with to make his parents believe both of you were deeply and madly in love. Feelings you were also unfamiliar with. 

When you both arrived to the airport your palms were already sweaty. To think you had to stand in front of his father again made you want to throw up. There was a tight knot in your stomach and it didn’t help the fact that you already knew how harsh his words would be. 

Doyoung helped you with your suitcase, as he only had a little bag on his back. “Why aren’t you bringing clothes?” you asked surprised. “I have a full closet there, don’t worry” he answered as if it was the most normal thing in the world. How much money did these people have? 

He walked by your side with your suitcase. Both of you spotted his parents on the entrance of the airport, his father in a suit and his mother in a beautiful summer dress with black shades on. Doyoung’s fingers laced with yours and that simple move made your heart flutter in your chest. 

“Good morning mom” he greeted her before turning to the other side, “father” he nodded his head at him. “Sweetie you have bags under your eyes, aren’t you sleeping well? Do you want me to call Dr. Jung to treat those dark circles?” his mother spoke worriedly. She preferred to treat those instead of asking him why wasn’t he been sleeping well? 

“Good morning Y/N, it’s nice seeing you again” she was now directing her attention to you, a kind smile on your face. “Good morning Ms. Kim” you greeted back, smiling after Doyoung’s hand grasped harder at yours. “Mr. Kim” you also greeted his father, who didn’t even look at you. He really knew how to make someone feel awkward. 

“Is the plane ready?” Doyoung asked. 

“Yes, they’re all waiting for us” his mother spoke again. It looked like Mr. Kim wasn’t in the mood to have a conversation that morning. “Shall we?” she asked again, turning around and making her way inside the airport, closely followed by her husband. 

“Are we late for the flight?” you asked worried. “No, the plane is waiting for us, don’t worry” he spoke with his head high. “I shouldn’t talk much with your father right? Looks like he’s not in the mood”

“He’s never in the mood” he scoffed, his hand still holding tight on yours. “So I should avoid him all weekend?” 

“No, he won’t let you” he stopped suddenly, making you stop by his side. “Just don’t let his words get to you Y/N” his eyes were now focused on you. He was talking serious, way too serious for your liking. “What do you mean?” 

“Well, you saw it back on the gallery, sometimes he can be a little—too direct with his words” 

“You mean he can be rude” you let those words escape your mouth before your mind could proceed with them. Your eyes widened and so did his. What you didn’t expect was to hear him laugh loud at your words. “You’re right, he’s rude” he nodded before turning around. It calmed you to know at least he knew the truth about his father.

When Doyoung told you that the plane was waiting for you, you didn’t exactly expect it to be really waiting for you. His family’s private plane was ready to take off as everyone was taking their seats inside. 

“Why are you so nervous Y/N? Is it your first time flying?” his mother asked you finally taking off her shades, a small smile on her face. You furrowed your eyebrows at her, did she really think that only rich people could fly around to other countries? “No—it’s not my first time, but I always get nervous” you tried convince her but she only nodded her head, the smile still on her face. It creeped you out a little that small smile? Why was she smiling?

There wasn’t much conversation to hold with them, and it really made you feel awkward to be sitting there in front of them. Doyoung was by your side, his hand still holding tight on yours as he was a reading a book. It seemed like he didn’t want to let you go, as if you would spill out the truth if he didn’t protect you in front of them. 

“If you excuse me, I’ll be in the back resting” his father was the one who broke the silence that made you feel so uncomfortable once the plane had already taken off. He hadn’t said a single word to you ever since you met that same morning. He was a cold person, and his son was the same. 

“So tell me Y/N, what do your parents do for a living?” his mother spoke calmly, her every word dragging the next one form her mouth. Doyoung’s eyes snapped up as if he knew what was coming next. “My mom is a painter and my dad’s a lawyer”. It wasn’t a lie that you felt small between both of them, their aura filling the whole place. 

“A lawyer, that’s a good profession. Why did you decide to follow your mother’s steps?” she really looked interested in the topic. “Mom I think—“, “what’s wrong Doyoung? Is there something wrong with me asking about her parents?” she was quick the shut him out of the conversation, her once warm eyes now cold as stone. “No” he muttered before looking back down at his book. 

“My parents have always taught me that I should do whatever makes my heart happy—whatever keeps me going in life, and I’ve never been interested in books, I would rather spend my free time drawing and painting instead of studying” 

“But you still managed to enter the same university as Doyoung, that’s impressive” her words made you doubt about if that was a praise or she was just being sarcastic. “That’s because of the scholarship I got, I applied and they were impressed by my paintings” you tried to hold yourself together. 

Doyoung’s hand was still tightly grasping at yours, his eyes clearly not focused on the words written in the book he was holding with his other hand. “You saw her painting of me, right mom? What do you think about it?” he intervened again, bothered to be left out of the conversation. 

“It was good” she answered, “although you could clearly see it was the first time you painted a portrait, am I right?” her eyes moved quickly between you and Doyoung. “Well yeah- I don’t believe it’s good either” 

“Why did you portray Doyoung that way though? It seemed like you didn’t know the person you were painting, it has nothing to do with our son” she remarked, making you think how you said those same things to Doyoung back at the gallery. All of her words were carefully chosen and that made you think that she was way more dangerous than his father. 

“I painted it when we met” you simply answered, “we didn’t know each other that much yet, I just tried to portray his face, the feelings on that painting are not his” 

“That’s what I thought” she finished saying, repositioning herself on the seat. Her shoulders relaxed as she moved her head to look out of the little window of the plane. “We’ve always tried our best to make Doyoung happy by giving him the best in life, it wouldn’t make sense if he was as miserable as you portrayed him in that painting”

Doyoung’s eyes were fixed on his mother, his mouth closed in a thin line. He was holding himself back to not answer something he would probably regret later on. The more time you spend around that family, the more you realized how fucked up they were. 

You placed your other hand on top of his trying to calm him down, his attention moving away from his mother to be entirely focused on where your skin touched. It must’ve been hard to grow up for him, and your heart broke every time you thought about it. 

Nothing much happened in the flight to Paris. His mother stayed in front of both of you all the time, so you couldn’t talk with Doyoung about anything either. It gave you time to think about the situation. 

His parents were convinced they had raised a young happy man, when in reality he despised them. They were convinced Doyoung has had everything in life, when he was missing on the best part. It shocked you how much you realized from a single conversation with his mother and from what you’ve talked with him. 

He had never had someone love him. He had never felt a motherly hug on a rainy day, or how it feels to have someone take care of you whenever you felt sick. He had never had that, and it saddened you to know that’s the reason why his heart was stone cold, or at least that’s what you thought. 

Another thing that occurred to you is that, even if this plan turned out fine, would he be able to live without his parents support? Would be he able to make decisions on his own? After stealing a few glances of him concentrated on the book he was reading, you realized that behind that façade of a perfect man, whose life was all under control, there was a scared boy who didn’t know how to manage any of his life problems.

He has never had the chance to confront any difficulties in life. That could be good, but not at the extreme he was raised. He doesn’t know what humility is, for him is normal for own five houses in different countries and to have a plane that can take him around whenever he wanted. He was totally disconnected from reality. 

Would he be able to confront the hard reality of what life is really like outside the perfect bubble his parents had built for him? Was this just a rebel action that he would regret the rest of his life? 

You didn’t know what to think anymore. Everything was fine before stepping on that damn party, before Doyoung spilling his drink on your clothes. Everything was perfect for you. Damn you, Doyoung, the little voice in your head curse loudly. 

“We will see you back home, honey” his mother said before entering one of the two cars that were waiting for you at the airport. “Why are they taking another car? I think there’s plenty of space for us there too—“ 

“They’re like that. They don’t like sharing a ride with strangers”

“Who’s coming then?”

“What do you mean?” 

“Well you said they didn’t like to ride with—“ 

“Oh, I was referring to you”

Your eyebrows shot up when you heard his words. “I thought—“, “they haven’t accepted you still Y/N, and that’s the plan”.

Entering the car you were still shocked because of what he had just said. “I thought you wanted to—“, “I want them to know that I will do whatever I want from now on, and that includes that I’ll date people who they don’t approve of, that’s why you’re here”

“So… my mission is to annoy your parents?”

His eyes got wider hearing those words, but he took a moment to think about it. “You could put it that way—yes” he answered titling his head to the side. “Why didn’t you say that before, I won’t hold back anymore then” 

A smirk spread on his face while he was riding back to their house. “Don’t make a scene though” he commented, bringing back the words he has said to you thousand times before. You rolled your eyes at him, placing a hand on his shoulder, “if you really want to annoy them you have to let me make a scene, it won’t work if we play this game by their rules”

“What happened to you? Just hours ago you were nervous to step on a plane with my parents and now you want to make them go crazy on you?” 

“I just don’t like when people think they’re better than everyone else just because they have money” you quickly answered, making him shut up. He knew better than anyone else that he behaved that way as well. Could he handle you, then?

