#it also took quite a while to write all this down haha...

[sophie-looks-at-things]

The Dragon and the Dragon-less

Pairing: Aemond x Strong niece reader

Summary: The night Aemond had lost his eye, his sweet niece was the only one to provide him any sense of comfort. Many years later, when she returns to Kings Landing with her family, what should become of the two? ;)

Warnings: bad ship terminology (idk boats y'all sorry), Rhaenyra being kind of a bad mom (love her tho), Targcest/incest, softer Aemond, smut in the dragon pits, this one is kind of long haha

AN: Hey y'all! Since my first fic seemed to be received so well (thanks so much to everyone for that:) I decided to write another one! I'm staying on the Aemond train since I've never left it since day one haha. Let me know tho if there are any requests!

PS: I haven't gone through and totally edited this so don't mind the spelling or grammar issues if there are any!!

It had been awful, you remembered hearing the screaming and shouting from your chambers. The screeching having woken you up from a rather pleasant dream about eating cake–

In nothing but your night clothes, and a quilt draped around your shoulders, you padded down the chilly hallways of Dragonstone. 

“ – it was my sons who were attacked!” You hear your mother yell. Concerned you took a few more steps forward, finally able to make out the scene before you. Your mother and your brothers to one side, while Alicent and her boys on the other, the fire raging in the hearth between them. 

Your wide lilac eyes meet those of your stepfather, Prince Daemon, he reaches a hand out towards you as if to say “Come here”. Your feet did not move, rooted to the spot, eyes glancing around the room once more. You see something you hadn’t noticed before, Aemond, in the corner of the room, surrounded by maesters. A hand over his eye, thick, sticky fluid oozing from between his small fingers. Gasping, your own hands fly to cover your lips, perhaps to muffle the noise, or maybe to tame the scream building in your throat. Aemond’s healthy eye meets yours, pain, sadness but most of all fury over taking his features. 

Just then your mother turns to meet you, her gaze worried and frantic, “My sweet girl! You should return to your chambers this is no sight for you dearest,” her hand, also bloody you notice, rests above her heart.

“Mother, w-what has happened? Aemond, h-he, is he alright–” You begin to question, Daemon takes a step towards you and you take one forward into the room. Your concerned gaze flits over to Aemond once more. Despite the fire in the hearth, the chill of the room has set into your bones, causing you to pull the quilt tighter around your shoulders. 

“Come now byka zaldrīzes (little dragon) let us return you to your quarters. Aemond will be fine,” Your father attempts to comfort you. Maybe you are too tired to argue, or too shocked, your mind still attempting to comprehend what has happened. But you let your father guide you back to your chambers, the quilt trailing behind you like a cloak. 

With a lullaby and a pat on the head, Daemon bids you good night once more. Closing the door softly behind him, his heavy footsteps receding off into the distance, presumably back to your mother and brothers. It feels like hours as you stare at the ceiling, listening, straining your ears for even just a morsel of information. But the halls beyond your door remain as silent as the grave. The chill in your bones is stubborn, making you shiver. Sitting up and swinging your feet over the side of the bed, you wrap the quilt around your shoulders once again. As silently as possible, you open the door, the hall is empty save for the torches lining the walls. You’re bathed in the fiery orange glow as you step fully into the hall. 

You’re not quite sure where your feet carry you until you turn the corner and are met with Ser Criston Cole. His tall stature taking up the door frame of the young prince's room, his gold cloak behind him like an inverse shadow. It’s not until you come to stand in front of him that he addresses you. 

“Princess, you should not be here. You should return to your chambers,” He looks down his nose at you. Your knuckles turn white from the tight grip you have on the quilt.

“Please, Ser, I must see the Prince. What has happened to him? I must know if he is alright–” 

“Your brothers have maimed him. Who’s to say you aren’t here to do the same? Perhaps your whore of a –” The door behind him creaks a bit, one of the maesters appears in its place. Bloodied rags and a needle are held in his hands. He sighs “The prince says she may pass Ser Cole,”

With one last look of annoyance and a warning mumbled under his breath, the knight lets you pass. The room is dark, lit only by a few candles on the bedside table. Aemond’s hunched form lays on the bed, the blankets up to his chin. As you make your way closer you can see the true horror of what has happened this evening. Where his eye once was, now lays only marred flesh, red and angry, the stitches pull at the swollen skin. You gasp, shocked, a sick feeling settling into the pit of your stomach.

“Ugly isn’t it?” Aemond asks you, bitterness lacing his voice. As he speaks you make your way to his side, sitting lightly on the bed, next to his hip. Your small hand searching for his under the covers, to comfort him, or maybe to warm your own. 

“H-how did this happen? Who could possibly have–”

“Your brothers. Lucerys stole my eye. But an eye for a dragon is a fair price to pay is it not niece?” A proud, sad smile graces his features. While your brothers had dragons since they were but babes, you were not as lucky. Syrax had not laid a full nest, and your mother had decided it was best to give your brothers the two eggs. All the while you have remained dragonless. 

“Vhagar is now mine, and on the morrow, we shall leave this wretched place. And I will fly on dragon back to the Red Keep.” His singular lilac eye meets yours. “I promise you, sweet niece, one day I shall take you for a ride on dragon back. Show you the freedom that comes with it,” His previously bloodied fingers intertwined with yours. 

“I would like that very much uncle,” Looking down at your joined hands, a small smile of your own matching his. 

— — — — — — —

The waters of the sea lap against the side of the ship, the slap against the wood echoing around you. Overpowered only by the screeching of your family's dragons above you. Alone, you ride on this ship, well alone save for the ship hands and captain assigned by your father. Still, at the age of nine and ten, you remain dragonless, made to travel to the Red Keep by boat.

Your brothers claim to Driftmark had come into question, prompting the visit back to your old home. You hadn’t been back here since–

Your mother and father had determined it best to keep the family at Dragonstone after Aemond lost his eye. Although you had always suspected part of the reasoning for that was your mothers fear of retribution from Alicent for what your brother had done. Perhaps it was a long time coming though, your brothers as well as Aegon had picked on Aemond ruthlessly for years prior to that night. You had been spared only by the simple facts that you were a little girl, and just weren’t in there presence as much. Despite your pleas to join in the yard for training you had been denied, and turned towards the library instead to study “things more befit for your station” as your mother had put it.

“We shall dock shortly Princess,” the ship captain’s voice drifted to you from behind the wheel. You stood on the platform with him, looking beyond the masthead, you see Syrax and Caraxes land in the dragon pits. You sigh, it looks like you’ll arrive alone at the Red Keep, not expecting your mother to wait for you. Her and Daemon needed to prepare for the events of tomorrow. 

Arriving at the Keep felt haunting, the lack of a welcome only contributing to that fact. Once docked, you were met by a singular carriage and it’s driver. The captain had assured you that your belongings were to be delivered to your chambers shortly. For all your fathers faults he did have good trust and faith in those he employed. The ship’s captain had been with your families since you were a girl. He and yourself not unfamiliar with these lonesome journeys. 

The gates of the Red Keep came into view as you rolled over the bumpy roads of Kings Landing. Gold Cloaks lined the gate’s walls, closing the massive gate doors behind you, shutting you in, locking you within the castle grounds. The carriage comes to a jumpy halt, the driver offering you his hand as you disembark your ride. Your fingers slip into his as your boots squelch in the mud below you, the clanging of swords and metal meet your ears. 

“Nephews, have you come to train?” A voice says, one you could not recognize. From across the yard you see your brothers, you wave to them, hoping to catch their eye. Luke turns his head towards you, a small smile playing at his lips. Noticing this, the source of the voice follows his gaze, a singular lilac eye meeting yours.

“Niece, how you have grown–” Aemond’s lone eye takes in your figure. My how you’ve grown indeed. Last time he had seen you you barely came up to his chin, your silver locks a messs contained in small braids. The flush that never seemed to leave your cheeks remained however. You had grown taller, still standing shorter than himself, which he finds excites him a bit. More than it should perhaps. You had grown into yourself in a way that was very pleasing to his eye, your face fuller and lovely. Your curves soft and plush, inviting him to touch and caress them. 

“Uncle,” you offer him a small curtsey. You can hear Jace scoff, as if annoyed by the action. Wanting yo say more, but not knowing what, you continue to look at one another. Your own eyes take in your uncle, he had grown taller, much taller. His muscles lean and corded beneath his tunic. His silver hair almost as long as yours, is pulled back slightly in a braid. Some hanging free, escaping their confines during his sparring. His eye was now covered in an eyepatch, made of black leather, the tops and bottoms of the scar still visible even with it on. 

The arrival of another carriage turns your gaze to the left, where you yourself had arrived only moments ago. Vaemond Valaryon steps out of the carriage and into the yard, sparing a glance at the Prince and your brothers. A look of disgust crosses his face as he lays his eyes on Luke. 

— — — — — — —

The meeting to question Lucerys’ claim to Driftmark is long and dull, at least in the beginning. Mustering his limited remaining strength your grandsire had sat the thrown. Disputing Otto and Alicent in their claims. He looks horrible you think. His skin looks to be gray and sloughing off of his bones. The Stranger would be coming for him soon. It is not until Vaemond brings into question your brother’s parentage once again, that the apprehensive peace shatters. 

“And she is a–”

“Say it,” your father’s hand that rests on the hilt of Dark Sister tightens, knuckles whitening. 

“ – a WHORE!” In one swift blow, Daemon sends Vaemond’s head rolling across the floor of the throne room. Blood trailed behind the appendage like a snail’s trail. The room is filled with gasps and short screams. Your own eyes widened looking at the head on the stone floor before you. By no means are you unfamiliar with your father's violent nature, and nor should the rest of the court. 

“Let him keep his tongue,” Daemon wipes the blood off of his blade, stepping back, sheathing the sword once more. 

As if some kind of magic pulls you, you lift your eyes from Vaemonds severed head and meet those of your uncle. A smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, he looks to be well entertained by the violent display. Caught in your staring, Aemond’s gaze rises to meet your own, his smirk widening into a more sadistic smile. 

“Now, for the final order of business. A more pleasant way to end this affair,” the king says, his mellow voice carrying across the stone-lined room. “I am blessed by the Gods to have such a large family, but it appears that the Gods hope to bless us some more,” It was becoming increasingly more clear that Alicent’s love for The Seven has bled not just into the castle but its people as well.  You think maybe it gives the king something comforting in his final days. 

“My son, Aemond, a fine warrior and scholar,” Aemond stands rigid and straight, uncomfortable with the new attention from his father. “And my granddaughter, if your mother had not already claimed the title of Realms Delight then it would be most certainly passed to you.” Your cheeks flush a bright pink, warmth rising to the tips of your ears. 

“This family has been divided for quite some time, I tend to rectify that. Aemond, my son, and my granddaughter the princess, shall be married,” The reactions around the room are mixed, some people applaud, some cover their shock with their hands. Wide, prying eyes jump between you and Aemond. You dare a look in his direction, he is still staring, the smile gone from his face now. Confusion, shock, anger? You cannot tell but it is not sweet, and it is not kind.

A wave of confidence washes over you as you step forward, “What is the meaning of this? Why have I not had any indication of this until now?!” You feel your mother’s hand grasp your elbow, urging you to stand beside her, silently. “It is the wish of your grandsire, byka zaldrīzes (little dragon). He is dying, do not fight him,” Your head whips aside, meeting her eyes, eyes filled with sadness. Did she know of this? Did she approve of this? Your father would not meet your eyes, nor your brothers, Jace toeing at an invisible stone on the floor. Did they all know, except for you? 

You tear your elbow from your mother’s grasp, she opens her mouth to speak once more, but your back is already turned. Your feet lead you towards the grand door. You had to leave, you needed to be anywhere else but here. Your chest tightens, your breathing ragged. Not with sadness or grief, no, but with anger and fury. You feel as though you could breathe fire as the dragons do. An angered scream tears past your lips, reverberating off of the stone walls of the Red Keep. 

— — — — — — —

You had decided it best to skip the family feast. And a good thing too, unbeknownst to you it had gone horribly. Lucerys mocking Aemond over the roasted pig, Aemond's “final tribute” to his Strong nephews. No, instead you had taken your dinner in the library, back amongst your beloved books. The sun had set an hour or two ago now, the torches along the halls lit. You didn’t know how late it was, you had been much too absorbed in your novel Lady Coryanne Wylde, A Cautionary Tale for Young Girls. 

The wax on the candles had burned low, and your wine had turned cold. It was time to retire. Taking the book with you, you began to make your way toward your chambers, your old chambers. The last time you had slept there you had been but a girl. As you turn the corner you are met with a hard wall of warm, corded muscle. Your book tumbling to the ground. A pair of strong hands plant themselves on your shoulders, to steady you. 

“Careful niece, someone might think you are up to no good, wandering the corridors, at night–alone” The smile from earlier returns to his lips, and just then, he notices the book on the floor. His smile becoming impossibly wider, you don’t think you’ve ever really seen Aemond smile, not like this anyway. It’s nice, you think to yourself.

“What’s this dear niece,” he bends down to pick up the novel, his slim fingers sifting through the pages, his eyebrows lifting. “Well, well, who would have thought–”

“Give that back!” You reach to snatch it from him, like a child, but he just holds it higher over his head. “Tell you what, I made a promise to you. Do you remember?” Of course, you remembered, you still thought about it sometimes, but all hope of fulfilling it had left you.

“Yes–” it came out more hoarse than you had intended. Your hand frozen, outstretched, Aemond still held the book over his head. 

“Come with me to meet Vhagar, for a ride,” he leaned closer to you, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. “Come taste the freedom of the skies with me niece.” He had tucked the book behind his back. Aemond wasn’t a man who typically waited for an answer, nor was he one who liked when people disagreed with him. He’d throw you over his shoulder if he must. Even though his hatred for your family ran deep, he could never seem to hate you. You had endeared yourself to him time and time again as children, but the night he lost his eye. The night you visited him, the only one not angry, the only one not repulsed by his face. He knew then that he could never hate you, no matter how hard he’d tried. 

Words had suddenly failed you, your tongue dry. You simply nodded instead. In response, Aemond straightened to his full, imposing height, and turning without a word, he began his stride down the hall, towards the dragon pits. You followed him, but neither of you spoke, the halls of the Red Keep filled with an odd sort of comfortable silence. His hair had grown longer, much longer, and he walked with a sense of confidence that hadn’t been there before. 

The night air was chill, a slight breeze blew through your hair, tousling the strands. You were glad you had worn a gown with longer sleeves, it must be chilly up in the clouds. Aemond was sporting his riding clothes, the leather over his tunic reaching his wrists. He looked good, really good, you thought to yourself. The flush from earlier returning to your cheeks, as well as the warmth in the tips of your ears. 

Aemond comes to a stop before the pits, waiting for you, the book still behind his back, taunting you. You suppose that was his insurance policy in case you had said no to joining him. You can only imagine your father's reaction to seeing you read such debauchery. You were his sweet little girl after all…

“Come now niece, no harm shall come to you while I am near,” He held his hand out to you, and you slipped your fingers between his. His hands are much smoother than the ship captains from earlier, you thought. His hand was warm, the blood of the dragon coursing through his veins. The sound of beating wings from up above drew you out of your daze. A dark shadow crossed over the pair of you, coming to land only several passes in front of you. Vhagar stood proud and strong, if not slightly tired. Her form was weathered by time and battle. It’s a blessing from the Gods that she can still take to the skies as she does. 

Aemond drew you nearer to her, your hand still held tightly in his, like all those years ago. “Give her a pat, she won’t bite, not unless I tell her to,” He chuckled a bit at his own joke, your eyes widening slightly, making him laugh all the more. “No need to be frightened, she’s quite gentle actually,” He guided your hand up to the beast's snout, his fingers had moved to circle your wrists, making the action easier. Your hand lay splayed out before you against Vhagar’s scales, her skin impossibly hot. The hand on your wrists moves to cover your own on the dragon. From behind you, Aemonds other hand rests on your waist lightly, like a whisper on the wind. Mayhaps this marriage won’t be too bad after all? Your anger from earlier was not directed at him you realize, but rather at the other members of your family. You were never pleased when things were kept from you when you were lied to. You like his hand there, you like it a lot, it provides you a sense of comfort and security as you stand before this large beast. You wonder how his calloused hands would feel elsewhere…

Aemond retracts his hand, yours following closely behind, you can still feel the heat of Vhagar’s scales on the skin of your palms. You begin to be tugged backward in the direction of Vhagar’s saddle. Aemond motions for you to begin climbing the ropes that lead to the mount, he follows behind you; prepared to catch you should the need arise. The saddle is less like a saddle and more like a small chariot on top of the dragon. It comfortably seats the two of you, and could even squeeze in a third. 

Aemond positions you in front of him, his legs caging yours, his arms reaching around the front of you to grasp onto the reigns. “Are you ready?” The question is whispered to you, his lips brushing your ear once more as he speaks. You rather like this position, the warmth radiating off of his body will surely keep you warm above the clouds. 

“Yes, yes I think I am,” Your own hands come up to rest atop his, surely just to steady yourself, and not at all because you were becoming increasingly more desperate to touch or be touched by the man behind you. 

“Sōvēs Vhagar!” Aemond pulls back and yells into the night air, sparring your delicate eardrums. The beast below you growls and jolts into action. She takes a few long strides before beginning to beat her wings, as she takes off into the crisp night air. 

Eyes glued shut you think you yell out a little yelp of initial fear and surprise. Aemond’s legs press tighter down on your own as if to reassure you that you are safe with him and his dragon. As Vhagar evens out her flying, coasting just above the clouds, you dare to open your eyes. Behind you, Aemond cannot stop the smile from spreading across his lips, he cannot see your face but he hopes it is a happy one. He’ll take you out flying every day that you are married if it will make you happy. He would burn the world down if it meant he could keep you safe and happy. To make you his. 

Truthfully he wasn’t all that surprised by his father’s announcement of your betrothal. As a boy, even before the incident, he had asked his mother and grandsire, Otto, what lords would court you, and if any would be good enough for a princess. It wasn’t until after he lost his eye that he first breached the subject of marriage to his mother. He’d told her he deserved it, that after all the pain he had gone through, it was only fair for him to spend his life beside someone whom he cared so deeply for. At the time his mother had just given him a kiss on the forehead saying “Perhaps one day, we shall see,” A sad smile had crossed her face then.

He’d given up on the hope of marrying for love after that. The ladies of court found him elusive and repulsive, opting to flirt with his brother, despite his marriage to Helaena. A few moons ago, Aegon had made a jest at Aemond’s expense, something about being tied to a Strong for all eternity. He had ignored it, deeming it nothing more than one of his brother's drunken comments. However, after the events of today, it seems he was not jesting after all.

Aemond is broken out of his thoughts by a lovely, bubbly sound. You’re laughing, your arms spread wide, fingers splayed out letting the wind rush through them. He immediately goes to grasp your waist, his legs still caged around yours, steading you, anchoring you to him and the saddle. 

“What the sweet Hells are you doing?! Put your hands back on the reigns!” He exclaims. You giggle some more, the wind drying your teeth as you smile. 

“I cannot uncle! You were right, this is marvelous! I feel as though I could rule the world from up here!” He had never seen anyone as dazzling as you were in this moment. Vhagar gave a slight jolt as she began to descend back downwards, causing you to jump forward a bit, hands grasping the reigns once more.

“I told you – “ He murmurs against your hair, placing a small kiss on your head. After another moment Aemond begins to guide Vhagar back towards the dragon pits. There’s a strain in his trousers he can ignore no longer. Years of pent-up desire and want boiling over. Ever the gentleman, he assists you in descending the beast. This time he goes first, his hand in yours as he helps you with the final jump down. 

“That was incredible, uncle that was truly –” Aemond uses his grip on your hand to tug you forward, clutching you to his chest, his lips meeting yours. You gasp into his mouth, surprised by the boldness of his actions. Before you are given the opportunity to reciprocate, he pulls away, a slight frown on his face.

“My apologies, I should not have–” 

“Yes, you should have actually. Why did you stop, I was quite enjoying myself,” You pull on the collar of his tunic, tugging his chapped lips back down to yours. Aemond uses his taller stature to guide you back up against a pillar within the pits. The two of you made only out of sight by half of a pillar, and Vhagar’s sleeping form. 

“And what if I were to take you, right here? Right now? Like a scene from your debaucherous novel,” He exclaims, his lips moving, forming a trail from your jaw down to your collarbone. Surely leaving marks, and love bites as he goes. Oh if only his brother could see him now, he thinks that perhaps Aegon would congratulate him on finally “getting it wet”. 

His grip on your waist tightens as he pulls you impossibly closer to him. He was everywhere, all of your senses were overwhelmed by him. The smell of the oils used to wash his hair filled your nostrils, the smokiness from Vhagar had made a home in the threads of his clothes. You’re nearly positive that you must smell similar, you’ll need to get your gown cleaned certainly. 

Your hands began to fumble with the belt of his trousers, your fingers making clumsy work of the buckle. Aemond pulls away only for a moment to assist you, then he begins to work on the strings of your corset. His movements were desperate and quick, neither of you having the patience to wait much longer. All the while his lips never left your skin. You feel him smile against your skin as Vhagar makes a slight noise of annoyance at your escapades. Somehow between your messy kisses, your skirts had been rucked up to your hips, Aemond’s deft fingers making contact with your small clothes. 

“You’re rather wet dear niece. Do I rile you up so huh? I wonder how wet you’ll be with my cock inside your sweet cunt,” He says that last bit almost more so to himself rather than you. In response, a small whimper escapes your lips. Aemond looks up to meet your eyes. A certain twinkle reflects at you from his. 

“Another night I shall spend hours ravishing you, but I need to be inside you, now.” He gives his cock a few strokes, preparing himself. Your eyes widen at the sight, his shaft long and thick, his head red and leaking arousal. It was, invigorating, knowing that you could illicit such a response from him. With a delicate kiss to your lips and one final look of permission, Aemond sheathes himself inside you. Your warm walls squeeze him perfectly, welcoming him in. Gods he could stay right here like this forever. 

“ – move. Aemond Gods move please,” You begged him, your walls had adjusted to him. Feeling wonderful and full. He began slow, his thrusts taking on a rhythmic flow. Aemond tucks his face into the crook of your neck, smelling your hair, his grunts and groans in your ear. You drag your nails down his clothed back, perhaps next time you’ll be able to fully leave your marks on his skin. Thank the Gods Vhagar had decided to remain put, it would ruin your honor should anyone find you like this; even though your virtue was promised to him already.

“Fuck– I don’t know if I’ll be able to last much longer ñuha jorrāeliarzy (my beloved). You are just too perfect–” He cuts himself off with a grunt.

“Finish then, let go Aemond, let got for me please, I–” You beg him, you need it just as much as he does.

“Not before you ñuha jorrāeliarzy (my beloved).” Aemond moves down to circle your clit, sending a shockwave of pleasure up your spine. The pace of his thrusts picked up, your hands remained looped around his neck, anchoring yourself to him.

“Aemond, oh Aemond, Gods I’m gonna–” The words that left your mouth made hardly any sense. The words and phrases twist and turn into a bizarre hymn to your betrothed. 

“Cum, cum for me Jorrāelagon (love), give yourself over to me–” Aemond begged you. His lips biting and nipping at the flesh of your neck. On his command, a wave of pleasure washes over you, like the seas crashing into the shores of Driftmark. You remember drifting off to sleep as a girl to the lullaby of the sea. Aemond’s own release follows closely after your own. Still nestled inside of you, he rests his forehead against yours, sighing contentedly. 

“You know, when I was a boy, I had asked my mother to ask Rhaenyra for your hand. I had begged her actually,” He chuckles a bit at his anecdote.

“Did you?” You laugh along with him, less at the story and more so at the ridiculousness of your current situation. You feel him nod, his forehead brushing against yours as he does so. 

“Well,” you say in response, “ I had always wanted a dragon of my own. I had begged my mother actually”, you imitate Aemond’s words, giggling a bit as you do, “but now I need not ask any longer. For I have my very own dragon right here.” You place a kiss on his nose as you say this.

“Well my love, no longer shall you be dragonless, not as long as I am around anyways,” Aemond reassures you. He supposed he had two dragons now as well, with Vhagar he would burn the world down, but you gave him a reason to do so. With fire and blood he would protect you, love you, for that is the way of the dragon, that is the way of Prince Aemond Targaryen, your beloved betrothed. 

Tag List:

@ helaenaluvr  @ anukulee

[velvetydream]

꒰ :🥀 [ Hells greatest Demon ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : You've had quite a rough day, so Alastor tries his best to cheer you up with some food and a broadcast.

Pairing : Alastor x Reader

Word count : 1305

Genre : Sweet Fluff

Warnings ➵ Hinting of cannibalism (Alastor)

a/n : Very self-indulged bcs Alastor is my comfort chara rn and I'm currently having a rather hard time.. Also I'm very very new to Hazbin Hotel, so I'm so sorry if smth doesn't match up or seems out of character! Decided to write this simply for comfort!♡

┌───────────────────────── ·  ·  ·  · ♡

It was another hellish day, like always work was keeping you on your toes, Charlie had yet another plan and of course activity everyone at the hotel had to join in. Niffty was keeping you busy more than any other day, it was slowly getting to you. On top of that, your ex had to show up at your workplace today.

So with all this happening, you decided to get a bit of peace with a tea in the kitchen, but your mind was running a race, ending in simply resting your head on the kitchen table and closing your eyes for a second, trying to tune out Angels and Husks banter at the bar.

"Greetings my dear!" A cheerful, yet accompanied by a radio static sound, voice sounded behind you, you wanted to groan but swallowed it down again. It's not like you despised Alastor, quite the opposite, he was rather lovely and nice to you, shocking. But he sometimes loves to play into someone's despair and you're no exception. "Oh darling, you look rather doomed, haha, why don't you smile, you know you're never fully dressed without one!" Alastor walked past you, shrugging off his coat and laying it onto the back of one of the chairs, his sleeves being pushed up by his hands now. "I'm not really in the mood for smiling right now.." He took a quick glance at you, which you didn't notice of course, before he turned around again to the stove. His staff was now leaning against the kitchen cupboard, soft jazz music was now playing, which was calming you down a bit more.

"Mind sharing your thoughts darling? You look rather lost in them." It was weird for Alastor to care for others problems, yet he asked you, still his back turned to you, your eyes open yet again, following his movements. Getting ready to cook, probably his favorite, Jambalaya. "It's just been a really hard day, Niffty almost got me killed, my boss just dumped a week's extra load onto me which I shall finish in three days, and then on top of this all my stupid fucker of an ex decided to show up at my work." At the last words, just slightly, barely noticeable, the red-haired demon tensed up a bit. "That does seem like a rough day my dear, how about I make you some nice new tea and when I finish cooking you'll get the first plate." Turning to you now, his signature smile was planted on his face, you doubt you ever saw him without one, it can be unsettling at times, but mostly it was fine. Alastor grabbed your teacup, and set up a cattle with fresh water, as he scooped some tea into your cup, all the while starting to prepare to cook. It was calming, he was calming. Despite hearing the others all around the hotel, the jazz music, and the soft sounds of Alastor cooking, you could swear you also heard him hum softly to the music but you didn't dare mention it to him, were drowning everything out.

A hot steaming cup was swiftly set in front of you, the tea a different one now than you had before, but it still gave of a soothing and calming smell. With a thank you, you took a sip of the porcelain cup.

