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wri0thesley · 7 months

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protection - lucas (yandere oc) x reader (5.3k)

halloween has always been your favourite holiday. with your captor, though . . . perhaps not so much.

a/n: if i cannot be self-indulgent and write a fic about my cannibal murderer yandere oc for halloween when he is such a horror pastiche of a man, when can i? if you would like a primer on lucas, reading this is probably the best thing to do!

cw: yandere, cannibalism, kidnapped reader, descriptions of gore, non-explicit mentions of past dub-con/non-con.

Lucas has one of those perpetual calendars upon his mantelpiece.

You’ve never had much cause to look at it before. It’s another of those mix-and-match décor pieces that are so prevalent in the cabin; a boring block of wood and blocky white font that you suppose someone might describe as ‘minimalist’. It’s certainly not something you’d choose for yourself – and from what you’ve seen of Lucas’s own choices, his clothing, the items he gravitates towards in his little slice of home, it’s not something he’d have chosen either. Had it not, perhaps, been chosen by someone else.

You ignore the way your gorge rises when you consider that it’s one more piece of somebody who must be long dead by now. Lucas’s cabin is full of those reminders; embroidered tablecloths (your own hands are not so steady), handmade blankets (the wool used makes you itchy), clothes in the wardrobe three sizes too small and two sizes too big. A bookshelf of tattered paperbacks; crime novels and romance novels and horror novels, an eclectic mix you can’t imagine belonging to the same person.

That’s not important.

What is important is the morning after breakfast, when Lucas and you have gone out to collect eggs already and he’s held onto your waist while you carefully fried them along with the something-that-might-be-bacon that you’re growing more and more accustomed to cooking.

(It doesn’t even make you throw up any more).

He’s casual as he walks over to it; you’ve never really paid much attention to it before. It’s simply one of those rituals that he does; he likes the domesticity of a daily routine, and though you’ve always been rather more spontaneous . . . You’re hardly in a position to argue about it.

He moves the cube around and you glance vaguely towards it and you see the month and date, clear and bright as if illuminated by a shaft of sunlight.

The thirtieth of October.

You stop breathing, just for a moment. It’s been three months, then – time had lost meaning for you somewhat, after you’d realised you had no choice but to play along if you wanted to keep yourself away from the sharp end of an axe. But . . . three months. Three months of smiling nicely and forcing your mouth around the name ‘darling’ and letting his weapon-calloused hands curl about your waist, slide over bare skin. Three months of making yourself smile, of showering with a stranger in the bathroom (three months and he is still a stranger, though you suppose you know him intimately; three months, though, and you still do not know his surname), of sleeping beside him at night--

“I love Halloween.”

You don’t realise you’ve said it until it comes out of your mouth like the dry squeak of a frightened mouse.

Lucas looks up in surprise. You don’t often volunteer information readily; you answer his questions, but otherwise you’re a quiet obedient little home-maker for him, the way you think he likes you. That’s not to say you think he’d mind, but . . . you still keep some of yourself held close to your chest. You share hearth and home and body with Lucas; you think you’ve earnt the right to not have to share everything.

“S’that so?” He rumbles, after a moment. He doesn’t smile, the way he does when you tell him that you like the present he’s brought you back from town or when you let slip once that the western film he’d been watching on VHS reminded you of your childhood. “I’ve never been all too fond of it myself.”

His green gaze stays steady on you. He lets the moment stretch, waiting for your answer. You are walking a tightrope, as always; there is a right answer, you think, and a wrong answer. Which one are you supposed to pick? You’ve seen Lucas angry – that smouldering, teeth-grit explosion when he’d caught you, early on, trying to open a window.

(You’d sobbed and promised, sworn on everything you loved, that you just wanted some fresh air – that the August air was stuffy and pressing. Enough tears, and Lucas had repented, finally, drawn back his blistering anger. Calloused thumb wiping your tears away and a gruff apology, followed by; “Aww, darlin’, don’t cry like that. C’mon now.”

Followed by kissing your eyelids. Followed by the press of his body upon yours. Followed by hands on your hips, thumbs digging into your thighs to part them. Followed by him murmuring for you to cry for a different reason.

He likes the tears. It’s a good lesson to learn so early on in your life with him).

You shrug helplessly.

“I like the atmosphere?” You give him, your voice quavering at the end. “All of those kids in cute costumes, jack-o’-lanterns, cuddling up warm and cosy on the couch with a scary film on--”

His shoulders relax minutely, and he lets out a breathy chuckle.

“Yeah,” he says to you. “I s’pose those things ain’t so bad. I’m not a scary movie guy – there’re enough things to be frightened of out there in the real world, y’know?” He walks towards you, joins you on the couch. His arm wraps around your shoulder and you let yourself be drawn into his embrace, because you risk upsetting the balance again if you shy away. With a sigh of pleasure, he drops a kiss onto the top of your head. “Gets real busy up here around this time. Trespassers. I prob’ly won’t even be around mosta the night; gotta patrol the area. Think we can rustle you up a pumpkin and a coupla’ videos though, huh?”

You swallow. You know what he means by ‘patrol the area’ – you think of teenagers in local towns, daring each other to spend the night in the woods. You think about twenty-somethings with their tents and their camping and coolers full of beer, telling spooky stories about huge cannibals who live in the woods--

You think of Lucas’s weapons, the axe shining bright mounted on the wall, and the sound it had made as it had thwacked into the ground beside your head as Lucas had realised you were trembling and whimpering and sobbing and merely lost, not some ne’er-do-well out here for any other reason.

How much fuller will his freezer be, come the first of November?

He’s true to his word, as he so often is. Despite everything, he looks at you hopefully when he presents to you the things he brings back from his little foray into town; his head cocked, an echo of the earnest young man he might once have been beneath the scars and the greying.

He presents to you: one large pumpkin, three VHS tapes of movies you haven’t heard of that look like schlocky 90s B-movies, a multi-pack of sweet treats obviously intended to be poured into a bowl for trick or treaters, and a bean-filled plush of a fat black cat.

“I thought we could carve the pumpkin together,” he says, which you think is just an excuse not to leave you unsupervised with sharp implements. He trusts you to cook, now – but he still likes to be in the room, even if he’s not guiding your hand with his fingers entwined around your own over the knife.

“That would be nice,” you cautiously reply, and he smiles at you all soft and gooey-eyed. Your spine still feels like a rod has been shoved in it; being around Lucas can so often seem like a balancing act, and normally he does not come back from town in anything resembling a good mood. But giving you presents and the pleasure that had sparked in your eyes and the truth tinging your thanks have clearly set him well for the evening; he’s whistling as he rattles around in the kitchen to find the implements.

“C’mon here then, angel,” he calls, and you tuck the fat little black cat into the corner of the couch - it will be nice, you suppose, to have something to hold when you are alone later. You doubt the movies will provide much in the way of stone-cold terror, but the knowledge that Lucas is out there stalking the night and it would not take all that much for him to turn his rage on you certainly does.

It will be nice, too, to have something to hold that is yours and is not haunted by the echo of ghosts of Lucas’s past. Once, you had been uncomfortable in bed, rolling and writhing and whimpering through a nightmare – and Lucas had gently shaken you awake and placed a bear into your arms you had never seen before.

You might not have ever seen the bear before, but it had clearly once been loved; visible stitches re-attaching an ear, the velvet flocking rubbed off on its nose, the fur compacted from many nights of cuddling.

You try not to think about someone else, after you, having the little cat placed delicately in their arms.

When you enter the kitchen, you see that Lucas has spread newspaper out all over the floor, placing the pumpkin carefully in the middle with an array of carving implements and pens laid out for you. There’s a waiting candle and a box of matches on the table, waiting for the final touch.

The newspapers are all nearly twenty years old. The matches have packaging you’ve never seen before, the kind of retro artwork you’d see hipsters hang ironically on their apartment walls.

You crouch to get onto the paper he’s laid out, but Lucas clicks his tongue in annoyance at you.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he says, and he pats his knee where he’s knelt with them spread apart. “Come sit between my legs and let’s do it together.”

It takes you a moment to gather the courage to do it – touching him voluntarily is always harder than when he makes the first move – but you see that shimmer of frustration in the air, the imperceptible twitch of his jaw, and you clumsily climb over to situate yourself between them. You feel him let out a satisfied exhale as one of his arms wraps around your waist possessively.

“There,” he murmurs, directly into your ear. “Ain’t that better? More . . . cosy?”

You can feel every hair on the back of your neck, the thrum of your heartbeat, as Lucas’s hand fastens over yours and works at removing the top of the pumpkin. His chest is solid behind you, a barrel of muscle and scar – and when he shifts, and his crotch in his fatigues snugly presses against the curve of your spine, it takes all of your grace not to whimper at the feel of him hot and wanting.

Domesticity always seems to stoke something in him – and you suppose this would, under other circumstances, be a perfectly lovely Halloween evening. If Lucas were somebody you loved, and not a madman who kidnapped you from the middle of the woods. If that were so, Lucas’s breath against your ear wouldn’t make your head pound – his calloused fingers over yours wouldn’t make you wonder how he got all of those scars. The sight of a sharp instrument in his hand wouldn’t make you wonder how many have met their maker at Lucas’s behest.

There is none of the joy you would normally find in this activity, doing it with Lucas’s arm around you and his body bearing down over yours. There’s instead, the knowledge that he could break your bones if he wanted to – and a desire beating at your ribcage to get this over with as quickly as possible without alerting him to how much you hate it. Lucas hums softly under his breath as he helps you scoop out the insides of the pumpkin--

You feel your gorge rise at the sight of his hands scooping out the insides alongside your own, at the sensation of the stringy sticky pulp and seeds as they coat your fingers. The viscera of the pumpkin, laid out on the newspaper, as if some grisly crime has occurred right here in Lucas’s cosy cabin kitchen.

(He doesn’t like a mess inside the house. You know about the storeroom that you’re not allowed in, having peeked in it once when he’d left the door ajar to go and pick some meat up for breakfast whilst you stood in the kitchen with the chickens pecking around your feet. When he’d come out and seen you there, you’d stammered something about Dolly the silkie having wandered off – and though there’d been mistrust in his gaze, you’d kept your eyes wide and hidden trembling hands behind your back and eventually he seemed to have believed you).

The flash of a sharp knife in his hand makes you start against your will, your back pressing against him, your rear pushing into him. He lets out a noise that’s half a strangled huff and half a breathy chuckle.

“What’re you scared of, angel?” He murmurs, and you are stiff and frozen as he gently, gently, presses the flat of the blade against the palm of your other hand. “I won’t ever hurt you. Not less you give me a reason to. And you aren’t gonna, are you?” You’re glad he can’t see the deer-in-headlights look on your face, even as you give him a jerky shake of your head, and to your immense relief returns the knife to carving. “Good. Hurts my feelings thinkin’ you’re afraid of me.”

You don’t know how to respond to that.

“I—I’m not?” You guess, stammering it out, trying to weigh out all of the options in your mind. If he was threatening you – one of those late night murmurs of “I’d break you into pieces if you ever tried to leave me, darlin’,” - then perhaps you wouldn’t have said it. But right now, he is pretending the two of you are a perfectly ordinary couple doing a perfectly ordinary thing, and so--

He laughs again, good-naturedly pressing a kiss to the top of your head. The pumpkin has taken shape now; a classic jack-o’-lantern face, jagged triangular eyes and teeth.

“You’re so cute,” he says into your hair. “Here. Look at that. Ain’t that adorable?”

Shakily, you nod. It’s not your best work – in your own kitchen, at home, you’d mastered the art of silhouetting elaborate scenes in your pumpkins. You’d used your favourite horror stills as inspiration (you force yourself not to think of last year’s pumpkin, of spending so much time carefully carving that iconic scene from the Texas Chainsaw Massacre into the orange flesh, Leatherface holding his chainsaw aloft – it’s better not to dwell too much on fictional monsters when there’s a very real one sitting behind you, holding you close, pressing a kiss to your cheek and resting his chin on your shoulder as he admires your handiwork).

This pumpkin is a little lop-sided; one eye bigger than the other, the cuts jagged and messy. But Lucas is smiling at it, and you force yourself to smile too.

“Where shall we put it?” He asks you, as he pulls himself up and offers you a hand to help you too. He’s a little too rough with it; pulling you against him with a throaty chuckle as you stumble, off-balance. Little reminders of your own fragility, your clumsiness and all of the things you struggle with always seem to put him in a good mood. “Windowsill?”

You swallow.

“C-can we put it outside?” You whisper, softly. “I know we won’t get any trick-or-treaters, or anything, but . . .”

You trail off; he’s looking at you again, the green in his gaze impossible to understand. He might be thinking about exploding into anger, he might be thinking about kissing you – but as you feel your knees threaten to knock together, he smiles instead.

It’s another smile that, on someone else, you would read as utter infatuation. Love, in all of its gooey, saccharine sweetness. On Lucas, though--

“Of course, darlin’,” he says. “Come put it out with me.”

You reach for the box of matches, but Lucas’s palm comes down over your hand before you can get a hold on them.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about that,” he says, as he picks it up himself, and strikes a match against the striker strip. You flinch at the sudden light, and Lucas makes a soft noise of satisfaction. “You'daa just hurt yourself. Leave this kinda thing to me, sweetheart.”

He lights the candle and places it in the lantern himself, before he turns to you and gives you an indulgent smile again.

“D’you think you can carry it?” He asks you, voice soaked in honey. “Don’t drop it, now.”

You nod shyly as you take it, hating yourself for playing along with him. If he wants a sweet, naive little thing who can barely take care of themselves and needs the big strong hunter in the woods to do it for them . . . well, you suppose your dignity isn’t so bad a price to pay for staying alive.

You are allowed out of the cabin, supervised. You’d earnt that right by being sweet and soft and obedient, by doing what Lucas asks and doing it the way he likes. You go out to collect eggs in the morning and you’re allowed to help him in the garden, planting vegetables and tending to those he already has. But still, every time you open the front door it feels like a treat – a thrill running through you at the reminder that there is a world beyond the four walls of home that have become your prison.

Lucas takes in a hissing sigh through clenched teeth as he opens the door.

“It’s getting’ later than I thought,” he says, to himself more than you. “I’m gonna have to get goin’ soon, sweetheart.”

You nod, and carefully place the pumpkin by the front door, where the candle inside flickers and wavers in the light breeze. You find yourself wishing that it would somehow escape its own cell of pumpkin flesh and set the cabin afire – wondering if it would really be so bad, to perish like that.

(How many more Halloweens will you spend with Lucas? Is it worse if the number is small or large?)

“Do you have to go?” You ask him, voice tremulous.

You don’t know if you want him to go. You don’t want to be with him; he terrifies you, leaves you feeling rattled and confused and conquered all at once, his presence looming over everything you do. But at the same time – you can’t in good conscience want him to go out there, to cut down Halloween revellers who merely thought the woods would be a good place for a spooky experience. Are you far enough away from wherever he might go that you won’t hear the screams?

You wouldn’t be able to pretend even if you don’t hear them. You’ll meet them later on, at the end of your fork.

“Awww darlin’,” Lucas simpers at you, grasping your chin in a hold like iron. “Don’t worry your pretty head about it, I told you. I ain’t gonna let a single thing near this cabin; you ain’t gonna be in a jot of danger. I promise.”

Your face must betray your anxiety, because Lucas tugs almost painfully on it.

“Don’t you trust me, angel?”

Sickly sweet and bladed like ice, you mutely twitch your head in a meek nod.

“Of course I do . . .” You whisper, and Lucas smiles in satisfaction.

“Stay here at the door for a bit while I get ready, okay? Fresh air’ll make you feel better.”

Unspoken goes the ‘don’t you dare try and run’. You can’t see yourself doing it tonight of all nights, either – though Lucas has been sweet throughout the pumpkin carving, you can already see that as he considers the blanket of night out beyond the cabin he is shifting into a predator. So you stand there, breathing in deep, slow, controlled breaths. Trying to think about how pretty the stars are and the candy that Lucas has brought you to eat in front of his crackling old television. Trying not to hear the thud of Lucas’s boots and the sound of him getting down the axe from the wall, the swish of the displacement of air as he gives it a few practise swings.

“There we go,” Lucas says, as he comes back. His axe is slung over one shoulder, and he’s smiling at you. He hasn’t made a single allowance for the cold; he wears the same shirt in a shade of forest green, straining tight over his shoulders and biceps. The silvery skin of his scars shine in the moonlight. “Don’t stay up for me, okay? Get yourself to bed. I’ll try not to wake you up.”

(Will you wake up, hearing him drag a corpse into the store-room? It doesn’t matter – you know you won’t get much sleep tonight).

He stands there in front of you for a long moment. Anxiety sends a bead of sweat rolling down the nape of your neck. He’s waiting for something – he wants something, and you don’t know what it is, and he’s going to be angry at you for being a bad beloved and he’s going to lodge that axe in your skull--

“Don’t I get a kiss goodbye?”

His tone is teasing, but laced with simmering anger. Grateful he has thrown you a lifeline, you practically trip over your tongue as you reply in the affirmative.

One slow, lingering kiss – possessive. You’re shivering as he pulls away, and he smiles as he wipes his thumb over the corner of your mouth with something that might be fondness and might be triumph, like a hunter who has his prey cornered.

“See you later,” he says. “Don’t scare yourself silly, now.”

You stand at the door-frame, waiting for Lucas’s hulking figure to disappear into the darkness of the trees. His axe is swung over his broad shoulders. The jack-o’-lantern beside you flickers and gutters in the breeze, your only companion out here. Lucas turns and waves one hand at you, and then makes a very firm ‘shoo’ gesture that you interpret to mean ‘that’s enough, now. Get back in the house before I make you’.

You close the door behind you and turn the key as he disappears fully from your view. You’ve always felt awkward being alone in the cabin – about three weeks after your arrival here, he had given you heavy warnings and set out to the nearest town for the kind of supplies he couldn’t make himself – but tonight, it feels all the worse.

You jump at shadows and feel like you hear screams with every footstep, your brain already playing out thoughts of Lucas in the woods surrounded by corpses, bloodied and grinning and feral-bright. You have to try twice to get the video into the player, and your hands are trembling as you attempt to open a packet of M&Ms and spill them all over the sofa. You pull the curtains closed for full immersion and almost give yourself a heart attack when you see light flickering outside, until you remember the jack-o’-lantern.

Eventually, though, you do relax into the movie.

