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bruh-changbin · 2 years

Text

sweet tooth

pairing: park jay x waitress!afab reader

genre: smut, minimal fluff (minors dni)

warnings: oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (be safe), public sex, creampie, finger sucking, minimal food play, lots of mentions of food, brief mention of male masturbation, jongseong is kind of a big desperate loser, lmk if i’m missing anything

word count: 6.7k

a/n: writing this killed me idk why it took fucking forever dawg. but hey, i’m finally giving you all an enha fic without a depressing ending!!! here’s a fun drinking game to play while you read this: take a shot every time jay says a variation of ‘uhhh’ (you will die) ALSOOOO this is for my bae’s @k-ingzo @lix-ables thank you guys for hyping me up to write this bc if you didn’t I’m 90% sure I would’ve scrapped it 😻 LOVE YAAAAA

waiting.

the most painful game one can be subjected to.

seconds stretch into minutes stretch into hours and soon enough the whole concept of time is but a mere social construct that holds no real value.

surely his coffee’s gone cold by now.

the view from the window to his right has progressed from one filled with gold, yellow and orange to one filled with blue, black, and indigo. one by one the neon signs of nearby businesses have flickered on to attract the nighttime crowd.

he tries to ignore the way his heart is sinking in his chest, much like the way he himself is sinking deeper and deeper into the red vinyl cushion of the booth he’s seated in. the overhead speakers have been blaring elvis for the past half hour and he wants to scream and smash a plate on the floor in frustration. if they play hound dog one more time i swear i’m gonna-

jennifer. 20. single. 2.3 km away. her bio read: only swipe right if you like puppies!!!!!

he does like puppies and found her to be quite pretty, so he did as he was instructed. his heart did a small flip in his chest when his phone screen lit up reading ‘it’s a match!’. he got to talking to her and things were going smoothly. well, at least he thought they were. now he’s alone in a booth constantly refreshing their online chat with some sliver of hope that she may still be coming. the same three messages stare back at him:

[5:17 pm] jay : hey! I got here a bit early so i’m just waiting in the car. let me know when you get here and we’ll go in together.

[6:03 pm] jay: it started getting busy so i snagged us a booth, i hope that’s ok… anyways, i’ll see you soon.

[6:49 pm] jay: hello?

whatever, her loss. fuck dating apps.

and fuck jake sim for making him sign up for one.

maybe tinder just isn’t for him. maybe he needs to find love the old fashion way: bumping into someone on the street; locking eyes across a crowded room; both of you reaching for the last bottle of wine at the grocery store and then just insisting that the other takes it. you know, the kind of shit you see in movies.

the only thing is he’s tried the old fashion way for years to no avail, with tinder being his last resort. things like these take time, he tries to remind himself. you can’t rush love, that’s the magic of it!

but now, seated in a booth at an obnoxiously retro themed diner with his head hung low, he has lost all faith in love. he picks up the porcelain mug to his right and downs the dark liquid; cold, just like his heart.

he should just leave. i mean it’s obvious at this point that he’s been stood up so he should just head home where the teasing and nagging from jake that will bruise his ego even more is iminent. there comes a time in life where one must accept defeat and move on with-

“would you like a top up, sir?”

a sudden interjection from a saccharine voice to his left is what pulls him out of his trance of self pity. woah, hello you.

it’s been a long time since he’s been rendered speechless, but you do that to him. you, looking like someone who should be on the cover of a magazine as opposed to serving coffee in a diner. a white button down hugs your torso in all the right ways and he’s envious of the red apron that’s tightly wrapped around your waist because that should be him. the blue ballpoint pen tucked behind your ear somehow makes you 10x more attractive and he can feel his throat close up at the sight of you.

your skin looks smooth and your lips look plump and thank fuck jessica bailed on him because now all he can think about is bending you over this very table and fucking you raw. top up? more like top me, please!

the glint of the gold name tag pinned onto your shirt catches his eye and he reads it: y/n. pretty.

he notices your eyes shifting around anxiously and reality comes crashing down on him. stop drooling over her tits and answer the question you perv. focus!

“i u-uhhh yes, uh yes please that’d be great,” he stutters out embarrassingly, prompting you to bend over and refill his mug with steaming hot coffee from a pot that you hold with a perfectly manicured hand.

“can i get you anything else while you…” your eyes dart to the empty seat across from where he’s seated, “wait?”

god this is so embarrassing. now the cute waitress thinks he��s a fucking loser who got stood up (that is exactly what happened). could this day get any worse? he was just about to leave, spare himself from more agony when you waltzed into his life and made his brain a complicated, frazzled mess.

“uhmm no that’s ok,” he’s trying very hard not to trip over the simplest of words, “just the bill would be great.”

you nod, about to turn around and head over to the register when jay speaks up again in an attempt to preserve his image.

“it was supposed to be a-a work meeting,” he starts while motioning to the still empty spot across from him, “but my uh….. business partner… couldn’t make it, so..”

he’s lying. you know he’s lying. someone waiting for their ‘business partner’ to show up wouldn’t be checking their phone every 1-3 minutes while intermittently wiping their clammy palms on their slacks every time the doorbell jingles and a new customer enters.

but he doesn’t need to know that, so you paint on an understanding smile before heading over to the diner counter, sparing him one final glance over your shoulder.

it’s a sad sight to see; a handsome boy patiently waiting for someone who’s clearly not going to show up. so you bring him a slice of red velvet cake dolled up with cream cheese icing and waive the two cups of coffee that were tacked onto his bill for the evening.

“it’s on the house,” you practically whisper into his ear while placing a comforting hand on his sturdy shoulder.

“oh!” his voice cracks, “t-thank you so much i-” he calls, but you’re already walking away to assist another table.

his hand instinctively reaches to where yours was placed on his shoulder only moments ago. he could sense the warmth radiating from your palm, feel the stray hairs of your bangs tickle his ear, smell the artificial strawberry scent of your lip gloss.

either someone decided to crank the heat up in the diner or he’s becoming extremely flustered (it’s the second one). he scoffs down the cake you left him with flushed cheeks and tight pants, visions of himself prying your legs open and indulging in something sweeter plaguing his mind.

with a hefty sigh he throws on his coat before making his way out of the diner and into his car that’s parked right out front. from behind his windshield he watches as you greet a group of other customers before turning his keys in the ignition and peeling out of the parking lot.

he doesn’t even make it home before he’s pulling into an empty parking lot and jerking himself to the thought of you and your work uniform and your glossed lips.

covet. desire. yearn for. crave.

all very real tertiary emotions that park jay would use to describe his current feelings towards you - a server who he spoke to for two minutes max and now can’t seem to move on from.

unsurprisingly, jake teased the fuck out of him for getting stood up in the way that friends do. but he doesn’t know that jay views his failed date as a complete success.

albeit he is still mildly salty over the fact that he got stood up, all negativity is washed from his brain the moment he pulls into the familiar parking lot in front of the familiar diner and he feels the familiar pitter patter of his heart quickening its pace from behind his ribcage.

he tried to hold off on returning the literal day after he was just there, he really did, but he simply couldn’t bear it. the urge to see you, to observe you interacting with other patrons to know if you’re nice to everyone or if he got special treatment is too strong to ignore. it’s for science! he assures himself.

the dulcet jingle of the bell as he opens the door to the diner rings in his ears, and he waits to be seated. the hostess that shows him to a booth similar to the one he was in yesterday is pretty, but she’s not you. only then does jay realize that the possibility of you not having been scheduled to work today is very real. this is only worsened by the fact that he decided to come in the late morning today as opposed to the evening like yesterday. stupid, stupid, stupid!!!

while feeling like a complete and utter idiot he decides to get to work, whipping out his journal, writing utensils and laptop for the sake of not looking like a weirdo. what kind of person goes to a diner and just…. sits there. he’s gotta keep up a facade.

things are starting to look grim for jay as he sits and works and waits for the object of his desire to appear in front of him. while the retro cat clock on the wall continues its relentless ticking he attempts to swallow down his dismay.

alas, the universe must be on his side after all for soon enough he catches a glimpse of you through his peripherals. yes! you seem to be a little frazzled, gnawing on the inside of your cheek before grabbing a mop to clean up the chocolate milk that a toddler has decided to decorate the floor with; your shift must have just started.

he keeps his head hung low while intermittently scribbling in his journal or scrolling on his laptop, opting to steal an occasional glance as you assist a plethora of other patrons. the coffee he was served upon his arrival is starting to go tepid, much like yesterday, and he’s practically praying you’ll soon stride over and ask if he needs a top up.

“more coffee…” you pause briefly, “jay?”

hold up, how’d you learn his name?

his brow quirks upwards in confusion and with your hand - the one that’s not holding a boiling pot of coffee - you point to his leather bound journal that’s splayed across the table, opened to the first page. property of park jay is scrawled across the top in his sloppy handwriting akin to that of a first graders. he’s surprised you can even distinguish what it says to be completely honest.

“ahhh,” he remarks in understanding, smiling ever so slightly because hey, now you know each others names. that’s a step in the right direction.

“were you looking to order something? you know, other than black coffee.”

as if on cue his stomach growls (luckily quietly enough for you to not pick up on it) and he fumbles for the plastic covered menu to his right that slips and slides in his sweaty grasp.

“i would love to but uhh, i’m not sure what i’m in the mood for… what do you recommend?”

you roll his question around in your head for a moment, “were you thinking sweet or savoury? or if you want both, we make a pretty mean monte cristo.”

at this point if you told jay to walk off a cliff he would do it, so he orders your recommendation without hesitation.

“good call,” you purr before waltzing away from his booth and into the kitchen, leaving jay to erupt in a fit of goosebumps on his own.

while he waits he busies himself with reading an article on his laptop, getting halfway through before realizing he hasn’t actually been taking any information in the entire time. but can you blame him? his brain is… preoccupied with other thoughts.

soon enough you’re striding back over to where he’s seated, placing a steaming monte cristo with so much confectioner's sugar on top it looks as if there’s been a mini avalanche in front of him. he thanks you and is about to dig in before he realizes you aren’t leaving.

“is your business partner coming today?”

…what?

“my business partner? i don’t- OH! fuck, uh y-yes my business partner right! uh no, no he’s not coming today. i usually come here to work on my own though.”

for a moment he forgot about the blatant lie he spilled to you the last time he was here to save face, but he thinks he saved himself with that last bit.

a playful yet triumphant smirk makes its way onto your face, “that’s funny, i’ve never seen you here before yesterday.”

his eyes widen and his palms become impossibly sweaty. caught in a lie, great.

before he can come up with a witty response you just shoot him a knowing look as you walk away from the booth he’s seated in, your strawberry body spray wafting behind you and infiltrating his senses, rendering him immobile.

ugh how you make his teeth ache! he longs to douse you in syrup and powdered sugar, drag his hot tongue across your skin as you squirm and twist in pleasure underneath him. he’s sure you’d be sweet enough to give him a cavity. he finishes his monte cristo with gusto and attempts to do more work on his laptop but finds his brain to be far too frazzled to do so.

when he decides to call it quits, he leaves you a hefty tip before driving home with the taste of sugar coating his lips and the inside of his mouth.

over the span of a few weeks the two of you become accustomed to a game similar to the likes of cat and mouse.

he shows up to the diner in the late morning/early afternoon and prays that you’re scheduled for a shift; you usually are. through the course of a few hours jay manages to get minimal amounts of work done while you check on him occasionally, offering your opinions on different menu items and then placing a hand on his shoulder with a laugh when he trips over his words.

he’s sure you can sense the tension as well, but in case you can’t he keeps his thoughts to himself. you could just be doing your job for all he knows.

nevertheless, it feels as if all aspects of jay’s life now revolve around you. when he falls asleep at night you’re the last thing on his mind and when he wakes up you’re the first. when he gets himself off he has to think of you or else he won’t feel satisfied, and he can only hope and pray that one day he’ll be able to feel your body against his, the warmth radiating from your body making him feel like a cake in an oven.

sure he’d love to take you out, shower you with gifts and spoil you by taking you to expensive places that would surely break the bank, but he just can’t seem to push away all of the hardly appropriate thoughts and feelings he harbours towards you. it’s becoming quite an issue, honestly.

he thinks of popping the buttons on your blouse open one by one before diving in, scattering bite marks and bruises across your tits and neck and collarbones as you writhe and plead underneath him. i need more jay, please give it to me…

god you would sound so perfect.

his fantasies don’t stop there though; they never do. he can’t help himself from imagining what it'd be like to reach up your skirt and peel your panties down your legs as if they’re strands of red licorice. he’d go so slow, taunting and teasing you before slipping himself inside of you and feeling your cunt suck him in as if you crave him like oxygen.

you smell of strawberries and he’s sure you taste like them too. the stripper red polish on your nails would pair so well with the scratches he’s sure you’d leave across the expanse of his back and shoulders. he longs to dig his teeth into your plush thighs like they’re mochi, snapping a picture of his bite mark embedded in your perfect skin to save for later use.

down bad is an understatement when it comes to jay’s desire for you. infatuation is more like it.

today starts off like every other day. the smell of burnt coffee is what pulls him from his slumbers, and the clock on his bedside table tells him he managed to sleep in until one in the afternoon. when he trudges into the kitchen he sees his roommate and friend jake, who likely also just woke up and still doesn’t understand how to properly operate a coffee machine, staring at his phone.

it’s then that jake reminds him of the plans they made to spend the afternoon at their friends house playing video games before grabbing takeout for dinner. jay curses his past self for agreeing to these dumb plans with his dumb friends since he was planning on heading to the diner today to marvel at his favourite waitress! oh well, he can still head over for an hour and a half at most before he has to return and uphold the prior promise he made.

he turns down jake’s offer of a cup of coffee and, after a quick shower, he’s flying out the door.

when he finally makes it to the place where he spends most of his days now he doesn’t even wait to be seated, just slips into the same booth as always and waits for you. the little ritual the two of you have fallen into now so ingrained into his brain he can’t imagine straying from it. alas, it’s decently busy today so he busies himself by scrolling through his instagram feed while waiting for you to grace him with your presence.

when you finally appear in front of him you don’t say anything, just shoot him your usual friendly smile while precariously placing a napkin and mug of black coffee in front of him before leaving as quickly as you came. this sends jay into an emotional spiral. oh god, did i do something wrong? he ponders to himself, brows furrowed as he tries to remember everything he said to you during your last interaction that could have potentially been misconstrued.

only then does he notice the blue ink poking out from the napkin tucked underneath his steaming mug of coffee. with shaky hands he pulls it out and reads the short message written in your refined penmanship:

my shift is done at 10:00 pm.

wait for me? :)

y/n

and just below your neat scrawl he can make out a sticky lip gloss print, a faint hint of the fake strawberry scent that plagues his mind day and night still lingering.

in this moment he should be happy, ecstatic, victorious even! his constant and obsequious devotion to you has not gone unnoticed, and at long last he’ll be alone with you in a place that doesn’t have checkered tile floors and posters of pin ups on every square inch of the teal coloured walls. but no, all he feels is embarrassment.

embarrassment because he was too much of a wiener to actually do something so you felt the need to take matters into your own hands. and embarrassment because your little napkin love letter signed off with your glossy kiss is making him excruciatingly horny. it’s like he’s in highschool all over again - yikes.

he glances at the face of the silver watch that he scarcely takes off, the leather wrist strap now feeling uncomfortably tight considering his recent spike in blood pressure. with some reluctance he decides to leave early, tucking your napkin note into his pocket before driving home while barely focusing on the road and cars in front of him.

the hangout with jake and the rest of his friends is excruciating as expected. time seems to both fly by and drag on simultaneously, and he watches the hands on his watch tick down the hours, minutes, seconds until he can finally be with you - alone. when jake finally throws the towel in jay all but runs out of the door, speeding down the now far emptier city streets before pulling into the dining parking lot and waiting (he’s 23 minutes early).

with every passing minute his heart rate quickens and, when the time reads 10:06 pm, he thinks he’s going to faint when he sees you exit your place of work and scan the parking lot briefly before making your way over to his car. the sound of his passenger side door opening feels far off as he tries to make sense of the fact that you are about to be in his car, right beside him. what the fuck.