The city was indeed beautiful. More than what you expected it to be. As Doyoung was driving down the road to his house, you just kept observing everything out of the window. It was a warm sunny day, the streets were filled with people and cars, every open place was a beautiful sight and so were all of the public gardens the city had. 

A smile spread on your face when you realized that what people have been saying was all true. The city was awake. The city interacted with its citizens. The atmosphere of the place was way different from everywhere else you’ve been to before. You couldn’t help but feel your heart full of joy, full of happiness and love, just because you were on that city. 

“Beautiful, right?” his voice stopped your train of thoughts, making you turn around and look at him. The sun made his dark hair shine and his skin look paler, but brighter. “I’ve never been in a city like this one before” you softly said, turning back to look out of the window. You wanted to memorize everything you could from it, just like you wanted to memorize the emotions you felt that very moment. You’ve never felt like his before. 

“The first time I came to Paris was when I was ten years old” he started to speak again, but this time you didn’t take your eyes off of the sight in front of you, letting him talk while you kept observing. “I don’t know if it was because of the streets, the people… the ambience, but I felt like—“ he stopped, his eyes were looking straight at the road but you knew his mind was travelling back in time to when he was a young ten year old boy stepping for the first time  here. 

“I really felt like the city was awake” he said. Had he read your mind? Your head titled to the side to look at him again, briefly forgiving about the beautiful buildings you were passing by. “I felt like it was the city the one that marked the pace of people’s lives, not the other way around. It was the city who chose the people who were allowed to live in it… I know it’s a weird thought but I felt like that” 

The smile that had spread on his face was a small one, but you knew it was sincere. “I know what you mean” you commented back as you turned around to keep looking at the landscape. “I don’t know what it is that this place has, but ever since we entered it I knew it was special”, it was a mere mumble coming out of your mouth but Doyoung managed to catch your every word, smiling at himself. 

When you arrived to his house you couldn’t help but gasp at the big mansion that was staring back at you. It was all white house, with big beautiful blue roof, very Parisian. His parents’ car was already parked at the entrance, where he also parked his. 

“If you want, we can get changed and go back downtown and I can show you a few places” he proposed as he was taking out your suitcase from the back of the car. “Wow—that’d be great” you couldn’t help but feel amazed by everything that was surrounding you, hoping that the way you were feeling lasted long until the weekend ended. 

Having the great luck of not crossing paths with his parents inside of the big house, he led you to his room. It was no surprise how big it was. Also with white walls and tall ceilings, it had a minimal decoration, just like his room back in his frat house. “I hope you don’t mind if we sleep together, it would be weird if my parents knew that you’re sleeping in a different room—you know, since were a couple now” he laughed, making you relax a bit. 

“No, that’s fine…” you answered walking around the big room. 

You never knew all of the great places a city could have. You two had been walking around town for three hours. Nothing could wipe the big smile on your face and the surprised expression whenever Doyoung told you something about the history of the city. 

He was also happy, or at least that’s what it looked like, you thought. He walked around with you showing you every place he could think of, talking to you about how the buildings were built, why there were so many public parks with such beautiful nature. It was the first time you felt like Doyoung was relaxed around you. 

“Have you ever thought of living here?” you asked him as both of you were walking by the seine river with an ice cream in hand. He furrowed his brows, looking at the river by his side. “I have” his answer was honest, you were waiting for the reason why he wouldn’t do it. “But my parents wouldn’t let me—they say this city is not for me” he explained. 

“That’s the reason? What does that even mean?” you asked confused and he laughed at your expression. “This city was made for dreamers, Y/N” he suddenly stopped to look at the shining river, painted in all warm colours because the sun was already setting down. “They say that I couldn’t live here because I have to focus on being successful in life and this city will make me lose my vision” 

Instead of looking at the beautiful sight of the river in front of you, you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. His tall body standing still, his head high and his eyes lost in all of the memories he had made every time he had come here. “You know” you spoke, your eyes still set on him, “my mom always says that people should do whatever makes their heart beat fast in their chest as if it’s dancing behind your ribs”, and he smiled at your words. “If the life you’re having right now doesn’t make you feel that way, Doyoung…” 

“If we follow the same metaphor your mother said, I can say my heart dances to a slow beat when we’re back home…so, it’s not as bad as it seems” he answered, smiling back down at you. but it was a forced smile, the relaxed Doyoung you had seen all evening had disappeared with simple words, replacing him with the same Doyoung you met days ago in that frat party.

“I’m sorry for asking, I should have brought that up…”

“Don’t worry about it, really” he tried to reassure you. “Want to go back home? It’s getting late and I’m sure you’re tired”. 

He told you to not worry about him, when his mood clearly changed from what you were accustomed to see all evening. It wasn’t like looking at the young free boy that led you around town to show you all of its secrets. Instead, in front of you was a young man whose face was emotionless, eyes cold and mouth closed. He didn’t show anything. 

It was like you had reminded him that this wasn’t his life. And it would never be, not because he didn’t want it, but because he couldn’t have it. And you knew that was the first time Doyoung has wanted something that his parents couldn’t give him, and they didn’t want to give him. 

They didn’t want to give him his freedom. And that’s what hurt him the most. 

“Remember to not let my father’s words get to you” he reminded you as you both made your way to the dining room. “If you let me make a scene I’ll not let his words get to me” you smiled big at him, finally earning a laugh. He had been serious and silent ever since that conversation in front of the river just an hour ago. So, hearing that laugh again made you relax. 

“I let you make a scene but if I think it’s too much I’ll stop you” he warned you at which you could only roll your eyes. “No one can stop me once I open my mouth” you said and his hand quickly caught your wrist, making you stop in front of him abruptly. 

Suddenly he was close. Too close. He was looking down at you, his eyes piercing through your soul. He was still holding your wrist but you didn’t dare to move away. Something made you stop everything, just like it stopped the world revolving around you. “Behave” he warned again and this time you could feel his breathe closer, or did you imagine that? 

Why was it that he could change personalities so fast? How did he do that? You kept asking yourself. “C’mon, they’re already waiting for us” he said passing by, letting your wrist finally free. What was that? Why did he—?

“Y/N?” He asked as he turned around to wait on you. “Yeah I’m sorry—“ 

Get yourself together Y/N! Your mission here is to annoy his parents, not to stand dumbfounded every time he does the thing!, but how did he managed to shut you up with one word only? 

“Did you like Paris, Y/N?” his mother was the first to talk after dinner was served. You were still looking down at the table, why did they need so many cutlery? Three forks? For what? “Ah—yeah, it’s really a beautiful city” you tried to talk back to her but your mind was still panicking on which fork was the right one to use. 

“We bought this house when Doyoung turned ten because we knew it would be a good place to bring him just to let him relax” she started to explain, and took the first fork on her right in order to eat her meal and you decided to copy her. Doyoung must’ve noticed your expression and how quickly you copied her movements because of the smile that slowly spread on his face as he watched you from the corner of his eye. 

“But I think we’ll be selling it soon” his father’s voice made an appearance, making all of the eyes in the room set on him. Doyoung had a shocked expression on, his eyes wider than ever. “Why would you do that?” he asked. “Because we don’t need it anymore, you’re already a grown man who has to focus on the last of your studies and also the company” he spoke without looking up at his son. As if his words weren’t bullets that were directly shot at Doyoung’s chest. 

“But—isn’t it too soon for me to enter the company?” his eyes were now between his father and his mother, who both had the same serious expression. “I was your age when your uncle and I first opened the company, so I don’t see where the problem is” the older man commented again. 

“But I haven’t finished college yet and I planned on doing a master’s degree afterwards—“ 

“That’s too much time, I prefer you make mistakes in the company now while I can mend them for you” he answered, not paying any kind of attention at Doyoung’s face. “But if you’re so sure Doyoung will make mistakes why don’t you let him learn first and then work?” you were the one to speak now, interrupting the family conversation. 

Doyoung’s hand quickly landed on top of your thigh as his eyes turned to look at you serious. He was telling you that it was not the best moment to make a scene, but your heart felt otherwise. “I mean—it’s obvious you don’t trust him enough to take the reins, why don’t you let him study hard and understand very well what he has to do” you tried to explain yourself since no one in the table seemed to understand why you spoke. 

“Y/N, have you ever had a job?” that was the first time his father directed a word towards you that day. His elbows were now on the table, as his hands were folded before his face. “No sir but I—“ 

“Then, I suppose you have no idea what it takes to build a company out of nothing… wait that’s nonsense, you’re an art student, I’m sorry this conversation will not lead to anywhere—“ he smiled down at his plate as he kept eating. 

Doyoung’s hand grasped at your thigh, signalling you that this was the time to shut up. “It’s true that I haven’t worked yet but my parents do, and they may have not have the amount of money this family has but I they made sure to teach me what hard work meant” you kept your head high as you spoke, your eyes still set on his father. 

“Hard work? From an artist like your mom?” he scoffed, but that made your blood boil. “Yes, hard work, since she managed to keep pursuing her passion while raising me, and I can assure you that’s not something easy” you answered back, Doyoung’s hand grasping tightly on your thigh, but you were not about to lose against his father. 