It was quiet in the kitchen for the time being, only the soft music and Alastors cooking, you two were merely enjoying the presence of the other, it was calming your mind and you finally felt your shoulders relaxing. Soon a plate was placed in front of you, it was Jambalaya, which you already ate countless times since staying at the hotel, Alastor loved to make it often. He himself now sitting down beside you at the table with a plate of his own, coat still on the chair, sleeves still pushed to his elbows.

"Thanks!" Thanking him for the plate, you immediately dig in, the taste was amazing like always, Alastor truly is a master at cooking. Soon the others joined in the kitchen, the kitchen was now booming with voices and laughter, but this time it didn't bother you, it was nice to eat all together. Laughing at some joke Angel just made, before talking with Charlie about some idea how to get new guests for the hotel. All the while the eyes of a certain demon were on you.

After the good meal, everyone together started cleaning their dishes, Nifty almost threw her fork at an insect on the floor, but Husker took the fork away before she could accidentally harm someone. In the end, it was just you and Alastor left, as you put away all the clean plates now, Alastor putting his coat back on, as he took his microphone staff.

"So how are you feeling dear? Better now?" Jumping a little bit at how close his voice suddenly was, turning your head just slightly, noticing how Alastor was now standing behind you and leaning over your shoulder. "Y-Yes! Thanks a lot again!" Stepping away from him, he simply watched you with his usual smile. "Splendid! How about you join me for my broadcast?" Eyes going wide now at his offer, he never allowed anyone to join him when he goes on air, hell, if someone were to disturb him they shall never be seen again. So to say you were stunned was an understatement.

"I would love to but.. are you sure?" You often listened to his broadcast when you had time, or sometimes put it on when you go to sleep, but to listen to him live? That would be amazing. "Well of course my dear, if I wasn't sure I wouldn't have offered! Well then! Let's get going!" A big smile was now stretched on his face, as he was leaving the kitchen in tow with you.

Arriving at his radio tower, which you never saw from the inside before, so you're actually a bit hyped to join him. Holding the door open for you like the gentleman he is, you enter and immediately start looking around. Walking over to the big windows, you could see the city below, from up here it looked so small, it was amazing. "Well my dear, do take a seat wherever you like, we're soon going on air." Looking back at Alastor with a smile now as you nod, taking a seat on the couch on the wall. Overall the room wasn't that big, his room, which you saw before a few times, was definitely bigger than this. Leaning against the wall a bit, you wait for Alastor to start his broadcast.

"Salutation hell, good to be back on the air today..." You were listening closely, he was playing some soft music in the background while talking. Slowly the exhaustion from today was creeping on you more with every minute that passed. And before you knew it, your consciousness slipped away intdreamlandnd.

Alastor kept the broadcast going, ending it after a good one or two hours, looking over at you, his dear darling. A smile wide on his face, as he puts everything he used away to his original place. Slow steps were made over to you, as he was shrugging his coat off and laying it over your body carefully. "Sleep well darling, hope you liked my broadcast." A strand was pushed behind your ear, that fell in front of your face.

Turning to the door now, the soft smile he wore for you, slowly turned into a sinister smile. "Now to that ex of yours.." Leaving the room, he closes the door behind him, and let's just say, he had a nice midnight snack this time and your ex to your surprise never showed up at your workplace again.

[joelsprettyprincess]

Deja Vu

Summary: Joel is so, so lonely after his divorce. Luckily (or not), you look just like his ex-wife. Pairing: dark!Joel Miller x f!reader Wordcount: 7.3k Tags: Dubcon, stalking, drugging, somnophilia, age gap (mid 50s/early 20s), no outbreak, misogyny, delusions, obsessive behavior, Joel has an unnamed daughter (NOT SARAH), smut-adjacent (imagined and real-ish), non-consensual touching, slight daddy kink, use of a sex toy, piv in aforementioned sex toy, lots of creepiness from Joel. DDDNE. A/N: Whoo boy. Finally done. I really really apologize for just dropping off the face of the earth, idk what happened. But anyway here ya go, I think this is my darkest fic yet 😅I absolutely loved writing it. And a small warning, when I say lots of creepiness, I mean lots. I might have overdone it at some points tbh. And to better explain what "smut-adjacent" means, Joel never undresses the reader, just touches her a lot. I had to look up some crazy things for this fic so you're welcome, haha. Okay, enjoy and MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!! DON'T THINK I FORGOT. @thoughts-of-bear here ya go babes 💗 Thanks to @enchanthings for the divider 🙏💞

Joel knew you were at work right now.

Would be, until 10:30 at least. He had time. Plenty of time to set things up. 

Today hadn’t been easy. Tommy had brought on some new workers, straight out of high school practically, to help retile a roof. Instead, they’d horsed around in their hard hats and high-vis vests, doing fuck-all. Joel had given them a stern talking to, but it hadn’t done much. And now he just looked like a bitter old man.

Well, maybe that was who he was. A bitter old man, pushing 60, with no wife or meaningful friends. One who spent a little too much time scrolling on Instagram, touching himself to videos of barely-dressed models dancing to pop songs. But that was just a way to fill the void. That’s what he told himself, anyway.

Joel arrived home a couple hours before sunset, which, this late in April, wasn’t till nearly 8pm. That bitch Melanie had taken their two-bed house in the divorce, forcing him to take up residence in this cramped apartment a full half hour from the city. It was fine though. He took it all in stride. He was not bothered at all. Joel quite liked the place, really. Even if the walls were tinted beige after so many owners and voices whispered to him on his loneliest nights.

The faded light blue couch in the middle of the room welcomed him home. He laid down, feeling pangs of hunger but not yet possessing the strength to get up and throw Stouffer’s in the oven.

Joel propped his feet up on the armrest, and stretched, sighing. Pulling out his phone, he opened Spotify and put on the playlist that…well, never mind. He didn’t like to think about who made it for him. It was a good playlist, plenty of rock songs that somehow soothed him. 

Joel let the music play for a bit while he closed his tired eyes. Everyday he swore he wouldn’t do any more construction jobs lest he throw his back out, but he wouldn’t know what to do without it. Building made sense to him; it was solid, and made him comfortable. Plus it paid his rent.

It also gave him less time to indulge in his…vices.

He laid down for about 15 minutes before forcing himself off the couch with a low groan. Falling asleep on the couch when it was still light outside was a little too pathetic. 

Joel ventured into the tiny kitchen, flipping on the bright white overhead light. His beige-ish fridge greeted him. An old pink sticky note, covered in his small handwriting (an attempt to be more organized with grocery shopping), was peeling off. He watched it flutter to the ground in morose silence.

He opened the freezer compartment. It was filled with frozen meals and Ben and Jerry’s; not particularly healthy, but something was better than nothing, right? Joel did know how to cook for himself, but he found it hard to do so after Melanie left.

The Red Baron Fully Loaded pepperoni pizza looked good. He pulled it out and quickly turned the oven on while he pulled the pizza from the box.

Once the pizza was in the oven, Joel wandered to his bedroom. It was quite small, no surprise there. It just barely fit his mattress and dresser. That was all he really needed, anyway.

He was looking for his comfy sweatpants, the gray ones with the blue stripes going up the sides. He pawed through his pants compartment, but couldn’t find them. No matter how hard he tried, Joel just couldn’t be neat about his clothes.

Joel looked under the bed and grimaced when he saw what was under there— a purchase he was still embarrassed about, even six months later.

His fleshlight.

It was like a symbol of his fall into degeneracy after Melanie had left. Sometimes Joel felt as if he’d been marked as “undesirable” after the divorce— he couldn’t get laid to save his life. It didn’t help that he was fairly depressed and self-medicating with sleeping pills.

After about six months of countless failed one-night stands, Joel had ordered the toy in a moment of self-pity. It had taken some time getting used to it, but after he swallowed his pride he found that it was actually quite enjoyable.

Now he used it regularly, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t imagine it was a certain woman’s pussy.

It had been Melanie that he imagined, for a while, up until January. That was when he met you. 

It had started when he’d entered the CJ Midd a few months ago, looking for a present for his sister-in-law, Maria. Tommy had told him women loved going there, so Joel had gone to the huge, disorganized department store.  It was quite packed full of people with Christmas money.

Joel felt a bit out of place, but he browsed the aisles, looking for something Maria might like. Eventually after sifting through the piles of vaguely-related items (and resisting the urge to just get another mug), he selected a pretty jewelry box with plenty of compartments and space.

Joel trooped up to the register in triumph, only to be abruptly stopped by the mile-long line. There were at least 10 people in front of him, and…

He looked ahead to the registers, and his mouth briefly fell open. A bolt of surprise and anxiety coursed through his body from head to toe. That was…but it wasn’t…

The cashier looked exactly like his ex-wife. Same facial features, same hair texture, similar body shape, just maybe 30 years younger. It was accurate down to the curve of her lips. It was almost uncanny. She could almost be her—

Joel’s thoughts were interrupted by a monotone, robotic female voice coming from the register. “Next. Customer. On. Register Three.”

They’d opened another lane, finally. But…he had to get a closer look at the cashier. Would the universe line up correctly?

Joel waited nervously as the line inched forward, now going slightly faster thanks to the additional cashier. His feet and back started aching, but he held out till there were two people ahead of him.

If his timing was accurate, then…he actually might have to go to the other cashier. Cmon, God, karma, something, he silently prayed, hoping maybe someone would be very quick or very slow.

But his luck wasn’t up to par today. The elderly couple in front of him went to her register, and the young man at the other lane was gathering his bags as they did this.

“Next. Customer. On. Register Three,” the robot spoke, though it wasn’t needed— Joel was already there, albeit unwillingly. He tried to surreptitiously steal glances at the girl while the male cashier in front of him scanned the jewelry box.

She had a pretty smile. He could see a hint of teeth, and watched in awe as her tongue darted out to dampen her lower lip. Suddenly, he needed to get out of here, fast. His palms felt warm and dry at the same time.

Joel hurriedly tapped his card on the reader. After the cashier handed him his receipt, he tried to be as suave as possible and make it seem like he wasn’t ogling her. But the resemblance to Melanie was seriously insane. He took note of the name on her uniform, filing it away. He wondered how he’d never seen her before. Was she new to town? A student at the university 10 minutes from here?

He swallowed hard as he passed her— “Do you need a bag, ma’am?”—And something in him stirred. Not in his pants but in his heart; he had to…see you closer. To know you.

Joel carefully indulged in a controlled interest in you. That was what he repeated to himself a dozen times a day, when he thought about you over his morning coffee, while Tommy gave him the rundown of their latest job, while he drove home listening to Nickelback, while he desperately fucked his fleshlight in the dark. It would not get out of hand like he was known to do. He compartmentalized you into neat packages and only took you out at certain times of the day.

But his mind, his thoughts, they couldn’t stay normal for very long. Your face inevitably bled into his imagination after hours. He returned to CJ Midd the week after that initial meeting, only this time you were stocking the floors. Joel wandered around for a couple hours, carefully stealing glances at your back while you worked, lurking in the next aisle over. When a 30-something year old woman asked where the pots and pans were, Joel closed his eyes and soaked up the sweet honey that was your voice. Then you said, “Well, I’ll show you-” and his eyes flew open as footsteps approached the aisle where he was standing.

Joel very quickly turned around and walked away, heart pounding, just as you and the woman rounded the corner. He darted into the next aisle, then walked further to the back of the store, opposite of the direction you were heading.

He wrung his hands nervously. Shit. If you’d seen the way he was lurking near you, he would have looked very suspicious indeed.

This close call forced Joel to evaluate his actions while he caught his breath in what was apparently the toy section. He was stal— No, no. No need to describe it so harshly. He was simply observing you, that was all. Just trying to find out more about you. People did that all the time when they had a crush.

But this wasn’t a crush in the traditional sense. For one, he knew basically nothing about you besides your name. He didn’t know if you were a student, what your personality was like, not even your last name. Also, it was more than likely he was simply hung up on the fact that you looked so much like Melanie. Some quasi-projection shit, no doubt.

The biggest issue was your age. Joel almost felt predatory, staring at your face that hadn’t been sullied by stress or loss yet. He guessed you were around 23, give or take a few years.

In fact, you seemed so young you could probably pass as his—

He didn’t finish that thought.

Joel spent the next few months learning your schedule at CJ Midd, as well as gleaning as much information as he could. He learned that you worked nights on the weekdays plus Saturday mornings. You wore a lot of band shirts, and he was pleasantly surprised to see that they included some artists he was a big fan of. Occasionally while spying on watching you stock, he would watch you close your eyes for 10 seconds or so and rub your eyes, like you were incredibly tired.

You had a pretty smile. Not the customer service plaster, but the real deal. One that lit up your whole face with dimples and smile lines. It was beautiful and he wanted to see more, more, more of it. More of you. He couldn’t help but imagine your relationship together: lazy Sunday mornings eating bagels, a quick kiss on the cheek before he left for work during the week, cuddling in bed and getting you to massage his back.

“I’m home, baby,” Joel announced, closing the door of his quaint little house. The TV was playing an old sitcom and he could smell good food cooking…pasta?

“Hey. Dinner’s pretty much ready, g’on ahead and wash up,” you called out.

“Yes ma’am,” he whispered, and went to change out of his yard clothes. It had been a hard day of fixing an old, falling-apart deck.

When he got to the dinner table, you were fixing his plate. Today you had made the spaghetti he loves so much, plus garlic bread on the side.

“Perfect, as usual,” Joel told you. He came up to stand behind you at the counter and squeezed your butt, chuckling when you squeaked.

“Sit down, sir,” you mockingly ordered him. “Brewed up some sweet tea too, know how you like that.”

“You know me so well, honey.” Joel poured himself a glass of sweet tea, then sat at the table while you got your plates together.

He glanced at his phone, then groaned. “”S fuckin’ Melanie again,” he sighed.

You looked over. “Really? What does she want now?” You brought over his plate, placing it in front of him.

“Apparently she left some of her hair tools here. She wants to come and grab ‘em tomorrow.”

You sighed, sitting down with your plate and tea. “That annoying bitch. She’s so obsessed with you.”

He smiled and tried to hide it, sipping his tea. “Is my babygirl jealous?”

You scoffed. “Not jealous of that snobby woman, I promise you. I bet there ain’t even anything for her to grab, she just wants to see you. I wish you’d block her.” You twirled a few noodles around your fork and stabbed a bit of meat.

“I consider it a charitable act. She’s clearly lonely, had to move out so far,” Joel said. “I helped her move to that apartment— tiny as hell.” He chuckled.

“Well, I still don’t want her over here,” you insisted. “From all the things you’ve told me about her, it’s a wonder you’re not in serious therapy.” Your eyes narrowed. “That selfish, manipulative bitch doesn’t know how good she had it. You were the best thing that ever happened to her and she threw it away for nothing.” Your eyes softened and you smiled. “But at least you’ve got me now.”

Joel snapped out of his fantasizing and realized that, one, his pizza was still in the oven, and two, he was partially hard. At some point during this walk down memory lane, he’d climbed onto his bed and was gripping the fleshlight. He let it fall from his hand onto the dark green bedspread, then picked it back up and placed it on his dresser. (“It’s a surprise tool, that’ll help us later,” chirped his darkly humorous mind.) As it turned out, his sweatpants were on the floor by his closet, initially hidden by the dresser. Joel picked them up and pulled them on, careful not to excite his growing erection.

He’d be back for that fleshlight.

He went back to the kitchen. Less time had passed than he thought; the pizza wasn’t nearly done. Well, while he waited, he would double check the preparations for tonight.

There was a brown wooden side table by the front door that acted as Joel’s catch-all, where he put his keys and bag. He had a satchel sitting there now, already full. He opened it up. 

Inside there was several items:

A lockpick. A baseball cap. Napkins. Gloves. A small camera. And finally, his other “surprise tool”. The critical item for everything going smoothly. He closed the bag.

Joel sat on the couch, flipping through Hulu till he finally settled on a random movie. Most TV was just noise to him now. He was deaf except when your lips graced his ears with speech.

He ate his pizza in silence. It was about 6:45 now, and the sun’s rays were still shining through Joel’s windows. It would be unwise to leave before sunset, considering what he’d be doing would require some…finesse and privacy. So, he would wait at least until the sun went down before leaving.

At 8:30, while you dreamt of closing early and going home, Joel left his apartment to drive 20 minutes to yours. The sun was setting and the air was humid and muggy, making him uncomfortably warm as he drove his beat up dark blue truck. His satchel was in the passenger’s seat beside him. Traffic in Austin was always heavy, but you lived far enough from the urban area that he managed to avoid it for the most part.

He went over his plan for the thousandth time. Let himself into your apartment, look around a bit, set up a camera to keep an eye on you.

And drop off a gift.

You were still at work— Joel knew this not just because he knew your schedule, but because it had only taken a month and a half of “observation” before he camped outside in his car around closing time and waited for you to come out. He’d identified your car, an old black Toyota Corolla. Then he’d stuck an AirTag on there one night, allowing him to very easily track your trips in real time. If for some reason you left work early, his handy phone app would inform him. Maybe cell phones weren’t all bad, Joel thought, scoffing.

The AirTag had allowed Joel to pinpoint your neighborhood, which he visited a few times. And after a bit of driving around and watching from his car, he learned which collection of buildings you lived in.

He’d gotten lucky, really. If the door required some sort of keycard to get in, he’d have to sweet talk some resident into letting him in. But when he tried the door during a “test run” of sorts back in March, it swung right open. The lock was broken.

Joel could almost laugh at the stupidity, but he just smiled and shook his head. It was like you were asking to be followed.

He’d wanted to explore your apartment, but chickened out at the last moment. One day, he thought.

And that day was today.

Joel ground his teeth, jaw clenched with anticipation while he thought about you. So beautiful and vulnerable and real it physically hurt him. He felt like running around, just to express his emotions. He felt very strongly that if he got the opportunity to talk to you, the two of you would just click. He bet you were so friendly, so understanding, so empathetic. Although he’d only seen you interact with customers and occasionally your coworkers, Joel could tell there was something special inside of you. He’d gotten that same feeling when he met Melanie for the first time. Something that made you stick out from the crowd, something that said you were destined for more. 

Well, he would give you more.

Joel arrived in front of your apartment complex just before 9. It was dark outside, and there were  just a couple teenagers walking down the sidewalk in front of the parking lot. He pulled on the gloves, put on the baseball cap, grabbed his satchel, and exited the car, heart thrumming. He approached the door coolly, praying it was still as broken as it was 2 months ago.

And sure enough, the door came open. He was in, easy as that. Good.

There was no one in the tiny, dirty lobby, lit by a single flickering light. The elevator was out of order. Dammit.

Joel jogged up the stairs, but quickly had to slow to a walk. Old age was getting to him for damn sure. 

Finding out your exact address had probably been the easiest part. After he identified your car, Joel simply used a handy online tool that told him exactly who was registered to your license plate, and where you lived. Honestly, he was starting to like technology more and more.

You lived on the fourth floor. The hallway was quite narrow, and dotted with dark brown doors displaying apartment numbers in shiny black metal.

Your room number was 403. Near the front. Not great, but oh well.

Joel checked the tracker app once more, then walked quietly up to your door, even though it really wasn't necessary. There was no one out here. He could hear faint voices laughing and talking behind the other doors.

His heart was pounding, not just from the stairs but from anticipation and anxiety. His cardiologist, whom he hadn’t seen in years, would say he needed to “lay off the strenuous activity.”

Though he knew it was fruitless, Joel tried your front door. Locked, obviously. That was okay. No biggie. That’s what the lockpick was for.

He brought it out, hands trembling and sweaty in the gloves. This was it- no turning back after this.

Joel had watched a few videos in preparation, and carefully inserted the lockpick. He quickly looked up to see if anyone was watching. Nope. It was just him.

He wiggled it around, but it did nothing. He wiggled it some more, growing more nervous by the second. Okay. Calm. Easy does it. He slowed his efforts and re-inserted the lockpick. After just a couple seconds of finagling, the lock clicked. Joel tried the door and it came open. No fuckin’ way. 

Joel grinned in disbelief, then quickly slipped inside and closed the door behind him, re-locking it. He couldn’t believe it had been that easy. He almost felt sorry for you, living in such a poorly secured area. Well, it was good for him, at least. And it absolved some of his guilt. If it was so easy to find out all this information about you, surely the universe wanted him to get closer?

He flipped on the light switch and looked around at your living quarters. It was around the same size as his apartment, maybe even a bit smaller. A gray loveseat was pushed against the wall, with quite a few clothes thrown over it. A wooden coffee table housed a small TV plus some stacked books. In the corner was a table with random things on it; mail, pencils, a couple business cards. At the back of the room was a kitchenette; just an oven, a tinted beige fridge, and counter space. Most of the counter was taken up by a dirty microwave and a sink.

Joel took this all in, then went to where he knew the real prize would lay. To the right was a door that led to your bedroom. He hesitated only a second before entering.

The first thing Joel noticed was that it was messy. Clothes were strewn everywhere; draped over a rolling chair that sat in front of a narrow desk, spilling out from a dresser, and just on the floor. Your bed was unmade, with a dark blue blanket and an excessive amount of stuffed animals. A laptop, covered completely in stickers, lay on the bed, charging. On the desk was a couple plates and a cup; no doubt you kept forgetting to bring them to the sink.

He checked the app again. Still at work. It was a few minutes after 9 now. Plenty of time, no need to worry. 

Joel wanted to explore your dresser, but reminded himself of the reason he was here so early. Exiting your bedroom, he went back to the living room. Looking around, he identified a small shelf Command-stripped to the wall with a few character figures. That could work.

He brought out the camera. It was pretty small, so hopefully it would go unnoticed for a while. He carefully positioned it in the corner, partially hiding it behind a figure.

This camera had an app, too. Joel chuckled. You were teaching him so much about modern technology. He opened it up; he’d already set it up beforehand to test it. It was still working perfectly; he had a clear view of the living area and kitchenette.

Good. Now that the camera was out of the way, there was just one more thing to do before he could explore further.

Joel walked over to the fridge and opened it. He was looking for any opened drinks, and found them: An open can of Pepsi, and a Corona beer. He took them both out and placed them on the counter.

He reached inside his satchel and brought out one of the “surprise tools” he’d packed: A bottle of Rohypnol. He had spent a lot of time, money, and energy obtaining this, but he’d gotten it in the end. This was the key ingredient.

Joel dropped one tablet in each of the drinks, swishing them around to be sure they dissolved. Then he put the drinks back where they were.

Well. That was both tasks done, and it was barely 9:15. He still had time.

Joel decided to go back to your bedroom. Closing the door behind him, he made a beeline for the dresser, where he hurriedly searched through the drawers for a specific item. And at the bottom left compartment, he found it; your panties. 

There were quite a few pairs. He pawed through them, hardly knowing which one to grab. He took off his gloves and finally grabbed two pairs; one was a light blue pair in the thong style, with a little white bow at the front. The other was a pair of plain gray boyshorts.

He hesitated, then lifted them to his nose. He nearly reeled from the scent- it smelled, well, it smelled like a woman. A natural pussy. He sat stiffly on the bed and laid on his back, bunching your panties up in his fist and placing his nose just above the gusset. Fuck, they smelled crazy good. There was a day that Melanie had come home to Joel jerking off in her panties, and he’d incorrectly assumed she’d be into it. Instead she yelled at him for “ruining a good pair of panties with his degeneracy.” He’d been so embarrassed he couldn’t even point out she could just wash it.

He hoped you were into it.

Joel’s cock was stiff in his pants, but he didn’t want to relieve it. Not yet. He put the blue thong in his pocket and returned the boyshorts to their drawer. He ought to leave now, and wait.

He double checked that he hadn’t moved anything out of his place, then carefully crept out of the apartment. His heart jumped when he saw movement in the hallway, but it was just a kid. Nothing to get worked up about.

Joel made sure your door was locked, then went back down and exited the building. He strode back to his truck, exuberant and excited now.

Now all there was to do was wait.

It was 9:50, but it felt like the seconds were crawling by.

Today actually hadn’t been an awful shift, but you had been stuck on the register for most of the day. Your feet ached horribly. 

Just ten more minutes, you told yourself. 10 minutes, and then hopefully all the customers would be out the door and you could quickly close down your register.

Sometimes people liked to stick around right up until closing time, and obliviously annoyed everyone working.

However, luckily, today no one was in the mood for those shenanigans. You checked out the last customer at 9:59, right on schedule. Garrett, the assistant manager, locked the doors exactly at 10.

From then it was just a waiting game while he counted up your register. You finally were able to sit down, checking all your notifications from the last couple hours. 

One of your friends had posted about her date with her boyfriend, and you felt a tinge of jealousy. It was apparently so easy for everyone to find a partner, except for you. You didn’t know if you stunk or were secretly disfigured or what. 

You scrolled past her post, deciding not to give in to your envious feelings. Romance would come for you one day.

“You’re good to go,” Garrett called out to you from the office. You sighed, then got up to grab your bag. No reason to stick around. 

After clocking out, you promptly left the store and got in your car. It was always a bit scary getting in when it was so dark. You really ought to start parking closer to the doors, but the parking lot was usually pretty full when you arrived.

You started the car and began driving, eager to eat and go to sleep.

The alarm Joel had set jerked him awake from his nap at 10. He quickly checked the tracker. Still at CJ Midd. Hopefully you would be home in 15 or 20 minutes.

He continued to monitor the tracker for about 10 minutes till it finally moved, then started crawling towards your apartment. Finally. His heart skipped a beat.

More waiting in the dark of his truck, then he looked up to see you were actually pulling up beside him. Jesus. Joel ducked down, suddenly nervous you might see him and recognize him. You were so close, too close. He could hardly breathe.

He kept his eyes tightly shut and his head down, listening to you turn off your car and get out. Joel counted to five, then dared to look up.

You were walking towards the building, and soon disappeared inside. Joel swallowed thickly, then opened up the camera feed. A couple minutes passed before you appeared on the right side of the screen. His mouth hung open and he stared, transfixed, as you threw down your bag, kicked off your shoes, and ran your hand through your hair.

Joel watched you immediately crash onto the couch, laying down for a good couple minutes before shifting into a sitting position. You put your feet up on the table and rested there.

He observed with bated breath. Joel didn’t really know what he would do if you didn’t drink either of the things he’d spiked.

But then, oh happy days, you got up and went to the kitchen, opening the fridge. Blood roared in Joel’s ears as he watched you take out the Pepsi and take a big swig of it.

Good. It was inevitable now. Just a matter of time. He’d be in there in less than half an hour.

You took another sip and put the can down on the counter. Then you opened up a cabinet and came out with a chocolate bar, which you ate on the couch. Joel watched in awe as your movements got slower and slower. You got up, then, apparently changing your mind, laid back down on the couch, stretching lazily. The chocolate fell from your hand and your body sagged, finally succumbing to the rohypnol. 

Joel smiled goofily. He couldn’t believe that had actually worked. It had worked beautifully. He wasted no time grabbing his satchel again and hustling to the building. Honestly he probably should have waited a few minutes to be sure. But his cock was painfully hard in his jeans. He needed release, now. 

He climbed up to the fourth floor again, double-checking that no one was around to watch him slip into a young woman’s apartment. Then he glided up to your door, then nervously lock picked it again. The door came open even easier this time. Seriously, it was like you were begging for this.

Carefully cracking the door open a bit, Joel peeked inside. You were still on the couch, passed out. He slipped inside and closed the door behind him, locking it securely.

He was in.

Joel walked over and examined your unconscious body. You snored softly, eyes delicately closed. Heavens above, you were so pretty. Just like Melanie. 

