#(it's just now he has *two* people he wants to wreck and maybe kiss)

[chaoscheebs]

So, consider: a stunning reversal on the whole awkward-ass Yami Yugi-Anzu date, i.e. Atem setting up an outing with Seto and then peace-ing the fuck out, enjoy your date, Yugi.

Yugi, bless his heart, tries so hard to fake not being the one in charge of the body.  Jacket draped on the shoulders like a cape?  Check.  THE PHARAOH VOICE(tm)? Check.  Project (false) confidence like a boss?  Check!

He almost gets away with it.  There are small tells, of course, but it’s not like Seto’s ever really talked to either of them much outside of card games; how could he tell Atem isn’t quite that prone to sass, or to show glimmers of anger (mostly on behalf of others) quite so readily?  Hell, how would he know Atem isn’t half as much into cute things as Yugi, or that the way the body dresses is 100% Yugi, pseudo-capes aside?

The jig is up, eventually, because Yugi literally physically cannot keep up The Pharaoh Voice(tm) because honestly, it starts hurting to do after a while, and has to admit that, sorry, his other self is Just Not Into You Like That, Seto.  And then Yugi, dear, sweet Yugi, does the one Cardinal Sin that Seto can’t stand: he sympathizes with him.

It hurts, doesn’t it, he asks.  To be ignored by someone you try your best to reach out to, to gain acknowledgement from?  It’s even worse when you’re only seen as a weak meat puppet for the person that person really wants to be with, you know.  But you still want to duel with someone today, yes?  Then Yugi will be your opponent, Seto.  And even if you never reach out back for him, he’ll make sure you acknowledge his skill as a duelist.

Fast forward, card games happen, Yugi wins--not him and his other self, Yugi--and Seto’s like “well, fuck me” internally, because he is Realizing Things and does not how to deal with it.

(Later, at home, this conversation effectively happens:

Mokuba: So, how was your ~*~date~*~, big brother~? Seto: *grabs briefcase of cards, looking haunted* Yugi’s hot. Mokuba: What?  O.o Seto: *starts going through cards, looking for better card synergies for deck, still looking haunted* Yugi’s hot.)

[bitchlessdino]

hello! 🤍 can i request a bad boy type wonwoo having a soft spot for also a cold type reader?

like they always acting so cold towards other people and even both of them acting like they hate each other.

and people are like "oh there is no way they can date", but wonwoo is only kind to reader and viceversa even without them noticing

Oh, and they dont even realized their feelings until reader feels jealous when they saw wonwoo with someone else and thats when they realized about it, but are afraid to said something since reader doesnt know how wonwoo will react

Kinda angst maybe, but fluff at the end

take your time btw! 🤍 it is also totally okay if is not possible, hope you are having an excellent day 🌸

Pairing: wonwoox gn!reader Genre: slight angst, fluff, slice of life Word count: 6.3k tags: mentions alcohol, childhood au, biker!wonu, frienemy!wonwoo, possible love triangle, reader called a bitch, presence of violence and imminent danger, analogy using car wrecks, mc and wonwoo stilling living with their parents as adults because that's normal ok, kinda messy, intimates kisses Summary: Hard to maintain a good acquaintanceship if it started off on the wrong foot, but Wonwoo tries to do just that, no matter how much you resent him from childhood. Now reunited as adults, you're questioning whether your negative impression of him has stuck since being away or have you grown up just enough to realize how much between the two you have changed? author note: this was collecting dust but finally she is here. just in time for wonwoo to be in my bias list 🙂

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @goblinvern @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch

You will never willingly be associated with Jeon Wonwoo. 

His mom had just happened to be someone your mom knew. Someone that she hadn’t talked to or seen in a long time. Long enough to have built their own families and have their kids without realizing it. It was as if they fell back into place. A long-time childhood friendship that quickly rekindled in a grocery store one day. From that day on, your families were inseparable. As long as they were still friends, you’d see each other every day.

“Why would I babysit some weirdo kid? I have better things to do.”

The problem was he wanted nothing to do with you.

When you met him the first time, you were a child barely getting around to a bike without training wheels, and Wonwoo was meeting the first stages of fungal acne. He was a bit older than you were then and his mom had given him the duty to look after you, the neighbor’s kid. The neighbor’s weirdo kid.

His mom bragged to yours about how good of an older brother he was to his younger brother, Seonwoo, but that seemed that seems to be his limit. Having freshly turned a teen, it all made sense. Wonwoo didn’t know you, and all of a sudden in his growing years he’s stuck taking care of a kid he knows by association. Understandably, he’d have that teen angst.

You didn't mean to overhear. You just happened to eavesdrop behind a pillar that day in their obnoxiously nice house when you came across him and his mother talking privately. Admittedly, you hadn’t made the best impression, but you were any kid in their single digits: annoying, talkative, maybe skeptical. But you were a kid. A kid that got their feelings easily hurt.

Despite saying such hurtful words, Wonwoo listened. He treated you with care–consideration almost–following his mother's orders, but you didn't make it easy for him. Every group breakfast, every dinner, every ride to school. You became relentless. You knew how he really felt about your situation after all. Your mind was made up at that point.

If he wanted nothing to do with you, you wanted nothing to do with him. 

“Keep walking.”

Your eyes barely glaze over at the unfamiliar figure before waving off your hand as if dismissing a nuisance, which in this case was accurate. The unsolicited stranger scoffs, getting up from his unwelcome seat, hacking and spitting on the spot on the floor next to your chair. “I don’t fuck with bitches anyway.”

You roll your eyes as you shoo him away with the flick of your wrist again, then feel another unwanted presence join you in your once peaceful solitude. You tightly shut your eyes in frustration before taking a deep exhale, finding silence impossible under your circumstances. “I don’t want to hear it, Jeon.”

“I wasn’t gonna say anything,” you hear Wonwoo arrogantly chuckle, shrugging off the thick leather off his shoulders and setting them on his lap as he takes a seat.

With your back turned to him, you imagine the pristinely lit smile on his face he gives when he’s amused, a rarity in these parts with the exception of you, someone he’s known long enough to recount every blemish that once appeared on your face. He watches you finish the rest of your drink, the bob of your throat shifting before you pull the glass away from your lips. Your resting bitch face is still intact after all these years.

“Good, keep it that way.” 

Wonwoo could have chosen to keep the peace as he said he would, but it was just too easy with you. Even after you’ve left for college and come back, he acts as if nothing has changed. In his eyes, you were still that same angsty kid who always has something snarky to say when he’s around. And man, did he always have just as smart a rebuttal. “It’s just, that was the fifth guy you’ve scared off—course, the guy was a moron—but you like dying alone, Frosty?”

Frosty. The Snowman. Much unlike the jolly creature, however, you were given that name being somewhat of a cold character, particularly to Wonwoo and anything he witnesses face the wrath of your harsh but honest judgment. 

You begin getting up from your seat, scowling at the abhorred nickname, the prediction of this dinner a mistake an accurate calculation. “Should’ve known you’d run your mouth. Tell mom I’m heading to the store across the street.”

Your mother was so proud to have you back home for a period before you’d find a new place again, and she insisted on holding a small intimate gathering at bar type restaurant. That meant sharing the space with other patrons, the Jeons, and unfortunately Wonwoo, who only grew more irritating than you last remember. 

“I’ll tell her, but I’m coming with.”

The caretaker role he was bestowed upon so long ago seems to resonate with him still, insisting on trailing behind you with nonchalance. To which you answer with a brash:

“Fuck off.”

Your eyes go to the back of your skull the nth time tonight before you’re off on your stroll, noticing the annoying scrap of Wonwoo’s heel following behind you after he waves your mom and the rest of the party farewell. You ignore him, darting towards the antique shop that warms your stomach with nostalgia, hearing the wind chimes clang when you enter with a cool musk breeze to follow.

“That all you have to say to me? Even if you hate me, there has to be some…sentiment.” 

You finger through the old hardcovers, eyes scanning over the aged wood of the shelves until they move on to the glossy wood of the cuckoo clocks on the walls. “Not even a little bit, Jeon.”

There’s the breathiness of his scoff that lingers in the musk air. He crosses your arms, the leather rubs loudly against itself. “Well, that’s sad to hear,” he responds, not sounding sad at all.

“Don’t you have an actual sibling to bother? Why are you being a nuisance to me?”

He simply shrugs. “Seonwoo isn’t back from his work-study just yet. Plus he’d be happy to know I kept you company.”

Unlike Wonwoo, Seonwoo was actually tolerable, pleasant even. If you were envious of Wonwoo for anything, it was having a nice little brother like Seonwoo. You weren’t exactly close but he was a nice kid, a lot nicer than Wonwoo anyway, and not at all that annoying kind of nice that chirps every two seconds.

You sigh. “Now that’s actually sad to hear.”

“I knew you’d say that. You always liked him better than me.”

Only because you never liked me in the first place.

“Mmhmm.”

“Oh my god, Wonwoo?”

A shrill voice beckons from the store entrance, an older version of a girl from your adolescence runs towards you both. “I thought I heard your gorgeous voice. Gorgeous face as well as always, how are you?”

Gina also grew up in the same neighborhood you both did and was typically nice, but around Wonwoo, she seemed to lose all train of thought since all her eyes could train on was him. She bats her eyelashes the same flirtatious way several years ago, and instinctively her body is drawn to him like mosquitos to blood, drinking in masculine appearance for all its worth.

If you were anything like her, you’d get it. Wonwoo is an attractive man by society's standards, but the truth of the matter is you can’t stand him. And you know deep down he can’t stand you. His fake politeness isn’t fooling anybody. Okay, that is a lie. His fake politeness doesn’t fool you, but his limitless charm made everyone else weak in the knees.

“Good, good.” He nods cordially, a smile drained from his face only leaving a straight stare, eyes only landing on Gina momentarily before they return to you.

Gina finds his gaze’s target before the light is slightly dimmed from her initially bright eyes. “And you too. Oh gosh, you must’ve got back too. Can you believe we’ve both graduated from college?”

You wonder if she does, considering you did graduate from the same university.

“Yeah, it’s…crazy.” You answer, sounding unintentionally sarcastic.

Gina awkwardly chuckles, eyes back on Wonwoo as if they never left. “All we need is Seonwoo and it’s like the musketeers again, huh?”

Hardly the musketeers when she only ever stalked Wonwoo the entire time. You’re surprised you didn’t find she didn’t follow him all the way to the bathroom too.

Wonwoo’s cold expression is a steel cage that lacks interest. He blindly nods, mumbling “sure,” and not giving any other sign of continuing the conversation.

“Well, you guys should totally make it to my housewarming party. I’m inviting all the other guys from the neighborhood. Invite Seonwoo too! It’ll be a nice way to catch up.”

“We’ll think about it,” Wonwoo answers, giving her another curt nod.

“I’ll be really, really grateful if you did.”

There are stars in her eyes, like a treat is dangling in front of it, that treat being a six-foot body of steel and perfect Wonwoo.

 “Right,” he grunts.

She finally waves you both goodbye before making it past the glass doors with a quirk in her step.

You continue to peruse the rest of the store, picking up that one wooden statue that’s never been sold, or if it has, it keeps getting returned. It makes you wonder if it’s cursed. “Just reject her already and let her move on. Even I feel sorry for her.”

“I’m not ready for the aftermath of all that.”

You really have to unlearn that eye roll of yours. You could tell it’s giving you a headache. “Of course you aren’t.”

“You’re not going, are you? The thing she mentioned?”

“This the first time you met me? Of course, I’m not going. You are?”

He shrugs. “A party never hurt anybody.” 

“Without an address?”

He pulls out his phone with a notification as clear as day, Gina’s Instagram handle ushering him with details of where the party whereabouts. “Who said I didn’t have an address?”

“She really needs to find a hobby.”

Wonwoo chuckles, tucking the phone back in his front pocket. “Ready to head back now? Unless you want to look through the store a second time.”

You groan. “Stop policing me. I’m going home.”

“I’ll take you.” 

You raise your brow. “On your fucking death trap? No thanks.”

He scoffs, crossing his arms, the leather of his jacket speaking out of turn again. “You say that as if people aren’t begging to the back of my Harley.”

“Only people with a death wish.”

That goes on for some time until you make yourself walk the mile before your feet give out. Wonwoo obviously is the first with a smile on his face before he forces you to get the rest of the couple miles on the back of his bike, which was admittedly prettier in person than the photos your mom showed you. 

There’s a bitter taste in your mouth as you get on—no doubt regret—questioning the proximity. “Hold on,” he says, to which you answer, “fat fucking chance.”

Your spiteful words are wasted as you find yourself tugging on him as you speed off on the vehicle from hell on the freeway.

“You’re an asshole!” You scream from your lungs.

“And I told you to hold on!” He screams back, a wide smile on his face you have no way of seeing.

You desperately wrap your arms around his torso, your life flashing before your eyes like a movie. All you hear is the wind in your ears while the traffic lights are hardly visible through your tightly shut eyes. You feel your soul leave your body, thinking nothing but the idea of an afterlife. If there was one good thing about the predicament you’re in, it’d be that he can’t see the terror in your eyes. He doesn’t know how much you want to scream bloody murder.

Before you know it, you arrive home safe and sound, the gas stopping at the curb of your house. He abruptly uses the bike break and you crash against broad shoulders, and you exude bumbling idiocy as you cling to him like a baby with separation anxiety. Oxygen finally enters your brain and you recognize your compromised position, forcing your grip off of him. You unbuckle and shove his helmet into his lap as you get off, a permanent scowl on your face. 

“Fuck you.”

“Glad to see you haven’t changed, Frosty.”

You don’t forget that encounter back then and you never get a chance to with your mom finding any excuse to see the Jeons day after day since your arrival. If that perfect apartment with affordable rent were to drop at your feet at a perfect time just when you so desperately needed it, it’d be now.

“Bring that in over next door. The Jeons will be thrilled to see their fridge stocked. And remember I’ll be gone until the morning.”

“We just gave them homemade wine yesterday. Mom, just because they live next door doesn’t mean we always have to plan to meet. We see them anyway.” You grab the cumbersome container of whatever it was anyway and hold it to your side like like a football, a strained expression on your face.

“You need to understand the value of lasting relationships. That’s why you’re still single, honey.”

You roll your eyes, groaning as you trod off, not wanting to start up another one of lectures why you're in your mid-twenties room with hardly any men in your books let alone in your court. Better off facing Jeon Wonwoo again than that, you guess.

You knock on their familiar white door, awaiting an answer from the other side. Soon enough you hear a masculine voice, but a voice that isn’t quite Wonwoo’s. The boy's fresh face on the receiving end piques your interest, an expression telling of a life of light and ease. Seonwoo stares back at you with a smile before politely waving. “It’s good seeing you! Been a minute.”

You find yourself returning a gesture, relaxing your arms. “It has. Mom wanted to send things over. Again.”

“Of course. Come in.”

You leave the box of goods in their fridge, feeling the presence of the younger Jeon follow behind you like a benevolent puppy. “Did you get in yesterday?”

“This morning. Early flight.”

You grin. “Singapore doing you good, I see.”

“Nothing like home though.”

You softly chuckle, “Yeah, there isn’t.”

Your conversation is cut short with another family coming down the stairs, one that looks ready to leave. They meet your eyes in amusement and his steps begin to falter in turn. “I saw you yesterday.”

“Don’t you dare make a joke about me missing you. It wasn’t funny any of the first five times.”

He’s smug as expected, entertained by the fact you’ve kept count. “I won’t, but it won’t make it any less true.”

You scoff. “Live in reality for once in your life, Wonwoo.”

“I will when you do.” He comes to the kitchen—briefly passing by you to do so and grazing your forearm—to fill a glass of water and downs it, his signature jacket thrown over his shoulders. He let out a refreshed sigh in your direction and put it away as soon as he finished. “I’m leaving now. When you change your mind about missing me, I’ll be at Gina’s party. Might actually find some fun there while you’re at it.”

The door closes behind him dramatically and your attention is right back on Seonwoo, the successful bystander. “Your brother is annoying.”

The young man smiles, finding the nostalgia in that small event. “Reminds me of the good old times.”

“Well, I should get going.”

“You’re going to the party too?”

You shake your head. “Not the slightest bit interested. Just trying to keep myself busy while I’m still in town.”

“Plan on leaving already? You just got here.”

“I can’t live on my parents forever. Need to make a living of my own you know.”

He softly laughs, a warm light enveloping his presence. He always seems to emit pure joy. Like there was nothing that could ruin this kid's day. “Nice to see you haven’t changed. Still self-reliant.”

You can’t help but smile back, “… Wouldn't be me if I wasn’t. I'll see you later, kid.”

You walk back home and go on with the rest of your afternoon by carrying on the duties of a college graduate with no job: endless job hunting. You let yourself go on that way for an hour, already bored by rereading your applicant details and sending in copies and copies of cover letters and documents. Your eyes have started to see stars shooting from either corner, warning signs of mental fatigue.

Shaking the numbing feeling, you shut off your laptop and notice the time on the clock. In the back of your mind, you’re remembering that party Wonwoo ended up going to. These parties weren’t by any means rare, but it had been some time since you let yourself give into environments as such. You said you wouldn't go but in dire situations of weary silences, perhaps it would hurt to take a second in a new subsubspace. Something to take off the edge of the weight of your undetermined future.

Against your initial better judgment, you force yourself out of that house to enter that very party you said you wouldn't go to. So like Gina to make an event over a normal thing like this. You don’t put much thought into what you wear and leave the house and when you arrive late as you were, you are unsurprised by the huge turnout. Five seconds in, you’re already regretting the 10 bucks you paid via UBER to get there.

The house was so Gina. As expected of one of the daughters of the wealthiest families in town. As you enter, all you hear is music, loud and rambunctious voices and laughter, and shouts of barely adults chugging whatever concoction in those house party solo cups. It all quickly reminds you of college and high school, times in your life you were relieved to know were over.

Why did you decide to come again if you knew this was going to happen?

You try ignoring the voices that seem to recognize you, evading and walking through the place for a potential drink to buzz you out of self-consciousness. If you were going to be in a place like this, a drink was warranted by all means.

“Wonwoo, come on!”

Gina’s voice, easily distinguishable, resonates from the other end of the room and sees how her presence bounces like a kite in the wind. You look in the direction of her gaze to find the person she seeks, ultimately having Wonwoo being dragged by the wrist, his hair sweeping the swift breeze of her force.  You were a bit relieved to see him, someone who is more similar to you in ways you’d never willingly admit.

You feel the urge to approach, curious how he’ll handle this one, but intentions all change of a brisk move, changing setting immediately. One second Gina looks up at him with doe eyes that speak longing and ache, another second her arms are looped around his neck and she pulls his lips against hers, massaging against them naturally as if rehearsed. Your feet stop, watching the unsightly scene like it’s a car crash as if in slow motion, taking you only a second to realize he hasn't yet let go.

Slowly then quickly, your chest pulls up like a marionette doll before it drops in a lump, repeating until the sound of your heart is rapidly pounding into your skull. You don’t understand it, but you don’t want to either. Swiftly, you duck back and turn your head in the other direction, having seen enough.

Then panic ensues.

People are harder to brush through than you realize. Colliding each one was like speed bumps in your way of a smooth departure. You were bound to have one person take a drunken offense to your rash movement and there it was: a subtle push that led to a spilled drink that stains the shirt of a man big enough to frighten children if he approached.

“Watch the fuckkk ya goin’!”

You don’t bother with the importance of apologizing or even acknowledging him. You realize it too late when he pulls at your collar back towards him, strangling you at the throat.

“S…stupid bitch can’t even see…fucking ruin my—hic—deink”

Your hands come around his grip, attempting to pry him off. “L-let me go. The fuck?”

“The fuck you say to me piece of shi—ah!”

He finally releases you when Wonwoo appears from behind him, tossing him out like an old ragdoll with no weight. The drunkard comes crashing down to the hardwood floor and before he realizes the cause of it, said cause whisks you away with his gril looping around your wrist.

“You’re going home right the fuck now,” Wonwoo grumbles, dragging you out of other guests' way and right out of the door, once again leading you to his motorcycle. “Bike now.”

“Wonwoo, what the fuck—“

“You aren’t an idiot. You knew what was gonna happen if I hadn’t stepped in. Now get on before fee fi fo fum finds out we left.”