“She didn’t do a great job raising you, as we can see” he shot back, looking straight at you again. “Who sets the standard?” you asked back. “Well, a hopeless dreamer with no manners, what else could we expect from you? Doyoung, I really thought you had better taste in women” his father completely ignored your question, now attacking his own son. 

“I believe this is enough” his mother intervened as she set down her glass of wine. The room went silent, and no one looked up from their plate. Doyoung still had his hand on your thigh, his eyes set on the table. You could clearly see he was scared of his father. He wouldn’t ever stand up for someone else in front of his father—hell, he wouldn’t even stand up for himself. You really did feel sorry for him. 

“That was completely unappropriated” was the first thing you heard after entering Doyoung’s bedroom that night. 

“What? Your father’s way to say that my mother is a failure? I believe the same” 

“No—well yes, that wasn’t good either… but I’m talking about how you snapped back at him” he turned around to face you, his face was the same as the first time you met him. He was mad. “I thought you said—“ 

“I said I would stop you and I tried” 

“Oh, you were stopping me? I thought you were just playing kinky” you tried to ease the conversation, knowing it would only lead to an argument. You walked pass him to enter the bathroom, but he followed you quickly around. “Don’t play stupid on me Y/N” 

“Look Doyoung, maybe it was not my place to speak since it was a family matter but that matter changed once he decided to attack on my own family, which I will protect and stand up for every time someone tries to speak about them—you should take example from me instead of your parents, don’t you think?” you asked him before shutting the bathroom door.

Your hands were shaking and so were your legs. His wide eyes as you were saying that last thing was the only thing in your mind. You had shut him up. For the first time it was him, and not you, the one left speechless. Was he mad? Was he furious? You didn’t know, and you weren’t impatient to know either. 

Looking at your reflection on the mirror you were happy to see the brave girl you once were to come back to life. You didn’t regret anything you said tonight. They will see who you are truly, and maybe you could help Doyoung. One way or another, he could learn something from you, and maybe finally setting free from the chains his parents had set on him. 

Your hands itched with the need to pick up a brush and fill a blank canvas with all of the emotions you were feeling on the inside. That’s something your mother had taught you, every time you felt overwhelmed, the best you could do was to paint and leave all of your emotions there, not thinking about it anymore. 

But you didn’t have brushes nor a canvas with you, so you were left with the storm of thoughts and feelings on the inside, making your hands still shake as you finally exited the bathroom. The room was dark, the only source of light were the lights of the backyard that entered the room softly, falling upon Doyoung’s body which was already on the bed. 

His forearm was above covering his eyes and his other hand was laying on his chest. His chest rose and fell with a slow rhythm, making you believe he was asleep. His body looked relaxed, and you prayed it was that way. 

You slow let your body lay down next to him, trying to keep the distance between you two. It was uncomfortable to sleep on your back as you were used to sleep in all kind of positions, but never on your back. With a sigh you moved around and finally positioned yourself on your side looking at Doyoung. 

“What is your favourite colour?” his voice came out almost inaudible, barely above a whisper. Your eyes opened wide as you looked at his face, which was still covered by his forearm. You didn’t expect him to ask you that, but for some weird reason it made your heart beat faster than before. 

“Green” you whispered back. 

“Why”

“It relaxes me, it makes me feel safe. All of my paintings when I was little were based on the colour green. It is also the colour I imagine every time I feel anxious and it helps me calm down” 

You explained, at which he didn’t question back. “Why is your favourite colour black?” you were the one asking this time. “Because it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just the mix of everything else you have in the colour scheme—it’s turbulent and chaotic” 

The thought of him being mad at you quickly disappeared because of the tone of his voice. It was not strict, or serious. He was just talking and explaining just like he had done that evening while both of you walked around the streets of Paris. 

“I apologize for what happened before” he softly said again, finally moving his forearm away from his eyes, but he kept them closed. “I will try to stand up for you next time something like this happens” 

“Doyoung—“

“You were right Y/N, that’s something I can learn from you”

Much to your surprise hours passed by in a rush when you were with Doyoung. You both spent the whole Saturday out of the house, away from the hot tension that had built up into the house where his parents where. You didn’t know why, but after that brief conversation with Doyoung the night prior, it felt like everything that had happened before was just a bad dream. 

None of you mentioned the argument that led him to confess how he felt towards your move on his parents, and you were grateful for it. Maybe he wasn’t that bad after all, right? The one thing that you noticed is that he acted differently around his parents and away from all of the pressure they put him through. When he was only with you his mood was lighter, he laughed regularly at your remarks and sometimes at your jokes, but the best thing out of everything is that he let himself go. 

The controlling aura he thought he must have all the time because of his father, slowly but steadily fell off during that Saturday, being replaced by the image of a simple boy who was enjoying his day out. And you loved every second of it. 

“If you had a little bit of knowledge about art you would know the story behind the Giaconda!” you argued with him after you both exited The Louvre. “Then what’s the story behind it, miss i-know-it-all?” he asked making you furrow your eyebrows at the nickname he decided to use on you ever since you both entered the museum. 

“As you already know Leonardo painted it back in 1500, but he never considered it to be complete and that’s why he never gave it to his commissioner” you started to speak as you were both already walking again side by side next to the sienna river. “Why?” he asked confused. “That’s the mystery that revolves around the painting” you responded with a smirk on your face. 

“It is still not known who the person portrayed on the painting is, but there are a lot of great theories about it. Some say it corresponds to Lisa Gherardini, being her the second wife of Franceso del Giocondo, but there are far more interesting theories than this one” you spoke freely, being this topic one of the many you’ve had to write about in college. 

His eyes were truly interested in every word you said, listening closely to your explanation. “There is a theory according to which the subject is Leonardo himself, there are a lot of similarities between the painting and the his face and that would also explain why he never gave it out to the commissioner” 

“Well that’s an interesting one, I’ve never heard about it. But everything you’re saying are just theories, right?”

“Well yes, the reason why the painting is so popular is because of the mystery that holds, the smile, the eyes—everything behind it creates an aura of an enigma around it” you spoke quietly now, as your walk slowed down. “I believe with people happens the same” 

He completely stopped to look at you with narrowed eyes. “How’s that?”

“We’re often attracted to people whose aura it’s just like that because our need of knowledge about them is too powerful, what are they hiding? Why are they hiding? Who are they hiding it from?” you kept on explaining looking straight at the beautiful sight of the river in front of you. “But sometimes the disappointment behind all of that mystery is bigger than the challenge itself, that’s why people should be careful on who they choose to approach… and it’s not always easy to identify the signs”

The soft wind blowing made the landscape in front of you even more gorgeous to look at. You knew that you had to return back to Paris someday, and give this dreamer’s city a try. Doyoung stepped to stand by your side, his eyes glued to your face. 

“Were you attracted to me because of that?”

That simple question made your blood freeze in your veins. It was in that moment when you realized how close he was standing to you, and you were not brave enough to turn around and face him. “Who ever said I was attracted to you?”

There you were again. Running away from the situation, like a coward. But now it was different. It was not Xiaojun, and you were not sure if you were attracted to him or not. Maybe he was right, maybe he was not. But there was something you couldn’t deny, ever since the first day he entered your mind and decided to stay.

“Your reactions to me did” he answered quickly. 

“Doyoung I don’t know what—“ 

“That’s why you painted that portrait” he stopped you again, and you just couldn’t help but look up at him. His eyes had turned back to being cold. “Because you thought that if you painted me… you could just live by the fake image you could build up about me… you were too scared to approach the mystery so you decided to create the answer behind it yourself” he spoke quietly, as if he had thought about the topic for days. But it couldn’t be. 

“I don’t—“ 

“Just accept it” he pushed once again. His right hand fell on the lower part of your back as he made you turn around to completely face him. This wasn’t good, he was way too close. Your bodies were way too close. “Just accept it that you couldn’t stop thinking about me ever since the day we met” he repeated. 

You could just accept it and risk it. You could just be honest to him, and to yourself, for once. But was it worth it? Your mind was running wild but his hand was still holding you still in front of him. He wouldn’t back out, and you knew it. His father had shown him to stay strong and confront the situation, something you have always avoided. 

Maybe you could learn something from him too. 

“I can’t accept a lie” you lied yourself. 

His hand immediately fell from his place and you missed it before a second even had passed. You held your breath as he held your gaze. Something changed. His aura changed. Did you ruin it? Probably. Why did you do it? You had no idea. It was your first instinct, to not show him your true emotions. Why?

Because you were scared. Who has felt that way before towards a stranger who they had met in a frat party? That’s just madness. It couldn’t be true. Could it? Then why was he right? How did he know you couldn’t stop thinking about him? Why was this situations so cruel for you?

Closing his eyes for a brief moment he opened them again. “I apologize” he softly said. You had lost the young free Doyoung you had spent the day with, and now you were greeted by the narcissistic rich man Doyoung, someone you hated. “I won’t bring that up again, it was a mistake. Please just—forget about it” he finally added before stepping to the side, making his way back to the car. 