He’d forgotten to bring rope to bind your hands with, but that was okay. Joel lifted your body and carried you bridal-style to the bedroom, depositing you on the bed on your stomach. Then he climbed on and knelt on all fours above you.

He was acutely aware of his heavy breathing. His cock was straining at his jeans, probably already leaking pre-cum.

Joel pulled out his phone and flipped you onto your side. He aimed the camera at your face and snapped a few photos, licking his lips. Those would come in handy in the future.

Then he examined your body some more. His hungry eyes ran over your hair, the curve of your lips, your breasts, and your legs. It was all beautiful to him.

He stroked your cheek and let out a sharp, quiet whine. Your skin was so soft.

He tried to control his breathing, but it was no use. Your faint scent was heady, and he was glad you hadn’t showered- he wanted to indulge in your natural smell.

Joel put his nose to your collarbone and sniffed. Fuck, that smelled good as hell. His lips were parted and he couldn’t help but quickly lick your neck. His cock twitched.

At this point he was just edging himself, so he quickly unzipped his pants and stepped out of them, keeping his boxers on.

He’d already made this promise to himself: he would not take you without your permission. He was a gentleman.

However, as long as he didn’t directly touch your naked body, the only crime committed here, really, was breaking and entering. Oh, and drugging you.

Melanie’s face floated through his mind. She’d called Joel “controlling” and “suffocating” and even “abusive” when she’d demanded a divorce. That bitch. She didn’t know how controlling he could really be. Didn’t know how fucking ridiculous it was to get a restraining order, how it destroyed his world, when all he wanted was to see was his daughter. Their daughter. 24 years old now, was graduating from college next month, and he couldn’t even be at her graduation. The light of his life, taken away by the manipulative liar he once called his wife.

Joel grit his teeth. He looked at you, at your face, that was so like his ex-wife’s. And his feelings were warped. He loved you, for who you could be, and he hated you, for who you were like. It was like he was getting a do-over, a second chance…not at redemption, but at revenge. 

He looked down at your shirt to see that a bit of spit had dripped from his mouth and made a puddle. He was drooling, lost in a dark fantasy. He closed his mouth.

Joel got up and pulled off his black t-shirt, then opened his satchel for the final thing he needed tonight.

The fleshlight.

If Joel couldn’t actually touch you, then he would replicate it as closely as possible. He brought out a small bottle of lube as well. Then he stepped out of his boxers, allowing his thick, throbbing cock to finally spring free and stand at attention. He spread some lube on his shaft, inhaling slightly as he finally felt some respite. He then climbed back on the bed and balanced the fleshlight on your butt and back, aligning it so the hole lined up with where he imagined yours was.

Taking a deep breath, Joel laid on top of you with his cock pressing on the fleshlight. His legs were on either side of your body, slightly squeezing into your butt. He paused, then closed his eyes. Imagined you were fully conscious and panting underneath him, spreading your legs wide to accommodate his fat shaft. 

“Fuck, Joel,” you whined, using one hand to keep your asscheek spread. You looked back at him with teary eyes, driven insane by his edging and teasing.

“You want it?” he demanded, slapping your other asscheek, giving it a reddish tinge. “You want my cock, you needy little bitch?”

“Yes, please please please,” you cried, moving your butt back and forth, rubbing it against his weeping tip.

“You’re so fuckin’-” He licked his lips. “Tell me who your Daddy is.”

You whined. “You are, Daddy, you are.” 

Then you looked back at him again, and your face had morphed to Melanie’s. Joel briefly faltered, then his eyes narrowed. “You greedy whore.”

His ex-wife pouted. “I want it, Daddy. I miss you.”

He dragged in a ragged breath. “You do?”

You nodded.

Joel looked down at the fleshlight and growled, “This is what you get for leaving me.” He gripped the black casing of the toy and slid inside, whining loudly. Panting, he leaned over your unmoving body, one hand gripping the case and the other in your hair. 

Then he started moving, in and out of the fleshlight. A low growl sounded in his throat and he thrusted faster, channeling all the anger and hopelessness he’d felt for the past year. Your body bounced along with his movements.

Joel sunk his teeth into your shoulder, biting softly. Then he licked your face all over; your neck, your cheek, even a bit of your nose. Though he’d swore to himself he wouldn’t touch you…this wasn’t touching, really. It was basically foreplay. Nothing serious.

He was faintly aware of how he was growling and breathing heavily in your ear. If you were conscious, you probably would be terrified. Good thing you weren’t. He humped your body, fucking the fleshlight with all his might, pretending it was you or Melanie or both, he guessed. Pretending, or perhaps halfway believing, that this was his opportunity to work out his rage.

“Is this too controlling, baby?” Joel whispered, squeezing your asscheek. “I’m the- only one- who dicks you down like this.” He punctuated each phrase with a hard thrust into the fleshlight. “Ungrateful bitch. You’re the controlling one, not letting me see my own daughter. My baby girl.” 

Joel continued to fuck the fleshlight wildly, muttering angry words all the while and occasionally drooling when he got too lost in a violent fantasy. His fingers gripped your shoulder harshly- it would probably leave marks you wouldn’t be able to explain in the morning. No matter. It was still fine- you were still fully clothed. He was not doing anything wrong. 

“Ah! Joel, fuck, please, it’s so big-” you gasped, eyes rolling from the overstimulation.

“You regret leaving me now, don’t you?” Joel demanded.

You nodded desperately. “Yes, please, fuck, I never should have left, I’m so fuckin’ stupid-”

“Damn right,” he muttered, continuing to fuck you. “You’re lucky you’ve got a tight pretty pussy. Fuckin’ falling apart on my cock, ain’t you?”

Whining loudly, you cried, “C-Can I come back, Daddy? Please, I’m nothing without you, so useless, so stupid, pleaseplease Daddy I wanna c-comee-”

With a shout, Joel’s balls tightened and, mouth hanging open, he emptied his load in the fleshlight. His thrusts got sloppier, and his cock slipped out, slotting neatly between your asscheeks. He didn’t falter, just jerked himself off on your butt and shot thick, white bursts of cum. Joel buried his face in your neck and humped you wildly, riding out his orgasm without a second thought.

When he’d finally drained his balls, Joel collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily. It was a minute or two before he realized the gravity of the situation. He’d ruined your clothes, and probably left bruises on your arms as well. Shit. He’d gotten too into it.

He examined the damage. There were a few fairly thick lines of cum on your pants and shirt, and some more had leaked out of the fleshlight onto your blanket. Joel first picked up the fleshlight, then took it to your bathroom to wash it. He let the sink run through it while he grabbed some paper towels and came back to where you lay. Miraculously, you were still sound asleep. He looked at his phone. Nearly 11. You would stay unconscious for another six hours, at the very least. 

Joel wiped the cum off your body as best as he could, and luckily it didn’t smear too bad. You might question the random stain on your clothes, if you even saw them before washing them, but you’d have no idea what caused it. 

He dabbed at the marks in your skin as well, but there wasn’t much he could do about them. At least he hadn’t drawn blood.

Once he’d cleaned you up, Joel pulled his clothes back on, then went back to the bathroom and switched off the water. He shook the excess out of the fleshlight, then dried it off a little with some paper towels. He’d probably have to clean it again later just to be sure.

Then he came back to the bedroom and carried you to the living room again. Since you’d passed out on the sofa, it was best if you woke up there as well. Joel arranged you in what he was pretty sure was your original position, then gently kissed you. You were so beautiful. He felt a little embarrassed that he’d projected his anger onto you like that.

At least he felt much better now, having practically beat up the fleshlight.

Joel reminded himself again that he’d done nothing wrong, besides maybe breaking and entering. And even then, security had been so flimsy you’d basically asked for it.

He was owed this, really. 

And since the universe had clearly aligned to let Joel into your life, maybe he’d visit again sometime.

Giving you one final kiss on the forehead, Joel shouldered his satchel and left you on the couch, his own little Sleeping Beauty.

His pretty darling.

Maybe even his future wife.

The world was blurry and dark as you slowly opened your eyes. You were disoriented and dizzy.

What…happened?

You looked around. You were still in your work clothes, laying over the sofa. What time was it? Why were you still in your day clothes? And what was that smell?

You struggled to sit up, and your head pulsed, sounding like a train whistle. It was difficult to make anything out in the shadows.

After laying down for a bit longer, you finally managed to hobble your way to the light switch, bumping into furniture and holding your head the whole way there. The lights were flicked on and you quickly closed your eyes.

The light took some getting used to, but you slowly reopened your eyes and eventually were able to look around, albeit with the headache remaining. Your shoulders ached too, you guess because you’d slept in an awkward position.

The room looked…the same. Everything seemed to be in place, nothing was missing or moved. 

You tried to locate the source of the faint smell, but it was like it was following you. Eventually you gave up and figured you’d fallen asleep right after eating something. You couldn’t identify it though. But it smelled…heavy. And wet.

Now, where was your phone?

You looked around for it, and it turned out to be still in your bag. You squinted against the harsh blue light.

It was 5:52AM. What a strange, random time to wake up.

You thought hard about last night. The last thing you remembered was getting home from work and grabbing a snack. That was it. You hadn’t fallen, hadn’t drank, weren’t even particularly tired.

It was a mystery. Maybe you were more exhausted than you thought.

Eventually you made your way to your bedroom, still feeling sick. To your surprise, the smell got a little stronger when you entered.

It was unclear why. The room looked the same, nothing out of order or obviously missing. 

You followed your nose, and it led you to the bed. It still wasn’t strong, but it was definitely there.

You put your nose to the bedspread and smelled, and nearly gagged. Ugh. Did you spill something there and forget about it?

In any case, you clearly needed to wash your sheets. You didn’t do that often enough anyway.

However, that could wait until later. You had work again later today, but it was way too early to be awake…plus you were still sleepy…

Crawling onto your bed, you shimmied out of your pants, then laid down, too tired to even get under the blanket.

You tried to fall asleep, but after a couple minutes shifted position and felt something touch your right foot. You jerked, then reached down to grab whatever it was.

You brought it out and held it up to the slowly advancing twilight.

It was a glove.

[mossyswritingcorner]

Hi hi! So, to preface this, yes I am working on a ViriPV pt 2(which btw, thank you guys so much for all the love on that!!! I did not expect it to do so well on here haha), this is just a side project in the meantime. I’m a little less sure of how Sage of Truth Shadow Milk would act, but I’ve always pictured Sage being a clever witted guy who has some lighthearted, teasing sass to him in contrast to Shadow Milk’s biting cynicism and inclination to see everything as a game he’s the player of. For clarity, this is not pre-corruption Shadow Milk(Fount of Knowledge), this is based on the AU costume Sage of Truth from CRK where PV(Truthless Recluse) is the beast and Sage of Truth is the ancient. This one is a bit of a slower burn, if I do continue it, I’d say it’ll be roughly two more parts, this is just kinda intro and creating a fun dynamic between reader and Sage(also I’ll have him get called by his name instead of Sage next chapter, reader just genuinely doesn’t know it yet)

Let me know if you’d like to see more of this one, and also leave any writing requests in the ask box if you have any! Just keep in mind I won’t do nsfw(maybe down the line I’ll make a separate blog for it once I get more comfortable writing it, but that might be a while from now) or any proshipping.

Anyways, without further ado, enjoy Archivist!Reader x Professor!Sage of Truth

Pt 2

The Sage of Truth was an odd cookie, that’s quite certain.

You’d heard all the praises and prose dedicated to the ancient cookie, with many speaking of his unconventional genius and eternal thirst for knowledge for the good of all cookiekind; perhaps even grown to admire the Sage through your passive readings of his published works.

Some of his findings and theories even helped to propel your own research at the college further, with your shifts in the campus library being spent pouring over ancient texts concerning cookie philosophy and biology in between helping stray students.

However, you never would have imagined he would be coming HERE, to your own academy, to teach a semester’s worth of classes to the next generation.

You’d been a prestigious graduate from the Parfaedia Institute just a few years back, and promptly took up the role as one of the institute’s many archivists so you could continue your research using academy resources. However, your days as a student sitting through lectures were long since gone when there was finally a professor you would kill to hear from, and your higher ups at the academy would surely frown on you attending the classes in earnest when you had already achieved your degree.

So, when the day of the sage’s arrival finally came, and the hour of his first lecture ticked idly by, you just so happened to take your lunch break 3 hours early and coincidentally lingered by the door where his class was set to be.

The barrier between you and a substantial academic inspiration of yours was breached only by the sliver of light slipping out of the crack in the closed door and the muffled sounds of the Sage’s speech.

And listening to his lecture was like a dream! All of his musings were insightful and enriching, with his spoken word being just as powerful as the perfected papers he’d pushed out into Earthbread, and he seemed to carry a teasing levity that broke up the complex concepts into something understandable for the young cookie minds waiting to be melded just inside. You yourself couldn’t help a few giggles escaping you at the Sage’s jests, before quickly remembering your precarious position and silencing yourself.

As the Sage uttered his final regards to the class, you scurried off back to your desk in the archives before the doors could be pushed open, completely oblivious to the intrigued quirk of his iced brow at the frantic, fading footsteps just outside in the room.

You continue this routine for the next few days, sneaking out during your breaks to listen to his lectures, with these secret excursions only pushing you further into your own research, the Sage’s words serving as a muse to your yearnings for knowledge.

Yet, there seemed to be…subtle changes in the routine that most likely meant nothing, but you couldn’t help but take note of them regardless. It started simple, with the Sage seeming to project his voice a bit louder than usual, but you weren’t about to complain when it made it all the easier for you to overhear the lecture. Then, he began to leave copies of his lecture notes outside the door, free for the taking; which was most likely just for the cookies who were absent from the class and needed to acquire the notes they missed. Until finally, one day he just started leaving the doors to the lecture hall propped open, which you could only guess as to the reason why for that - though you mourned the ease which you eavesdropped on the Sage’s classes, since now he’d surely spot you listening in if you weren’t careful.

Yet, you didn’t let that deter you as you clung to the shadows, staying out of the sight line the doorway afforded those inside as the Sage delved into the workings of philosophy, “You see, all cookies hold their unique idea of truth, their ideals which shape their outwards actions. Some cookies value standing out above all else, and thus seek opportunities to prove themselves and draw the eyes of others, while others value being unobtrusive and subtle, so they lurk out of sight to listen.” He explains simply, and you swear you hear the smirk in his voice as your dough pales.

What did he mean by that? Was that just a random example? Pure coincidence? Or did he know you’d been listening in on his classes?

“Yet, it is always important to note that neither one of these concepts of living are better than the other, they instead coexist as simultaneous truths that shape our variations - that make our world all the more intiguing. It is in these intersections of truth for which we nuance, and the unmistakable desire to understand those which we don’t know. Every truth has a mystery to unravel, a grand play to unfold on stage, a narrative to divulge into, and I myself have taken the greatest joy in seeking answers in the unusual, in taking my part in this grand back and forth between the unknown and us. Furthermore…”

As the Sage of Truth continues on with his lecture, you’re only half-listening as you internally question whether the cookie was aware of your presence the entire time, and if all the small shifts in routine were actually purposeful.

But that’s crazy, isn’t it? Why would such an important cookie care in the slightest about someone watching him lecture? You were just being paranoid…right?

In fact, you’re so focused on your own thoughts you entirely miss the Sage trailing off into a conclusion, his voice growing closer and closer as he makes his way over to the doors, “Anywho, class dismissed! Until next time, my pupils!” He suddenly announced from what sounded like a yard away, successfully snapping you out of your thoughts and leaving you to hurry down the hallway with far less time than you’re usually afforded, leaving the Sage of Truth himself to steal a glimpse of you right before you turned out of sight.