“I’m not getting on that death trap again!”

His glare pierces right through you. “I know you'd rather be at home than here. Especially with the probability of becoming a statistic. Get on.”

He is right for the most part and even you’re seeing through your nonsensical defiance. Reluctantly, you follow his lead, knowing he’s left you with no other choice. You endure another near death experience, this time clutching on to him less resistantly unlike last time all the way back home. It is when you’re at the foot of your door you only realize the keys that were supposed to be in your pocket but left on the kitchen counter instead.

“Shit.”

Wonwoo quickly puts the pieces together. “No key?”

You shake your head, embarrassed slightly over your feeble appearance. “No, and mom won’t be back until the morning so I’m screwed.”

“Alright. You’re sleeping over.”

You scoff looking back at him, wondering whether he’s in the right state of mind to make that call. “You’re kidding.”

“Not unless you’re okay slumbering at the footstep of your door.”

Another choice made of your hands. You discouragingly follow after him as he unlocks the door across the street. Seonwoo was evidently still home with his loafers by the foot of the door but dead asleep upstairs in bed. 

“You take my bed. I’ll take the couch,” he offers nodding in the direction of the living room.

“No thanks, I’ll take the couch.”

He groans, giving that irritated look. “Don’t be difficult and just sleep in the damn bed.”

You huff, strutting over towards the couch. “Sleep in your own damn bed, Jeon. Stop treating me like you’re my babysitter.”

He follows after you, crossing his arms like an annoyed mother, “You’re really gonna be like this?”

“I’m not being like anything.”

“You know what?” He grabs the throw pillow off the couch, “Fine. We’ll share the couch.”

“Excuse me?” Your eyes narrow back at him.

The smug smile on his face says it all, knowing there was no rebuttal to follow. “Neither of us will take the bed, we’ll both will take the couch.”

Before you can argue, he ascends the stairs for more bedding and comes back to toss you a blanket and pillow. He keeps one of each for himself, sprawling on the other end of the massive couch, gesturing you to do the exact same. Cautiously, you mirrored his image, crawling under your borrowed blanket. Despite your feet not touching, you couldn’t help but feel suffocated by the close proximity, forcing you to crunch up your legs and bring your knees close to your chest. 

Wonwoo’s eyes drop in place, nuzzling into his thick blanket. “Good night.”

“Whatever.”

He softly scoffs with a smile, basking in the silence. Meanwhile, there was you, wondering why you listened to his instructions so willingly. You sigh, your eyes glued to the ceiling counting every bump and curve of its textured surface. 

“This is stupid it’s literally 10 pm”

“Sounds like bedtime.”

You peek back at him, his eyes still closed. “You did not go to a party to plan on sleeping at 10 pm.”

“You don’t know what my plans are. Sleep now.”

“I could’ve handled it, you know,” you argue.

“I bet you could’ve,” he responds dryly. “Wasn’t gonna take that risk though.”

“I’m serious…you didn’t have to, especially since…”

“What?” 

“You know,” you take a moment to form the words, “whatever that was with Gina.”

You hear him scoff, shifting on his side of the couch. “Nothing was happening with Gina.”

You let out a parched laugh, in disbelief of the words leaving his lips. “Wow, that lie comes so easy, does it?”

“Believe what you want. It’s not what you think anyway.”

“You’re so…obnoxious,” you sputter.

“Thank you.”

“So when did that happen? You and Gina?”

He huffs hot air out of his nose.“There’s no me and Gina. I don’t know what you saw, but…it’s nothing.”

“You were kissing.”

“You could call it that.”

“For a while,” You add.

“Just enough for her to find closure.”

“And did she?”

“Saved your ass before I could find out.”

You have no response to that and you let the silence take over for a few minutes. After those few minutes, Wonwoo was the one to break the peace.

“You asleep yet.”

“No, it’s not even 11,” you answer exasperatedly. 

“Well, I'm tired.”

“Go to sleep then.”

“You should sleep before I do.”

“Why?”

He shrugs, “I'm supposed to take care of you. It’s what your mom would want.”

“Why? I'm a grown adult.”

“I don’t think an explanation is needed.”

“Ever heard of personal space?”

“Make some smart decisions and I’ll consider it.”

“You’re such a dick,” you grunt, turning away from view.

“I’m only trying to protect you.”

This shit again. You pushed yourself up from the couch to sit up, fuming in his direction. “Because your mom asked. Okay, I get it, but you’re not obligated to anymore because I’m your mom's friend’s kid. Just stop.”

“That’s not why–”

“Stop lying–”

“I’m not fucking lying,” he says matching your stance. His gaze meets yours in anguish, urging you to drop it. 

You scoff, lying back down in a sleeping position with your back turned towards him. “Whatever.”

“...Despite popular belief, I’m actually concerned about you sometimes.”

“I guess…I don't entirely find that hard to believe.”

“Thank you. It’s not like I hate you.”

“Sure,” you answer, voice basted in sarcasm.

“I don’t.” You hear his body shift back down on the couch, finding comfort between the leather cushions.

“Then why are you such a dick.”

He sighs. “Sorry.”

“That’s all you have to say?”

“...Sorry.”

You ponder to yourself, wanting to turn back the clock to the earlier conversation for unknown reasons. You turn your body, seeing how his body mimics your body seconds ago, back turned, eyes closed, and facing the couch. “So if not Gina–”

“There’s no one,” he cuts off, “I mean, I'm not seeing anyone.”

It reassures you. Not that it should’ve. “Okay. I believe you.”

“Okay.”

You’re unsure when you drifted off, you only remember it being mid-conversation that your vision started to blur, followed by darkness and soon the light of the following morning. You wake up in Wonwoo’s house unexpectedly alone, quiet enough to hear the sound of a pin dropping. You enter the kitchen, parched, and you find a plate of food. You approach cautiously, catching a glimpse of the note, immediately catching on to why it was so damn empty. 

Went to get stuff done. Keep yourself entertained for a bit. - Wonwoo and Seonwoo

With an impish grin, you quickly run your fork over and over into the balanced meal and nourish your body, but slow down as your subconscious reminds you of last night's events. It wanders to your impulse to attend a party out of sheer boredom, stumbling upon an unexpected scene, before immediately trying to escape it before you are caught. The kiss becomes a scene stuck on replay, playing the image like a broken record. You did not black out, though you wish you had, considering your uncalled-for badgering of Wonwoo’s relationship status you shouldn’t have cared less about. Yet do.

You try bruising it off if you can help it, quick to leave, and relieved to find your mom home to let you in. Your day begins a new, and with a new day, she already has stuff for you to do. You’d be annoyed if you weren’t so grateful to be let back in home, remembering to grab your keys this time as you left the house again following her request for grocery shopping. 

You drink in the town for the first time since being back, questioning yourself why you hadn’t done it earlier. The block isn’t that different since you left, perhaps more greenery and flowers, but otherwise everything looked the same. Same old town, same old stores, the only thing difference was the people. Fine lines got deeper, toddlers now taller, and you now a stranger. Even the grocery store has changed managers, one adolescent bag boy at a time.

Even long finished with grocery shopping, you’re still wandering the center of town, circling in steps of the alternating tiles of the ground. For a moment, you free yourself from your thoughts, your worries, your ambitions, and live in the moment. It had been so long since you felt like this. You expected the feeling to emerge in college but that had been just another thing on your plate and suddenly you’re reminded of Wonwoo. Knowing him, he’d like this sight of you, proud to see you experience another emotion for a change.

Then your eyes flit back to the scene several meters from you. He reappears in your vision just as he has in your thoughts, only now Gina embracing him, squeezing the life out of him just as the life is squeezed out of your chest. He meets your eyes, his pupils expanding, before lightly pushing the poor girl off of him, but not in enough time to stop you from trying to escape again.

“Hey!”

You ignore him, letting your feet take you where it guides you. You’re blind to the incoming obstacles, brushing past pedestrians, shoulder everybody you meet, and you barely register the busy road before your feet make an unexpected halt. You hear the blaring honks until you’re pulled out, face crashing into their shoulder, arms coming around your in strong enclosure.

“Are you stupid? Why are you running into oncoming traffic?”

You shove him off, heart beating louder in your chest than any bike ride he’s taken you on has, and you’re seething in an emotion that you never expected to be in. Never in this lifetime at least. “Wonwoo just stop. Please.”

“I’m not doing anything. I don’t get why you’re trying to push me away.”

“I’m just sick of this. Of you. I can’t do this.”

“Why? Why? What do you think this is?”

“Just, leave me alone, Wonwoo.”

He sees you trying to walk out on him again and he doesn’t let you. Taking you by your arm, he pulls you towards him, leaving only the width of your forearm as his gaze pierces right through you, brimming with a mix of concern and utter anger. Frustration. Impatience.

If there was one thing about Wonwoo, he may have looked like he came from an anger management class, but he did manage it well. When he didn’t, your feet would feel glued to the concrete, frozen in the fire of his eyes, for once fearing what the man had to say.

“You know what? No. I’m not letting you do this? I don’t understand what’s going on or why you hate me so much–”

“God,” you groan, “it would be so easy if I just hated you.”

“Then what is it? You don’t hate me. You don’t like me. What? I’m wracking my brain trying to understand you–”

You don’t let him finish. You aren't sure what was in the breakfast you had today but you find yourself pulling him by the collar to meet his lips only to push him away in that instant, barely a whisper of his presence in your mouth. You clamp your hand over your mouth before finally treading away shocked by your actions, scurrying away.

He doesn’t follow you and you don’t blame him. You retrieve your once-abandoned groceries from the intersection to then find your way home. Rain is close to follow, drenching from head to toe. As if things couldn’t get any worse.

When you get home, you’re alone once again. The door shuts with a clang and you’re left in your self wallow, regret burning the back of your throat. Your back slid against the wood, a deep exhale expelling from your lungs. “So that’s what’s wrong with me.”

Like clockwork, you feel a knock erupt from the same door. Conceding to whatever was on the other side, you brush yourself up from the ground and turn the knob, only to be taken aback. Wonwoo, wet like made from glass with his locks swept over his head, stands before you panting. On either hand is a bundle of flowers barely protected in the cellophane it came with when he bought them and his cell phone he’s death gripping in his hand, no doubt damaged by the rain.

You blink back at him, lips parting in confusion. “Wonwoo…You’re wet.”

“Likewise.” He invites himself in and sets the flowers on a table nearby, not even for a second letting his gaze stray from yours. “You left me hanging there. Kiss a guy and walk away like he means nothing?”

You shake your head in disbelief, processing this, him. “Why are you here…with flowers?”

“I really do have to spell out everything for you, don’t I?” he responds smiling.

The squelch of his shoes trod in your direction, the invisible string connecting you two shortening. Preventing your evasion, you feel the palm of his hand against your back and your lips crash in a lingering reunion. The squeak of his slippery leather doesn't make it past your ears, distracted by the heat of his lips in the clash of the coolness of his rain-stained skin. 

Your hand crawls up his neck to press him closer, feeling the strength of his arms wrap around you tighter before shutting the front door effortlessly with his foot. He lets you pin him against the door, lips tight bound to yours, and relief settles in his stomach as you show no sign of pulling away. He finds himself whispering a word of gratitude in every language, smiling against your lips. “No more excuses…I’m not letting anyone get in the way. Not even you.”

You finally break out in a smile, brushing it against his lips before reclaiming them, not minding the wet leather.

You spend the rest of the day in each other’s company. You put away the groceries before the room temperature worked against their favor and got yourselves changed out of your rain-dampened clothes, throwing them in the dryer. Even if he lived right next door, you allow him to wear your most oversized shirt after he insisted he should, watching the cotton fabric cling to his broad shoulders with the hem just hitting him at his hip bone.

Man, he’s a large man.

“Kinda snug.”

You scoff, crossing your arms in an attempt to hold yourself back. “You can get clothes next door. You’re just a few steps away.”

He grins, approaching you. “It’s raining…I could get sick.” His long arms land on either of your shoulders, reminding you of that cat that knew too much in a childhood cartoon. “You don’t want me sick…”

“You wouldn’t get sick taking two long strides to your house, Jeon,” you respond, rolling your eyes, unable to meet his.

“But you’d take care of me if I was, right?” 

You roll your eyes, accepting his advances of a hug and feeling his chin fit in the crook of your neck. “Kiss a guy two times too many and he follows you around like a stray cat.”

He grins. “You like it. Don’t act like you don’t. You probably even like my bike and you’re not telling me.”

“Okay well, no. Those are two separate matters.”

His arms wrap around you tighter before reuniting your lips, such tenderness and sweetness in his gaze as he thumbs over the curve of your cheek. “You don’t deny that other thing.”

“I thought was already point blank. You know, when I didn’t push you away, kicking and screaming.”

“Yeah, but,” he shrugs, his cheekbones only getting higher. “Hard to come by something nice from you. I want to hear it.”

You sigh, giving in. “Fine.”

Your head fit between the divide of his chest, hearing a quickened pulse underneath it. You close your eyes as your hand strokes against his back. “I have… feelings for you. Maybe for once good feelings. Just don’t get cocky about it.”

Overwashed with calm joy, he takes you tighter, inhaling the soap in your hair. “Too late.”

[goldsainz]

❝ IN MY HEAD, WE BELONG ❞

MASTERLIST!

pairing . . . art donaldson x reader

◦∘｡ﾟ. warnings . . . smut (riding, protected sex), cheating, reader’s kinda delusional, toxic behaviour, not proofread.

◦∘｡ﾟ. summary . . . all it takes is a text and a lonely hotel room.

◦∘｡ﾟ. note . . . first art fic i am beyond excited 🤭 many more to come and my requests are open so if you have any ideas feel free to leave them in my inbox!!!!!! forgot how fun writing smut was, kinda crazy to have my first art fic be smut but i hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless 💙

[ word count: 1,7k ]

You know it is wrong to long for Art Donaldson. To not have moved on, but your life is incomplete without him. You tried to find someone else, someone who can compare to him, yet there is no one like him.

He’s not yours, no, in fact he’s married now. He has managed to move on from you, he has created a life for himself and he doesn't need you. Not like you need him, anyway.

You tune in for his matches, watch him beat his opponents and then run to his beautiful wife to celebrate. They actually looked good together, seemed like a proper couple and were the perfect faces of tennis. You could not be that for Art, you're too much of a mess to even dare to be as idyllic as Tashi Duncan.

Maybe that's why it feels so good that he’s currently under you, that it's your name he's moaning and your kisses he’s searching for. Maybe that’s the reason why you feel so unbothered by wrecking a home, because if he cheats, is there even much of a home to begin with? You don't think so. 

He’s like a vice you cannot seem to quit. Even when you first broke up, it took less than two days for him to hit you up and for you to be outside his house. Nobody knows you like Art, and nobody knows Art like you. You wonder if his wife is aware of how much he dreams of you, that when he’s with her, he’s thinking about you.

All it takes is for one of you to reach out, and you both throw all dignity out the window. The measly barriers you both created collapse in a second, no words need to be said to know what the other wants. It is quite simple between you two, perhaps in a way that is too carnal and not emotional enough. 

That is why, for some reason you don’t care enough to think about, he’s in your hotel room. 

You’re in New York City, alone in a hotel room that feels too big for just one person. You tried to go to a bar, tried to mingle with people in hopes of making your life less lonely. For just one night, at least.

It is not intentional that Art is also in New York, in fact, you’ve tried to steer clear of him and his overbearing presence in your life. It has been months since your last conversation, which consisted of him saying “Happy birthday” and you answering “Thanks”. 

You go back to your hotel room after your attempts at not being alone fail miserably. It is partly your fault, because you always end up in the same vicious cycle of comparing the men you meet to Art. No one can compare to him, and you damn your heart for taking over and not letting you have some enjoyment. 

You’re sprawled out on the bed, wearing your pajamas and scrolling mindlessly through your phone. You consider going to sleep, but something inside you tells you to stay awake and you receive your answer in the form of an imessage notification.

Art (Do NOT contact)

Hey, I heard you’re in NYC.

You

Yeah.

Art (Do NOT contact)

Wanna meet up?

You

Why?

Art (Do NOT contact)

Don’t know. 

Just missed you.

You

You can’t just say that.

Art (Do NOT contact)

I know. 

Are you free right now?

You

It’s 11pm, Art.

Art (Do NOT contact)

So? 

Send me your location.

You

[Location] 

Room 904.

Art (Do NOT contact)

Be there in 20. 

You’re thrust back into reality when he moves beneath you, hitting a spot that makes you arch your back and has you mewling. Guilt doesn’t even make its way through your mind, if anything, the scandalous nature of what you’re doing makes you wetter than you care to admit. 

Art looks up at you like you’re a goddess, a siren that he fell prey to, his eyes shine when he takes in the sight above him. Your tits are bouncing in front of his face, and he has to resist the urge to attach his mouth to one of them, but he’s too concentrated on the faces you make. 

You whine when he grabs your hips and moves you up and down quicker than before. Your hands are planted on his chest, grabbing onto whatever semblance of support you can get. You know how much he likes for you to be on top, loves it when you take control but today he’s antsier and needs to take some control back. So, he settles for tightly gripping your hips and deciding the pace of your movements.

You lean down and connect your lips with his. The kiss is sloppy, teeths clashing and your mouths open to let out a moan when the other does something that makes your toes curl. 

“Please,” he breathes out against your mouth, “Please, let me come.”

“Do you deserve it?” you ask, rearing back to look at him but you don't slow your movements either. 

“Yes, yes I do,” he pants, brows furrowing when he feels the heat in his core bubbling up.

“Only if I come first,” you say, taking one of his hands and placing it on your sensitive nub. 

Art moans at your response and his moves are hasty, rubbing you like his life depends on it. You let out short breaths at his touch, the heat inside you creeping up and ready to set off like fireworks.

He looks at your blissed out expression, how your bottom lip is between your teeth in an attempt to conceal the beautiful sounds you make. He’s tempted to use the other hand that’s on your hip to take your lip away from your teeth, but his thoughts are cut short when you clench tightly around him.

“I’m close, Art,” The blonde doesnt need to hear you say it, he knows your body like the back of his hand. 

It is no surprise when you come around him, a high-pitched moan escapes your mouth when your body shakes from pleasure. Like clockwork, Art spills inside his condom almost instantly after your release washes over you. 

He gives a few sloppy thrusts after he comes, feeling you collapse onto his chest, tired out from your orgasm. Art kisses the side of your head, heavily breathing and trying to form a coherent thought. Though it is quite hard when he is so fucked out. 

You separate yourself from his chest and press another kiss to his lips. Relishing on the closeness between you, he places his hand on the nape of your neck and keeps you in place.

After a few seconds he slips himself out of you. You whine at the loss of the fullness you felt, but he quickly shushes you with a simple kiss. It’s softer this time, sweeter than you deserve and more romantic than you’d like. 

You remove yourself from being on top of him, and lay down beside him. The pillow is soft and comforting, you keep your gaze trained on the ceiling and try to calm your harsh breathing down. You hear the rustle of the bed sheets and then feel yourself being covered by them, the soft touch of Art’s hand when he handles the sheets and brushes his knuckles against your chest makes you shiver

“This was fun,” he lets out, like he just got off an amusement park attraction. 

You can only hum in response, slightly turning your head to look at him. That is your mistake, because once you take in his beauty you cannot stop doing so. It makes you want to do things you shouldn’t, say things that would ruin whatever’s going on between you two.

“How long are you staying here for?” the question takes you aback, do you want him to know you schedule? A small part of you, the rational one, tells you to lie and put this little rendezvous behind you. But the part that makes most of the decision, the one that you damn each day, makes you tell him the truth.

“Until friday,” you respond, playing with the corner of the bedsheets between your fingers.

“Okay, cool,” he says back, it’s tuesday and that leaves you with just a couple days to see the other. How badly you wish that this wasn't what your relationship was now, but you have to make do with what you have. At least until you're pulled back into reality. 

You’re not sure why but the idea of him seeking you out once more, feels your tummy with a fuzzy feeling akin to butterflies.

“Yeah,”

Time seems to stand still for a few minutes, with his hands behind his head and yours resting just below your chest. It’s as if neither of you want to break the moment that’s happening, one that has a close expiration date.