Your mouth fell open ready to call him out to stop walking, ready to let him read you like a book, just like he has been doing all this time without you even realizing it. But it was too late. You had lost him, and you didn’t know if you could bring back the real Doyoung from the shadows. 

No more words were shared between you and Doyoung after that last ones in front of the river. You felt uneasy about it, and thought deeply on how to mend your own error but nothing seemed good enough, at least not for him. It wasn’t easy to deal with Doyoung, you never knew what he was thinking or which would be his next move, it was impossible to catch him off guard. 

“I know we’ve avoided my parents today and I’m sure they’re pissed off because of that” he said just as he parked the car in front of his house. “If last night’s topic comes up again please… don’t intervene, Y/N” he asked sincerely looking at you in the eyes. It looked like he wanted to deal with this by himself, but would he be able to do so? 

What you noticed last night is that he was afraid of sharing his opinion about the important matters with his parents. That’s why they always took every possible chance to decide on his future, because he was too scared to say no. But, could you blame him? 

“If not—please…” he spoke again, just as you thought he had finished. “If you get the chance, please make a scene”. You could catch a small smile on his mouth but it didn’t reach his sad eyes. “I’ll try my best” was the only thing you could answer. 

“Aren’t you coming?” he asked as you stopped yourself from following him inside of the house. “I want to take a moment—I’ll see you in a minute” you tried to smile but all you needed was some time alone, without Doyoung’s strong presence around you that didn’t let you think properly. 

The sun was setting down and the colour scheme reflected on the house’s façade was truly beautiful. It calmed you down to look at all the warm colours, but it also reminded you on how tonight was the last night you could help Doyoung. And you couldn’t do it only “making a scene”, like he said. There was more to it. 

“I thought you were already inside with Doyoung, I understand you both had a nice day today, right?” his mother’s voice made you turn around abruptly. Where did she come from? “Yes, we’re a bit tired after all the walking around” you tried to smile politely at her, but you knew she was the worst of them all. 

She walked slowly to stand by your side and also look at the colourful view in front of you. “I don’t know where you appeared from Y/N, but I know you won’t be staying for a long time” she spoke but her mouth barely moved. “Ms. Kim I don’t think—“ 

“Please hear me out” she started again, this time turning to smile at you. It was almost a kind smile, a smile that a mother would give lovingly to her child. Doyoung was right, he was used to fake feelings because that’s everything he knew. “When we return back home, you will leave Doyoung’s side and never look out for him again”

Out of everything this was the last thing you thought you’d hear. “You are both clearly from different worlds, and we both know Doyoung can do way better than you, at least that’s what he deserves”. You never thought it would hurt that much to hear those words. 

“This is not a threat Y/N, it’s a warning. If you want to do him good, leave him alone once we return back home” she smiled one last time before taking a step forward to leave your side. “I won’t” faintly slid from your mouth, making her stop. 

“Excuse me?”

“I want to do him good that’s the reason why I won’t leave him alone” the words left your mouth so fast your mind didn’t even proceed them. “You will regret what you just said” she responded and continued to walk towards the house. The beautiful colours you were admiring moments ago were already gone, leaving everything into the dark. 

Maybe she was right. Maybe you were sacrificing too much just to help him. To help a stranger. 

The sound of the door closing behind you made Doyoung snap his eyes open. He was laying down on the bed, waiting for you. “I already thought you ran away back to the museum” he joked but you couldn’t even smile back at him. You didn’t know why his mother’s words affected you so much. “Doyoung, do you think this is the best for you?” you asked making his eyebrows shot up in surprise. 

“The best for me?”

“I mean—you’ve always had them decide for you, do you really believe you’re ready to take action on your own?” you asked him stepping to stand in front of him. He quickly sat up on the bed, his head titling up to look at you. “Where’s this coming from?” 

“I was just thinking that…maybe they do want the best for you, that’s why their making their best to teach you about the company and…setting you up with different girls” you explained, unable to even look at him in the eyes. You couldn’t believe yourself. “I thought you were against all of that? Y/N what—“ 

“Maybe you get lucky and one of those girls is actually someone good to you… someone good for you” 

“You want to stop this?”

“All I’m saying is that you should think it through… really think about it” 

He stood up to stand tall in front of you, but once again close. Your eyes were set on his neck, unable to look up at him. “I’ve made the decision Y/N, if you don’t want to help me on this one I understand, I told you from the start that I won’t push you into doing things you don’t want to. But this is something I’ve lived with all my life, and I think it’s time for a change”.

You finally looked up at him, just to see the same person you once painted. 

Doyoung sat by your side once again on the dining table. His father and mother were sitting across from you, both with stoic expressions on. No one dared to talk while waiting for the food to arrive. The look on his mother’s eyes was mortifying, and you knew it was all because of your answer back. Thinking about the positive side of the situation, you’ve already taken the first step on helping Doyoung out while talking with his mother. 

“What do you plan on doing after college, Y/N?” to your surprise it was his father the on to start the conversation this time. That question took you aback, you actually had no idea what you wanted to do after college. “I want to travel” you chose on taking the easy way tonight. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Well that’s nice, but don’t you have a plan? I mean…if you and Doyoung are still together it won’t be good if you leave to travel around the globe while he’s working and paying for all of that, right?”

“I never said Doyoung would be the one paying”

“That’s impressive then, how do you plan on doing it?” he scoffed, his hands folded in front of his face. “I plan on working while studying and save as much as I can, then leave everything and go”

“Leave everything and go? That’s risky, I believe only brave people can do that” his mother was the one to talk now. 

“I think it’s a good plan” Doyoung spoke suddenly, which you didn’t expect at all. “It’s a waste of time, you can always do that once you have your life sorted out and you have a stable economic background to do so without worries” his father answered back looking at Doyoung. 

He quickly shut up after hearing that. “Anyways, I also plan on opening my own store and with some luck, my own gallery” you tried to move on with the conversation. Doyoung had the guts to answer one time to his parents, but never twice. “Oh a gallery? That’s nice, but you need a good fund to start with” his mother smiled again, and you knew that one smile wasn’t a kind one. 

“Everything can be done if I work hard enough”, you were not letting them win this one. “It will only be successful if the paintings are good—if you plan on doing that with portraits like the one you exposed in our gallery, well…” 

His father’s eyes were determined on finishing you on this one last dinner.

“You didn’t like it? Then why did you try to buy it?” you asked with a curious look on your face. 

“Because Doyoung was impressed by it, and I thought it would be nice if I bought it for him, even if I didn’t like it” 

“I didn’t know you did things like that for your son, most times you don’t think if he would like what you have for him or not” you quickly snapped back, and Doyoung’s hand was back on your thigh trying to stop you. “We always think about his likings and well-being” his mother was the one to answer now. 

“Really? Was that your intention when you were trying to set him up with all kind of rich girls? I thought it was because you didn’t want him to be around people with less money than him, you know… from different worlds” 

The room fell silent after your last statement. “I won’t let you disrespect us like this in our own home” his father’s tone of voice changed completely. It frightened you now. Did you cross the line? “Father please—“ 

“We all have different opinions about the topic, I believe I haven’t disrespected anyone now”, you tried to keep yourself calm. “You can state your opinion as long as it’s not attacking us directly” his mother responded. 

“This only show’s how little you know your son, and it’s sad” you made them shut up, Doyoung’s hand still on your thigh, but you weren’t going to stop now. “You will never know the amazing young boy he is because you’ve forced him to grow up as a man too fast. He has never had a free childhood, he has never had the chance on making memories with his friends as a normal kid, because of you”

“Y/N—“Doyoung tried to stop you. 

“I know that maybe I’m not here for the long run, but while I’m here I will support him on doing everything he wants to do and I won’t impose him my own decisions, just like you, as his parents, have done all of his life” you finally said, standing up and stomping out of the room. Yes, maybe you did cross the line. But you couldn’t stop. 

The anger that had built inside of your chest was too much to handle anymore. You had to let it out. The room you shared with Doyoung suddenly felt small and the air in it didn’t feel enough. 

“What was that?!” he entered, harshly closing the door behind him. “What?! Me defending you in front of your parents?!” you answered back with the same tone. You were not having it anymore, you’ve let him guide this game you were both playing, but it was time to change the rhythm. 

“I tried to stop you but you kept talking shit Y/N!” 

“I kept—?! I only said what you’ve been thinking your whole life Doyoung! I had the courage to do it”

“Because you don’t know a damn thing!”

“What is wrong with you?! You asked me to do this!”

His fists were tightly clenching on his side. “Why are you so afraid of everything, Doyoung?” you asked him after getting no response. His eyes were lost again, and you moved forward to be closer to him. The scoff that he let out took you by surprise. “I believe you’re not the right one to talk about being scared of confronting the situations” 

“I confronted your parents, something you haven’t done in your whole life”

“Yes, because you haven’t lived with them Y/N!” He snapped back, his eyes getting glossy with tears. “You have had a simple and slow life Y/N, you don’t know what it feels like to be constantly thrown around to learn things you don’t need just because you could be judged by other people! You don’t know what it feels like to grow up lonely, because you had no time on making friends, or just because your friends were like every other rich old man! You don’t know what is like to grow up without being loved!”