It helps that it’s a movie about a werewolf stalking a suburban town; you don’t know if your nerves would hold out if Lucas had brought you some kind of killer in the woods movie. Even he, though, seems to have realised that – a quick glance at the other movies show you that one is about giant bugs attacking and the other is set in a hospital.

It’s not a good movie. In a different lifetime, you’d watch this with friends and laugh and joke over the cheesy special effects and the over-acting. On your own, though, you at least feel somewhat comforted by the familiarity of the horror recipe. The coquettish blonde in the hot pink outfit will die first; the outcast girl in her too-big denim jacket will survive to the denouement and will perhaps kill the werewolf herself.

There’s a sound from outside.

You’re half-asleep in front of the sagging middle act of the movie, but the crunch of leaves under feet has you bolt upright. Lucas can’t be home already, can he?

Time stands still. There’s a muffled giggle, and then a low voice murmuring something. You slowly, slowly, pull yourself up from the couch. You’re grateful to have pulled the curtains closed. At least they can’t tell you’re in here.

A hundred scenarios run through your head, none of them ending well. You think of every home invasion movie in a holiday home in the middle of nowhere you’ve ever seen. You could laugh at the absurdity of dying like that, when you’re literally the prisoner of some cannibal psychopath already . . . all of that, and some other horror trope catches up with you instead?

Three knocks on the door, and a voice jokingly calls;

“Trick or Treat!”

Oh, saying all of that stuff to Lucas about trick or treating was so stupid. Wanting a pumpkin out there so you could pretend to have one little bit of normalcy left in your life.

A rumble of conversation floats through the walls; something about a dead phone battery, needing to find somewhere with a landline, a map that didn’t seem to have any of the landmarks they’d seen marked on it.

(You can sympathise with that; the map you’d been using, once upon a time, hadn’t made a single lick of sense after you’d gotten into the heart of the woods, like some nature spirit was messing with you).

But that could just be a way to make your defenses fall, you think. You’ve seen that in movies time and time again – I need the bathroom, I need to use your phone, I’m sorry I fell over and I’m injured can I rest here--

One of them has the nerve to try the door; the key jingles traitorously in the lock.

You’re shaking as you approach. You can hear conversation now; a male voice and a female voice, arguing. They sound about your age.

“There’s a fucking jack-o’-lantern burning, and there’s a key in the front door, of course someone’s in--”

“Look, this is some horror movie bullshit, I don’t like it--”

“Do you think anyone keeping fuckin’ . . . those fluffy-ass chickens is gonna be a murderer? C’mon. It’s probably some old couple with their hearing going. I’m gonna knock again--”

Three raps on the door and you find yourself collapsed against the cabin wall, your knees trembling. You know you should answer the door and you should tell them what’s going on here. You should beg them to run and take you with them.

But now you’re faced with it, you don’t know what to do.

“Hello?” The girl’s voice is louder now. “Is anyone home?”

Oh, she shouldn’t be shouting. Lucas can hear when you drop a fork doing the washing up from halfway across the yard, and always comes hurrying to make sure you haven’t hurt yourself.

“Look,” the boy, “We just need to use your phone, we’re lost—”

Another voice cuts across the squabbling – one deeper and darker and grittier. A thick Southern accent.

“You sure as hell are,” it says, and there’s outright hate in it. “What the fuck do you think you’re doin’ on my property?”

The girl screams. You can’t blame her; at six foot four and bound in scars and muscle, Lucas is a frightening prospect at the best of times. But when he’s appeared from nowhere, holding his axe, like a horror movie villain . . .

“Shit!” The boy is swearing. “Look, man, I’m sorry, I didn’t--”

You do not see the axe come down – how could you, from the hallway, behind the door? But you hear two screams, this time – both his and hers – and you hear the wet sound of something sharp meeting something soft. Blade striking bone – the slick noise of an axe blade being pulled out of a body and then swung back in. The sound of someone choking on blood, of someone sobbing--

You don’t know how long it goes on for. Your knees give out long before the girl gives up on screaming, as you sink onto the floor and hug yourself tight and squeeze your eyes shut against the noises.

It could last forever. You try and think of something else; somewhere happier. What would you be doing right now, if you were at home? How different would your October have been?

But the slosh of blood and the hacking noise of blade and flesh worm into your consciousness, the very real massacre going on outside the front door seeping into every memory you try and recall. Your pumpkins smashed to pieces, accusing staring eyes of the corpses of your friends at last year’s Halloween party as a man with an axe mows them down in your living room--

The noises have stopped. There’s not even heavy breathing, now.

“Darlin’?” Lucas calls out, from behind the door. “C’mon. I know you’re there. You can open the door now. You’re safe.”

You can’t disobey him, you remember, as you shakily climb back to your feet, using the wall as leverage. If you don’t do as he says, then you will also meet the business end of his weapon – and he’s already said, in those jealousy-fuelled threats that he whispers into your hair at the most intimate of moments, that for your betrayal, he’d make it hurt.

You turn the key with a trembling hand, and have to force your fingers to close around the door handle. Slowly, slowly, you pull it open--

The front porch is a mess of blood and flesh and organs and other things you carefully do not look at. These people have been butchered for more than just meat – but you look up at Lucas’s eyes instead and ignore them. You can’t think too hard on it.

There are splashes of blood all over his face, flecks of red in his stubble. His clothes are ruined.

“You’re safe now,” he murmurs, and he steps forward and the tang of blood invades your mouth and your nostrils and gets on your clothes as he pulls you into a tight embrace. “Don’t worry. I told ya’, I won’t let nothin’ happen to you. Not tonight, not ever.”

He says it like this poor lost couple were a threat, and not just unfortunates who happened upon the wrong woods at the wrong time. The wrong house.

(If you hadn’t put that pumpkin out, they wouldn’t have thought that there was anyone here. It’s your fault.)

His grip around you is tight. You squeeze your eyes shut and bury your face in his chest for a moment, and try to pretend nothing has happened.

It can’t last. Lucas pulls back, takes hold of your shoulders.

“Well?” He says – and bile rises in your throat as you realise you have to say it. You have to do it. If you want to stay on his good side--

“Thank you,” you breathe out, hating yourself for every syllable. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

And as you stretch onto your tiptoes and Lucas bends down to meet your lips for a thank you kiss, you pretend that there aren’t two corpses outside of the front door.

You carved a pumpkin. You ate candy. You watched a shitty horror movie. It’s like every Halloween before it--

He pulls back; a hand ruffling through your hair, a smile on his face.

“Happy Halloween, darlin’. You get back inside while I clean this up, okay? Night ain’t over yet.”

#yandere oc #writing #ocs.txt #oc posting #yandere for ts #cannibalism for ts #dub con for ts

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cespugliodifiori · 4 months

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[Sooo i’ve recently watched Hazbin Hotel and the character Alastor has caught my eye 😭 like i’m so obsessed with him that it isn’t funny anymore- But anyways i’ve thought about some head-cannons for him(they might not be accurate and english isn’t my first language so if you find grammatical errors i sincerely apologize) THE END IS ANGSTY (sorry i just had to, i added a ‘dangerously yours’ reference)]

How would Alastor express his “love” for you

• The first time you met him he actually freaked you the fuck out, i mean he had that big smile on his face ALL THE TIME, it was creepy. But after a few days he won you over with his ‘personality’.

• I think that he isn’t the type to have a serious relationship with someone, but he would rather have a ‘soft’ spot for you.

• Sometimes he would open the door for you, if he’s ahead of you, but one time he walked faster than you so he could reach out for the door first and say “Ladies first!”.

• One time, while Niffty was playing with your hair (or horns if your oc has horns) you were doing a crossword. When suddenly Alastor sat down next to you and helped you with some words, since his vocabulary is much more expanded than yours.

• He would definitely keep your tea warm if you’re having a conversation with someone and forget to drink it, while he’s around.

• You always wondered why would he do these little things for you, he still made you somewhat uncomfortable when he’s around but that’s just the aura he gives off, right?.

• One time, while you were sitting in the small bar of the hotel, you were eating cookies and milk for breakfast, when accidentally a cookie fell in the mug and you were about to get a spoon, but Alastor used his magic to pick up the cookie, you were weirded out at first and looked at him suspicious but he only smiled at you, “when did he get here?” you thought while munching on the cookie.

• It actually made him smile more when he saw you laughing at his sassiness or at one of his jokes.

• You found his deer ears to be entertaining, of course you didn’t dare to touch them, but time to time he would make them move (like letting them react to noises yk-) just to see a little smile on your face.

• Sometimes you would listen to him on the radio, it seemed like he always knew when you were listening to him, so he would always be extra sassy.

• He would call you “my dear” “sweetheart” “honey” “little one” “my fawn”

• He would make Jambalaya for you

• One time, Charlie putted on some music to make the hotel less depressing than it already was, a Jazz song came on and you noticed that Alastor looked up from the journal he was reading, it was a song from ‘Frank Sinatra’ named ‘It had to be you’. You were looking at Charlie dancing and laughing with Vaggie they were so cute together!. Suddenly, you felt a poke on your right shoulder and looked but there was nobody there, when you looked back Alastor was in front of you. “Hey” you said smiling kinda freaked out but shrugged it off “Care to dance?” he stretched out his hand, you were a bit unsure since the rumors said that he didn’t like to be touched, but he wouldn’t have offered then, right? “Sure” you spoke while taking his hand, his gloves feeling cold as ever and he took you on the ‘dance floor’. Charlie was surprised but happy that you and Alastor were getting along, she seemed excited!. It was the best dance you’ve ever had.

• When Husk pointed out that you would always get the princess treatment with Alastor, you tried to disapprove “it’s not that, he’s just kind sometimes” “oh really? how can you not see that you’re literally the favorite among all of us!” you shrugged it off, and said “well take example Charlie! He treats her like she’s his child” you said in your defense, and Husk rolled his eyes “it’s not the same.” “where are you trying to get with this talk??” you looked at him while he was cleaning a glass “i just… don’t let your guard down. You already know what he’s capable of” you looked at him with concerned eyes, he was scared that you’ll end up like him “don’t worry i won’t” you reassured him with a smile, and he seemed a bit more relaxed. (of course this happened when Alastor was busy)

• After the conversation with Husk, you kept your distance, you only knew him for two and a half weeks and it seemed like he knew you already for his whole life. A few days have passed and one day you decided to stay in your room all day. You were reading a book, your mind was a mess you weren’t even actually reading. Suddenly a radio static could be heard, your eyes looked up and met his red ones, your heart began to beat faster. You gulped and said, looking away “can you leave, please?” his radio static stopped for a second and he didn’t say anything, his look could tell you already that he wasn’t going to. You got out of your bed and went to open the door “please go…” your voice cracked “what is it? what’s wrong my dear?” his radio voice was somewhat soft but his eyes were cold as ever, you held on the knob tightly than before “you know nothing about me, you’ve known me only for 3 weeks!” before you could add anything else he uttered “3 weeks?” he spoke your name softly and added “i’ve known you all my life” he gestured, his smile getting bigger, while his radio voice began to malfunction, he started to get a bit irritated “all your life?” you said in disbelief, you closed the door and stood in front of him “it’s true!” he stated “when i heard beautiful music, i thought: she likes that” “oh please stop!, don’t think i know that you just want me to sell my soul to you!” he stopped and looked away, the radio static stopping for a second and resuming, it looked like he was thinking of what to say. Your heart sank “…is it true?” he had that stupid smile on his face, he kept his hands behind his back holding his cane tightly. He quickly regained composure, he’s shown you enough of his desperate side and spoke “no, my dear of course not, why would i fool you?” you were about to tell him of the conversation with Husk but you decided that it would worsen things “maybe because you’re the ‘radio demon’?” he laughed, his shoulder moving up and down as he did “oh sweetheart, don’t you get it?” he cupped your cheeks and looked down at you “if i ever wanted to take your soul i would’ve done it already!” he said his pupils becoming radio dials for a quick second, that freaked you out and he just laughed it off “smile my dear! you’re never fully dressed without a smile” he stretched out your lips before pulling away “want some Jambalaya?” he said walking past you, you cracked a smile and looked at him wiping the little tear that was about to fall “of course..” you followed him. Strangely enough you forgot about the conversation with Husk!.

[This is my first time writing head-cannons so i’m sorry if i’ve made errors! It was hard to make the conversations with Alastor since he has a very formal vocabulary 😭. The last head-cannon was related to ‘dangerously yours’ so it’s kinda weird but i hoped you liked it! Let me know if i should make more head-cannons or do requests! (i just need to learn how to use tumblr lol)]

#alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin headcanons #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons

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sissylittlefeather · 2 months

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Your Love's Been a Long Time Coming: Chapter 1

A/N: Ahhhhh a new series!!! This is the one that won the poll, so I hope y'all love it! Also, I decided to play with POV on this one, so I'm telling it from Elvis's perspective. Please let me know your thoughts in the comments!!

ICYMI, this is the Elvis x OC Vivian Choquette series. Want to learn more about her? Here.

PS- I love you @ccab for loving Vivian as much as I do before I even write the story!

Warnings: Not much, this is gonna start slow, but trust me, it'll heat up. Kissing, cussing, alcohol use, smoking

Word count: ~2.4k

By September of '59, Elvis was used to the army. He was used to the routine, used to the work, used to the people, used to the fans, and used to looking for a good time wherever he could find it. On this particular night, he found it at a party at his own house in Bad Nauheim. All his friends were there, along with a plethora of girls to keep everyone interested. Elvis moved through the party easily, making small talk and keeping everyone stocked on drinks, despite the fact that he didn't have any himself. Sometimes he imbibed, but usually he didn't. Although his beloved mama was gone, what he learned from her still lived in the forefront of his memory. That is, unless he found himself at the Moulin Rouge. But that was different. Here at his own house, he preferred to remain in control.

Despite having a girlfriend back at home, he moves through the house looking for a girl to talk to. That's when he notices her in a corner, her dark hair swept into a low ponytail and blue eyes glancing lazily around the room. She almost seems bored. So much so that she turns to the bookshelf that came with the house and pulls a book down. She opens it and begins to read. Elvis is intrigued by the kind of woman who reads at a party. He begins to walk over to her and realizes that the book is in French. He panics for a second and then remembers that the guys taught him a phrase in French. Surely he can figure out how to communicate with her. Besides, most of these French girls speak a little English.

He swaggers up to her, ready to try out his French. He stands there in front of her for a minute before she looks up at him.

"Bonjour."

"Mhmm." She looks down at her book, but he doesn't leave. He's suddenly nervous, but he decides to risk it. She's pretty enough that it might be worth it.

"Uhh, est-ce que tu aimes le sexe?"

She looks up at him suddenly and laughs.

"What? Did I pronounce it wrong?" She laughs even harder. When she finally catches her breath, she holds up a hand.

"First of all, I speak English. Second of all, please don't ever say that to anyone ever again."

"Oh. Why?"

"You just asked me if I like sex."

"What?! Those motherfu- I mean, those jerks. They told me it meant 'how are you'."

"And you believed them? It literally has the word 'sex' in it."

"Well, I don't know! I don't speak French!"

"Obviously." She looks back down at her book. He's not ready to give up, though.

"Hey, if you speak English, why are you reading in French?"

"My mother was French. I speak and read it because of her." She answers without looking up from the page.

"Was?"

"She's been gone for a while now. I live with my stepdad. He's an officer in the army." He feels the pain of having lost his mother too soon and looks at her with even more softness and affection than he did before.

"I'm Elvis." She looks up at him.

"I know." He nods and she notices the look he's giving her. "You know, I'm actually here with someone."

"Oh?"

"Mhmm." She points across the party to Charlie, who's making his way to her with drinks.

"Charlie?!"

"Yes."

"Well, goddamn." Charlie makes it over to them and hands her one of the drinks. He throws his arm around her casually and looks up at Elvis.

"Hey buddy. I see you met my lady."

"Well, not officially..." She holds her hand out to him.

"Vivian Choquette. Nice to meet you, Elvis Presley." He takes her hand and has the strangest urge to kiss it, but he'd never do such a thing with Charlie right there. He's been a good friend to Elvis, so no matter how much he likes her, he won't risk their friendship. Instead, he shakes her hand like he would if she was a man.

"Yeah, likewise." Elvis nods awkwardly and then turns to go back to the party. It's too bad that she's there with Charlie. He wanders around a little more, before he sees a girl that will change the trajectory of his whole life. Still, he never forgets the girl he met first.

******

The next day, Elvis sits at lunch with Charlie.

"So what did you think of my girl?" Elvis chokes a little on his food and tries to think of how he can answer without letting on that he hasn't stopped thinking about her.

"Oh, she's... she's somethin' else."

"Ain't she? I saw you talking to that cute little thing though. She seemed like somethin' else too."

"Priscilla? Oh, yeah."

"Little young, though."

"Yeah..." Elvis tries to focus on Priscilla, but all he can think about is Vivian. If she wasn't with Charlie, she'd be exactly what he's looking for. He's not sure how he knows that based on the half of a conversation they had, but something about her just draws him to her. Maybe it's the fact that she seems deeper than most of the girls he's encountered. Maybe it's because she didn't fall all over herself to talk to him. Maybe it's because she understands the pain of losing a parent. Whatever the reason, he can't stop wishing that she hadn't met Charlie first.

******

About three weeks later, Elvis is walking around town and he passes a cafe. He doesn't think much of it until he sees someone he recognizes sitting at one of the little tables. His heart jumps a bit at the thought of talking to her again. Then, he remembers Charlie with his arm around her. He decides to keep walking, but as he gets a little closer, he notices her shoulders are shaking. She's got her long, dark hair in her face, so he can't see her eyes, but it looks like she might be crying. He can't let her sit there alone if that's the case.

He cautiously approaches the table and realizes he was right. Her sniffling is quiet, but he can hear it. She's got a lit cigarette in one hand, and it looks like she's forgotten it's there. Her other hand fiddles with her coffee cup on its saucer. When he gets to her, he's not exactly sure what to do. He didn't have much of a plan beyond walking to the table. After hesitating for a second, he pulls the chair across from her out to sit in, but it makes a horrible screeching sound and she looks up startled.

"What the f-"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry. It's just me."

"God, Elvis, you scared me."

"I'm sorry, honey, can I sit down?" She wipes her face and nods.

"Yeah, sure, I guess so." He sits down across from her and watches as she puts out her cigarette and continues trying to wipe her face clean.

"Are you... are you alright?"