An archivist, huh? Well, that makes things a lot more interesting.

~~~~~~~~~~~

You retreat back into your office, letting out a sigh as you slump against your desk. That was too close.

You really should stop here, you were almost caught! Not to mention how humiliating a position it was for you to be hiding away just to listen to some cookie you’ve never even met personally lecture. Cookies were catching onto you, so you had to stop this now!

…but his next lecture was going to be directly related to your research, and his insights would be really helpful in shaping your argument better. You were already getting imposter syndrome regarding the thesis and fifteen page packet you’d concocted over the last few weeks, a very rough draft of the inevitable theory proposal you’d publish, so maybe this one last lecture was the push that you’d need to finish it up?

Besides…what could be the harm in just one final sequence of “pure coincidence” when you still held plausible deniability? You just stopped by his classroom to look at the posters nearby, or you were looking for another professor and thought they might be there, or some other excuse you could surely concoct. Just one more. One last lecture.

So, you kept to your usual routine of sneaking off during your early lunch, only to find the classroom entirely empty once you arrived, with a note attached to the door in frilly, cursive lettering, “Lecture cancelled for meeting, free period”.

You can’t help the disappointment that overcomes you, cancelled because of a meeting? You didn’t hear about any upcoming faculty meetings, but maybe this was for the best. “One last lecture” turned out to be none at all, and this might be your cue from the universe to accept that - to quit while you’re ahead. So, you dejectedly walk all the way back to the library and enter your office without even looking up, tossing your bag down onto the floor and letting out a sigh, “…witches…it’s back to just me and my stupid, shoddy thesis…” You grumble under your breath.

“I actually think it’s quite insightful.”

You jolt at the sound of the all-too-familiar voice, the voice you’d been listening to from the shadows for weeks, immediately twisting your head around to see the Sage of Truth himself standing over your desk - which you left carelessly littered with your notes and enthused writings about your theories, which the cookie seemed all too enthused about reading over.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, my secret pupil.” He grins.

Witches.

[starlightandfairies]

Hiii 🫶🏼 I hope you're still up for doing an Elijah request! 🤗 I can't get this man out of my head haha

Soo it would be an idea where they met somewhere in Mystic Falls and immediately felt some bond between them, so it happens that they start falling in love (she's human but knows about vampires) but she's too afraid to get hurt so she also tries not to get too close to Elijah. One night he sees some stranger following her home from the Grill and even starts attacking her, Elijah is immediately there saving her and taking her home with him to treat her wounds (mostly some scratches) and he's just super worried. There she realizes that Elijah would never be the one hurting her and they finally share their feelings with a lot of kissing and cuddles afterwards and he holds her, telling how much she means to him.

Oh I hope this is not too weird at all 🙈❤️

Description: Upon meeting Elijah Mikaelson, the feelings start to come but in fear of being hurt, the reader decides to keep her walls up to protect herself. This changes after Elijah protects her after being attacked.

Warnings: fluff, small angst, physical assault (mild), she/her pronouns, maybe swearing?

*Requests are open, please send through as many requests as you want, check my character list and requesting rules.*

Thanks so much for making this request! I can never get sick of Elijah, this man is always on my mind and please feel free to request again if you wish :) I really enjoyed writing this, thank you again :D

Key: Y/N = Your Name, POV = Point of view

Word Count: 2,125

First Person's POV

Tonight at the Grill was a ‘live acoustics’ night, some of the performers were good and others were quite frankly not that great. Bonnie, Elena and Caroline were off on the next big adventure for the vampiric save-the-day business and while I knew about all the vampires, witches, werewolves and all that extra fun stuff. Besides Matt, I was the only human in the group and somehow I was pushed aside to be kept ‘safe; despite Matt always being dragged into the whirlpool of drama even if he didn’t want to be. 

“The music is wonderful for the atmosphere tonight, don’t you agree?” That voice would haunt my dreams, haunt my every thought, I couldn’t fathom how gentle and warm a voice could sound. I glanced to the side, shooting a polite smile to the impeccably dressed man and nodded in agreement. 

“I do agree, I feel like I’m in like a cute little romance story, the warm lighting and the music-“ I cut myself short, realising I was babbling to a random stranger who more than likely did not care for my ideas and thoughts. 

“I can see how you would see that.” Oh, gosh- those eyes! That smile! This man would haunt me forever, picture perfect and everything I would want in a man. I continued to share a polite smile with the man, fiddling with the straw in my chocolate milkshake and turned myself slightly to face the man a little better. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you…?” Realising that he was waiting for my name, I placed my drink down and took his hand. 

“Y/N L/N” He softly cupped my hand, shaking it and proceeded to share his name.

“Elijah Mikaelson.” I wish I could’ve hidden my reaction better, my eyes went wide, and my smile flattened for a moment before I quickly made sure to continue to be nice and polite. Elijah carefully rested my head on the bar, took a small sip of whatever his drink was and gazed at me with a quizzical look. 

“You know who I am…” His tone was neither harsh nor hurt, Elijah seemed to have suspected my knowledge of his name and he even seemed curious by the idea of my knowledge. 

“I know of your brother Niklaus… Elena told me about you, I think she might have exaggerated a bit. You don’t seem like the antagonist she kinda painted you out to be. From what I’ve heard, you’re the nicer brother… the noble one and I'm sure first glances can be deceiving but… I don’t know- you don’t seem like a bad man.”  He briefly licked his lips, eyes shooting up to the ceiling and seemed to be contemplating his next moves. 

“I suppose you know-“ 

“That you’re a…” I leaned closer to whisper so people passing by wouldn’t hear. 

“An Original.” 

“You don’t seem to be phased.”

“Team doppelgänger has built up my immunity to supernatural beings.” I let out a weak chuckle, cringing internally and turned my focus back on my drink. I wanted to keep speaking with him, I really did want to keep speaking with him but I knew the world that I happened to live in and I didn’t fancy the idea of being bait or hurt as collateral damage. 

“It was really nice to meet you Elijah but I have to go.” He nodded, that handsome smile appearing once more, his actions made me gush and brought butterflies into my belly as he grabbed my jacket and assisted in placing it back on. 

“I hope that you have a good evening, Y/N” 

“Same to you Elijah.” He seemed to have a thought pop into his head, I stopped in my tracks, allowing for him to have the benefit of the doubt and give him the chance to speak his mind. 

“May I have the pleasure of seeing you again?” 

“Maybe… There’s always tomorrow.” I knew I had given myself away, I could feel my heart skip a beat, I’m sure he could hear it, his facial expression didn’t change but I could feel that he knew what I was feeling. 

“Have a good evening,” I whispered, brushing past him to carry on my way. 

+++++++

I had seen Elijah a couple of times since our first meeting, we had small conversations and I tried my best to conceal my heart, I didn't want to get close to this man despite enjoying his presence, his voice and the true appearance of his gentlemanly ways made me fall into a daydream greater than any story or dream I could ever have or read. 

The next time I saw Elijah was three months after our first meeting, as I said we had multiple different meetings and they were all the greatest moments of my life despite how much I tried to protect my fragile heart. I had left my home for the park, I wanted to read outside of my home and get some fresh air away from the stuffiness of my bedroom. I rested the picnic blanket underneath a large tree, I read three chapters of my book before I felt a presence looming nearby, I placed the book to the side and stood up, surveying the area for a figure and jumped in my skin seeing Elijah approaching me. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you, may I join you?" I nodded, smiling at the man, watching as he unbuttoned his shirt and sat down with me on the picnic blanket. He gently picked my book up, staring at the cover with intrigue, I observed him with butterflies growing in my stomach, a blush wanting to form on my cheeks as I continued to drown in what was possibly a huge crush for the Original Vampire. 

"Ignite Me by Tahereh Mafi... I'm not sure I've heard of this one before." 

"I doubt you would've, I don't exactly picture you reading a book like this?" He smiled, tilting his head slightly, a deep chuckle leaving his mouth and he handed me back the book. 

"Why is that?" 

"Well... I don't know, I picture you reading older books nothing from the late 20th century to the early 21st century." Elijah briefly nodded in agreement, I smiled proudly at my guess and fiddled with the tassels hanging off of my bookmark. The vampire took off his suit jacket and began rolling up the sleeves of his button-up, I bit the inside of my cheek, begging myself to remain calm and avoid giving away any kind of emotions being revealed. 

"Enlighten me, will you though, please? What's it about?" I cleared my throat, leaning closer to him with joy forming, giddy that he was showing interest in something that I liked and enjoyed. 

"It's the third book in the series, I've read it before, and this one is one of my favourites. Essentially the series is all about control some people have these powers and the leaders are trying to control these people. The relationship of the main characters is what I happen to enjoy the most about it, I love how Tahereh created their bond from..." 

"Why did you stop?" Elijah gently questioned, his face furrowing in concern, I wanted to cringe but I forced the words out before I could let that show. Taking a deep breath, I turned my gaze back to him, scrunching my face up briefly and proceeded to explain to Elijah what was going through my head. 

"Whenever I ramble on to the Salvatores and all that, it's clear that they don't care and I'm not wanting to force that onto you. I'm sorry." Elijah tutted, shaking his head and holding out his hand for me to take. Hesitating for a moment, I finally rested my hand in his, holding my breath for a moment and kept my eyes focused on him as he rested his other hand on top of mine. 

"You do that too often, Y/N, I can see you trying to protect your heart and you have a wide range of information waiting to come out and you shut yourself down because you expect everyone else to do that. I hope you find someone... someone who makes you realise you don't need to do that." 

"Could possibly end up being you, Elijah," I whispered.

+++++

When someone unknown came into Mystic Falls, it was always a concerning event, the vampires were always the most suspicious of strangers and most of the time they were typically right for not trusting the stranger. It was late when I left the grill tonight, Elijah was growing on my mind more and more, and I would be hit with a wave of memories at random moments. 

"Up ahead, there's an alley to your right, walk down it. Try anything-" 

"Okay... I understand." I whispered, complying as I walked a little quicker and turned down the alleyway. I cried out as I was instantly shoved against the wall, my head ached and the world spun around me, I bit back a sob as I hit the ground and hissed as the gravel bit into my skin. I kicked off my heels, not fancying a broken ankle and lept to my feet running towards the street but missed as the man tackled me to the ground and which resulted in blood slightly trickling down my forehead and more cuts forming against my skin. 

It felt like something out of a vampire movie, I heard a whoosh and then a light thud. Elijah appeared, holding the man against the wall effortlessly with one hand and easily compelled the man to walk off and not commit any sort of crime again. I let out a few sobs as the pain sunk in and the adrenaline started to fade away.

Elijah swooped me into his arms, effortlessly taking me to his mansion and rested me down on his obnoxiously large bed. He crouched down, gently cupping my face in his hands, observing my facial features and swiftly disappeared somewhere before running back. 

"Are you okay?" He questioned, focusing on grabbing the things from the first-aid kit to treat my wounds. 

"I'm okay..." I whispered, hissing as he wiped an alcohol wipe across the graze on my palm and watched as he apologised profusely for inflicting any added pain onto me. Elijah was so attentive to my needs, he cleaned the blood and dirt away from my cuts and grazes. Covering them with bandaids, doing what he could to assist in caring for me. It was as he was lingering for a moment, observing my form that I realised that Elijah Mikaelson would never hurt me. He would never cause any harm to me, Elijah Mikaelson would protect me and I knew that I wouldn't need to worry any longer. 

"You wouldn't hurt me..." I whispered, staring at the vampire as he grasped my face and held eye contact with me. 

"Y/N L/N I would never dream of hurting you, you... you're perfect... Y/N you are the epitome of perfect, I haven't met someone as intelligent, kind, sweet, and funny in a long time. Y/N I love you and I hope that you'll allow-" I pushed myself closer to him, carefully cupping his face to kiss the man who had possessed my dreams too often. 

"Elijah, please, never let me go, I can't keep guarding myself-" 

"Shhh, I've got you." He kissed my forehead, pulling me into his arms and pushing himself to lay against the headboard of his bed. I inhaled, holding onto the warm and mesmerising smell of his cologne, I curled into his chest and hummed gently as he rested another kiss on my forehead. 

I felt protected, Elijah was my guardian angel, and he made me feel warm and gooey. Made me giddy and the butterflies a constant swarm in my belly, I fiddled with his hands, staring at the family ring that rested on his finger and glanced to him as he pulled my face to meet his. I hummed as he rested a kiss against my lips, sucking in another deep breath and curling in closer as he strokes my hair, his touch comforting and loving. 

"Can I stay here? Just in your arms? Where I'm safe and with you, you Elijah who looks after me and takes the time to listen and know me?" Elijah's smile made the butterflies come to life, my cheeks flushed red and his simple words reassured me for an infinity of time. 

"Always and forever." 

[comicwritesstuff]

okay this is so incredibly specific so please feel free to ignore BUT i’ve been wanting to read a fic for ages where the reader is Chase’s childhood best friend from Australia and she moves to New Jersey for a fresh start. She’s staying with Chase while she gets settled, and one day she comes to visit him at lunch at the hospital, where she ends up meeting House and he’s… intrigued by her 👀 either romantic or smut would be so very cool :^D <33 💐

YES. I LOVE THIS PROMPT IM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG BUT IM FINISHED!!!

Gregory House x Fem!Chases bsf!Reader

Warnings: None really, just cussing and tooth rotting fluff >:) 3k+ words.

Chase's POV: 

“Well I was just wondering if we could go out sometime, I think you're really-” My attention shifted as y/n's call lit up my phone, interrupting the conversation. It was a more pressing matter than pursuing a one-night stand.

“Excuse me for a moment.” I say walking away, the woman having an annoyed look on her face. 

I answer the phone.

“Hello, y/n? Whats up” 

“Chase! Long time no talk haha.”

“You called me yesterday.”

“Learn to take a joke, anyways, I have some exciting news for you.”

“I’m moving to New Jersey!!” 

“Wait what? Really?”

“Yeah, I kinda forgot to tell you and i'm actually at the airport right now, so I hope you aren't busy tomorrow so you can pick me up.”

“Wow, um alright, yeah I can pick you up, do you have a place to stay?"

“Um…no…” I sigh, “Just stay at mine for now.”

“Don't even with the sigh i’ve known you my whole life you can put the nightly hookups on hold for your best friend.” 

I smirk and shake my head, “Yeah yeah, I’ll see ya tomorrow y/n” 

Y/N’s POV:

I smile as I hang up with Chase, grabbing my luggage and pulling it along the airport. Ahh yes, crying babies, rushed parents, annoying couples and that one insanely attractive person you see for a split second, I love the airport. 

Glancing at my ticket I realize I might have to hurry to make it to the gate, speed walking I see a text from chase, “Have a safe flight.” Let's hope so. 

Time skip (to lazy to write all the details about fucking airports)

Relaxing on a 21-hour flight proved challenging, especially with a toddler nearby. It was unclear whether the toddler would be a source of annoyance or just be tolerable. The flight just started. So to entertain myself I decide to do some digging about Chase's job, he brags about it all the time and the infamous Dr Gregory House. To be honest I thought Chase was gay for a little while with how much he talks about him. Still speculating. 

The plane lifts off and I start my look, at first just looking up Gregory House, a surprising amount of things show up. An article titled, “Gregory House, Talented Doctor? Or a lying Narcissist?” Oh well that's a good first impression.   

Scrolling down I see another article, “The world's greatest doctor, and his deepest secrets” 

Now that's enticing. I click on it only to find out his deepest secrets, including using 3 in one shampoo and how his leg got hurt. I guess people hardly know anything about him. I click on the photos of him, there's only a couple, most of them blurry but to be honest he's pretty good looking from the photos I can see. I’d honestly be gay for him if I was Chase. 

The toddler next to me starts giggling, I glance at her and notice her staring at a picture of House. She's kicking her feet too. That's so relatable. 

For the rest of the flight I find some stuff about this guy named Taub, who somehow also figured out that he cheated on his wife which is why he had to quit. How did I find that out? I took a coding class in 8th grade. (I got lucky) 

Lisa Cuddy the Dean of Medicine, unfortunately only good stuff about her, boring. 

Remy Hadley, oddly, can't find anything on her. 

Eric Foreman, his brothers in jail, fun. 

And the others are just as boring. For the remainder of the flight, the toddler proved surprisingly chill. I passed the time by binge-watching random movies I had downloaded earlier

*Another time skip to plane landing* 

Finally, 21 hours on a fucking plane is horrible. 

I check my phone after I take it off airplane mode, seeing a text from chase a couple minutes ago. 

“I’m at the airport, is your flight done?”

“Yep, wya.”

“I’m parked in the front.”

“That's specific” 

“There's no other front dumbass”

I roll my eyes at his text, and get off the plane as soon as I can. I walk out and see Chase standing outside his car waiting for me. His eyes light up as he spots me, and a grin spreads across his face. Unable to resist, I rush forward and envelop him in a bear hug.

“Man you’re a lot uglier in person” 

I say jokingly, smirking.

“Oh shut up”  

We climbed into his car, and he drove us back to his apartment. When we arrive he helps get my crap into the house, before he gets a call saying he had to head to work. 

Eventually a week or two passes, I've gotten more comfortable in his apartment, applied for a bunch of jobs, and looked for places to stay so I’m not invading his “man” space anymore. Unfortunately there aren't a lot of options, and no jobs have replied to my applications, which is weird since im overqualified, it's almost like they aren’t even getting my applications in the first place. 

I’m doing the dishes when I get a text from Chase.

“Hey, I left my wallet on the counter, so I don’t have money for food, could ya bring it for me?” 

“Nah”

“See you soon”

I breathe out a laugh and grab his wallet, putting a coat on then driving to the hospital. 

When I get there I walk in, looking around before I call Chase, “Where do I go this place is huge” I can hear talking in the background, actually more like arguing. “Uhm just wait at the entrance i’ll be right there.” He says in a whisper.

He hangs up so I just stand there awkwardly waiting, that was a weird ass phone call. To be fair Chase is a weird ass guy with weird ass coworkers so what do I expect at this point. 

Before I see Chase I see Dr Gregory House, limping quickly towards me. And damn he’s even hotter in person than the pictures I saw of him. 

“Hey, no time to explain, you need to come with me.” He grabs my arm dragging me into the elevator. Before it closes I see Chase come out of the stairway, he sprints towards the elevator but it closes. I hear him trying to say something, but it's muffled and I can’t understand it. Wait why the fuck did I even follow House? 

“You're real compliant, you’d make a great hooker.” 

I turn around and side eye him.

“Thanks, so would you.” I say giving a fake smile. 

“Speaking of compliant, why did you drag me away from Chase? What's going on?’’

“I made a bet with Chase.”

“That's really specific and helpful thanks” 

“Oh yeah no problem” 

Sarcastic asshole. 

“If you don’t tell me, I'll stop following you and go with Chase.” 

He rolls his eyes.

“Fine, Mom! The bet is that I can convince you to work as my assistant here.”

“Really? That's it? I need a job. Why would Chase even bet against that?” 

“He thinks you’ll fall in love with me so he doesn’t want that to happen, in his words, “She has a thing for homeless looking, narcissistic assholes with beards.” So he’s trying to prevent it, and he’s sure he can.”  

Damn- I feel so called out. I stay silent before nodding.

“Well to be honest he isn’t wrong.” 

I see House smirk before we get out of the elevator, he hobbles and leads me to his office, locking the door then having me sit down. 

As I sit down in front of his desk, he grabs a ball and starts throwing it against the wall, while sitting down. 

“So are you gonna interview me or something?” 

“Yeah, I’m just waiting for Chase to get back up here so he can watch me interview you.” 

He really is an asshole…it's kinda hot though. 

“Fair enough.” 

We wait a bit before Chase comes jogging up to the door, out of breath, he’s clearly been running plenty. He starts banging on the glass door that House previously locked.

“House!! Y/N! Let me in! This isn’t fair!” He exclaims, House is grinning when he leans over his desk, crossing his arms.

“Okay! Let’s start this interview now.” 

“Y/n! You traitor!” 

Did I abandon my childhood best friend for some disabled doctor? No, I did it for the job. At least that's what I'm telling myself.   

Turning my attention back to House instead of the Australian cry baby outside the door, he asks me, “First question, do you want the job of being my assistant?” 

“Obviously”

“Great! You have the job!” 

I mean, easy enough. I smile and shake my head. This hospital really has some unique people. 

House shakes my hand, grinning as Chase is sitting on the floor defeated outside. 

As the days turned into weeks at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, I got to know everyone. Cuddy had to actually approve of me working as House’s assistant first, but once she saw a…normal enough individual, she welcomed me into the environment.

Getting to know House better, I found myself drawn to him in ways I hadn’t really expected. The bet between House and Chase, Chase thinking I would fall for House, I took it as a joke, until that joke turned more into reality. 

Despite House being a narcissistic piece of shit, there were small moments that I saw, or shared with him that made me fall for him. Ones where he seemed happy, or just easy to be around. At work he's serious but when Wilson dragged him out to bars, or other social environments, he could actually be fun. And though him being a dick is undeniably attractive sometimes, when he was…”himself” that's how I began to fall for him.  

One day, after an especially tough day for the team, and being forced to go break into houses and get coffee and food, I found myself alone with House in his office. The rest of the team had left, leaving us in a rare moment alone with each other. As I glanced up from the medical chart of the most recent patient, I caught House’s gaze lingering on me, his blue eyes intense and unreadable. 

“Something on your mind, House?” I asked, attempting to break the awkward silence between us. 

He smirked, leaning back in his chair with a casual ease, “Oh just wondering why a catch like yourself doesn’t have a boyfriend, or husband?” He responds, his tone laced with flirtatiousness.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at his response, a faint blush on my cheeks. House and I had gained an uncanny camaraderie, made from me running around doing everyone's paperwork, being the designated “you get to tell patients they are dying!!” person. And as you’d expect people didn’t respect me a lot, but if someone was blatantly mean to me, House would step in and destroy their self esteem in a second and walk away like it meant nothing. That's another thing that I think made me fall for him. 

“Believe me, I’ve been asking myself that a lot too.” I smile, placing the medical chart on his desk. 

“Do you want a boyfriend? Or girlfriend, or a pet or something.” He quips, his eyes looking like they are reading me, studying my every movement and reaction to what he’s saying, it's flattering and uncomfortable at the same time. 

“A boyfriend would be nice.” I say reassuringly, a laugh escaping me as I shake my head in amusement.

“Alright let's say *hypothetically* I asked you out. *hypothetically* what would your response be?” 

Raising an eyebrow I ask, “Are you trying to go on a date with me?”

“I said hypothetically, now answer the question.” 

A smirk plays on my lips as I roll my eyes in a mock annoyance. 

“Well.” I say, “Hypothetically, I would say yes.” 

“Great, meet me for dinner at (some random fancy place idk u make up a name i'm too lazy to), wear something cute.” 

 With that, he sauntered out of the office, leaving me to think about what just happened. Glancing at the clock, I realized I had just enough time to get ready for our “hypothetical date.” 

The anticipation bubbled within me, standing outside (IDK A RESTAURANT NAME IT), waiting for House to arrive. My heart raced with nervous excitement, unsure what to expect from a…unique…guy like House. I had used all the time I had to work on my outfit, settling for a simple dress (or suit, or just anything you're comfy in :) ). 

As I scanned the busy street, searching for any sign of House, I heard the obnoxiously loud sound of a motorcycle approaching. House rode in, parking his bike before getting off and walking (limping) towards me. My breath caught in my throat as I saw him, he looked impossibly handsome, in a tailored suit that made his rugged charm come out, good god he looked fine. 

“Y/n,” he greeted with a warm smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners in genuine affection. “That outfit makes your ass look nice.” 

I scoff playfully, hitting his arm. “So much for acting like a gentleman, at least you look like one.” 

He chuckled, offering me his arm in a more gentlemanly gesture. “Yeah yeah, shall we?” 

With a nod, I looped my arm through his, savoring the warmth of his touch as we mad our way into the restaurant. The ambiance was elegant and inviting, with a soft candlelight casting a warm glow over the decor. 

As we were seated at a table in a quiet corner of the restaurant, I couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement in my chest. I’m finally going out with House, damn Chase was totally right. 

Throughout the evening, our conversation flowed surprisingly easily between us. I had half expected him to be rude or stuck up, but he seemed actually interested in me, in my life. He was asking questions, laughing and joking with me. Sharing stories of his own, and treating me like an actual human. Honestly it was scaring me a bit, but it was making me fall harder for him. 

House raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. ‘So, tell my Y/N. What’s the most embarrassing thing that's happened to you?” 

I laughed, shaking my head as I thought about the memory. “Well, there was this one time in college-” 

“Let me guess,” House interrupted, a smirk playing on his lips. “It involved copious amounts of alcohol and very questionable decisions?” 

I chuckle and nod in agreement. “You could say that. Long story short, I ended up streaking through the campus fountain at three in the morning. I'm pretty sure Chase might still have a video of it still.”

House raises an eyebrow, an amused laugh coming from him. “I wish I could say I was surprised, oh and also. I am finding that video.” He states, with a determined and mischievous grin. 

The dinner continues and our connection just seems to get stronger, fueled by shared laughter, stories of shit Wilson and him did in college, things Chase and I did in highschool. With each passing moment, I found myself more and more under House’s spell, captivated by the complexity of himself, his character. His gaze, laughter, even his personality. Maybe it was the wine or something, but House was being nice, he had charisma, and was being attractive in general.  

I don’t even realize that we’ve spent almost three hours in the restaurant just talking. I check my phone seeing that it's 9:30 already. We had got and paid the check awhile ago, but had stayed to talk longer. The restaurant closes at 10, and I felt a sudden pang of disappointment that our date was close to being over with. I didn’t want it to end, I was savoring this moment I was having, this seemingly perfect night. 

When the waiter arrived to take our dessert order, I couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment that the evening was drawing to a close. I wasn't ready for it to end—I wanted to savor every moment, to prolong the magic of our time together for as long as possible.

House notices my look of disappointment, “I’m aware how amazing I am, but if its up to me, this won’t be our last date.” 

A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth, my cheeks heating up as I blush. The butterflies in my stomach going absolutely insane. 

So with a quick glance around the restaurant, I rose from my seat, House grabbed my hand as he led me towards the exit. 

Stepping out into the cool night air, I felt a sense of happiness coursing through me. This was it, the beginning of a new relationship, a surprisingly healthy one so far. 

As House’s hand tightened around mine, his touch sent sparks of electricity coursing through my veins. I knew now that maybe Chase knows me better than I know myself, in all fairness he predicted this, but right now I wasn’t afraid to admit this, to admit the undeniable attraction that I had towards Dr Gregory House. 

His touch leaves mine, his hand pulling as we stand in front of the restaurant, close to each other, staring in each other's eyes. I glance at his lips before leaning in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, not sure if he expected it, but I pull back.

“Goodnight House. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that I walk away, to my car. When I get in my car, I look in the mirror, seeing House standing there with a lovestruck grin, one a child would have over some school crush. But it was cute, he was cute. And this was just the beginning of an annoyingly predicated relationship with a Vicodin addicted, asshole, who I suspect has a soft spot for me.

[blufblucake]

Hiiii!!! I absolutely loved your ratchet x reader story! Im such a sucker for ratchet and I’ll take any content I can get of him! By any chance would you be down to do a ratchet x cybertronian reader? If not humans alright, main premise I’m looking for is reader getting injured and ratchets just really worried/fussing a lot over it during readers recovery process, love me some protective/caring ratchet ouuu (you can choose the injury! I’d prefer if it’s more on the worrying/semi-serious side and not just a scrape but I saw your gore line in your rules and I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable!) ((also you choose if the relationships established or if it’s pre/ratchet crushing haha)) love you!

⋆ 𐙚 ̊.𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍

ᴘᴀʀɪɴɢ: Ratchet x GN!Cybertronian!Reader

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Amid the war, Ratchet and you find comfort in each other, sharing late night drives and rare moments of peace. But when a seemingly simple mission turns into a nightmare, the fear of losing you is what drives the medic to speak the truths he’s kept hidden deep within his spark.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: Descriptions of injury, battlefield violence, and emotional themes. But with a happy ending! :)

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3,2k

❝ You're the one that's always running through my day dreams I can only see your face when I close my eyes Can I get a kiss? And can you make it last forever? I said I'm 'bout to go to war I don't know if I'ma see you again ❞

Author’s Notes: Hello everyone! First of all, I want to apologize to you, sweetspark from the asks. It took me a long time to post this because, honestly, it was a bit hard to write this oneshot, and even reading it now, I still feel like it’s not good enough. Still, I really hope you enjoy it! :)

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. 𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓

The Autobot base was quiet at that hour of the night. Most had already retired to recharge, while Bumblebee and Bluestreak patrolled the surrounding area. Maybe one or two were still online, but they kept to themselves, tucked away in the comfort of their quarters. You knew Ratchet would still be in the medbay, fully immersed in some project, always so concerned with the team’s well-being. Sometimes the mech would forget to refuel or recharge, and that’s when you’d step in.

It wasn’t like you two were total strangers before. You’d talked now and then, shared brief interactions, but nothing much beyond that. Just because you were on the same side of the war didn’t mean you were close friends. But things changed when you arrived on Earth. Maybe it was the sudden shift to such a different environment, or the need to make sure everyone was holding up — whatever the reason, you’d grown closer. You started sharing experiences, talking for joors about all kinds of things, driving down empty roads with no destination in mind, simply enjoying each other’s company.