His words were harsh on you but he didn’t plan on stopping. “I don’t know what love is Y/N, I haven’t received that from anyone in this world, not even my parents! But you know what? At the end of the day they’re everything I have, and if I push them completely away from me I would lose it all, do you comprehend the situation now Y/N?” 

He was leaving you speechless. Of course you hadn’t imagined the situation from his perspective. You were just a selfish person who thought that making a scene like that one would be something heroic. You had definitely crossed the line. 

“Doyoung I’m—“

“No, don’t tell me you’re sorry!” he stopped you, taking a seat on the bed. His head was on his hands, covering his face, but he was still holding back his tears. You didn’t know how to react, nor what to do. 

“You know what I’ve learned after all this years, Y/N?” he asked. He looked up at you, his eyes red, but no tears were seen. “That you need a lot of courage to let yourself be loved”. Those words hit you right in the chest, and you were not ready to receive the bullets. “A courage that can almost be heroic” 

You knew he was talking directly about you. He had turned the tables. He had change the game after reading your mind. He was unconsciously trying to win. “Most people can’t give nor receive love because they’re cowards, Y/N. Because they’re scared of failure. Like you.” 

Your lower lip was already quivering, but you had to stay strong. “You’re ashamed to open yourself to another person or surrender to them because you’re scared that they will discover your secret” he scoffed after that line, “the saddest secret that every human being has inside of them: that you can’t live without love. Everyone is afraid of that.” 

You took a step closer to him and stood in front of him. His head was still between his hands. 

You hated it. You hated the situation, you hated his words and you hated him. Your only argument was that he was right. He had caught you from the start, he had seen what’s behind your eyes from the very first moment, that’s why he knew how to behave around you. 

You took his chin with your finger to make him look up at you. “I accept it” was the only thing you said. His eyes trailed up your body to finally meet with your eyes. “I accept the fact that I wasn’t able to stop thinking about you ever since I met you”

His eyes were shining, but no emotions were shown. With a deep sigh you decided to risk it all. You’ve been running away for too long now, you’ve been a coward all of your life. And you wanted to prove him wrong. 

Moving forward you placed one leg on each side of his waist, sitting down on his lap. His hands fell automatically on your waist, as if they’ve been there all of his life. You were still holding his face between your hands, but he didn’t give any sign of wanting to move away. “Everything you said…you’re right” you whispered. 

Both of your faces were too close. With a simple movement you could finally kiss him. That’s when you realized for how long you’ve longed that feeling. His eyes moved from your eyes to your lips constantly, but he wouldn’t move. “You’ll stop being a coward?” he asked, directly daring you to be the one taking the first step. 

In a heartbeat you moved forward to let your lips fall on top of his. You didn’t know if it was because of all the rage you both had inside, but it wasn’t a soft nor tender kiss. It was hard, full of passion and… hurt? His hands moved quickly, making you move closer to him, totally closing the gap between you two. 

His hold was tight, as if he was afraid you’d run away now. You could barely breathe while kissing him because of the hurry he had on savouring every moment. He made sure you knew whose breath you were breathing, where you belonged. 

Your hands were tangled in the back of his head. You’ve never felt like this making out with anyone before. He made your body move on top of his while his fingers were moving up and down your back. 

His mouth moved from yours to start kissing your neck. His body was pressed even harder against yours as you were still on top of him, making you feel his chest against yours and his back muscles with your own hands. 

You could feel his dick grow hard through his pants. Not wanting to waste any more time he turned you around to let you fall on the bed, him positioning himself on top of you. You were already feeling too aroused just by making out with him. His eyes were closed as he slowly made his way down your neck, making you stand up to take off your shirt, quickly followed by your pants.

His hands were running up and down your legs, but his eyes still closed. As he took off your panties you knew you were already soaked, and with a simple peck on your pussy your legs trembled. It would be too much to handle if you let him indulge there. 

Taking his head with your hands you made him finally look up to you, crashing your lips again against one another. His clothes were quick to follow behind yours, as both of you laid down naked, both of your bodies completely glued to one another.

Without a word being said you both only maintained the eye contact, and that was more than enough for you. He slowly slip into you, but steadily found the rhythm. Every powerful thrust inside of you pushed the headboard of the bed hard against the wall. The pain at the beginning was undeniable, but the pleasure of him being inside of you felt too good. 

The sound of the wetness of your centre and the heavy grunts and breaths were the only thing that filled the room, his eyes never leaving yours. You didn’t know what he did to you, but you had never felt like this before. 

One of his hands moved to rise more one of your legs, getting a better angle, and as much as you hated it you knew it wouldn’t be long before he threw you over the edge. “Doyoung—“ 

But he shut you up by crashing his lips once again against yours, also muffling your cry out after reaching your climax. 

Both of your chests were rising and falling with deep breaths. He was still on top of you, and your hands were caressing the back of his neck. A thin layer of sweat was covering both of your bodies but you didn’t want him to move away, ever. 

Suddenly, the heavy breathing turned into a soft sob. He didn’t dare to look up, but you could feel the wetness of his tears on your neck. All of his muscles were tense, and you could feel that he couldn’t hold back anymore. 

Hugging him even tightly you kissed the top of his head as you let him rest there on top of you, letting all of his emotions pour out of his eyes in form of tears. “I’m here Doyoung” you whispered to calm him down, but you also knew he needed to let everything out. 

“I’m here for you”

With your every word his tears fell down harder, his hands holding you tightly. He was scared. He also took the risk by opening up to you, and now he was scared you’d be the one to leave. 

None of you talked about what had happened the night prior when you both woke up the next day, naked and tangled in each other’s arms and legs. He wasn’t distant, but you knew his mind was somewhere else, concentrated on something else. 

“We’re going back home today” he announced still in bed, his forearm covering his eyes, at which you could only nod with your head still resting on top of his chest. “What will you do when you go back?” he asked, but nothing was clear now. You didn’t expect this to happen. “I don’ know”, he smiled at your words but didn’t respond. 

It would be a lie if you said your head wasn’t a mess. The flight back home was filled with silence. Doyoung was once again reading one of his books, with his right hand tightly grasping at yours. You didn’t know what would happen from now on, but you also didn’t want to overthink it. You both had finally found someone who you could open up to, but was it that easy?

He didn’t mention anything about it either, making you feel uneasy inside, but you also didn’t want to pressure him. The frustration inside was growing fast but you couldn’t let it win, not now that you’d found him. 

But just when you thought you’ve found him. He was gone. 

I still don’t know how to react to everything that happened this weekend, I can only say I’m sorry. I’ve felt neglected my whole life and you were the one that opened my eyes completely, Y/N. You don’t even know how grateful I am for you. 

After I left you in your house on Sunday I couldn’t sleep that night. Everything felt different for me, as if you had changed my point of view. There were a million thoughts racing in my mind, and they all had one thing in common: you. 

But I know I cannot be the man that you need by your side right now, in this moment. That’s why I’m sorry. I still have a long way to run before I reach you. You’ve managed to show me, in such a short amount of time, that I should do whatever makes my heart dance inside of my chest. And we both know that my life was miserable here. But I’m trying to change. 

That’s why I’m turning back to Paris. My parents weren’t happy about it, of course. But I promised them I would work for the company from there, and at the same time I’ll focus on finding my own true passions. My own path in life. 

I know this sounds selfish. And it is. And I’m sorry about it. But I also feel like this is my only way to grow up as a person, and as the man you deserve to have by your side. 

I’ve never told you this but…you’re the first girl that makes me cry. I’ll never forget that, hope you don’t either. 

I can’t ask you to wait for me, and I won’t. That’d be crossing the line and making you suffer even more (this is not easy for me either), but I hope you forever remember me and that night we shared. I hope you forever remember that I gave you my heart there. And I don’t plan on getting it back. 

I also returned you the portrait. I hope the day we meet again I don’t look like it anymore. I hope you can portray me again, but this time as my true self. As someone happy and confident, someone who has succeeded in life on his own way. I hope you feel proud the day you do it. I really do. 

You are a brilliant person Y/N. I have never met anyone like you. And I know you will go far in life. Please, don’t forget about me. Please, think about me. Please, don’t let me die in your memory. 

I’ll be waiting for you, forever, in the dreamer’s city. 

You both lived in different worlds. You both had different views of life. But sometimes those things are the ones that bring people together. Doyoung reaching out for you to help him will completely change your life—something you didn’t expect to happen. And you helping him out will completely open his eyes to what the real world looked like, what the world outside of all the money and luxury he was accustomed to was. Maybe you both could learn something from one another in this journey to the dreamer’s city. 