After a moment of quiet, he finally breaks the silence, “I’m glad I’m here,”

You don't know how to respond so you settle for a simple, “Me too,”

For a moment, you both just look at each other, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. It's a fleeting connection, intense yet fragile, and you know that despite it neither of you belong to the other.

“I should get going,” he tells you, sitting up from his laid down position in bed and searching for his sprawled around clothes.

“Sure,” you answer as you watch him clothe himself, intently keeping your eyes trained on his figure.

“I’ll text you,” he says when he’s done clothing himself, “We could hang out again,”

“Okay,”

He looks at you once more, and you swear you see him hesitate when he reaches for the door handle. Something inside you aches for him to kiss you goodbye, to give you that intimacy that youre no longer privy to.

But as quick as that thought crosses your mind, he’s out the door.

Art doesn't text you as he said he would. You want to be mad at him, but you know you’ll be waiting for the day he messages you, and you can tally another clandestine meeting to your board. After all, you belong eternally to him and he to you. 

[faeriekit]

Ghosts of Those We Once Knew

a phic phight fill for @silverwing013

Warnings for: implied child abuse, accidental death, dead parents

**💚**

“Oh yeah?! And what are you going to do about it?!” Aunt Alicia snapped into the phone. 

There was a sound on the other end of the line, but Danny couldn’t make it out all the way. There was another solution, but it was…risky; it would require going into his aunt’s bedroom— a well known, forbidden domain— to pick up the only other phone hooked up to the landline. 

…There was no other time to find out what Aunt Alicia was putting off. It had to be worth the risk. Danny crept up the worn carpeting of the stairs, hoping that his sneakiness would hold up to Alicia’s discerning eyes and ears. 

Her bedroom was dark. Carpeted. …Pink. 

Whatever. Danny took a deep breath, lifted the phone off the hook, and tried not to breathe too loudly into the mouthpiece.

“You have no right to keep Daniel in your dismal, miserable, isolated hovel,” someone shouted on the other end. Danny had never heard this voice before. He sounded like someone around Dad’s age, maybe? Maybe a little…smoother, despite the blistering anger coming through the line. “You live with no human contact for nine months out of the year. You speak to no one. Do you— is Daniel even enrolled in a school? Did you get any sort of educational provisions for him whatsoever?” 

“What, so he can get cocky and blow himself up in the garage like his parents?” Alicia snapped. Danny had to clap a hand to his mouth to hide his gasp of dismay. 

“You know full well that punishing your sister’s son by restricting his access to an education and basic human companionship is not a solution to your grief for your sister. You are out of your mind.”

Aunt Alicia’s voice got low. Aunt Alicia’s voice got mean. She sounded like how she looked when Danny had fumbled the water pail from the well or stepped two steps too close to the rhubarb patch out back. “Vladmir Masters, you listen here,” Aunt Alicia muttered. “That boy is everything left of my sister in the whole damn world. He is not going anywhere. Do you understand? Not for you to fill his head with her stupid husband’s supernatural hoo-ha, and not for you to snatch up and teach himself how to kill other people the way those two killed each other. Danny stays here. If you ring me up one more time, I’m going to do more than just mail dog crap to the front step of your stupid castle in Wisconsin.”

The phone cut off. It would be an innocuous end to a phone call, except Danny can hear the clatter of plastic cracking on plastic in the downstairs kitchen.

There was a moment of silence.

“Daniel Jackson Fenton, you get your butt in here right now!”

Danny jolted, heart pounding. He—he went downstairs.

Aunt’s Alicia’s lips were pursed, her eyes tight. “What did I tell you about missing all the sticks in the yard? It looks like a wreck!”

Danny felt his breath stick in his throat.

“Well?”

“Yes, Aunt Alicia,” Danny mumbled. He looked down and away. He wasn’t caught out eavesdropping, but…was this any better?

“If those sticks aren’t piled up beside the woodshed for kindling in half an hour, you can kiss your dinner goodbye.”

Danny hadn’t had dinner in three nights. He was very lucky he didn’t need to eat as much as living kids. “…Yes, Aunt Alicia.”

“So?”

…Danny went outside to collect sticks. It took until nightfall to get all the refuse from yesterday’s storm off the ground.

Aunt Alicia ate canned corn and carrots and butchered rabbit with hot sauce for dinner. Danny ate nothing.

Danny went to bed thinking about somewhere else he could go. Mom and Dad were dead—smithereens in the blast that had killed him and brought him back to life simultaneously. Jazz was in the hospital. He had no grandparents. He had no other aunts or uncles other than Aunt Alicia.

…Who was Vladmir Masters?

*

It took two days for Danny to decide to run away.

Or. Well. Fly.

He’d figured that if he wanted to find out who Vladmir Masters was, he’d need an internet connection. His cell had been on the Fenton Fone Plan™ and had been disconnected from the Fenton Family Patented Ghost-free Satellite™ for almost three months now. But, you know…what was a public library for, if not getting information?

The two-day waiting period was mostly just Danny getting his stuff together, making sure he didn’t leave anything behind, finding anything worth stealing…

…There was a picture of Mom with her big hair at graduation, a black robe thrown over her Hazmat suit. Her hair had been so big. Lots of people were beside her, including Dad, and someone with a matching hair stripe. They looked happy.

It didn’t matter that it had been Aunt Alicia’s photo. The picture had gone into his backpack next to Bearbert Einstein and a filched pocket knife.

Mom was Aunt Alicia’s sister, but Madeline Fenton had been his mom.

…Was still his mom.

Would…would always be his mom.

Danny wouldn’t cry. He wasn’t going to cry. Still, the flying and everything was still new to him. It took almost ten minutes to get himself off the ground without floating off willy nilly.

It took another half an hour to remember how to go through walls.

By the time Danny fell (as in actually, literally, leaned up against the wall and then realized he’d not made contact the way he’d expected to) through the house wall, it was almost eight at night. Aunt Alicia was still listening to Prairie Home Companion downstairs on the radio.

Whatever. He was out of there. He was sure he looked crazy—his hair was white, which was almost impossible to hide—but all he had to do was get out of there fast enough that no one connected one teenage runaway with a backpack to Danny Fenton.

It was fine.

It was all going to be fine.

…And if there wasn’t someone who’d help him. Well. Being homeless didn’t sound…so bad…?

…Or maybe he’d just squat in the burnt out ruins of Fentonworks. That sounded fine too.

*

Morning broke. Danny ended up in a tiny town somewhere in Mississippi.

A nice guy at the coffee shop gave him a cup of water and told him where the local library was. A librarian plugged her login details for him on a public computer, and Danny was able to look up one “Vladmir Masters”…

…CEO and owner of DALVco, millionaire, and Green Bay Packers megafan.

Holy crap.

Like… There were hospital wings with his name on them. Charities operating out of his company. Every picture of the man was perfectly taken in perfect lighting with perfect suits and precise smirks and bright-white magazine article paper.

Danny went back up to the librarian. “Do you have any articles on…uh…Vlad Masters?”

The librarian smiled warmly. “Ah, school project?”

“Sure,” Danny lied, milk on his tongue.

Vlad Masters was a self-made millionaire. He lived in a castle in Wisconsin that used to be owned by a dairy empire kingpin. He went to—

Danny read the line again

—He went to the same college as Mom and Dad. The year looked right, too. They might have even graduated in the exact same year. If only Danny could still check Dad’s college ring in the bottom of their junk drawer.

Wisconsin. Vlad Masters lived in Wisconsin.

…Danny was really lucky he was never all that hungry anymore.

Danny got another cup of water at the coffee shop, washed his face in the bathroom, and got ready to fly another night.

He was no sextant, but he could probably figure out how to get to Wisconsin after a couple of hours of flying, and a little time to gauge the sky.

It would be easy.

…Danny’s white-topped, pale face stared back at him from the restroom mirror.

It had to be. It would have to be easy.

*

So, a cheese castle looked a lot like a regular castle.

Danny squinted up at the stonework. Nah, that looked like…a castle. That being said, it looked more specifically like the castle he was looking for—the one that had been featured in Vlad Masters’s house tour in Architecture Daily magazine two years ago.  

Same…roof bits. Same big door. Danny swallowed. Same…tower? Were there better words for these? There were definitely better words for all the tricky stone bits in the castle.

Whatever. Danny was praying that the man was actually home today, as opposed to flying across the country on some kind of business trip. Rich people did business trips, right?

Danny floated up to the front door. There was no doorbell.

…Danny bit his lip. Okay. So there was no doorbell. There was a very large, brass door knocker. It looked kind of like a big monster face, with a ring held in its teeth.

The knocker was just high enough off the ground that Danny had to float to get there. Lifting it was a struggle.

When it knocked, the whole door buzzed with sound.

Danny waited.

…He waited.

And…Danny waited.

No one came.

Danny picked at the skin of his lip. What if he just…went in?

Like. It was a big house. Maybe Vlad Masters just hadn’t heard him at all? Maybe he was just…in the basement or something…?

Danny paced midair. On one hand. He’d come all this way. He had to follow through. He had to see if there was…something. Anything. Anything at all—anything that could possibly connect Masters to his family.

Any connection that wasn’t Aunt Alicia would be worth breaking and entering.

On the other hand. Home invasion was and would remain illegal.

Danny grimaced.

He…stuck his head through the door. 

There was a hallway on the other side. A little end table. A guest book. 

…Okay. Danny slipped through the door. He was breaking and entering now— or at least…entering. 

Inside was dark. Gloomy. Comfortable, sure— lots of soft furnishings, curtains, couches, pillow, lounging things— but very…opaque in atmosphere. 

He was glowing, he noticed. That probably was pretty bad on the “trying not to get caught” scale. 

There was no one upstairs. Danny drifted through room after empty room and up into floor after empty floor. There was a kitchen, and the food therein were largely preserved items. There was nothing in the fridge. 

Danny’s stomach cramped. There was no one here. 

…Maybe he should look downstairs? 

The castle got colder the further down he went. The windows that at least allowed the minimal light that escaped through the tree cover in the castle vanished. The only light left was Danny. 

Danny floated down deeper. 

There were doors made of metal in a long, stone hallway. Each had different numbers on them. Danny followed the rows of doors.

There were wires on the floor. They were organized by color and bound by little ties, until they weren’t, and Danny eventually ran out of tangled webs of red and blue plastic to follow. 

They ended at a closed door. 

Danny hesitated. He poked his head through. 

On the other side was a ghost. 

Danny jerked back. He’d— he clapped his hand over his mouth. That was—! And sure, Danny was something like that now, but he’d never seen—!

He should leave. Danny should leave. 

Danny barely made it three doors down. 

Going somewhere? something asked him. Danny shivered. 

The ghost appeared on his left in ethereal white, black hair pulled behind him in some sort of half-halo. Unlike Danny, who was in something like half-hazmat, half-hoodie, the ghost wore a long, glowing labcoat, appropriate PPE beneath. 

Danny’s breath fogged up in his mouth. He flinched. “Sorr—” he tried. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I’m not supposed to be here.”

The ghost looked at him with bright red eyes. Danny floated a few steps back. Spying, are you?

Danny shook his head. “No!! No, I just— I was looking for— I wasn’t spying! I’m sorry! I didn’t know you li— died here! I’ll leave!” 

The ghost’s head tilted. For a second, Danny thought that he was going to throw a punch. And then—

You’re already here, the ghost pointed out, and opened a door. Beyond it was…something similar to a doctor’s office. An examination table with the paper on it. One of those blood pressure cuffs, attached to a printer for the readout. A sink. Sundry tongue depressors. You may as well consent to be helped. 

“...Helped with what?” Danny asked nervously, fingers flexing. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

The ghost hummed— not in the way voices hummed, but in the way high voltage sang in distant powerlines. You are newly formed, aren’t you? Most can tell a ghost’s nature from its presence alone.

Danny looked away. “Um. You know. You might be the first ghost I’ve ever met.” 

The ghost’s feet almost touched the ground. It stared down at him. It was taller than he was, and when it stared, it made Danny want to run away. 

…Truly, the ghost asked(?), and it took Danny a second to realize it was a question. 

“Maybe I died a little recently…” Danny tried, trailing off into a mumble. Was there a right answer to this? 

…I see. That would make this check-up more urgent, then. Might I encourage you to come this way? 

Danny followed him into the room. 

It felt… It looked and felt exactly like any other doctor’s appointment, excepting that the doctor involved in the process had blue skin and fangs and a hairstyle that defied gravity. The ghost still wore gloves and didn’t poke him or prod him too hard, though, so that was a bonus.

Danny got his pulse taken. (None.) Danny got his lungs checked. (Not breathing.) Danny got his resonance? looked at? Whatever that was? It was a big scanny thing that looked like an X ray and took pictures of his chest. 

The readings were real pretty, whatever they were; the whole film print was taken up with splotches of white and clear blue. It kind of shimmered when Danny tilted his head. 

You’re quite powerful for a newly formed ghost, the ghost offered, overlooking papers Danny couldn’t quite see on his clipboard. It flipped through once. Twice. You’re clearly not attached to your place of death, so that’s not why… Are you aware of any compulsions to follow an Obsession yet…?

A ghostly obsession? Danny knew what that was— it was one of his parents’ theories on why ghosts persisted after death! Was it was true? 

“Um,” Danny said, unsure. He hadn’t…had he? “Not that I know of?”

The ghost paused. It clicked its pen. It marked something down on Danny’s chart. Interesting.

Ominous. 

May I quickly test something? the ghost asked, looking up at Danny. It would only take a moment. If it does not work, there will be no other side effects other than mild discomfort and an activated flight response. 

Danny shifted. The paper crackled underneath him. “...Does it hurt?” 

No.

The ghost added nothing more. 

Danny’s…head jerked up and down. It was fine. It would be fine. 

The ghost’s hand circled his wrist. Its touch burned like fire. 

And then light, like how Danny burned away one form for another—

—Danny was left on the table, no longer weightless, no longer breathless. He was flesh. He was human again.

Vlad Masters stared back at him. 

…Huh. 

Mr. Masters— Vlad?— licked dry lips, staring at Danny, whose wrist he still held. Danny…didn’t know if he could move. Danny didn’t know if he knew how to move. 

“...Daniel?” Mr. Masters’s voice cracked. His eyes moved up and down Danny’s body, from his raggedy hair to his dirt-stained clothes to his beat-up shoes. “Daniel Fenton?”

Danny winced. “It’s just Danny,” he offered hoarsely. His throat bobbed. “You…know me?” 

Mr. Masters moved his grip to Danny’s hand, apparently moved to tears. Without the red in his eyes, he just looked…human enough. “Daniel— Danny, how did you— Are you dead? What happened?” 

Danny felt the weight of everything push down on him again, as if it had ever let up on him since the portal incident. Mom and Dad’s funerals. Jazz in the emergency room. Being resuscitated by the EMTs. Getting shipped out to Aunt Alicia’s house without warning. 

“House blew up.”

That was succinct enough, right?

The man’s face turned devastated. “I heard— I’m so, so sorry. I’m so sorry, Danny.”

…It was more concern than anyone had shown in a long time. His eyes were wet before he knew it. When he wiped his face with his sleeve, the dampness was enough to leave little streaks of mud on his face— and, ugh, he felt filthy. 

“It’s okay,” Danny lied, because it wasn’t. He pressed his sleeve to his eyes. “It’s…you know my parents?”

Mr. Masters took a deep, surprised breath. “Yes. We…weren’t in contact after we graduated from school together, but Jack always… He asked me by email to be your godfather, right before you were born. I said yes, but I have no idea if he ever filed the paperwork.” 

Oh. 

…Oh. 

There were clearly more secrets here. Mr. Masters was a ghost, and so was Danny. He lived in a giant castle that was clearly haunted, which was made obvious by the owner. He was Danny’s godfather, and Danny had never once met him. 

And he wasn’t Aunt Alicia. 

Danny sucked the spit off of his teeth with his tongue. “Can I stay here?” 

Mr. Masters made a wounded, desperate expression. “I would rather you did.” 

“Can you teach me how to be a ghost?”

The man persevered through what were clearly heavy feelings. “...If I must.” 

“Can I have dinner?” was Danny’s final question. “Like. On the regular?” 

There was a second where Mr. Masters’s eyes went red. The castle suddenly felt taut with anticipation. Fury crawled on Danny’s skin. He could feel the pressure digging in search of some way to burrow into his flesh.

And then it was gone. 

“Of course you can. You are a growing boy.”

Danny smiled shyly, barely showing his teeth. When he smiled for real in the mirror, he had fangs. It was better not to. “Cool.”

Mr. Masters nodded. And when Danny looked down at the floor, he changed his grip so that Danny could hold his hand and hop down like normal. 

“It will be alright,” Mr. Masters promised quietly. It seemed to be just as much for him as it was for Danny. “Or…I’ll take care of it. Whatever happens. You’re not alone, Danny.” 

Danny had been alone for almost half a year. It had felt like forever. “Thanks.” He sniffed. 

They walked upstairs from the basement laboratory together, in a way Mom and Dad never would again. 

[a-chaotically-small-lunta]

Okay you know that classic: person went to bed and while they were asleep they became a giant and they thought the whole thing was a dream but it keeps happening every night and their are news reports about it?

Imagine that this happens to our main character. When they go to sleep, a giant version of themself spawns in near a city. They think it’s just a dream, but they aren’t the type to just wreck things. So they just walk around the city, carefully stepping around cars and stuff. They see people running away and they think that it makes sense, they are a giant. Although they kinda wish they could interact with someone without diving for them or aggressively grabbing them. They eventually notice someone frozen in fear and they think the dream has answered their call. They lower themselves down and gently scoop the terrified person up. Remarking how cute the person is and that they aren’t going to harm them. They give ‘em a gentle kiss or gently rub the person’s head before putting them down.

They then wake up and think about how the dream was nice. Despite everyone running away, they still got to hold someone. They go on about their morning routine, until they see the news about a giant roaming a city. Spitting out their coffee they watch the clips of themself walking around the city. The news doesn’t know if the giant is friendly or not but says that law enforcement is ready if the giant returns. Our giant has no clue what to think or do in that moment and just awkwardly goes to work, where everyone is obviously chatting about it. Especially about the interaction between the giant and the one person who got snatched by them, but was let go. Our giant joins in and says that maybe the giant is friendly and just wants friends or something. To which most say maybe or perhaps that’s just how the giant plans to trick them.

Later on they go to get lunch or something, and they are so happy that their giant form looks different from them, even just slightly, as no one has put two and two together. While at lunch someone walks in with a crowd of people asking them questions, they look embarrassed and our giant realizes that this person was the person they picked up last night and that they are being hounded for questions. Luckily the store owner kicks out everyone bugging the person because they are too loud and he doesn’t like the news people for whatever reason. They thank the owner and sit down nearby our giant who is feeling very embarrassed right now. They ask what’s bothering the person and they just sigh and explain that ever since they froze last night and got scooped by a giant, people haven’t stopped bugging them about it. People wanting to know their thoughts, what it felt like, how’s they feel, and so many more questions. The giant just nods and says that they did get a unique experience and the giant probably did too, before chuckling. The person smiles and starts asking the giant questions. Eventually a bond is made before they have to leave to get back to work.

That night the giant wonders if they’ll become a giant again and what the law enforcements will do to them. They told themself before falling asleep to be careful again, just in case and to be a gentle giant.

Who knows what happens next. Perhaps they keep becoming a giant every night and interact with people who slowly want to meet with them. Maybe the person they first picked up comes back and they bond even more, to the point they share their secret with them. Maybe every night they are put near a new place to explore. There are endless possibilities for it and I find that super cool tbh. To be a giant while asleep and a person while awake, and no one can stop or capture you cause you “de-spawn” when you wake up. It’s perfect…until they find out your secret that is.

[dreamingofep]

Forbidden Love pt. 2 💔❣️

Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Reuniting with Elvis was supposed to be the highlight of your summer, but with unresolved tensions between you two, things aren't what they seem. [Fem!Reader]

TW: Cussing, TENSION, kissing, grinding, fingering

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: Hello everyone! I had originally wrote all of this part out a few months ago because this is where the idea sprang from! There’s so much more to uncover and this part definitely needs to be in Elvis’ perspective later on so be on the lookout for that. 🤭

Here are the songs I included in this part too! Listen if you haven’t heard “I’ll Never Let You Go (Little Darlin’)” It’s so sweet and I just pictured Elvis singing this soft and low on the piano. 🥹

If you'd like to read any of my other fics, start here or Ao3!