As soon as the medbay door slid open, you stepped inside, and your optics immediately found Ratchet leaning over a workbench, intently studying something you couldn’t quite make out from that distance. With calm steps, you approached the medic and placed a servo gently on his shoulder. Ratchet’s tired optics flicked toward the touch, and when he saw it was just you, he swallowed the complaint that had been forming on the tip of his glossa and replaced it with a genuine smile “Still up this late, doc?” your voice was soft, tinged with concern.

Ratchet offered a small smile and turned to face you, leaning against the bench and crossing his arms over his chassis. As exhausted as he was, seeing you was like a breath of fresh air, a surge of energy stronger than any energon. His blue optics always seemed to shine a little differently when they met yours, like an impulse to get closer, to claim something he wasn’t sure he was allowed to have. “Just finishing something for Optimus. And you? Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“Not when my favorite medic is overloading his processor…” you teased, winking as you extended a servo, revealing a glowing energon cube in your palm. Ratchet’s gaze fell on the cube, and he smiled before taking it and beginning to sip it slowly “How’d you know?” You simply shrugged and leaned back against the bench, using your arms to lift yourself up and sit on it “You’ve got this awful habit of skipping meals and staying online until your frame practically short-circuits.”

The two of you stared ahead, embraced by a comforting silence. That’s how it was with Ratchet, easy. You didn’t have to perform some forced joy or wear a mask of overwhelming bravery. You didn’t need to keep your head held high or pretend you had it all together. Even though you were so different, you got along just fine. “Would you… want to go for a drive?” he asked, a little uncertain, placing the now empty cube on the bench as he moved to stand in front of you. With a wide smile, you reached out a servo, which he gently took in his own to help you down from the bench “You know I love those late night rides with you, Ratch.”

-`♡´-

You drove side by side along the empty, dark road, the wind brushing against your metal frame and slipping easily past thanks to the aerodynamics of your alt mode. You weren’t anywhere near your top speed — you knew Ratchet’s ambulance form could never keep up with your sleek sports model — but these moments with him brought a feeling far better than any race ever could. You cruised together, switching lanes like a synchronized dance, chatting over the private channel you shared “Let’s go to the beach. I want to see the waves,” you said, taking the first left and checking your rearview to see Ratchet following right behind you.

Not long after, you finally caught sight of waves breaking on the horizon. When you arrived at the shore, you both transformed. Without wasting a moment, you walked along the sand until it felt damp beneath your feet, then sat down facing the ocean. The medic mirrored your actions and sat beside you. That beach was already deserted during the daytime, at that hour of the night, it was impossible to find a human soul.

The moon was especially large and bright that night, reflecting on the dark waters of the sea along with millions of stars. The soft waves broke in a calming rhythm, and the sounds of nocturnal animals could be heard wandering nearby. Your optics took in everything with care, and your voice came out in a breath full of emotion “Look at this, Ratchet. It’s all so beautiful, don’t you think?” The mech only took a few seconds to process before replying in a soft tone “Yes… it really is beautiful.”

But when your optics drifted toward Ratchet’s faceplate, you realized he wasn’t looking at the scenery, he was looking at you, his gaze fixed on your frame. You gave a small, shy smile, feeling your faceplate heat up. When he noticed what he was doing, the mech quickly turned his gaze to the sea, his cooling fans suddenly working overtime in an attempt to regulate his temperature, embarrassed at being caught staring. “I mean, the view… The view is really beautiful,” he corrected, clearly flustered.

You just chuckled softly at the medic’s awkwardness and leaned back on your servos, tilting your helm so you could see the sky more clearly. Your optics scanned each star, tracing imaginary lines between them “You know… I miss home. But I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of looking at this. The sky, the moon, the ocean… It’s all so calm and peaceful.”

“Peaceful enough to forget, for a moment, that we’re in the middle of a war,” Ratchet replied quietly, a trace of sorrow woven into his words. For a brief moment, the two of you sat in silence, listening only to the waves. Then you broke it. “Do you think it’ll ever end? That we’ll have peace someday?” When you glanced at the mech beside you, you saw he was staring out toward the horizon, serious, his optical ridges furrowed “I really want to believe it will. But realism and hope rarely walk hand in hand.” the dry laugh that escaped him held no humor.

“Even so, you keep fighting…” Ratchet looked back at you, and the hard expression on his faceplate softened “Because there are still things worth fighting for.” A quiet moment passed as you looked at each other with a kind of tenderness, as if you both wanted to close the distance between you, but neither of you had the courage to do so. “What is it?” you asked, noticing that, even after all that time, he was still watching you “I was just thinking… how rare moments like this are, moments of peace in the middle of chaos.”

Ratchet turned his gaze forward again, the faintest smile playing on his dermas. You nodded and followed his eyes back to the ocean “Have you ever thought about what you’d do if it all ended tomorrow? The war, I mean.” He paused, thoughtful, and inhaled “I don’t know. Medics don’t usually plan for happy endings. We just do our job and hope for survival.”

Your attention returned to him, and you scooted a little closer in the sand. One of your servos reached for his, gently holding it and absentmindedly playing with his digits. Your voice came out almost in a whisper “But you deserve a happy ending, Ratchet…” you tilted your helm until your cheek rested on his shoulder “So do you,” he answered simply, his voice thick with something you couldn’t quite name.

-`♡´-

The next morning was calm, as usual. The blue sky was completely clear, the sun shone brightly, and it seemed like it would be a routine mission. Wheeljack had detected a few energy pulses in a neutral zone, and after investigation, confirmed it was nothing dangerous. It was supposed to be a simple job: track and identify the object, gather some readings, load it up, and bring it back to base for thorough analysis. Optimus had assigned Hound and you to the mission.

You were both familiar with the route, having traveled it many times before, and so your conversation over the comms was relaxed and light-hearted, with the Autobot engineer chiming in now and then to give short instructions. Once you arrived at the coordinates, you transformed and immediately spotted the object “I’ll grab it. You check the perimeter for anything else,” you said calmly, stepping toward the strange artifact. It wasn’t very large, barely reaching your knee, and had a hexagonal shape. You knelt and began scanning it, receiving nearly the same results Wheeljack had given you “Prime, the artifact seems stable. We’re ready to collect and return to base-”

Your voice was cut off by a violent explosion that launched you backward, slamming you into a wall of jagged rock that pierced and scratched the metal along your back plate. You hit the ground hard, and everything spun. Your optics couldn’t focus, everything was blurry and doubled. In the distance, you barely made out Hound’s silhouette rushing toward you, but he was intercepted by something that struck him with brutal force. Internal alarms blared across your systems, warning of significant damage, but you forced yourself up, trying to help your friend who was now fighting off a Decepticon.

Before you could reach Hound, a blow knocked you down again. Without warning, you felt your attacker grab your door wings and rip them off in one swift, brutal motion. You bit back a scream of pain and tried to turn to see who had attacked you, but before you could, a powerful kick struck the side of your faceplate. Then he grabbed you by the throat and lifted you until you were optics level with him, revealing himself. Brawl. The brute usually processed one thought per joor, but when it came to you, he seemed to gain a twisted focus. The Combaticon squeezed your throat, and you felt your frame begin to give under the pressure, your systems flashing critical damage alerts. The first explosion had already taken out a major portion of your internal mechanisms.

Acting on instinct, you managed to pull your weapon and fire a shot at him, forcing him to drop you and giving you a precious few seconds to gain some distance. The blast had fried your cooling system, and your body was rapidly overheating. A cowardly attack. An ambush. You knew it was only a matter of time before your body would shut down and force you into stasis mode. In the distance, you could see Hound still engaged in battle with another Combaticon, but unlike you, he seemed to be gaining the upper hand. Your comm system had also taken damage, and it took everything you had to make out Ratchet’s broken voice over the channel “Talk… to me… What’s…”

You blocked another of Brawl’s strikes with great effort and tried to respond. “Ratchet, it’s a trap, an ambush, we need-” Another explosion. Silence. You felt your frame give out, collapsing to the ground as everything around you faded into darkness. And then, nothing.

Hound had called for backup some time ago, so he wasn’t surprised when the two Combaticons retreated upon spotting the other Autobots arriving in the distance. He immediately ran toward your fallen body, optics wide at the state Brawl had left you in. He wasn’t a medic, he had no idea what to do in a situation like this. All he could do was hold one of your servos until the rest of the team reached them. Ratchet was the first to approach, followed by First Aid. Hound knew the medic had a certain fondness for you and didn’t want him to see you like this, but he also knew your condition was critical, and only Ratchet could help.

Ratchet was in complete shock at the sight before his optics. He couldn’t believe what had been done to you. Your door wings, ripped off and crumpled, were lying in a corner not far from your frame. Your right arm was nearly completely detached, connected to your torso by only a few weak wires and cables. Severe damage to your spark chamber was visible, leaving your spark nearly exposed. The optics that always lit up brightly when they saw him were now dim, lifeless. Ratchet knew you hadn’t gone offline yet, but there was no time to waste “We’re going back to base. Now!”

And so it was done. The team transported you back to base in record time, working together as a task force to stabilize you. As soon as they arrived, Ratchet sprang into action, taking the lead and delegating tasks in the medbay. The surgery would be long and delicate, and even though his spark was tight in his chassis with worry, he was the only one capable of ensuring your survival. First Aid remained by the medical berth, assisting Ratchet, his gaze flickering between your motionless frame and the flurry of activity around him “We can stabilize them with-” the young mech began softly, only to be cut off by Ratchet’s near-growl “I know exactly what to do! Go bother another patient, Aid!”

First Aid fell silent and nodded, understanding his mentor’s stress. The surgery took so long that, by the end, Ratchet nearly collapsed. He hadn’t taken a single break, not even to refuel. You were finally stable, but had to be kept in stasis so your body could recover. Still, he worried about your spark. The explosions and attacks had left it dangerously unstable — not extinguished, but enough to make him paranoid.

He refused to leave your side, sitting by your berth the entire time, reading and rereading every report on your recovery, alert to the smallest sound or change. Quietly, Wheeljack entered the medbay, approaching with a scanner in hand “Ratch, Optimus asked me to switch places with you. You need to rest, my friend…” Ratchet looked him up and down, then stopped him with a single gesture “Take one more step with that thing and I’ll shove it up your aft.”

Defeated, Wheeljack raised his servos and turned to leave, running into Optimus in the hallway “Prime, it’s no use. He’s not leaving,” the leader nodded solemnly, his gaze settling on the closed medbay door “I’m worried about him. He doesn’t recharge, doesn’t refuel… At this rate, when they wakes up, he’ll be the one offline.” Optimus pondered his friend’s words, then gently patted his shoulder “Let’s give him time.”

Days passed, and you still hadn’t woken up. Ratchet only left your side when absolutely necessary or when Optimus forced him to rest. Otherwise, he refused every request and delegated responsibilities to others. It was nighttime, and, as always, Ratchet sat by your side, carefully admiring every detail of your face. He felt guilty about what had happened. Even though everyone said it wasn’t his fault, he still believed it was his duty to protect you. And he had failed. In the end, the two of you weren’t anything, just friends, but who was he kidding? It was obvious how in love the medic was with you.

Everyone at the base had noticed. The way he looked at you, the way he spoke about you, how his optics always sought you out in a crowd. He wanted to confess, to say everything he felt, to put into words just how special you were to him… but he never had the courage. So much time had passed since the beginning of the war. He had seen and done so many things, even if you knew all about them, he still felt unworthy of your love. That’s why he hid behind his gruff demeanor every time emotions came up. But now? Now you were here, unconscious, on a medical berth. He had almost lost you, and the shock made him realize that, if things had gone wrong, you would’ve been gone without ever hearing how he truly felt.

“You have no idea how special you are to me, little speedster…” Ratchet’s voice came out in a near-whisper, the back of his servo gently caressing your faceplate “I don’t even know when it started, I just know that now I can’t live without you. I miss your smile, your bright laugh, your playful way. I miss your mischief and your sweet way of caring for me.” his optics shut as he let his helm rest gently against yours “I miss our night rides and long talks. I miss you. I can’t lose you. You’re not just another patient… You’re my best friend. You’re… you’re the love of my life. I was so afraid to say it, but seeing you lying here made me realize that my biggest fear is losing you. I love you, and I want to say that to you again, when you’re online…”

You could hear the quiet hum of the mech’s cooling fans, his engine softly purring. Ratchet remained still, optics shut, whispering sweet words he might never have the courage to speak again in front of anyone. Until he felt your servo on his helm and your digits gently stroke his faceplate. The medic’s optics snapped open as he pulled back, stunned to see your bright optics staring right back at him “You!”

A genuine laugh escaped your dermas, and you had to resist the urge to leap up and hug him right then “I heard you, Ratch…” your voice was sweet and playful, still a bit raspy from disuse. “You… heard what, exactly?” You almost rolled your optics at his failed attempt to play it cool. When he tried to step back, you quickly grabbed his arm and gently pulled him toward you, asking him to lean in. Carefully, Ratchet did, allowing your digits to trace his faceplate “Everything. I never thought you’d say it.”

The mech looked like he wanted to disappear, but instead, he gave you a shy smile. “I love you too, my grumpy medic. Now come here!” your servos grabbed his faceplate and pulled him in, your dermas meeting his in a slow kiss, overflowing with feelings repressed for far too long. Your glossa requested entry, which he granted without hesitation, allowing you to lead the kiss however you wanted. You explored every inch of Ratchet’s intake, savoring him like the finest energon ever offered. He was yours, and you were his. There was no doubt anymore.

Author’s Notes: I hope you enjoyed reading! If you find any mistakes, please feel free to let me know. English isn’t my first language, and I truly appreciate being corrected so I can improve. Also, just a quick heads-up. I’m super sick right now, taking four different meds every eight hours (as soon as the weather gets cold, my body decides to throw a tantrum), so it might take me a bit longer to post updates! xoxo ☆

[maximwtf]

can I request an animagus!reader x platonic!Newt Scamander where the reader has just become an animagus, and Newt finds them in their animagus form (maybe a lynx or kneazle) and takes them in? He doesn’t know it’s the reader and the reader stays in animagus form to see what happens and mess with Newt

Platonic! Newt Sacamander  x Animagus! Reader

Words: 2350

Google docs pages: 4

Warnings: None, I believe

Opening: The reader is a new kneazle animagus who gets found by Newt on accident. The reader recognizes Newt from some time ago, but decides against changing forms to see how far they could go before Newt would realise who the creature truly was. 

AN// Any pronouns for reader! Haha, I didn’t even realise how much I missed writing for this man. Thank you for the request, I hope it's to your liking. (Oh, and thank you for the other requests I’ve also gotten, I’ll get to those as soon as I can! ^^)

                                  “Are you lost?”

You hadn't meant to change forms now, but after completing some…unofficial work as some might call it, you had to make sure no one was after you and it just kind of happened. Not that you hadn’t been trying to turn for the first time, you had been but without any success. There wasn’t much time to get used to the form, but you knew enough about magical creatures to pinpoint what your form might have been. It also turned out your new form was a great getaway, especially from places where there were kneazles roaming around anyway. No one would pay no mind to your escape. 

Only, while checking that no one was after you, a man passing by noticed you. You being too busy frantically looking around caused you to not notice him though. This allowed him to get rather close, but far enough to not be able to touch you. The surprise of a wizard staring at you caught you off guard, and as much as you’d hate to admit it, a hiss left your muzzle. Your movements, as far as you knew, weren't too graceful either, most likely resembling an injured animal rather than a kneazle used for guarding. The man took a respectful step back, kneeling down to your level. You stared back at him with a fierce expression, trying your best to scare him away. Surely, like most people, he knew that the kneazles around here were used as guardians. For all he knew, he could have gotten attacked by you, not that you’d do that to him of course. Your speckled fur rose up, big ears pinning back as you showed your sharp teeth to him. The man didn’t seem afraid, even more oddly…he seemed to try and relax even more. At this point, you knew that even a real kneazle would have come to the conclusion that this man was to be trusted, but you were no house pet. You didn’t need to be taken back to your home, you didn’t even live here. No matter how kind this man was. But he did seem insistent on trying to get your trust, for whatever reason that may have been for. 

Newt offered out his hand. The kneazle seemed more scared to him rather than trying to chase him away. This kept him persistent on trying again, thinking that the creature might have been hurt for the way it was moving. “Did you get lost? You’re quite far from home, if you did.” He smiled, keeping his hand out before his eyes lit up. “Would you like a treat?” He kept speaking in a calm tone, not wishing to scare you.

It was when he had begun to speak that the realisation had hit you. The wizard trying to get you to come to him was someone who you had met briefly before. Newt Scamander, you remember his name being. That must have been why he seemed so calm around you, ignoring any warning signs that you had given him. It now felt like he knew how to handle your form better than you yourself. Embarrassing, but thankfully you’d never have to admit that to him…

The realisation must have calmed the way you looked, and the wizard had taken that as a ‘yes’ to his offer. You watched as Newt opened the briefcase he always carried with him, putting it against a corner of a house. The place was so far on the edge of the living area, no one ever came there. Except for you and him it seemed.

 Keeping your eyes on the man, you saw him climb into the briefcase, soon a hand poking out as if the wizard was inviting you to join him. Reluctantly you took a couple of steps closer, looking down into the briefcase. It seemed like a house, not even a small one that was. At the bottom of the ladder you saw Newt again, he was holding a piece of meat in his hand which he showed to you and then placed down on a table, coming back to the end of the ladder. He held out his arms, asking for you to come down. He did still believe you had just gotten lost, but perhaps you could have some fun before ultimately you’d have to reveal yourself to him. Before that though, you’d have to figure out how to turn back…

With that, you stepped down and allowed Newt to catch you. You looked around the briefcase as the wizard set you down and held out the treat yet again, lowering it to you. The thought of eating in your animagus form almost made you recoil but if that was what had to be done in order for your plan to work, you’d do it. You took the rather small piece of meat from him, munching it away while he leaned on a table. When your eyes travelled back to him, he seemed to be thinking.

 Thinking of what to do with you now. It was getting quite late, and he didn’t want to bother the residents at night by knocking on their doors, asking if someone had lost their kneazle. Which meant he’d either have to let you wander the night alone or keep you in the briefcase until the sun rose up again. Which of he chose the latter, of course. “Right, I suppose you’re going to have to stay with me. It’s okay, we’ll find your home tomorrow.” He smiled with the same gentle smile you had seen before and reached down to you. Newt waited for you to sniff his hand, as if letting you recheck if you trusted him before he allowed himself to pet your head briefly. 

A gush of air hit your face as Newt pushed himself away from the table, and walked to the kitchen, continuing on to a place in the ‘house’ that you had heard animalistic noises from, your heightened senses allowing you to smell other creatures in that area. With cautious steps you followed along, watching as he fed the other creatures. You knew he was well informed on magical creatures, and it showed. All the creatures had their own assigned habitats, and Newt seemed to know exactly how much and what to feed them. Heck, as far as you knew he was treating you like you had read all kneazles should be treated. It rather warmed your heart to see him care for the creatures so deeply, even if some may have claimed them as dangerous and as something to never go near. 

Though, the feeding meant that you had time to explore without his attention being on you. Your paws turned, trotting back to the kitchen area where after some thinking you decided to jump on the counter. It wasn’t a graceful jump, and as much as you’d hate to admit it, you did have to drag yourself up to be able to fully stand up. While walking to the other side of it, you made note of what had been on it. As you were about to jump down the sound of footsteps on the wooden floor almost echoed in your ears before you could cast a look towards the man. He seemed almost just as surprised to see you on the counter, a playful smile on his face as he got closer. “Be careful, I haven’t yet checked you for injuries!” You jumped down, running away but not far enough to not hear him. “Hm, were you looking for food as well?” Newt’s voice spoke again as he made sure that nothing on the counter was broken. “Come on then, you’ll get some too.” He hummed, seemingly happy to have a visitor. 

You had made your way to where the habitats were, eyes wide as your much smaller form marched past huge creatures, some you had never even seen before. While in your thoughts something had managed to sneak up on you, tugging your tail for a few times. A rather rough hiss came from you while turning around, finding a small, almost blue-ish creature sitting behind you. As soon as it saw the opportunity, which was the clear confusion on your face, it scattered away. Your gaze followed it run and get picked up by Newt. The expression on his face looked as if even without seeing he knew the creature must have met you. “You met Teddy, then?” The creature named ‘Teddy’ climbed onto his shoulder, not keeping it safe for much longer as Newt picked you up as well, carrying you as he walked. 

You didn’t look, but you felt his eyes on you every now and then. As if he was thinking about something, making notes of your behaviour. 

The wizard had heard the rather odd hiss coming from you earlier. He had his doubts about you, thinking that maybe you lacked some of the high intelligence the kneazle usually had or perhaps it was something else making him suspicious of you…or perhaps you were just injured. Either way, he set you down, you only now noticing he had brought you back into the kitchen. “Be careful around the habitats, better not get too close when they’re eating you see.” He spoke to your animagus form, as if you’d understand. Of course you did, but he didn’t know that. 

A bowl was placed on the ground, slightly under the table so he wouldn’t accidentally step on it or kick it while walking by. “There you go.” Another smile. While sniffing the food, you could feel his eyes examine your form, but he couldn’t find any signs of bruises or injuries.  With that he retreated himself to his room, and as if no time had passed the sounds of writing began to chime from behind the curtain he seemed to use as a door. 

You were not eating again. Not in this form at least. Though, you were getting thirsty but there was absolutely no way you’d be able to turn on the faucet without him noticing. So it became a waiting game. Waiting until he’d fall asleep and you could figure out how to turn back to your human form. 

Eventually the waiting paid off. The noises of writing and pages being turned stopped and you could have sworn you heard the bed sheets move as he settled down. Some of the creatures had calmed down as well it seemed, even better for you. 

With a couple of careful glances to your sides and a long sigh, you sat down and closed your eyes. What felt like hours of concentrating worked, you were back to your human form. It felt oddly nice to be standing on two legs, to be able to reach the countertop without having to jump on top of it. Though, the first couple of steps you took were clumsy. 

You opened some of the cabinets and soon found a glass which you filled with water a couple of times and drank. To your fortune and maybe to Newt's misfortune he had left some bread on the counter as well, a night snack for you. 

While working on preparing some food for yourself, someone had woken up. He was staring at you from the corner of his bedroom and it didn’t take long until you could feel eyes on your back. Assuming it was either the ‘Teddy’ creature or one of the free roaming bird-like ones, you turned around calmly only to find Newt staring at you. You froze and it almost felt like time had done the same, but the environment soon warmed up as Newt laughed gently. “I thought there was something odd about the kneazle I rescued.” He walked closer, leaning on the kitchen table. He seemed calm enough on the outside, but you still felt the need to apologise. “I- I’m sorry, Newt. I should probably leave, I know you don’t like-” The stutter mixed ramble was interrupted by Newt putting his hand up. “It’s quite alright. Only a surprise to meet you again like this.” He spoke, a hint of awkwardness in his voice but he seemed to hide it well. “You never told me you were an animagus?” He asked, Newt's voice now filled with interest as he got to bring up the topic of magical creatures once more. “Not necessarily a registered one, so I don’t tend to bring it up…” You grinned a little awkwardly, scratching the back of your neck as you retreated from the countertops and seated yourself around the kitchen table. “Ah, I see. I’m assuming you don’t use the form often then either?” Newt hummed, taking your earlier spot. “ He reached into the cabinets. “O-oh, no. I- This was actually the first time it worked.” You said, knowing your clumsy movements in the form must have seemed odd to Newt. The wizard’s eyes moved back to you, slight worry mixed with interest in his eyes. “Are you feeling alright?” The question slipped from him so suddenly. You blinked a couple of times. “Oh yes, I suppose. Got some getting used to, I suppose.” You tried to smile, only now feeling the exhaustion from the changes. Newt took a moment to say anything. “Would you like some tea? I was coming to make some for myself earlier but..” He smiled. You bit your inner lip in embarrassment, not letting it show. “Sure.”

[bluesunss]

The lovers Choi Su-bong (Thanos ) x F!Reader

summary: fate always has something far different in store for you than you expect. that is what you thought, quite literally, when that one-night stand never left your mind, no matter how hard you tried.

warnings: cursing, age-gap (reader is older, 34, while Su-bong is 28)

a/n: idk what to say haha. i've been sooo busy recently, i've proofread it quite a few times but probably not enough. also we've been handing essays in my mother tongue more so some sentences are probably my mind having a mandela effect and being convinced they exist in both languages.

Su-bong knew he shouldn’t have won. The guy at the bar had given him way too many glasses, and slid between his fingers two pills in exchange of a favor, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

The first time he saw you, was right after this victory. His opponent—JB The Great—was a bald retired rapper who came back on stage for that very battle. He’d heard of him a few times, quite popular among underground rappers trying to rise, a mentor for younger ones (Su-bong also knew that any new rapper that encountered him and had a bit of talent was sure to disappear by the next battle. Nobody knew how, nobody asked).

Su-bong hadn’t worked enough to have deserved his victory. At least, not like JB—who’d been overly active on his Instagram account, sharing pics writing lyrics whether it was in a shady studio, surrounded by grimy-looking socks and opened energy drink—and Su-bong would zoom in to catch a glimpse of the lyrics. Except that fucker would blur them out, and Su-bong knew it was ON PURPOSE to stress him out.

That’s why he cheated. He knew JB took something too—they mostly all did—except he managed to get something stronger, to cheat his way into that stupid victory against the horizontally challenged retired star (JB was huge, not big, not obese, literally huge, yet his stomach was flat. No clue how such thing was possible.)

For another reason, too. JB dated Su-bong’s ex. Su-bong had two exes (among many flings), and did not give enough of a fuck about them. But territoriality being an inherent flaw of man—Su-bong was not fond of JB and needed a way to get back at him. It was mutual (Su-bong did get the girl back for one night and made sure to send a ‘mistake’ pic to JB while she showered).

You were working behind the counter. Your makeup was smudged, your hair was disheveled, and your lips parted—the air of the club had gotten too heavy for you to breath through your nose only. The first thing he’d noticed about you, was the sweat dripping down your forehead, gluing your hair to your temple.

You were not his usual type. Under the dark-bluish light, Your hair appeared shinier—you wore long drop earrings, so thin and clear they looked like delicate glass teardrops, as if tiny rain drops floated above your shoulders on your bare nape.

However, they were the only jewels. No bracelets, no necklace, no loose hair. A low bun, or pony tail—he couldn’t tell from this distance. You seemed uninterested, with no desire to interact whatsoever, but you were concentrated on your task—nodding at orders with a far-away gaze, filling the glasses, making new drinks—so efficiently he believed you were a robot.

The bartender next to you would sometimes nudge your shoulder, whisper something, you would nod again, that mechanical movement he hadn’t realised could be so chilling, before grabbing a new glass, taking another order, repeating the movements infinitely. He found himself wondering—did you ever stop ? Even asking himself whether the club closed at night, forcing you to leave. It seemed obvious, at that instant, that your life was dedicated to this.

Maybe it was this, this instant, the realisation that you were quite like an automated doll—that he realised he wanted a try. To shake you, like your hands shook the drink, chest barely bouncing—that movement his eyes used to trace on other female bartenders. To disrupt your universe.

No, it was as if you were frozen, in another world.

Su-bong hadn’t realised that all this time, he was staring. Sitting on a far-away sofa, elbows propped on the table, eyes never straying away from your figure shadowed by the bar’s counter and human backs. His gaze followed your very movement, drink barely grazing his lips. He, who so usually focused on the liquid that scorched his throat, seemed not to realise the teeth that scraped the glass and the finger that gripped it so tightly, he would realise later his palm was marked red and cramping-up.

And then, you leaned down, disappeared for a moment, and he decided it was the right moment. He slammed the glass on the table and stood up, drunk-dazed. The pills were starting to wear out, he was definitely seeing clearer.

When you got up, towel in your hand starting to wipe the counter, Thanos rehearsed his signature smile.

“Hey, señorita.”

🌧

Such a nosy kid. You stared for a second, blinking in disbelief, as he ordered three shots in a row—setting them down abruptly and ordering more. You’d heard him sing—and his lyrics were kinda shit. You had no clue how people had bought it, The Great whatever initials had better flow, less obvious autotune in real life, better stature. The voice came out his vocal cords fluider.

But that Thanos guy—he had that thing—what was it called ? Charisma ? Swagger ? No, it was something else. A mix of both, a touch of something spicier. He had a great voice, you noticed the ‘sexy’ raspiness in it, as two younger girls sitting there a few minutes ago were whispering, but he had no control over it. He faltered, forgot a lyric (you knew when your younglings improvised—no matter how much they tried to hide it, it was as clear as day).