#doyoung x reader #doyoung fic #doyoung fanfic #nct x reader #nct fanfic #nct imagine #nct angst #nct scenario #nct!frathouse #doyoung!frat #doyoung the trust fund baby

[showtoonzfan]

I don't know if this is a hot take, but I feel like Viv only likes her characters on a surface level. Like every time she talks about how she loves her characters and their backstories I'm just like "Do you really though?" because every time Helluva has massive plot contradictions and character retcons, it gets harder and harder to really define what these characters' goals and storylines really are(ironic since that seems to be the same critique Viv got when ZP was running). It makes it seems like characters and stories happen because it needs to happen because without it there isn't an actual story.

Rereading through the Millie thread, you can feel her struggle to list any interesting traits that aren't just surface-level things we already know. The fact she kinda went all "you guys just want to give her a sad and tragic backstory" makes me feel like she admitted that the only way she can make characters more interesting is to give them a sad backstory about how they were mistreated when they were a kid because that's exactly what she did for Blitzo, Moxxie, and Stolas. It's that kind of thing that makes me groan about Hazbin's whole "redemption" plot because it's just going to reveal more of her personal character bias and poor character writing.

I can feel your pain, I remember when Viv said Octavia and Millie were personal favorites of her and I laughed aloud. However, at the end of the day, it’s not that I don’t believe Viv doesn’t care about these characters. She clearly does, it’s just that she favors more than others. You can watch helluva and the Hazbin pilot and it’s obvious who her favorites are, she just puts more effort into writing some than others, but yeah, whenever she opens her mouth on twitter or mainly livestreams regarding this stuff, it is ironic and hilarious. She talks as if the show or her work is so deep and compelling and that she knows what she’s doing when….yeah she makes it VERY clear she doesn’t and is pulling stuff out of her ass, then takes to twitter and gets mad when people accuse her of not knowing anything despite her accidentally proving it constantly, having admitted TWICE now that the majority of what we’re seeing in Helluva wasn’t planned.

The Millie thread was a laughable desperate attempt to show people Millie has a personality and character traits, expect she constantly contradicts herself by saying things like how it’s difficult to write a newlywed couple since their attached to each other, and then literally admit that Moxxie still was able to have more to him outside of their relationship, then act like everything she said didn’t matter by pulling a “er…well it’s a male driven show so…”- like be for real girl LMAO. There’s a reason why the majority of her beloved male characters all have the same tragic daddy issue backstories but are painted to be good deep down and praise for it, while her female characters are either bitches or fan service with flat one note personalities, if you can even call them that lol. Hazbin is definitely fucked, I mean….if Viv can’t even call Hellborn characters out on their bullshit without excusing them constantly, what makes us think she’ll call out the characters that actually went to Hell for a reason? She’s just ganna excuse them all and baby them lol.

#vivziepop critical #spindlehorse critical #helluva boss critical #hazbin hotel critical #helluva boss critique #helluva boss criticism #helluva critical #anti vivziepop #reply #ask

[luna-writes-stuff]

Day 2: Love Story, Kaz Brekker

Song link

Fanfic, gn!reader

CBJXJS SO MUCH FLUFF OMG

Word count: 3275

Tw: No beta we die like men, maybe a tiny ooc!kaz oopsie. I tried. One drop of Y/N. Sorry gold girlies. Slight description of anxiety. Piece about heists and injuries, but nothing too graphic.

Summary: Kaz hasn’t known life without you at his side. He doesn’t see reason for you to abandon him any time soon. And he isn’t planning on letting you go either.

"We were both young when I first saw you I close my eyes and the flashback starts I'm standin' there On a balcony in summer air."

Kaz Brekker was never the legend people would now call Dirtyhands. He was not always as undaunted or ‘soulless’- if you will - as people knew. You had met him when he was a normal boy. You had known him running through the weeds after you, tossing mud and apples in your direction.

The two of you frolicking and tumbling down the hills, jumping in creeks, and chasing butterflies. Nobody would believe you that that was your childhood if you told them now. But you knew. And you knew Kaz did as well.

Somewhere.

Deep down.

"See the lights, see the party, the ball gowns See you make your way through the crowd And say, "Hello" Little did I know."

But something as fragile as innocence and youth is easily corrupted. For not even ten years later, the two of you found yourselves completely and utterly alone. In the centre of a town many knew to avoid.

And though Kaz changed for the worse, and grew cold and distant, he never let you out of his sight. Not after that fateful day. He would no longer offer you comforting embraces, or heartfelt touches, but he had his way of letting you know he cared.

He’d hand you your coat, save you a seat at the table, have a cup of coffee warm for you in the morning, a hand ghosting behind your back when you passed a certain group of men, offer you a goodnight before you left for bed, and a whole bunch of other things you did not seem to notice that often. But he took special care in these things.

"That you were Romeo, you were throwin' pebbles And my daddy said, "Stay away from Juliet" And I was cryin' on the staircase Beggin' you, "Please don't go, "."

A moment as this one was one you would not recognize until you were asked later. You were sitting on the edge of the fountain. On top of Kaz’ coat. One he had taken off so you could sit down. And it had become normal for you. Hell, even Jesper had gotten used to it. But Kaz would take good care in remembering to do these things; for even if you did not point them out, he knew you would notice it when he stopped doing it.

So now, the three of you were waiting in the garden on the other half of your group. Nina, Matthias, Wylan, and Inej were given the simple task of invading the gallery. A painting high on Pekka’s list has passed through Kaz’ ears, and he was keen on having it. If only to bother Rollins.

But Jesper had been handsome decoy - his specialty - as you and Kaz tried to keep out of sight. If anything would tick the guards off, it would’ve been the mere sight of your faces. So the garden had to do for the time being.

"And I said Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run."

“They should have been back by now,” Kaz mumbled under his breath, leaning on his cane as he inspected his watch.

“Well,” Jesper smirked, taking a seat beside you. “You know how Nina likes to be fashionably late.” “That is a Jesper trait,” You interrupted. “Nina knows better.”

The sharpshooter shot you an accusing look. One that, ironically, Nina would often shoot you when warning you about thin ice. The boy copied the expression almost flawlessly, but you simply shrugged.

“I could sneak in and look for them.” You tried to offer in reconciliation, but you were shot down by Kaz.

“Not you,” He responded almost immediately. “They will recognize you the second you set foot in that building.” As he spoke, his eyes trailed to Jesper, who exhaled deeply at the hint.

“Do you want me to check?” He groaned almost unwillingly, standing up from the seat he had just taken.

“Please, do be a Saint and run in.” You batted your eyelashes sarcastically, holding your hands together in dramatic affection. “Thank you.”

The grumbled something under his breath,halting his steps momentarily to turn back to you. “So you two can have some alone time.”

“Go.” You dismissed, shooing him away with your hands. A joking “going” was heard from him, before he stalked through the window, leaving you alone with the Bastard of the Barrel. A surprisingly comfortable idea.

"You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"."

Patting the empty space beside you, you urged Kaz to sit down. His leg had seemed to bother him after all the walking, but you knew him longer than today. You knew he would not tell anyone it bothers him, much less admit it as an answer. But he silently accepted your offer.

“They will be fine,” You tried to reassure, to which the boy nodded, his eyes set on the building in the distance.

“Of course they will.”

“Then why do you appear anxious?”

His posture appeared rigged, his jaws set tightly together as his eyes had yet to wander the surroundings of his place. Though his cane stood on the floor steady, his hand was clutching it as if it was the only thing keeping him standing - or sitting, in this case.

Not yet.

“I don’t get anxious.”

Looking at him sharply, you opted to remain silent, not clouding his thoughts. Instead, you chose to sit there in silent peace. A moment so calm - ironic, considering you were in the midst of a heist - that you knew it would take days for something like this to appear again.

"So I sneak out to the garden to see you We keep quiet, 'cause we're dead if they knew So close your eyes Escape this town for a little while, oh oh."

But the silence was quickly overtook by a gunshot coming from the structure you and Kaz had kept such a keen eye on. Simultaneously, the two of you shot up, both reaching for the weapons hid within your pockets. But before either of you could draw them, your five friends came running out, the tallest one of them carrying a smaller painting.

“Run!” Was all Nina managed to shout, nearing the two of you rather quickly, before grabbing your arm and tugging you with her, leaving Kaz to take off on his own.

You did not dare question them. Not when you heard a group of loud footsteps thundering from the gates you had escaped through just seconds prior.

“I thought this was supposed to be a swift and stealthy mission!” You panted out over your shoulder, following Nina’s every step.

“It was!” Inej countered, her voice sounding behind your back, her breaths also heavy. “Until Jesper decided to pop in!”

“This was not my fault!”

“Not the time!” Kaz hissed, grabbing one of the bombs Wylan had secured on his back. As you kept running, he detached the clip, throwing it a couple feet back, his pace not once fading.

A loud boom echoed through the streets, but none of you dared to stop to see if the chasing had stopped.

“Of course, because storming into the main hall with a gun in your hand would not raise any questions!” Nina protested, her hand tightly clutching yours.

“I had it under control!”

“They were shooting at you!”

“Not the time!” Kaz repeated in irritation, making way to that all too familiar alley. Just a couple more steps, and you would be between the safe walls of the Slat.