Hope you enjoy and message and comment what you think.

September 21, 1958

Your heart was heavy as you walked up the driveway. The house was illuminated by the lawn lights and the hum of people inside grew the closer you got to it. Graceland was always so beautiful, especially at night. The large Corinthian columns were so stunning and made the whole house stand out. It was made for Elvis you thought. No ordinary man could live here. It had to be someone as grand and special as Elvis Presley was. 

You walk up the steps to the front door and take a deep breath. Emotions were flowing through you today. You were going to say goodbye to one of your favorite people. Elvis was always there for you, in good times and bad, he would always listen. He was supposed to be gone for two years in the army. It couldn’t have been a worse time to be drafted. He was at the top of all the charts and his career was just taking off. You two had gotten close the last two years or so. You think it was a way to ground Elvis and keep him connected with the real world. You both loved to hang out with each other's family and have barbecues together. 

Now all of that was going to change. He was leaving and you knew you’d be a wreck without him. You don’t have a lot of friends as it is. But Elvis was special. There was no replacing him. You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry at this party. Elvis wanted everyone to have a good time and not think of it as his goodbye party. You took a deep breath before you decided to go in the house. You smoothed out your pale pink dress and opened the front door. 

The entire house was lively and some of the people that were standing by the stairs greeted you. Your eyes frantically search for Elvis. You wanted to spend as much time with him as possible before he left. Walking to the kitchen, you set down the bottle of champagne you brought. One of Elvis's housekeepers hugs you and tells you she’ll open the bottle for you. Someone hands you a flute already filled with champagne and you graciously take it. 

The bubbly drink danced on your tongue and went down smoothly. You squeeze your way through the sea of people and continue to search for Elvis. There had to be over fifty people crammed into the first floor of the house. You accidentally bump into a taller man and apologize for that. You decide to ask him if he knew where Elvis was. He has this awe-struck look in his eyes as he looks at you. You silently roll your eyes at him, you didn’t want to talk to him, all you wanted to do was spend time with Elvis. 

“I uhh… I don’t know. But you can hang out with me. I’m John, you’re y/n right?” He asks. You don’t have the patience to be making small talk with anyone tonight but you fear this guy won’t get the message. 

“Yeah, I am,” you say as you keep looking for Elvis and taking another sip of champagne. 

“Yeah, I’ve seen you around here. How long have you known Elvis?” He asks. You sigh unamused, you weren’t in the mood to have another one of Elvis’ friends hitting you. Maybe you would have actually given it a shot if it was another night but it was not the right time at all. Your mind was so focused on getting to Elvis. 

“Quite a while. He’s my best friend,” you say flatly. 

“Well, that’s something you and I have in common. He and I go way back. Can I get you another glass of champagne?” He asks pointing to your glass. 

To get through this conversation with you, I’m going to need ten, you think annoyed. 

“Yeah sure,” you say flatly, creeping your way in slowly to the living room. You stretch on your tippy toes to see if you can spot Elvis. He was almost always the tallest one in a crowd and you hoped you’d get a glimpse of his dark black hair. It was useless because all you see are other people’s heads and couldn’t see anything else. You huffed annoyed, time was ticking by and you hadn’t even greeted Elvis yet. 

You get tapped on your shoulder and you look up to find John with another champagne glass in his hand. 

“Thanks, see you around,” you say as you quickly push your way into the crowd and make your escape from the annoying man. 

The sound of the piano fills the living room and you just know that Elvis is the one playing in it. He did that so often at parties. He played so beautifully and loved to entertain even though it was his party. You finally squeeze yourself to the very front and see him. He looked so happy with all his friends around the piano waiting for him to burst out in song. He wore a white short-sleeved button-up that was ruffled on the chest and tucked into white pants. He cut his hair the shortest you’d ever seen it for boot camp but he still looks so handsome. 

His attention gets torn from his friends and he catches a glimpse of you. His face lights up when he sees you and instantly gets up from the piano bench. 

“There’s my favorite girl! Where have you been?” He asks excitedly, scooping you up in his arms and squeezing you tight. You can’t help but smile and giggle softly as you feel how happy he was to have you here. 

“I’ve been looking all over for you! You’re impossible to find in your own house,” you giggle.

He gently sets you down and looks at your outfit, taking your hand in his. “And you look like a million bucks too!” He says twirling you around. “Thank you for coming. I’m so glad you’re here!” He says gleefully.

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it!” You say with a smile.

“Perfect timing too. I was just about to play some songs, and you get to sing with me,” he says cheekily, pulling you onto the piano bench with him. You get extremely nervous, you do not like to be in a crowd of people and have the main focus on you.

“Oh no no no Elvis please I cannot sing,” you say nervously, trying to scoot away from him.

He wraps his arm around your waist and keeps you right next to him.

“Oh no, you’re not running away from me. You just got here! Come on, please sing with me. I love it when you do,” he pleads. He looks at you with soft eyes and a cute cheeky smile. God, you couldn’t say no to this man even if you tried.

You sigh defeated, “Okay fine. Only for a few songs, and then I’m hiding in the corner again,” you say jokingly, taking another sip of champagne. He lets out a big boisterous laugh, bringing his hands to the piano’s keys, and plays a few chords to warm up. He plays so effortlessly, stretching his long fingers across the ivories. 

Well it’s one for the money

Two for the show

Three to get ready now go cat go

But don’t you step on my Blue Suede Shoes…

He radiates so much energy when he sings. There’s no way anyone could have a straight face while he performs. A huge smile forms on your face and you start clapping along to the beat. He bumps your shoulder to join in and you sing along with him softly. His mood is contagious and you can’t say no to him and join in. 

The longer he plays, the less nervous you become. You don’t pay attention to any of the surrounding people in the living room. Song after song, it felt like it was just you and Elvis singing to each other. Or he was just singing to you. You honestly lost track of time as he continued to play more songs and you kept drinking your champagne. And come to think of it, you lost track of how many drinks you had too. But you didn’t care, you were having too much fun singing with Elvis. He was handed a few drinks and he was drinking them too. It surprised you because he normally never drank but the mood in here was so joyful and fun, you were sure he didn’t care tonight.

Before you knew it, the living room was slowly clearing out and the house was getting increasingly quieter. People were saying their goodbyes to Elvis and telling him how much they’d miss him. Some of the guys were going to go out driving and invited you both to join them, but Elvis wanted to stay here. You didn’t want to leave either, every second you had with him was precious. 

It was past 1 am and Elvis started playing slower ballads while humming the tune. You could sit next to him for hours listening to him play. You were entranced by the way he played, how his fingers almost danced over the keys and the most melodious sounds rang out. You put down the last glass of champagne down and felt your head spin a bit. You tried not to focus on it too much and tried to draw your attention back to Elvis.

I’ll never let you go little darlin’

I’m so sorry, ‘cause I made you cry

I’ll never let you go because I love you

So please don’t ever say goodbye…

He plays the song so beautifully, letting the chords ring out fully before he sings the next line. You wish you could snap a picture of this moment and never let it fade away in your memory. Sitting here, listening to him sing a ballad as it pulls at your heartstrings. You were going to miss him so much. He wasn’t going to be down the street from you anymore. You couldn’t just stop by to see how he was. He was going to be thousands of miles away, in a different country, on a different continent. You promised yourself you weren’t going to cry, but you feel the tears well in your eyes as he finishes the song. Damn, the alcohol getting the best of you and your emotions.

Because I love you, pretty baby

I’m so sorry ‘cause I made you cry

I made you cry

Yeah, I’ll never let you go

“Cause I love you, little baby

So please don’t ever say good-bye

He finishes the song so beautifully and you both sit there in silence. A few tears were rolling down your cheeks and you don’t bother to wipe them away. He looks over at you and sees your tear-filled eyes.

“Aww y/n, what’s wrong? Why you cryin’?” He asks as he gently turns your head towards him. His thumbs gently wipe the rolling tears off of your face but that only makes it worse. You take a deep breath before speaking and try to hold it together.

“I’m just… I’m just going to miss you,” you say weakly. He instantly pulls you into his arms, your head resting in the crook of his neck. He rubs your back, trying to soothe you through your cries.

“I know, I am too. It’s going to be so different,” he admits.

“I don’t want you to go. You’re my best friend. Who am I going to talk to now?” You sob, holding onto his shirt.

“You’ll still have me. Write to me any time you want or put on one of my records when you’re lonely. Think of it as though I’m singin’ to you and only you. I love singin’ for you,” He coos. Your tears continue to pour down your face. That thought was too much. You couldn’t fathom the idea that the only way you were going to be able to hear his voice was on a record. You didn’t realize how spoiled you were that you could hear him sing right next to you any time you wanted.

You lift your head up off of him and nod your head. You look into his own tear-filled eyes and somehow his eyes look more blue and mesmerizing. Your head felt light after all the champagne but you didn’t care. Nothing could tear your focus away from Elvis right now. He wipes your tears away once more as his own fall down his cheeks.

“And what do I do if I find myself missin’ you?” He asks through sniffles.

You search for the right thing to say, not exactly sure what to say in a moment like this. You had nothing to offer Elvis. He was the man who had everything even though you both were so young. You look down at your hands, unsure what to do, and see your heart-shaped ring on your ring finger. It was something you found at a little boutique downtown. The band was gold with a black heart that had a sun and a small little diamond in the center. You thought it was cute and a nice find. You slide it off and lift it up for Elvis to see. 

“Then you take this with you. I’ll always be with you if you have this,” you say softly. He carefully takes it out of your hand and looks at it closely. He looks up at you in disbelief.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to take something so valuable to you,” you waivers. 

“No please, I insist. It’s the least I could give,” you sniffle.

He pulls you in for another hug, squeezing you tighter than he ever has before. You so desperately wanted to freeze time so you could live in this moment forever. You didn’t want to let go of him. You were terrified he would come back from the Army and become a totally different person. But you had to stop thinking that, just enjoy these last few moments with him.

“I’m gonna miss you so much,” he murmurs.

“Me too,” you say weakly.

“Don’t forget about me,” he whispers into your ear.

“Oh God I could never,” you tell him.

He breaks away from you, looking deeply into your eyes and placing his hand on your cheek. His thumb glides back and forth along your cheek and sighs to himself. You aren’t normally so close to him like this and can see so clearly how gorgeous he is. You swore his eyes sparkled when they looked at you. His nose was perfect and his skin was flawless. You watch as his eyes drift down to your lips and you do the same. Maybe you never consciously thought about it, but his lips were beautiful like the rest of him. They were full and plump with a soft pink color to them. They looked soft and pillowy almost. 

You can feel your breathing hitch in your throat the longer you stare at him. His hands tighten around your body but are still very gentle as though he’s afraid he’s going to break you. He leans in ever so slowly, biting his lower lips as he does so.

“Good, me too…I can’t forget you even if I tried,” he murmurs sensually.

The tension he is giving off makes your head spin more and you can’t wait any longer. You lean into him and crash your lips into his.

He felt like heaven. Each kiss was tender and soft and yet there was so much urgency behind it. You were right, his lips were softer than you could have ever imagined, and felt like you were kissing pillows. You can’t catch your breath as you both kiss each other with more passion. His hands roamed up and down your back, clutching onto the material of your dress. Oh, those hands, they felt so good on you. They were addictive and you wished you could feel them on your skin instead. You had no idea you needed his attention like this.

You boldly slip your hand into his shirt, feeling the soft chest hairs that resided there. He responds with a soft pleased groan into your mouth. Your heart races in your chest, not believing that this is happening right now. You felt on fire with the way he was kissing you. He was so needy and desperate for your attention as his hands kept moving along your body. He slips his tongue into your mouth and you both groan when he does so. You had never thought. You needed him like this, you were always so adamant about staying friends. Maybe things could be different…

There was a throbbing developing in between your legs and was only growing worse by the second. It was so different than other times you’ve felt this way. You had felt this way in private moments by yourself but with Elvis, it was amplified to a whole other degree. Your chest heaves and you feel yourself become more needy. You slowly stand up and try to get Elvis to do the same thing. He breaks the kiss and looks at you a little perplexed. You push him backward to the couch that is right behind the piano. He quickly sits and stares up at you wide-eyed. He smooths out his pants and spreads his legs apart slightly. Your eyes drift to his long legs and how good he looks like this. He just exuded sensuality and temptation without even trying.

You notice how his length was hard and pushing up against his pants. Oh God, you’ve never felt more needy in your life. You wanted to feel what he was like underneath you. You quickly straddle his hips and scrunch up your dress before sitting down on him. Your core rests on top of his length and the heat from him makes it hard to breathe. You let out a small groan as you feel him underneath you. The straps of your dress slide off your shoulders and you’re left looking at Elvis’ luring eyes.

You both don’t say anything, just the sounds of your labored breaths fill the room. His hands drift from your back to the front of your body, gently cupping your breasts in his hands. You whimper softly, loving the way his hands feel on you. You look down as he does this, watching how his hands consume your soft breasts and have you reeling for more. He sighs as he continues to touch you, looking up at you with an awed gaze. You needed his lips once more and leaned in to kiss him again. The kisses somehow got even better with his hands on you like this. Your arms wrap around his neck and feel his soft hair with your fingertips.

Something instinctual takes over your body and your hips begin to move on him, grinding your core onto his hardened length. A bolt of electricity runs through you as you begin to move. You had no idea something like this could feel so satisfying. You break the kiss and gasp out, needing breath more than ever. Elvis lets out a deep groan and lets his head fall back with his eyes closed. Another wave of pleasure runs through you seeing him like this. He looked so attractive with satisfaction running through both you and him. His eyes pop back open with his mouth falling open slightly.

“Oh God honey… that feels so good,” he moans.

Honey.

Oh God he had never called you that before. Hearing that come from his lips made you feel like the actual word; a sweet sticky mess.

You nod your head at him and whimper in agreement as your breathing hitches. You keep eye contact with him as your core continues to throb with every movement of your hips.

“Elvis,” you whine.

He nods his head at you, his hands slithering to your back and grabbing handfuls of your ass. He helps you grind into him harder, his hands helping your hips move back and forth onto him. You gasp loudly, loving how this feels.

“I know honey, I know,” he groans, “You feel so good on my cock,” he whimpers into your ear. 

You helplessly moan at just his words. You hold onto him tighter and move more as he helps you. The friction of your panties against his slacks made a coil in your belly form and it tightens with every move. You couldn’t get enough of him. You didn’t want to stop having him make you feel this way. He stills you and you look at him with needy eyes.

He takes one of his hands and moves it to the front of your body. He scrunches the material of your dress in his hand and looks up a you with pleading eyes.

“Can I touch you?” He asks softly. You nod your head quickly and help him lift up your dress. His fingertips graze your mound and move down to your folds. Wetness had pooled in your panties and you squirmed underneath him. Elvis moves his fingers slowly, taking his time exploring you.

“Jesus honey you’re soaked,” he groans. Your hips move with his curious fingers and moan in agreement. You feel his finger pull your panties to the side and continue to slide them through your wet folds. You cuss softly, loving how he’s making you feel. He pulls you in for a kiss again and you both moan when you feel each other’s lips. He puts more pressure on your clit, rubbing it in soft circles. Your body jolts forward with each touch and you are more breathless than you thought possible. You stare at him in awe as your pleasure builds and builds. He has a pleased smirk on his face as he watches you grind on his hand. You couldn’t imagine you could feel this good but it’s somehow possible with Elvis.

Your hands quickly work the buttons of his shirt and spread it open. You then work your way down to his pants and fidget with the button and slide down the zipper. Elvis stills you, not letting you go any further.

“Honey, wait,” Elvis sighs.

“Please, I want you,” you whimper.

“I know, so do I,” he grumbles into your neck.

“Please… please make me feel good. I want you,” you plead, grinding your hips onto him again. He lets out a loud groan, unable to denounce how good you feel. You move back a bit and your hand finds his length. You rub it softly, feeling how much heat is coming off of him and how it is throbbing from your touch. Your head spun when you felt him, you needed him more than anything. 

“Please honey, please. Make love to me,” you beg, looking up at him with needy eyes, your hands scratching down his arms. He looks at you in awe. He reacts to you like he’s never heard such beautiful words in his life. He looks like he’s feeling just as weak as you and his hand slowly comes out from underneath your dress.

His demeanor suddenly becomes sorrowful and melancholy. He lowers his gaze and shakes his head somberly.

“I can’t honey. We can’t right now,” he says low.

You can’t help but feel like you’ve been punched in the gut. Being rejected by him hurt. You could have sworn he wanted you just the same.

He can see how you’re a bit hurt and taken aback by his words.

“It’s not that I don’t want to honey. Trust me, I would love to as you can see,” he says as he glances down at his hard length. “It’s just not the right time. I don’t want you regretting this kind of thing. I don’t want it to be because I’m leavin’ tomorrow,” he explains.

“It’s not because of that I just-,” you try to insist but end up stopping yourself, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked for sucha thing,” you say embarrassed. You quickly get off of him and stand wobbly. Your head spins more than you were prepared for and almost stumble sideways. Elvis thankfully grabs you and holds you upright.

“I gotcha, it’s okay. I don’t mean to make you feel bad honey. You need to know I loved every second of that,” he says sweetly, taking your face in his hands and placing a soft, tender kiss on your lips. You sigh at the feeling once more, not wanting to forget how this feels. You gently pull away and take a deep breath.

“I guess I should be going,” you tell him.

“Oh no, you should not be driving like this. Just stay the night,” he insists.

You didn’t have any fight left in you and you just nodded your head. He keeps his arm around your waist and leads you up the stairs with him. It was a challenge walking up those stairs while the whole world was spinning. He opens his bedroom door and helps you in. 

His bedroom was warm and inviting. It smelled like him and made you want to put that scent into a candle. He turns on the lamp by his bed and you get a better view of the room. Most of his furnishings were black and there were piles of books on his dresser and on his nightstand. 

He’s such a little bookworm.

You glance at the clock on the wall and it is past two. You feel his arms go around your waist again and he steps in front of you.

“Did you want to go to the bathroom or anything? Or would you rather lie down?” He asks you.

“I’ll just lay down,” you say sleepily. He nods his head and turns to pull back the sheets for you. You reach your hand at the back of your dress as he does this and struggle to find the zipper. You let out frustrated little sighs and he turns back to face you, concerned with what you’re doing.

“Help me unzip this dress please,” you say defeated as you turn around and lift up your hair. Elvis doesn’t say anything, all you can feel is his fingers gently pull on the zipper and drag it down to the small of your back. He turns you around and he has that needy look in his eye. You reach up on your tippy toes to give him a small peck on the lips. You can feel the smile forming on his face as you do this. You step around him and go to the bed. Before stepping in, you let your dress fall at your feet and quickly get underneath the sheets. They were soft and silky and the heavy comforter made it feel extra cozy.

“I’ll sleep on the floor, honey. You let me know if you need anything,” Elvis tells you. You slowly roll over and give him a pouty face.

“No please, stay with me. You can sleep with me,” you insist. He looks like he’s going to denounce this request but you don’t let him. You hold the sheets across your chest and pull at his hand.

“Please, Elvis. I want you to sleep in your own bed before you leave,” you plead.

He lets out a frustrated sigh and nods his head.

“Okay, let me change real quick,” he says. You smile sweetly at him and close your eyes as you wait for him. The room still felt wobbly but lying down did feel better. You hear Elvis sift through his closet and walk back into the room fully changed. The shift of weight in the bed made your eyes pop back open to watch him get into bed. He was shirtless with only his underwear on. He was still hard and could clearly see the outline of his cock in these. You tried to subside the needy feeling you had for him and just focus on sleep. 

He lays down and gets underneath the sheet with you but leaves plenty of space between the two of you. You grumble annoyed, wanting him to get comfortable in his own bed.

You scoot closer to him, laying your head on his chest.

“You can get closer to me, I don’t bite,” you giggle. 

He chuckles softly to himself, “oh good I was worried about that,” he teases.

You feel his arms wrap around you as you start to close your eyes again. You had never felt so safe and comforted in someone’s arms before. 

“I’m gonna miss you,” he whispers.