This guy needed voice training. And to chill on the pills Han-bin, your ‘colleague’ had given him, in exchange of a favor (it being the girl Han-bin wanted, you had no clue how two men had to get involved to pull one lady. They lacked romantic skills that much ?)

You’d also noticed that Thanos guy staring like a creep.

Whenever something like that happened, or any other suspicious behaviour from a random stranger stepping way too close to you, you’d blur your eyes and imagine a faceless thing, as not to get tricked by the face, should it be handsome, and only watch the comportment. Most of the times, it saved you.

And, definitely, that guy had an issue. He had watched your every movement, glass glued to his lips, like a cat awaiting the mouse. So, when he was saying whatever bullshit to you while swallowing in one go shots and shots and shots, you put aside the flirting and decided that your only interaction would be to give him what he ordered.

You needed the job, after getting fired from your studio for being too crictical over someone’s lack of progress in their nasal voice, even after giving them MANY detailed voice trainings to do at home. You knew they hadn't watched shit. But your boss disapproved. You lacked ‘tact’. They lacked talent.

You didn't make a big deal out of it, but you needed money, and you took this job, even if that meant dealing with an immature man in heat. It took more than that to trigger you. But that didn’t mean you weren’t annoyed. You couldn’t listen to other strangers because of his constant nagging—the drinks were starting to get to his brain, and he was uttering bullshit while grabbing your hand.

“M’ladyyy,” he mumbled. “More. Give me more.”

You usually didn’t care about strangers. At least, not enough to worry about their alcohol consumption while in an underground club. But, for a certain reason (your heart was definitely too soft), you felt slight pity along of the annoyance for the laid-out like a towel rapper on the counter.

“Nah. No more for you,” you finally responded.

That was all it took for him to rise, eyes-widened in hope.

“You talk!”

You bit your lip. You shouldn’t have said anything, now, he probably had his hopes up, which was not something you were willing to risk, at least not tonight.

“Calm down kid. You’re getting way too ahead of yourself, and I’m not dealing with a blackout tonight.”

He stared at you, dazed.

“Sexy voice,” he smirked.

You smacked the back of his hand.

“Sexy my ass.”

Grabbing the small glass in front of him, you put it under the counter to wash for later, before coming back in front of him and placing a hand on either side of his head that was buried in his arms, muttering some ‘Minsu Namsu’ bullshit.

“Hey, you should go home,” your voice came out a bit softer. “Do you have someone to call ?”

He didn’t respond, only slightly lifted his head mumbling.

“Girl do I look like I do,” he hiccuped. “Ain’t nobody want the legend over for the night.”

Against your better judgment, a smile tugged at the corner of your lips.

“Sleep and sober up. I’m coming back to throw you out if you’re not gone by 2,” you said.

But you knew you wouldn’t. He placed his head on his forearms, staring.

“Ok, pretty lady. Whatever you say.”

And then, he drifted into slumber.

🌧

It was at least half past two when you closed. You had to kick so many humans out, you weren’t sure if you could stand any more interactions. Hae-bin had ran off with a stranger, and although you were getting irritated by his behaviour, knowing it was mostly to run away from cleaning, you couldn’t afford to complain yet. At least, not until another job was secured. Hae-bin was the manager’s son.

Only one stranger was left. Oh, Thanos, sweet and dearest (if he wasn’t asleep, you would have definitely kicked his ass). Setting down the towel on a table, finally finished, you walked lazily to his stool, stopped right beside him and sat on top of one too.

Then, you paused. Observed him calmly. As you had turned off the multicolored lights, the soft white one allowed you a better look at his disheveled purple hair, or his rosy lips, or his soft cheeks. You could at least give that to the crowd : he had a beautiful face. Still rough, his eyebrows broke the gentleness of his delicate features—thick, arqued enough to give him a sterner look while being focused. His eyelashes rested against his cheeks, casting a shadow on his pale skin.

Your hand rose to brush away a purple strand from his eyes. Younger guys never attracted you. You’d had your fair-share of assholes, you weren’t interested in someone to babysit (anyone younger by a day was enough to be called a kid). He hadn’t even told you his age—you didn’t need it to guess. Late twenties, acting as if youth lasted forever, but an adult at heart.

Suddenly, fingers interlocked with yours, and your hand was brought to warm lips. Looking up, slightly flustered, you saw him staring at you with dark, intense eyes. He held your stare enough to cause you to look away, but his other hand tilted your chin.

“Nah,” he murmured. “Look at me.”

When he was drunk, he definitely acted like a kid. You hadn't expected his voice to come out so mature, so deep when sober. Those youngsters knew how to talk to girls. Shit.

Maybe you needed a break from work. Maybe you needed some attention. Maybe you needed to relax. But your eyes dropped to his lips, and that was enough for him to rise with a smirk. Shoulder to shoulder, his warmth seeped through your black uniform, forearms resting on the counter as his hand left yours to cast away a stray lock of your hair behind your ear.

His finger brushed down softly, following the thread of the earring hovering near your neck.

“They’re beautiful,” he said. 

Then, his eyes stared right into yours. The world stopped spinning. Your heart raced, and suddenly, you were drowning in his eyes. He lost himself in yours too, before, finally, dropping his gaze to your lips. Your eyes did the same. Up, down, up and down again.

Until they didn’t. Your arms snaked up to his neck and pulled him close in an instant. He responded eagerly in less than a second, and suddenly, your lips crashed against his with reckless hunger. He tasted like tequila, something bitter, something better, something absolutely addictive, and you only broke the kiss to get a better look at his face. You always needed to do that—to see whether the man was worth it.

And you found it. A man overcome by desire. Swollen lips from the kiss, flushed face, messy hair, heavy breathing, and desire written all over his face. So, in another movement, you smashed your mouth against his, and he let you, grabbed your hips roughly, lifted you onto the counter as something suddenly fell and shattered, but you were too gone to care, his hands roamed your hips, your thighs, your chest, until they reached your pants and stopped there.

He pulled away just for a second. Enough to take all of you—your low tied hair, your smudged mascara, your little beauty mark. And then, finally, he leaned in again, softer, calmer. “You’re beautiful, m'lady”, he murmured against your lips. You felt him smile against your mouth, before melting on your lips again. No apartment. No worries. No ties. That was the silent promise your skin etched onto the other’s.

🌧

You took a week off work after that night. Why ? You weren’t entirely sure. Bringing a friend along, you decided to travel to Busan and spend a touristic trip exploring a new city of your country. It was fun. Absolutely fun. Swimming, eating, flirting. You even went to the museum of contemporary art, which you hated, to change something. To feel something. But it was nearly impossible to get your mind off him. Off that night. Off what he made you feel. Your entire life, you had believed older men—or at least your age—knew better, knew women, were more mature. But fuck, this stranger, or at least ex-stranger, had shattered your entire beliefs. He knew how to take and give. Where, how, and that in many different ways. How long had it been since a night lasted so long yet so short ?

Staring at your palms, by the beach, you tried to understand something that didn’t make sense, that you couldn’t name. To see if anything had changed. But no, it was still same old-you. Just flustered. And lost.

Your friend screamed at you to get into the water, and you did, gladly so, the waves and the swaying water offered a little reprieve to your growing trouble—and you forgot for a moment about going back to Seoul and facing him—you hoped not—again tomorrow.

🌧

Except you didn’t. Face him. You had gotten ready, without realising it, quicker than usual, yet more meticulously. You weren’t usually excited to work, not that job, at least, but that night, you felt your heart beat erratically in your chest, as you gave the effortless woman-touch to your makeup, just enough to make your face remarkable, too less to strike as different. Because it was the impression you wanted to give : detached yet effortless. And you hated that a man was behind it.

But he didn’t come.

No, as Hae-bin handed you the glasses and you repeated the mechanical movement again and again and again, until you couldn’t anymore, until your fingers slipped and a glass shattered. Hae-bin sneered at you, the manager came and scolded you, but they let it slide. It didn’t happen again, you decided to focus. But the whole night went so slow, you felt as if each second lasted forever.

And it happened again. The next night. And the next. And the next. And the next week. And the next week.

Until you thought you had forgotten him. Almost a month had passed since. You were over it, and your brain was preoccupied with other stuff, your old boss had called you, telling you they needed substitute voice coaches (you knew she hoped to have you again, because her voice had a slight very distinguishable tremor in it—hesitation). Since nothing tied you to that club, you could pack up your things and leave. Hae-bin never liked you anyway, and the customers were merely strangers.

That is why, that Tuesday night, you were planning at the end of your shift to go to the backroom and talk to your manager about your choice to resign. You still had to work, and you decided to give it your best, even smiling at customers, so much so that Hae-bin checked on you with a fake-worried expression ‘are you ok weirdo.’

His hand was still on your forehead when you heard it. That voice.

“Ayyy heyy brooo,” he smacked his hand against Hae-bin's. “Yoo, how was the new stuff? It was my best batch. Want more ?” they chatted a few minutes, as you saw Hae-bin slide something to Thanos under the sleeve of his uniform. Thanos grabbed it, took a necklace out of his shirt, opened a cross and stacked the circular things in it with a low chuckle. “How’s Ha-na? She's a good one ain’t she?”

Hae-bin leaned in, approaching his face from Thanos’s ear and placed his hand around it, to whisper a secret. You heard glimpses of “chick” “top” “crazy” and decided it was too much. Almost throwing the glass to the customer next to them, you didn’t even glance backwards as you went to the bathroom, removing your gloves and throwing them in the garbage on your way. “Fuck this!” You thought. He hadn’t even glanced at you. Acted as if it didn’t matter.

Going inside a stall and locking it, you sat on the closed lid and buried your face in your palms. “Calm down,” you repeated to your mind. “Calm the fuck down. He’s a ONE-night stand. That’s literally why it’s called one night. Because it only lasts one night. No more. No less. Get over yourself. No man should make you feel this bad, and especially not a younger one like this.”

The voice in your head, more mature than you, managed to calm your nerves a little. Breathing a little easier, you decided to get through it, let the silent treatment do its trick. By tomorrow, you’d hopefully be gone, back at the studio. No more Thanos, no more purple-hair, and no more worry. You were looking forward to it.

Unlocking the stall, you opened the door, cursed because it was a pull-door (who even puts a pull door inside a public bathroom. Nobody wants to pull that shit closer), before letting out a scream.

“Thought you’d drowned,” he smirked.

Your brows furrowed immediately, you recollected your emotions. He was leaning cockily against the sink, back barely brushing it, arms crossed and head tilted with a sly smile—as if he could control you with just the way his mouth tugged. Your brain yelled he couldn’t, but your heart had a completely different idea of it, going buck wild in your chest. “I would’ve if I had known you were there,” you retorted. “Move, I need to wash my hands.”

“Nah. You haven't done anything in that stall, didn’t even flush the toilet. I’m not dumb.”

He uncrossed his arms, long cross dangling on his chest as he suddenly stepped closer to you, making you take a step back. “Move,” you repeated. “I don’t want to have to call security.”

He scoffed. “Security ? You ain’t calling no one, m'lady.”

“Don’t call me that.” “My lady.” He was infinitely closer now, your back pressed against a locked stall due to maintenance. ‘When would they fix it?’ You found your mind wandering, running away from this ridiculous situation.

“What do you want ?” You titled up your chin, taking him by surprise. You smiled, even though your lips were quivering. “Another kiss? Or maybe another night? Was one not enough for your greedy ass?”

Eyes slightly widened in surprise, he suddenly let out a soft laugh. “Oh señorita. You almost had me fooled there. But you’re the one needy for another night.”

He pinned you to the closed stall, hand sliding to your upper thigh, stroking the soft skin on the inner side. His mouth brushed against your ear. “See? Your legs are shaking, m'lady. Your body remembers me.” You bit your lip, tried to deny him, to push him away. But then, he stared at you with a sly smile. “Hm ?”

It was all it took. In one movement, your lips met his again, the familiar but oh-so-missed scent of him against your mouth, his breathing got heavier, needier, you weren’t even started that he muttered “Fuck” “missed you so fucking much”.

🌧

After that night, it happened again. And again. And again and again and again, until you lost count. Didn’t matter where, when, how, you don’t know—you hadn’t even quit your job—that he would find a way to get you back under him, against him, near him, so close it always felt earth-shattering.

Sometimes, he’d be giving a show to a loud crowd. You disliked his singing—he knew that—but you loved his raspy voice. And he’d tease you on purpose, singing lower, almost whispering in the mic, getting girls’ knees weak as he stared directly at you, always behind that cursed counter, wiping glasses and filling them repeatedly. He’d sing louder, win or lose battles, and you’d wait patiently for him to finish, to wipe his forehead, to disappear backstage before coming back, buying a drink—it had become a game—the specific drink meant a different meeting spot, should it be his car (Bloody Mary), the bathroom (soju), whiskey neat (backroom). And anytime, it would get messier, sloppier, worse.

Instead of feeling better, you felt worse. It drained you. You didn’t get back to your job, and when you called, they had hired a new girl. Then, Hae-bin noticed you mixing a wrong drink, and you almost gave a customer an allergy-attack by handing him the mango cocktail. Or the other night, when you gave a bottle to an underage kid. It was enough to get you fired. “I’m sorry I really like you girl (lie), but that’s not possible anymore.”

That is how you were (almost) on the street, your landlord hadn’t kicked you out (yet). Except you were too drunk. Drunk of him. You needed him—he became vital. You didn’t care about anything, your life had been passive because of the unnatural need you harboured for him. You’d spend nights at his studio, laying in his lap as he composed new lyrics, pinching your cheek when you corrected his vocal projection or the nasality his voice. “Let me do what I’m good at, and do yours, 'k baby ?” And his hand would be on the back of your head, holding your hair etc. etc.

Thanos didn’t ask many questions about you. Not that he didn’t care, you did see he was intrigued, by the way he sometimes stared a little longer while he smoked, absently looking at your face with gleaming while you talked with passion. Or that time, where you told him in a small voice that you were thirty-four while he was twenty-eight, but he barely shrugged, pulling your head back on his shoulder. Or the way he picked you up when you called, crying, the night you got fired, and brought you home, didn’t even suggest anything, bought you snacks and cuddled you to sleep. He still was nonchalant. Slept immediately after you'd done it, right after tucking your hair behind your ear, kissing your cheek.

It was when he was sleeping, eyelids shut, breathing softly, that you'd wonder what the heck you were doing. You’d remember the first night, ask yourself ‘what if I hadn’t touched his hair ? What if I hadn’t sat next to him?’, thinking about the life you could have had if he hadn’t ruined it, but then, he’d wake up, groggy, grab your waist and tuck you under the blanket with a kiss fierce enough to remind you that you belonged there.

That was enough, for as long as it lasted.

Until it wasn’t anymore.

It was draining. You barely slept, and when you'd wake up, almost living at his studio now, only to find it empty, smelling of smoke and dust. And when he’d come back, it would repeat and repeat and repeat.

It struck you one morning, while watching your favorite comfort show, one of them being the wife of a cheater. ‘I wait for hours in an empty home. I feel like a mistress while I should be a wife.’ And that struck home. Well, you weren’t delusional enough to believe he’d ever make you a wife—you didn’t even want a relationship this unstable with someone. But anything, not even a label, just a certainty that, when he’d come back home, it wouldn’t be by surprise, that you would know when he would go out or when he would come back, that he would text you more than randomly 'are you ok’ once during the day or even call you. You hoped for a bit of attention—a glance from a man so distant, starting to treat you like an old rag.

That was when the real distance began. The first gone were the texts. No more ‘what did you eat ?’ or ‘take-out tonight, choose fried chicken or tteoboki.’ Then, the kisses. No more ‘good morning’ stolen on your lips. No more ‘goodnight’. Not even the cheek 'sleep well’ after you'd done it. He’d take what he wanted, slowly, quietly, the passion was gone, just mechanical, until there was nothing left anymore, until he stopped looking at your clear drop earrings with admiration, telling you to wear them for the night, until he just stopped, and the distance became physical too. And one night, he’d just throw words with an annoyed undertone. “You did nothing again today?” or “Is that a wrinkle? Oh just a hair nevermind.” It seemed as though, he was working to annoy you on purpose. To get you to leave so he wouldn’t have to kick you out.

That is why you decided to leave, one morning, right when the door slammed. He was sweeter than usual, this morning. Smiled before brushing his teeth, said hi. And it was exactly why you wanted to leave. It was unbearable to realise, one day a month, you would get some acknowledgement, and even worse, it would make your heart beat again, get your hopes up, and make your forgive all his past mistakes on the spot.

You had already planned it, collecting the scattered make-up across the apartment. You hadn’t even put on a show as you usually did, cleaning the apartment or cooking out of boredom. No. It was strictly the silence and you, and the sunlight barely filtering through the closed shutters. You let out an annoyed sigh, walked to the window and abruptly opened them, almost ripping the handle off, as you swiftly raised the shutters. “This guy can’t even take care of himself,” you muttered to yourself.

And as the sun bathed the room, the clean air invaded the apartment, you suddenly got hit by a realisation. In this haunting silence, you felt it : the loneliness, the illusion, the perfect-bubble carefully crafted of a life that neither of you wanted. You were a roommate unannounced, and he was the kind stranger that took you in. Nothing more, nothing less. So, instead of breaking down, you walked to your makeup bag, put everything inside, zipped it shut, and took your few clothes, your toothbrush, and your dignity.

Maybe it was because none of you had dared to say it. You, because you were stubborn. He, because he was scared. Maybe those three words would have helped you hold on to something. But you were stuck between maybe and almost, and life was too short for uncertainty.

You hoped never to hear from Thanos ever again, so that your heart could take some time to heal. No note left, only leftovers in his fridge, and a clean parquet. You hoped he’d regret you for a bit, before moving on.

This was life. You were used to it.

🌧

Rebuilding your life was difficult. There was no way you’d beg Hae-bin for another chance, and your boss refused to hire you again. That is why, you decided to open an Instagram account to coach people hoping to get better at singing—or just taking control of their voice, mastering it. Getting views was difficult, and your content was very niche. Plus, it was embarrassing to just put a camera, stare at it, and then repeat AAH aaaah AAH aah to an imaginary audience, look at it to edit while physically cringing, posting it, and wallow in the waiting of the twelve likes that usually followed your posts, or that one regular commenter ‘so cool' (happy emoji) or the less regular ones ‘open your mouth wider’. It was quite embarrassing, and you made sure to block the rap star—mostly because you didn't want him to see you, and secondly, well, because he was so active, posting daily, or being spotted with a new star, that you wanted to shield your heart and your peace.

Except, one morning, you woke up to a hundreds new followers. Heart beating, you wondered whether you had posted something (…) by mistake, until you realised you that thgreatJB had reposted on his 12.4K page one of your videos, saying ‘check her out’.

Afterwards, it was a blur. The followers kept coming in, the DMs, the young teenagers wanting to become idols DM’ing you for advice, or even some older people with a reasonable amount of following asking for private coaching. You started to make money again, your life was getting better. You could go out again without feeling as if people were staring with judging eyes, you could smile without your heart feeling heavy. You started wearing makeup again, you went back to the salon, got your nails and your lashes done, and, slowly, you felt as if you were reviving.

Almost three months had passed, you were a new woman, reborn. People would flood your comments ‘you’re glowing recently girl!’ or ‘im not the only who sees it right’ and other people agreeing in the comments that you were quite beautiful, on top of a great voice. That was the boost you needed. You expanded your page, stopped replying to needy DMs who wanted advice but refused to pay a cent, that you used to take out of good will, opened a paid coaching service, your account gained more and more traction, your name got popular, agencies would call you, your boss even apologised for the way she treated you and asked you to come back. Life was treating you well. And you treated yourself well too.

But well.

It got boring, after a while. You were single and childless—no tuitions, hobbies to worry about paying, the bills were always settled, the rent paid in advance, you even started tipping. You didn’t buy much groceries.

You lived alone.

You were alone.

Your friends had gotten slightly opportunistic and you dropped them—you were at the age were bullshit was not needed. And there was, in your heart, this gap, unfulfilled. This small crevice that let everything pass through you like air. Like a gush of wind, so weak it barely shook you.

You missed him. Of all things that had happened in your life, of the hole he had dragged you down into, of the weird things he had made you try and the visions they made you see, a spark had been ignited, so ready to be alive. You had felt it. The way he made you feel there. Real. Out of your mechanical existence. It was so repetitive. So fake. You weren’t even alright with it, you didn’t like it.

And you hated feeling this way.

Opening the drawer near your bed, you found an old ring. Your ex-fiancé. He was a sweet guy. A bit worrying around the edges, and he had gotten slightly too lazy about life, expecting without giving, so you decided he wasn’t worth the headache. You did feel something when he propped down on one knee and opened the small black box, and you saw the gleaming ring. You said yes because you wanted to feel something. You let him slide the ring on your finger, let him kiss you. Even if you disliked silver. Because you wanted to feel something. To feel alive.

Absentmindedly, you slid it onto your ring finger, staring at your hand. You got lost in your thoughts, and before you could take it off, your phone dinged. Curious, you grabbed it, looked at the screen. A new DM asking for vocal training. Even the adrenaline of the popularity had worn-off. You slouched on your bed and accepted the DM. ‘700,000 won if you come tonight. Sorry if it’s too late, my audition is soon and I want to find someone quickly.’

Coming tonight? Well. That sounded intriguing. Routine-breaking. You told the stranger it was alright for you, he gave you an address and told you to wait outside the place. Even if that seemed slightly dangerous, you wanted some rush. You accepted.

Later that night, you changed your clothes, put light makeup. Your eyes fell on the white pair of earrings. Your fingers hovered above the desk, but you resigned last minute and went outside, carefully locking the door. You tipped the doorman—even if life had changed, you didn’t change your apartment, and felt the cool night air hit your face.

You walked quietly through the busy streets of Seoul. It was great. A start, at least. When your legs carried you between a sea of people and shoulders, you could forget for a minute. After half-an-hour, you saw the spot. He had said ‘under the lamppost’. You were worried it would be shady, but it was quite clean, and some people were chatting outside or smoking with lively voices. It seemed safe. You found the tallest lamppost ('with a deflated red balloon tied to it, nobody removed it since years', he had texted), and quietly leaned against it, scrolling absentmindedly as you waited.

You heard rustling, and suddenly, a familiar scent struck your face with such intensity, you suddenly spiraled back to that first night at the bar. Your heart beat erratically, you put a hand on your chest to calm it down, refusing to look up, hoping he was just a passerby.

Except his shadow stopped right before you. The familiar sneakers. A hand resting above your head, as he leaned in dangerously close. “Hey, señorita.”

🌧

“What brings you here?” You asked, staring at the brownish drink swirling between your palms. “Same as you. Vocal training. Except you’re the trainer, and I’m the student.” His voice was still as smooth. Still as silky. Still as deep. It struck exactly where it had all those months. All your body vibrated. “So you created a fake account.” “Nah we’re not putting this on me m’lady. You’re the one who left like a coward.”

You did not take a sip, tapping your fingers on the glass. His head was resting in his palm, slowly rotating his glass while staring at you. When you finally lifted your head to meet his eyes, his lips tugged into a half-smile. “Well hello there. Missed those eyes.” You bit your lip. “You still talk too much.” He shook his head. “Nah, you too little. For a vocal cord trainer, you’re an awfully silent expert.”

That brought a small smile to your lips. You finally took a sip. It burned your throat, and you stifled a cough. “Coach doesn’t play.”

He didn’t respond immediately, observed you intently, eyes piercing a hole through your skin. “Oh yeah?” Then, silently, his hand went to your cheek. You stopped playing with your drink, paused too. Lifted your gaze and met his. Way longer than you should. “Yeah,” you whispered. He kept watching you, nodded slightly, an instinct. “Coach was quite loud when I got her to be,” he suddenly said. Your face burnt red. “That’s the past.”

His cold eyes held yours an instant before looking at his glass again. His quietness was unsettling. As if he was putting an act. You felt like, he was ready to shatter the glass in his palms, knuckles white because of how hard he was gripping it. And his eyes, who used to be warm, well, not before you left, were cold. A different cold. A chilling cold. As if something way scarier was brewing under those distant eyes. Something terrifying.

“Oh I see,” he chuckled a low, far-away chuckle, pointing his cheek toward your naked ears, then your ring finger. You widened your eyes. “That…” “I don’t care, señorita.” He smiled without his eyes. Shit. Your heart froze. The smile was from another galaxy. This guy wasn’t with you right now. He despised you. A shiver ran through your spine. “I’m… I’ll go to the bathroom.” Getting up, you grabbed your purse, but his hand suddenly gripped your wrist so tightly, you felt his fingers mold your skin. “Did I say soju?” he said in an ironic tone.

You froze. “We’re not doing this.” “Fuck yes we are.” You were talking without looking at his face, your right side facing him. “No.” “I’m not playing with you girl.” “What do you want.” He got up, slammed his fist on the counter so hard, the drink spilled. A bartender said something, but Thanos glared so hard he ran away. “The fuck I want? Since when do you give a shit what I want, huh?!” His voice was rising. You clutched your purse unsteadily, noticing how dark the bar was, how it smelled so rotting, how hot it was. “Don’t fucking start this,” you said. “Look at me,” he ordered. “Let go of me.” “Look at me.” “No let go of-“ “LOOK AT ME, FOR FUCK’S SAKE! IS THAT TOO DIFFICULT?”

Immediately, you turned around, pressing your purse to his chest. “Calm down!” You said in a quiet tone. “Thanos this is not-“. He yanked the purse from your hand and grabbed your wrist, walking in long strides, before slamming the door to a backroom shut. “You ain't fucking leaving, coward,” he spat. The last word came like a knife, split your skin apart. “Don’t call me that,” you threatened. “I’m older than you.” “Older?! So fucking mature! Running away from your feelings is the only fucking thing adults are good at!”

You felt yourself stumble on something but caught yourself back on a messy desk. Realising what room you were in, you took it all in, the scattered papers, the opened cans, the dusty boxes, the ground littered with cardboard and unidentified objects, the dim flickering light. You could barely stand, let alone two people. “You’re an adult too! Don’t take this tone with me,” you muttered. “Oh I’m an adult now? You choose when I fucking am or not?” “I don’t choose shit! I reflect on your comportment. You wake up and tell me ‘one more wrinkle’ or ‘someone’s lazy today’, as if I’m your fucking wife that you forgot at home!”

In frustration, you grabbed a nearby pencil and pointed at him. “No, not even your wife, a mistress!” His eyes were quivering, irises surrounded by a black orbit. “Don’t give me this bullshit. You’re as faulty as me, if not worse. You come to my place, eat my damn food and what do I get in return? You fucking leaving without as much as a word goodbye. You do realise how I should be feeling, no? Don’t blame me for not hugging you and being fucking nice right now!” “Oh so having me was nothing? Sleeping with you every night was nothing? Even to a mistress, you wouldn’t say that!” your voice broke.

His eyes stayed hard, his anger dominating his emotions. “Stop this mistress bullshit! You weren’t my mistress!” “EXACTLY! It’s exactly that! I was NOTHING. Nothing to you!” You shouted back, pen still pointing toward him. He stepped toward you and flicked your palm, sending the pen flying. “You’re twisting the conversation! Stop fucking lying and face yourself!” “Face what! There’s nothing to face! Now let me OUT!” You pushed him away, hands pressing his chest and strode to the door. As you grabbed the handle, you kept insulting him. “You killed this! You stopped caring about me. We never gave this a name, so you don’t have the right to get mad at me.” The door wasn’t budging. You tried again, but it stayed frozen. “Fuck and now we’re stuck! Thanks to you! Perfect!” You threw your hands in a powerless motion. “Let us out!” He shook his head, still silent. “No.”

“What the heck is wrong with you. I don’t get it. You bring me here, only to fight with me. Is it an ego thing? Because I left? Get over it!” He rose his head, back against the messy desk and palms resting on the counter. “You don’t get shit, do you?!” “Not if you don’t explain!” “Aren’t you the most mature, you should fucking know!” That’s when you punched the drawer beside you. “Go to hell, Su-bong! You’re just an entitled piece of shit!”

His anger was so quiet, you felt your heart beat in anticipation of his next reaction. It was terrifying. “Am I?” His voice came in a whisper, a glimmer in his dark eyes that pierced yours. “When everybody at the Underground fucking know who you are, and I learn from a fucking noob that isn’t half my age that his coach is the woman I slept with for months, the only fucking woman I ever gave cared about, and who left me like a piece of shit without even a word goodbye? Who’s the entitled piece of shit?!” “This was bound to end!” You shouted. “I was rotting! I had nothing, nothing anymore, but your body when you gave it to me and a small part of your soul when you dared!”

A flicker of pain passed in his eyes, and his voice came harsh before he could stop it. “I was hurting too! The… the day I fucking saw you, the first time, you worked lifelessly, you were like a robot, and I thought I just… I wanted to see you alive. I don’t know why. I just did. And then…” his voice is shaky. “After some time, you looked at me the same. Empty. I would try to give you something, but your eyes stopped looking at me. You weren’t there! I was with a fucking robot!” “Then give it feelings!” You shouted back. “You treated me like shit!”

Against your volition, your eyes welled up with tears you were not able to stop. Rolling down your cheeks, the first tear came out silently, and you wiped it with the back of your hand. “I’m no saint, Su-bong,” you added. “I have feelings.” “Yeah, for someone else,” he spat. “I’m not falling for your bullshit when you’re… whatever the fuck that is.” Following his gaze, you yanked the ring from your finger. “Oh fuck you! I don’t care about this shit. Take it if you want!” You threw it at him, and he caught it mid-air. He stopped talking for a second.

You stayed in silence for a few minutes, chests heaving loudly. You wiped your tears, heart still aching. “Do you notice something?” Your voice came out more assured than you thought. “Notice what?” “The ring. Look at it.” He spun it in his palm. “No fucking shit. What do you want,” his voice sliced the air. “The ring. Look at it well.”

He paused. Stared at it better. “It’s silver,” he then said. “Tiny diamond. Around 10 grams-“ “I don’t give a fuck about that. Say the first sentence again.” “What?” “The first.” “It’s silver.” “Now think.” He stared, confused and annoyed. “I’m not doing this shit-“ Then, he looked at it again, as if struck by a realisation. “It’s silver. You…” he looked at your wet eyes. “You don’t like silver.”