"'Cause you were Romeo, I was a scarlet letter And my daddy said, "Stay away from Juliet" But you were everything to me I was beggin' you, "Please don't go, "."

After you and Inej had fixed Wylan up from his unfortunate encounter with a long flight of stairs, you made your way to your room. Throwing your full weight onto your bed, you sighed in relief

You made it.

The planning for heists was fun. Hell, sometimes the execution of it even was. The running was something you could never get used to, though. And it did not help your brain told you to check on Kaz every five seconds, making it quite difficult to maintain your balance. But you were here. Back in your room. The comforting smell of fresh sheets brushed through your system.

You’d have to thank Kaz for that later.

For now, all you truly wanted to do was close your eyes and relax. You did not even want to fall asleep. Resting your eyes had been a term for a reason.

Yet you could not help but notice a small piece of paper resting on your windowsill. What piqued your interest, was the fact that you had not written - nor left - anything there. And even from this distance, you could tell it wasn’t the paper you would usually use.

Groaning at the sudden thoughts, you got back up, wandering towards the piece. Your eyes scanned the first few words, noticing a bunch of crossed out sentences at the bottom, which were nigh unreadable.

This was Kaz’ handwriting.

Folding the paper, you placed it on top of your nightstand, urging your curious mind to simply shut up for once, and just close your eyes.

"And I said Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run."

He had found you like that an hour later. Still sprawled out over the blanket, almost in starfish position. Soft snores escaped your mouth, as your feet dangled from the bed.

He knew better than to disturb you.

He hung his coat over one of the chairs in the room, resting his cane against the seat. As he walked towards you, he halted suddenly, as if forgetting something. Staring at you for a couple of seconds, he decided to turn around, grabbing something from his coat, which he placed within the pockets of his trousers.

Sitting down beside you, he simply watched you, discarding his gloves on the nightstand. His eyes caught a folded up piece of paper, tucked neatly under the seat of the lantern decorating the table, making sure it wouldn’t fly off.

His head ran through a million different scenarios; had you read it? Did you leave it there for him, or had he left it there? Should he tuck it away just to be safe?

"You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"."

Kaz Brekked never felt anxious. He was not anxious now. This unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach was merely….lack of hydration.

Yes, he needed to drink. He hadn’t drank anything since you left for the heist. That was all.

Yet he could not help but grab the paper, tugging it into his pocket as well. He stood up again, tucking a blanket over you briefly, before walking up to the door.

He halted momentarily. Again.

This was no anxiety.

His head turned back to your sleeping form, his hand subconsciously reaching for the paper.

No. Not yet.

"Romeo, save me, they're tryna tell me how to feel This love is difficult, but it's real."

“Hey, Kazzle,” Jesper grinned as he slid into the booth, next to his boss, who inaudibly groaned at his cheerful friend.

“You know I love our little talks, but today, you simply seem to be radiating-“ he tried to sugarcoat, but Kaz was quick to interrupt him.

“What do you need, Jesper? And why?”

The said sharpshooter halted, gaping quietly, a mocking, dramatic sigh escaping his mouth. He was not on time to defend his case, though, for Kaz already shot him an annoyed glance.

“Nina has this bet,” Jesper started meekly.

“No.”

“You don’t even know what it is about.”

“This is your mess, Jesper.”

“No, but see, that’s the great part.” He pointed out, laying his hands on the table to put emphasis on his words. “I haven’t partaken yet.”

The boy shot him an urging glance, forcing him to continue speaking. Jesper glanced around briefly, afraid his other friends might be listening to him. But when he spotted none within hearing distance, he continued.

“I could really use a win now, and Nina seems big on her case, and you know how she gets-“

“You’re rambling,”

“Right.” Swallowing thickly, the Zemeni boy looked at his hands, twirling with his rings subconsciously. “You see, Nina seems fairly convinced you are planning a certain thing.”

Raising his eyebrows, Kaz looked at his glass. “A thing?”

“Yes, well, you won’t believe this,” he chuckled nervously, his leg now stuttering under the table. Suddenly his voice became hushed. “She thinks you are going to, you know…” he trailed off, opening his hands vertically, a hint Kaz did not seem to get.

Or did not want to get.

"Don't be afraid, we'll make it out of this mess It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"."

His eyes glanced up at his friend again, furrowing his eyebrows together.

“She thinks,” Jesper now whispered, his voice barely audible for Kaz. “That you are going to pop the question.”

Anxiety and dread settled into Kaz’ system once more.

No, not anxiety. Dehydration, he told himself.

“I am going to propose to Y/N?” He asked in confirmation, to which Jesper nodded wildly.

“Usually, I would take the counter bet, but Nina seemed so keen on her words, I had to check first.”

“That is considered cheating.”

“Can you not grant me this one thing?”

“No,” Kaz answered curtly. His friend sat there in silence, unsure of how to continue. Thankfully, Kaz spoke first. “No, I do not plan on proposing.”

A sigh of relief swept through the room, originating from Jesper, who laid his head on the table.

“Thank you, Kazzle. You’re a Saint.”

And with these words, he disappeared into the back room, surely making a deal with Nina.

"I got tired of waiting Wonderin' if you were ever comin' around."

These were the words that would haunt him for the rest of the night. As he wandered the halls later that night, his hands kept fiddling with the paper in his pocket. Inej had noticed. She had not told him.

She was the one who had found the note in the first place. She was the one who had placed it in your windowsill. Of course, without the knowledge of you or Kaz.

She was the one who slipped one thing or the other to Nina. She did not mean to, she simply lost control of her excitement. And now Nina had been beaming for days.

Surprisingly, no one would notice. Not until Jesper mentioned that bet to Kaz.

"My faith in you was fading When I met you on the outskirts of town, And I said."

He entered your room for the second time that night, now finding you in a fresh set of clothes, neatly tucked under the blankets, leaving space on the bed in case Kaz were to join her again. And the invite seemed to good to ignore now.

Throwing his shoes off, and changing his clothes, he walked towards the bed. You had looked so peaceful there; more at rest than you had appeared earlier. Your chest was rising and falling slowly, breath fanning past your lips with every exhale.

He knew staring was probably one of the last things he should do in such a scenario, yet he could not help it. Nothing brought him more peace nor comfort than to see you at peace. It was something silly, he considered, but he found himself truly at rest when you were.

And in that exact moment, with the soft pattering of rain against the window, he had felt more relaxed than he had in the last days. Nay - weeks. Perhaps even months.

He was not anxious.

"Romeo, save me, I've been feeling so alone I keep waiting for you, but you never come Is this in my head? I don't know what to think."

Shaking the sudden intrusive thoughts from his mind, he opted to lie on his back, his eyes trained on the ceiling. You had been right earlier; his leg had been bothering him. He had been too vain to admit it. Laying down now was not only peaceful to him, it was soothing altogether. Mentally and physically.

Hissing momentarily as he adjusted his leg, he felt you stir beside him. Freezing upon the motion, he nearly stopped breathing.

“Staying here tonight?” You mumbled, your voice laced with sleep, your head moving to bury itself in your pillow.

Kaz only hummed, resuming his shifting. He felt you rolling around, turning towards the edge of the bed as you gave him more room.

“No,” he objected through a whisper. “It’s okay.”

As if he flipped a switch, you turned back into your earlier position, your leg briefly brushing his. But he did not groan upon the impact, as you had expected. Instead, he kept his leg there; against yours, almost a comforting touch.

"He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring And said, "Marry me, Juliet You'll never have to be alone."

Silence now filled the air, the twisting and turning finally stopping. Though there had been a reasonable distance between the two of you, the feeling of his leg against yours was a reminder that he was still there.

Moments passed, yet you could not bring yourself to fall asleep. Something was bothering Kaz and you knew it. You did not even need to look at him in order to know that.

“Penny for your thoughts?” You mumbled, your eyes still shut, but interested in his words.

He remained quiet for a second, before sighing shortly. “Jesper placing bets again.”

You hummed in humor and understanding, now turning around to face him.

“Is he losing?”

He stared into your eyes for a moment, his usually stern gaze filled with something only you got to see from time to time; weakness and - ironically enough - love. It was hesitant now, but still obvious.

“Always.”

"“I love you and that's all I really know I talked to your dad, go pick out a white dress" It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"."

You chuckled lowly, shaking your head against the pillow. Kaz simply continued to look at you, the ghost of a smile on his face.

Closing your eyes again, you muttered him a good night, knowing he’d keep talking if something were to bother him.

Instead, he grabbed your hand; his slender fingers brushing with yours, before grasping them clearly, squeezing them lightly as he moved them. His lips met the surface of your hand for a short second, the notion sending butterflies through your stomach. He had picked up this habit weeks earlier, and you would be lying if you said you did not enjoy it.

“‘Night,” he uttered back, before letting go of your hand.

It hadn’t even been a minute before his voice cut through the silent air again.

“Silver or gold?”

You were quiet for a while, pondering his question, even though you already knew the answer.

“Silver.”

Kaz chuckled, turning around to face the nightstand, glancing at something on top of it that you could not see over his back.

“Yes,” he mused. “Jesper is going to lose.”