“Mhmm, me too,” you slur sleepily.

“Don’t forget about me,” he says softly.

“Never,” you hum as you let the dark blanket of sleep take over.

*

The crack of sunlight shone in through the curtains making your eyes flutter open. You stretch your limbs and feel the soft silky sheets wrapped around you. Your eyes instantly pop open when you realize these do not feel like your sheets at home. 

“Shit,” you say as you sit up quickly in the bed. 

You look around and realize you’re in Elvis’ bedroom. You clutch the sheets around your chest and look down to realize you’re practically naked underneath them. Your heart hammers away, trying to scramble to remember what happened last night. 

Did we? No, we couldn’t have… you think to yourself. You feel you still have your panties on and see your dress crinkled on the floor next to the bed. You try to recollect last night’s events as best you can. You remember singing with Elvis on the piano, smiling and laughing at him. Then you remember those eyes. Those beautiful, seductive blue eyes peering into yours with an intense blazing heat… how good he felt underneath you as he moaned your name. The need that grew inside of you to have him take care of you in a way you didn’t know existed. 

But he stopped you… telling you that it wasn’t the right time. Your heart drops. That’s right, he stopped you from going any further. You sat there wishing he took care of you. Fulfilled the need he created inside of you. It still lingered in you as you sat there.

“Elvis?” You say out loud, seeing if he was still in the bedroom.

You frantically search for the clock and see it’s ten past ten. Your heart sinks again. Did he already leave? No, he couldn’t have, he would have said goodbye to you. You quickly put your dress back on and rush down the stairs.

Peeking into the dining room, the table was empty with not a trace anyone has been there. You go into the kitchen to see if you can find anyone there who might know where Elvis went to. You see one of his housekeepers at the sink rinsing off dishes. She hears you enter the kitchen and has a surprised look on her face.

“Oh hey darlin’! I didn’t know you were here!” She says excitedly.

“Yeah I stayed the night,” you say a bit timidly. “Where’s Elvis?” You ask.

She looks at you somberly, turning off the faucet and wiping her hands dry with a dish towel.

“Aww honey I’m sorry, you missed him. He left at dawn for New York. I’m sure he didn’t want to wake you. But you probably said your goodbyes last night right?” She tries to say positively.

You look down at the floor, trying to hide your flushing cheeks. Yeah, that was one hell of a way to say goodbye…

“Yes we did. I better get going. I’ll see you soon,” you tell her.

You make your way to the front door and stop dead in your tracks as you see an envelope on the side table with your name on it. You quickly grab it and make your way out the door. Your heart beats uncontrollably in your chest as you walk to your car. You quickly open the door and lock it as you stare at your name written in Elvis’ handwriting.

You hesitated to open it for some reason. A part of you thought he was going to confess how he regrets last night’s events. It scared you to see if that was the truth but had to see for yourself. You carefully tore the envelope open and pull the letter out. Your hands shook as you unfolded the paper.

My Girl,

I didn’t want to wake you this morning. You looked too peaceful. I had a wonderful night with you.

I’ll carry your ring with me wherever I go. It’s the greatest gift you could’ve ever given me.

I will be

With love,

Ep.

Tears roll down your cheeks as you stare at the words he wrote to you. You couldn’t help but feel like this was more than a goodbye letter. It was an end of an era for you two and he just put the nail in the coffin.

•

•

•

Tagging: @loving-elvis @neptuneismysister @velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise@theresalwaysep

@prompted-wordsmith @sillybookmarks @dkayfixates @ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog

@myradiaz @tacozebra051

@thatbanditqueen

@18|kpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873

@austinswhitewolf@eliseinmemphis

@everythingelvispresley@chasingwildflowers @idontwanttoputanything. @ohjustpeachy-

@elvisalltheway101@austinsmutler@kingdomforapony.

@generoustreemystic @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121

@jaqueline19997

@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rimartin11@that-hotdog.

@louisejoy86 @misspresley @cattcb @annapresley8

@arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut @epthedream69

@mh777ep1938

@50sexyshadesfashionista

@oldhOllywOod @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs @sloppiest-of-jos @thisis-theway @gatheraheart @aphroditebabygirl @faeolwen

[tryingtofindava]

Do you write for Liu? If so, what are your hcs for dating him?

𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐥 𝐋𝐢𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬*ೃ༄

: ̗̀➛Back to source

a/n: starting 2024 w Liu and Sully lolz

This boy has probably has little to nonexistent experiences with dating (minus like maybe dating one or two girls in high school), and it fucking shows. He’s an absolute nervous wreck lol.

I’m gonna be COMPLETELY honest with ya here babes, but literally NOBODY saw you two becoming a thing.

“No one will believe us when we turn up together.”

“You know I love to shock people, so this will be great.”

He wants to escalate the relationship, but he doesn’t know how without making him seem like a desperate loser.

Cute little dates involve quieter and more intimate settings where he feels more comfortable in less crowded areas.

So maybe a trip to the library during its quieter hours or just wandering around the most scenic parts of the woods.

His love languages are: words of affirmation, gift giving, quality time and acts of service. So basically all of them except physical touch.

Speaking of physical touch, he isn’t against holding hands on kissing, he’s just not all that into PDA. He’s a snuggle bug behind closed doors tho :)

Words of Affirmation: Since he’s self conscious about the stitches (which have been in since 2011 take ‘em out girly) and scarring that litters his body to remind him of the past. He likes when you mutter sweet nothings in his ear. Tell him he’s pretty, he’ll melt.

Gift giving: HDJDBJDBXHDJ HE MAKES YOU CUTE LITTLE POEMS AND HAND WRITING NOTES ITS HONESTLY LIKE THEM TIKTOKS U SEE WHERE THEY PULL IT OPEN AND IT JUST KEEPS GOING AND GOING.

Quality time: Just being near each, not talking just comfortable silence as you guys just do your own things. As long as you’re near, he’ll be alright. He treasures these moments between you two w his heart and soul.

Acts of service: he’ll bring you you’re favourite snacks, and helping you out when you’re struggling with whatever (bad mindset, chores, etc…)

The first he held hands w you, it’s a nervous yet heart warming moment to see, he’s such a cutie patootie.

Now it’s time for Sully lolz…

On the creepypasta wiki it quote on quote says: ‘He holds some consideration and feelings for Liu himself since they share a body and he refrains from killing anyone Liu cares about due to 'Not wanting to make Liu depressed.’’

SO YOU’RE SORTA SAFE FROM HARMS WAY!! :D

Sully’s the type of mf to randomly flick you on the forehead and laugh a smidge before going back to being all Batman-y and brooding.

And depending on his mood, he might act sorta lovey dovey. Might.

The most you’ll get his maybe a arm around the shoulder. Maybe.

“On a scale from one to ten, how bad do you think it would be if-“

“At least a twenty.”

He will maybe let you rest on him tho. But if anyone was to walk in, you’ll get a slight nudge off.

He’s deffo the more jealous and possessive one, especially around Jeff lol. He’s not letting that Heath Ledger joker lookin mf getting ANYWHERE near you.

✯.★*°•.°✯•.★*°°·.•°★•✯.★*°•.°✯•.★*°°·.•°★•

[cal-flakes]

hey so I was wondering if I could request a rafe fic where the two don't really like each other (maybe she's sarah's friend but he picked on her growing up) and reader is walking home alone one night and realizes someone is following her and panics and walks faster and everything until she sees rafe ahead of her and catches up with him and he can see she's genuinely worried so he goes into full protective mode and walks her home

if you want to change it at all, feel free, I'm just a sucker for a knight-in-shining-armor moment haha

I LOOOOOVE THIS!!!!!

╰┈➤ protective!rafe takes you home

warnings: nothing tbh.

summary: rafe walks y/n home after she’s followed by someone in the dark.

the cool breeze in the air blew past her as she clutched her arms to her chest. the wind whistled through the trees around her while she walked down the poorly lit street.

her footsteps slowed as she attempted to catch a noise she thought she heard. her breath hitched as she glanced behind her, a strange hooded man followed behind a few feet away.

“it’s fine, it’s just a coincidence..” she muttered to herself, walking at a slightly quicker pace.

this carried on for a little while as she went out of her way to take off down side streets and shortcuts, essentially doing a full loop of the neighbourhood she was walking through.

her heart thumped furiously in her chest, all sorts of scenarios going through her mind. as she turned the corner, she looked back to the man, still following her.

her eyes brimmed with tears as she scanned the streets for people, there was nobody around, why would there be? it was four m-thirty in the morning.

the only reason she was out at this time was because of an argument with her dad, they’d gotten into it back at home and he told her to get out. with this, she’d quickly packed an overnight bag, thinking of somewhere to go.

unfortunately, in the rush, she’d left her phone behind, so the only place she knew to go was sarah’s.

y/n has always been close with the cameron’s, she’d stay with sarah whenever her dad was out of town, and rose and ward were always happy to take her in for a few days.

her shoulder ached as the bag strap dug into her skin, her eyes were frantic. it would be a miracle of someone appeared, anyone.

and a miracle it was, when she spotted rafe cameron outside the wreck. “fuck..” she whispered.

he was her only option right now. she hated the idea, but what else could she do?

rafe and y/n didn’t particularly hate eachother, but they certainly disliked eachother. he was always mean growing up, going to great lengths just to piss her off. but surely he’d do her this favour, right?

between glancing at the man, who was gaining on her, she mustered up the courage to yell for him.

“rafe! hey, rafe!” she shouted, throwing her arms up in a wave. the man in the distance turned, brows furrowed as she sped towards him.

“y/n?” he questioned, utterly confused.

as she got closer, he noticed her glassy eyes, tear marks trailed down her cheeks. she engulfed him in a hug, pulling her mouth to his ear.

“i need you to pretend to be my boyfriend, please?” she begged, breathlessly holding onto him for dear life.

peaking over her shoulder he spotted a man following closely, eyeing the pair. his jaw clenched as he watched the guy cross the road, staring directly at him.

the man stopped at a bench across from them, glaring at rafe.

as there bodies separated, y/n’s eyes widened as rafe pulled her into a kiss, tangling a hand in her hair.

pulling away, the shock subsided as he intertwined their hands. “i’ve been waiting for you forever y/n! where’ve you been?” he asked, raising his voice enough for the man to hear him.

rafe’s car keys appeared in his hand as he lead her around the corner, towards his car.

once they were out of earshot, he turned towards her. “what the fuck are you doing out at this time?”

y/n burst into tears before he could finish, leaning into his chest. “thank you! thank you so much! that guy, he-he was following me the whole time, m-my dad kicked me out!” she wailed, sobbing as he wrapped an arm around her.

he ushered her into the passenger side, doing her seatbelt for her. “where am i taking you?” he asked awkwardly, her sobs invaded his mind as his knuckles whitened against the steering wheel.

god knows, he didn’t like his little sisters friends but the thought of someone trying to bring her harm? he was absolutely furious.

“oh, um, your house please? that’s where I was trying to go in the first place.” she muttered, her words muffled slightly as he cupped her own face.

he reached over tentatively, pushing some stray hairs behind her ear. “okay, your safe now okay? i’ve got you”

[hxjikonn]

Hello! Congrats on 143 followers! You deserve it!

Could I request Malleus, Kalim, Vil, Ace, and Jamil with an s/o telling them they're the best thing to have ever blessed her eyes?

A/N: ’M GONNA CRY I LOVE THIS SM 😭♥︎ I have a 3-4 characters limit though so I had to take out Vil and Jamil as I didn’t have time 😔 maybe I’ll add a pt.2 in the future with the two in it! I hope you like it!

Got me Lovestruck

☆Staring☆: Ace Trappola, Malleus Draconia, and Kalim Al Asim

Synopsis: Their reaction to Fem!Reader suddenly saying they’re ‘the best things to ever bless her eyes’

Warnings: Tooth rooting fluff, I don’t proofread my shit so prolly grammatical errors, missing words, etc. I’m sorry💀💀💀

Ace Trappola

You two were doing your usual trouble causing habits, only to be caught by one of the teachers and get sent to detention. “I cant believe we have to write a 500 word essay about why we shouldn’t balance stuff on top of sleeping people’s heads….” Ace groaned quite heavily slamming his head down his desk.

“Like, it’s not OUR fault they fell asleep where we are! That should be an unspoken rule! ‘never fall asleep around Ace or Y/n’ right???” He turned to look at you with a frown as his head still laid there, you giggle at your boyfriend’s frustration and reached over to play with his hair in attempt to calm him down from his tantrum.

After awhile he stopped ranting and just doodle on the paper near where his face rested on his desk, pouting but enjoying the feeling of your hands running through his hair. You found yourself chuckling at the boy’s expression, you always found it endearing how he made you laugh at any given situation…it was one of the reasons why you fell for him…

“Ace you’re one of the best things to ever bless my eyes y’know that?” You blurted out, a soft smile plastered on your face as you looked at him. Needless to say he stopped whatever nonsense he was doing and looked right back at you. Eyes widened and shocked from the sudden confession you’ve made.

Cue Microsoft shut down sound

Wouldn’t know how to react, like his heart is pounding and wants to kiss you right then and there but also a nervous wreck

All his ‘rizz’ that he’d usually brag about would be flushed down the drain, and he has now downgraded into a flustered speechless boy.

When you notice he was acting like a deer caught in headlights, you leaned in and pecked his forehead to bring him back to reality.

He wanted to melt, that’s what he felt like. He pulled you closer to him by the waist and just buried himself in your embrace.

You’d tease him but let him do that until his brain starts running again and is able to produce words.

Once he’s up and running again he’d gather enough courage to leave soft kisses on your collarbone as he’s still too red to kiss your face.

“I fucking love you, I cant- I don’t even- Ughhhh see??? this is what you do to me?? Oh my gosh…”

Malleus Draconia

You two were out on your nightly walks again and he’s going on a tangent about gargoyles while holding on to your hand, you listened and probably know what he’s talking about already due to countless times he’s mention this subject to you whenever it sparks up in your conversations.

Still you listened to him fondly, showing interest to his likings aswell, occasionally you’d ask him questions, and he’d elaborate. You loved how enthusiastic he was when he talks about the things that he likes, the hobbies he does, or anything at all if your being honest.

The horned fae’s voice was like that song you’ll never get tired of, suddenly a question from him cuts you off your train of thought “aren’t they the greatest creatures to bless this earth my dear?” He asks you. “I beg to differ” you protested, he was shocked as you always agreed with him on this, “oh? well then please do” he offers, awaiting for your argument. He was always up for a friendly debate.

You smiled up at him, “They’re not the greatest thing to ever bless MY eyes…because that would be you, my prince” and lifted up his hands to plant a small kiss on his knuckles. “And my opinion wont be swayed so don’t even try tsunotaro” you grinned at him. Suddenly though…your lover stopped walking.

He hears church bells ringing lol

He’d passionately but gently give you a kiss, you’d have to be the one who pulls away frist because this man isn’t stopping 🥹

He was already asking DEMANDING you marry him and ‘no’ isn’t an option. Already has your whole life with him planned in his head.

You’d giggle at his sudden statement and he explains to you that he wasn’t joking. You’d assure him that you knew he wasn’t but ‘not now’

He frowns, but understands and doesn’t push you any further (for now at least) He couldn’t leave you that night, so he stayed over and slept beside you. Coddling you with affection

Would be thinking about what you said to him everyday and smiling, he’d set the whole world on fire if you wanted him to, no questions asked.

After that day he’d keep asking ‘when’ you were going to marry him. And would be stuck to you like glue.

“Malleus…this isn’t your class” “I understand sir Trein but I simply cannot leave my wife…” “WIFE?!?!” “EXCUSE ME??!” “Mal go to your class”

Kalim Al Asim

You two were just hanging out in Scarabia, he was simply laying on your chest, content as he watched vidoes on his phone. These were the days where it was peaceful, the only sounds that were heard were birds chirping and occasionally small talk from the two of you.

Kalim was busying himself with the content his phone provided, making little noises like gasps or laughs from time to time. You just watched him, as his expression changes, finding yourself laughing aswell because you thought he was cute.

He’d look up at you from his phone and ask what you found amusing but you’d tell him that it was nothing and he’d just go back to doing what he was doing. This went on for awhile until he puts down his phone and looks up at you with a pout, “What?? You’ve been laughing since earlier, is there something on my face?…” he whines, climbing up the cushion to meet your eyes and lays down beside you.

You nod, so he starts wiping his face with his hands you only respond with a laugh again, slowly you took his hands off his face and replaces them with yours, “What? What’s on my face?“ he asks, “The best thing to ever bless my eyes” you answered and gave him a kiss. You swore you saw his pupils dilate.

Would cry 💀💀💀 no seriously he’d start tearing up.

You notice this and ask what was wrong, finding it a bit funny that your boyfriend just starts crying for no reason.

He’d burry his face in your chest sobbing, hands wrapped tightly on your waist, mumbling little I love you’s

You laugh at him for this as you thought it was adorable, you peppered him with kisses to make him stop crying.

When you ask him again he’d just say that he loves you so much that’s why he started crying. And once again burry himself in your warmth.

Would rub hearts on your back and leave kisses on your neck sometimes. When you end up falling asleep first he’d watch you sleep and tell you how much you mean to him.

Would always remind you that he loves you everyday from then on. Like ALL THE TIME, you have to tell him to stop sometimes ‘cuz it comes at the most RANDOM of hours.

“Y/n….?” “Hm???” “I love you okay? Very much…” “love it’s 3 in the morning” “I know, I just wanted to tell you that, go back to sleep now, I love you” “Hm…I love you too..” “I love you more-“ “Kalim…”

[softtdaisy]

🌲 new year kisses l mick schumacher

summary. mick has been your new year kiss for years. what happens the day he met someone new?

words count. 2,119

a/n. i honestly don't really know what to think about this one?? I really hope you will love it🫶

a very angsty Christmas l masterlist

The stars were shining, the music was loud, the people were screaming. No doubt, you were at the annual New Year’s party at your friends’ house.

It has become a tradition now. They were doing this in a rooftop apartment in Berlin, it felt out of the world and time. Maybe that was the whole point of this party, finally. To live a life you weren’t used to, act differently and do what you were scared of most of the time. It was refreshing to end the year like this. Both for you and for Mick. 

Because they were his friends, first. He was the one who brought you here, right when you started becoming friends. He wanted to share this moment with you. There were still a few things beating the feeling he had when he came here every year. This feeling of putting his issues and fear at the door and just living the beautiful life he was supposed to have. 

“How come I’m still amazed by this place every year?” Mick asked, taking off your coat. You turned around to answer him, telling him that you were feeling exactly the same. But you got lost in his blue eyes. In magnificent, perfect eyes that were undressing you. You may have cheated a little, wearing the silver dress you knew he loved on you, to get this exact look from him.

You went with him at the end of the season party a few weeks ago, wearing this same dress. You could never forget Mick, being completely drunk, whispering in your ear “being around you is like a little death.” And if you thought for a second that, maybe, he didn’t realize the meaning behind the expression, the wink he gave you and the way his hand fell slowly at the end of your back were enough to prove to you he knew.

You put a hand on his arm. “I told you,” you finally replied, “it’s magic.” You gave him the biggest smile, trying to save him from his thoughts. And yours, too. Coming back here was like letting your feelings come back again too. These two things seem to go together.

And while Mick took your hand to bring you inside, you chose to put all of this aside. Waiting for the moment that you knew would happen later. The one that would wreck your mind again. Like every year.

“Here comes the couple!” you heard your friends say. You rolled your eyes while Mick laughed, bringing you even closer to him. You felt his lips on your hair, the kind of kiss you were always craving for. It was easy to play around the idea of you being together. It wasn’t the case. It has never been. 

When you met Mick, there was an evident chemistry and attraction between you. Everybody saw it to the point some drivers assumed you were his girlfriend the first time you went to a Grand Prix weekend.

But that was the sad part. You weren’t. Because you were both seeing different people at that time.

During the first months of your new friendship, you grow closer, dealing with your attraction for each other without doing anything that could hurt your partner. Some moments were harder than others. Mick’s arms have become your safe place and some parts of you hated that nothing could ever beat this feeling. And you knew for sure that you were the only one that could calm his anxiety. 