“hi.”

“i like your car.”

“oh, you do?”

“yep. it suits you.”

“really?”

you only nod at this, flashing him a subtle grin before flipping down the sun visor in front of you to tidy up your appearance after a long and tiring shift (he still thinks you look pretty). it feels as if his fingers aren’t his own as he fiddles with the radio while gazing at you through his peripherals, watching as you rub the smudged mascara from underneath your eyes before applying a final coat of the lip gloss that he loves oh so much. how on earth is he going to last longer than 5 minutes without falling at your feet?

“sooo what do you wanna do?” jay questions, unsure if his eagerness to hear your response is because he’s genuinely curious or because he just likes the sound of your voice.

“you choose, take me anywhere,” you offer with a smile, “surprise me!”

“okay!” he responds, narrowly escaping a voice crack as he shifts his car into reverse.. he has just the place in mind.

the drive is somewhat of a lengthy one, although you don’t seem to mind. it’s warm enough to have the windows down, and jay greedily gulps down deep breaths of the fresh night air. from your spot in the passenger seat you ramble about your day at the diner, complaining about an old man who held the ketchup bottle the wrong way and promptly squirted it all over you when you came to ask how he was doing. despite all, you still manage to have a positive attitude.

soon enough he’s pulling off of the main road into an opening surrounded by woods, killing the engine and the car lights and opting to bask in the natural glow of the night sky.

“wow jay, way to be subtle.”

“what!!?”

“what do you mean what? you bring me to the city’s unofficial official makeout spot and expect me to not be skeptical?”

fuck. for the entirety of the drive over he was hoping that you wouldn’t know about the promiscuous reputation this spot has garnered over the years. he can’t give up this quickly though, he must play innocent!

“i- woahh, is that what this place is? i genuinely had no idea i just-”

“shut it jay, the first thing i noticed about you was that you’re a terrible liar.”

you’ve got him there, deception is not his strong suit. he’s about to explain himself when he notices you unbuckling your seatbelt and stepping out of his car, prompting him to do the same.

“i just thought it would be a nice, secluded space where we could talk and hang out… nothing more.”

silence settles over the two of you and, upon noting jay’s queasy expression, you decide to indulge yourself and tease him (just a little bit).

“what are you trying to say?” you bat your eyelashes and fake being in thought, “that you don’t wanna fuck me on the hood of your car?”

he chokes on his saliva.

“w-what i’m trying to say is that i’m a uhhhh gentleman. i’m a gentleman.”

yeah right, you think to yourself. a gentleman and a major fucking hypocrite.

“okay jay, if you’re such a gentleman then why do you have a raging hard-on from literally just talking to me?”

in the pale moonlight you see his eyes widen before he scrambles to cover his crotch, not doing much to conceal his erection that’s straining against his slacks.

“oh god i’m so sorry i can explain uhh-”

“i’m just fucking with you,” you taunt before petting his hair affectionately, attempting to quieten your giggles while jay plasters on a fake smile even though he looks like he’s about to puke. in an attempt to garner the little composure he has left he turns away from you, the cool night air soothing his heated cheeks.

from where he’s standing he’s granted an overarching view of the city he calls home. against the nighttime sky he can decipher the suburbs, the downtown area, the cafe district. upon each building there’s a small rectangle filled with yellow or white light, windows in which individual people are carrying out their individual lives; it makes everything seem so… miniscule. i mean, aside from you, nobody even knows he’s up here - and he’s still trying to decipher if that’s a good thing or not, seeing as tonight all he’s done is embarrass himself.

when he looks back you’re leaning against the hood of his car, your arms folded across your chest which sequentially shoves your tits together in a way that makes him wanna plunge his face in between them and give you a good old fashioned motorboat.

his thoughts are cut off when you speak up.

“i brought you something,” you announce before turning and opening the passenger side door of jay’s car, trifling around in your before before pulling something out and heading back to where you were standing before, leaning against the hood of his car. in your hands is a toppled over piece of red velvet cake protected by a clear plastic takeout container coupled with two disposable forks.

“sorry it’s kinda smushed…. i forgot about it.”

“no, that’s ok!” jay thinks you shouldn’t have to apologize for anything ever, “thank you.”

with a crisp pop you open up the container, moving it to sit in between the two of you before passing jay one of the flimsy plastic forks. he lets you take the first bite, stating that after a long shift you need to get your blood sugar back up. you laugh before complying, watching as jay takes a bite right after you do, his eyes rolling back as all of the sweet, rich flavours dance across his taste buds. despite the piece of cake not being in the best condition, it still tastes like heaven.

jay’s caught off guard when your hand suddenly swoops in just as he’s about to spear another piece of cake with his fork, collecting a dollop of icing on one of your nails. he should’ve seen it coming when you reach up and wipe it on the tip of his nose with a playful laugh.

“wow y/n, so original,” he sneers while wiping the cream cheese icing on his nose onto the back of his hand.

he attempts to do the same to you, dipping his finger in the thick frosting before moving to wipe it on the tip of your nose, but you suddenly latch onto his wrist. he watches with hungry eyes and an erratic pulse as your tongue comes in contact with his knuckle, licking all the way up to his icing-coated fingertip before taking his digit inside your mouth. the thick muscle of your tongue wraps around his finger, sucking away the sweetness before you pull yourself off of him. a faint pink ring of lip gloss on the base of his knuckle now present.

fuck me.

not a single word is exchanged before jay pushes himself onto you, prompting you to lean back against the hood of his car that’s still slightly warm. with your body weight resting on your elbows and your legs spreading to accommodate jay’s torso, you finally let him taste you.

your lips are soft and warm like a pastry fresh out of the oven, and when he pulls away he heaves a heavenly sigh filled with pleasure and contentment and thank fuck this is finally happening. it’s not long before you’re pressing your lips to jay’s again, one of your hands moving up to caress the shell of his ear before resting against his face.

you can feel his jaw move against your palm when he opens his mouth and drags his tongue across your sugar coated lips, inducing you to do the same. when his tongue pushes past your teeth and brushes against yours you groan in pleasure, the fingers previously gracing his face dipping down to undo several buttons of your work shirt. with his lips against yours and his tongue down your throat you can feel him giving into you, as if you’re a delectable piece of his favourite candy and he has a raging sweet tooth.

when jay pulls himself off of you you think you might just cry. luckily you don’t go without his touch for long, for when you open your eyes you watch him dip two fingers into the frosting on top of the forgotten slice of cake before smearing it across the exposed flesh of your tits and down your sternum. he promptly shoves the two frosting coating fingers into your gaping mouth, gazing at you with heart eyes as you suck them clean.

only then does he dip his head down, the tip of his tongue teasing the sensitive skin of your right breast before licking the stripe of icing off with one broad swipe of his tongue. he gives your other breast the same treatment before giving it teasing nips and kisses, using his tongue to soothe the pinch of his canines.

once he licks the rest of the frosting from your sternum he continues his descent, not stopping until the insides of your thighs are brushing against his pierced ears. in one swift movement he flips your skirt upwards, your pretty panties with a subtle wet patch now on display for him and only him.

not being able to resist seeing your bare cunt in all of its glory, jay eagerly digs two fingers into the waistband before dragging the fabric down your legs. your lacy pink thong gets all twisted and tangled around your ankles as jay struggles to pull it off, eventually managing to get it around your sneakers before tucking it into his pocket for safe keeping.

he feels his pants grow impossibly tights as he stares at you on the hood of your car with your legs spread, quite literally something that could’ve been torn right out of a playboy. without missing a beat jay dives into you, flattening his thick tongue and licking you like he would a dripping ice cream cone. it catches you by surprise and you instinctively tangle your fingers in his ebony tresses, a needy moan making its way past your lips and into the air. jay uses the tip of his tongue to explore your needy pussy, lapping up your juices and revelling in the taste on his tongue. i could die like this he thinks, and he digs his blunt nails into your thighs while shoving his head impossibly deeper.

it’s somewhat sloppy, but what he lacks in technique he makes up for in enthusiasm. it feels like he’s practically making out with your cunt and you can’t help yourself from tugging on his hair in approval. the groans he emits in response have you shuddering, the vibrations causing your legs to shake and tremble as you struggle to keep them pried open. in your lower abdomen you can feel the pressure of an impending orgasm begin to brew.

this sensation only doubles when jay shifts his focus to your clit, sucking on and toying with it like it’s a sugar-covered gumdrop. his actions have you arching your back off of the hood of his car, eyes squeezing shut as you cry and plead, “p-please don’t stop jay… never stop.”

your pleas boost jay’s ego to the max and he eats you out with unrestrained passion, alternating between sucking your clit and tonguing your hole until you finish all over his mouth with a canorous cry that reverberates between his ears. he hopes to never forget that sound.

with reluctance he pulls himself off of your sweet pussy, having to push your legs apart slightly to free himself from the way they were clenching around his head. he stares at you in awe as you bask in the post-orgasm sensation, mouth agape and chest heaving faintly. your eyes, when you finally pry them open, are slightly glassy and it looks like it takes you a second to come back to earth.

your grip on jay’s hair loosened but you never fully let go, and soon enough he feels you tugging at his roots in an attempt to get him to hover over you once again. without hesitation you press your lips to his once again, tasting yourself in and on his mouth as you kiss him until you can’t breathe.

his curious hands never stay resting in one spot on your body for longer than a second before he’s exploring somewhere else, his mouth making a path from your lips down to your jaw and neck. the tips of his fingers finally stop when they reach your hips, gripping onto your and flipping you over so your chest is against jay’s car and your ass is up in the air.

he can’t help himself from ogling at your perfect form all splayed out for him. the curve of your ass is to die for and jay starts subconsciously unbuckling his belt, easing the strain of his pants against his painfully hard dick.

from your spot on top of the car you begin to grow impatient. your tits are smushed and your neck is craned and even though you just came you’re already ready for another one if it means you get to feel jay filling you up like a cream puff. luckily, you soon feel the tip of jay’s cock dragging through your folds, your still-sensitive clit throbbing slightly when he bumps into it. the sound of jay spitting into his palm joins that of the crickets and your erratic breathing, soon replaced by his sighs of delight as he strokes his cock with his spit covered hand to help lube it up.

you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in when you finally feel him prod your entrance with his tip, although you can sense some hesitancy. it’s not surprising when the silence is broken by jay asking: “...are you ready?”

he feels his chest tighten when you make a noise of approval followed by a meek nod, your starry eyes glancing back at him as much as you can in this particular position. with a hefty exhale he nods back before slowly starting to sink into you, a low groan making its way out of his chest as he pushes deeper and deeper until his hips are flush with your ass.

once fully inside of you he remains stagnant for a moment, needing to adjust to how incredibly warm and tight you feel if he wants to last longer than three seconds. soon enough he feels he’s garnered enough collectedness to start moving, so he does.

his movements are small, almost timid at first. like he’s testing the waters, garnering enough confidence to go harder, faster. your hushed whimpers of pleasure ring in his ears and he teasingly rolls his hips in an attempt to have you feel him impossibly deeper inside of you.

“j-jay!” you cry when he seemingly bumps your g-spot with the tip of his cock, the muscles of your waist tensing up when he does. wanting to provide you as much pleasure as possible he continues his ministrations, not altering them in any way out of fear of doing something wrong.

jay feels his stomach start to seize up as a pleasurable burn takes hold in his lower stomach, his vision blurring slightly at the edges as he shifts between groaning aloud and biting his lip so hard he’s worried he’ll break the skin and draw blood. with exercised caution he picks up the pace, ensuring that in this moment you’re still feeling as good as he is.

his cock slips in and out of your desperate, dripping hole with ease, your hips banging against the unyielding metal hood of his car with each and every thrust. it’s hardly comfortable, but at this moment in time you think you’d rather die than have jay stop - so you persevere.