"Ha! Yeah, I'm just fine." She pulls out another cigarette and lights it. They sit in silence for a bit while Elvis tries to think of what to say.

"You sure?" Vivian takes a puff of her cigarette and blows it straight up into the air.

"Do I look alright?" Elvis hesitates. He wants to say that she looks beautiful, but it doesn't feel appropriate.

"You seem upset."

"You're very observant." She responds spitefully. He looks down at his hands in his lap. "I'm sorry; that was rude. You're not the one that cheated on me and abandoned me."

"No... Charlie?" She takes a drag and holds her breath, nodding. Finally, she has to exhale, so she does and then starts to cry again. It's killing Elvis to sit there and watch her cry without doing something about it. He stands up and offers her his hand. "Come on."

"What? Where are we going?"

"My house is only a block from here. You can cry in private." She looks up at him and he can tell she's thinking about saying no. "I won't hurt you. Come on."

She puts her cigarette out and grabs her purse, taking the hand he offered her. They walk in silence to his house, but they continue to hold hands. When he finally gets her settled on the sofa, he sits next to her and leans back, spreading his legs wide. He's trying to indicate that she can relax and sit comfortably too. To his utter shock, she slips her shoes off and tucks her feet up under herself, also getting comfortable.

"So, he cheated on you?"

"Well, I guess that's not exactly fair."

"What do you mean?"

"I was the one he cheated with. Turns out he's been writing letters to another girl for a while."

"Ohhhh... and you found out about it." He thinks about the girl he writes letters to at home. What would she think of him here on the couch with this girl.

"Yes. I didn't want to be the other woman. Besides I thought he... well... it's stupid."

"What did you think?"

"I thought he wanted to marry me." Elvis's eyebrows shoot straight up before he can stop them. He never thought of Charlie as the marrying kind. Then again, he can understand not wanting to let Vivian go. "See, even you think I'm stupid."

"No, I don't. I think you just had hope. There's nothing wrong with that."

"There is if you're me." He sits up and looks into her eyes. The sadness rolling off of her is about to kill him.

"Why do you say that?" She looks up trying to keep herself from crying, but it doesn't work and fat teardrops slide down her cheeks.

"Everybody leaves me. My father left me. Then my mother left me. The first boy I loved. And now Charlie. Why does everyone leave? What's wrong with me?"

He scoots close to her and pulls her into his arms, resting her head on his shoulder. She doesn't object. Instead she lets herself be comforted as she continues to cry. He strokes her hair and kisses the top of her head. The pain of loss is something he's all too familiar with. He takes her face in the palm of his hand and looks into her eyes.

"Viv, this is not your fault. There's nothing wrong with you. I know what it's like to lose people too soon and it hurts. But it's not because of you."

"Why does it feel like no one wants me?" This smashes his heart into a thousand pieces. He wants her so badly it hurts.

"That can't possibly be true." Just tell her. Say it. Say 'I want you.' He wills himself to tell her the truth, but he just can't.

"You're sweet, Elvis." He smiles awkwardly and tries to ignore the fact that she pats his thigh. She leans her head on his shoulder again and snuggles into the side of his body. He knows she's just seeking comfort, so he tries to stay focused on being that. But he is a young man and she is a girl with her hand on his thigh and his imagination is running wild with what would happen if he carried her to his bedroom. He swallows deeply and begs his body not to respond physically to what's in his mind.

Still, there's an electric charge in the air that she has to notice too. Almost at the same time, they pull back and look into each other's eyes. He puts his knuckle under her chin and looks down at her lips. When she closes her eyes, he knows he has the green light, so he leans in and softly presses his lips to hers. Something bubbles up inside him and his hands begin to tremble. He backs up slightly and hovers just above her lips. They both smile and he dives back in for a deeper kiss, dipping his tongue into her mouth to slide against hers. She nibbles on his bottom lip a little and he groans. His hands rest on her hips in an attempt to get them to stop shaking and he eventually lifts her into his lap to straddle him. The intensity of their kissing increases as his hands roam over her body.

Suddenly, she pulls back breathlessly.

"Wait. Elvis, do you have a girlfriend back home?" His mouth pops open. He's not sure how to answer. Yes, he has Anita at home, but for the right girl, for her, he'd end that in a heartbeat. "Answer the question."

"Well... I-I-I..."

"That's all I need to hear." She peels herself off of him and stands up, smoothing her hair.

"No, honey, wait-"

"No. You're basically doing the same thing that Charlie just did. All you G.I.s are the same."

"Hon, please-"

"My name is Vivian!"

"Viv, just, don't leave..." she tries to put her heels back on and stumbles to get the second one on. He uses both hands to steady her as she does.

"Elvis, no. Good luck with Priscilla."

"Wait-?"

"You know she's 14."

"She's 14?!"

"So, you know, have fun with that." Vivian stomps towards the door with him close on her heels. He doesn't know how to make her understand that she's all he wants. Priscilla, Anita, none of them compare to her. But he doesn't know how to say that, so instead he watches as she walks out his front door, catches a cab, and disappears from his life.

******

Or so he thinks. In 1961, Elvis is home from the army and back to his film career. In March, he leaves the continental US to get ready to film Blue Hawaii. He arrives and goes to a cast meeting on set where the director is excited to introduce his costar. His first view of her is from behind and his heart skips. Surely it can't be?

"This is Vivian Choquette. She'll be playing your girlfriend, Maile Duval." She turns to face him and smiles awkwardly. Elvis tries to hide his excitement, hoping his trembling hands won't give him away.

"Hello again..."

******

Until chapter 2. Thoughts so far?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist (let me know if you want to be added or removed):

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax

#elvis presley #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis #elvis presley fic #elvis fanfiction #elvis fic #elvis presley fanfic #elvis x oc #elvis presley x oc #Elvis x Vivian choquette #Vivian Choquette #your loves been a long time coming #ylbaltc

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patheticdarling · 10 months

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Mad With Grief

Summary: Queen Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon swore to avenge their son, Prince Lucerys. An eye for an eye. A son for a son. And now Prince Aemond and his sister-wife had to make the preparations for their eldest son's funeral.

Warnings: death/blood & cheese/mourning/death of a child/funeral/crying/depression/incest (Targaryen)/oc children of aemond & reader/suicidal undertones/possible hotd season 2 spoilers!

Word Count: 1861

*NOT MY GIF*

You could not begin to describe the feelings that lingered throughout your body. It seemed as if your soul was detached from your physical being and now you were just a shell of a woman.

"There we are, Princess," your handmaiden finished applying your makeup. You struggled to move your eyes to the mirror in front of you. She had applied a generous amount to brighten up your colorless face, "As beautiful as ever."

You swallowed the lump in your throat, "Thank you," it was barely audible. "That'll be all for now."

She gave you a quick curtsy before gathering the mess and leaving the room. As soon as the door shut, you could no longer hold back the tears as they came pouring down. The sobs followed soon after and you had no care to conceal them.

It was said the night your son was slain that your cries of anguish shook the very walls of the Red Keep.

"Who are you?" you demanded. You didn't recognize the two men before you, instinctively shielding your children with your own body.

"Debt collectors," the smaller of the two men spoke up. "An eye for an eye, a son for a son. We only want the one, t’ square things. Won’t hurt the rest o’ you fine folks, not one lil’ hair. Which one you want t’ lose, Princess?"

All of the hairs on your body stood on end when you realized just what the men meant. Your husband had killed Lucerys and now, a debt was owed.

"No," you shook your head profusely as you pushed your eldest son behind you, your two younger children bundled in your arms, "Kill me instead. Please. I beg you. Don't hurt my children."

"A wife's not a son," the bigger man grunted, "It has to be a boy."

"Please," you continued to plead, your older son weeping as he clutched the skirts of your dress, "Not my boys. Rhaenyra would not want this. She has always been merciful, please."

"Your sister, the Queen, has lost far too much. Her father, her baby, and now her son. By your husband's hand, might I add. I don't think mercy is an option any longer." the smaller man explained.

"It was an accident," you muttered, "A horrible, regrettable accident. My husband may be guilty, yes. But my children are innocent. Please."

"We don't want to hurt you, Princess. But a debt is owed. Besides, you'll still have two more when it's done," the man used his blade to elude to your children, "So, I suggest you make your choice before we kill all three of them."

You fell to your knees, there was no way out of this. One of your boys had to die or you'd lose all three of your children. You looked at each of your sons, caressing their silver locks. You would never forgive yourself for this. "Mummy loves you."

You kissed the head of your youngest son before shakily handing him over to the men, sobbing as you watched him mockingly rock the year old babe.

"You hear that, little boy? the small man whispered to your son, "Your momma wants you dead."

And before you could register the evil grin he exchanged with the larger man, his blade had already murdered your elder son. You felt your heart stop beating before the most Earth-shattering sob left your lips.

Everything after that shifted into a gut-wrenching blur. You could not manage to feel anything other than pure and utter grief, like a dagger was constantly being driven through your heart with every breath you took. You could not bring yourself to eat, drink, or even bathe. Your mother, the Dowager Queen, urged you to stay strong for your remaining son and only daughter. But how could you even bear to look at him? You had named your year old son to die.

You had not seen your husband since. Part of you wanted what every woman wanted from their husband in times of grieving, a shoulder to cry on and a place to feel safe. And part of you couldn't even stomach the idea of seeing him, of knowing that he was partially to blame for the loss of your son.

A soft knock came to the door, "Y/N?" your mother's soft voice called into the room, she let out a heavy sigh at your sobbing figure, rushing over and wrapping her arms around you.

You fell into her touch. You never had the best relationship with your mother growing up but she loved your children nearly as much as you and Aemond did. It was her who looked in on your babies everyday since.

"My dearest girl," she sniffled as she stroked your hair, "Shhh, it's alright. I'm here."

"I cannot do this, Mother," you cried, "I-I cannot say goodbye to him so soon."

"He's in a better place, Y/N," she tried to soothe me, "Somewhere safe, where no one can ever harm him."

"They already harmed him. And I could not protect him. My husband was not here! I was alone-"

It was as if your words held magical intent within them. Your breath hitched in your throat as your husband walked into the room. Your mother helping you both to your feet.

She took in a deep breath, "I'll go see if the carriage is ready. Ring the bell if you need me," she tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before moving to greet Aemond with a quick kiss on the cheek.

Your eyes remained locked with his until the minute the door clicked shut and suddenly you lacked the strength to stand once again. Your knees hit the floor as you broke back into sobs.

Aemond dropped everything and rushed over to hold you, "I am so sorry, I am so sorry," he muttered over and over again.

You couldn't help but cling to him, the contempt you held falling as you grieved your child together, "My sweet boy. My first baby boy."

"I will avenge him, I swear this to you, my love-"

"Avenge him?!" you nearly pushed him back and onto his ass as the blame you placed on your husband returned, "Your vengeance is the reason why Rhaenyra wanted one of our sons dead in the first place!"

Both of you now rose to your feet, "I told you it was an accident. I lost control of Vhagar and-"

"And now our son is dead," you concluded. Aemond's jaw clenched at your words. "Did they tell you what they made me do?"

"Y/N, we don't have to discuss this."

"Did they tell you, Aemond?" you reiterated, Aemond softly shook his head at your question, "They made me choose. Choose which of our sons to die. They said there was a debt to be paid. I begged them to kill me instead. But Rhaenyra wanted a son. Said they would kill all three of them if I didn't choose." Tears fell from Aemond's remaining eye as you continued to speak shakily, "And I named Jaehaerys. Our sweet baby. I thought perhaps he was too young to understand. And Viserys-" your voice caught in your throat at the mention of your late son, "He is our first son and the only heir until Helaena gives Aegon a son. And they butchered him like a sheep for slaughter."

"I never meant for any of this to happen, Y/N. And I will never forgive myself for letting them hurt you or our children."

"I have not been to the nursery since," you ignored his apologies, "How can I mother a child that I was willing to sacrifice? I shouldn't even be allowed to call myself a mother after what I've done."

"Y/N, you are the best mother and our children, they need you. Nobody else could raise them as admirably as you have."

You just shook your head as the bells of King's Landing rang in the background, "We must go. The funeral is starting."

Aemond tried to reach for your hand, "My love, we do not-"

You simply pulled away, not saying another word as you gathered yourself, ringing the bell for your mother and maids to return.

"Are we ready?" your mother asked, you simply nodded before taking her arm.

"Y/N, please," Aemond tried yet again to pull you back to him.

"Aemond," your mother cut him off, "That is enough. We must all be going now."

You could not recall the events of your son's funeral. Not the precession, the burial, the speeches, or even how you returned to the castle after. It felt as if it all took too much effort. Your children were your only reasons for living and yet you couldn't even bear to mother them as you wished. Because wanting was too much. You felt you didn't deserve to want any longer. Living was too much effort.

"Y/N!" your husband's horrified tone rang in your ears. Your mind finally registering what your body had done.

As you looked down at the perilous fall to the spikes that decorated the fall from the Red Keep. Your toes basically hanging off as you stood on the ledge.

"Please, darling," Aemond quietly begged, "We need you. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, they need you. I need you."

Matching streams of tears ran down both you and Aemond's cheeks. This is what it was to be mad with grief. To be so heartbroken that you cared so little about living.

You were sure the rest of your family was grieving your son as well. But not like this. None of them could even begin to fathom the thoughts or feelings you had, or did not have any longer.

"Y/N, please come down from the ledge," Aemond sobbed and begged. You had never seen him so broken, so fearful. And it might've been at that moment that you realized that Aemond might have been the only person in the whole of the Seven Kingdoms who shared in your despair. Strangely, that relieved you. To know you were not alone in your mourning.

Slowly and with Aemond's muttered encouragement, you stepped down and back onto the floor of your bedchamber. Aemond did not rush to put his arms around you or even rush over to you at all. He took quiet and calculated strides, the anguish that had built in his body at the thought of losing you, seemed to melt away with each step.

Though the tears still poured from both of you as he gently cupped your face in his hands, "I'm sorry, Aemond. Truly, I-"

"Shhh," his voice shook under the softness of his tone. Aemond softly pulled you into his embrace. His sobs muffled in your silver locks and yours muffled in his dark-green clad chest. The two of you gradually sinking to the floor, never loosening your grip on the other. The two of you quietly afraid of what might happen if you let the other go.

That maddening grief settled for a moment.

"We will avenge him."

Before taking over once again.

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x targaryen reader #aemond targaryen x reader #angst #fem reader #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon #house targaryen #hotd spoilers #alicent hightower #prince aemond #aemond targaryen angst #aemond the kinslayer #rhaenyra targaryen

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badkitty3000 · 4 months

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Lewd Public Acts: Five x OC One Shot

Getting busy in a public space with people around? The idea of someone witnessing everything becomes a turn on for Five's wife, and he is definitely up for the challenge. After all, he can never deny her anything. And, let's face it; there might be something in it for him, too.

Warnings: Smut, Public sex, Dirty talk, Fingering, Blow jobs

Words: 7,412

Here is a smutty one shot I wrote featuring my original character, an aged-up Five's love of his life, Vivian, from my Halo series. That AU spawned its own series of one shots that you can read here.

I love writing these two horny love-birds, so if you have any requests for a story featuring them, or Five and a reader-insert, let me know!

The traffic was incessantly slow, with the cars creeping forward mere inches at a time every few minutes. There was nowhere to go; not even a shoulder to drive on if you wanted to be that kind of jerk. Which, after over an hour of sitting in roughly the same spot, breathing in exhaust fumes and listening to his wife’s horrific playlist of songs, Five would have gladly taken twenty traffic violation tickets just to get out of there. He gripped the steering wheel tighter, imagining it was the neck of whoever had caused this nightmare to begin with.

Viv risked a side glance, noticing the red flag that was the twitchy eye and bared teeth of her husband. Her eyes moved back in front of her, to the glove compartment where Five kept his Glock, and she subtly pressed her knee up against it. Just in case.

About thirty minutes into this fiasco, Five had put the car in park and blinked out and down the standing row of cars to try and get a look at what the hold up was, much to the shock of the other drivers. After he had stood on the side of the road, hands on his hips, assessing the situation in the most Five way possible, and then blinking back into the car, Viv had scrunched down in her seat and gave the confused, older lady in the car next to her an embarrassed smile.

Risking making things worse, and possibly her life, Viv quietly cleared her throat.

“Five. There’s nothing we can do. It sucks, but there’s no point in getting all assassin-level angry about it.”

When Five’s head whipped around in her direction, she flinched just slightly; his face looking dangerously crazy.

“Yes, I know there’s nothing we can do, Vivie.” He drew out his words slowly and measured, as if talking to a small child. “But I am tired and hungry and very, VERY over this music.” He stabbed his finger at the screen that had just lit up with the beginnings of “Sweet Caroline”, stopping poor Neil before he could get to the chorus.

The car was quiet again and Viv tried to choke down the laugh she felt forming inside of her. It never failed to amuse her when her murderous husband with a long history of blood and violence started acting like a toddler that was overdue for a nap and a snack. The more she sat there, watching him seethe out of the corner of her eye, the more she thought about it. And then she couldn’t keep it suppressed anymore. The laugh started as a muffled snort, and then her shoulders started to shake. When Five looked over at her, completely unamused, it all burst forward in a loud, obnoxious cackle that had her doubled over.

“Always glad to be your entertainment,” he snarled, looking away again.

“Oh, come on, Five…you don’t have to be so dramatic,” Viv argued, even as she still tried to swallow her laughter.

“How am I being dramatic?” Five asked loudly, throwing his hands in the air with all the drama of a telenovela actor. “You’re the one that wanted to go to this restaurant across town, even though I told you it would be a bitch to get to. And I was right, wasn’t I? You know, sometimes you can admit when I’m right. It wouldn’t kill you.”

Rather than answer, Viv reached across with one hand, squeezing his cheeks and squishing in his face. She beamed over at him as he gave her the death glare. Part of the fun of messing with him was knowing she was the only one that could ever get away with it. Anyone else would have been swiftly joining the unidentifiable roadkill that was lying next to their car.

“You’re so super cute when you’re all angry.”

Five swatted her hand away. “Thin ice, Vivie. You’re on real thin ice.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “What exactly are you going to do about it?”

“Off the top of my head, I’m thinking of spatial jumping myself out of here and leaving you here.”

Viv scoffed. “You wouldn’t dare. Besides, how far would you even get?”

“Far enough to get away from this mess and to think happily back on the image of you still sitting here, crying tears of regret over your treatment of me.”