Maybe these things were part of the reasons you both ended up single before your first friendship anniversary. The thing was, if you were close before, you were even closer now that there were no “other people”. You slept together in the same bed naturally and way too often for just friends. Nothing ever happened, except for some kisses and hugs that lasted longer than they should. But the way he was caressing your hair when your face fell naturally on his chest, the way he would whisper sweet words to your ears while you were playing with the line on his chest. These weren’t things friends should no.

You both knew it.

You were both too scared of what could happen if you decided to speak up.

It was easy as long as none of you found someone to spend their life with.

“What are you looking for?” you asked Mick. You noticed how he seemed to search for something right when you walked inside. You frowned, looking at the same place he did to understand what he could have been searching. It didn’t make sense. You just arrived.

You saw his cheek turning red before he turned his head to you. “Where we kissed last year.”

You rolled your eyes to hide your shyness. He didn’t need to remind you what happens every year here. You perfectly remember that.

It has become some kind of tradition over the years. It started at your first New Year together. 

You were both newly single, ready to drink to forget and enjoy the night with your favorite friend. And you did have fun. Dancing so much you had stiffness. Singing so loud you lose your voice.

So closed you ended up kissing each other at midnight like it was the most natural thing to do.

You didn’t question it that night. The feeling of Mick’s soft lips on yours, his hands lost everywhere on your body and his smile, oh that smile, pressing against yours was so magic that you didn’t want to know if it was right or wrong. It didn’t matter as long as you appreciated the moment.

You barely ever talked about it. Just saying that it was a fun and nice thing to do and complimenting each other on your kissing competences. But it didn’t mean a thing.

Right?

And it was perfectly fine that it happened again every time. It was the only moment you could think that maybe this new year would be the one where you would finally confess your feelings and try something together.

In the end it always ended up the same: Mick got so focused on his career that he didn’t want to start a relationship and your own job prevented you from traveling as much as you would. Each time you saw each other you got closer but without ever crossing the couple line. It was an eternal circle you weren’t sure would end one day.

“Ten!” 

You turned around, noticing all your friends started the countdown already. How could you not even see it was finally midnight? You put your champagne glass on the counter, watching everyone running to the living room.

“Nine!”

You laughed nicely at the couple who just left the bathroom in a hurry, clearly stopping what they were doing to be with their friends. It reminded you of your thir New Year you spent with Mick. For some reason, you managed to get locked in the bathroom together. You freaked out first, sad that you won’t be with everybody else for that moment. But then you started laughing at the situation. In the end, it wasn’t that bad that nobody could see you kiss at midnight, again this year. 

It was the first time you wondered if maybe this could be more than just an ambiguous friendship.

“Eight!”

Thinking about Mick didn’t bring him to you. You looked around, confused. You can’t lose a tall blonde man like him, it’s impossible. But you couldn’t see him anywhere, not even when you joined all your friends.

“Seven! Six!”

You asked around if they saw Mick. Some of them ignored you, deliberately or not, some laughed, thinking it was some kind of joke. How would they know if you don’t? You were the one supposed to be with your best friend. So focused on your search, you didn’t notice some of their looks on you. Meaningful. Quite sad, too.

“Five!” 

You had a hard time finding your way to the other room, they were all so close to each other they were like a big whole person. Maybe it was a sign from the universe that you should go further. That you should stop before the disaster.

“Four! Three!”

You finally saw Mick, on the balcony. You were wondering why he was there? Why would he be outside by himself? You walked to the door, ready to join him.

“Two!” 

Before you opened the door, you saw him laugh. Then you saw her.

“One!”

You watched silently, incapable of moving, while he grabbed her face between his hands.

“Happy new year!”

Or was it, really?

Could it be a good year when it starts with the man you’re so deeply and secretly in love kissing another woman in front of you? What hurts, was that it hit so close. She looked just like you and you felt like a watcher, looking at your relationship with Mick. The way he always kissed you with his hands on your face like that so his thumbs could caress your skin, how he would always smile against your lips, how his whole body was reacting to the kiss.

Expect it wasn’t you. Not this time.

You kept watching them. Hoping that maybe you were dreaming. That it wasn’t Mick. 

But the truth was there. It felt like a hole in your heart, one that kept growing each second that passed. You felt selfish. Feeling this bad when all Mick did was finding someone new. When you were too scared to confess your own feelings.

It wasn’t until your friends started to come over you, screaming and singing like you were supposed to, that you realized it wasn’t fair. Neither to you, to keep getting your heart broken because you couldn’t take your eyes out of them. Or to Mick, to expect him to wait for your strength to show up and not try to find love again until then.

“Happy new year!” you heard them and you let them take you away in their happiness, pretending you were fine. And maybe the drinks and the music helped you forget for another hour what has just happened. You just pretended everything was just fine and since you still haven’t seen Mick, you could act like it was just a lie. Maybe, in another universe, he wasn’t even there and didn’t ruin you without meaning it.

It was almost 2 when you saw Mick again. Someone had spilled their drink on you by accident and you were now looking for a sweatshirt in whoever room you were in. You heard the door opened in your back and assumed it was the bed’s owner that was just checking you weren’t making a mess. Which you could have done, since you were shaking from how you were with your wet dress. 

But it wasn’t. “Honey, you’re here!”

You almost stumbled from the chair you used to have access to the top of the wardroom. Mick noticed, rushing to put his hands on your waist to catch you. “That would be a pretty bad way to start the year with broken bones.” He laughed and for a few more seconds, you put aside all that happened earlier. Just enjoying this feeling of being in his arms, again. 

Then the truth hit you when you saw the lipstick marks. On his lips, on his cheek. Even on the collar of his shirt.

Mick had found someone to kiss tonight. And it wasn’t you.

“Someone had fun, I see.” you tried to sound as light-hearted as possible, not letting any sad feelings appear in your voice. But considering how drunk Mick looked, he probably wouldn’t even notice. 

The huge smile that drew on his face the moment you talked about that let you know you were right. He had no idea what was going on in your head. “I have so much to tell you! She gave me her number, I’m seeing her again to see if we can make this work out somehow.” He looked so happy, almost jumping around like a kid on christmas day. You didn’t have the heart to break his happiness with your sadness. 

So you put your hands on his face and give him a light kiss on the forehead. “I’m so happy for you Mick. You deserve this.” You didn’t need to find any excuse for the tears in your eyes. He started to hug you tight against him before he even got the time to see them. 

This is what you get for being too scared of speaking in fear of losing the man you love.

You end up losing him anyway to another woman.  

[lavendermunson]

Gorgeous - steve harrington

chapter 1 of miss americana and the heartbreak prince

summary you are on a break from tour and all of your plans get wrecked by a lovely baseball player.

tags famous!singer!reader and famous!baseball-player!steve. each chapter will have it’s own warnings, none for this one except consumption of alcohol. just pure fluff. i changed the name of the chapter sorryyyyy!!!! no use of y/n

w.c 2.2k

masterlist | series masterlist | next chapter

You’ve reached the half of your tour, and Wednesday’s show was the most energetic. Now you find yourself yearning for some much needed rest during your month-long break. You can already picture yourself making a nest on your bed, doing nothing but sleeping and watching your favorite tv show.

Life takes unexpected turns, it’s Friday now, and one of your friends has invited you to a party. She said it wasn’t a ‘big thing’ but the house was full, the music wasn’t so loud and you wanted to thank the host for it. You miss your bed, and your cats, but it’s also nice to see some of your… friends. Not that you have too many, there’s always a struggle on trusting new people. 

You try to relax your shoulders as you make your way to the kitchen to get a drink. On your way, everyone keeps complimenting you about the successful tour you’ve had.

Since you started making music, the growth of your career has been massive. Rich and famous people often prioritize numbers and records, focused on ‘who does it first’ ‘who wins the next award’ and tons of material shit you don’t care about. You wish someone would appreciate your music as you’ve always seen it, art. It’s an extension of you, a way to feel yourself free while being connected with your fans through truthful and poetic lyrics.

The kitchen is empty, only two people hang around kissing and touching each other like they are invisible. Something in your body aches whenever you get to watch someone giving affection to their partner. It’s inevitable, you yearn for that.

Being a successful person does not always mean you get what you want in your personal life. Sure, you’ve had dates with interesting people but no one sticks around to see the true you. Most of the time they only want to hang out with you, have a date or attend an event only to get their five minutes of fame.

Now that you think about it, maybe you don’t have time to settle down with someone and that’s  disappointing, you really crave for someone to snuggle with and have a fun loving life. Dance around the kitchen, play around at the beach. 

It seems everyone has time for love but you. Everyone does the best, or worst, time on dates while your dates always have paparazzi and people at home watching the pictures, focusing on who you are dating instead of what you do, what you feel, and who you are. It’s more exhausting than performing love songs about fictional people that you’ve created in your head.

You wish your personal life was getting better as your professional life, tour, and travel days are planned, you always get your favorite breakfast, and the love that radiates from the fans makes you glow. It’s a different story when you’re alone in a hotel room, you start to feel like the loneliest person in the world. How can someone perform for 30,000 people and yet feel so alone five hours later?

Being on tour is exhausting, but for a couple of minutes on that stage, you feel powerful. It’s the safest place you have, for now.

You are in desperate need of the strongest drink you can get. So, you reach for a bottle but as you reach for it, a hand is pressed against yours. You gasp at the sudden touch and look up to see who it is.

Famous baseball player Steve Harrington appears from out of nowhere. The touch feels warm, you blush as he looks at you with a grin on his face.

“Soft spot for whiskey? This is my favorite one too” he says, your lips parted as you feel the heat on your face.

Keep. Yourself. Together.

“Uh…” you didn’t even realize it was whiskey, I just grabbed the first thing I could find” you confess, biting your lip as you miss the warmth of his hand. 

“You weren’t going to pour this fine whiskey on that red cup, were you?” a chuckle escapes from his lips. He is cocky, he grins like he is the king of the world, and you… you like it.

“I- I just wanted something stronger than this beer” You let the red solo cup on the table focusing on his movements.

“Let me handle this” he makes his way through the kitchen looking for a cup worthy of his favorite liquor. He manages to get one, it’s not the same one he hand-picked since the party started but he believes it’ll do the job. He adds a couple of ice cubes and pours the whiskey, just the right amount.

As he hands you the cup, your fingers briefly touch, sending shivers down your spine. You don’t know what’s got you so nervous, please, you are the queen of the world right now. 

“Thank you,” you say, taking a sip of the drink. As the liquor travels through your throat, you can feel it burn. It’s a feeling that leaves you pleased, this is exactly what you were looking for. “Wow, it’s delicious”

“I know, the best whiskey in this state,” he says. “I’m Steve Harrington, by the way,” he gets closer to you, his hand reaching out for yours.

You shake his hand, your cheeks feel hotter than ever. “Nice to meet you, I’m-”

“I know who you are,” he whispers, winking with a grin. Letting go of your hand he finishes his drink in a sip. He wipes the corner of his mouth and grabs the bottle of whiskey. “It’s too loud in here, do you want to join me in the backyard?" The house fills with voices as someone else arrives and everyone goes to the front porch to greet them.

“Sure” you nod, now holding your drink between your hands. You follow him to the backyard, small and shy steps– far from your usual confident self.

“Here, I grabbed this blanket earlier. You can sit with me” He offers you a spot on a blanket, sitting down and getting comfortable.

You take another sip of your drink, feeling the whiskey fade the nerves away. “It looks like you had this planned out” You leave your cup on the grass, letting the ice melt a while, to make it less strong. 

He laughs, looking at the stars in the sky. You get lost on his features. The way his nose is perfectly shaped, his eyelashes are long, the little freckles on his face lit up by the yellow little lights in the backyard. “I wanted some space. I have a game on Sunday and I got dragged to this party… I tend to just find a place for myself. It looks like you needed a break too”

You notice how his nose scrunches up when he mentions his game. You bet he didn't know that you were aware of his existence, but you did. It was impossible to dismiss him, he has been one of the biggest and most famous players since the season started. Your dad and your friends talk about him. On tour, some people on your team watch his games before the show since the games are early. His face covers some of the biggest places in the cities you visited on tour. 

“Is it a big game?” you curse yourself, of course it is. But you know nothing about baseball so he lets it pass. He looks at you with a sympathetic smile.

“It is, the team we are going up against is one of the best. I don’t tend to talk about it days before or I will get nervous” he confesses, leaning his head to one side and looking at you like you are the most beautiful jewel in the world.

“I don’t believe you” you laugh, shaking your head.

“What?”

“You, getting nervous. Your team has won over and over because of you, people on my tour team always brag about how you are the best”

Steve blushes at your words. He is fucking blushing and lets out a nervous but cute laugh.

“Don’t tell me you don’t get nervous after a show” his cocky grin comes back, you reach quickly for your cup to take a sip.

“I don’t,” you say.

He leans back, eyes wide. His lips parted in surprise.

“You don’t? How?” he asks.

“I do the same every night. It’s all choreographed, the one who is always nervous is my tour manager. But me. I don’t know” You let your head fall to look at the cup, and you shake it slowly so the ice cubes make a sparkly sound. “When I get on stage my heart just fills with warmth and I know there are people who are having the best time just because of me”

“That sounds very romantic” he searches for your face, and you look at him.

“It’s the closest I will ever get to romance” you sigh, feeling a sense of shared understanding.

“Hey, cheers to that!” he says.

“Cheers!” 

You clink your glasses together. The night slips away, accompanied by Steve, whiskey, and sharing stories.

He is sweet, he has a true passion for his job, loves his career, and his team. You didn’t like to talk about work, but what else would you talk about? Work consumes both of you, it's easy to realize that. He is in every poster, you are in every magazine. Social media is filled with pictures of you, good news, bad news, fake news. 

“It’s comforting to know someone is as married to their job as I am,” he says, his words slurred from the whiskey.

“I don't like to call it a work, it’s more like…” you begin.

“A dream come true,” he finishes for you.

“A dream come true, yes” You agree, feeling your head already spinning, the bridge of your nose hurting and your back giving up after sitting on the grass.

“Can I just tell you.. You are not what people say you are, well, not entirely” he says suddenly, whiskey doesn’t make Steve confident, it makes him dumb.

“What do you mean?” you worry, your body tensing in anticipation.  You’ve read all of the nasty things people have said about you, but it only hurts when it comes from someone you like or care about. Was he about to say something mean?

Steve could never say something hurtful. He respects people so he can be respected in return. He’s experienced the harshness of the media as well, he has somewhat of a bad reputation.

“You are an icon. But right now, you are just… you” he shrugs. “You look so unreal in those magazines and right now you look like a fire in a cold winter” he gets closer to you, and the gap between you disappears. “I mean, you are not just a record breaker, you radiate an energy that makes me... too comfortable for my liking”

“Are you…”

“I am serious,” he says, looking at your face, admiring all of your features. He knows you are cute, perfect, and talented. But now he realizes you are also sweet, you have a warm personality and a calm that surrounds you everywhere you go. “Talking to you made me forget everyone in the world knows my name, it’s like you are the only one who knows me”

“Like we know each other's little secrets?” you ask, reciprocating his feelings. Talking to him also made you forget about the millions of people who are listening to your music every night. That your face is on every little girls’ bedroom wall.

“Like we are each other’s secret” he whispers, so close his liquory breath tingles against your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please” you whisper too, your entire body is burning. What you said earlier wasn’t a lie, you don’t experience romance very often.

“So cute and polite” he rests two of his fingers on your chin to bring you closer. Steve gently presses his lips to yours, moving them softly as you catch up with his movements.

The kiss is slow, but your heart is beating faster than ever. You only get this feeling when you are on stage, he only gets this feeling when he wins. 

His thumb slides to your neck as his fingers rest in your cheek. Your face is between his hands, and you could swear you see stars, a glowing pink aura surrounding the two of you. This feels too good to be true.

When air is needed, both of you separate from each other. You touch his arm to keep him closer as he looks at your face, lips puffy from kissing.

“Guys! Pizza is here” someone inside the house screams, the scent of greasy food making its way to you.

“I don’t know about you but I'm really hungry,” he says, getting up and offering you a hand to help you get up.

“Me too” Your cheeks are still pink, he notices and almost falls on his knees at how adorable you look. You take his hand and get up, your chest bumps against his. 

“There is one thing everyone says and it's that you are beautiful” he looks at you with his pretty brown eyes.

“Do you agree?” you ask.

“You are fucking gorgeous”

You laugh, getting on your tippy toes to leave a kiss on his cheek.

“We are each other’s little secret, remember?”

You nod in agreement, understanding the secret bond you now share. Steve smiles and drops your hand, disappearing into the house. You let out a big sigh, you are so going to make a song about this, but for now, it’s a secret you’ll keep locked away from the world.

I hope you like this series, feedback is appreciated! don't forget to REBLOG TO SUPPORT THE AUTHOR! . ♡

DISCLAIMER. you already know who inspired this, I want to clarify i mean no harm for the people in real life and what happens in this is just inspired by them, it's not based on true events. comment to be part of the tag list!

[miumura]

✦ TRUTH OR DARE ?! — RICKY ONESHOT ✦

— ★ : when a game of truth or dare leads to a confession.

✁ pairing : friend!ricky x gn!reader

// genre : friends 2 lovers ; fluff | word count : 2K+ (2505)

♪ warnings ! — not proofread (so there may be mistakes), a kiss is made w ricky n reader, peer pressure (in a good way?!?), lmk if there’s any more!

☏ soph speaks ! — first zb1 work aaaa !! and its not a smau?! surprising in a way 🫡 . since ricky has be flooding my tiktok fyp (and has been slightly bias wrecking me), here is something i thought of late at night !! hope you like it :)

“Come on, it will be fun!”

“Obviously not if there’s only four or five people! And probably not even five if they don’t want to participate!” you scoffed at Hanbin quietly, not taking him seriously.

Who would’ve thought you’d be playing such a childish game on a Friday night?

Staying at Hanbin’s house made you guys brainstorm on things you should do for the night.

Play sports? Boring! Plus, you could imagine the amount of rage quitting — you didn’t want to deal with that!

Bake? It’s too late! You weren’t really in the mood to bake anyways.

Play games? Sure, but what you didn’t expect was a game about asking each other questions.

“You’ve declined everything I suggested—can’t take it anymore!” Hanbin dramatically grasps his chest. “Plus, I’ve been wanting to do this forever! We have to—at least once!”

You continued to refuse — there was no way you were going to participate in this!

“If Ricky agrees, we ARE doing it!” Hanbin pleads with his eyes, waiting for a response.

Ricky looks at the two of you cluelessly, not picking up what you and Hanbin talked about earlier.

Noticing the heavy stares, he takes out his airpod, waiting for someone to say something.

“Ricky—“ Hanbin cuts you off immediately, “Ricky, just say yes!”

“Just say yes for…?”

“Just do it!”

“Hey, you can’t do that!” You nudged Hanbin jokingly, a small chuckle escaped from his mouth.

Still clueless as ever, Ricky scratches the back of his head.

“Okay then…? Sure — for whatever you guys are planning to do.” Ricky is still unsure whether his answer was good or not — you groaned and sat in defeat while Hanbin held a mini celebration.

Hanbin easily used your weakness to play some stupid game. Your weakness? It was no other than Ricky.

Ricky. Your crush since the first year of high school. He became your best friend after you guys shared a majority of your classes together. And of course, you were afraid of rejection, so you held off confessing for now. (as if you were even going to actually do it.) Cliche, but not really. And you thought you held onto your secret of liking him pretty well.

You totally don’t turn red whenever Ricky indicates any physical touch. You totally don’t smile like an idiot when he walks away. You totally don’t fix yourself up whenever you see him walking your way.

Nope! There was no way you were that obvious.

Despite your great hiding skills, Hanbin had to be the first one to know about your crush. (as if you didn’t give it away from the beginning.) Ever since then, Hanbin has been using your crush as an advantage.

“You better tell me or else!” , “Ricky is with me.” , “I’ll bring Ricky along.” — the phrases he would always say to get you to do something. You practically engraved these in your brain already.

If you heard one of those phrases again, chills would shiver down your spine—that’s how traumatizing it is.

He knew that if he just mentioned his name once, you’d probably agree to something so fast.

Hanbin does the same thing everyday. Asks you to do something, you refuse—he calls Ricky’s name, and you admit defeat.