“god you’re so good jay, so fucking big,” you praise as you feel your second orgasm of the night approaching steadily. most of your limbs have started to go numb from the position you’re in yet you can feel each and every nerve end slowly begin to burn up, to bring you closer and closer to release. when jay reaches down to toy with your aching clit, you’re done for.

the slight ache from the way your cunt is stretched around his cock adds to the jolting sensations that come every time he bumps your clit has you so close, so close you can taste the sweet promise of an orgasm dancing on the tip of your tongue. jay feels it too, for he throws all inhibitions to the wind and fucks you from behind with no restraint.

he can feel his release creep up his spine and spread through all of his limbs until it’s all he can see, taste, and feel. groans continue to spill past his lips as white hot light floods his senses and a blinding orgasm washes over him, which is only strengthened by the sensation of your pussy clenching around his cock as you finish underneath him. he cums inside of your wanting cunt, filling it up to the brim before collapsing on top of you with a grunt.

seconds turn into minutes and the two of you remain in place, breaths and pulses struggling to return to normal as you come down from an intense high. jay can feel his shirt clinging to his sweaty back, and he scrambles off of you when he realizes he was quite literally resting all of his weight on you.

with a helping hand he helps you sit up, chuckling slightly when your knees turn to jello when you try to stand up. so, you opt to stay seated on the hood of jay’s car for just a few more moments, patting the spot beside you to get him to sit down. you’re sure you look like a mess, but jay gazes at you with something that can only be described as awe.

smitten. captivated. enraptured. allured.

the pale light of the moon casts a heavenly glow across your face, and he kisses your lips like they’re covered in strawberry syrup.

a/n: tumblr’s editing system is the biggest piece of garbage i am so sorry if there are any weird glitches or anything but i am literally seconds away from whipping my laptop at the wall out of frustration as i edit this so pls lmk if anything looks weird when this posts lawl thank you

#enhypen smut #park jay smut #park jongseong smut #enhypen imagines #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen blurbs #enhypen x reader #park jongseong x reader #park jay x reader #jay park x reader #park jongseong fanfiction #park jay fanfiction #park jongseong blurbs #park jay blurbs

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sepherinaspoppies · 4 months

Text

Tell It To My Heart

pairing: Original Male Character x Modern! Reader x Dark! Book Aemond Targaryen

summary: In her honeymoon with her new husband, Armando, she can not help but crave her first husband's touch, Aemond.

warnings: mentions of slight violence, handjob, p and v sex, and future spoilers to my main story. reader is Latina!

wc: 2,478

main story masterlist

my masterlist

notes: I'm still deciding if I should let Armando live or not lol. but anyways enjoy besties! btw Armando's face claim is Danny Ramirez ;)

“M’ not drunk, mi amor.” (my love)

Armando bibulously says as she settles her, now husband, into their honeymoon bed. She chuckles, shaking her head side to side in disbelief. “Sure you aren’t, I’ll be the judge of that in the morning when you wake up with that hangover.” She playfully quipped back, untying Armando’s shoes to get him nice and comfortable.

“Well I had to drink for two since you can’t—”

“Hmm, I never asked you to drink for me, Armando.” She continued to tease, holding his gaze.

Armando smiled lovingly before he sat up straight as his tipsy self could, “I know you didn’t but I wanted to, Mrs. Flores.” It was not the new surname that made her blush beet red, but the low and suggestive timbre of his voice.

Armando’s smile slowly abated into an angry expression as his eyes trailed from the precious diamond wedding he slid hours ago, to the faded scars around her wrists. One could hardly see them from afar but up close where he sat, he was able to make out thick circular and pink markings.

Armando had known the cause for such ghastliness. She had confessed the whole elusive truth to Armando, in the following weeks she had moved in with him to Oaxaca. It happened when Armando started growing concern for the sixth time in a row, waking up to ear-piercing screams in the middle of the night from his fiance.

She expected him to push her away or call her crazy, that she’d been forcefully transported into a world she only knew existed in books. Armando’s expression showed nothing of disbelief or skepticism, he listened to everything attentively letting his amor explain it all to him. (love)

What Armando could not wrap his head around, was what kind of man could ever do such malice in the name of love? Love is kind, tender, and respectful. At least that’s how Armando grew up with defining it.

Now that they were finally together, he vowed that he would never hurt or mistreat his wife. And may the Gods strike him down if he ever did.

She trembled as her curly headed husband brought her hands closely to study them. His touch was delicate, making sure he didn’t press too firmly on the pink scars.

“I meant what I said in my vows,” Armando softly speaks, his brown eyes holding steady against her own. “That I will never hurt or mistreat you.”

“I know you won’t.”

“But at any given point that I do, you can smash a wine bottle on my head too.” Armand laughed, and immediately she threw her head back, joining in to his giggles.

After she explained all the details of her grand escape, Armando tried to hide his amused smile, proud that she’d knocked Aemond out with a wine bottle to his head. Though what was more hysterical, was Aemond orgasming in the process. She did not mention that to Armando, not that he needed to know.

Armando’s hands intertwined with her own as his lips brushed the skin where her scars laid, giving featherlike pecks all around. She sighed, closing her eyes, comforted by the feeling of her new husband’s warmth.

“As long as I’m alive, you and our child are safe.” Armado promised devoutly. If it were possible, her heart almost soared out of her chest.

When Armando confessed his love for her, minutes before he got down on one knee, she had asked him if he could still love her pregnant with another man’s baby. That did not discourage Armando one bit, the twenty-five year old loved her and the child she was carrying. To him a baby was one of the greatest blessings a couple could have, and Armando would help raise and care for their child like a good husband would do.

In Armando’s eyes, the frijolito was his too. (little bean)

Blood doesn’t make you family. Family is who is there by your side, through the good and the bad and who love you regardless.

Armando paused, his face becoming crestfallen. “I-I know you may not love me—” He stuttered full of nerves before she interrupted.

“Armando.”

“But… I do want this marriage to work. And I’m willing to wait as many decades more until you are ready to give me your corazón.” (heart)

She hesitantly shifted, before she swung her legs to either side of Armando’s to sit on his lap. Armando’s eyes widened in full surprise, taken back at her sudden boldness. They’ve never sat this close before nor been in such an intimate position.

They have kissed, yes, but only mere pecks to each other’s cheeks and once on the lips when the priest declared them as man and wife.

Armando knew his wife had no love for physical contact. Especially if she did not see it coming. After both Alys and Aemond, she wanted no one close to touching her. Though, she did feel guilty when Armando would approach her in a hug after coming home tired from work.

Little by little she tried to work over her fear. First it was holding pinkies to the mercado but with a good distance between them. Then once that voice inside her head became hushed, she granted him permission to hold her hand out in public, shoulder to shoulder. (market)

The pecks began when a certain desire started blooming inside her. It was natural, of course, her doctor told her so. So when Armando came home with a bag full of tacos and a bundle of her favorite flowers, she approached him with multiple kisses to his face.

Later on that night, she ashamedly humped her pillow with Aemond’s tunic she kept during her escape back to the modern world. For some reason she could not explain, she didn’t get rid of it. The lustful part of her was overjoyed she didn’t as she used it for the sweet release her body deeply craved.

In such a position, she could smell Armando’s sandalwood cologne and admire the freckles she never knew he had. She thought about what Alys had said, about opening her heart out to him.

Little by little.

“Mi corazón es tuyo.” She whispered softly, her lips brushing his. Armando didn’t have time to respond, choosing rather to tug the back of her neck to close the thin gap between them. (my heart is yours)

He groaned at the softness of her lips he desperately yearned for. Her kiss topped any others his lips laid on. The sort of kiss worth dying for. If she didn’t want to continue further, Armando could finish just by this alone.

She swiped her tongue on his bottom lip, requesting access before he granted it to her. His kiss was the opposite to what Aemond’s had been. With Aemond, it was needy, rushed, and possessive. But Armando kissed her delicately, without hurry, and most importantly consensually.

Armando began to whine as her hips started to slightly rock against his pelvis, where he knew his member was surely growing hard.

“Wait,” Armando suddenly pulled away. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this. I’m perfectly content with just watching our telenovela and ordering some tortas and aguas frescas.”

She giggled, using her hands to push his chest down onto the bed. “It is our honeymoon, it would be a shame if we didn’t break the bed in.” Besides they could do all that in the comfort of their home, she wholeheartedly wanted him.

“I’m sure I want this, Armando.”

It was all Armando needed to hear, but before acting he needed to confess something he thought was embarrassing. “Um, I’m gonna need you to help me. I’ve actually never done this before and I reckon one of us oughta know what they’re doing.” He admitted with his eyes casting downward.

Her jaw dropped at his unexpected confession, “You’re a virgin?” She reassured, wanting to hear it again. Armando nodded with his eyes closed, awaiting for her to get off him. Though he wished she didn’t.

“I’ve only done it once, though I don’t recall much of it. We can both figure it out together.” She figured that if he confessed something private about him, so could she.

Armando opened his eyes and gave her an encouraging smile.

They began making a work out of their clothes, she anxiously chuckled when she couldn’t reach the zipper of her dress but with Armando’s help the garment slid right down at her waist, exposing her bare breasts to Armando’s curious eyes.

“Beautiful.” He murmured loud enough for her to hear. With a nod of approval, he palmed each heavy breast and almost immediately pulled back as she gasped in both relief and pleasure, small beads of milk running down his fingers.

Armando hummed at the taste, it was sweet. He found himself a little jealous of their unborn child for it would be dining on her sweet breasts.

“Please use your mouth,” She abashedly pleaded, pushing her breasts close to his face. Armando didn’t need to be told twice, he took each pebbled nipple to his mouth, swirling and suckling his tongue, digesting her sweetness.

She sighed, lacing her fingers through his curls, tugging his head back for another kiss. Little droplets of her milk remained on his lips yet she didn’t care.

Armando’s free hand pulled down the rest of her dress off, leaving her with just her white lacy underwear. He cheekily smiled, it had been a gift from him for their wedding but she was unaware of it.

Her fingers unlooped the red tie around Armando’s neck, throwing it somewhere across the room along with his dress shirt. She let her hands wander around the smoothness of his chest, feeling his heart race at her palm.

Armando shuddered once her fingers started to trail down the patch hair right below his belly button, stopping right on the belt of his pants. “Can I?” She questioned, nudging her head to where he needed her the most.

Armando fervently nodded, “Gods, yes, please. I think I’ll die if you don’t.”

She giggled, unbuckling the belt, his pants and boxers down his legs. With curiosity, she let her eyes linger on his cock. It was a good length. Enough to not hurt her the slightest. Where Aemond’s was impressively long and overly thick, Armando was less smaller yet firmer.

She thought about what her friends had told her: “Sometimes big doesn’t always mean great.”

Gods she hoped so.

She reached forward, wrapping her hand around his length, hot, heavy, and pulsating. Armando mewled, instinctively bucking his hips up desperate for some friction. Wanting to give her husband just what he yearned, she began to give him slow pumps up and down his length. His sounds of pleasure increased and she found herself also releasing soft moans, getting wetter and wetter by it alone.

“Shit, I’m gonna come.” Armando heavily panted. She worked her hand faster, brushing her thumb lightly on his flushed tip, causing him to stutter his release.

There was a dazed look in Armando’s eyes as he tried to take in the aftereffects of his climax. However, the sight of his wife bringing her come-covered hand to her mouth, instantly made him grow hard again.

By all means, Armando’s taste wasn’t unpleasant and it resembled the amounts of oranges he often ate.

She leaned forward to kiss Armando again, allowing him to taste how sweet he was. He ardently kissed her back with equal fervor, flipping them around so that she laid beneath him. Her huge bump pressed against his lower stomach, a primal feeling he absolutely loved.

After pulling down her underwear, Armando slowly started to make his way down between her thighs, when she looped her fingers through his hair. “I want you right now,” She writhed against the sheets.

Armando arched a brow, “You don’t want me to return the favor?” He pouted whilst looking down there. She shook her head, wrapping her legs around his waist.

Though Armando wanted to have just a simple taste of her goodness, he did as she wished for. He gave himself a few more tugs before swiping his tip between her folds, gathering some of her excessive wetness to not hurt her as he went inside.

Her eyes, which she did not realize were closed, shot open. There was a slight sting, not painful enough to move away but sufficient to feel little shocks of pleasure. With Aemond, it had hurt even with the two rounds of preparation before with his mouth and fingers.

Armando’s eyes rolled at the back of his head, he didn’t know if he could last in such paradise he felt. She was so warm, wet, and tight around him.

He took a deep breath and with a nod of encouragement, he slowly thrust his hips at an angle that made her squeeze his length so deliciously. “You feel so good, amor. So fucking good,” Armando praised, rubbing his palm around her belly.

She moaned against his neck at the praise. While the speed of his thrusts felt good, it wasn’t enough to get her there. She wanted him to go faster and harder, to fill every single crevice within her that desperately needed to be filled.

Shame started to loom at her as she subconsciously knew she craved the way Aemond hit that special spot inside that had her moaning loud, deep in the castle of Harrenhal.

Even universes away she craved him.

And she hated it.

“Faster, please.” She pleaded, bucking her hips up with his thrusts.

Armando halted, moving his head out of her neck. “I don't want to hurt the baby.” Last thing Armando wanted was to cause her premature labor. She was still months away from her due date but he didn’t want to risk it.

She shook her head, “You won’t, please. Por favor amor, I need it.” (please love)

Armando hesitantly quickened his thrusts, feeling his euphoric release closely approaching.

She rolls her hips against his, it was slightly better but still not enough. She almost wanted to cry in desperation, instead she grips Armando’s hips, guiding him into that special spot. Her grip was vice-like causing Armando to hiss in both pain and pleasure. He only needed a few more thrusts to near his end.

She moans when she starts to feel it. “Oh Gods,” She whimpered, digging her nails on Armando’s hip bones, tugging him deeper and harder similar to Aemond’s movements.

Armando’s release washes over him like a tide. He never felt this good before, especially with the woman he always loved. He lets his wife chase her pleasure like the good husband he is.

But what he hears next causes his loving smile to drop.

“Oh, Aemond!”

Notes: I'm sorry Armando lol.

#aemond targaryen x reader #dark aemond x reader #aemond targaryen fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aemond one eye #Spotify

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theemporium · 1 year

Note

ooh, looked at all the prompts and uh “It’s not like this with them.” with trevor? please and thank you

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

“Can you please come pick him up?”

“Jamie—”

“Please. You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t an emergency.”

When you had settled down on your couch earlier that weekend, you had expected to have an easy night in. You had a frozen pizza ready to be demolished, a bottle of wine in the fridge and a new season of a tv show you vaguely remembered the plot of to keep you entertained for the night.

Now, somewhere after midnight, you were driving through the roads of Anaheim to go collect Trevor from some bar that Jamie had set you the address of. Usually, this wouldn’t have been a problem. In fact, you probably would have laughed at the whole time and teased the boy about it in the morning.

Usually being the operative word.

Because you actually hadn’t spoken to Trevor for around a week now.

It was stupid. So fucking stupid. You weren’t sure if the fight bothered you, or if you just felt stupid for asking the question in the first place. But you never thought it would have blown up the way it did.

You and Trevor had been seeing each other for a while now. Weeks of texting turned into late night phone calls even when he was on the other side of the country. Hang outs in his flat turned into fun dates where he absolutely spoiled you.

Nobody had made you feel the way Trevor did.

You had been at his and Jamie’s flat like you usually were on your day off. You had ordered takeout, watched a movie, cuddled on the couch and then you two were just talking. It hadn’t even meant to be a heavy question because honestly, you thought it was obvious. After the dates and the texts and spending almost every day since you had met talking in some way, you thought it was so fucking obvious.