"'Cause we were both young when I first saw you."

—

Tag list: @brekkers-desigirl @ell0ra-br3kk3r @4-ravener-7

#november writings 2022 #Kaz brekker #six #six of crows #shadow and bone #freddy carter #shadow and bone netflix #grishaverse #leigh bargudo #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine

[switchbladedreamz]

Sharing is Caring, Harrington

Pairing: Steddie x reader smut

Summary: Steve is jealous you're tutoring Eddie for summer college courses, deep down does he feel more for the metalhead?

Requested? Nah I'm on a writing high from TTP

Warnings: 🔞light smut, established relationship with Steve and Reader, college au, slapping (once), mommy and daddy kink, blowjob, gay, straight, use of pet names and dom/sub themes.

I don't remember when I started this but heyy I just finished finals so I'll have some time to crank out some fic this summer🥳

Minors dni

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I just don't get why you have to tutor him is all I'm sayin, babe" "and I don't get why you have a problem with it, didn't you save his life last summer or something? Look it's the summer before his freshman year of college and he needs help what's the big deal?" I had signed on to be a tutor at the local community college's summer classes. Lo and behold Eddie Munson. Munson was among a crowd of mixed in students from other towns and sometimes a state over, taking summer classes Hawkins Community College; go Tigers!

"Babe if you're afraid of the sexual tension between Eddie and I and us being the only hot goth and only hot metalhead in a 50 mile radius then I guess you better come with and make sure we don't fuck on a pile of Iron Maiden cassettes." I bite back, the snark leaving my voice when Steve's pupils went black. I smirked. "You little horndog! You're just upset because you want to watch us fuck, don't you!?" I accuse. The silence pregnant with tension between us. "Get in the fucking car, Harrington". I sigh exasperated, if only he came to me with this instead of bitching about it for a week then finally letting the truth out. "are you mad at me?" Steve asked, his lanky posture suddenly small in the passenger seat. Taken aback by Steve's more submissive side showing, I'm sure to be extra soft. "No baby, not at all. Look at me." I smile as his eyes reach mine. "I just wish that you would've come to me with your thoughts in lieu of complaining for a week straight. But no need to dwell on it now, it's fixed and over with and we're headed to the Munson's". A goofy smile overtook the sad smile that was on his face.

Tears for Fears played softly as we pulled into the gravel driveway connected to all the other driveways. I parked my hearse next to Munson's van, the neighbors that were outside on the nice sunny day were glaring daggers. Conformists, what're you gonna do. Walking up the steps, Metallica could be heard and it was drownibg out the knocks. Or so I thought, a minute later and smoke is spilling through the door as it's ripped open. A shirtless, dripping Eddie ushers us inside. It's then we see only a towel is around his waist "Welcome, kind of caught me at an awkeard moment here. I don't usually let people see me without my hair done" he jokes. He clears his throat as i alone laugh. Eddie turns to leave- "wait!" Steve interrupts. His face is beet red, he's been thinking about it. "We-uhm. Well. Oh. Huh. We, (Y/n/n) and I, we were. We- ya see we had-" "Good God spit it out Harrington it's freezing in here" Eddie complains, his nipples hard. I lick my lips. His eyes flit between us, wordlessly he spins around and motions with two fingers in a "come hither" fashion to beckon us after him. Steve gulps then looks to me for permission, poor thing is nervous. I lace our fingers together and take the lead as usual.

"sit at the top of the bed Harrington." Eddie offers to him, gesturing. Resecuring his towel, his leans over his music collection and picks an album. Then his rolling tray, his grinder, lunchbox he keeps his weed in, and finally his papers. Sitting on his bed, Steve watched his skilled fingers as he rolls two joints. "How'd you learn to do that anyway?" Steve asked. "My friend Rick, Refer Rick. Taught me everything I know, of course I have picked stuff up from JV before too." "Junior Varsity?" Steve asks, eyebrows knotted in confusion. "juvie" I whisper to him. Eddie just chuckles, "damn all the blood rush from your head to your dick Harrington? I didn't take you for an airhead" the metalhead teases. "Edds play nice or we'll leave." I warn, no serious inflection in my tone. The boys know by now when to listen.

"lick it for me" Eddie's outstretched arm in front of me, offering the soon-to-be joint to Steve's lips sideways. "w-what? Yeah sure". Unsure of his actions, he grabs the two ends, pink tongue coming between his soft lips to activate the glue. "Good boy" Eddie whispers.

Steve watched intently when Eddie smokes. You'd think he'd never been high before. But I know. He's watching his lips, his fingers, when his tongue comes to lick his lips before taking a hit. Steve's watching Eddie's hand on my thigh too. Halfway through the joint, "so like...can I ask?" Eddie speaks, intentionally vague. "Hehehe ask what?" Steve giggles. "What's the deal between you two?". Shock settled over Steve's features, as if he never expected the question to be asked. "Well she's my girlfriend, I love her". "okay, hey that's great. No offense meant, really. I'm just...confused".

"Well what Steve and I have is special, what we do somehow brings us closer together. We don't have an open relationship, we just sleep with mutually agreed upon people.".

Eddie takes in the information, let's it swirl ariund then settle. "Can I ask who else you've slept with together?" He voice strained as he holds smoke in, passing the joint to me. "Billy Hargrove, Chief Hopper, Robyn, well that was just me but Steve watched, you last summer at camp Steve watched from the treeline.". Steve shifts on the bed at the mention of past lovers, he's been oddly silent. "I knew I heard something. Why me again?" "Truth be told, I think Steve might have a crush on you Edds" I giggle like a school girl. "all week he's been complaining about me tutoring you for the summer but the truth is he wanted to have some fun.". Silence still from the third party, he's clutching to one of Eddie's pillows for dear life.

"Steve?" My hand rubs his arm, he lurches forward and I couldn't have been paid a million dollars to try to predict what happens next.

Steve kisses Eddie. I sit still. Shock, weed, and adrenaline running through me. The kiss is erotic in a way. Eddie pulls away, the pair panting for breath, "wow. okay..that just happened.". "I'm sorry" Steve rushes out to apologize. Before more anxiety can spill from him Eddie kisses him again, softer and less rushed this time. "What's your mommy dom think about all this?" Eddie whispers in Steve's ear. The latter whimpers and looks to me. I nod, giving him my permission. Eddie's hand on my thigh moves up and past the hem of my shorts, directly toward the button and zipper he undoes hastily. I get off the bed and strip completely, the pair of men following suite.

Eddie and Steve are inseparable, tongue and teeth clashing, hands a flying mess to grab onto the other. As if they're the only ones left on this planet and if they don't hold on they'll never find each other again. "Ed's please" Steve whimpers quietly as the boy's tongue is licking up his neck. Biting. Sucking. A sharp slap sounds through the small room and Eddie's head falls back, his bottom lip caught between his pearly whites. "You are so gonna pay for that Harrington. Get on your knees". Steve's eyes are wide, excitement and a tinge of fear for the unknown outcome. Steve slides off the bed, I throw a pillow to him for his knees.

Eddie pushes his hands through Steve's hair and guides him down. "You ever sucked cock before baby boy?" Ed chides condescendingly. I smirk, knowing. It's almost as if all the color drains from Eddie's face as Steve takes him all the way down his throat, nostrils being tickled by short brown curls. "Fuuuuuck". Steve swirls his tongue around Eddie's head, sucking as he pulls off with a pop and goes back down. "Oooh, oh fuck! Yes, baby" Eddie encourages Steve as one of his hands starts to massage Eddie's sack. Eddie pulls Steve's head off, panting. "Don't-" a strangled sigh leaves him "I don't want to finish just yet" Steve smiles proudly.

I lay at the head of the bed on my side, a watching position. Steve now lays beside me, an everbright wet smile gleaming on his wet face. The smile gets impossibly brighter and wider as Eddie straddles Steve's thighs. Eddie wraps his fingers around the other boy's wrists and pins them beside his head, his face mere inches from the other's. "You're going to listen to what mommy and daddy tell you to do aren't you baby boy?" Steve nods. "Good. You're given permission to speak freely. Now be a good boy and ask mommy to sit on your face." Steve's head lolls to the side, our eyes locking. "Actually, for right now I want to watch the two of you".

Eddie shrugs and rolls with it. I watch as their lips meet again. I trail my fingertips over my submissive's thigh lightly, the tickling sensation causing goosebumps to rise on the hairy flesh. Up, up, up, they wander. A small shudder escapes Stevie's lips as my fingertips graze along the biggest vein on his cock.

A devilish grin on Eddie's face as he walks to me on his knees. A choked moan comes from Steve as my hand gently strokes him. Within the moment Eddie's tongue is inside my throat with his left hand on the outside of my throat, applying small pressure. "Where's that naughty little bitch I remember?" Eddie's tone is full of arrogance and challenge. I smirk and slap him. His hand at my throat pushes my head down to the pillows while the other smooths the burning red handprint. Pulling me up halfway by my throat he kisses. "There she is.."

#steddie #steddie x reader