You nodded. “Exactly.”

He looked at you, confused. “But… what…” “Su-bong, do you think at my big age, and my wrinkly face,” you said as he shamefully looked away, “I would marry a guy that doesn’t know what I like?”

Su-bong crushed the ring in his palm.

“There’s nobody else?” he stared at you with a surprised expression. You shook your head. “Never was. I’ve… I’ve tried forgetting you. I really have. But I can’t. I always came back to this,” you looked up. He was holding his breath, unable to respond. “You really hurt me,” you finally cracked. Your shoulders quaked, and you couldn’t stop the tears anymore. “That was so… so painful…”

Slowly, ever slowly, arms suddenly wrapped around your trembling body, pulling you close, chin resting on the top of your head. “Me too. I’m… I’m so sorry if I ever hurt you,” he finally said. He pulled away for a second, stared at your bright eyes. “Don’t pull this shit again. Don’t run away. I wanted you.” “You didn't make me feel like you did.”

Gently, his fingers left your shoulder, one by one, before he pulled away. “I’m sorry.” “It’s fine.” “It isn’t.” He nodded in promise. “It’ll be.” Then, he opened his palm again, stared at the gleaming ring.

“Can I destroy it?” “Please.” He threw it on the ground and stomped his foot on it. “To hell with that. I don’t fucking want anyone in the way of us anymore,” he declared, suddenly determined. His voice came out more confident than you thought. “Us?” “Yeah. I fucking wasted too much time on this shit. I’m so done fighting.” “What do you mean?”

He breathed heavily, as if you were stupid but he liked you. “What I mean,” he started, stepping closer, “is that I’m done with all this bullshit and this running away. I’m not ready to let someone else have you. I…”

“You don’t have to say it,” you whispered. Your hand rose to meet his, his fingers interlocked with yours. He stared at your eyes for so long, he felt as if the world had stopped spinning for an instant and the universe was on hold. He nodded quietly. He still wasn't ready, but he'd be. “I want to.”

This time, it was him who kissed you first. It used to be you, always. But your salty lips were met with his bitter ones, so sweet against yours, always being there to mold with the other’s, to complete them. “I…” His voice broke as he pulled away. “I really like you.”

It was as if a new world had unfolded before him. His eyes started glimmering again, his heart beat again, his walls came crashing down, and he suddenly let himself fall into the crook of your neck, humming your sweet scent. “Shit, I missed you so much, m'lady. So so much.”

He pulled away, breathless. “I like you so much. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life but this.”

“But why?” you cried softly into his palms, as his thumb worked to brush the teardrops away. “Because. It’s just like this. I can’t explain it.”

“Then why did you push me away?” In his face, you saw frustration, pent-up anger. “I felt things. I don’t like it. I’m not used to it.”

You stared at each other silently. Then, you nodded. “We have time.”

So he kissed you. Longer. Harder. Better.

Like he meant it. “I really like you too,” you murmured against his lips.

And it was enough. At that moment, it was enough, and your heart was whole for the first time since so many years. As long as you would have him, as long as he would have you, then you would be okay.

i hope you will enjoy this!

@breakmeoff

[sweethearts4you]

sick cuddles | l. Williamson x teen!reader

(just pretend youre the dog haha)

summary: you go to training sick, leah takes care of you

(i'm not that good at summaries)

a/n: hi guys!! this is my very first time writing any form of story outside of school, so some feedback and constructive criticism is appreciated! also keep in mind that i don't know anything about pro footballers schedules, so i'm just guessing. english isn't my first language so please keep that in mind <3

1064 words

—----------------------------------------------------------

After snoozing your alarm for the seventh time you finally decided to wake up. It felt like you had woken up from the dead, you had the most dreadful headache ever and your throat was so sore, it felt like there was a literal porcupine inside your throat. You tiredly reached for your phone to check the time, and it read 09.52 “OH SHIT, I'M LATE, LEAH’S GOING TO KILL ME!” you exclaimed, which you quickly regretted once you burst out into a coughing fit.

-

When you first joined Arsenal at 16 years old, it was Leah who first took you under her wing. She let you live with her until you found an apartment you could move into, despite her protests of you being too young to live alone you decided to move. The first four months of you living there Leah always came over to check on you, she would have kept doing it if you hadn't complained about it all the time. She agreed to stop coming over, only if you would call her immediately if something happened.

-

You quickly dressed yourself and made some toast, and ran out the door. It was 10.14 when you finally got to the arsenal training centre. Luckily for you the girls didn't notice you coming in, since they were busy cleaning up breakfast. “Hey y/n! Where have you been? I didn’t see you coming in earlier” Beth asked you once she saw you. “Oh, i was just… sitting over there” you say awkwardly as you waved your hand to a random area. “Weird, anyways..” she said as she started rambling on about Myle and how cute she is. You were honestly not paying attention and just throwing in a random mhm and awe once in a while. You felt someone looking at you, so you looked around a bit, until you saw Leah looking intensely at you as if she was trying to figure something out. 

Leah felt like something was a little off with you, your voice was a little hoarse and you looked a little pale. She made a mental note to keep an eye on you throughout training. Beth was still rambling on about Myle and showing you pictures of her, until Leah came and interrupted “Y/N come on you’re going to be late”,  “Okayy” you sighed. 

You were walking to the pitch with Leah until you abruptly stopped as a wave of dizziness came over you, “Hey, are you alright? What happened? She asked as she put her arm around to steady you. “Yeah, I just suddenly got a little dizzy, but it's alright” you responded. Leah brushed it off, knowing you wouldn't tell her anyways.

-

You were trying to dribble the ball past Katie, until Katie went in for a tackle, which was 100% clean, but since you were sick and a little unstable you fell over onto the grass, face down. “Ey, mate you good?” Katie asked you, “Yea.. just give me second” you groaned. “Hey! What's going on?” You heard Leah yell. “I don’t know!” Katie said defensively. You heard Leah running over, and when she got to you, you felt her bend over and put a hand on your back, “Hey kid, what's wrong? Where does it hurt?” she asked softly, “My head” you whispered in a barely audible voice. “Okay” she said worriedly, she put her hand on your head, “Jesus christ, you're burning up!” she said, sounding quite distressed. She lifted you up from the ground, “Alright good girl, let’s get you inside. Okay?” Leah said softly, as she was basically carrying you, as you were barely able to stand on your own. “Okay” you mumbled, not really paying attention to what she was saying because of how much your head was pounding.

-

“She has a high fever, and is quite dehydrated. She can't train for the rest of the week and she needs lots of rest and make sure she drinks enough water..” the doctor said. “Alright, you hear that bub. Lots of rest and water” she said, while rubbing your back.

By the time you were done at the doctor, training was over. “Y/n/n training is over so i'm going to drive us to mine, okay?” Leah said. “Yeah, okay..” you said tiredly. You were in the backseat while Leah was driving. Every once in a while Leah glanced back to see how you were doing, when she looked back at you she smiled fondly at the sight of you sound asleep leaning against the window. When you made it home you were still asleep so Leah carried you inside deciding that you needed the rest. When you made it inside Leah put you softly down onto the couch, so she could keep an eye on you while she made food.

“Hey sweets wake up, I made your favourite pasta.” she whispered softly, while rubbing your back. “Mmm okay” you mumbled half asleep. After you and Leah finished eating, she took the plates and started washing them. “Thanks for the Le, it actually tasted good” you joked in your hoarse voice, “Ha ha” she said sarcastically, just as you were about to laugh you burst out into a coughing fit. Leah turned around alarmed, “Hey, hey, it's okay” she said comfortingly while she rubbed your back. Once you had settled down, she went to get something. When she came back you saw her carrying a cup of tea, “Here, it's tea for your throat”, “Thanks Leah” you mumbled.

Once you had finished your tea, you yawned and rubbed your eyes, “Let's get you to bed, alright?” Leah said, in which you just hummed in reply. You walked into the bedroom and changed into the clothes Leah lent to you, which was an old Arsenal hoodie and a pair of pyjama shorts. “Le, snuggles please?” you asked shyly when you were done changing, “Alright bub, i'm just going to change then i'll be back” she said chuckling. When she was done changing you both laid down in bed, with you laying against Leah with your head in her crook of her shoulder, and Leah hugging you while tracing aimlessly around your back. Just like you guys used to do after you had a nightmare and came into her room, when you lived together. 

Shortly after you were sound asleep in her arms.

------------------------------------------------------------

hope you guys enjoyed! a comment or some feedback would be greatly appreciated <3

[everettswritings]

Eeeee I just found your blog and holy shit I’m in love with your work!! It’s all so sweet- the perfect stuff to look at after a bad day 🫶😭

If your requests are open- could you please maybe do a fic of Shadow Milk and his little (y/n, agere) having a fun day in the snow? Or whatever the snow equivalent in this world is, I just got into CRK last week so I don’t know haha XD

Maybe the little gets “lost” momentarily and Shadow Milk is ready to tear the kingdom from the inside out looking for them. Thank you!

Of course! Honestly, I do need to get back on the agere game. I love writing tickles, but I also love writing agere alongside it. (Kink/NSFW accounts DNI!)

The air was cold and nippy, the ground was buried underneath pearly white snow, and cookies all around were already putting up Christmas decor. Yup, it was winter alright! You were excited, too, because today you would get to play in the snow. Well, provided that papa would quit fussing over you already.

“Jingle bell, sit still! You need your mittens or you’ll freeze into a giant icicle.” Papa was struggling to put your hands into the mittens he had gotten for you, they were light blue with little snowflakes on the back. You huffed, but sat still and let him finish bundling you up until you resembled a marshmallow more than a cookie. “There we are!” He smiled and kissed your forehead, even though it was covered up by a wooly hat, “Aren’t you as cute as a button? Come on, baby, let’s go play.” He picked you up and carried you outside. You blinked a couple times as you looked at the world outside, everything was coated with a fluffy snow that wasn’t too dry and powdery nor too wet and heavy. It was like looking into a whole new world!

As soon as papa let you go, you took off to explore the wintery wonderland. You squealed and giggled with delight as you grabbed bunches of snow and tossed them up, letting them come back down on you and shaking them off. You then sat down and continued playing with the snow, building little cones and rolling up little balls, or just tossing it around more. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw papa chuckling to himself at your adorable little antics and you giggled even more. You then got up again, looking to do more. However, while you were exploring, papa had turned away for a moment- he was probably checking something or thought he had heard something. You found an even prettier, untouched patch of snow at the side of the house where he couldn’t see you.

He turned around, finally, and gasped with horror. “My baby!” He cried, looking around frantically by the spot where you just were, “Where’s my baby!?” He started checking every little nook and cranny. It felt like his heart was about to leap out of his chest and join the search, too! “Baby! BABY!” He called again, but you were too absorbed in playtime to hear him, “My baby! MY BABY! Where did you go!?” His panic started to visibly rise. What could’ve happened to you!?

You had just now heard his voice calling out for you, but little did you realize there was a patch of ice beneath your feet. You tried waddling back to him, but you slipped and fell over on your back. You started crying loudly, that hurt!

Papa gasped again as he heard you and immediately ran to where the sound was coming from, he turned the corner and almost immediately you were in his arms again. “Oh, my baby! My sweet baby, I’m so glad you’re okay!” He kissed your cheek and gently rubbed your back, cradling you in his arms like he was scared… normally papa never seemed scared of anything. You sniffled, he wiped the tears, “Shh… oh, baby, it’s okay. Papa’s right here.” He comforted. He sighed and stood up with you still in his arms, “You scared me, sweetie. Don’t go running off without me again, okay?” He kissed your cheek again, you nodded. Your tears were all gone now.

You were carried back inside, at least you got to play a little bit. But hey, now papa was going to make you hot cocoa! He continued holding onto you as you both waited for it to get nice and hot, rocking you gently and humming little tunes to keep you entertain. Even if today wasn’t completely outside, it was still a nice day.

End of fic! Sorry if it’s short or not up to par with my other works, I’m still fairly rusty. Have a good one 🫶

[concreteangel92]

Pick A Star

Noah Sebastian x female reader

No warnings for this one, all fluff!!

So I got this idea in my head and I needed to get it out and it’s the perfect Valentine’s Day fic haha (even though I’m not a fan of today 🤣 also it’s not set on Valentine’s Day)

Hope you all enjoy and I’m hoping to get my writing head back on after this as I only have a few requests left to do and then a couple of my own works but my job/life has been so hectic recently that I just haven’t had the energy to write, been jotting down ideas lol but not actually working on much. Hopefully that will change and I’ll get some more updates out soon! 🖤

Permanent Taglist: @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @bloody-spades @lacy1986 @fadingangelwisp @theanarchymuse95 @w0manof-flesh44 @dream-machine-love @thisbicc @amelia-acero @badomensls @fadingintothegrey @tosoundlessdarkistare @ichoosetenderomens @hurricanesfollowyou @concretejunglefm @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @xmads-omensx @chey-h @xxkittenkissesxx @lyschko666 @rumoured-whispers

Let me know if you wish to be added!

Masterlist

You were sitting relaxed in the passenger seat of Noah’s car as you drove, you’d been on one of your regular date nights but tonight Noah had gone all out.

He’d taken you to one of the nicest restaurants in the city, the kind you certainly had to dress up for and the kind of place where the prices made your bank account cry but Noah didn’t care, he wanted to spoil you rotten with no expenses spared.

You’d spent your evening enjoying your delicious dinner over candlelight and soft music playing in the background while chatting about anything and everything.

Once the meal was over, Noah said he had one more surprise for you and here you both were, driving out of the city and into the mountains.

Noah pulled up at a beautiful look out point, the sky was clear and the city lights were sparkling in the distance.

“Oh my god Noah, we haven’t been here in so long!”

Noah smiled and got out of the car before coming round to your side to open the door and offer you his hand.

You took it with a smile and step out into the cool summer night air.

You looked out over the city, Noah came behind you and wrapped his arms around you and rested his head on yours as you watched as the world went by below but for you two, it was like this moment was frozen in time.

“You took me here on our very first date”

You felt his chest vibrate against your back as he chuckled.

“Yeah…I thought it would be nice to come back here tonight”

“It’s beautiful, and it’s such a clear night”

You leaned back against him as you took it all in.

“This is the perfect way to end our evening”

“Not quite yet, I said I had one more surprise…”

You turned your head slightly.

“This isn’t it?”

Noah gently turned you around in his arms and shook his head gently.

“No. Look up at the sky angel”

You give him a slightly confused smile but you looked up and saw thousands upon thousands of stars, all shining and flickering against the dark night sky.

Noah kept his arms around your waist as he looked up with you.

“Pick a star”

You looked back at him, even more confused with a giggle.

“What?”

“Pick a star” he gave you a beautiful smile as he spoke.

“You going to buy me a star babe?” You giggled.

Noah looked at you lovingly and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear that had caught in the breeze.

“I’d buy you every star in the galaxy if I could angel, but right now, pick a star, any one and I’ll find a way to give it to you”

You smiled and looked back up and then pointed to a particularly bright star.

“That one”

Noah followed your finger and hugged you closer as he saw the one you wanted.

“That one, you sure?”

You giggled and hugged him around his waist looking up at him.

“Yes I’m sure, that’s the one”

“Ok, close your eyes”

You smile, giving him a disbelieving look but you closed your eyes and waited.

You felt him pull away from you slightly and heard him moving.

“Ok angel, open your eyes”

When you opened them, your heart practically stopped.

Noah was down on one knee in front of you and he held a small black box in his hand.

“What…”

Noah cut you off gently.

“Babe, I can’t give you every star in the galaxy I’m afraid but what I can give you is my heart, you’ve had it from the moment we met. I’ve never known anyone like you, you’ve changed my life for the better and I want to spend every day of the rest of my life waking up next to you…”

Noah opened the box containing the most beautiful ring you had ever seen, with a big diamond the same colour as the stars in the centre.

“I want to go on more adventures with you, travel with you, have a family with you and just grow old every day with you. There’s no one else I’d want to be with so…will you marry me?”

You felt tears falling down your cheeks and you couldn’t stop the smile that formed on your face.

“Yes…yes I’ll marry you!”

Noah smiled, stood upright and pulled you into a deep and passionate kiss before he pulled the ring out of the box and carefully slipped it into your ring finger.

You held your hand up and watched it sparkle against the background of the city lights.

“It’s perfect, this is perfect…is this real?”

Noah laughed and wiped away the tears on your face as he pulled you into his embrace.

“It’s real angel and I can’t wait for the day when I can call you my beautiful wife”

[runnning-outof-time]

The first of a few :)

Tommy- (3 word sentence prompt) “Happy or Sad?”

Thanks for sending this in Liz! I’m sorry it took me a bit to get to writing it. This is a COMPLETE flip from the fic I shared earlier haha. Also I have to say that the bit at the end was inspired by the lovely Bri @there-goes-thefighter ‘s latest Tommy fic ‘Your Shadow Side’…it’s a bit different here, but the idea was stuck in the back of my mind nonetheless. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration - find other stories here!

Bedtime Stories

Tommy Shelby x Reader & Daughter

Warnings: none

Word Count: 797

Summary: Tommy gets asked a question that leaves him speechless while he’s telling his daughter a bedtime story.

“I want daddy to tell me a story tonight!” Isabella Shelby exclaimed, stamping her foot on the ground as she looked up at her mother. Her little hands were balled up into fists, and the glare on her face was one that could even rival her father’s. Wonder who she got it from?

(Y/N) sighed and looked away from her four year old daughter, at her wits end now. It had been a long day. Isabella woke up in a grumpy mood, so everything had been a fight with her. On top of that, Matthew, her two year old son, had just figured out how to get into things, so she’d been following him around the house to make sure he didn’t hurt himself or break anything.

“Dad’s busy with his work at the moment, darling,” she tried to reason with the child.

Isabella did not listen. “I’m going to go ask him,” she insisted, turning on her heel then so that she could make her way down the hall to the door of her father’s office.

(Y/N) stayed in the hallway, her arms crossed over her chest as she heard the muffled exchange between her husband and child. A look of surprise formed on her face when Isabella emerged triumphant from the office moments later with Tommy following behind her. She’s wrapped around his finger, (Y/N) thought to herself with soft laugh.

“Time for bed?” Tommy questioned as he approached (Y/N), chuckling at the fact that Isabella had walked right passed her without a word.

“It is,” (Y/N) responded with a nod, her eyes wide as she conveyed her exasperation to him. Tommy sent her a soft grin before he continued to follow his daughter to her room.

Once Isabella was settled, Tommy got into telling an elaborate story about a princess who had to go and save her darling dog from the grasps of an evil king — they’d just taken in Cyril and the little girl was obsessed with all things related to dogs. Isabella listened intently to the story, reacting to all of the twists and turns that it had. That was the thing she loved most about her dad’s bedtime stories: no one was the same. (Y/N) swore that he could have made a career in writing them…if he hadn’t went down other paths that is.

“We’re reaching the ending now, love,” Tommy warned his daughter as he took a moment’s pause. A pout formed on Isabella’s face; she didn’t want the story to be over yet. “I need to ask you about the ending…”

“What about it?” Isabella interrupted before he could get to the question, her eyebrows furrowing as she titled her head slightly.

“Happy or sad?” he asked, his brows raised as he waited for her answer.

“Happy,” the little girl answered without second thought. Tommy nodded and prepared to end the story. Isabella spoke again before he could get a word out, “who would ever choose sad?” she asked, her question one of the most genuine ones Tommy had ever heard.

“I…” he began to answer, but his words died in his throat as he really thought about the question she asked. He shook his head and ran his hand along his jaw, trying to think of a response that was worthy of such a question. “Someone who isn’t quite sure what happy is, I’d guess,” he finally responded, not sure if what he decided on was even good enough.

Isabella thought about it for a second, her pondering starkly present in her facial expression. “Well that isn’t us, right, daddy?” she then sweetly asked, her doe eyes finding his again.

In that moment, all the bad that Tommy Shelby had done was washed away. All the struggle and strife, the bad blood and the tunnels were the furthest thing from his mind. Now all that was present was the world that his darling daughter was imagining. One that only held good, one where everything ended happy. He was so thankful for her innocence, for the light that she brought into his life.

The slightest smile graced his lips as he shook his head ever so slightly. “No, love…that isn’t us,” he answered her as he sat a loving hand on her blanket covered knee. His smile grew with each second their eyes stayed connected, and he thanked whoever was mainf decisions in the sky for giving him this beautiful little girl.

“Are you gonna finish the story, dad?” Isabella asked, cutting through Tommy’s thoughts and bringing him back to reality.

Her expectant look made him laugh as he nodded his head. “Yeah, I’m gonna finish the story,” he answered her before going on with the happy ending she’d asked for.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @areyenotfondofmelobster @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

[a-haunting-memory]

you grasp on the lackadaisy characters is actually pretty realistic, even involving the unflattering aspects of a relationship with them. anyways, what about their behavior when initially starting a relationship? what are they like when they’re still adjusting? write for whoever comes to mind lol

Aww, thanks! You flatter me :)

I'm sorry this request took a bit long to reply, but this week's been quite busy for me. Now that I've got some free time, let me write that out. Thanks for the free choice of characters too haha. The amount of characters I chose might not be a lot, but they're fun to write.

Summary: How would Zib, Wick, Rocky act at the begging of a relationship.

Reader is gn.

Zib:

okay so first of all, I think that if you wanted to get into a serious relationship with Zib, you must've been friends or whatever else you were for a while already.

Once you've finally decided to put a label on your uh situationship he'd be... Somewhat less stressed about you suddenly leaving and finding someone else. It's not like you knew he was stressed about it anyway.

There wouldn't be a lot changing in your relationship except stuff like:

He'd be a bit more clingy in public, whether it is leaning onto you as you sit next to him, sending you looks from the stage as he performs which unfortunately happens very rarely or just simply flirting with you a bit more than before.

He also might get a bit more gentle-like, but don't mention it🌚

Wick:

Okay so there are two ways of starting a relationship with him:

1. If you're meeting him after the 'Mitzi incident' and you're the first one to jump up with the relationship, he might be very careful at first. He must make sure you're not a gold digger or anything. No offense tho.

2. However if you were a trusted one and always acted nice towards him, it might go pretty smoothly actually.

DATES👏 This man will take you out on cute dates👏 prove me wrong, or don't. Let me dream. He will take you out to a nice restaurant from time to time, treat you to a nice meal or take you out on a walk, and all that jazz.

He will try his tricks to woo and court you. He might not be the best of bests at it, but he's definitely not bad either.

At first he'd try to tone down his bragging about his special interests, but as the time passes and he sees he can be comfortable around you, he goes all with it. You can be out on a date and he's yapping about different types of stones and telling you some random fun facts. Well, isn't that fun???😼

Rocky:

If you don't say it very clearly, he might not know what you meant. He might still treat you like a "pal", a "friend" for a while.

He would have to get used to the thought of having someone dear, who would love him again. Just be slow and patient with him.

However once he already processes it, he's quick to soak in all your love and affection. He's starved for it.

However if you wanted him to open up a little bit more to you... It's a completely different story... It will take him a lot of time, but you will get there someday, eventually.

[sansaorgana]

Hi! It's anon from the period thoughts hehe! I think you're spot on with all of that! Thank you :) Any chance you can do a fic with it?

Gale w/a girlfriend or wife that's having awful period cramps/day?

hiii 😘 guess who started her period today? ME 🤣 when I realised this request is next in the line to be written I laughed 😛 because it's something I'm going through at the moment, I got a bit carried away and it's quite long for a cute little fic like that haha 🥰

I have about 10 MOTA requests to write in my inbox 😅 so please, go easy with them for a while 👉🏻👈🏻 especially that requests for Feyd are open now, too 🤩

You were laying on the couch under a blanket, mindlessly watching the TV with your eyes hazy from the painkiller you had taken. Unfortunately, it wasn’t working for the pain but it was making you feel even more dazed out.

When you heard the front door opening, you sensed the feeling of guilt forming a knot in your stomach. Buck was coming back home after work and not only his house hadn’t been cleaned but also there was no dinner waiting for him on the table. You hoped he’d survive on the sandwiches but you felt bad for him.

“I’m back!” He announced his arrival but you didn’t move. You simply couldn’t.

You heard him undressing and taking his shoes off before peeking into the living room and looking at the TV.

“You’re watching this?” He asked surprised. Well, the program was stupid as hell and you were aware of it.

“I don’t want to but I can’t move to turn it off,” you admitted in a raspy, tired voice.

“Are you okay?” Buck furrowed his brows and approached the TV. He crouched down and turned it off.

“Thank you, it was starting to give me a migraine,” you admitted with a sigh.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He turned around to face you. 

“I’m sorry, I have those days,” you explained.

“What days, love?”

“Ugh…” You winced at one of the cramps. “Code red, Gale. Those days,” you specified.

“Oh,” he straightened himself and put his hands on his hips, getting visibly awkward. “What can I do for you? Does it hurt a lot?”

“Yes, it does. Just leave me here alone…” You mumbled. “And don’t get angry at me because I haven’t done anything around the house. Haven’t cooked anything either,” you lowered your voice, a little scared of his reaction.

You didn’t expect your husband to be angry about such a thing. He was not like most men. But he still could get a little frustrated and irritated. You wouldn’t blame him for that but it would still feel awful to disappoint him like that.

“Hey, you don’t feel good, it’s fine,” Buck only said. “I can make myself sandwiches,” he shrugged his arms. “Have you eaten anything?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Not really, no,” you answered. “I took a painkiller but it’s not helping. It made me hazy, though.”

Buck stood there in silence for a while, looking as if he was thinking intensely about something.

“I have an idea,” he said finally. “Are you allowed to take baths in your state?” He asked and you laughed at him.

“Jesus, Gale, can you imagine not being allowed to take a bath when you’re bleeding for a few days straight?” You asked and he blushed adorably. It was quite cute how he was feeling uncomfortable with the subject of periods and how little he did know about them… yet, he still tried to help.

“Let’s run you a bath then,” he nodded.

“Gale, please…” You sighed. “Baby, you’re tired after work. Just make yourself sandwiches and get some rest, too,” you tried to stop him.

“I’m fine,” he assured you. “Come,” he approached you and picked you up bridal style with the blanket still around you. You squeezed it in your fist so it wouldn’t fall down and let him carry you to the bathroom upstairs.

Buck sat you carefully on the closed toilet seat and turned the faucet on to fill the bathtub with the warm water. He opened one of the drawers of your bathroom cabinet and hummed to himself.

“What kind of bath do you want?” He asked, unsurely.

“What do you mean by that?” You leaned back, resting your head on the cold bathroom tiles.

“You have all sorts of things here… Rose, lavender, vanilla…” He read the words on the bottles of your bath oils.

“Lavender helps,” you told him and Buck nodded his head.

He took the bottle out and you watched him carefully tilting it above the bathtub… only to pour half of it inside the water. You gasped.

“What?” He turned his head around, startled by the sound leaving your mouth.

“You’re supposed to add a few drops…” You sighed, too tired to get annoyed. Also, getting annoyed when he was trying so hard to help you would be simply unfair.

“I’m sorry… Should I run another bath now?” He asked.

“Don’t be crazy. You’ve no idea how much money you’ve just poured down there,” you let out a tired chuckle.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” Buck closed the lid and put the bottle back in the drawer. “But is it safe to bathe in it now?”

“Only one way to find out, is it?” You shrugged your arms.

Buck approached you to help you stand up but you shook your head.

“No, no,” you stood up by yourself on shaky legs. “I don’t… I don’t want you to see…” You explained shyly.

“It’s just some blood, I can handle it, baby,” he assured you but he was blushing again.

“Please, just leave me here and go downstairs to eat something,” you told him. “I’ll be fine.”

“Actually, I’ll go to the store,” he stated. “I’ll buy us some proper dinner and I’ll be back in twenty minutes. You won’t drown in the meantime, will you?”

“Don’t be daft, I’m not a baby,” you smiled at him and he nodded.

Buck left the bathroom and when you were left alone there, you allowed the blanket to fall down on the floor. Then you got rid of the rest of the clothes and went inside the bathtub, sighing out of relief at the feeling of the warm water.

You were sitting there for so long that the water turned cold, however you felt too comfortable to leave. It was Buck’s soft knocking upon the door that made you finally move.

“I’m back. Are you alive there?” He asked through the door.

“Yes, I’m about to leave now,” you answered.

“Alright. I have chicken,” he told you. “Do you want tea?”

“Yes, please.”

You heard his footsteps going downstairs as you watched the water go down the drain before you stood up, grabbed a towel and dried yourself before putting dark underwear, a black nightgown and a robe that you had in the bathroom cabinet. You put the dress and underwear you had been wearing earlier to the laundry bin and picked up the blanket to fold it and take it with you downstairs to put it back in the living room.

You felt so much better after your bath, you had to admit it. Your hair was wet but you didn’t bother with drying it. It was around six in the evening and you already looked like you were about to go to sleep but you knew that Buck wouldn’t mind that at all.

And indeed, when you walked inside the kitchen, he didn’t even ask about it nor furrowed his brows at your nighttime attire. There was a chicken with mashed potatoes and a salad on the table already, alongside the tea he had made for you.

“I bought more of that lavender oil so you don’t run out of it,” Buck pointed at the unpacked groceries on the kitchen counter. “And something sweet for you,” he added. “The lady at the store was nosy, she asked me why I was buying chicken for dinner and was my wife sick so I told her the truth and she told me women like sweets when they have… those days,” his cheeks turned pink as he moved the chair for you and you sat down with a smile.

“She was right,” you told him. 

“Oh, good, for a while I was scared she just wanted to swindle me to spend more money,” Buck chuckled and took a seat in front of you. “So, after all, she was helpful.”