So, does this mean I can call you my boyfriend now?

A casual question that turned into a full blown screaming match between the two of you until you had left the apartment in tears in the middle of the night and he had stormed off to his room, slamming the door loudly behind him.

Neither one of you had spoken or seen each other since then.

Until now.

“I’m sorry—” Jamie started but you just shook your head.

“It’s fine,” you said with a strained smile as the defenceman helped you get the boy into the car.

He was drunk. Maybe drunk didn’t even begin to cover how fucked he was. He was smashed, absolutely fucking gone and it was not a new sight. Since the night of your fight, he had been on a downwards spiral. Usually it was just snappy comments to teammates or trying to instigate more fights on the game they had a few days ago.

But it had never gotten to the point of him drinking his feelings away.

“You came for me,” he giggled as he slumped in the car seat, turning his head to stare at you. “I didn’t think you would come for me.”

“I came because Jamie asked,” you stated simply, keeping your eyes on the road instead of the boy next to you.

Surprisingly, Trevor had stayed silent for the rest of the drive, which was very unusual for him. Usually you couldn’t shut him up, even when he was drunk. But the boy hadn’t spoken a peep.

He didn’t say a single word as you helped him out of the car, his arm thrown over your shoulder and your arm wound around his waist. He didn’t say a word as you helped him into your flat, guiding him towards your spare room. He didn’t say a word as you handled him a glass of water and ordered him to drink it.

He didn’t say a word until you turned to leave.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled as his hand darted out to grip your waist, to prevent you from walking away. “I don’t like fighting with you.”

“You seem to like it a lot when you’re sober,” you couldn’t help but bite back. A week of emotions were bubbling inside you, and you couldn’t make them stop.

“I didn’t mean it,” he admitted to you, his eyes blinking slowly as he stared up at you with those damn puppy dog eyes. “I didn’t mean any of it.”

You swallowed the lump in the back of your throat. “Then why did you say it?”

“I got scared,” he confessed in a shy voice, one that was so unlike him. “Usually I don’t really care and everything is just a bit of fun. Usually girls say it and I just let them say it. I let them call me their boyfriend.”

You tried to ignore the way your heart pinched. “So I just didn’t make the cut?”

He shook his head, tugging you closer by your wrist. “No, no. It’s just…it’s not like this with them.”

Your brows furrowed together in confusion. “Like what?”

“You make my heart go really fast,” he murmured as he looked up at you with big, glossy eyes and pouty lips. “And I feel like I always have butterflies when you’re near me. And it should be so fucking scary but…I don’t think it scares me. I like it. I like it a lot. I like you a lot and it scared me that I wasn’t scared. It scared me that I wanted so much more with you and I didn’t know if you’d feel the same.”

Your features softened. “Trev—”

“I promise I didn’t mean it,” his voice was quiet and raspy. “I don’t like fighting. I don’t wanna keep fighting. I don’t wanna lose you.”

“You’re not gonna lose me,” you murmured as you shifted your hand out of his grasp, moving to push his hair back and watching as his eyes fluttered shut with the action. “Get some sleep. We will talk in the morning.”

Trevor looked like he wanted to argue but he was cut off by his own yawn. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

#trevor zegras #nhl #anaheim ducks #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras x you #trevor zegras x y/n #trevor zegras fic #trevor zegras one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

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acourtofmarvels · 1 year

Text

Surprise - Cassian

Warnings: none really, cute fluff. mentions of sex n stuff lol

Word count: 694

"Does it hurt?" I asked sheepishly. I felt so guilty. And a little bit proud of myself, but don't tell Cassian that.

He groaned in response. I could tell he was trying not to blow up on me. I hit him pretty hard.

"I'm sorry, baby." I sat beside him on the bed. I took the ice from his hand and held it onto his head myself. "At least you don't have a concussion."

"At least we know training is working. You got me good." He tried to smile at me but only winced in the process.

"You startled me! I wasn't expecting anyone to be at the house." And I smashed a bottle of wine over his head. It wasn't a small bottle either.

Rhys told me they were gonna be gone all day and most likely wouldn't get back tomorrow. Rhys always informs me when they are on their way home, then I can expect Cassian to come and see me.

"I expect a blowjob after this." Even in pain he's horny and inappropriate. I honestly shouldn't be surprised he said that.

Cassian was... unexpected for me. This thing between us happened one night and never stopped. At some point it was just a fling, then we said we were exclusive. Next thing I know we're all in and dating.

Our relationship never should have happened. We had a one night stand on a drunken holiday. And the next morning we slept with each other again. Cassian never did relationships. He was a go with the flow kind of guy and always said he never had the time for it.

I was just wanting sex. No strings and the kind that made your legs weak afterwards. Cassian exceeded expectations. We've been friends for so long now and I've heard from other girls I know whom he's slept with, that he's great in bed. Don't tell him this cause it will just boost his massive ego, but he's the best I've ever had.

"I feel like I should get an award for my marvelously teaching. I think I taught you too well." He groaned and layed back on the bed, taking the ice with him. "Cauldron boil me, I can't believe you got the drop on me like that. You're lucky I love you, babe. If any other person had done this to me-"

"You love me?" I blurt out, my eyes wide.

Cassian halts mid-sentence. He looked genuinely confused as if he had no clue what I just questioned. But he said it. I heard it loud and clear. I think my heart nearly stopped beating when he said it. He said he loved me.

"You just said it." I was fighting the urge to smile. Cause what if he didn't mean it? What if the hit had really messed him up. Oh shit did I rattle his brain with that wine bottle?

"I..." He cleared his throat, slowly bringing the ice down from his head to look at me. "Well, damn. I guess I did."

My heart is racing. He didn't deny it, yet.

"D-did you mean it?" I had to ask. I would give him the way out if he needed it. This was serious for us. I mean, we didn't even want to be in a relationship at first, let alone fall in love.

A small smile crept up on his face. When he nods I feel immediately relieved. I moved over beside him, running my fingers through his hair like I always did. "Say it again." The words nearly came out as a beg.

He moaned and ran a hand down his face. "Come on, sweetheart. Don't make me say it again. It's bad enough that I said it first. That's never happened before." His arrogant tone deserved a slap on the arm from me. But then I couldn't help but climb onto his lap and attack his face with kisses. His body shakes under mine from laughing.

"On a scale from one to ten how badly does your head really hurt? Because I don't know if you know this about me but, emotional intimacy really turns me on. And you just told me you loved me, and I sure as hell am completely head over heels in love with you. And I think we should have sex right now."

His gaze on me darkens, his hands grip my hips firmly. "Suddenly I feel a whole lot better."

inspired by The Score by Elle Kennedy

Acotar Masterlist

#cassian #cassian x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #acotar fanfic #cassian fanfic #cassian fanfiction #cassian imagine #azriel #cassian fluff #cassian acosf #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acomaf

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gojo-mochi · 1 year

Note

mmm softy for your LOVELY event gimme that vampire! sabo pleaseee🙏🏼 he’s my gentleman 🥹 even tho he bites when I don’t behave BSBEJEJBDBDB—

CW: Fem!Reader wearing a dress, blood sucking (of course), bit of manipulation and dub-con but reader is into it, P/V, sort of voyeurism?, Vampire!Sabo, Part of my Kinktober event!

3.8k words (GOD WHAT HAPPENED HERE)

A/N: I don't know what happened at the end of this.. I blacked out.. Blame sabo..

Realizing your cup was empty you went to the bar area in the kitchen to refill, knowing that you won’t survive this party without some sort of vice. You shuffle pass dancing and drunk bodies, reaching the kitchen with minimum damage. You huff out, rolling back your shoulders and stretching a little, happy to finally have some breathing room. There were a few others also in the kitchen, some trying to flirt (unsuccessfully) and others coming and going to refill their drink of choice.

The usual suspects were there, the plastic tub full of a bright color liquid mixture, various cheap bottles of vodka and tequila laying around, and… wine? Was there someone really drinking wine at this party? Yes there was, and he was in a very historial looking vampire outfit as well. Slightly curly blonde hair underneath a black top hat with goggles around the middle, a long black coat with the inner lining being a dark red color and the iconic high collar, a ruffled white satin poet blouse underneath the coat, and all finished with a dark blue high-waisted pants and high buckled boots to match.

Not to mention, the obvious fangs poking out from his pretty pale lips that completed this whole outfit. He swirls around some dark red colored liquid in his wine glass as well, his tongue delicately sticking out just a little as he goes to drink his wine. Obviously it's just wine, no one would be insane enough to bring and drink actual blood just for a costume party right? That you want to believe at least, not realizing that you've been openly ogling at this man all this time.

Only when your eyes came back up to his face did you realize that he was also staring directly at you, his lips tugs back into a charming smile, his gloved hands; ‘Holy shit, he’s wearing black gloves too?! That just added to his hotness factor.’ reaches two fingers out to you, pointing at you once then motioning to himself in a “Come hither” fashion. You crushed the red solo cup in your hand as you felt butterflies fly up from your stomach at this simple gesture. Your body moved automatically soon after, like it was under a spell.

Stepping right up to the blonde vampire, his hand now cupping your chin so you were forced to stare deeply in his red eyes.. ‘Wait red…? I thought he had dark brown eyes…..?’ Your thoughts slowly start to slip away from you, only to slam back in when you hear a polished and low voice whisper to you. “And who might you be, my delectable little snack?” Your eyes widen and you step back away from the stranger. Your head spins a little, causing your body to sway back right in the arms of the stranger.

“Easy there, can’t have you passing out on me already. I didn’t even get to do anything fun yet.” He chuckles, his hands smoothing over your shoulders and resting on the small of your back. You felt oddly safe in this position, usually by now you would have grabbed the nearest bottle and tried to smash over the guy’s head. Instead you just wanted to snuggle deeper, inhaling his scent of wine, a bite of leather, and something coppery at the end. You glance up when he brushes some hair away from your face, his eyes seemingly back to normal now… he smiles wide at you, showing off his very pearly white fangs.

“Well, are you going to tell me your name, pretty one? Or would you rather prefer to be called ‘My little snack’ this whole night, hmm?” His tone was light and airy, with a hint of mischief behind it. Feeling back to normal now yourself, you decide to have a little fun with this stranger. “Isn’t it rude to ask for someone else's name when you haven’t even told me your name first?” You tutted back, feeling bold, poking at his fluffy shirt collar, accidentally feeling up how much muscle he was hiding underneath.

He laughs quite loudly, wiping away some tears, his smile only getting wider as he apologizes to you. “Ah forgive me, the name’s Sabo.” He gingerly takes your hand in his and plants a kiss on the top of your hand, letting his fangs graze over your skin for a bit. You shudder at the feeling of his fangs almost breaking into your skin, the sensation made your skin burn even though Sabo felt strangely cold. Was it normal for a person's lips to be that freezing cold you wondered.

Pushing down the thought when Sabo tugs on your wrist as he awaits for your answer, you slip away from him. Twirling around and turning your head back towards him, a playful grin on your own face. “Ah sorry, Sabo. I still think you gotta work a bit more if you wanna know my name~” Sabo’s eyes twinkle, he drowns the remaining drink in his wine glass and sets it away, licking his lips and chuckling at your cute antics. “Oh~? And what do you have in mind for me to do, my little snack?” The way he said snack made you pause for a bit, thinking that he really meant it literally.

Still you press on, finally finding something fun to do at this party and you didn’t want it to end so fast. You danced around the kitchen counter, back to the crowd of dancing bodies; “Give me a five minute head start, I’ll go hide somewhere in the mansion and you have to come find me. Let's say… thirty-minute timer?” You purr out, not letting him answer before you went and disappeared in the crowd. Your heart beats wildly as you think of places to hide from Sabo.

Weaving through the crowd as you make your way to the stairs, going up to the second floor of the mansion and picking an empty room to hide in. After opening a few doors that were already occupied, some of them even asked you if you wanted to join in the fun. You went to sit on the bed in the empty room you chose, giggling to yourself like a schoolgirl. Kicking your feet out as you await for Sabo, wondering if he would find you in this huge mansion during the time limit. Maybe you would be nice after the time limit was up and give Sabo your name anyway.

This game was only a fun way to tease him after all, it's not like you didn’t find the man attractive, charming, and curiously alluring in a sense that you couldn’t take your eyes off of him at first look. So you waited, tapping away at your phone and watching the time tick by. What you didn’t know was that Sabo knew where you were this whole time, his eyes never leaving your body as you left him alone in the kitchen. He did wait five minutes, using his powers to track down your scent among all the others in the party. It was quite easy, since your scent was the most delicious thing he ever smelt so far.

As soon as the five minutes were over he moved silently and swiftly, erasing his presence completely from the other party goers as he followed your scent upstairs. His anger flaring up a bit as that scumbag tried to invite you in, but he held firm, he could deal with that guy later. He didn’t want to ruin this fun game you made for him after all. He watched as you found a room to hide in, softly sighing and smiling at your cuteness. If he had a beating heart he bet it would be beating for you right now.

Ignoring the other drunk and horny people on the floor, Sabo opened a window and flew out to the air. Making sure his presence was still erased and hidden as he flew around to the window of your room. Floating in the air as he watches you giggle to yourself, oh how precious you were. So innocent and unaware of his true nature, of the trap you put yourself into. So he waits and watches as you play around on your phone, your eyes and body twitching around, looking at the door, awaiting for his arrival.

His breathing gets faster and faster as time ticks by, he didn’t want to show up too early, but his hunger was growing deeper and deeper by the second as well. The blood he brought to the party tasted like sewer spill as soon as he caught a whiff of your scent on his tongue. Some drool threatened to leak out as he continued on watching you, still he wanted to make a dramatic entrance, waiting til the last minute of the countdown to open the window without a sound.

Your eyes were glued to the door so you didn't notice Sabo sneaking up behind you, his hands coming to hold your waist and grasp on your throat lightly. Only to come up over your mouth to muffle your startled scream. “Hey! Hey, it’s just me!” He pulls you closer, his grip on you tighter a bit, his voice going at a lower tone, his eyes flicking back to that strange color once more. “Calm down now, shush…shush….good girl.” Your body forcibly relaxes, flopping backwards into Sabo’s arms and chest. His hand now stroking at your head like one would on a pet.

Soothingly rubbing at your scalp, as the spell on you wears off. Your eyes blinking as your mind pieces itself back together to the present once again. “Sabo..? Sabo..! What the-!” You scramble off of him, clutching a hand over your racing heart. “How the hell did you-?! I mean! I was looking at the door this whole time?!” Awwww~ You looked like a scared little rabbit, it was honestly quite cute. The way you think your little glare would deter him in any way.