And you know it works every single time too. It just became something you could never avoid.

Having no other choice, you went to the living room.

…Just maybe, you’d participate in this stupid game.

Totally not for Ricky, though.

Here you are, gathered around in a circle in Hanbin’s living room. Not only did he manage to get you and Ricky to play, he even got Woongki, Seunghwan, and … Seowon?

Seowon showed up to the house last minute—it seemed like he only joined the “party” for this game. So now there’s six people instead of five. I guess, the more the merrier.

You stared at the four intensely, not knowing what they would be up to. Those four were mischievous together, and unbelievably chaotic when next to each other.

You’re sure that especially those four know you have a crush on him.

Seunghwan. He knew because you accidentally said you had a crush on him. Not surprised, Seunghwan heavily supported you and Ricky. He would always secretly drop hints to Ricky such as, “You and Y/N look great together!” or “Aw, couple goals!” However, he’s not sure whether Ricky is picking up on his signals.

Woongki. Your saved contact for Ricky was questionable — “my ricky 🫶” Seriously? Do friends put each other’s contacts like that? You eventually told him because Woongki kept asking you to explain. Since then, he has always teased you by saying, “Oh, your Ricky is here!”

Seowon. When you told Woongki to not tell anyone, it was too late! On the phone, he unintentionally mentioned your crush to Seowon. As a result, he called you … and you chased after Woongki. It was astonishing that Seowon was unaware of your crush, let alone that you were crushing on Ricky, your best friend.

And Hanbin…well there’s no need to explain how he found out.

It just had to be those four to play this game with you and your crush.

“Ah, wait. Let me get us some snacks.” Hanbin interrupts the tense moment briefly — the only thing you were glad he did today.

The other three scattered to “find” things to get to leave you and Ricky alone for a bit. (but you didn’t know that.)

The two of you sat there silently, waiting for the others to start the game. Ricky managed to see you nervously picking at your fingertips. Tapping on your hand slightly, he was able to get your attention.

You hummed, ignoring your slightly reddened cheeks, and gradually stopped picking the skin off your fingers.

“Are you okay?” he mouths to you, just to get a quick nod from you.

“You sure? You only pick at your fingers when you’re nervous.” you smiled at him for remembering one of your habits. He should know, after all, you've known each other for at least two years. “Are you uncomfortable with playing this game? I can tell the others.”

“Oh no, I’m fine with this.” you lied — I mean, it’s just a childish game, right? Plus, you didn’t want to be seen as a coward to him. (although he would never see you like that). “Just randomly nervous, I guess.” another lie — you’re good at lying aren't you?

Ricky did have many questions, but to prevent you from getting even more overwhelmed, he sat there quietly. But, he never failed to take a glance or two at you.

The four slowly returned back, hands filled with snacks that could last for at least two weeks.

“Let’s start!”

The first few rounds were fine, with Hanbin being fearless, Seunghwan doing ridiculous things, and both Woongki and Seowon screaming their heads off. The sweets that had been collected began to vanish slowly.

You were chuckling quietly when you noticed Hanbin staring at you — you quickly stopped laughing because you knew what that stare meant.

It was finally your turn.

You exhaled deeply and attempted to ignore the twisting knot in your stomach. “Go ahead.”

“Y/N, truth or dare?”

You considered your options briefly while deciding what to do.

Truth. Hanbin will almost certainly ask you if you like Ricky, which you will most likely refuse to respond at this time.

Dare. It appears to be a much safer option — after all, what could Hanbin possibly force you to do?

“…Dare.” you said, wanting to get this over with.

“Sit closer to Ricky.”

You gave him a little death glare while the others said “ooh” quietly. They were aware of Hanbin's actions and enthusiastically supported them. I mean, it wasn't as horrible as you expected.

As you scooted closer to Ricky, he couldn’t comprehend why the rest were smiling. Why are they laughing now that you and him have been this close before?

There were many reactions, but Ricky didn't seem bothered by your proximity to him. You, on the other hand, were most likely the same shade as the pink couch pillow. You were humiliated for no apparent reason – why were you driven to be this way now? This would undoubtedly make Ricky suspect something is up.

Ignoring your friends' gaze, you knew it was Ricky's turn.

You ignored your bad feeling and watched Hanbin ask precisely the same question he had asked you a few minutes ago.

Without hesitation, Ricky quickly said dare. You had no idea how he made such an easy decision — he was as calm and cool as always.

Seunghwan patted Hanbin on the shoulder as he was going to say something. Hanbin smiled as he murmured something into his ear.

"That's a much better idea than I had in mind!" He held his hands together, his attention returning back to Ricky and you.

Oh no. You just know this dare will be awful.

"Hold hands with Y/N until the end of this game." The words that came out of his mouth made your jaw drop. You needed to listen back to make sure he said it correctly.

You and Ricky don't hold hands very often, if at all.

Ricky reached for your hand before you could even deny the dare uncomfortably. You stared at him with slightly bigger eyes, unable to break free from his grip.

He lays your hand on top of his thigh after interlocking his hands with yours. His hands fit perfectly with yours, like his hand was the final piece of a completed puzzle. He looked and raised his brows at the others, again with the serene face (with the slight pink hue on his cheeks that you didn't catch).

"Are you happy?" the others ask, secretly squealing to each other as if they'd gotten you and him together.

You and Ricky both shrugged, pretending holding hands didn’t affect you two at all.

Another sigh escaped from your lips as you stared at the rest slowly taking their time to answer the simple truth or dare questions.

They were clearly doing this on purpose — but you had nothing to complain about though. You just worried your palm would start becoming sweaty if you continued to hold onto his hands for at least another twenty minutes.

His thumb would frequently brush against yours, causing your heart to skip a beat. When you put your hand on his, he prefers to play with your fingers rather than stay still. This game became too much for you to handle.

Once again, the simple question went back to you. You hoped that saying the truth would be much better than picking a dare.

“Truth.” Seowon looked at you mischievously and fixed his posture.

“Do you like anyone in this room right now? Romantically, I mean.”

You froze.

What did you expect from your circle of friends? They wanted you to confess just as much as you wanted to let these feelings out.

It’s just a game. Just say yes and continue. You had to remind yourself — there are five people here, so Ricky has a one-in-five chance of guessing correctly.

“…Yes.” Ricky was taken aback, and his heart in his chest sprung slightly. He kept his face expressionless and collected himself. He couldn’t be too sure, right?

Woongki playfully asked if you had a crush on him, which elicited some laughter from you and the others.

Ricky was gently laughing, but he hoped that wasn't actually the case.

They raced to make Ricky pick a decision when they were satisfied with your response.

“Truth.” That surprised you because you expected him to keep saying dare. That's exactly what he did last year.

"Do you like Y/N?" they inquired emphatically.

You turned to look at him, attempting to read his expressions.

The abrupt question tightened his grip on your hand. It's unusual to view Ricky in this light – it was like seeing him for the first time.

But he wasn't the only one who was taken aback by this question; you were as well.

You felt a surge of feelings rush over you: anxiousness, happiness, and worry. You hoped you knew the answer to this question.

You're not sure whether you should be grateful for Seowon's direct question.

He did take a bit longer to answer this question, the anticipation was killing you. He opens his mouth slightly, making your twisted knot feeling in your stomach grow bigger. Why won’t he say something already?

Ricky finally responded, feeling the eyes from you and the rest.

"Well, I wouldn't be holding hands with Y/N if I didn't like them, right?" He turned to face you, hoping for the same reaction. Ricky feels more at ease when he sees you smiling.

The four's loud cheers flooded the living room, ruining this romantic moment. Ricky ended himself laughing in embarrassment, wishing he had confessed in a more private setting.

“You mean it?” You said to him over the ongoing cheers. He nodded, staring into your eyes with much love. He had been waiting to say this for ages, and he finally did.

Ricky had finally noticed the blush you had, which made him smile widely.

“You look so cute like that.”

“Oh, enough.”

Looking right back at them, you wore a shy grin on your face. “Well, are you guys satisfied?”

"Trust me, we're not satisfied!" Hanbin says, knowing he was serious. "Let's just ask you guys the questions—it's more fun." The others nod in agreement, eager to bombard you two with questions.

The nervous feeling you experienced at the start of the game began to diminish as you giggled slightly at the questions being asked. Instead, a warm, loving sensation arises in your stomach.

It wasn’t just you who felt that feeling, it was Ricky as well. “Oh, just kiss already!” Seunghwan says dramatically, slightly opening one eye to check if you'll actually do it.

You were staring at Ricky when you noticed him gulp, which made you giggle. "...Can you guys turn around? It’s kind of awkward, yknow…" Ricky was taken aback by your unexpected question – it's amazing how much can happen in only a few hours in this game. The others eagerly turned around, remaining silent to allow you and Ricky to have some "private" time.

Noticing how Ricky was caught off guard, you took your chance. Grabbing his chin softly, you pulled him closer to you.

As you went for a peck there, your lips felt the warmth of his cheek. The four screamed in excitement when they heard you kiss him. They appeared to be happier than you, as if they had received a kiss from their crush.

In your own little world, you stared at Ricky lovingly — you made him feel shy with your gaze.

“..So what are we?”

“Definitely more than friends.”

Your hands with his collided even tighter, both of you not wanting to let go. Resting your head on his shoulder, you both watched the others continue to create chaos.

…Just maybe this game isn’t bad or stupid at all.

taglist .. @dwcljh @ilovewonyo @jiawji @tzyuki

[spacebarbarianweird]

Sleepy

Summary: Tiriel persuades Astarion to drink the sleeping potion.

Technically it's just Astarion being very sleepy and Tiriel taking advantage on that.

Pairing: Astarion x OC (Tiriel)

Tags: fluff, post-game, named Tav, established relationship.

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

"Astarion!" Tiriel calls out for her vampire husband. "Are you there?"

The battle is over and Tiriel, feeling dizzy after taking at least two hits in the head, is looking around.

Two dead ogres. Three orcs. A gnoll that was too drunk to realize a raging barbarian wasn’t a good target to bite.

"Only my man can bite me," she pushes the body aside.

But Astarion is nowhere to be seen. He usually hides in the shadows protecting Tiriel from damage, but the moment it's over he comes back to her, hot with blood.

It's been like that for sixty years.

"Astarion!"

No response.

Maybe he's gone too far in the caves? But Astarion has a sharp hearing, he must have heard her.

She looks down and notices a bag probably stolen from an unfortunate victim. Tiriel kneels to open it and sees bottles filled with potion.

Three are broken and the fabric is soaked in a liquid of unknown properties.

And the fourth one...

Tiriel carefully takes it in her hands.

Angelic Sleep Potion!

The only potion that puts an elf to real sleep. It looks like molten gold and the bottle has two wings.

Then Tiriel sees him.

He stands in the middle of the field, silent and motionless. Tiriel can't see his face and she thinks he might be looking for something in the dark.

"Astarion, love!" She calls him. "Are you all right?"

No response again.

His armor is in rags, hair is covered in dry blood. He doesn't have any wounds – not anymore, at least, thanks to vampiric regeneration, but it seems he's received a lot of damage.

"Astarion?" Tiriel feels a knot in her stomach. There was a period when Astarion was such a mental wreck, she even doubted her devotion to him. But he got better with the years, setbacks became rare and now  Astarion sometimes even forgets he lived those awful centuries of slavery.

Astarion makes a grunting sound as if something has stabbed him, before collapsing on his knees.

And then he yells.

His voice echoes through the caves. His yells become cries and then he just sobs grabbing fistfuls of his hair.

Tiriel sits beside Astarion and caresses his back.

"I am here, love, I am here," she plants a kiss on the nape of his neck and only then he stops trembling.

"I am sorry," he mutters, finally collecting himself. "Just... too much..."

"I see, you received too much damage, huh? Come on, you need rest."

Astarion needs help to stand up and then he just leans on Tiriel, unable to move by himself.

"Just... I don't know... it was like a flood. The ogre hit me three or four times and I felt like I was going back to the dungeons, back to... whatever I was before..."

Tiriel tugs him closer.

It takes them the whole night to return back to Backford Crossing – a small town close to Luskan that became their home twenty years ago, after they'd left Daggerlake. It was nice to come back to the Sword Coast and besides Tiriel got her own adventuring guild. These are wild territories that are close to the Icewind Dale, and winters here are merciless.

Tiriel suspects many of her subordinates know too well Astarion is a vampire, but they are people who have a lot of secrets, too. Don't want to be interrogated about your questionable past in the Underdark? Don't try to learn if Astarion is a vampire or not. Besides, thanks to his age and satiation he perfectly imitates a mortal elf. Even his fangs aren't that visible.

By the time Tiriel closes the doors of their house, Astarion leans against the wall and she sees tears flowing down his cheeks.

"How bad was it?" She asks, helping him to undress.

"It broke my bones. As they mended in a moment, they were broken again. Cazador's favorite torture, " he manages to say.

It's the first time in decades since Astarion mentioned his master's name.

Astarion sits on the bed. He needs to meditate to recover but Tiriel knows he is afraid.

Trance will bring more horrors. Forcing him to relive his distant past.

Tiriel puts the potion on the bed table.

"I want you to drink it," she says. "I found it in the alchemist’s bag – its owner was eaten, I am afraid."

"No!" Astarion scutters aside, and Tiriel is afraid he will break the bottle. "I am not going to drink it!"

"Sleep will make you feel better! Trust me, non-elves renew themselves in sleep, it helps to forget horrors of the past day!"

"I am not a non-elf! My mind brings me horrors anyway and I know a lot about those uncontrolled, crazy dreams you have! No. Don't make me!"

Tiriel sighs, helping him to put off his trousers. Astarion is absolutely helpless and Tiriel has a funny flashback of undressing their daughter when she was little.

They look alike, Astarion and Alethaine. And Tiriel takes care of them both even when they are in their killing mood.

"Please, Astarion, don't be such a baby. It will make you feel better. You will just sleep."

"And what if I see nightmares?"

"You will wake up. And you will know they weren't real."

Astarion hesitates but then gets under the blanket and takes the bottle. 

"Tiriel."

"Hm?"

"I will do it, but so you know, darling, I do it only because you ask! And I have a condition."

"What is it?"

"You stay  here. All the time. Just don't go. I- I need you to be there when I am, in these...whatever."

"I am too tired to go anywhere. I will be here for you, don't worry," Tiriel kisses him and feels his hand on her back.

"You know, everyone who would see us would think we are supposed to grow tired of each other, not be these lovestruck fools we are.'' Tiriel giggles.

"You haven't gotten any colder, my darling, still as warm as you were when I drank your blood for the first time," he pulls away and opens the lid of the bottle.

"Hm, that first time when you drank my blood and then almost came in your pants?"

"Exactly that," he smiles while drinking the full bottle. His sight immediately gets sleepy. "And it wasn't nice of you to withhold the fact you saw me in the woods with no trousers on.''

Tiriel pushes Astarion down on the pillow, making him comfortable in the soft bed. He still needs a source of warmth and she plans to burn the fireplace and also sleep beside him for the whole day.

"My head is heavy," he complains.

"You are falling asleep, it happens to me every day. Sleep well."

"What do non-elves do when others... fall asleep...?" He closes his eyes allowing the potion to take control of his body.

"Leave them alone. Or sing them a lullaby."

"Can you...?" His tongue turns twisted.

Tiriel caresses his cheek and starts humming. She often sang this lullaby to Alethaine and there were a few months when the dhampir absolutely refused to go to sleep without hearing it. Though Alethaine is technically an elf, she still can’t meditate and sleeps like any non-elf, including her mother.

It's a song of a mother dragon who waits till her children hatch. She is ready to wait patiently for decades till it happens and before that, the little dragons can sleep comfortably in their eggs.

A pretty sad song if one thinks about it – because the dragon shall never see her children hatch, for she will be slayed by a warrior. Alethaine finally realized this after about four months, when she was five, burst into tears, and cried so loud Astarion heard it from the surface part of the town and they both spent the next few hours trying to cheer their daughter up. In the end, they all agreed Alethaine would grow up to slay dragon slayers and save little dragons – and with that, she finally agreed to go to bed.

Who knew Alethaine would have such a sensitive heart?

Tiriel caresses Astarion's cheek and sees he's asleep. She carefully undresses so as not to wake him up and gets under two thick blankets to preserve the heat.

Then, she hugs Astarion from behind pressing his back to her breasts and feels like falling asleep, too.

As she loses control of her thoughts Tiriel remembers the bite moment in every little detail. The fear that woke him up, a scared and embarrassed Astarion who appeared to be a vampire, begging  her to let him draw her blood. She pitied him – all thanks to the tadpole that showed her all the misery Astarion's life was.

Another wave of fear as she realized Astarion wasn’t stopping. Tiriel violently kicked him, forcing him to let her go. His attempt to show his honest gratitude. How he then went to the woods, she thought, to hunt for more.

Tiriel felt the call of nature sometime later and left the camp only to catch a glimpse of Astarion leaning against a tree without his trousers and doing very clear movements with his hand.

For some reason, it didn't disgust her – more like intrigued. The very idea that the vampire fed on her and got that aroused somehow made her feel much better about herself.

The sentient blood made Astarion's body function properly. It made him desire things. It made him want her. At first, as a means to an end. Later, as someone much more than just a partner and a donor.

Tiriel plants a kiss on his shoulder. It was sixty years ago. Six decades.

Her thoughts wander further, to the night on the clearance. Astarion was so beautiful in the moonlight she jumped on him wanting him to become her first one. He never disappointed her, but Astarion still resents their first night –  she can’t get into his head, but she knows his intentions and thoughts were far from pleasant that night.

It wasn't him. Not the real him. The real Astarion – the one buried deep under the trauma, violence, degeneration, torture, and rapes – woke up in the morning full of feelings he didn't know he could still have.

And Tiriel has loved this real person ever since.

Tiriel drifts away in her sleep still holding her husband in her arms.

Waking up is difficult – she's a heavy sleeper – and she realizes it's almost evening. She still feels too lazy and too comfortable to move.

Astarion is still in her arms.

She elbows up and sees that Astarion’s eyes are open. He is half-awake, in this dizzy state of mind when you can't make yourself get up, and time passes fast.

"Hello, darling," Tiriel kisses his lips as he answers her.

"Hmm," he mutters something and stretches his hands only to close his eyes.

She giggles. He is so much like Alethaine right now – their daughter is a heavy sleeper and Tiriel sometimes needs a lot of effort to make her get up.

But there was nothing sweeter than kissing a sleepy dhampir whose mind woke up but her will to fight didn't. So Tiriel would just smooch and hug Alethaine as much as possible before the dhampir finally got enough of that.

Tiriel starts kissing Astarion forcing him to murmur something. Then she hugs him, caressing his back and shoulders. She knows he is conscious but he has no strength and will to resist her.

And he is so beautiful.

Astarion's hair is messy. His body is relaxed, his mouth is half open and his face is a bit puffy.

"Such a sweet beautiful elf you are," she intertwines her fingers in his hair. "I am so lucky to have you."

He mutters something again and Tiriel kisses his neck. Then she traces it right to his jawline and puts two fingers on his lips.

Astarion’s eyelids get heavy again and he slips away back to dreams.

Well, it's his first time.

And when it's his first time he takes it fully.

Blood drinking? Tiriel almost died from blood loss. Sex with a loved person? She couldn't close her legs after that, and she had to take a bath to wash out the graveyard dirt. Freedom? Astarion stopped walking only when Tiriel was unable to go further without a rest. Marriage and relationship? Tiriel is the happiest woman in the world – when they lived in Daggerlake and raised their daughter other women would come to Tiriel half-joking about wanting to know where exactly she found Astarion. Fatherhood? Astarion spent every minute with Alethaine, making sure the dhampir was loved and protected.

When it's sunset, Tiriel comes to Astarion again and starts playing with his hair, waking him up.

"Hello darling," he mutters.

"Hello, my heart," she answers.

He sits up unable to focus his sight.

"Do you want food or a bath?" She asks.

"And what do you usually want after... such… a prolonged rest?"

Tiriel laughs.

"Usually I want to pee after being asleep for so long."

"My digestive system died with my heart and lungs."

"Well, then bath. I don’t know how it works for you, but no one can eat right after waking up"

"Aletaine can.'' He notices.