Viv pressed her lips together to keep from laughing again. Even though Five’s body language and words gave the impression of some serious underlying wrath, the tiniest formation of a dimple on his cheek gave him away. He may have actually been pissed at the situation, but he’d never leave her like that.

“Fine. You were right…I was wrong. This was a bad idea. There, you good now?” she condescendingly patted his thigh.

As she turned back towards the passenger window, in the process of taking her hand back, she felt him grab hold of it, keeping her pressed into his leg. She turned back to face him with a questioning look. All she received in return was a very evil smile of which she knew the exact meaning behind. Uh-oh.

“Oh, no…no way, buddy. I am not giving you a hand job in the middle of a traffic jam. Absolutely not.”

Even Viv knew her argument lacked much conviction; the sternness in her voice was definitely not very convincing. When Five didn’t respond, she kept going.

“Besides, it’s not like we’re very hidden here, we’re surrounded by all these other cars with people in them and it’s broad daylight out. Not to mention my very nosy window neighbor over here, I’m pretty sure her name is Gladys, keeps looking over at us. I think she likes you.”

None of that did anything to dissuade Five; it was as if she hadn’t said anything at all. He just grasped her hand tighter, that cock-sure smile of his never wavering.

“First of all, you need to make up for this disaster you put us in, which you have so kindly admitted was your doing. Second, I have a very different kind of job in mind for you, my love. And third, I know you; and I can guarantee you’re going to have your head in my lap in a matter of minutes.”

Five took Viv’s hand and pressed it roughly between his legs, making sure she knew he wasn’t fucking around. She could feel him growing and getting harder as he rubbed her palm over the top of his pants. He closed his eyes and let out a soft exhale.

“Jesus, Five. How can you be so pissed off one second and so horny the next? That’s not normal.”

He opened his eyes and grinned over at her. “Just one of my many talents. Now, are you going to get over here? Or are you going to keep pretending you’re not going to suck my dick when I tell you to?”

She laughed softly, but didn’t make a move, even though her breath had become noticeably faster and she stopped trying to pull her hand away.

Five unbuckled his seat belt and slid the seat back further to make more room. Then he settled back into the seat, spreading his legs apart and leaning his head back with his eyes closed.

“Darling, I really don’t want to have to tell you again,” he warned, not even bothering to look over at her or open his eyes.

As he moved her hand over the crotch of his pants again, Viv took a deep, shaky breath and bit her bottom lip. He knew exactly how to get to her. How to turn her from a strong, confident woman into a quivering mess of sexed-up gelatin. It’s like he knew the special, magic formula to instantly soak her panties and leave her wanting him. She may have been the boss of him in every other aspect of their lives, but when it came to anything sexual…Five was in charge.

After a brief look to her nosy neighbor, who happened to be looking straight ahead for once, she undid her own seat belt and leaned in closer to Five. She lightly ran her lips over his neck while she started undoing his pants.

“You’re lucky I’m willing to let you talk to me like that,” she murmured with a smile before kissing the corner of his mouth.

“You’ve been letting me talk to you like that since the day we met,” he replied; which was entirely true. Then he let out a soft moan as she freed his dick from his pants and started slowly stroking him.

“So, what’s going to be in this for me?” Viv asked, still teasing him with feather light kisses on his neck.

“Dinner. Maybe,” Five answered dryly, trying to conceal his smile as he inhaled a sharp breath when her hand moved over him again.

The movement stopped completely then, and Five opened his eyes to look at her unamused face. Trying to push himself up into her fist, but to no avail, Five conceded with a short laugh.

“How does this sound? If we ever get out of this nightmare and home again, I’m going to get you on all fours and fuck you with my hand, then my mouth, and then my dick until you’re coming onto each one of them.”

Viv could feel the unmistakable rush of moisture between her legs when he said things like that. It was an automatic response from her body; because it knew that’s exactly what was going to happen. She started to rub his cock again, harder and faster this time, causing him to flop his head back with a loud groan and close his eyes again.

“Deal. Just make sure you’re watching the road and pay attention if we start moving.”

“Uh-huh…got it,” he mumbled, his hand already pushing her head down.

Vivian was on him a second later, taking him all in at once, and letting him guide her head with his hand in her hair. If there was one thing she knew, it was that the man loved a good blow job. She’d given countless to him over the years, and in that time had gotten to know exactly the way he liked it and the quickest way to make him finish, too. She considered herself a Professional Number Five Cock Sucker at this point. She could have taught a class.

She made little moaning noises as she moved her head up and down in a certain rhythm, making sure the head of his dick hit the back of her throat each time. She gagged once in a while, but he liked that, too; knowing he was big enough to choke her if he really pushed her down hard enough. The angle was awkward, but not anything she couldn’t handle and she used her hand along with her mouth to speed things up. But when her neck and back were starting to ache and the gear shift was digging into her armpit, he was still going strong. She had another trick up her sleeve that would wrap things up, though.

Taking her mouth off, but still working him with her hand, she looked up and made sure he was watching her face as she licked her lips.

“Let me feel your cum down my throat, Daddy,” she purred, as seductively as she could.

Then she was back to sucking him off and she could hear the low groaning noise that meant he was going to do just what she had asked of him. His hand tightened in her hair and he held her down while he pushed his hips up, his back arching and body stiff and twitching while he lost himself to her expert mouth-fucking skills. He was almost completely spent, the last few spurts of cum sliding down her throat, when there was the undeniable crunching sound and hard jolt of their car hitting the one in front of them.

Viv did choke a little with the impact, and lucky for Five he didn’t get his dick bitten off. The car had been rolling so slowly that it had only gently bumped the other car. But it was still enough to do some damage. Not to mention the impact had somehow kicked the music back on and suddenly the car was being blasted with the all-too familiar lyrics of “Sweet Caroline”.

…touching me…touching youuuuuu….

“Fuck!” Five cried as Viv lifted her head up quickly and looked out the windshield to see what had happened.

She groaned. “Five, god damn it! I told you to watch what you were doing!”

“Yeah, I know!” he snapped back at her over the loudly obnoxious song. While trying to stuff himself back into his pants and zip up, he visibly winced. “I guess my foot slipped off the brake! I was a little preoccupied!”

Sweet Caroline…bum bum bum…

“You were preoccupied?! I was the one choking on your damn dick!”

“Charming, Viv, really.”

Good times never seemed so good….

“Well, shit. Great, the guy is getting out of his car. Oh my god, he’s walking over here! Now what?”

“Jesus, I don’t know! Act fucking normal I guess, if you can manage that,” Five barked at her. “And turn this FUCKING music off!”

Five practically punched the touchscreen with his fist and Neil shut up again. The car seemed extra quiet, except for their angry breathing.

As the other driver got closer, Viv suddenly realized the absurdity of the whole situation. She knew what they looked like; her hair a tangled mess from Five’s hand, lips swollen and her chest flushed. Five was breathing hard and trying to tuck in his shirt and buckle his belt. Then add in the fact that they had started yelling at each other, and Viv immediately burst out laughing. When Five looked at her, first in complete shock, he must have come to the same conclusion she had and he shook his head with a smile.

“You are a very bad girl, Vivian Hargreeves.”

“And you are a very bad influence,” she replied with another giggle.

As Five composed himself and got out of the car to assess the minor damage with the annoyed looking man; Viv glanced over to Gladys who was wearing a very sour expression on her face. Clearly, she had seen the whole thing go down, including the sinful activity that had taken place. Instead of hiding in embarrassment, though, Viv just waved out the window to her with a happy smile and gave her a thumb’s up. Then she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and licked her lips, all while staring the haughty looking woman in the face. She couldn’t help but crack up again when she saw the woman gasp and cover her mouth with her hand, completely appalled.

Later that evening, after they had finally gotten home and eaten dinner and Five had eaten something else just like he had promised, they were lying in bed in the dark when Viv started laughing again.

“I can’t stop thinking about that lady’s face. She was so horrified. I’m sure she was going to go pray for us as soon as she could get back to her church.”

Five chuckled. “Well, you did put on a good show.”

“Yeah, but was it worth that ticket and the increase in our auto insurance?”

Five pulled her in close to him and kissed her cheek. “Absolutely one-hundred percent worth it.”

Viv sighed and laid her head on his chest. “You know what’s weird though? I kind of liked it.”

“Of course you did. What’s not to like?”

She rolled her eyes. “Not that. Doing it in public like that. Where people could see us? It was kind of a rush.”

“Huh. Well, that’s certainly good to know. Let me file that away along with all the other dirty things my wife likes.”

“That file must be getting pretty big by now. Your wife sounds like freak,” she laughed.

“You have no idea.”

A few days later, Viv was standing in front of her closet after her morning shower, wrapped in a towel and staring at the empty space that used to be occupied by more clothes.

“Five! Where the hell are all my work pants?” she yelled out.

A minute later, Five strolled in with his coffee, looking suspiciously innocent. “What do you mean?”

She eyed him up with a hand on her hip. “My pants are missing. Know anything about this?”

He shook his head with a smile and took a sip from his mug. “Not a clue. Weird. Guess you’re going to just have to wear a skirt to work.”

Viv narrowed her eyes. “What are you doing?”

Five shrugged and walked to her closet, looking at the line of skirts. Picking out a tight, black skirt that would be way too short to wear to work, he placed it on the bed. “Wear that one.”

“Five…I can’t wear-“

“I thought I’d come by and take you out to lunch today,” he interrupted with a gleam in his eye.

Now she understood. This skirt was for him, not her. And she was pretty sure she knew what lunch meant.

With a shake of her head she smiled. “You know, this skirt would actually be perfect to wear today. Even though there’s a good chance I might accidentally give everyone at work a look at my Area 51.”

“Your what?”

She shrugged. “I’m trying out new names for my vag. Area 51. Like it?”

“I honestly don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he replied sarcastically.

“Yes, you do,” she grinned.

Five just smirked knowingly and left the room to let her finish getting ready. But when she opened her underwear drawer, she found that it was empty as well.

“God damn it, he’s good,” she muttered to herself with a smile.

Viv spent the rest of the morning trying to avoid the scandalized looks of her coworkers while also trying to pull her skirt down so it wouldn’t ride all the way up and show the entire lab her bare bikini biscuit, which she had decided was her new favorite term. In between wrestling with her completely inappropriate outfit, she kept an eye on the clock. She was supposed to meet Five downstairs in the lobby at noon. He didn’t say where he was taking her, but she figured that was because she was the lunch.

Finally, it was noon and Viv rushed downstairs, fully anticipating a nice long lunch hour consisting of an orgasm or two. When she saw Five she hugged him and gave him a kiss.

“So, where are you taking me?”

He let his hands roam over her hips and down to her ass that was just barely covered by the skirt. “I don’t care. Wherever you want. What sounds good?”

Viv frowned. “Wait. Are you actually taking me out to lunch?”

He smiled innocently. “That’s what I said I was going to do. Why? What were you thinking?”

With a very suspicious look at her husband, Viv cocked her head to the side. “What was up with the skirt then? And the no panties?”

Again, Five just shrugged like he had no idea what she was getting at. “Nothing. I just like that skirt, it looks nice on you. And you probably left all your underwear in the dryer like you always do.”

Viv let out a frustrated sigh. “You are so weird. Fine, let’s go across the street to that café. If I can make it there without flashing the entire city my pink velvet sausage wallet.”

Five choked on a shocked laugh. “Your what?”

“What? You don’t like that one? I thought it was a winner.”

“And I’m the weird one,” he said with a shake of his head.

After their actual lunch of food, where Viv fully expected Five to blink her out of there and fuck her somewhere private, but never did; they walked back across to Viv’s building where she went to give him a kiss good bye.

“Hang on. I’ll go up with you.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Why?”

“Can’t I want to spend a few more minutes with my beautiful wife? Is that a crime?”

“You’re up to something, Hargreeves; I know you are.”

But Five gave no further explanation, so they walked to the elevator together. Viv’s lab was on the 20th floor, and the elevators were all packed with workers returning from lunch. When the doors opened, a throng of people pushed in, filling it almost to capacity. Five had led her in with a hand on the small of her back and they ended up in the back corner, which Viv didn’t really like since they were packed in so tight. She leaned in closer to Five so she didn’t have to be so close to the other people.

As soon as the doors closed and everyone pushed the buttons to their respective floors, Viv felt Five’s hand on her ass. She turned and gave him a little smile, since that wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for him to do. But what he did next certainly was. She stood there while he continued south with his hand, stopping just below the short hemline of her skirt. Then, with a move so smooth she wasn’t sure how he did it, his hand was under the back of her skirt with his fingers sneaking forward between her legs.

Viv let out a loud gasp, then quickly shut her mouth as several people turned to look at her. Five continued sliding his fingers forward until they were perfectly positioned, the slick from her rapidly dampening pussy coating them as he started to gently finger her. Viv tried to step away, but he held her to him with a firm grip on her arm, and he moved her body so that her back was closer to the elevator wall. It obviously wouldn’t take much for anyone near them to realize what was going on. But as with most elevators full of people, it was awkwardly quiet and everyone just stared straight ahead or at the moving floor numbers.

Viv tried to clench her legs together, then she tried to wriggle her way out of his grasp, but neither one of those things worked and Five didn’t let up. As the elevator climbed the floors, stopping periodically to let more people on and off, she started to get more and more turned on. He really was an expert finger fucker, and he knew all the right things to do to drive her crazy.

There were still plenty of people around, although it had thinned out a little. Five pretended like nothing was going on, just staring straight ahead like everyone else. Viv had to close her eyes and bite her lip to hold in the whimpers that were dangerously close to creeping out of her mouth. When Five sank his middle finger inside of her, fucking her with it while also fingering her clit, she couldn’t suppress a moan. When a man started to turn around to look, she coughed loudly to try and cover it up and he turned back towards the doors.

“You’re so close, aren’t you baby? Don’t let anyone hear you.” Five whispered so softly in her ear that it was almost inaudible. But she heard it, and she also felt his lips graze over her ear lobe when he said it.

It wasn’t fair. Five had an entire car to fully unleash himself in before. He didn’t have to be quiet or hold back his orgasm. This was a totally different level of torture; even if Viv was both loving and hating every minute of it.

Finally, after what seemed like the slowest crawling elevator ride in history, the last person got out on the 19th floor. When the doors closed behind them, the long, shaky moan from Vivian echoed through the empty space.

“You fucking bastard,” she panted out before finally breaking free from his grasp on her arm, as well as his hand under her skirt.

Five just smirked proudly and then quickly slammed his fist against the stop button, halting the elevator between floors with a jolt and setting off the alarm. He was back on her in a second, pushing her against the back wall and kissing her hard, one hand on the side of her neck while the other slid back under her skirt. This time he didn’t care about being discreet, and he shoved the front of the skirt up so she was fully exposed for him and he picked up where he left off.

Viv cried into his mouth as he lifted one of her legs up to his waist, holding her under her thigh while he circled her clit over and over again with his hand. His body was pressing into hers and he was breathing hard and fast; kissing her neck while she whined for him.

“Did you like getting fucked under your skirt like that? With everyone around? Knowing you could get caught at any second?” he murmured.

“Fuck, I hate you so much. But yes…oh god…yes I liked it.”

“You better finish up for me, angel. We can’t keep this stopped forever. If these doors open, everyone will see what a horny little slut you are.”

With each heaving breath Viv let out a whimper until he had her completely falling apart; her hands raking through his hair and her head thrown back.

“That’s my girl, keep going,” he urged as he pushed harder and faster.

That was all she could take and then she was yelling much too loudly for no one else to hear, even if they were trapped in there alone with alarm bells blasting. Her cries kept going, too, her body pulsing against Five’s hand as she clutched onto his arms. When she could finally stop, Five pulled away and lowered her skirt for her. The giant grin on his face was incredibly annoying, but Viv could only let out a wheezy laugh as she tried to compose herself again.

“Fuck…”

“Sorry, darling, we don’t have time for that. This will have to suffice until you get home later,” he quipped as he wiped his hand off on his pant leg and then pushed the button to stop the alarm and get the elevator moving again.

They were only one floor away from her stop, and when the doors opened, Viv found herself face to face with several of her co-workers looking very concerned.

“Oh my gosh, Vivian! Are you ok? We heard the alarm and then we thought we heard screaming.”

Five smirked and looked at his wife, cooly leaning with his back against the doors to keep them open for her, his hands shoved in his pants pockets.

Viv smoothed out her skirt and ran a hand down the back of her hair, before faking a laugh and waving a dismissive hand at the group of worried faces.

“Oh, no, I’m fine. It was silly, actually. Five accidentally bumped into the alarm button and it scared me so I screamed. I’m so over dramatic sometimes,” she explained with a self-deprecating eye roll.

That seemed to satisfy everyone well enough, despite some suspicious looks, and they slowly scattered back to their work stations. When they were alone again, Viv turned to Five in a huff.

“I’ve said it before, but you really are an asshole.”

Five grabbed her hand and pulled her into him, holding her around her waist. “Sounded to me like you were having a pretty good time. And you’re always saying how I don’t listen to you. Well, I listened this time. You wanted public sex; I delivered.”

Viv couldn’t really argue with that, so she just shook her head and put her arms around his shoulders. “As much as I enjoyed that little ride you gave my panty hamster back there, consider this war.”

“Panty hamster? What is wrong with you?”

Viv laughed and kissed him before he stepped back on the elevator, still smiling at his crazy but adorable wife while the doors closed between them.

It was a week later when the war continued. They had a deal worked out every month where Viv would let Five drag her off to their small, public library in town and sit there while he pored over old, dusty textbooks of the most boring variety in exchange for him letting her pick out any movie to go see and he had to go along with no complaining. This weekend it was library day.

She hadn’t even been doing anything all that sexual. Just resting her hand on his leg while he scanned through some old physics textbooks and she leafed through a mystery novel. It’s not like she’d never rested her hand there before. Or absent-mindedly stroked her thumb over his thigh. But for whatever reason, this time, it was getting to Five. Maybe it was the fact that he was surrounded by books, and the quiet of the library, which he’d always loved. Or maybe it was weird, suppressed memories of him and Dolores in a similar building, only with fewer walls and less readable options.

Five tried to block it out of his mind, instead concentrating on the long, drawn-out equations and laws of thermo-dynamics. But he found himself reading the same sentences over and over again, his mind wandering to her hand and the warmth of her skin penetrating the fabric of his pants. Then his mind wandered even more. To what he knew her hand felt like on other areas of his body. Despite the internal battle in his head, visions of her stroking him, hard and fast, while kissing him and biting at his neck were working their way to the forefront. And unfortunately, she had noticed.