His fangs seem even bigger and sharper than before as he openly laughs at you, his gloved hand coming up to cover some of this laughter as he throws his head back. “Surprised! Did you miss me while I was gone~?” He laughs out once more, closing the distance between you two. “Now that I won the game, I should get my prize right~?” He lifted up your chin with one finger, his dazzling smile made your stomach flip. Your breath hitches in your throat as his scent was heavier and overwhelming you now.

You gulped down your fear and stared right back at him; “I think you cheated somehow. There’s no way I wouldn’t notice you coming in here!” You cross your arms and huff, your mind is reeling trying to make sense of what just happened, desperately trying to ignore the lingering voice in the back of your mind saying, “Maybe he’s not human..” Sabo's face drops at your reaction, his fingers grasp on to your throat now, squeezing on it enough to restrict your airway.

A low growl escapes his throat as a choked gasp leaves yours. “Little snack… I think the games are over now, you shouldn’t test my patience like that.” He leans in over your shoulder, loosening his grip on your throat so you could speak. “Sa-Sabo?” You squeaked out, only for Sabo to shush you, exhaling his cold breath over your pulse point. “I think you deserve a punishment for not following thru on your word.” You didn’t have the chance to question what he meant as he promptly sank his fangs into your neck.

Blood gushing out in rapid successions, all quickly lapped away by Sabo, his freezing tongue sort of soothes the searing pain that you felt as your blood was being sucked away. Sabo groaned loudly, the timbre of it sending shockwaves down your core, your taste was the sweetest syrup that ever graced his tongue. Your hands dug into his biceps as he kept on draining you, small stifle gasps of pleas fell from your lips but Sabo was too gone to hear them. Your taste was divine and he wanted… no he needed more, only when he heard a soft whimper of his name did he finally let go.

Retracting his fangs, licking at the small puncture he left, pressing his bloodied lips on your cheek as he smiles cheekily at you. “Ah… maybe that punishment was a bit too much.” He chuckles out, rubbing the back of his head, his other arm coming down to swoop around your waist. “Let me make it up to you, my little snack.” You were still recovering from the sudden blood loss when Sabo lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his own waist as he started to walk to the window. His arm on your back pushing you close to his chest.

When he stepped one foot on the windowsill, the cold night air hitting your face, only then did you start to scream and thrash around in his arms. “Sabo! I’m sorry for not telling you my name! But that doesn't mean you can just drop me off the second floor like this!” Your arms were nearly choking him out from how hard you were squeezing him. He still laughed at you though, your struggling did little to hinder him, his second foot coming up on the windowsill now.

You closed your eyes shut and waited for your impending doom and fall, waiting and waiting… and nothing. No fall, no crushing of bones, no cartoonish splat sound, just the silent night air blowing softly on your skin. You peek your eyes open to find Sabo happily smiling at you, looking down you see the party goers mingling about. No idea that two people were flying up above them. “Liking the view?” Sabo muses out, winking at you.

If you weren't terrified of him dropping you, you would smack him upside the head for that comment. “How are we even up here? Oh my god, I didn’t drink that much did I? Maybe my drink was spiked? Yeah, that’s it, my drink was spiked and I've probably just passed out somewhere and this is all a dream!” You mumble, as Sabo hums and nod along with your reasoning. “Would you count this as a nightmare then~?” One of his hands goes down to slip under your dress, caressing your inner thigh. Finding and thumbing at the wet spot on your panties.

“Already wet for me? I knew you were the one for me, my little snack~” He goes to lick at your neck wound, lapping at some of the blood that was drying up around it. Your body pushes closer to Sabo, your legs tighten around his waist, his fingers pushing your panties to the side and slipping one inside of you. You whimpered at the sudden intrusion, the contrast between the cold chilly air and your body heating up from Sabo’s actions was almost enough to send you over the edge from just his fingers fucking you.

The texture of his leather gloves inside you was something new and foreign, his lengthy fingers reaching into places that yours could never. Curling up in a tight bowling ball grip as soon as he finds that one spot that made you arch your back and chest into his. All your fear of being high in the air and the sheer absurdity of the situation being washed away by the amount of pleasure you were feeling right now.

“Sabooooo..nghhhh…oh fu-fuck..”

Just as you were reaching that peak, Sabo pulled his fingers out, his gloved soaked and glossy with your arousal. You tug on his fluffy ruffled collar with a pout and a whine at the loss of your high and his fingers. “Now~ Now~, Don’t pout, I’m still a little mad at your actions earlier so take this as a lighter punishment, my dear~” He pokes at your lips with one of his fingers, you still pout but open for him nevertheless. The bitter earthy taste of leather with your own slick made you gag a bit, Sabo cooed at that, withdrawing his finger and putting it in his own mouth.

“Mmm~ I think your blood still tastes sweeter but I don’t mind this taste either.” With a careful hand holding your ass up, he unbuckled his pants and zipper, pulling it down just enough with his boxer to spring out his leaking cock. Tapping it against your inner thigh and smearing some precum on the inside of your dress. Tilting his head a bit down to capture your lips in a silky kiss, just barely brushing over your lips, smooth and almost comforting in a sense. A kiss that would be shared between new lovers just starting a relationship.

Sabo’s eyes flashes red as he looks down at you, rubbing his nose with yours so cutely that you almost forgot that he was still slapping his cock on your thigh, rubbing the head against his fold in a silent request for entrance. “Well, my dear? Are you going to turn this dream into a wet one? Or should I just let you go now?” You huff out, deciding to give in, whether due to horniess or just because you were too tired to figure out what was going on. “Are you going to drop me from this height if I say no?” You said jokingly, but Sabo could smell the tinge of fear in your voice.

He swiftly kisses you once more, lingering for a bit longer. “Never! I am nothing but a gentleman!” You pull on his cheek, “Gentleman my ass..” You muttered, still grinding your hips forward, pushing his tip in you just a bit. “Does that mean you’re going to fuck me like a Gentleman too?” Sabo hisses out, feeling your searing warmth on his weirdly cold cock. “Only if you want me to, my dear snack.” He grunts, slowly pushing his length all the way in. “Stop calling m-me a snack and I might let you..” Your breath hitches, as your body tries to adjust to Sabo’s girth and length.

He snaps his hip up, fully pushing all the way inside. Making you choke and gasp like a fish out of water. “Well~ If someone wasn’t a sore loser and told me their name when I won their little game, I wouldn't have to call you that then.” He was struggling not to stutter as your warmth and your tight pussy was making him go wild. Buried still inside you, his cock was twitching to life from all much your pussy was clenching down on him. “Y/N… please say m-my name at least..when you fuck me..” You blubbered out, eventually adjusting to his size and the position you were in. “Y/N… what a sweet name…” Sabo sighs against your lips, fully kissing you this time, slipping his tongue in and exploring your mouth.

His hands on your ass, making you bounce up and down on his cock, the moonlight in the sky illuminating over both of you. The sounds of squelching and smacking lost in the autumn’s winds and the droning of the party still going on underneath you. It was a bizarre feeling, Sabo’s frigid tongue and cock, being warmed up by your own body. Not to mention, that you were being fucked in the sky as well, above a sea of people who if look up would see you being railed by this supposedly hot blonde vampire guy.

Who was extremely good at fucking you also, so you didn’t really care that much at the moment. Not well his cock was ramming straight into that sweet spot everytime. Making you see double stars along with the one already in the sky. “Nghhh-fwuaaa-Sa-Sabo!” You were basically being used as a fucktoy at this point, leaving Sabo to just keep bouncing up and down. Your thighs shaking and useless, the only thing you can do with moan and whimper as he fucks you.

“Good…So fucking good..y/n.. My darling--hngg-fu-fuck..”

He stops for a moment, halting his thrusting as he was fully inside you. A hand slipping around to your stomach, pressing on the bulge he made. “You feel this? You feel me inside you, hmm~?” You whined as he pressed down on it, not being able to squirm away from the feeling. “Sabooooo..” You cry out, snaking your hand into his hair and grabbing hold. He giggles a bit, enjoying your gentle cries and how your meager attempt to grind your hips down on him, he brushes a thumb once more over the bulge, enjoying the sight and imprinting it in his mind.

“Hope you’re ready for this~” He muses out, already pulling his cock out only to slam it back in with a harsh snarl ripping from his throat. Wet smacks echoed within the wind, you tug on tighter to his blonde locks as you feel the coil in your stomach soon snapping. “Hahh-Ahh! Fu-Fuck! Sabo! Sabo! I-I’m gonna-!” He grunts, biting down on the other side of your neck, marking that spot too, sucking in the sweet honeyed crimson liquid flowing out. “Cum for me, hahhhh, cream on my cock, sweet one.”

You didn’t know if he was using his powers on you again since you instantly came, your thighs shaking and twitching, as you let out a sweet wail. Sabo followed shortly after, releasing his white seed inside of you. In the hazy mist of pleasure, you quietly wonder if you could even get pregnant from a vampire. Flopping your head down on his shoulder with a sigh, your body relaxing itself from all the tension. Sabo pops his fangs away from your neck, double checking to make sure you weren’t going to bleed to death first before he pulls out, patting your panties down too as to keep all his cream inside of you. You shiver and try to grab at his wrist to stop him, but he just pats your cheek in return. “We wouldn't want the people down below to be hit with that, and be caught up here, wouldn't we?” he cooed at you.

You whined again, having no strength to fight back, ultimately agreeing with him. Nestling your head on the crook on his neck, your limbs giving out on you, relying on Sabo to keep on carrying you at this point. “Good girl~ Now let’s get you home, yeah? To a better mansion…” And with that being the last thing you hear, slowly drifting off to sleep as you get carried away in the dead of night.

#thank you for the request!!!!#₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎ softy writes #sabo x reader #one piece smut #one piece x reader

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rosaline-black · 1 year

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well! in the spirit of being hungover, how about a fluffy hotch and reader where they're nursing their respective hangovers together after a night out with the team? i could see a debate occurring on whether or not pickle juice is an effective hangover cure.

Warnings: mentions of drinking!! Bau!reader since it’s my fave. Mentions of hangovers so maybe don’t read this if you are, I wrote this hungover and trust me it didn’t help. Also I reference rage against the machine since they’re my go to karaoke band. What can I say I love chaos.

The pounding in his head was almost as distracting as the foot digging into his… well somewhere he would rather it not be digging. Last night was impromptu to say the least. He’d been getting into more impromptu situations since he met you, and usually he loved it. Hotch had been more spontaneous over the last few years then he had been his whole life. But sometimes spontaneity feels great in the moment, but not the day after.

This was a prime example.

“Honey… your foot…”

Hotch attempted to reason but if there was one thing he didn’t want to do it was piss you off. Rossi had once made a joke about your messy hair the morning after a pretty wild night out with the team. You didn’t speak to Dave for two weeks after that. It took flowers and a $50 bottle of wine to win you back over and honestly, Hotch didn’t like the idea of not hearing your voice for two weeks (and forking out $50).

“What…”

Your head was still very much smooshed into the pillow so your speech had been rendered into more of a groan then anything considered English. Aaron loved when you were like this. Pouty and a little bit scary.

“Your foot it’s… you’re kind of kicking me…”

At any other moment you’d giggle at how unsure the usually authoritative guy beside you sounded, but the ache in almost every part of your body was overshadowing any joy you may of felt. Moving your foot away from Aaron’s uh crotch area… you turned to open your eyes and face him.

To your surprise he looked just as bad as you felt. Lipstick marks all over his cheeks, dark under eye circles and you could still smell the aroma of lingering tequila which instantaneously made your stomach flip. And not in the head over heels way you usually felt when looking at your partner. It was more like ‘if I smell u any longer I’m gonna throw up the entire bar I drank last night’.

“Please brush your teeth…”

Aarons eyes visibly widened at your blunt frankly kind of rude statement. But who was he to tell you no. And well, you were probably on to something since the inside of his mouth tasted like hand sanitiser.

“Good morning to you too dear…”

Once standing, the full effects of his hangover kicked in. The trademark nausea and dizziness washed over him like a tsunami. Ignoring the overwhelming inclination to empty the contents of his stomach, Aaron successfully brushed his teeth and clambered back into his bed, grabbing a hold of you like you were his life raft.

For about fifteen minutes the pair of you laid in each others arms, cringing at the moments that led to your current predicament. Hotch remembered singing god only knows by the beach boys to you and unfortunately he also remembered Emily’s phone filming the entire thing.

“Did I sing rage against the machine at karaoke last night?”

Hotch snorts at the memory of you screaming ‘fuck you I won’t do what you tell me’ to the tune of killing in the name. Instead of telling you that yes in fact that did happen, he simply kisses your forehead.

Your phone screen catches Hotch’s attention next. You’re typing away furiously, like whatever you were searching for was of utmost importance. In fact Hotch had seen you put less effort into catching serial killers, which is saying a lot since he’s convinced nobody throws themselves into their job like you do.

“Honey you’ll smash your screen if you tap it that hard…”

“Do you think pickle juice will fix this?”

Now Hotch has two options. He can laugh and hope you’re kidding… which seems less and less viable the more he senses the seriousness of your statement. He lands on a neutral statement.

“…fix what?”

Your eyes roll and you tap at your head and then gesture to your face. He’s sure you’re trying to say you look bad but honestly, Hotch can’t imagine a lifetime where you don’t look perfect.

“This pounding in my head… this ache that’s making me want to lay down and die…” You shove your phone in his face and hotch attempts to not flinch at the brightness of whatever click bait wellness page you’ve stumbled across “… it said pickle juice cures hangovers… something about the acidity…”

Aaron’s arm circles around your waist and pulls you to lay on top of his chest, carefully taking your phone in the process.

“Here’s a hangover cure idea… you order some fast food… I’ll go fetch us some litre bottles of water and we’ll spend the day in bed… deal?”

Hotch hopes you give up on the pickle juice idea. He’s pretty sure there’s none downstairs and the thought of going to any kind of grocery store feeling the way he does sounds similar to walking the gates of hell. He hears your answer in the restful sigh you exhale.

“Deal…”

#aaron hotchner #Aaron hotchner x reader #Aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotch x reader #hotch x reader #criminal minds #derek Morgan #hotch x you

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stillfrownyclownlol · 5 months

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ἐρυθρός

In the morning, it's red.