"Alethaine is a little half-undead monster I carried in my womb. For someone who is five feet tall and weighs eighty-eight pounds, she devours an ungodly amount of food. No wonder I felt so bad when I was pregnant."

"What did you expect?"Astarion stretches his arms and yawns. “You got pregnant by a vampire.”

"I didn't expect anything! You are the smart one, you were supposed to know!" Tiriel takes his hand and pulls him to the bathroom, turning on the pipe with hot water. "And now, I catch myself thinking, what if something bad happens to my daughter? And then, if something bad happened to her I wouldn't know that! Because who knows where she is right now! It makes me anxious and every time she comes back to us I want to lock her down and never let her go!"

Astarion submerges his legs into the water and smiles, baring his fangs. "Our daughter is a dhampir and a necromancer. Every dhampir we've met so far told us she is a very dangerous person to be enemies with."

Tiriel laughs adding some cold water to be able to withstand the heat. Then she gets inside too and takes the sponge to wash herself and Astarion.

"How was it?" she finally asks. "Your first sleep."

"It was nice, but I don't want to do this again. It was like being beaten with a heavy pillow and I couldn't get myself out of this slumber. It was nice and I feel much better but this is... still unnatural to me. Elves sleep only when drugged or severely beaten. Or when they are traumatized so much they can't trance anymore. And considering I still can, I don't want to know what elves are supposed to go through.”

"You are just a very strong person, Astarion, don't sell yourself too short.”

They spend hours in the bath, talking and washing and only then Tiriel finally makes herself get out –  someone needs to deliver news that the poor alchemist was killed by ogres.

"I will prepare you dinner," Astarion assures her – another skill he learned over the years, even though he can never say if what he makes is edible or not.

Tiriel tries to do everything quickly. Deliver the news, assign the task to beat the shit out of the ogre tribe to the newest members of the guild, and then come back home to whatever Astarion is making for her.

When she approaches her home, she catches the delicious smell and her body immediately responds by making her move faster.

She is fucking starving.

But once she opens the door she hears a loud laughter.

"Alethaine!" Tiriel gasps entering the kitchen.

The silver-curled dhampir smiles wide, baring her fangs.

"I am moving to Fireshear," she explains. "Decided to pay a visit on my way there. And to pick up my old books."

Tiriel hugs her daughter and can't resist rubbing her ear. Alethaine is so delicate and thin but there is a dark strength in her, the power of dhampirism and necromancy. The young woman leans in, allowing Tiriel to show her motherly love.

Astarion puts the plates in front of his wife and daughter. It seems like Alethaine has been at home for some time – she wears a black dress Astarion always insists on keeping ironed and clean in case his princess comes to stay.

"I told your mother not to worry about you," he smiles. "You know that you should stab first."

"Are you staying for long, kitten?"

"I was thinking about a month or two, and then I sail north."

"Maybe three?' Astarion suggests. "I don't think it really matters when you get to this hellishly cold place."

Tiriel smiles. Alethaine was born in Uktar, the last month of winter — and should she stay for three months, they can celebrate her fortieth birthday.

Alethaine makes a weird sound that substitutes "sigh" for her – the dhampir doesn't breathe, almost like a vampire.

"Rather generous offer, how can I say no," Alethaine chuckles.

**

"Wake up, kitten," Tiriel enters her daughter's room the next day. "You've slept for fifteen hours!"

Alethaine makes a disgruntled noise from a heap of blankets she’s buried herself in.

The room is uncomfortably hot due to the fireplace and Tiriel can't understand how it's possible to sleep in such a warm place.

Especially considering Alethaine doesn’t have a vampire to hug.

"Alethaine, time to get up," she pulls the blankets away. The dhampir immediately curls in the fetal position trying to keep warm.

Tiriel caresses her cheek and kisses her. Alethaine is seepy like a cat – absolutely unable to do anything against Tiriel.

Tiriel makes her sit up and then hugs her. The young dhampir tries to get back to bed but her mother is adamant - too much sleep is as bad as too little of it.

Finally, Alethaine puts her feet on the floor. Tiriel giggles seeing her bed hair – the always composed dhampir looks like a drunk dryad.

“I am waking up, mum,” she mutters. 

"So, how difficult was it?" Astarion asks, sitting on the front porch. The ledge protects him from the sunlight and allows the vampire to enjoy the day as much as possible.

"You know, that's kinda funny. She is almost forty – don't tell me she is a child by elven standards, you were a magistrate at her age – but I can't stop thinking that she hasn't changed much since she was four!"

"She didn't," Astarion smiles. "She is our baby princess and always will be. No matter how many armies of the dead she can resurrect."

Tiriel leans on astarion and receives a kiss.

She is happy.

No matter what the future holds for Tiriel the Barbarian, she will always be happy.

--

Tag list

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[vera-king-hrfl]

Zevlor Sex Drive HC.

OK, so I've been thinking about our sexy old legend a lot recently (obviously), and I've decided to explain how I understand his needs. Just... I mean, just look at the guy.

I can't be arsed to format anything, but w/e, you get what you get.

He's really shy at first and doesn't want to burden you with his desires, but when he feels more comfortable, he will indicate his needs in subtle little ways.

He's too much of a gentleman to ask for it outright, but you see the hunger in his fiery eyes as they travel over your body. The way his sharp teeth indent that delicious lower lip, his claws digging into his palms trying to control himself.

He loves to make out. He can kiss you and touch you for as long as you can take it before you get too hot and absolutely attack him. When he learns how to turn you on there's no hope of resisting.

Maybe at first, he comes too fast, he's been starved for touch for so long, but he's able to perform multiple times in any given day. He has amazing stamina and really strong legs, so once you have released that incredible pressure he's able to go for hours.

He needs... needs sex, on the daily. It makes him feel attractive and wanted. He's damaged, and being inside you, or having you inside him, makes him feel loved.

Once he is really comfortable and knows you want him however he likes, he's not picky about the setting. He'll take you anywhere. In bed, bent over a table, up against the wall. He'll pound you into the dirt if that's what's available.

He likes everything. Blowjobs, hand jobs, dry humping. He loves when you play with his ass. Your fingers, your tongue, your cock if you have one. He whimpers so sweetly when you stretch him there. He can come from that alone.

He can also get off from going down on you. And with that long, forked tongue... (it isn't in the game but we the people have decided it and so it shall be.) He's good with you sitting on his face or grabbing his hair or horns and fucking his throat, whatever the case may be.

Zev isn't picky about gender or appearance. As long as you want him, he thinks you're beautiful.

He loves when you caress his horns or his tail. When you touch the ridges on his body, or complement his eyes. He isn't exactly ashamed of what he is, but he's been insulted so much that it makes him really happy that you appreciate his infernal attributes.

He's big. Like, long, heavy, thick, with prominent ribbing. He's been thoroughly blessed by the cock gods. I think it's pretty much universal fandom lore now. He is aware of that, and always afraid of hurting you. And he does, but you like that, don’t you? You'd never tell him that it's too much, even if it is.

He's also really strong. He's not the biggest guy in body, but he's so fit, and has been for so long that he can easily hold you down or throw you around even if you're heavier than him.

He likes to bite and be bitten. Not into pain that much, but he considers it love bites and likes leaving marks on you. He is embarrassed about it but he enjoys the taste of your blood.

He's ready at a moment's notice if the two are alone. He can get hard at a light breeze.

He's not an exhibitionist, but he's fine if nobody can see and you try to be quiet. He'll get shy about public displays of affection.

He always thanks you afterward, even if you're the one who's quivering, covered in sweat and half-wrecked from the pleasure.

He's big into aftercare. He likes to hold you and soothe you as you tremble in his arms. He'll get you a drink or a cloth to clean up with. He can also heal any damage he's done, which eventually makes him more likely to take kinky risks, if you’re enthusiastic about your desire for that.

Slight edit because I forgot...

Favorite position: I know this is vanilla, but, missionary! He likes everything as I said, but he's the Hellrider, the Paladin, the Commander, and he really loves being on top and being in control. He's fine bottoming, but he wants your legs around his waist, wants to put his weight on you, to look into your eyes. He wants to see every expression and every reaction to what he's doing to you, and you better believe he's taking mental notes. That also feels very romantic to him, and you know the guy is just hopeless. It won't be that bad. He's not very heavy. I imagine him as being about 5'8 and lean.

In conclusion, yeah, I'm down bad. I can't help it, and I'm not sorry.

Note: there's a little hint of what I'm working on now up there somewhere. Something I haven't included in any of my Zev stories yet. Be afraid.

[beemochi-art]

Omg I love this already-

Can you do 22, 34, 36 for jazz and prowl plz!

22) Jazz has a pretty clear love language. He can’t seem to keep his hands off Prowl, or be very far away from him. Jazz loves touching and kisses. Very cuddly. Prowl is Jazz’s safe space basically. He will also bring him energon cubes even if prowl already had one. Or he’ll pour some of his into Prowl’s cup.

Prowls love language is letting get away with all this All the public affection and invading his personal space. Anyone else tries even a quarter of what Jazz does would get snapped at. But with Jazz he not only lets it happen but welcomes it. Sometimes Prowl will tell him it’s too much, but that’s rarely. Prowl also likes giving gifts, is hard sometimes tho when Jazz is like, “I don’t want anything but you .” Sigh, lingerie shopping it is. (Prowl feels silly putting that stuff on but Jazz loves it.)

Their shared love language tho is messing with each of. Intentionally stepping on buttons to get a reaction. (Playing essentially.) when mess with each other it’s never huge it’s just little things like, prowl taking Jazz’s food right in front of him or Jazz licking Prowl directly in the face. (Both of these things I’ve draw.) jazz is not easy to annoy or get a reaction out of and no one would ever expect Prowl of doing anything fun of the sorts.

Fundamental they are both two very different people. But their differences complement each other. Prowl has loosened up a little and Jazz has someone he can rely on when he’s upset rather than bottling up emotions.

34) When Prowl is upset he goes looking for Jazz. Some how Jazz’s cuddling and cooing always makes him feel better. When Prowl is scared or distraught he’ll cling to Jazz like a lifeline. It’s Prowl’s tern to be the clingy one.

When Jazz is upset he’s not hugging or any of his usual antics, he’ll still seek out Prowl but will just sit next to him, letting Prowl close the distance.

When Jazz is really upset or worse really angry. He won’t go to Prowl at all. Prowl obviously goes looking for him, he knows something’s up when Jazz is no where to be seen. When Prowl does find him, he doesn’t touch him or ask him what’s wrong. Prowl instead says to him, let’s go to the track or gym. anywhere to get the excess energy out. Jazz doesn’t say anything but follows Prowl there. Prowl will burn energy too sure, but this is for Jazz. And when Jazz is finally done he’s shaking and breathing hard. But finally he’ll open up and tell Prowl what’s wrong. Sometimes Jazz will completely crack and not even say anything but go to Prowl and cry, finally they are hugging, maybe later when when emotions aren’t so high will they talk, but now all Jazz needs is comfort.

Jazz is an emotional wreck and no one’s knows but prowls.

When it’s not at all a big deal. He’ll act like this.

36) Jazz is more protective. He will fight. Sometimes it’s annoying to Prowl.

Prowl knows Jazz is very capable of taking care of himself, so often times Prowl will let him handle it. But if it’s a jab at their relationship or it ultra Magnus is taking it too far. Prowl will step is and the yelling starts, if you think you can out yell and out bitch prowl. You’re wrong. Jazz will be behind him with the biggest shit eating grin. When Prowl gets done with the verbal ass whooping, he’ll take his lunch break early, all while holding hands with jazz.

When they are both in battle, they are pretty good at avoiding major damage, but they’d take a bullet for each other any day.

[munsoninthedark86]

Kinktober 2022 Day 8: Threesomes(Three's A Crowd? Nah)

warnings: smut, threesome, unprotected sex, Steddie!, mentions of alcohol and weed, fellatio, vaginal fingering, swearing pairings: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader x Eddie Munson/ Steddie x Fem!Reader word count: 1.7k

The three of you sit in the living room of Eddie’s trailer. You’re seated on the floor, your back against the couch. Eddie sits on the armchair and he is sipping his beer. Steve has just returned to the room, two beers in his hand. He throws you yours, and you catch it with ease. It’s been a good few months since Eddie’s close call in the upside down. You were so fucking worried about him when they all returned without him. But Dustin had begged and pleaded for someone to go save Eddie, and you and Steve ended up being the ones to save the metalhead.

“Ahh, what a great way to spend Saturday night.” You croon softly.

Eddie laughs, “What? Drinking my beer and smoking my weed?”

You scoff, “And who saved your ass?”

Steve frowns as he begins drinking his beer. He knows that you’re teasing one another, but he was so afraid of losing either one of you when you and Steve went to save Eddie. The worst thoughts and scenarios went through his mind when he realized he might never see the charming dungeon master ever again. He’d have to console you. But now, with the two of you here, maybe Steve can finally tell you how he feels about the two of you.

“Fine fine,” Eddie ceases his jabbing. “You’re both welcome to my beer and my weed.”

You smirk, “Awhh thanks Eds!”

He blushes at your nickname for him, “anything for you, dollface.”

You look over at Steve, who seems incredibly lost in thought. You don’t want to interrupt the thought process, but you are a little concerned. So you lean up and sit on the couch with Steve, and you place a hand on his shoulder. He jumps a little from the touch, but he’s happy that it’s just you. Steve has been through so much in the last few years, he has grown a little jumpy.

“Cat got your tongue, babycakes?” You ask him, your tone flirty.

He sighs before chugging half his beer, “No. I’m just so happy that you two are alive.”

You smile, “Hear that, Eds? He’s happy we are alive.”

Eddie laughs, “Awhh Harrington! I didn’t know you felt that way about me.”

But something snaps inside of Steve, he is ready to bare his soul to both of you. A near death experience to one of his favorite people will do that to him. He leans over to you and he presses a gentle kiss to your lips. You’re rendered speechless, and Eddie isn’t really sure what to say either. The kiss deepens a little and you come closer to Steve. Eddie feels something deep down inside of him growing. Watching Steve kiss you is proving to be almost a little too much.

“What’s going on, Harrington?”

Steve is a little breathless when he pulls away from the kiss, “Look when you were down there…in the upside down, it practically wrecked the both of us, Eddie. Now that you’re back, and you’re both safe…I just want to show you what you both mean to me.”

Steve doesn’t hesitate to pull you onto his lap. He begins kissing you once more, and you can feel his love and passion coming out with every little move he makes. He’s gentle when he pushes some of your hair out of your face. It’s not long before Eddie comes to sit next to the both of you.

“Yeah? You were that worried for me, huh?” Eddie asks him, and he reaches down to take Steve’s hand in his.

“Like you wouldn’t fucking believe, Munson.”

This warms your heart. You’ve always had a crush on Eddie, and when you met Steve, you were immediately drawn to him. You knew of him, but you were never formally introduced until last year. Steve was charming and sweet and you could tell he has changed a lot since he “king” Steve.

You can’t keep your eyes off the pair. Steve leans in a little closer to Eddie, and soon he closes the gap between the two of them. Eddie lets out a sweet moan when they begin making out. You are truly mesmerized by the sight.

“Shit,” Eddie says breathlessly. “You are such a good kisser, Harrington.”

Steve smirks, “Yeah, I’ve got a lot of practice.”

This prompts you to pull Steve in for a kiss. His hands come up to tangle in your hair as you begin to grind against him. This leaves Eddie a little impatient, so when he gets his chance, he pulls you onto his lap and you begin kissing him.

“Fuck baby,” Eddie moans. “Feels like we’re in high school all over again. ‘Member when we used to sneak off in third period to have a quickie in the forest? Mmm, fuck your little pussy was so good back then.”

You slap his chest playfully, “And it’s not good now?”

Steve and Eddie share a mischievous glance. You’re almost a little worried about what they have planned, but you don’t have much time to react before Eddie gets up and throws you over his shoulder. Steve is following behind you two. Eddie brings you into his bedroom and he tosses you onto the bed. It’s not long before he’s crawling on top of you.

“Let’s see if her little pussy is still good, Harrington.”

Steve watches from the doorway for a few moments. Eddie begins undressing you, and he caresses your body wherever he finds exposed skin. His cold metal rings feel so soothing on your hot body. Steve finally comes into the bedroom and he leans down to kiss you. While Eddie continues undressing you and exploring the rest of your body, Steve is playing with your tits.

“You are so fucking adorable,” Eddie mutters as he finally pull

You’re blushing now, “Don’t say shit like that.”

Eddie moans as he parts your thighs. You're so sticky and so wet. His tongue pokes out of his mouth as he is practically drooling at the sight of your glistening pussy. He takes a few moments to adjust his rock hard cock in his jeans before leaning back in to inhale your sweetness. Steve groans when he sees the full sight of you naked.

“Jesus,” Eddie grunts. “Fuck you’re just as beautiful as the day I fell in love with you.”

You giggle, “Yeah? When did you fall in love with me?”

Eddie blushes, “The day we met.”

Steve coos at your softness. He never knew how deeply infatuated you two were with each other. Steve leans in to kiss Eddie, and Eddie groans. All of this pleasure is going to culminate into something very passionate and explosive soon. When Eddie pulls away from Steve, this is when Steve takes his chance and begins kissing you.

“He’s right. You are as beautiful as the day I fell in love with you,” Steve confesses. “You’re both beautiful.”

The two of them get off the bed and help each other strip. Your mouth is watering as you watch them begin making out. Steve reaches down to begin stroking Eddie. Eddie squeaks but that soon turns into a guttural moan.

“You’re so cute, Munson.” You quip, and he flips you off.

Steve guides Eddie to join you on the bed. Steve kneels in front of your face and he begins stroking his thick cock. You feel yourself get even more wet; aroused and left wanting from watching Eddie and Steve. You let out a surprised moan when you feel Eddie’s fingers at your entrance.

“How about we find out just exactly how good she is together?” Steven asks Eddie, and Eddie nods his head eagerly.

“Oh fuck yeah,” Eddie grunts. “I love that big brain of yours, Harrington.”

Steve chuckles, “I’ve had a few good ideas in my day.”

You’re about to say something when Steve pushes the head of his cock to your lips. You whine softly before suckling on it, making him groan. Eddie watches in a daze, all while rubbing your clit so teasingly. Soon he can’t help himself, and he grasps his cock. It twitches against your pussy and he thrust it between your soaked folds.

“Just fuck her already, Munson. Show her you meant it when you said you love her.”

Eddie smiles softly, “You’re right.”

The metalhead slips into you slowly, whining at how tightly your walls are clamping down on him. When he’s bottomed out and his balls are plush against your ass, it’s only now that Steve begins thrusting into your mouth. The two of them work in tandem; coaxing you towards your release. Eddie’s long cock keeps rubbing up against your sweet spot, making you see stars.

“Shit, you feel good.” Eddie moans, and Steven grunts in response.

“Good little mouth on her,”

This makes you blush. You are having a hard time not choking on Steve’s thick cock, but he keeps praising you. These soft words fall from his mouth, while Eddie can only grunt nonsense between his panting and whining. If he was with anyone else, he’d be so embarrassed to sound like that. But with the two of you, he knows he can feel safe.

Eddie’s long fingers trail down your body, stopping only to begin rubbing your clit in sloppy circles. You moan around Steve’s cock, making him shudder at the wonderful vibrations that pass right through his cock. He doesn’t know if he’ll actually be able to hold on for much longer.

“Fuck,” Eddie whines. “Fuck fuck fuck, I’m gonna fucking cum if she keeps squeezing me with that cunt of hers.”

Steve moans, “Yeah, I’m close too.”

Eddie looks down at you, “You close too, baby?”

With the nod of your head, the two men begin doubling down on their efforts. It’s not long before your walls begin wildly fluttering, and you are shuddering and shaking. Steve moans as his balls tighten first, and you and Steve fall off the edge together. Eddie isn’t long after, cumming hard with loud curses falling from those pretty lips.

Warmth fills you as Eddie and Steve both paint your inside white. You swallow every last bit of Steve’s cum as your cunt receives Eddie’s hot load. As they both come down, they pull out of you gently. Steve lays beside you as Eddie goes to the bathroom to get you something to clean you up with.

Steve pulls you closer, “I’m so glad I didn’t lose you. I’m glad I didn’t lose either of you.”