“Something wrong there, honey? You look a little flushed,” Viv asked with a smile as she moved her hand further up his thigh.

Five cleared his throat. He really didn’t want her to win this one. “No, I’m fine, thank you.”

After he continued pretending to be engrossed in his book, Viv took it one step further and pushed her palm against the swelling between his legs, rubbing it over the top of his pants. She heard the unmistakable sound of a quiet groan and she jumped a little when he suddenly grabbed her wrist.

“Nice try, angel. You may have me worked up just like you always know how to do, but two can play at this game.”

He held her hand on his crotch while using the other to pull her chair closer to him. A loud screeching noise filled the air as it scraped over the floor and several people looked up to stare. Knowing that Five was trying to embarrass her on purpose, she just smiled over at him and pushed her hand in harder.

It was difficult to keep up the façade, though, when Five was returning the favor by shoving his free hand up the sundress she was wearing and rubbing her over her panties. She sucked in a breath and closed her eyes. When she retaliated with a squeeze and her own rough tug it made him growl deep in his throat.

After a couple minutes of under the table rub and tug, they were both quickly losing their resolve. It didn’t really matter who was going to win anymore.

“What do you say we take this one step further?” Five asked quietly in between ragged breaths.

Viv took a glance around her. There weren’t many people there, but there were a few. There was absolutely no way they going to be able to just start fucking without anyone seeing. And last time she checked, sex in a public setting was still a crime.

“As much as I want to…and believe me I really want to…I don’t think this is the best place for that.”

Five ran a finger inside her underwear and she let out a tiny squeak before shoving her hand down his pants and grabbing hold of his dick. Five jolted in his seat, his knees hitting the underside of the table.

“Fuck, Vivie,” he whispered. “This is happening. I am going to fuck you in this library right here, right now.”

She looked around again and then noticed the quiet reading room in the back. It was used mostly by students for studying but it had several small cubicles with desks for privacy. Perfect.

Viv removed her hand from his pants and pushed his away from her. With a smile she stood up and offered out her hand to him.

“Come on, I have an idea.”

Tugging at the front of his pants, Five looked up at her. “So, I have to walk across the library with a raging hard-on? Thanks a lot.”

“Well, it’s either that or you sit here and wait until it’s gone and your balls are blue as fuck.”

“Fair point. Just try to stay in front of me so I don’t look like some disgusting pervert.”

“You are a disgusting pervert.”

His eyes narrowed at her remark, but he stood up and took her hand while Viv led him to the back room, all while trying to hide his awkward boner from the suspicious eyes of the librarian as they walked past. Once inside the study room they could see there was only one other cubicle occupied. It was by a college-aged student that seemed oblivious to his surroundings and had earbuds shoved in his ears as he tapped the rhythm of the music out on the desk with his pencil.

Viv saw an empty one in the back corner and they hurried over. She pulled her panties off and shoved them into one of Five’s pockets before straddling his thighs. He uncuffed his dress shirt at the wrists and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows like he was going to start in on some major work, before he started undoing his pants. Viv draped her arms over his shoulders, running her fingers softly through his hair and pushing it back over his ear.

“Do you know how impossibly sexy you are?” she asked in between her own quick breaths, trying to keep her voice down. Leaning in close, her lips brushed over his neck. “Sometimes I look at you and I can’t even believe you’re mine.”

“This is supposed to be a quick fuck, you know that right?” he asked as he revealed his straining cock to her.

“So?”

“So, when you say amazingly romantic things like that to me, it makes me want to take my time with you.”

Viv moved further up his lap, adjusting herself carefully, and sank down onto his dick. The quiet moan he let out sounded much louder in the quiet of the reading room. Viv breathed out a soft laugh at his inability to hold back. The skirt of her dress covered them so that at least they weren’t totally exposed, although it was going to be pretty obvious what was going on if someone walked by. She didn’t care about that, though, because all she wanted to do was let Five take over and make her feel good in the way only he knew how.

With her arms wrapped around his shoulders and her chest held tightly to his, her lips found their way to his neck again. With her face pressed into his warm skin, she closed her eyes and breathed in, convinced that he must emit some type of pheromone that was made specifically for her. She imagined this invisible chemical compound drifting out of his pores, being driven by his bounding jugular pulse, and going directly to the unevolved part of her brain that was activated only by pure sexual impulse. Because there was no way anyone else in the world would be able to turn her on as completely as Five did, just on scent alone.

“Can’t I tell you nice things and still want you to fuck me senseless?” she purred.

The answer came in the form of Five roughly pushing her hips down and forward, using his strength to pump her body back and forth on top of him, despite what he had said about wanting to take his time.

Viv whimpered softly next to his ear and she could hear the sexy grunting noises he was making under his breath as he thrust her aggressively over his cock. Her body was being driven exclusively by his strength, with his fingers digging into her hips and ass; the muscles in his forearms straining as he worked hard and fast. The chair started to creak with the movement and the legs thumped and scraped on the floor.

“Someone’s going to hear us,” she whispered, her breath catching in her throat.

“I don’t care,” Five answered, looking her in the eyes while his hair fell over his own.

Viv bit her lip to suppress a moan and she smiled at him. “What would you do if we got caught?”

“They can watch all they want. But nothing is going to stop me from Fucking. You.”

His last two words were accentuated with more forceful thrusts, slamming her down so hard that the chair was loudly shoved backwards.

“Do more of that, please Five,” she begged, knowing he couldn’t resist doing anything that drove her crazy like that.

Five gritted his teeth and continued to pound her body into his, the hot sleeve of her cunt sliding tightly over his dick faster and faster until he was sure neither one of them were going to hold on much longer. The chair underneath him was complaining loudly and Five tried to quiet it by bracing them with his foot against the floor, the sole of his expensive Oxford leaving black scuff marks on the faded linoleum as his heel skittered across.

Viv’s hands were in his hair and the back of his neck as she desperately tried to muffle her cries into his shoulder. She could feel her clit banging into his pubic bone over and over again until she was dangerously close to coming. She should have been in a hurry, trying to speed things up and will herself to finish so that they wouldn’t get caught. But the more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea of it. She wanted someone to hear. She wanted someone to see.

“You feel so good like this. I want everyone to see, too. Let them see how good you fuck me; that I’m the only one that gets to touch you. I’m the only one that gets to ride your dick. Let them watch while you make me come, just for you, Five.”

“Jesus, Vivie…” he moaned into her hair. “If you say one more thing like that, I’m going to-”

“Come on, baby; let this whole library know how Number Five Hargreeves fucks his wife,” she groaned next to his ear with a smile.

“Oh, fuuuck, yes!” he growled much too loudly, throwing his head back and digging his fingers into her waist while they both climaxed together.

Viv startled and put her hand over his mouth, but it was too late. There was no way in hell no one had heard that.

“Five!” she scolded half-heartedly in between heaving breaths. She was already trying to climb off of him on stiff and cramped legs. “What the hell?”

“Sorry, Vivie,” he panted, helping her to stand up. “You did ask for it, though.”

Once she fixed her dress again and looked back over, she saw he was smiling, not even giving a shit that he had alerted half the library. Viv risked a quick peek over the cubicle wall and by some miracle there didn’t appear to be anyone around. She may have talked a big game during the heat of the moment, but she hadn’t really wanted to endure the humiliation of getting caught.

She leaned her butt against the desk, trying to catch her own breath as she shook her head at him, watching as he nonchalantly zipped up his pants again. He passed a hand through his hair and looked up at her, somehow managing to look even more handsome than usual.

“How do you manage to do that to me?”

“What do I do?”

“Make me fall in love with you over and over again.”

Five laughed softly, looking slightly embarrassed. “Only you would turn a quick, public fuck session into a romantic date.”

After they smoothed their clothes and hair out as much as possible, and their underpants were back where they were supposed to be, they emerged from their little cubicle. They only got about ten steps out, though, when they were stopped in their tracks by a very stern and irritated librarian who blocked their path with her hands on her hips.

“I would like you both to know that we do not take these shenanigans lightly, and I have alerted the police who will be here shortly. As I’m sure you are quite aware, there are laws against indecent exposure and lewd public acts.”

Viv didn’t know what to say or do, except for turning beet red and looking at her feet. But Five just flashed the lady his best innocent smile.

“Actually, there was no indecent exposure. We made sure to keep it classy.”

The librarian huffed loudly and pointed a finger in Five’s face. “Now, listen here, you…you…hooligan! I am used to having to remind the teenagers to behave in here, but you are two grown adults. It’s disgraceful! You should be ashamed of yourselves!”

As Viv stood there, trying to decide if she should laugh or not while continuing to stare at the floor, the kid that had been studying at one of the other cubicles got up to leave, but stopped in front of Five on his way out, a big grin on his face. He offered out his hand for a fist bump.

“Dude, way to go, that was awesome. Seriously, best study session ever.” His eyes roamed over Vivian. “Whoa, she’s hot, too.”

Ignoring the other guy’s attempt at male bonding, Five put his arm protectively around Viv’s waist and pulled her against his hip. With another heart-melting smirk that had her trying not to laugh again, he raised his eyebrows at her. Viv could feel the tell-tale staticky sensation vibrate against her body as Five was already flexing his hands.

“Ready to leave, darling?”

Viv nodded with a smile. “Yep.”

“Tell the cops we said hi,” Five snarked just before opening one of his convenient portals and jumping them both out of there.

They landed slightly off from his intended mark in the parking lot, Viv’s back slamming into their car door. Post-orgasm blinks were always a bit trickier for him.

“Ow!” she cried.

“Sorry, are you ok?”

Vivie nodded, rubbing her back but still smiling. “Nice one, by the way. Poor lady, though. At least she’ll have something to talk about at her next knitting circle.”

Five laughed. “I don’t think they talk about lewd public acts in knitting circles. At least not hers, I’m guessing. But I’m pretty happy that I got called a hooligan. That’s a new one.”

As they both got into the car and Five started it up, he turned to his wife, with her messy hair and flushed cheeks, and smiled.

“So, where should we plan our next little adventure?”

“Next adventure? Uh-oh, I got you addicted to being a sex criminal now, didn’t I?”

He leaned in and gave her a gentle kiss. “I think it’s more like I’m just addicted to you, angel.”

“See? There you go again, being annoyingly sexy and making me fall in love with you again.”

A cop car pulled in, and Five drove quickly out of there, one hand on the wheel and the other on her leg. He gave her bare thigh a squeeze as he turned out into traffic. “As long as you keep feeling that way, Vivie, consider me one very happy and lucky man.”

Link to my Master List

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poppadom0912 · 9 months

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Hi! You have so many good Chicago stories! I had an idea for a Will Halstead fic, if you'd be interested... OC/Reader is a nurse at Med, she and Will are a (newish?) couple. She has been sick or hurt, but isn't telling Will, to avoid worrying him - Sharon (or someone) has been on his ass, for something he didn't do of course, but he's been under a microscope, so she doesn't want to bother or distract him - until she passes out or ends up in an OR (depending on the illness/injury) and he finds out after the fact... Heavy on the angst is always good ;)

A/N: I'm a sucker for angst. Hope this is good enough. I tried researching as accurately as possible but there might be inaccuracies.

I'm posting this is celebration of not failing my exams which means no resitting! I didn't get the high grades I wanted but we move on. Enjoy!! Hope this is good enough.

Warnings: Canon-typical injuries, blood, angst w a happy ending, surgery

*****

Becoming a nurse was inevitable for you because it was the next best thing after a doctor and you didn't want to go through all those extra years of learning and debt.

You were born with a congenital heart defect as a result of your mother poorly caring for her diabetes during pregnancy. All your life, your parents had been on top of your health, always dragging you to specialists and making sure you were still taking your meds.

You moved states several years ago and now you weren't constantly reminded of the defect you were born with.

There were times though when you did get forgetful and Will never complained about your bad trait that you couldn't handle, he shrugged it off and made sure your health was one hundred percent.

Your relationship was in the honeymoon phase, six months in you were both decently comfortable. Everyone was aware of your relationship but you both agreed to keep work at work and home at home.

Recently, Will was under extra scrutiny from Sharon because of a small incident that happened in the ED when his brother rolled up bleeding from his shoulder. No one could blame him for his reaction, it was completely justified but that hospital were being asses and wouldn't let go.

Following this, your interactions at work decreased at your suggestion to make things a little easier for him. And at first, it was working but then it just got straight up frustrating.

All of a sudden, following the intense summer heatwave, everyone's workload doubled and your hours never lined up. You'd be leaving and he'd be preparing for his second double shift of the week.

And things only got worse from there. You were so busy because of the nurse shortages that your priorities began shifting, your health dwindling down the list.

But no one needed to know that.

*****

Week One

"And that's me done, you ready to break?" Will asked, setting aside the tablet on the desk. You both took your breaks together as much as you could, any time you could get together you would take.

"Yes I am." You nodded, slipping your hand into his as you began walking out of the ED. "I remember someone promising coffee from the cart outside."

Will chuckled, rolling his eyes at the reminder of the expensive coffee sitting outside that you loved. Just as he was going to reply, Maggie shouting your name stopped him.

Sighing, your heart felt heavy both figuratively and literally. With a sheepish smile, you pecked him on the cheek with a promise to catch him later on during shift.

Not being able to get a word in, Will simply watched you scurry off to help the next incoming patient, leaving him to change directions towards the cafeteria.

*****

Week two

You should've been more attentive but being short of breath after a run wasn't uncommon. It was early morning and Will's side of the bed was empty so you took what used to be a daily run alone.

As the day progressed, you started feeling tired and your fatigue progressed. It should've been the first sign to you that you needed to slow down and take care of yourself but the next shooting in Chicago just couldn't wait.

"Y/N, are you okay?" April asked, standing besides you with a new file in hand. "You look pale."

"I'm fine." You assured her, nodding as you licked your drying lips. "And before you ask, Will doesn't know and doesn't need to be interrupted, he has a patient in the ICU."

April backed away apprehensively, always trying to check up with you whenever time permitted. Maybe she was also to blame for not being more forceful with her concerns.

It wasn't her fault that she forgot you had a heart disease.

*****

Week three

"I love you so much." You muttered against his forehead before stepping away to leave the dark bedroom.

Will stirred slightly at the contact, shifting under the covers and further messing up his curls you so badly wanted to delve your fingers into but you were on a time crunch.

Just as you were leaving the room, your chest clenched, pain suddenly overtaking you. Clutching onto the door frame, your grip slacked and your bag dropped causing Will to wake up.

"What's wrong?" Will asked in his half awake state, completely disheveled. He was blinking the sleep away while he turned to you and tried to see what was wrong but failed due to severe sleep deprivation.

"Are you okay? What happened?" He continued, voice hoarse like it usually was after a deep sleep

For some reason, you struggled to form words, your chest feeling as though it was being stabbed repeatedly.

And for some reason, you couldn't come up with a logical excuse and you stupidly left without a word to your lover.

*****

Week four

You couldn't ignore it anymore.

It felt like your body was starting to give up on you. You were constantly tired and out of breath and the chest pains never let up, at times, they even doubled and felt worse than the worst of your period cramps.

The biggest flashing red warning sign should've been when you fainted in the bathroom after your shower.

You came home shattered from your 24 hour shift. Just as you walked in the door, Will was leaving for his 48 hour shift. At this point, you really felt like the world was against you.

You were kinda like roommates more than romantic partners. You were barely at home together and at work, you tried to keep interactions to a minimum after the small incident that the board was elevating ridiculously.

Waking up on the bathroom rug, your body felt numb almost paralysed. It was like what movies described comas to be but your chest was still pulsating in pain.

You weren't being a really good nurse because you simply got up, drank some water and ate some food before sleeping it off.

*****

Week five

The silence was suffocating.

The two of you finally got more than two minutes together but words somehow failed you.

With droopy eyes and furrowed brows, your hands itched to grab the blue scrubs covering your chest. If it wasn't for your boyfriend sitting opposite you, you would've been hunched over the sinks in the women's room.

"What's wrong?" It was a question but with that tone, it felt more like a demand. His two words hit you hard, your eyes dragging from the table up to his big brown eyes filled with nothing but eternal love and concern. "And don't say nothing cause that's clearly bullshit."

And for some reason, you flinched.

Licking your chapped lips, you scrunched your eyes closed at the pain encasing your heart. Despite being back on your medication, the pain didn't cease.

"Y/N? Baby-"

"CODE SILVER. CODE SILVER IN THE ED."

*****

Today

For the past week, Will was hypervigilant about his work. Peter kalmik was never his biggest fan so it didn't help he was constantly making his presence known along with the more power holding board members.

You hated how he no longer fought his case and he just conformed, keeping his head buried in the sand and distanced himself from those he cared about.

It got to such a point that when Jay came in with only work intentions, Will physically forced himself to stay well away.

You were so caught up in your concern for him that you neglected your medication on the kitchen counter.

The pain today all of a sudden increased tenfold in the middle of shift. You were helping Doris turn over a treatment room, listening as she talked about her family drama that you loved to hear about when you felt the world come to an abrupt stop.

Before you knew it, breath escaped you and darkness enveloped you.

“Y/N?!” Doris shouted, going around the bed and crouching down besides your unconscious body.

As she started checking your pulse and your breathing, Connor ran in with Maggie in tow having witnessed you fall from the nurses desk.

In a flurry of rushed movements, you were placed on a bed as your friends searched for the cause of your unconscious state. Out of the blue, Maggie spoke up, reminding everyone of your heart condition.

Equipped with the new but old information, the cardiothoracic surgeon was now more than confident he was able to help you.

"Whose her emergency contact? Is it still her parents or has it been changed to Will?" Connor asked the charge nurse as they started wheeling the gurney towards the elevators. They needed to get you into surgery as soon as possible before you deteriorated.

"Good question."

"Page him anyways."

"Already on it."

*****

"I'm a horrible boyfriend."

"No you're not."

"All the signs were there and I missed them."

"We did too."

"I know Connor is one of the best but what if-"

"I'm going to stop you right there." Maggie cut him off, looking at him sternly, eerily resembling the face of a mother telling off her child. "This is no ones fault and you know that, stop punishing yourself for something no one could control."

Will opened his mouth to interject but stopped himself when Maggie held her hand up. "Yes, maybe Y/N should've taken better care of herself but as a doctor, you know that this surgery was inevitable anyways."