Spots of crimson in the darkness behind his eyes, as he digs the heels of his palms into the hollowed-out cavities underneath his brows. He knows his eyes are there, it just doesn't feel like it.

get up

Plain red as he stares into the mirror, blinking slowly, letting himself get used to his contacts. Letting himself get used to being him. His knuckles are white around the sink, and his arm is still sore from the night before.

go downstairs

Blood red on the table. A pain to clean, but not a big deal. Nobody's home, after all, not even himself.

In the day, it's red.

Gleaming, firetruck red of glossy lockers, dented from roughhousing, covered in stickers, scribbled on with black marker. Worn and weathered from hate, fondness, indifference, love.

time for school

It's the sickly-sweet red of cold ketchup covering soggy fries, and he eats and eats and it all tastes like dust in his mouth. His friends are talking, saying things, but none of it quite reaches his ears.

which class is next? i can't remember

It's the burgundy of her hoodie. His hoodie? He didn't know at what point he'd been wearing it, when they'd started sharing it, when it slowly started staying over at her house more and more often. It's fine. She can keep it.

In the evening, it's red.

Pop-art red, that bright red of soda cans and plastic packaging, specially chosen, that sparks hunger or desire or whatever emotion you feel when you want to buy something equivalent to battery acid.

eat something, you'll need the energy

It's wine-red, or maroon, or purple-red, or whatever fucking color wine is. He knows he's been banned from the liquor cabinet, but his parents don't know he's figured out how to pick locks and he intends to keep it that way. He rolls the bottle between his hands, semi-translucent, liquid sloshing heavily, and he debates chugging the whole thing, just to feel something. Or maybe smash it, gut himself with the shattered end. But the momentum is gone, and it feels like too much effort.

just go to bed

It's neon red, the numbers on his alarm clock burning themselves into his eyes, even when he closes them he can see the seconds ticking down, like sand slipping through his fingers. He's out of time, you see, he has none at all.

At night, it's red.

It's the sky, reflecting the same color in his eyes back like a mirror, unmoving and unchanging. Or is he the one that isn't moving?

please

It's her hair, her head buried into his chest, breaths soft and shallow, and he touches a playful curl to his lips.

please, Aiden

It's her cheeks, and he can't tell if it's blush or blood, and when he wipes a thumb over her freckles, his fingers come back warm.

please, don't do this to me

It's his blood, thick and clogging and cruel, all the words he wants to say are stuck in it, fighting and straining helplessly, like an insect trapped in honey.

it's not fair, you can't- you can't do this-

It's her lips, and his blood stains her teeth, and the kiss is bitter. On his tongue, he tastes love.

please, please, I love you, I love you

He is dying, but his spirit feels as great and as powerful as a king.

me too

#school bus graveyard #sbg #school bus graveyard webtoon #sbg (webtoon)#aiden clark #ashlyn banner #aidlyn #aiden x ashlyn #i also want to post sad things!!!#i actually really hate this lol

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quijabored · 4 months

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OKAY SO I JUST FINISHED WATCHING LIKE THE ENTIRETY OF S3 FOR BSD SO UH SPOILERS FOR A LOT OF IT BUT ESPECIALLY THE ENDING CUZ HOOOLYYY SHIIITTTTT

I JUST

I CANT PUT MY THOUGHTS DOWN INTO COHERANT SENTANCES SO LIVE LAUGH BULLETPOINTS ((o(^∇^)o))

OKAY SO AKUTAGAWA AND ATSUSHI???

THEYRE GONNA WORK TOGETHER ARENT THEY I JUST KNOW DAMN WELL DAZAIS GONNA LIKE MAKE IT SO THEYRE COINCIDENTALLY PAIRED UP TO BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF A GUY

ALSO THE PROMISE ATSUSHI HAD AKUTAGAWA MAKE??? FYM AKUTAGAWA CANT KILL PEOPLE HES IN THE *PORT MAFIA.*

Just realizing I don't know how to do the whole colored text or different font thingy BUT ANYWAYS

STILL I LOVE ATSUSHI FOR THAT AND SINCE IT WAS MADE WITH A GOAL IN MIND, I REALLY HOPE I GET TO SEE AKUTAGAWA DEVELOPMENT

AAAAHHHH HES SO SILLY I LOVE AKUTAGAWA HES MY SON

SPEAKING OF SONS

IVAN??? HES SO ME LIKE HE IS SO ME????

ASAGIRI WAS SPYING ON ME WHEN MAKING IVAN FR

Funny thing when I first started getting into the fandom bit for bsd and I saw Fyodor being simped on I was like "eeehh I mean I guess hes cool but I dont really get it. Like sure hes an interesting character but..." AND THEN I SLOWLY STARTED BECOMING A FYODOR SIMP AND I JUST SKDHKSJD I HATE THAT MAN I HATE THAT MAN HES SUCH AN ASSHOLE

please I love him so much hes such a bitch I hate him I love him so much

"If Fyodor told me to cut my skin off I would" FUCKING SAME

ALSO AAAAAA THE ENTIRE TIME LIKE I WAS JUST STIMMING LIKE IM TELLING YOU IT WAS AJSHSKDJSJ

I HAVENT HYPERFIXATED ON A SERIES LIKE THIS SINCE THE PROMISED NEVERLAND (Specifically the manga. Miss you Yuugo)

AAAAAA ALSO THE FACT THAT CHUUYAS JUST STUCK IN POES STORY??

AND POE BEING LIKE "But if Ranpo were to die what would be my reason for living..." LIKE HELLO??? I LOVE MY OTHER SON (Poe)

AND AND AND FYODOR???? AHHHHHH HES SUCH A BITCH I LOVE HIM

THIS MOTHERFUCKER WAS REALLY COMMUNICATING QITH MUSIC??? ALSO THE SURPRISED AND SHOCKED LOOK AT THE END WHEN DAZAI FOUND HIM??

I KNOW WE SEE MORE OF HIM LATE BUT FUCK

ALSO FYODORS ABILITY?? From what I saw it seems that it's just kill by touch but if Dazais like "welp, idk" then I'm guessing it's a bit more complicated than that AND I AM SO EXCITED TO SEE WHAT HAPPENS AAAA

Also Mori and Fukuzawa did the sskk punchy thingy they did in the end of S2!! I'm not sure if people ship them (I refuse to take in any content about Mori) but if people do then win for them :D

Also Im extremely excited to see Nikolai cuz hes me minus the Ukrainian terrorist bit BUT AAAA I HOPE I GET TO SEE HIM SOON

JUST SEARCHED IT UP ITS S4 EP 5 AND AAAAAA

I can't watch BSD until tommorow now cuz I wanna have a minute to process everything BUT AAAA I CANT WAIT TO WATCH S4

Fyodor made me feel so many ways I love him

AAAAAAA OKAY SO MY FAVORITE BOY (Akutagawa) IS ALSO SUPER SILLY THOUGHOUT THIS WHOLE THING LIKE

THE SCENE WHERE ITS LIKE "Are you sure youre the real Akutagawa?"

"Yeah."

"...And youre not gonna try and kill me?"

"Yeah."

"What did you have for breakfast?"

"Yeah."

LIKE I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

Live laugh love Dazai but FUCK MAN AKUTAGAWAS TRAUMATIZED

Like don't get me wrong I love Aku how he is and I'm gonna love him more when I learn more about his character, but god damn it hurts to watch him seem so reliant on Dazais praise and Dazais approval like akdjkajsdj Ive been there my boy :(

ALSO I FEEL SO BAD FOR KUNIKIDA LIKE HE HAD TO GO THROUGH SO MUCH THIS SEASON

I PROBABLY HAVE OTHER THINGS TO SAY BUT AHDKSJDKWBD I LOVE BSD AND I CANT REMEMBER WHAT ELSE I WANTED TO YAP ABOUT BUT AAAAHHH ASAGIRI WHEN I CATCH YOU ASAGIRI- ASAGIRI WHEN I CATCH YOU-

Twas talking about this scene earlier btw :3

AH ALSO WHEN FYODOR GOT SMASHED WITH A WINE BOTTLE??? HELLO??? I LOVE HIM BUT I STARTED LAUGJING AT THE SCENE

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futfemfantasies · 2 years

Text

TV \\ leah williamson x León!reader

Request: “...can you do a leah w x reader imagine inspired by tv by billie eilish?”

I am uneducated on Billie’s songs so I hope I do it justice anon 😬 and i’m jumbling the lyrics up a little, sorry 😬 I hope you enjoy!

Song lyrics are bold with italics.

Mapi is your older sister! :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I don't wanna talk right now I just wanna watch TV I put on Survivor just to watch somebody suffer

“No Leah, I don’t want to talk to you right now” You say as you walk into your locker room at the Barca training grounds.

“Please Y/N, let me explain” Leah pleads with you.

“Leah there’s nothing for you to explain. You were caught kissing her on multiple occasions. The photos explain themselves”

“Baby please, let me explain” You roll your eyes at the lame apology.

“If you loved me, you wouldn’t have kissed her. We’re over Leah. I can’t believe I was going to propose when I saw you next. Goodbye”

Before Leah got the chance to respond, you ended the call. You threw your phone harshly against the ground. Luckily no one else was there. You put your bag away and took your boots outside to get some extra practice in. Ball after ball went in either the top left or right corner and your teammates watched on the sidelines. After the 10th ball went in, you felt a hand on your shoulder and you turn around to see your older sister Mapi.

“Are you okay?” She asks.

“I’m fine” You grumble back to Mapi.

“Hey Y/N! Why is Leah calling me asking to speak to you? Also is this yours?” Lucy asks confused as she walks over to you holding a smashed up phone.

“Ask her why” You say as you take your phone before walking to get some water.

Your teammates are now officially worried. You aren’t your usual fun, bubbly self during practice. Instead you’re taking everything so serious and haven’t even cracked a smile once. When training finishes, you’re the first one in the locker room and the first out. You get in your car and text the team group chat saying you feel sick so you might not be there for a few days. After getting into your apartment, you grab a bottle of wine and head up to your room where you turn your phone off and watch Survivor. It might be comforting to watch someone else go through pain when I am, you think.

Maybe I should get some sleep What's the point of anything?

After nearly a whole bottle of wine and 5 episodes of survivor, you decide to call it a night. You turn on your phone again and you see mainly missed calls from Leah, Mapi, Alexia and Ingrid. You reply a ‘im fine, stop worrying’ to Mapi before turning it off again and going to sleep until whenever. For at least an hour, you were rolling around so much that you built up a sweat. You turn on your phone and see it’s just after 4am. Using the phone flashlight, you walk downstairs and get a glass of water. You read Mapi’s reply first.

Maps 👯‍♀️: i’m never going to stop worrying, you know that. To Maps 👯‍♀️: maybe you should. i’m not a little kid anymore

You put your glass in the sink and went back upstairs. As you went to charge your phone, you see it. You reach to grab the velvet box and open it to see what would have been Leah’s engagement ring. You continue to stare at the custom made diamond and start to think what’s the point of anything?. After looking at the very expensive diamond You jumped awake several hours later to bangs on the door.

“Get up right now Y/N/N” You hear the lovely voice of your sister ring through the door.

“Go away Mapi”

“Not until you talk to me” Mapi pushes.

“You’re going to be here a while”

“Y/N Y/M/N León Cebrián open the fucking door right now!” You instantly got up from the bed and stared down Mapi and Alexia.

You got back into bed and Mapi got on one side while Alexia got on the other. You knew you had to open up eventually but you were scared to. You’ve never been the one to share your feelings, that’s when the notes app on your phone. it took you approximately a minute before you started to breakdown and you fell into your sisters arms.

After crying for a while, you compose yourself, somewhat and take the glass of water Alexia was offering you.

“What happened y/n/n?” Alexia asks softly.

“Leah she um, she cheated on me with Jordan”

“Wait her ex-girlfriend Jordan? I’m going to kill her!” Mapi stands and goes on a rant for a minute before sitting at the end of the bed again.

“How are you feeling?” Mapi asks putting her hand on yours.

“I was going to propose Map. Two more weeks and I would’ve proposed. I think I’m problem”

Mapi and Alexia spent the next few hours talking about some strategies to help this, since both girls have been cheated on before. You didn’t have any negative thoughts when the girls were there which was a change from your negativity the past few weeks.

Mapi decided that a movie day would be beneficial and you all shuffle downstairs to the living room. You get blankets out of the closet and Alexia makes popcorn in the microwave. Mapi quickly puts on your favourite movie and half way through the movie, you hear a loud knock at the door. You get up to go answer and when you do, you are lost for words.

“Hi Y/N”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

y/n = your name

y/n/n = your nickname

y/m/n = your middle name

Send in your suggestions, I’m open to anything within reason :)

#womens soccer #leah williamson x reader #woso imagine #woso soccer #espwnt x reader

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aliasrocket · 1 year

Note

If you're still accepting requests, could I request Rocket crushing on someone? How it would go from him not liking the person, to denial, and then finally to realisation/acceptance ❤️

Since this request wasn’t too specific, I’m gonna assume you wanted me to list down some hcs I have about Rocket having a lil crush. If I was wrong, please lmk! So sorry in advance hehe.

Rocket crushing on someone <3 (gender neutral!)

(omg this ended up being a whole imagine/mini fanfic wtf)

gif source <3 / here’s my masterlist!!

» the beginning.

This was not supposed to go this way.

He was just supposed to have a conversation with someone at a bar for the sake of not looking half as miserable as he really is, get drunk, leave, and deal with whatever hell spawn of a hangover he’d get in the morning.

There was just something about them that was so …

Hard to let go.

“Welp, I better get goin’. Can’t keep my crew waiting.”

They smiled, setting their wine glass down. “Oh, do you really have to go?”

Oh, fuck.

If their voice, their smile and that blinding glint in their eye was something he could catch, he would have had it in a glass bottle before you could even realize he’d caught it.

Yeah because their voice was nice. Nothing else to it.

Nothing, nothing, nothing.

He was still chanting that as he stumbled out of the bar wishing he could smash the bottle in his hand to pieces.

Whether it had echoed in his head or fallen out of his lips as indecipherable slurring, he couldn’t tell the difference with all the liquor he’s had to down just to get their voice the slightest bit softer in his head.

» denial.

Of course Rocket would have never admitted it if someone else didn’t point it out for him.

So he tries his best to hide it from the guardians. Absolutely looks the other way when his crush comes around and he’s walking around with his family.

He would be pretty angry and bummed out about it, too.

The simple fact is that Rocket has lost people before. He cannot afford to go through even a fraction of that pain again because he’s had enough.

You can’t lose what you don’t have.

They don’t even know my name, so there was nothing there, he thought.