“Yeah, I know what nosy lady you’re talking about,” you nodded at him. “She’s annoying but she’s also sweet. Hard to explain,” you giggled.

“And how do you feel now?”

“I feel much better, thank you,” you nodded and reached your hand out to caress his and give it a light squeeze before you both started to eat the chicken.

Buck was telling you about his day at work and you were listening with a slight smile. You would usually comment and ask questions or gasp at some things, demanding to know more gossip. But today you were just nodding your head and smiling, still listening but less attentively.

“I’m sorry, perhaps you’d rather eat in silence. You’ve mentioned getting a migraine before,” Buck shut his mouth suddenly.

“I would have told you if I wanted you to be quiet, baby. It’s fine,” you assured him. “And the migraine is gone now. The bath really helped me.”

“Well… I think I’ve already said everything anyway,” he laughed and stood up to get the empty plates from the table to put them in the sink. “I will wash them and you go upstairs and lay in bed. I’ll bring you the dessert when I’m done.”

“You’re absolutely the sweetest, you know that?” You asked him. 

“I’m only taking care of you, darling. Like husbands do. You take care of me, too. Every day,” he looked like he didn’t understand why you were so grateful and it was making him even more special.

And he didn’t even know.

You wondered if his heart was truly so pure that he had no idea how other men could treat their wives. Whenever someone would mention some dreadful story of this sort, Buck would always widen his eyes as if he found it hard to believe. Perhaps he was truly that innocent and oblivious. Or he just couldn’t imagine being so cruel. Either way, he was a gem.

“I just love you so much,” you whispered, getting emotional. Most likely from the hormones.

“I love you, too,” he answered, a bit surprised. “Go upstairs, baby. Do you want me to carry you?”

“No, I will manage,” you stood up and kissed his cheek before leaving the kitchen.

In fact, you’d love him to carry you. But you didn’t want to bother him too much. So you just went to the bedroom and then you sighed at the sight of the freshly put white sheets. You had changed them in the morning, stupidly forgetting about your period coming soon.

With a grunt, you started to take them off. Your moves were slow and when Buck joined you upstairs, you were almost done.

“What are you doing?” He widened his eyes and put the tray he had been holding in his hands down on the vanity table.

“I put them on this morning but I have to change them now. I don’t want to stain them with blood,” you explained.

“You should have waited for me, I’ll do that,” Buck approached you and took the sheets from your hands. “Give that to me.”

“Buck, you’re a sweetheart, but I’m not dying or sick. I can do that, really,” you tried to assure him. “It’s not like it’s my first time having those days,” you explained, carefully avoiding the word period around him because you could only imagine how uncomfortable it would make him feel.

“You can help,” he agreed. “Give me the sheets you want me to put on,” he pointed to the wardrobe with his chin and you rolled your eyes before opening it and handing him the dark navy blue sheets. He gave you back the white ones and you folded them before putting them back.

When the bed was made, you sat under the cover and rested on the pillow. Your husband placed the tray in front of you and you smiled at the sight of a cake and some ice cream.

“Is it alright?” Buck asked.

“Yes, yes, it is,” you nodded with a smile and started to eat.

“By the way, I’m totally getting you a dishwasher,” he sighed as he sat on the edge of the bed and caressed your wet hair.

“Are you crazy? They're expensive!” You protested.

“But it’s going to make your life easier,” Buck pinched your cheek playfully. “You can’t say no, by the way, I’ve already made my decision.”

You didn’t say anything then and just finished eating as he watched you with admiration in his eyes. You offered him a few bites and he agreed to take them but most of the dessert was yours to eat on your own. When you were finished, you laid down, ready to take a nap. Buck took the tray from the bed and leaned in to place a kiss upon your forehead.

“Sweet dreams, baby,” he whispered softly.

“Well, then, my dreams better be of you,” you smiled at him lovingly, “if you want them to be sweet.”

Buck winked at you and went back downstairs to take the tray down. You were starting to fall asleep by the time he was back to lay down next to you and hold you close, making you feel loved and taken care of.

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[littlefireball]

Can I request something similar to YS|Oops

So pretty much same scenario but instead all of Ateez walks in on Yeosang ×reader right whe she starts squirting and they join in taking turns making her squirt and watch yeosang send her into sub space? And if your comfortable with it while in subspace she gets so much pleasure she starts to let go of her bladder? Etc?

~🐈‍⬛

haha actually im writing pt.2 as there are so many requests on wattpad 🤣i supposed to update yesterday but it took too long 🥹 it was my first time to write OT8 and it was quite hard😂i tried my best to write it better ahh but sorry i don't write pee/bladder

OT8|Oops! Pt.2 Sharing is caring (M)

Part 1 YS|Oops! is here

ᴏᴛ8 x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ʟᴏɴɢ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ|ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx|ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀɪɴɢ|ꜰᴀᴄᴇ ꜱɪᴛᴛɪɴɢ|ꜰᴀᴄᴇ ꜰᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ|ᴏʀᴀʟ|ʙʀᴇᴀꜱᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏ|ᴏᴠᴇʀꜱᴛɪᴍᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ|ʜᴀɪʀ ᴘᴜʟʟɪɴɢ|ᴄʜᴏᴋɪɴɢ|ʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴊᴏɴɢʜᴏ|ᴛʜʀᴇᴇꜱᴏᴍᴇ|ᴅᴏᴜʙʟᴇ ᴘᴇɴᴇᴛʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ|ᴍɪɴɢɪ ʜᴀꜱ ꜱɪʀ ᴋɪɴᴋ|ꜱᴘᴀɴᴋɪɴɢ|ᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴇx ᴛᴏʏ|ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘʏ ꜱᴇx|ᴅᴏᴍ ʏᴇᴏꜱᴀɴɢ|ꜱᴜʙ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ|

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5ᴋ

“What? Wanna join us?" Yeosang's face wears an evil smirk. His face twisted into an evil smirk as he exposes you to the group without a care. Oh, because he knows, he knows you have this kink or even want to try something new but you never told him. It's just that he noticed it himself.

You couldn't help but let out a moan as he thrust deeply. Trying to stifle your sounds, you locked eyes with the stunned onlookers. They were unable to tear their gaze away from the sight of Yeosang moving in and out, and your body responding in kind.

“See, babe, they all want you.”

“What…oh fuck Sangie~” Your words are abruptly silenced by Yeosang's forceful thrust, plunging you into the depths of pleasure. You're on the brink of climax. You can't help but let out a loud moan - it's just a habit of yours.

"Ah~ah~" "Do you want to come, babe?" You arch your back as he intensifies his movements. A rush of ecstasy courses through your entire body, from head to toe. With your eyes shut tight, you can hear the rest of ATEEZ murmuring and cursing, especially San. Every time you call out 'Sangie', his cock twitches and stiffens even more due to your mispronunciation.

"Fuck, Sangie, please…" "What?" Yeosang looks at them all with a wicked grin, noticing they're all fully aroused now. They can't tear their eyes away from you.

It must be quite a sight to witness how intensely you climax.

Yeosang buries his face in the crook of your neck, picking up the pace to reach his peak. He thrusts rapidly, the sound of skin slapping echoing through the room, driving them all towards their climax.

Shit,shit,shit. Your moans are so gratifying, and they can't resist any longer. They NEED to have you, NOW.

"Sangie… Sang… ah fuckkkk!!" You squirt forcefully onto his cock, giving Yeosang endless pleasure as the warmth and wetness envelop him. "Fuck…" He also comes, filling the condom after a few more thrusts.

"You did amazing, baby. You squirted," he says, intentionally provoking jealousy and desire from the others. After all, sharing is caring.

Yeosang unlocks your handcuffs and hands them to Wooyoung after pulling out. Swallowing hard, Wooyoung takes the handcuffs back, his eyes still fixated on your chest rising and falling with each pant.

“Don't you want to taste her?” A gasp escapes Wooyoung as he considers the idea of indulging in a sweet and delicious experience. His mind is filled with erotic fantasies as he imagines the intimate act of pleasuring you—he is eating you out while you are sitting on his face, growling messily and creaming his face with your —

“Yah, fuck you man.” Wooyoung bursts out, rolling his eyes at the back. Oh my, no one expects he is so bold to ask to eat you out.

“How about you, Y/N?” Yeosang asks. Blushing, you are taken aback by his question and his perceptiveness. “You want it, don't you? I know you always want to try something new~” Seeing your silence, Yeosang leans down and whispers in your ears.

“I…yeosang…” You have no idea why he knows this secret but feel sorry for him. “It’s okay, baby.” He drops a kiss on your forehead. “Go help my buddy, hm? But of course you can say no.” “I'm okay.” With a smile on your lips, yeosang pecks at you once again before walking to the chair.

"Don't hurt her. "Yah, just watch me eat your girlfriend out.” As Wooyoung approaches you with a mischievous smirk, his gaze lingering on your enticing form, your heart races with anticipation.

“Sit on my face, y/n.” Startled, you stare at his lustful gaze without knowing how to do it. Even you have never sat on yeosang’s face.

“Don't be intense, y/n. It feels good.”With Wooyoung lying back on the sofa, he guides you to straddle his face, offering support and comfort. “Relax, I’m holding you.” As you settle into position, his hands caress your thighs and squeeze your buttocks, eliciting a shy moan from your lips.

“So sensitive.” Mingi and the others watch intently, their eyes fixed on your every move. The atmosphere is charged with excitement, and your body responds with a rush of heat and a quickened heartbeat.

“Fuck her with me, San. Don’t you want her too?""Shit.” San murmurs as wooyoung voices his mind. His member has been arching for a while when he sees you and yeosang having sex.

“Can you take both of us?” San asks softly as he lifts your chin. “Yes, please.” You nod with a murmur.

“Good.”As San unbuckles his belt and takes hold of your hair, guiding himself into your mouth, Wooyoung pulls you closer, his lips seeking yours. The sensations overwhelm you as you navigate the dual stimulation, feeling a mix of pleasure and intensity.

“Oh fuck!” San couldn't resist the urge to lean his head back and let out a deep moan as your warmth enveloped him in pure pleasure. With each deep thrust, he felt a shiver run down his spine from the touch of your tongues. It is a challenge to handle two men at once, but Wooyoung's skilled tongue explored every inch, licking up the juices and focusing on your most sensitive spot.

The room fills with moans and sighs as the three of you become entwined in a passionate embrace, each touch and kiss igniting a fire within. Despite the challenge of accommodating both men, you find yourself lost in the moment, surrendering to the shared ecstasy of the experience.

“Fuck, you feel too good.” As San withdraws slightly, leaving just the tip in your mouth before thrusting deeply, reaching the back of your throat, a loud moan escapes his lips as he quickened his pace. You struggle to contain the swirling sensation in your stomach as you try your best to accommodate his length.

Your body sways in rhythm with San's movements, causing your clit to brush against Wooyoung's lips. A surge of pleasure travels from your core to your entire body, urging you to bounce with more intensity. His tongue continues to swirl, savoring the juices that flow endlessly from you, delving deep inside with each provocative sucking sound, leaving you dizzy with desire.

"Damn…oh god…" The moans and curses blend together, making it impossible to distinguish who is making which sound as your mind struggles to keep up. All you can focus on are the gasps of pleasure from the men and the slick sounds of skin meeting skin.

The overwhelming sensations from both your lower core and mouth push you towards a state of chaos, heightened by the erotic symphony that echoes in your ears.

“I'm cumming.” With a few more powerful thrusts, San releases his essence into your mouth and pulls away, a thin line of saliva connecting the two of you, trailing down to your chin. “Wow, you look stunning.” Your moans intensify as wooyoung suddenly plunges deep and fast, his tongue adding to the sensation, bringing you closer to the edge.

“Oh my god!” You bounce even harder, chasing that peak, and wooyoung responds to your urgency, licking and sucking with fervor while giving you a firm spank. “Oh my goodness!” You climax on wooyoung’s face, breathing heavily as exhaustion washes over you.

“You did so well.” San gently pats your head, a smile playing on his lips. “Spit it out.” He hands you a cup, and you comply, letting the white liquid dribble from the corner of your mouth. “Damn.” He tenderly strokes your pink lips with his thumb, wiping away the remnants of his release. “Suck it.” You part your lips slightly, following his command, sucking on his finger.

He can feel the sensation of your tongue circling around his fingertip, causing him to utter a soft "Good girl." Your laughter fills the air as you release his finger with a gentle pop, earning a smirk from him in return.

"Now, it's my turn. You take too long," Wooyoung whimpers, pulling you down to sit on his thighs.

"Hey, use protection!" Yeosang interjects, tossing a condom to Wooyoung as he unties his pants.

"Yah! I know!"

"Ready to make you lose your mind," Wooyoung's face contorts into a mischievous smirk, a look usually reserved for the stage. He looks incredibly attractive.

"Ride me, y/n," he instructs after rolling the condom onto his hardened shaft. "Oh, yes, that feels amazing." A wave of pleasure washes over you as you sink down onto him, both of you unable to contain your moans of pleasure.

As exhaustion starts to set in, your legs weaken, almost causing you to fall onto Wooyoung's chest. "Feeling tired?" Wooyoung grips your waist and delivers a deep thrust.

"Oh, fuck!" Gasps and moans escape your lips, your throat feeling tight as the intense sensations in your lower body overwhelm your senses, making it hard to breathe. His movements become more vigorous, your nails digging into his chest, a mix of pleasure and pain coursing through him.

With your eyes tightly shut, you are unaware of the others, focusing on sitting up straight. They watch in awe as your chest, adorned with Yeosang's bite marks, trembles. "It's indeed soft," Yeosang remarks, causing you to blush and bite your lip as memories of his playful touches flood your mind.

"She must be craving something exquisite," Yeosang muses, unaware of Jongho's approach as you shut your eyes. A sudden cold touch on your chest makes you squirm, feeling the gentle movement of someone's fingertip.

"She's sensitive, isn't she?" Jongho's deep voice resonates in your ears, causing you to hum and tighten your grip on Wooyoung's cock in response.

“Let's see if our maknae knows where her trigger is.” As Jongho leans down to drop a kiss on your chest, you feel a ball of saliva swallow down your throat. Wrapping your arm around his head, you pull him closer, savoring the sensation of his tongue on your skin. He wastes no time in sucking hard on your nipples, his wet mouth leaving a trail of heat that ignites your senses.

His kisses are intense, his tongue exploring every inch of your body, sending shivers down your spine. "Oh my…" you moan as Wooyoung moves faster inside you, his cock twitching with each thrust. Jongho's wet kisses leave a mark on your breast, neck, and jaw, driving you to the edge of pleasure.

"I'm about to cum," Wooyoung groans, his movements becoming more urgent as he reaches his peak. You climax with him, the warmth of his release sending you over the edge. They both groan in satisfaction as your juices drip onto Wooyoung and the sofa, a testament to the pleasure they've given you.

As Jongho releases your chest, you whimper, but he quickly moves behind you, pressing his muscular chest against your wet back. "Don't rush," he whispers, guiding you down onto his cock, filling you once again. Resting your head on his shoulder, he moves with a steady rhythm, his hands exploring every part of your body with care and precision.

"Show us how you're going to please her, Hojong," Wooyoung commands, watching with anticipation as Jongho takes control. Despite your exhaustion, the thrill of being exposed to all of them keeps you on edge. Jongho's hands grip your ass, guiding your movements as he thrusts into you, his touch sending waves of pleasure through your body.

He caresses the inside of your thighs, his other hand kneading your chest, his movements calculated to drive you wild. The room is filled with the sounds of your moans and their groans as they all lock eyes on your soaked clit and jongho’s cock moving in and out of your cunt, a symphony of pleasure that leaves you breathless and wanting more.

“Wanna be rough?” Jongho's warm breath tickles your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "Please," you whisper, his right hand tightening around your neck while his left hand secures your arms behind your back. With each intense and deep thrust, a muffled sound escapes your lips, unable to scream.

As the sensation of suffocation grips you, black spots dance before your eyes. The pain in your neck mixes with the overwhelming pleasure pulsing through your body, blurring your consciousness.

Beneath you, the movements are anything but gentle, driving you to the brink of ecstasy. Multiple orgasms leave you drained, but Jongho shows no mercy. There is no respite, only relentless thrusts that delve into the core of your being. Your stifled cries morph into choked sobs as he releases his grip on your neck.

“Jong─” "Do you dare to moan out his name, y/n?” Yeosang's warning jolts you, causing you to halt mid-sentence, much to the surprise of the others. "I…I'm sorry," you stammer, sensing Jongho's mischievous delight in the situation as he releases a wicked chuckle. Known for his love of teasing, it's no wonder he's reveling in this moment.

"Remember not to say my name, hm?" Jongho's warning is cut short as he abruptly pushes you down, forcing you onto all fours. The suddenness of his actions elicits a string of expletives from you as he thrusts into you with unrelenting force, hitting your deepest depths without an ounce of mercy or tenderness.

The mix of pain and numbness sends shivers down your spine, as Jongho grips your hair tightly and continues his primal onslaught. Gasping for air, the intensity of the sensations overwhelms you, causing a blend of pleasure and agony that leaves you on the brink of losing control.

Tears stream down your face, your moans now intermingled with sobs as the overwhelming sensations render you speechless, reduced to incoherent sounds of ecstasy and torment.

“Slow…slow…down…please…ah fuck!!”

“What did you say?I can’t hear.”

“Hm…please jo─…"

"Say my name or I won't stop," he demands. Yeosang’s eyes fixed on you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. You bite your lip, resisting the urge to comply, knowing the consequences if you give in. A reminder of his past roughness when you challenged him.

Suddenly, Jongho's hand connects with your buttocks, leaving a stinging mark and snapping you back to the present. "Moan for me," he commands, his voice a potent trigger that compels you to obey. Your moan fills the room, drawing a dark look of jealousy from Yeosang, who knows you only heed Jongho's words.

Jongho's thrusts quicken, his movements erratic as he nears climax. With a powerful thrust, he buries himself fully inside you, eliciting a gasp and a wide-mouth of pleasure from you. His hand finds your clit, expertly teasing and pressing, pushing you to the edge. "Please, I… I…" you plead, the sensations overwhelming you.

"Do you want to cum?" Jongho's touch on your clit ignites a fire within you, coiling tight in your stomach. "Look at your jealous boyfriend," he taunts, knowing Yeosang's eyes are fixed on the scene. The impending punishment for your disobedience hangs heavy in the air.

“Cum, y/n.” As Jongho relentlessly pushes you to your limit, you struggle to hold on.“Gosh!” With a final, powerful thrust, you reached a peak, wetting jongho’s cock and causing Jongho to release with a gasp of pleasure.

Collapsing onto the sofa, you are overcome with exhaustion, unable to even sit up straight. "I need to take a bath," Jongho says and withdraws from you before heading to the bathroom.

Before you could react, you were enveloped in a warm embrace. Yeosang, his eyes now filled with tenderness, pulled you close. "Are you alright, my love?" he asked softly, his earlier anger seemingly a distant memory. You nodded wearily, resting your head on his shoulder.

"You did well, my love. But it seems that someone has broken the rules," he says, his words causing your eyes to widen in surprise. Before you could offer an explanation, he silences you with a finger on your lips.

"Let me see if you require punishment." Beneath his angelic facade, you sense a hint of malevolence.

With effortless grace, he scoops you up in his arms. "Would you like to try something new, my darling?" he inquiries, before placing you on the lap of Mingi, who sits half-naked on the massage chair. Mingi's large frame and impressive endowment set him apart from the others.

"You may only moan my name, understood?" he instructed, planting a gentle kiss on your temple before moving towards the sofa. "Yes, sir," you obediently replied, causing Mingi to whimper with desire. His alpha instincts were on the brink─he yearned to take you so fiercely that you would beg for mercy.

"Are you ready for me?" Mingi lifted your chin with his strong hand, locking eyes with your gaze filled with lust. "Yes," you murmured as he traced your lips with his finger.

Lifting you with a firm grip on your thighs, Mingi guides you down onto his impressive length. The size difference makes it a challenge for you to accommodate him, his girth filling you completely.

A gasp escapes your lips as your breath quickens. Mingi is just as sensitive as you, his member responding to every subtle movement.

"Are you alright?" "Yes…yes…" You weakly nod, trembling as you begin to move. Gripping his neck, you lean in to watch as he enters and exits your core, unable to take him in fully.

"Are you adjusting well?" Unbeknownst to you, Yunho has moved behind you, his gentle touch sending shivers down your spine.

"She's doing her best," Mingi smirks, enjoying the sight of your reactions. "Then you should assist her," Yunho suggests, pressing the 'down' button on the chair, causing it to recline slowly.

"Hmm…" Mingi's thrusts grow deeper, causing your toes to curl. Pressed against Mingi's chest by Yunho, a kiss on your neck is followed by a soft whisper, "Can you handle both of us at once?"

"I…I…I can, please," you stammer, surprised by your newfound confidence. Burying your face in Mingi's neck, Yunho joins in, sliding his length into the same entrance.

"Oh god! You're so tight!" Yunho groans at the sensation of your walls squeezing his sizable member. His length is even longer and thicker, intensifying the pleasure for all involved. Holding himself up with both hands, he pushes in a little and pulls out until only the tip is inside. Mingi, also, gently thrusts upward.

The intense friction between their bodies sends waves of unprecedented pleasure coursing through all three of you, eliciting messy moans that fill the air with a heady blend of scents and passion. As they thrust rhythmically, the sensation of double penetration overwhelms you. With each withdrawal and thrust, the intensity builds, driving you to the brink of release.

Struggling to contain your moans and cries, your mind is consumed by the chaos of pleasure. Their groans mingle with yours, their hands caressing your body, igniting a fiery heat within you that threatens to consume you. As Mingi's movements grow more urgent, you cling to him, nails digging into his skin, a mix of pain and pleasure fueling his desire to push you both to new heights.

In the heat of the moment, as Yunho matches Mingi's pace, the tightness in your bodies builds, signaling the impending release. The overwhelming sensations drive you to the edge, your moans turning to desperate cries as you teeter on the brink of climax.

"S-Sir," you gasp, knowing Mingi's weakness for the title, feeling his response in the arch of his body. With a plea for release, you surrender to the intensity of the moment, urging them on as you reach the peak of pleasure. Finally, as they both find their release, the culmination of your shared passion pushes you to reach the climax.

The knot in your stomach breaks as they pull out of you. “That’s incredible.” Yunho whispers, caressing your head as a comfort. Mingi wants to stand up but you collapse on him with your legs just like jelly, almost unable to support your body.

“Hey yeosang, your girlfriend almost passes out.” Yeosang laughs as he picks you up, whispering in your ears, “Baby, you are so good for us. Let’s clean up first, hm?” You nod, having no energy to say a word.

The warm water cascading down on your tired body felt like a soothing balm, washing away the physical and emotional exhaustion that had consumed you moments ago. Yeosang’s touch is gentle yet firm, a silent reassurance that he is there for you, that he cares for you deeply.

Lifting your chin, he places a kiss on your lips. “Are you okay now?” As you slowly regain your strength, you respond to him with a smile, “Yah.” “You’re so amazing, babe. But you still have two guests.” Oh yes…Hongjoong and Seonghwa…you remember they return to their room after yeosang picks you up to the bathroom.

“They have a surprise for you.”

Once you are clean and refreshed, Yeosang wraps a soft towel around you and leads you back to the bedroom. You can’t see anything as they turn off the light, only hearing a metal colliding sound.

“Oh here you are, y/n.” Seonghwa's voice makes you shocked a little bit as his hands reach down to hold yours.

Click The sound of the handcuffs locking your hands echoes, the cold touch of the metal makes you realize that you're handcuffed.

“You guys are watching fifty shades of grey, right?” Not knowing when Hongjoong moves behind you, he gently removes the towel and begins to caress your clit.

You tilt your head back, resting it on his shoulder, as you feel his fingers exploring your sensitive areas with a firm touch.

Suddenly, a warm, wet sensation envelops your clit, causing you to arch your back and press closer to Hongjoong.

"Feel good?" Seonghwa whispers, burying his face in your lower body and planting soft kisses along the way. The desire within you ignites once more, despite your exhaustion, as if your cravings have never been fully satisfied.

Seonghwa's movements become more intense and rapid, his long tongue delving into your core, expertly licking and sucking on your most sensitive spot.

Your hands find their way to his head, urging him to delve deeper and provide you with even more pleasure.

A sharp spank brings you back to reality, the force behind it causing you to cry out in surprise.

"You have a good pussy," Hongjoong remarks, delivering another firm spank that leaves a mark on your tender skin.

Each time his hand connects with your ass, the impact causes a delightful bounce that Hongjoong clearly enjoys.

Soon, your screaming is cut off by a kiss. Yeosang grabs your chin to give a passionate kiss, claiming you are his, only his.

You yield to his advances, allowing him to take the lead as his movement grows more urgent, more possessive.

Every time hongjong spanks you, you let out a whine and each vocalization causes vibrations that drive Yeosang closer to losing control.

He needs you to moan louder.

Parting your lips, Yeosang releases your chin. "Gotta play something," he says before disappearing into the darkness.

"Ha…ha!" You barely had time to process his departure before Hongjoong spanked you again. "How can you be so easily distracted?" you stammered. "I… I'm sorry."

"Don't be too hard on her, Hongjoong," Seonghwa interjected softly. But then, without warning, he plunges his tongue and fingers into your wet pussy, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from you.

"Oh, fuck!" you exclaim. Yeosang returns just as you are getting lost in the moment. You can’t see what he handed Seonghwa, but the sound of it brings you back to reality.

"Can you handle this?" Seonghwa asks as he sets the vibrator to its highest setting. The vibrating sound makes you swallow nervously.

"Yes, please… Hiss!" Before you can finish your sentence, he places the vibrator on your clit. The intense vibration sends numbness through your body, causing you to instinctively close your thighs.

"Open wide," Seonghwa commands. "Sorry, sorry… Fuck!" You moan as he moves the vibrator up and down and even gives a hard press. You can feel the tightness creeping up your cunt as you are going to climax.

Your body is totally in a mess, every small movement brings you to the edge.

“It’s time to take mine, girl.” Hongjoong voice is a little bit higher than others but still full with lust and desire. He steps forward as his cock presses against your ass, rubbing your entrance as if teasing you. “Ready?” Grabbing your shoulder, hongjoong enters your other hole in one go, making you scream as a new sensation washes over your body.

“Oh my god, so tight!” Hongjoong pumps into you with all his might, colliding your soft flesh and sending shivers throughout your body, like electricity coursing through your veins. Your lower core is pushing forward from hongjoong’s movement and Seonghwa’s tongue thrusts even deeper. His warm breath falls on your soaked clit, combined with the sucking sound, making you crave more.

Seonghwa suddenly takes out the vibrator and puts it on your clit again, repeating it as if never tired to tease you. “Want more?” “Yes, please.” As Seonghwa is going to push the vibrator into your cunt, yeosang stops him.

“You can say more dirty things, can you?”

“I want more, please.”

“You know I don’t only want this, darling.”

“Please, I want the vibrator deep inside me.”

“Oh?Only vibrator is enough?” Hongjoong thrusts so hard in a sudden, and you

almost burst out his name but you stop immediately.

“No, no, sir. Please, give me more, all of them.” All your rational flies away as taking control by these three men make you slip into a subspace.

“Good girls can get rewards, can you be good for us?” Yeosang thrusts his fingers into your wet pussy, thrust with every word.

“Yes…!Yes..!Please, sir!”

“But who breaks the rule?”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“She’s just too excited.” Hongjoong smirks as he pulls your hair back, causing you to arch in a provocative position. With a sharp, intense thrust, he inadvertently hits your G-spot, eliciting a whimper of overstimulation from you. His smile widens as he repeats the motion, hitting the same sensitive spot once more.

The impact of his balls against your ass cheek adds an extra layer of sensation for both of you, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing in the room alongside your desperate pleas and moans, drawing groans of approval from the other men present.

"Cum, my doll, you're almost there," Hongjoong murmurs, his lips leaving a trail of wet kisses down your neck. The vibrator, now in place of Yeosang's fingers, delves deep into your core, making your legs tremble from pleasure.

"Such a beautiful mess you make when you come," Yeosang's voice is a seductive whisper in your ear, his words pushing you closer to the edge.

Unable to resist any longer, you clench tightly around Hongjoong's cock with your backside and climax, the vibrator aiding in your release. As you reach your peak, Hongjoong follows suit, finding his own release as he thrusts one final time.

“Girl, what's your word?” “Green…green…” “Right.” Yeosang guides you to the bed, where you sink into the soft sheets, feeling utterly drained.

“Please, sir. I can't take it anymore.”

“Yes, you can. Just one more, hm?”

“You can take it.” He murmurs, leaving a kiss on your temple.

“Just let us take the lead, babe.” As you struggle to keep your eyes open, the gentle touch against your back threatens to lull you into a deep slumber.

Your hands are held firmly above your head by Hongjoong, while Seonghwa effortlessly lifts your thighs, leaving your lower body suspended in the air.

"How hard do you want to be fucked tonight? Answer me, Y/N." Seonghwa asks with a deep voice.

"Just use me as your own fuck doll, please," As drowsiness overtakes you, any sense of inhibition fades away, and your awareness becomes hazy.

“As you wish, doll.” Seonghwa plunges into the depths without warning, causing you to arch your back and gasp for air. Your legs tremble as he begins to move, the slickness of your arousal allowing for a seamless rhythm. "Ah…hm…" You whimper at the cool touch on your chest, Yeosang cupping your breast, his fingers teasing your nipples as he peppered your cheek with kisses.

“Follow me, hyung.”

Yeosang and Hongjoong playfully toy with your nipple, their tongues sending shivers down your spine as Seonghwa continues his gentle thrusts. "See, it's easy to excite her." With a soft hum, those were the last words you heard before succumbing to exhaustion.

—--

You awaken to find that the night has passed and your lover has still not returned from their commitments. The prolonged period of love making has left your body stiff and achy, causing you to tremble as you move about.

"Ahh~~when will you return, Sangie?" you lament softly, seeking solace in the fabric of his t-shirt that adorns your form. The absence of his embrace, his tender caresses, and his reassuring presence leaves you feeling bereft. It is a rare vulnerability that only Yeosang is privy to, the aftermath of your intimate moments together.

The creak of the door interrupts your reverie, prompting you to hasten towards the entrance despite the discomfort in your limbs.

"We're back y/n," yeosang announces, and you cannot contain your joy as you throw yourself into his arms, clinging to him like a koala as he enfolds you in a protective embrace.

However, his attention is soon drawn to a detail that escapes your notice. "Hey, babe, are you not wearing a bra?" he queries, his gaze lingering on your attire.

It dawns on you that you are in Ateez's dorm, not the privacy of your own home. The realization that you are clad in Yeosang's oversized t-shirt hits you, the loose fabric prone to slipping and revealing more than intended.

As you stand before them, a sense of longing and desire emanates from your being, reminiscent of the passion that had been witnessed the day before.

It becomes apparent that they have noticed you are wearing nothing beneath the t-shirt, igniting a spark of mischief and intrigue in their eyes.

“Baby, you want round two?”

Oops…