"It's better that she was already in the hospital and not home alone where no one would've noticed till you finished in another eight hours." Maggie continued, being more gentle as she got her point across. She was just as concerned but for everyone else's sake, she could be their pillar.

"Look at her Will." Maggie said, gently rubbing him on the back, hopefully bringing him some comfort. "She's in the best hands."

And of course Will knew that, he wouldn't say it to Connor's face but the man was a heck of a surgeon. There was no one else he would want operating on you but he was simply unnerved to no end.

He couldn't wipe off this icky feeling he had. It lurked around him like a shadow and stuck to him like a stain. He felt like a failure - he was unable to help you as both a doctor and a boyfriend - what good was he?

News spread of your collapse around the hospital and as an automatic response, the hospital board stepped metres away from Will, almost like he was sick with a deathly contagious disease.

It was so stupid that it was funny.

Will wanted to rip his hair out. How he was even standing watching your surgery was beyond him right now. He felt sick to his stomach at the sight of your chest cracked open, your heart just there for the world to see.

He never felt so useless before.

*****

Waking up was one of the most confusing scenarios you've ever been in. The last thing you remembered was being in the ED with Doris before blinking and the next thing you knew, you were waking up in recovery.

Your body felt like the heaviest gym weights were sat on you. Your mouth unbelievably dry as your eyes squinted in the dim lighting, trying to look around the room for any sign of life.

And right by your bedside, sleeping in a very awkward position was the man you considered the love of your life.

It must've been the movement of your head, you literally turning your head less than 90 degrees that woke him up because without any further prompting, Will was no longer dead to the world.

Instantly, he was alive and alert, no trace of sleep anywhere on his face as he made eye contact with you.

He felt as light as a feather to see you awake, the biggest weight being lifted off his chest from the relief that nothing went wrong despite knowing Connor made no mistake at all.

"Pulmonary valve stenosis." Was the first thing Will said, easily recognising the confusion painting your face. "Connor put in a balloon. They'll keep you for probably a week to monitor you to see if you need a valvotomy."

You hummed, letting him know that you understood everything he told you without talking. Somehow, without even looking at him, he knew and brought forth a cup with a straw in, holding it to your mouth allowing you to sip easily.

"I'm so sorry Y/N." Will said earnestly, his eyes shimmering as he intertwined your fingers with his. "I wasn't paying enough attention to you otherwise-"

"Stop." You interrupted him, voice still slightly hoarse from not using it. "Blaming yourself helps no one."

"What's done is done." You continued, squeezing his hands when he squeezed yours first. "I'm really the one to blame. If I took care of myself and did something when I first was having problems then we wouldn't be here."

Silence followed, the only sound being the constant beeping from all the machines attached to you.

"Never faint on me again, you hear me?"

"Can't promise you that babes."

"Yes you can."

"You're hilarious Will."

"No, I'm being serious Y/N."

"Don't make me laugh, where's Connor Rhodes, my favourite doctor?"

"Very funny, I think I'll buy April expensive cart coffee next time."

#one chicago x reader #one chicago imagine #onechicago #chicago med #will halstead imagine #will halstead x reader #will halstead #will halstead x you #will halstead fanfic #will halstead x y/n

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confusedemiposts · 6 months

Note

Hello! Love your blog's aesthetic, I'm new to Tumblr so I'm not sure if this message is sent through? Hehe if you don't mind can I request ranpo x reader headcanon/scenario where reader occasionally distance themselves from him because the more they like him, the more they're in denial. reader kept insisting they strictly adore ranpo as a friend but ranpo knew that wasn't the case.

I want something sweeter~

Summery: Reader being in denial about crushing on Ranpo

Tags: Fluff, gn reader, slightly oblivious reader, not proofread, bad grammar ,might be oc, use of nicknames (sweets, sugar)

Format: Headcannons/ scenario

Notes: I hope this is okay,I'm not used to writing Ranpo. Title is from Sweeter by Jess Penner

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡🍰<3୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

You loved being friends with Ranpo, after all who wouldn't?

He may have been difficult to understand at first but you quickly got along with his childish behaviour.

You would spend your time together eating snacks and playing video games when you could, always being amazed at his intelligence.

You found yourself feeling like a giddy child around him.

Heart racing when your fingers and any other body part brushed against each other, that was a normal feeling of course because of the sugar, duh!

He would know you liked him before you even did yourself

You who's mistaking your own innocent crush as just a really big affection for your friend.

I don't he'd bother with it till you figured it out yourself, after all you seem happy enough.

Unless he likes you too

He'd be more childish with you such as play fighting, sitting in your lap for no apparent reason or just holding your hand so neither of you get 'lost'.

He keeps his hand on you for much longer than needed, which he knows you unconsciously love.

Your hand always tingling after

You love when he's says he's feeling tired and dosent want to move at all even though he wants to eat his snacks, so what better is it than to feed him yourself he suggests.

You don't really protest, it's an excuse to be even closer to him

Bringing the sweets to his mouth that he has wide open, warm breath on your hand

You drop the jellybeans into his mouth and watch him eat

Your face unconsciously flushes

You wonder if he's lips would taste as sweet as what he eats-

Oh what was that thought just there?

Wow what a silly thought to be thinking about your really good friend like that

You ignore the thought at first but then even more similar one started appearing

The feeling of his soft hand in yours and wondering how they'd feel holding your face

You wouldn't dare go to a doctor because deep down you already know what's happening

The sight of his pout and lip jutting out, how you just want to kiss it off him-

Nonono those aren't supposed to be thoughts you should have about your friend!

But you can't help but feel those butterflies in your stomach

Suddenly growing nervous as he holds your hand

You 'mistake' these emotions as feeling sick

By "mistake" I mean trying to gaslight yourself into thinking that you are not in love with your best friend

It fails miserably as just the sight of him makes you heart beat 10x faster

You decide to stay home to get better from this 'illness'

You don't really get time to distance yourself because Ranpo will just confront you

He doesn't like letting unnecessary problems fester if he knows it's happening

Especially as something that he considers as small as a silly crush

He's very direct

It's been one week since you've started avoiding Ranpo, your hoping to recover from this 'illness' but your every single thought is about him and it makes you insides all warm and fuzzy, your face is always flushing and your palms feel sweaty, it must be a fever!

You'd be stupid to think he doesn't know that you've been ignoring him but what hopefully he doesn't know won't hurt him your lying to yourself . You know very well that he knows with that stare he gave you when you finally realised you liked him more than a friend.

Your face is flushing even at the memory when you realised your feelings weren't as platonic as you thought they were. You inwardly cringe when you remember you just ran out of his dorm while in the middle of a game, freaking out when he opened his eyes when you finally realised, and you finally knew he knew all along.

You cover yourself in your blanket as if to hide your embarrassment from the world. It's not that your ashamed to like Ranpo as more than a friend, it's just someone as cool as couldn't possibly return your feelings.

Your self pity is disturbed when you hear a knock at your door, standing up and heading to the door you didn't think much until you nearly slammed the door shut in suprise when you opened it.

Ranpo is standing there with a lollipop in his mouth and he leans over the door before you could close it, a cheshire cat grin on his face. "Heya sweets, what have you been up to?"

Your flustered and suprised and you couldn't do anything to hide it, you want to close the door but you can't, his arm is leaning on the door frame and you don't want to hurt him. His grin never falters as if he knows what your thinking, there's a light blush on his face.

"Ranpo what are you doing here?" You try to keep cool but your face is heating up as you watch the lollipop in his mouth. He leans forward teasingly, taking out the candy that was just in his mouth.

"You should know that sugar" You can't keep your embarrassment hidden as you blush at the nickname, how red could you get? "I mean, after all, why wouldn't I be here? You have a crush on me, meaning your someone someone who noticed my amazingness, and I love people who see that!"

"Wait, what—no, no, that's not—Are you actually—no, wait." He sighs as you attempt to convey that you don't have romantic feelings for him which definitely is not the case.

"Y/n. I like you too"

Your brain practically breaks at the words. You babble random things like "no that can't be- that isn't-"

He pouts, growing impatient with your failure of self sabotage and cuts you off by leaning in and kissing you on the mouth.Face instantly flushing,the contact only lasts a second but it feels like bliss. When the kiss breaks you unconsciously lick your lips, tasting the sticky strawberry flavour of the lollipop.

He exaggerates his reaction with a loud "haah! That was brilliant"

Your speechless and staring at him with your mouth agape, his eyes open and your face flushed, he has a smug expression from seeing your reaction.

"See! I am telling the truth! Now let's do that again"

I feel like I didn't do this justice and might rewrite it again 😞 (I lost my original draft so sorry if this seems lazy)

#ranpo x you #bsd #bsd x reader #ranpo x reader #ranpo edogawa #bsd ranpo #bungou stray dogs ranpo

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staytinyville · 3 months

Note

Hello! I love your writing so much! I was wondering if I could request a little story of a rather large plussize woman to be found desirable and wanted by Jongho from Ateez? I have been struggling with my desirability and how that isn't connected to my selfworth. I would love for the oc to have light brown hair with green eyes and glasses if possible. Thank you so much. 💖

↣ A/N: MISS/MR PERSON. IF PLUS SIZE READERS ARE NOT MY FAVORITE TO READ. And it’s like a very oddish thing because I myself am not at all plus size. I’m positive it’s just my all around size kink and extreme empathetic ability that cries every time someone puts themselves down. BUT IF I DO NOT LOVE READING THOSE.

Honestly I can create small little snips of how each of the boys gravitate towards bigger people in their own different ways. I can see all of them loving on you with their own affections and love language.

↣ Characters/Pairing: Jongho x Plus Size!Reader

↣ Genre: fluff, angst,

↣ AU/Trope info: idol!au,

↣ Word Count:

↣ Warnings: self conscious about weight, a bit of anxiety,

↣ A/N: I will be honest I was going for tears falling kind of imagine but I felt I didn't portray that enough/well. I also feel that since I didn't add much dialogue it sucked too.

Special Thanks to @saradika-graphics for the amazing banners as always.

Jongho would be one of the boys who would gravitate towards a bigger person because I think he would like someone who is healthy in regards to themselves. He appreciates confidence a lot and while he does enjoy when his S/O is happy to be themselves he also knows that things can be hard sometimes.

Maybe at the start of a relationship you can find yourself having trouble with your self worth and image but once you get to know Jongho you open up and understand that he isn't someone who will look at your physical appearance.

Jongho just gives off so much respect that it leaves you like bawling your eyes out at home because of how great he is. He won't pressure you into doing something you don't want but he for sure will support you and motivate you when he knows that your goal is what you really want in life.

Jongho is just so great that at one point or another, you will in fact be changing your mind about yourself because his respect juice is just over the top and his affections will just have you second guessing any self loathing you might have because that man loves with his entire chest/thighs.

The day had been extremely pretty and the weather finally let up to allow Spring to move in. With the snow all melted and flowing down the rivers, the flowers were starting to grow and bring about the buzzing of bees.

You were glad to feel that the wind was just cool enough to get rid of the humidity that came with the water. And because of that you were more than happy to wear a flowy sundress that gave your legs room to breath while your arms were covered up by sleeves. It was enough to keep you both warm and cool.

Jongho had the day off and asked that you both leave the house rather than be cooped up all day. He wanted to breathe the fresh air for a moment due to being stuck in the studio/company all week. And with the day being so nice, he wanted to take advantage of it.

You were left a bit skeptical about going out because of how you spent so much time inside during the winter months to avoid getting sick. You weren't really feeling confident in yourself but you knew that being stuck inside for longer would only make things worse.

Plus you couldn't tell him no with the way he held your hand and rubbed his thumb along your skin. And you for sure couldn't voice your thoughts as he told you that he had a picnic planned and to dress all nice and pretty.

When you felt the wind on your skin to check the temperature before going out your first thought was to wear the sundress you bought one day while out shopping with Jongho. You could remember the way his eyes grew wide and lips twitch as a smile wanted to overtake his face when you showed him it.

You also couldn't take the giggle that came out his lips when you wore it for the first time.

And so around midday, you sat on a blanket alongside Jongho under a tree that overlooked the river. He had laid down, his arms behind his head as he rested. You had your legs stretched out in front of you, humming to yourself as you read over a book while soft music played in the earbuds you both shared.

Jongho shuffled closer to you, making you giggle as you scooted over, allowing him to wrap an arm around your waist and nuzzle his head into your side.

You heard groups of people starting to make their way into your cozy spot as the day progressed and people wanted to do the same thing as you and your boyfriend.

You heard giggling to your side, glancing up and seeing people snickering. You swallowed thickly when you caught them speaking quietly to each other and kept glancing your way.

You suddenly felt uncomfortable, rolling your shoulders and wiggling as you tried to cover up more with your shin length dress. You pulled your legs as close to you as possible, trying to make yourself seem smaller.

You flinched at the sweat that had begun to form on your legs that were attached to the blanket, trying to use your dress to wipe it away. You didn't notice the anxiety creeping in your body. Not until Jongho moved from you.

Your movements caused Jongho's arms to slip from your waist, making him wake up and frown at your movements. He leaned up to watch your facial expressions. It was subtle but he could see the frown on your lips, the pinch in your eyebrows as you fret over yourself and the things around you.

"My love." He called softly, playing with the fabric of your dress that you had bunched up in your fingers.

He was slow in moving to touch you, not wanting to startle you and make your anxiety even worse. You moved your hands closer to yourself, causing him to follow the path and finally link your fingers together atop your thigh.

Your lips twitch at the, leg beginning to bounce up and down. Jongho finally sat up, moving to sit behind you. He wrapped both of his arms around you, laying his cheek against the back of your head as his thumb rubbed along your hands that he held.

He felt your skin calming down, no longer twitching as you relaxed in his hold. When he felt you go slack, he scooted closer, pressing his chest against your back. His chin rested on your shoulder, breath hitting your ear making you haunch your shoulder from the tickle.

"Are you okay?" He asked you quietly, lazily rubbing his cheek on your skin.

"I'm okay." You whispered, looking down at your book.

Jongho sat up quickly, causing you to turn around to look at him. You felt his fingers squeeze your hand pulling it closer to your stomach. He hugged you tighter to him, making tears well up in your eyes.

"What happened?" He asked quietly.

You knew he already knew. He saw it every time you would fret over your clothing. He knew what kind of anxiety attack you might be having by just watching you. It was how he showed his love.

Jongho didn't need to tell you anything. He always showed his affections in his expressions and actions more than anything. It was the way he held himself. The way he held you that made you realize how much he actually loved you.

It was riveting to watch how much he put into his performances and passion in what he loved doing. And all that passion translated into his feelings for those he loved. If you knew Jongho well enough you would know that with just one look you were going to be safe with him.

He was silent, an observer and only talked when it called for it. He gave his opinions when he felt that others were wrong but he wouldn't try to change their mind if they were stubborn people.

With you he didn't try to change your mind. He only tried to ease it. It wasn't an easy thing to overcome your insecurities about your body image. Especially in this time and age with technology.

But he didn't have to say anything. He just had to hold you and make you feel how much he loved you and your everything. Maybe there were times where you needed to hear him voice that you were beautiful but when he held you like he was now, allowing his entire being to seep into your skin and take your anxiety away you felt like you were on cloud nine.

"I love you." He called out, making you look up at him.

You smiled through your tears, sniffling as he reached up to wipe them away.

"I love you too."

#kpop fanfic #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez jongho #jongho ateez #jongho #atz #jongho fluff #choi jongho #jongho imagines #jongho x you #jongho x reader #jongho x y/n

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lair-of-asmodeus · 16 days

Text

♡ “Make Me Feel Heaven Tonight.” ♡

❥ Synopsis: After getting married, the couple find themselves in the bedroom unable to take their hands off of each other.

A/N: So... I became really horny and ended up writing out a rough draft (or at least what started as a rough draft) of Idia and Fawn (my oc) in their honeymoon after getting married.

⚠️ Minors DNI, will block on sight. ⚠️

“Idia...”

The poor guy couldn’t even look at her in the eye, or see how she gave his balls a little massage beforehand, or how her breasts felt around his hard cock... He could only cover his face while his hair went entirely pink, putting the lighting in the room into a somewhat soft hue. As she moved her breasts on his rod, he felt something warm and wet on his tip. When he managed to look around, he noticed that she was licking the head of his cock while it was between her breasts. He wanted to reach out and touch them so badly. He wanted to feel them, he wanted to--

“...Hehehe... Someone is eager~”

He didn’t realize it before, but it seemed like he was subconsciously thrusting up too.

“Y-y-y-you’re enjoying yourself... Aren’t you..?!”

“What can I say~?”

She gave a kiss on his tip.

“Your reactions are cute~”

He bit his lip while slowly removing his hands from his face. When he looked at her eye to eye, she smiled at him.

“Come on, Idy~ We both know it’s not a good thing to hold back~”

Her usual smug grin held a mischievous aura this time with a hint of lust. While she looked at him, she let out a small laugh.

“Would you like me to use my mouth inste--”

“aaAAAH!!”

Without letting her finish, he ended up shooting his load right onto her face and breasts...

After he caught his breath, he noticed that she was sitting right next to him with the same grin again. She was almost naked compared to him, only having her panties on her while he was butt naked. She shifted her hips and brought a hand on his cheek.

“Did it feel good..?”

Her question brought him back to reality. He was doing this... getting intimate with his wife... His hair immediately went pink again and he covered his face. He felt her caress his cheek.

“...Yeah...”

“Can we do more..?”

“Huh?!”

“Listen, I’m just doing the tamest things I saw in those hentai or mangas and.. I’m aware that not everything can be comfortable for some people... And I’m doing these to you, because... Well.. I love you...”

Heat pooled up on his face as well as other parts of him and he just sat there, looking at her with wide eyes while processing what she just said.

“I still don’t get why you even love me sometimes...”

“Well, no handsome men has called me their player two... Nobody but you...”

A small smile appeared on his lips while he sat up straight.

“I’m only showing you how much I love you... Your body and soul... Would you like me to continue though?”

He gulped while his joy turned to shock.

“I know I’m demanding a lot of things, but--”

He slammed his lips on hers while touching her soft chest and tugging on her nipples.

“Idia..~”

“Fawn...”

The way he pushed himself on Fawn, however, caused her to fall back and now she was the one laying down on the bed. It wasn’t before long that he went on top of her and kissed her while palming her breasts. He pinched her nipples, squeezed them, kneaded them and even broke off the kiss the suck on one while teasing the other.