Did he tell them his name?

Doesn’t matter. They’re someone he met at the bar, that’s their name, Rocket decided. ‘Someone I met at the bar.’

But it only makes him recall their name even more.

He mulled over the conversation and began analyzing each word—what could they have even said that was all that charming?

Maybe if he got to the root of the problem, he could find the anomaly and rip it the fuck out.

No, but of course that’s not how shit worked. They sort of just … linger. Make you imagine the things that person likes.

Okay, so Rocket decided to make a new set of blasters. He was kinda outgrowing his most used ones anyway.

And, it’s not a crush but a certain point in time where both parties were at their (somewhat) best. They were probably a difficult person to deal with. Maybe a slut? Not that there was anything wrong with that, because Rocket wasn’t any different just—

THIS FALLS UNDER THE CATEGORY OF ‘THINKING ABOUT THEM’!

Stopping now.

He walks around to find stores with parts he needs, and he runs into them.

Them.

Them with their stupid hair and their stupid clothes and their stupid taste in fashion (stupid, stupid, stupid, definitely stupid, nothing more.)

(He acts like a little child experiencing his first crush. It wasn’t his decision. He’s not built for this.)

They look to Rocket.

Their eyes widen, as does their pretty—pretty shit-eating smile.

“Oh, Rocket! Hey!”

He froze.

No, nevermind, freezing entails being completely stoned but he was painfully aware of his heaving chest and his hanging jaw and his greedy lungs.

He fled.

On all fours, he ran faster than he ever knew he could.

» realization/acceptance.

… yeah. There was nothing else to say, or do, or feel.

There was no more escaping it.

Thank god he doesn’t have their number.

“Rocket?”

“Hm?”

“Who’s ‘someone I met at a bar’?”

The team were on a commission in a conveniently far planet, much to Rocket’s delight.

So much for not having their number.

Quill was on the access panels.

“Don’t you know how to fuckin’ read?” Rocket snapped. “It’s right there on the goddamn screen.”

“Yeah but how is it that a screen is telling me more about this encounter than you ever did?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Rocket.”

“What?”

Quill looked at him.

He was doing that thing where his shoulders are slumped and he presses his lips together.

“Spit it out already!”

“It’s okay to be into someone,” Quill said.

Rocket scoffed audibly.

“I knew that.”

“Rocket.”

“What?”

“It’s okay to be into someone,” Quill repeated a lot slower this time.

“I know!” Rocker shrieked, like his voice was cracking under his dissolving defense. “I’m not a damn child.”

“And you’re not a monster, either,” Quill corrected.

And he definitely read Rocket’s mind.

That was just about as much as he could stomach.

So there was no more talking for the rest of the trip.

So yes, Rocket would have never admitted it if someone else didn’t point it out for him.

#gotg #gotg fanfiction #gotg fic #guardians of the galaxy #rocket raccoon #gotg vol 3 #gotg vol. 3 #peter quill #rocket gotg #rocket raccoon imagine #rocket raccoon fanfic #anon ask #ask request #.alias.inbox.request.#.alias.hcs.

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the-al-chemist · 6 months

Text

Shoreside Conversations

A/N: @drinkyoursoupbitch’s idea to restart Worldbuiding Wednesday was one of her best yet (and she has many great ideas). It’s brought a little fun back into writing, and this little short story has been incredibly fun to work on. Based on this prompt from the First Lady of Soup herself:

Warnings: mild innuendo, severely bad lying.

The spring evening was light but cool, with the sky turning a rosy shade of pink and the crescent moon starting to rise before the sun had finished setting. Outside, a gentle breeze was blowing, but it couldn’t reach the interior of the seaside restaurant where, at a table by the window, three witches were chatting over a bottle of fizzy wine.

The wizarding community of Great Britain had been at peace for almost a year, but Artemis’ friend Penny had only recently returned to England, having escaped to France with her young family when the war first broke out. Penny had always been a social butterfly, and so neither Artemis nor Chiara had been surprised when she had invited them both for dinner at the Italian restaurant that had opened near her family’s beach house in Cornwall less than a week after she had come home.

”It’s just wonderful to see you two again,” Penny told the pair of them, almost breathless over the top of her wine glass. “I’ve really missed you both.”

“We’ve missed you, too.”

“So,” continued Penny. She had that all-too-familiar expression on her face, the one she always had whenever she was hunting for gossip. “What’s new with you?”

Artemis had never known Chiara to be the first in a group to speak up, so she volunteered up a piece of information about her life. “I’ve started a new job.”

“Another one?” Penny’s eyebrows shot up, but she quickly regained her composure. “I mean, that’s good. What are you doing now?”

“I’m a case investigator for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.”

“And? Are you enjoying it?”

“Yeah.” Artemis nodded. “I am, actually.”

She was half-expecting Penny to ask her more questions — more personal questions, at that — but Penny had decided it was Chiara’s turn.

“What about you, Chiara? How is work? How are things with Jae?”

“Work is… busy,” said Chiara, her voice as soft and lilting as Artemis had always known it to be. “But, St Mungo’s have welcomed me back without kicking up a fuss about the whole” — she lowered her voice to the point that she almost mouthed the words — “werewolf issue.” Her lips pursed slightly before she spoke normally again. “And things with Jae are good. Never better, really. Actually, he asked me to marry him last weekend.”

Across the table, Artemis could see that Penny was almost vibrating with excitement.

“Oh, my goodness,” she said. “Did you say yes?”

Chiara’s mouth curved into a shy smile. “I did.”

Artemis braced herself for Penny’s squeal just in time. A couple at the neighbouring table looked over, clearly concerned, and Artemis shrugged apologetically at them before congratulating Chiara. Penny, apparently too excited to sit still, rose from her chair and half-leapt around the perimeter of their own table to hug their friend. In her excitement, she knocked the handbag she had hung on the back of her chair, causing a tiny glass bottle to fall out of it.

Before anyone had a chance to catch the bottle, it plummeted to the ground and broke with a tiny, high-pitched smash. Immediately, the air was filled with a smell that was overpowering, intoxicating, and overwhelmingly pleasant. Artemis breathed in the scent, feeling both more relaxed and invigorated as she did so. Across the table, Penny’s blue eyes widened into circles and the colour rose in her cheeks.

“Oh, no. Oh, dear.”

“Don’t worry, Pen,” Artemis said. “If anything, the place smells much better now.”

It really did. Whatever had spilled out onto the floor smelt good, at once sweet and salty, smokey and earthy, and…

“Penny.” Chiara’s voice cut into Artemis’ thoughts. She had one palm placed to her nose, and above her hand her usually pale cheeks were flushed and her pupils fractionally dilated. “Is that what I think it is?”

Artemis had no clue what Chiara thought the little bottle had contained, but her suspicions were clearly correct, because Penny nodded her head sheepishly. Chiara sighed, though whether it was out of satisfaction or exasperation, Artemis couldn’t tell.

“Merlin, I haven’t smelt that since sixth year Potions class,” muttered Chiara.

Not having taken Potions classes past her fifth year, Artemis was still none the wiser. “What? What is it?”

“It’s Amortentia.”

“Amortentia?”

Penny shushed Artemis whilst looking over both shoulders.

“It really isn’t what it looks like,” she whispered. Artemis and Chiara exchanged glances.

“I think it matters more what it smells like, to be honest,” said Artemis. “What are you doing carrying a vial of Amortentia around in your handbag?”

“Well, technically it isn’t actually Amortentia. It’s a perfume made with Amortentia. They’re very popular in Paris, you know. I’m actually writing an article about it for the next edition of the S.O.U.P. Quarterly.”

“For the what quarterly?”

“The Society of Occupational Unctioneers and Potioneers. It’s for anyone who works in the potions industry, or in a line of work where potions are needed for use. Actually, Chiara, you may be interested in joining. We are always looking for new members, and…”

“And what about the Amortentia?”

“Oh, I’ve been asked to write a guest piece for the Society journal. It’s the first time, and I’m rather excited about it, actually,” Penny explained. “I thought the perfume would be really interesting to write about, seeing as it’s not such a common thing to see over here yet, but now that the war is over, I’m certain that it will become rather fashionable.” Her eyes had lit up. Perhaps it was because she was talking about her favourite subject, or it might have been the effect of the Amortentia on the floor. “How it works is, they put the Amortentia into the perfume, and when it’s worn it makes the wearer more… Well, you know, appealing.”

By the time Penny had finished talking, her cheeks were pinker than Artemis had ever seen them, and the couple at the next table were paying so much attention to one another that they hadn’t noticed the waiter who was trying to take their orders.

“I think it works, you know.”

The three witches looked across at the couple before silently giggling into their wine glasses.

“Maybe we should all start wearing it,” suggested Chiara. She was clearly joking, but Penny nodded in earnest.

“I have some samples I’m using for the article, you can have them when I’m finished.”

“Oh, you really don’t have to—”

“Don’t be silly, it’s no problem at all. I’ll just owl them to you. You too, Artemis.” Before Artemis could protest, Penny continued, “You’ll be glad of them once you meet someone.”

Artemis almost choked on her wine. She composed herself as best as she could before responding, “Yeah. Maybe. Thanks.”

She had assumed that her answer would be vague enough to not arouse attention, but it appeared that she had underestimated Penny Haywood.

“You’ve already met someone?”

“No,” Artemis said quickly. Too quickly.

“Oh, my goodness. Who?”

”No one.” When Penny pursed her lips in blatant disbelief, Artemis sighed. “No one that you’d know.”

“You never know, I might know them,” said Penny. She had a point, Artemis realised. Penny’s list of acquaintances was never-ending. “So, what’s his name?”

There was no way out of this, Artemis could tell. Still, she couldn’t help but scan the room looking for an exit. As her eyes wandered, they happened to land on the name badge of the waiter serving the neighbouring table.

“Mario.”

“Mario?”

”Yeah, Mario.” Artemis nodded definitely. “His name is Mario.”

Penny frowned. “I don’t think I know anyone called Mario. Is he someone you work with?”

“Yeah. Well, sort of,” Artemis corrected herself. Penny was bound to know one of her colleagues — or, if not, she would at least know someone else who did — and she wouldn’t have put it past her friend to ask others about Mario. “He’s a Magizoologist, but he doesn’t work for the Ministry. He lives abroad usually.”

That wasn’t entirely untruthful, and even Chiara seemed half-convinced. Artemis took a sip of wine in order to hide her face behind the glass.

“So, what does he look like?” asked Penny. “Tall, dark, and handsome?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Just your type, then.”

Artemis wrinkled her nose. “Is it?”

“Well, yes.” Penny laughed, but she still wasn’t finished with her interrogation. “So, how long have you been seeing him? Have you talked about the future yet? Are you worried about how it’s going to work out, what with him living abroad and you living here?”

The room suddenly felt very hot. Artemis shuffled in her seat, trying to quench her sudden need for movement. Her chest had tightened uncomfortably, but she hid the sensation by shaking her head and laughing.

“Calm down, Pen,” she said, as breezily as she could muster. “It’s not like that.”

“Not like what?”

“I dunno. I guess I just don’t think the Mario thing is… It’s not very serious. At all. You don’t need to think too much about Mario. Forget I ever said anything about Mario.”

The look on Penny’s face made it clear that she was disappointed, but Chiara smiled gently.

“As long as you’re happy, Artemis,” she said. “That’s the main thing, isn’t it, Penny?”

”Oh, yes. Yes, as long as you’re happy.”

“Thanks.” Artemis put her glass down. “Anyway, Chiara, you’re going to have a wedding…”

It was the perfect distraction. Penny sat up so straight in her seat that her buttocks almost seemed to hover above it, and turned her attention wholly to Chiara. Artemis sat back in her own chair and let the other two women talk, letting the pitter-patter of conversation wash over her. It was familiar and warming to sit and chat with her friends, as long as she didn’t allow herself to think too much about the moments when Rowan would have said something wry and clever, or Tonks something witty and outrageous, if either of them had been there to say anything at all.

By the time she and her friends left the little seaside restaurant, Artemis’ head was fuzzy with the mixture of wine, Amortentia perfume, and thoughts of those who were and always would be missing. She Apparated back to Bill’s house, nestled in the dunes of another Cornish beach, and found Charlie sitting on the sand, setting fire to a small pile of driftwood without even using his wand.

“What are you doing?”

Charlie did not even look up from the driftwood. “I’m making a fire.”

“Without me?”

“I’ve been waiting for you to get back.” Charlie shrugged. “Do you want to grab some drinks and snacks, or have you had enough at dinner?”

Artemis probably had had enough, but she couldn’t see any harm in a little more. She snuck into the house and took a half-full bottle of Firewhiskey, two mugs, and a packet of marshmallows from the kitchen before returning to the beach. Charlie had succeeded in lighting his Muggle fire, and she sat beside him, watching the flames flicker against the indigo backdrop of the sky and sea.

“How were Penny and Chiara?” asked Charlie, as Artemis poured him a glass of Firewhiskey.

“Good.”

“And the dinner?”

“Tasty.” Artemis held out the marshmallows to Charlie in way of an offering, but he declined them with a wave of his hand. She pierced a marshmallow with her wand and held it over the fire, where the flames licked at the sides of it. “It felt strange, it just being the three of us.”

“I’ll bet.” Charlie glanced at her. “You want to talk about it?”

There wasn’t much more to say about it than that, so Artemis shook her head. Charlie nodded his own, and in silence, lay down on his back. Artemis kicked off her boots and let her bare toes dig into the sand.

“Oh, guess what? Jae and Chiara are getting married.”

Artemis had expected some sort of surprise or excitement from Charlie, but he gave her neither. Instead, he only said:

“So, he finally got around to asking her then?”

“Wait, you knew he was going to ask her?”

“Yeah, he’s been planning on it for months. He’s told me about it every time I’ve seen him.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

Charlie shrugged. “It wasn’t my news to tell.”

“I guess that’s fair enough,” said Artemis. “Just so you know, if Jae mentions anything next time you see him, I have a new boyfriend called Mario.”

Slowly, Charlie lifted his head from the sand. He turned his face towards Artemis, his eyebrows knitted in confusion. “I’m sorry?”

“Penny asked me if I was seeing anyone,” Artemis explained. “And I told her I wasn’t, but she could tell I was lying—”

“Shocking.”

“— so I just told her I was going out with a guy called Mario.”

“Of course, that’s what anyone would do in that situation,” said Charlie, completely straight-faced. He propped himself up onto his elbows. “And what did you tell them about this Mario?”