“If you keep this up, I-I might just lose it...”

He heard her whisper. He secretly wanted it, but not yet... One of his hands went down to her clothed pussy while the other was pinching her nipple and his mouth was on her other breast.

“Idiaaa..!”

...He might be wanting her to lose control now though...

“Ahh... Fuck... If you keep this up, I might just.. ahh! C-cum too...”

He smirked.

“What’s holding you back~?”

“This.”

With that, she grabbed his dick that poking her thigh and started jerking him off, causing him to bite her nipple by accident.

“Argh..! I-Idy~!”

He kept rubbing her clit while her eyes were shut and she was panting loudly while biting her lip.

“Idia..! S-stop-- Fuck! ...I-I’m so.. close..!”

He sucked on her nipple harder while she closed her thighs together while he pinched her clit. As a result, she buried her head on her arms and tried to hold her moans back, but she ultimately failed, causing her to let out a loud moan. He slowly lifted her panties off and touched her wet cunt.

“Look at you, begging me to stop... Your cunt wants me in pretty badly though, fuheehee~!”

“Sh-shut up..!”

“Make me~”

He plunged two of his long fingers inside her, causing her to let out a loud whine as she covered her mouth.

“...I... Idy..!”

Wet and loud sounds were soon all over the room while he kept up a fast but steady rhythm. He glanced at her face for a moment while being jerked off and felt her going in same rhythm as him. Fawn’s legs started to tremble while she clung onto him with one hand while the other was jerking his cock off.

“You... close..?”

He nodded, because he was indeed close to cumming. His cock was also twitching in response, an obvious sign that he was close. And soon, they both did...

“Ahh! Idia! I-Idia! Idiaaaaa~~♡!"

“Mmh.. fuck..!”

...

And he collapsed next to her as they both panted with Idia’s cum having hit on her stomach. After they both caught their breath, Fawn went on top of him without missing a beat.

“Now we came to the best part, sweet cheeks..~”

And without letting him say anything, she practically slid to his still hard-on inside her...

“Haah~!! Idia..!”

[PLAP PLAP PLAP PLAP]

“Nngh! Mmph! Mm-- Ahh!”

He smirked at her while ramming his cock in her puffy cunt, causing more of their fluids to leak more onto their bedsheets. He held her chin and kissed her while hugging her waist from behind. Fawn, on the other hand, had become a babbling mess a few rounds ago. He wanted to rest, but the amount of horniness he has wasn’t letting him end this. He’s been wanting to do this more than anything, so... There he was, stuffing her like a turkey with his cum after they were finally married. His cute wifey...

———

As the morning sun rose, they were both cuddling and in each other’s embrace. Although they looked like a total mess with all the hickeys and marks, they were still happy that they had each other. To a new future and what’s to come...

#twisted wonderland smut #twst smut #twst oc smut #idia shroud smut #idia shroud thirst #🪷: deadly mermaid #idia shroud x oc

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ereardon · 1 year

Text

Friends Don't || Chapter 3

Summary: Bob Floyd has been your best friend for almost a decade, ever since he quietly agreed to tutor you in college. The two of you have spent years chasing each other around the globe – Bob as a WSO, you as a travel blogger. You’ve always been the anywhere-but-here girl, and he’s been your rock. But when a surprise diagnosis threatens to crumble your picture-perfect life, you’re on the first flight back to San Diego, desperate to put down roots for the first time. Will Bob finally have it in him to admit that you could be the love of his life? What will he say when he finds out the secret you’ve been skillfully hiding from him? Or worse, what if he doesn’t find out until it’s too late?

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x OC [Reid]

Tropes: Friends to lovers

Warnings: Cursing, angst, alcohol

WC: 2.8K

Series masterlist here; previous chapter here; next chapter here

You met Denver when Bob got stationed at Lemoore. You had still been living in New Orleans, planning your move up to San Francisco, but it was taking a while because the magazine had you doing an Asia tour: Vietnam, Laos, Japan, Hong Kong, Singapore, Nepal.

On your way back from Tokyo, you stopped in San Francisco to do some apartment hunting, before renting a car and driving down to Lemoore to visit Bob.

He was still a newer member on the team; everyone but Denver had been there for years. They were a knit family, and he was the odd one out. But at least he had her.

“You’re going to love her,” Bob said. He was teeming with excitement. Seeing him happy made you happy. You knew that he hadn’t quite fit in at Newport, his station before Lemoore. You knew that he desperately wanted to be part of a team.

And he had found that with Denver.

The bar was crowded. And hot. You were wearing a tiny tank top and a pair of denim shorts, not much of a going out outfit but Bob had insisted the two of you go straight to the bar so you could meet his friends.

Bob weaved through the packed bar, his hand warm in yours, over toward one side of the curved wooden bar. You spotted the familiar khaki outfits that screamed military. Bob raised his free hand excitedly in a wave and you smiled up at him.

“Hey guys,” he said, and a few of the khaki uniforms turned. Their eyes shamelessly rolled over you, and your hand in Bob’s, jaws going slack.

“Floyd,” one of them, a classically attractive guy with a broad jawline, said. “Who’s the girl?”

“Reid,” you said, sticking out one hand, keeping your left firmly in Bob’s. You shook his hand.

“Harvard,” he said.

You squinted. Another guy, even more ridiculously handsome, sidled up behind him. “I’m Fritz.”

You nodded. The other two were Omaha and Yale. The callsigns went in one ear and out the other. You were notoriously bad with names.

And then you heard a small voice, like a delicate bird. “Stop drooling all over her, fuckheads. She’s way too hot for any of you.”

All eyes turned to the right. A tiny redhead was making her way over to the group, her hands full of beer bottles. She handed one to Omaha and then another to Bob. Finally, her piercing green eyes landed on you and she smiled, holding out the remaining beer bottle. “You must be Sunny.”

You grinned. “I am. You must be Denver.”

“Sure hope so, otherwise I’m wearing someone else’s uniform.”

You laughed and took the beer, sipping it carefully. You watched Bob’s face light up as he spoke to the pilot. The casual way she put her hand on his forearm. How easy and light they were together. The way his eyes tracked her across the room. How she always brought him back into the conversation where he might have fallen out of it.

For the rest of the night you snuck glances at the two of them. And for the first time you saw what Bob looked like when he was in love.

“Hey.” Fritz approached you from your right, leaning against the wall where you had your butt pressed, staring out across the bar at Bob and Denver.

“Hi,” you replied, taking a swig from the gin and tonic in your hand. You were tipsy, edging on drunk.

Fritz followed your gaze. “They’re good together, don’t you think?”

You nodded. “Yeah, they are. Never seen him like that before.”

“Like what?”

“So happy,” you replied. “Carefree.” The two of you watched as Bob laughed at something Denver said, her eyes sparkling as she faced him.

“He looked pretty damn happy when he told us you were coming,” Fritz said.

You shook your head. “Nothing like that.”

Fritz moved slightly closer and you looked up at him with a smile.

“Live nearby?” you asked.

He grinned. “In fact, I do.”

You took his hand, weaving through the crowd toward where Bob was standing near the bar next to Denver and Yale. “Bobby?” you said softly, raising a hand and pressing it to his upper arm.

He turned around with a smile. “Hey Sunny, where’d you go?”

You looked up at Fritz. “Just got another drink. I, uh, think we’re gonna head out. Can I call you tomorrow, get a ride back to your place?”

He frowned. “Are you sure?”

You felt Fritz’s hand slide into the back pocket of your jeans, fingers gripping the swell of your ass. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Bob looked between you and Fritz with narrowed eyes. “Sunny? Gonna ask you one more time, darlin’, are you sure?”

You nodded then leaned up and kissed his cheek, letting your hand fall from his arm. “See you tomorrow, Bobby.”

You let Fritz’s hand migrate to your low back, guiding you out of the bar and into the humid California night. You weren’t sure why, but it took everything you had not to turn around and take one last look at Bob before you walked out the door.

Bob looked up at Denver with angry eyes.

“I shouldn’t have let her go. She’s been here twelve hours, she has no idea where she is. Fritz is a goddamn stranger to her.”

“Reid can do what she wants, Floyd,” Denver said, leaning her small arm against the bar. “She’s a grown woman. Besides, Fritz is a puppy dog. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

He shook his head. “I’m going after her.” He put his glass of seltzer down and started to walk toward the door when Denver grabbed him, yanking him back shockingly hard for such a small person.

“Floyd! Snap out of it man. She isn’t yours.”

“Yes, she is. She’s my responsibility, don’t you get that? I brought her here.”

Harvard shook his head. “Fuck, man, you’re down bad for her aren’t you?”

Bob squinted his eyes. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Harvard laughed. “See, I always thought you had a thing for Denver over here. But apparently you’re just the nerd in love with the hot girl next door. And she ditched you the first chance she got.”

Bob felt like his eyes were going to pop out of his head. He lunged forward, but Denver grabbed his arm. “Come on, let’s get some air, Floyd.”

He let her yank him out onto the back patio of the bar, anger already starting to pool in his stomach.

“Is it because of Fritz, or is it because she left with anyone but you?”

Bob shook his head, taking a deep breath. “Please, Denver, just drop it.”

“No. I won’t drop it. Tell me the truth. What is it about her that has you so wound up, ready to fucking combust?”

Bob sighed. “It’s just been me and Reid for a long time, OK? It’s a hard dynamic to change. That’s all, I promise.”

Her green eyes scanned his face. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you Robert?” she asked softly, stepping closer.

Bob raised his eyes to hers. “No, Sarah. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

She nodded, lips pursed in a tight line. The two of them stood side by side, leaning against the railing of the patio, staring off into the distance in silence.

***

You hadn’t meant for it to happen, but somehow you ended up hosting a pizza night at the house as a way to repay the team for helping to unbox all your stuff that had finally arrived from Brooklyn, along with all of the new items you had purchased that had shown up on the doorstep, much to Bob’s dismay.

The two of you arrived home one night to no less than twenty boxes from Crate & Barrel on the front porch. Bob turned to you with wide eyes and you gave him a small shrug across the middle console of the car, hopping out to examine the boxes.

“Sunny,” he said, exasperated. “I said yes to redecorating. But what on Earth? Did you buy the whole store or what?”

“Hate to break it to you, honey,” you said, opening the door and scooting the nearest box inside. “But your house? Your stuff? It’s depressing.”

“I’m offended,” he said, following after you with a box in his arms.

“No you’re not,” you replied. “And if you are, you’ll get over it when you see how much cute shit I got for us.”

Bob groaned, digging in his pocket.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling in backup,” he said, hitting a button and lifting the phone to his ear. “Rooster? Yeah, can you and Hangman and Phoenix come over? Bring Coyote. Reid bought all this stuff and we’re never going to be able to unload it all ourselves.” He paused, nodding. “Yeah, we’ll buy you guys dinner.”

He clicked off the phone and you laughed, already headed to your room to change into athletic clothing. “Remember that you love me!” you called from down the hall.

“How could I ever forget?” Bob replied, shaking his head and grabbing a box cutter from the top drawer in the kitchen.

That was how you found yourself sitting on the floor in the middle of Bob’s kitchen unwrapping a set of Estelle colored wine glasses and handing them to Phoenix, who was carefully placing them in a cabinet.

In the living room, Rooster and Hangman were fighting over the instructions for the media center that you had ordered, while Bob was chatting with Coyote as he built a coffee table.

You handed a blue stemless wine glass to Phoenix who took it with a smile. “So, how are you liking San Diego?”

You shrugged. “It’s alright. I like the beach nearby.”

“Bob said you’ve lived all over the place.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I’ve bounced around a lot. I did New Orleans, Seattle, Austin, SF, London, Barcelona. Most recently I was in Greenpoint.”

Phoenix put one hand on her slim hip. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Why here, then? Sounds like you’ve lived in the best cities in the US, maybe even the world. So why the hell would you want to move to San Diego?”

You looked out over into the living room. “It’s the only place where I can see him every day.”

Phoenix raised an eyebrow as you stood up from the floor, dusting off your knees with your hands. “Bradshaw is gonna ask you out. Even got a blessing from Floyd.”

You turned to her. “Bob said yes?”

She nodded. “Wasn’t too convincing, but he said Bradshaw was free to do whatever he liked. So just keep an eye out. He’s a good guy, Rooster. You could do worse.”

You ducked down, opening a new box to reveal a set of ivory plates. “I’m not really looking to date right now.”

“Anyone, or does that just apply to Rooster?”

“You two gossiping about me?” Bradley appeared in your field of vision, guzzling from a water bottle on the counter. He set it down and wiped his mouth, revealing a wide grin.

You looked at Phoenix with panic and she cleared her throat. “Was just telling Reid here that you’re a sore loser because Hangman beat you at darts last week.”

“Fuck, it was one time!” Rooster tossed his hands up and his genuine nature made you laugh. He dropped his hands and smiled. “Listen, Reid, if you’re not busy tomorrow, I’d love to take you to dinner.”

You hesitated. What you had told Phoenix wasn’t a lie. You moved to San Diego to spend time with Bob. It wasn’t about a new crop of potential suitors. But the way that Bradley was smiling down at you, and the broadness of his shoulders, and the air in the kitchen, all had you nodding. “Sure,” you said softly. “I’d love to.”

Bradley smiled so wide it threatened to split his face in half. “Great. I’ll pick you up here, say seven thirty?”

You nodded. The rest of the night was spent unpacking boxes, you and Phoenix largely sequestered to the kitchen. Hangman and Rooster finally stopped yelling at each other long enough to get the black wood and cane media console set up and you watched with a grin as all four men argued about how exactly the tv should be set up.

At the end of the night, you swept the empty pizza boxes into a trash bag and followed everyone out into the driveway to say goodbye, dumping the trash inside the can near the garage door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you said lightly to Bradley and he stepped closer, kissing your cheek softly.

“See you tomorrow Reid.”

He walked away and you heard Jake huff to himself, muttering under his breath, “What does fucking Bradshaw have that I don’t?”

You smirked to yourself, waving to Phoenix as she got in her truck, before heading back inside. In the kitchen, Bob was wiping down the counter, placing the last beer can in the recycling.

“Good work tonight,” you said, looking around with your hands crossed over your chest. You still had some boxes to unpack and you were lacking a dining room table, but the living room was practically brand new.

Bob shook his head. “You didn’t have to do this, Sunny.”

“Um, I kind of did if I didn’t want to live in a frat basement for a house.”

“It wasn’t that bad.” “Whatever you need to tell yourself.” You slipped past him, opening the fridge and pulling out a water bottle. “Alright, I’m gonna take a shower and head to bed. Goodnight.”

You started down the hall when Bob’s voice stopped you. “Are you really going out with Bradley tomorrow?”

You turned. Bob stood in the middle of the hallway, his hands in his pockets. There was an air around him that you couldn’t place. You nodded. “Yeah, I am. Phoenix said you told Bradley it was OK to ask me out.”

Bob grunted, turning around and heading for the kitchen, breaking down a cardboard box in frustrated silence.

You followed him back into the kitchen, one hand on your hip. “Bobby? Are you mad? Do you not want me to date your colleague, is that what this is about?”

“You always do this, Reid,” he said, shaking his head. There was something unnerving about Bob calling you by your first name. It was always Sunny, honey, darlin’, sweetheart. Never Reid.

“Do what?”

Bob looked up. “You leave a trail of men everywhere we go, Reid. I get it. You’re the anywhere-but-here girl. But you have to realize that you can’t do that this time. This is my life you’re walking into. You’re meeting my friends, living in my house. You told me you were settling down this time. But you’re still acting like the same Reid as before.”

“And who exactly is that?” you demanded, crossing your arms over your chest.

Bob let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t want to do this right now.”

“You started this,” you practically shouted. “So fucking end it, Bobby. How am I acting?”

“You’re doing what you always do!” he yelled. “You’re acting like the Reid that fucks any guy that’s halfway decent to you. And then you run away before it can become anything more than a one night stand because you’re fucking terrified of having to stay and owning up to responsibility for the first time in your life. You just steamroll over everyone and everything, have your fun and then you’re gone. And you’ve always been like that. But this time you don’t get to just flit off to Mexico or Sweden or Croatia and send me a little gift basket and act like it never happened. This time you’re fucking with the people in my life, Reid, and it will have consequences. For once can you care about someone other than yourself and look at the situation and realize that what you do impacts me, too?”

The two of you stood, frozen, in the kitchen. The tension in the air was palpable. You could count on one hand the number of fights you and Bob had gotten into over the last nine years.

This was one of them.

Your eyes were locked on Bob’s blue ones. You watched as his face fell. As the realization of what he had just said washed over his familiar face.

“Sunny,” he murmured, stepping closer and you shook your head, backing away.

“No.” You whispered it, but there was venom laced in the word. “Don’t you dare try and take that back,” you added. “Because you can’t.”

“Honey, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it.”

You whipped around, practically jogging down the hall toward the stairs at the front of the house.

“Reid!”

You climbed the stairs, two at a time, and slammed the door to your room, locking it behind you, sliding down against the back of the door onto the ground in a heap.

You hated fighting with Bob. But this time, what you hated the most was that he was right.

Tag list: (or turn on notifications for my library @ereardonlibrary)

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#bob floyd fluff #bob floyd #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd x oc #bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd #robert floyd #top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick imagine #top gun x oc #hangman top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster top gun

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romaine2424 · 2 months

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For the Love of WIPs (Drarry style)

There's a lot of things I miss about LJ, but right up there was the weekly posting of the H/D Prophet run by @sassy-cissa and groovelover at the conclusion. It began posting in 2005 and It stopped posting in 2021. I know it was a ton of work for the mods to run it, but it truly kept Drarry fandom informed of all the one-shot fics, art released that week, and chapter updates for current Drarry WIPs, recs, etc... Also listed were the fests and what state they were in. Take a look at the links I posted above and see all the goodness. It was very centralized. *sigh happy times*

What made me think of this was I love reading Drarry WIPs but keep finding recent chapter fics that I missed while being posted and only found them completed and others that I'm currently reading but found by chance.

So, I thought I'd share the WIPs I'm keeping track of and those that have been completed recently that I've read.