“Not much, just that he is a Magizoologist and that he’s tall and good-looking.” Artemis glanced across at Charlie, who was looking at her with his eyebrows furrowed. “But it’s not anything serious.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” Charlie blinked and shook his head. “And, they believed all of this…”

“I think so? I mean, I changed the subject pretty quickly. Penny was happy to talk about Chiara’s wedding and this soup club she’s joined.”

“A soup club? As in the food?”

“No, it’s for potion people. She’s writing an article about Amortentia for their journal and spilled some on the floor of the restaurant. You wouldn’t believe how much it smelt.”

“I would,” said Charlie. “I still remember when Jae made a cauldron full of the stuff in our dormitory in fifth year.”

“He made that in your dormitory?”

Charlie nodded. “Oh, yeah. Stunk the place out for weeks.”

“I mean, at least Amortentia smells good,” Artemis reasoned.

“True, but it did make for quite a few awkward mornings, if you know what I mean…”

In a way, Artemis wished she didn’t know what Charlie meant, but she couldn’t help but laugh at the look on his face.

“What did you think it smelt like?” she asked him. “The Amortentia?”

Charlie’s eyes narrowed. “That’s a very personal question.”

“Good job that we are very personal friends.”

Artemis raised her eyebrows at Charlie, whose lips twitched and eyes looked out over the sea in the distance.

“A few different things, really,” he said. “Sort of like the garden back at home, and a bit like the air after bonfire night, though that might have been because of him setting the bottom of the cauldron on fire. And it smelt like Christmas.”

“Christmas?”

“Hmm. Like pine trees and… marzipan? It was very sweet and a bit nutty.” Charlie glanced at Artemis. “Yeah, it was nuts, alright.”

There was a look of mischief in his eyes that made Artemis roll her own. Charlie laughed softly to himself.

“And you?” he asked. “What did it smell like to you?”

Artemis frowned as she tried to remember the smell of the Amortentia, and found the scent easier to recall than she had thought it would be. It was as if the smell of the perfume had lingered in the air around her all the way back to Shell Cottage, but then, that might have been because of the salty breeze rolling in from the sea, the Firewhiskey in her glass, the leather of her boots discarded on the sand beside her, the marshmallow toasting on the end of her wand.

“I guess it sort of smelt like this.”

Charlie smiled, and Artemis popped her toasted marshmallow into her mouth before lying down on the sand beside him, face up towards the stars.

#artemis hexley #hogwarts mystery #hphm fic #penny haywood #chiara lobosca #charlie weasley #wbw #hp fanfic #🍲#amortentia

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thinktankbigmt · 2 months

Note

……. Why does it smell like science and booze in here..

IT APPEARS YOUR NOSE HAS BECOME CORRUPTED, LOBOTOMITE. HERE, LET ME SMASH IT IN TO PERMANENTLY REMOVE THE SENSORY ORGAN. NONE OF US DRINK HERE!

@@[(But… we do. You have a whole tap in your residence in Higgs Village.)]@@

I HAVE A VERY SPECIFIC SET OF INSTRUCTIONS TO FOLLOW. I MUST CONSUME ONE (1) BOTTLE OF WINE PER WEEK AS PART OF THE DATA COLLECTION EXPERIMENT. YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO JUDGE ME, 8.

*You reek of hypocrisy, Klein! I’m tired of your constant yapping! If I’m forced to listen to you for a moment longer I may explode.*

EXCELLENT. ANOTHER FOOL TO BE EXPELLED FROM THE THINK TANK. NOBODY DOUBTS MY WORD AND GETS AWAY WITH IT.

*Wait wait no! No! I was kidding!*

*AAAAAAAAAAAAAH*

AHEM. ANYWAYS. THIS IS NOT A STENCH, THIS IS THE SCIENTIFIC MUSK OF THE GREAT GLORY OF SCIENCE! AND WHATNOT.

I think it smells like booze as well.

SHUT UP.

#fallout rp #old world blues #dr 0 #dr klein #dr 8 #dr dala #he’s not coming back #also nice drawing!#i love when people do this #whole drawings for something so silly as this #warms my heart

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koco-coko · 7 months

Text

Cain & | Ikemen Vampire Fic

-> Two halves of a whole, seperated by fate.

Tags/Warnings <--> Past Relationships, Fluff and Angst, Vlad/Comte, Comte/Leonardo (not a threesome), Longing, Grief, Comte is babygirl-coded in this, Spicy Scenes (nothing graphic so viewer discreation advised), Heavy Spoilers for Vlad and Comte!!!

Word Count: 1,981

A/N <--> I wanted to post this on valentines, but then I realized maybe a tragic love story wouldn't be great for valentines... but i mean someone needs to bring down the mood right

i think they might like this: @natimiles @yanderepuck and @azulashengrottospiano (I thought you would like seeing comte be sad and moody and also vlad being silly soo) @drewadoodle

“Hello, Abel.”

Is that what Cain said the morning before he killed his brother?

God always favored Abel. No matter what Cain brought, God always favored his brother. So, enraged, Cain killed his brother Abel. And there was no turning back from that, was there?

The smell of cigarillos and book pages forever clung to the man next to him. The light snores he made were all too familiar. Comte knew the five senses of Leonardo better than he knew his own, really. They were ever-comforting in their mundanity.

As he finished buttoning up his shirt, pants still missing (mysteriously lost in the sea of the wood floor, in the tide of other discarded clothes), he turned to Leonardo and threw his arm over the man’s broad chest. (Though Comte did squint when he realized Leonardo was already asleep– it hadn’t even been five minutes! How was he meant to take this man seriously…)

Ah– he smiled. He knew that feeling, too; the steady beating of his heart, the rising and falling of his lover’s chest. It was all so normal to him. Homely, domestic, all sensation he craved for.

Though, one wouldn’t be able to tell that from the quickly-healing scratch marks on Leonardo’s back, nor the many bruises on Comte’s collarbone and waist.

As le Comte snuggled closer to the Renaissance man, a vision hit him like a stray carriage. He’d been here before, but the senses of familiarity were much different. There had been plentiful bottles of wine that night, too. There had been affection, pleasure, warmth… but there were a few sensations that were unique about that night.

The firelight traced Leonardo’s face in such a romantic way, the pureblood couldn’t help but lean up and kiss his cheek. Comte tried to exude such images from his mind. The past only brought sorrow and longing, and yet… The fireplace crackled.

The fireplace…

The fireplace crackled. “A-And– And-!” Abel hiccuped, a drunken grin on his face while he wobbled about on the floor. It had been a while since he drank so much, wine bottles as old as them littered about the floor. Vlad was barely conscious at this point, giggling like a madman at every word his companion said.

“She didn’t,” Vlad cooed, barely staying upright in his seating position. He leaned against the fireplace several times, his cheeks flush and his forehead beaded with sweat as he reached for Abel’s bottle.

“She did!” he laughed. Then, a short whine as he tried to take the bottle from Vlad’s grasp. When Vlad tugged again, Abel tumbled to the ground next to him. They both couldn’t stop laughing, far beyond the lines of sobriety.

When the cackling died to loose giggles, Abel looked back at Vlad through teary eyes. “My, it truly has been an eternity since I’d seen you,” he said, wiping his wet eyes.

When he looked back, all he saw was a pale red staring at him. The man before him was… entranced, even. Maybe it was the drinks getting to him. Maybe they really were just a bit too drunk. Maybe this was a mistake that he’d regret all his eternal life.

But the next thing Abel knew, his back was against the fur rug and his lips were smashed against Vlad’s. Liquor and Rouge blended into a terribly sweet, terribly addictive taste. A hint of strawberries in there, somewhere. “I missed you, too,” Vlad whimpered, his hands roaming across Abel’s hips. It was just a glimmer, but Abel saw some indescribable sorrow behind the vivid crimson.

Abel opened his mouth, but all words were cut off when Vlad pulled his collar down and peppered kisses across his neck. Abel giggled nervously, his fingertips gliding across Vlad’s back. “You know…” he started, “Despite my ‘prestigious’ reputation, I haven’t–”

Abel’s breath hitched as a bite was placed right on the side of his neck. His fangs didn’t penetrate, though he could tell that the way they graced his skin was intentional.

Vlad lifted himself up, caging in Abel beneath him. His face was flush with alcohol and affection, but that boyish smile seemed stolen straight from the days long gone. “Me neither,” he chuckled, “It’s been awhile since old men like us have done something new, hasn’t it? Tonight seems like a good opportunity.”

It was strange, Comte thought, how he could barely recall anything else about that beloved night. The night he discovered Vlad still lived, that those years spent longing for him weren’t for naught… That the tears he shed may not have been completely useless… It was all just a blur.

Perhaps it was the alcohol, fogging the memory of inexperienced touches and passionate kisses, tongues tying only to break apart so the other could giggle at a mishap. Belt buckles and shoes seemed so hard to take off at that time, filled with silly jokes and laughs, plenty of fiddling, everything felt so… new. Experimental, even. It was rare Abel felt particularly young but never unwelcome.

It may also have been Vlad’s touch, gentle and delicate, but so enticing. He was dedicated to him, as if he were painting a fine masterpiece. Each caress came with passion, though their experience was clear as day. Porcelain fingertips traced their way towards Abel’s face and gently covered his eyes, a soft mantra repeated and infested. A rose field appeared in his mind’s eye, a single whisper from the man on top of him. “Dragă mea…” Sharp fangs sunk into his neck with tender care, a soft caress on his side.

From there, it was a blur of pure bliss.

Comte crawled out of bed with a slight sore in his back, though he knew he would dissipate in minutes. Only once he stood up and searched the floor for his pants did he figure out that his shirt was a size too big. The cigarillo musk was just as prominent despite leaving Leonardo’s side. Ha, really, was his lover so possessive as to hand him his own shirt? Comte shook his head fondly as slid his pants back on.

Comte went about cleaning the area, folding up lost clothing articles and picking up the empty bottles of wine littered across the floor. Maybe they overdid it tonight, but sometimes it was nice to recreate their rebellious and reckless phases from bygone days.

When Comte gazed at the fireplace, memories swirled through his head. It was vivid and blurry, amorous and lonely, everything and nothing. He spent years mourning Vlad, sobbing into his mother’s arms when the news of the Draculęsti family’s death arrived. He remembered acting out constantly, he remembered the longing, the primal need to see him smile one more time.

Abel sighed dreamily, the rose field in front of him seemingly endless. Snow-tipped flowers swayed back and forth like tides on the sea. Despite the wonderful sight in front of him, all he could focus on was the golden pocket watch in his hands, caressing it like a lover. “Is it naive of me to say I’m excited?”

Vlad, laying on his lap, while he played with the split tail of his long coat, merely hummed in vague amusement. “May I ask why you wonder this?”

Golden eyes flitted between the watch and the pureblood snug on his thighs, smiling fondly at each. “It’s nothing, really. Though, often I wonder if my psyche is too human. A newly built home for us both, the expecting of children… I feel like a newlywed wife!” he laughed, his free hand running through Vlad’s silky white hair.

Vlad quickly took Abel’s hand, reverently laying pecks across his fingertips. “I think it’s beautiful. Humans, vampires… I’ve never been able to distinguish us so easily. Well, until that day…” A pause came. Vlad’s smile remained ever gently, not even a flicker in his expression. “No matter, I feel the same, though perhaps I’m too old and jaded to act as giddy,” he chuckled. “Is there anyone you’ve had an eye on, Abel?”

Abel looked out into the sea of roses. A gentle breeze made his long, golden hair sway across his face, though Vlad was quick to sit up and remove it. In this new position, lazy pecks were put against his neck and shoulders. Those everlasting roses, this everlasting love…By any other name, they would smell just as sweet.

“I’ve always had a liking to the works of Shakespeare.”

A yawn elicited Comte to return to his bed, only having a quick tug-of-war with Leonardo for his blankets back. Usually it took longer… He quickly realized that his partner’s relent was due to the arm thrown around his shoulders, forcing Comte close to Leonardo’s chest. He sighed contently as he nuzzled close to his lover.

Comte had never been a fan of the past, at least in recent years. The present was far more constructive, more real than the years he lived. He was never one for reminiscing, and yet, even with his dearest, the man he’d given his heart to, beside him… His mind betrayed all logical thought.

Was it foolish, even moronic, of Abel to sit alone in his room and cry that day? The years of longing and grief had been for naught. Vlad had returned and died again. The mournfulness seemed to infect the halls of the mansion, each wall and painting mocking him. The mansion used to be so warm, so full of expectation and hope.

Now all that lingered was the never-wilting flower, alone and abandoned. Vlad had died twice. Abel’s mourning period seemed to know no end.

Comte desperately tried to purge the memories from his mind. First with Will, his firstborn son, and then the others who followed. Leonardo had been a constant figure, someone to rely on. While a love with Vlad was youthful, Leonardo’s affections were much more mature. Ha! Mature, Leonardo? What an oxymoron, Comte thought.

Still, he couldn’t deny the truth. He was carefree with Vlad by his side, making love whenever the time was right and sharing kisses and cuddles whenever it felt right. They were teenagers in love, hanging on by the loose idea of a bright future with one another. Vlad was the eternal honeymoon.

But Leonardo… The eternal marriage. Affinity was much more subdued. Deep, longing gazes and the lighting and sharing of cigarillos had replaced the passionate and messy kissing. Amorous exchanges only for private viewings replaced the rather indecent affection Vlad would perform close to the public eye. Not to say these things were gone from their relationship, their intense tryst tonight proof of such, but even these impulsive acts were done meticulously, years of trust and deeply-rooted adoration in their every thrust and rub.

With the arrival of the other residents, the mansion had suddenly grown warm again. Perhaps his giddiness over reviving historical greats as his own was a more specific issue of his, but the fact couldn’t be denied: a void was filled. The mansion, the home he had built with Vlad, was now filled with laughter and friendship, bonds between great men (and a woman) that would most certainly last their long lifetimes. The mansion was as it was meant to be: the floors painted with life, the walls etched with memories.

The castle was cold. Quiet, empty. The walls were etched with unwanted, disgraceful memories. Abel had only visited once, and never returned. He couldn’t bear seeing his oldest companion reanimated, yet possessed by a different soul. Vlad had died twice, in Comte’s eye, yet never buried.

“Hello, Abel.”

That’s what Vlad said the morning he killed Abel.

Comte rose from his ashes, staring at the friend he once knew. “It’s been an eternity since I’ve seen you.”

He looked so lonely as he bore an ephemeral smile. “I’ve missed you, too.”

Comte sighed, unable to respond to the stranger before him.

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