Notes: Most WIPs (chapter fics) are long fics (over 50K and up to 1M). There are readers that see some lengths of completed fics and wince. That is one reason why chapters are often released weekly or whenever, so you have digestible amounts (5-15K). Sometimes as an author I feel in a Catch 22, readers don't have time to read long fics, but then won't read a WIP until completed. LOL

Below the cut are WIPs that I've read and that have been recently completed. I'll post ongoing WIPs that I'm reading tomorrow! I'm not listing the Warning and Tags for these fics as I'll leave that up for you to decide on what to read or not. But, there are a few here that do have strong warnings in the tags and/or Author Notes. One final note: I'm listing WIPs (chapter fics) that were posted over a time period, not completed chapter fics that were listed on one date as a whole. OMG this is a long post!

Recently completed Drarry WIPs

Passing Stranger (53K) by @lettersbyelise This just completed yesterday! I have 2 chapters left to read. :) Summary: Five years after the war, Harry, listless and depressed, stumbles upon Draco Malfoy playing the violin in an underground bar in Muggle London. The catch? Draco lost his memories five years ago. Ignoring his friends’ advice, Harry befriends an unwitting Draco, overlooking the fact that their mutual attraction might not survive if Draco’s memories return. Comment: Haven't quite finished but I love, love, the Draco in this fic. You could feel that this is Draco stripped of all the heavy responsibilities he grew up with including having a bigoted father. The tension is palpable with Harry being attracted to this Draco but feeling that Draco needs to be Draco Malfoy to move forward. *ugh*. 2. The Boy from the Piano Shop (90.5K) by @soliblomst completed 2/25/24. Summary: After going blind in a reckless attempt to avenge Ginny's death, Harry battles with severe depression. One day, he stumbles upon a quaint piano restoration shop in the heart of London and meets the owner, a kindly old man, and his introverted young apprentice, whose voice sounds strangely familiar. As Harry and Draco slowly reconnect through private piano lessons, the small workshop becomes Harry's refuge, offering him a glimmer of hope in a world without eyes. Set five years after the Battle of Hogwarts. Comment: I binged this fic bad!!! There is so much to love in this fic but one of the standouts is the OC Richard. You will love him, too. The gradual build up of Drarry is so well done. The dealing with Harry's depression is so raw and real. No cutting of corners. The ending was one of the best I've read in celebrating what is to come for Harry and Draco. And Draco, in the final scene will make you cry *happy tears*. 3. The Star Splitter (219K) by @oflights completed 3/22/24. Summary: On a routine time travel assignment to the past, Draco stumbles upon 7-year-old Harry Potter and witnesses his neglect and mistreatment by the Dursleys. In the moment, there is only one solution, even if it goes against all his training as a Time Agent: he has to bring Harry back to the future with him. In which Draco burns his life down for the sake of his former school rival. Comment: I think I followed this one from the start as I do everything @oflights! OMG the action, the tenseness, the magical lore, the worldbuilding, and the sweetness of Draco raising young Harry will have you banging that "next chapter" button. The Drarry in this happens slowly and has its ups and downs but so so worth the wait. The bond is strong and at the end and you will recognize and cheer for this Harry who says Fuck it all, I ain't letting this go.

4. Spotlight (All Eyes on Us) (58K) by @pixiedunhoff completed 3/15/24. This is the 5th and final installment of the Dark Arts to Dance Floor Series (317K) which began posting in July '23. Spotlight Summary: The spotlight can scorch.

“Has the wizarding world ever seen a couple quite like Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter? Though the pair remain frustratingly private and out of the spotlight, hardly ever seen in public together, our readers understandably demand to know more.

‘They’re happy together,’ Minister of Magic Hermione Granger exclusively tells the Prophet, before quickly ducking into a meeting for Squib Rights. ‘They’re so very happy.’”

- Daily Prophet, 2 February 2018 Comment: Pixie says in the notes, you may only need to read the 4th installment to completely get this fic, but hell, I say read them all. Pixie is newer to Drarry writing (longtime reader). I love the casualness and realness of the characters and how they interact. In Spotlight they so capture the feel of being backstage to a 'music rock star' (in the Muggle world) and on the rise in the magical one. As you're reading this fic, it might come across as being a lighter AU type fic, but don't be fooled there is much depth and layers upon layers to both Harry and Draco. Pixie just eases you into it. There were points that I just had to stop reading for a moment and digest exactly what was going on. Pixie will be on my Current WIP list, too! 5. Skybound (61K) by @xanthippe74 Summary: No matter how much Harry Potter wanted to believe he’d left danger behind when the war ended, it found him again anyway. All he had to do was step out his own front door on a Tuesday morning. A Drarry re-imagining of Howl’s Moving Castle.

Comment: I haven't finished this one, yet, but wanted to list it here. It's 6 chapters and I'm only 2 chapters in, but holy hell what world building and magical lore (and one very nasty curse). I'm not familiar with the original source, but that's okay. I'm very happy being carried along in one floating house! I'm a big fan of @xanthippe74 and am fully confident I'll love this as much as the author's other stories. Okay, I'll be back tomorrow with a list of currently posting Drarry WIPs, including two stinging hot A/B/Os, but in very different ways.

Enjoy!

Rom

#romaine2424 recs #drarry fic rec #drarry wips #so much drarry fic awesomeness #drarry wips completed

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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 1 year

Text

That Lovin' Feelin' (Part 3) - Goose

Pairing: Nick "Goose" Bradshaw / Mitchell! Fem! OC | Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Suggestive Language; Implied Sexual Content; Light Angst; Second Person ("You") POV, No Description of Reader No Use of Y/N

Reader is mentioned to be a woman, but there is no description of anything appearance wise. Reader is Maverick's twin sister and a nurse at the naval hospital.

This work, all of my other works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only.

Summary: You and Goose take your relationship to the next level. Maverick makes a discovery.

A.N. In this work, let's just imagine that Goose and Carole never crossed paths and Carole is off living her best life elsewhere. Absolutely no shade to Carole, just wanted some Goose love. And I guess sorry Bradley for wiping away your existence.

Part 1 Part 2

Master List

Sneaking around with your brother’s best friend was probably not recommended. Especially when Goose lived right next to Maverick in their Top Gun housing, so if Goose went out or came home late, Maverick could very easily know.

But Mitchells were not known for their great decision-making skills.

You thought that going to the volleyball game that both your brother Maverick and Goose were supposed to be playing in would be a good neutral option. You had a legitimate reason to be there, since your brother was there. And you also got to see Goose in less clothes than normal.

The relationship dynamic that you and Goose were developing every day was unlike any other relationship that you had ever been in. The awkwardness wasn’t from not knowing each other, but rather knowing each other too well. In a different context, that is. There wasn’t small talk, just immediate emotional connection.

But despite that, Goose still hadn’t made the final move.

You were worried that finding the condom during your drive-in date had somehow scared him off the subject. And sure, you weren’t exactly the most outgoing person and sex wasn’t the most important aspect of a romantic relationship to you.

But it was a little disheartening that Goose didn’t seem to want to rip your clothes off as much as you wanted to rip his off. So, there was a second reason to your decision to go to the volleyball game. First, to see Goose. And Maverick too, you guess. And second, maybe the sundress that you picked out was a little shorter and lower cut than you would have ordinarily worn out.

Maybe it was cruel to try and seduce Goose in front of an audience, including your brother, but you were running out of options. And time too, since Top Gun only lasted for so long. And you also knew that if you thought about it for too long, you might chicken out, so you quickly pulled on your sandals and headed out to the volleyball game.

Walking up from the street, you glanced around for Goose or Maverick. But you didn’t see either of them standing on the court. Confused, you looked up into the stands, and quickly spotted Goose sitting and chatting with Hollywood and Wolfman.

But you felt quite a couple of sets of eyes on you the instant that you stepped into the court area. Maybe the sundress was catching attention that you didn’t intend to catch. Goose called your name and waved, causing you to turn back to him and walk a little quicker than normal.

“Hey, you made it,” Goose stated, walking down the steps of the stands.

You didn’t miss how his hands naturally reached out for you before his brain caught up with his instincts and ironed his arms to his sides. But even if Goose didn’t reach out to her, there was a subtle hint in his stance that warned the other aviators to keep their gazes respectful.

“Not in time, it seems,” you replied, glancing over at the volleyball court. “Where’s Mav?”

“He had a thing.”

“A thing?” you repeated, confused.

“He didn’t elaborate.”

“Typical,” you scoffed, shaking your head. “Well, how did you do?”

“We won our game,” Goose explained, smiling proudly.

“Really? Congratulations.”

Before Goose could respond, however, two sets of clunky steps down the bleachers interrupted the moment. You and Goose turned to see Ice and Slider, who were both wearing looks that you could only describe as knowing smirks, standing a few steps up from you two.

“Ms. Mitchell,” Ice greeted you with a nod.

“Or should we call you Mrs. Goose?” Slider suggested, resting his arm on Ice’s shoulder.

“You can call me by my actual name,” you asserted, folding your arms over your chest.

“Oh, you’ve got to be easy on them, honey,” Goose replied smoothly, glancing with narrowed eyes between Ice and Slider. “They’re lashing out because their egos got bruised earlier.” Turning back to you, Goose gestured towards the beach. “You want to go for a walk instead?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you agreed with a small smile.

Bidding Ice and Slider goodbye, which in Goose’s case was more of a one-finger salute, you and Goose headed down to the adjacent beach. You held your sandals in your hand as you and Goose trudged through the warm sand, laughing and chatting like normal.

“Did you want—” you started to ask, before you were cut off by Goose’s lips on your own.

Dropping your bag and your sandals, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled him in closer for a deeper kiss. Goose’s hands traveled up and down the length of your dress and when he snuck a squeeze, you laughed and smacked his chest lightly.

“We’re in public,” you reminded him, as if you weren’t completely drunk off the kiss.

“Sorry, darling, I was just holding that back for a little too long,” Goose chuckled, pressing another kiss to your lips. “Wanted to make sure that we were out of their sight.”

“And into a lot of other people’s,” you quipped, noting the disapproving looks thrown in your direction. “Come on, let’s keep walking.”

You grabbed Goose’s hand and he quickly intertwined your fingers. Swaying your hands back and forth as you walked through the sand, your physical interactions with Goose moved farther and farther from being purely ‘friendly.’ Especially because the two of you couldn’t seem to go thirty seconds without some kind of kiss or nuzzle.

There was a reason why they called the first few weeks of a relationship the ‘honeymoon’ period.

Walking up to a little ice cream stand, the two of you got a small cone each before sitting down at one of the little wooden tables set up around the corner. You cursed as a drop of ice cream dripped onto your chest and dress as the hot sun melted the ice cream faster than you could eat it.

“Dammit,” you muttered, trying to gather the ice cream with your finger.

Wrapping your lips around your finger, you glanced up to see Goose staring intently at you. Almost like he wasn’t even breathing. Grinning a bit, you quirked an eyebrow at Goose’s reaction.

“What?”

“It’s like you’re trying to kill me, honey,” he told you, earning a light giggle from you.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, the whole . . . all of you,” Goose replied, gesturing to your whole body.

“Goose, that doesn’t narrow it down at all,” you teased him, dragging your foot up his leg.

“This!” Goose exclaimed, pointing down at your leg. “It’s like you want me to get in trouble out here. Because all of . . . you . . . you’re trying to get me to react.”

“Maybe I am,” you stated, shrugging your shoulders.

Licking at your ice cream cone in a way that was certainly not appropriate while you dragged your foot up higher on Goose’s leg, you shot him an amused smirk. A challenging look. Goose looked like he was having an internal crisis for a moment at your affirmative. But then he quickly grabbed your ankle and pulled it away from his inner thigh.

“Are you sure about this, darling?” he asked quieter, leaning forward more.

“Goose,” you called out to him, leaning forward as well, “take me to bed tonight or lose me forever.”

It wasn’t a real threat or even requirement. Your relationship was still young and there was still a lot that the two of you needed to figure out about that. But holy hell, you were running out of ways of trying to get your boyfriend to talk about taking that next step in your relationship.

“How about . . . twenty minutes?” Goose suggested instead, glancing down at his watch. “Depending on traffic, that is.”

“I think I can work with that,” you replied, hoping that you didn’t sound too desperate.

“Then show me the way home, honey,” Goose stated, shooting you a wink.

Grabbing Goose by the front of his shirt and dog tags, you urged him to his feet and out to the road, where your two cars were parked.

~~~~~

Goose was supposed to be smart.

He was a RIO. He wasn’t a hotshot fighter pilot, who flew on instinct and had an ego bigger than his cockpit. He was the brains of the operation. He was supposed to calculate the risks and know what the safest option always was in any situation.

Taking Maverick’s twin sister to bed had a thousand risks and there was no safe option. If the two of you went through with it, there would be no going back. If Maverick ever found out that the two of you slept together, his goose was cooked.

But hell between the sundress and the way that you dragged your foot up his leg and the way that you licked at your ice cream and your finger, there was no way that he would survive the battle in his brain over that. He was still an ordinary man, after all. He was almost a thousand percent sure that he was ass over teacups in love with you. And you were actively seducing him.

And, so, he took you to bed.

You unlocked the door to your house and pulled Goose inside. Once he stepped in, you quickly shut and locked the door. Tossing your keys into the bowl by your door, you barely had a moment to blink before Goose was on you again. And with the newfound privacy, there was nothing holding Goose back from absolutely ravaging you.

Pressing you up against the front door, Goose started to grind against your center, causing your grip on his shoulders to tighten. You hooked your leg around his waist and dragged him closer as your lips and tongues gnashed together. It was far from coordinated. More like two people who were pent up for far too long and just wanted to drown in each other’s presence.

Holding your leg steady to his hip, Goose lowered his arm underneath your ass and lifted you the rest of the way up. You hooked your ankles around Goose’s hips and cupped his cheeks with your hands, keeping his lips as close to yours as possible. You weren’t willing to let him go. Not even for a moment. You waited too damn long for this moment.

Goose walked down the hall, heading for your bedroom. Kicking the door closed behind him, Goose walked over to the bed and laid you down. Your touches were quickly growing more frantic and demanding, shedding each other’s clothing faster than either of you typically moved in these situations. But as you started to undo Goose’s pants, he pulled back.

“Are you sure about this, honey?” he asked again, wanting to be a thousand percent sure.

“Goosie,” you called to him, gently cupping his cheeks with your hands. “I want this. I want you. And sooner rather than later, if you don’t mind, Lieutenant.”

“I think I can manage that,” Goose agreed, pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips.

~~~~~

Breathing heavily, you grinned as you pressed a kiss to Goose’s neck. He held himself above your body, trying not to crush you, but similarly exhausted. Turning his head, he sent you a hazy smile and pressed a full and proper kiss to your lips. He pulled back a few moments later, studying your face.

“You finished, right?”

“Yeah, Goosie, I did,” you giggled, pressing a kiss to his lips. “And the mustache burn down there was definitely worth it.”

“Good,” Goose breathed out, nuzzling your hair. “God, why the hell did we wait so long to do that?”

“I don’t know,” you replied, running your hand through his hair. “But whatever reason it was, it’s a dumb one.”

Goose laughed and rolled over, pulling you into his arms. Laying on his back, Goose pulled you to his chest and wrapped his arms around your body, keeping you close. Letting out a giddy giggle as you still basked in the afterglow, you pressed another kiss to his lips.

“Do you have any plans for the rest of the night?” you asked, trailing your finger over his chest.

“Are you asking me out, honey?” Goose quipped, earning a joking look from you.

“If that’s what you want to call it, sure,” you replied, unable to help your smile. “We could get takeout or eat some left overs. Have a bottle of wine or a couple of beers. And maybe spend a little more time together here.”

“So long as you’re here, honey, I’ll do whatever you want,” Goose assured you, causing you to grow far more bashful than usual.

“You’re a sap, Nick Bradshaw.”

“I think you like it, honey.

Goose winked at you before pulling you in for another embrace.

~~~~~

Maverick returned to the volleyball court from Charlie’s house. Looking for Goose and perhaps you, since you mentioned that you might stop by, Maverick wandered over to the bleachers, where a handful of the other Top Gun students remained, including Slider and Ice.

“Where did Goose go?” Maverick called, causing Slider and Ice to share a look.

“He left with your sister,” Slider stated, earning a whistle or two from the other aviators. “They were looking really happy to see each other.”

Maverick rolled his eyes at Slider’s innuendo and didn’t let it bother him. After all, you and Goose had known each other for just about as long as Maverick and Goose had known each other. If there was anything going on between the two of you, it would have happened years ago. And Maverick trusted Goose far more than to give into stupid rumors from Slider of all people.

“Thanks for the heads up,” Maverick called back sarcastically, heading for his bike.

Driving through the streets of Miramar, Maverick headed first to Goose’s house, which was next to his own. But when Maverick didn’t see the Bronco sitting in the driveway, he decided to check your house. Maybe the two of you went out for dinner or maybe you offered Goose dinner. Humming to himself, Maverick pulled into your driveway.

The Bronco was parked out front, so Maverick strolled up to the front door. Reaching for the doorknob, he frowned when he found that it was locked. That was odd. Shaking his head and marking it off as a mistake, he reached for the spare keys that you hid on your front porch and unlocked the door. Letting himself inside, Maverick froze when he saw who was standing in the kitchen.

Goose. Shirtless Goose. Shirtless Goose in just his boxers.

“Goose?” Maverick called out, confused.

“Mav?” Goose called back, louder and far more concerned.

“What are you . . .”

Maverick trailed off when you emerged from your bedroom, wearing Goose’s shirt and with a head of hair that only got that particularly styled by one activity. And that activity was not one that Goose was supposed to be doing with Maverick’s sister of all people.

“GOOSE, YOU SON OF A BITCH!”

Tags:

@xoxabs88xox @roostette

#top gun fanfiction #top gun #nick bradshaw #nick goose bradshaw x reader #nick bradshaw x you #nick bradshaw x reader #nick goose bradshaw #goose x you #top gun goose #goose top gun #goose x reader #top gun 1986 #pete maverick mitchell #mitchell reader #nick goose bradshaw x you

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volpe-kitsune-red · 1 month

Text

A taste of you～

Part 2

Lynx Andromeda (Yandere OC) x reader

tw. general yandere behavior, possessive behavior, reader is a bit socially awkward, alcohol, vampires, blood-drinking, slightly suggestive content

Someone in your college had organized a huge party and invited every student to join; you didn't know the guy but Lynx did. Your best friend knew practically more than half of the people who attended the school and reassured you that the man had a huge mansion and a pool in his backyard, meaning it wouldn't feel too crowded even if everyone showed up. But that wasn't your concern, this was going to be the biggest party you had been to and the fullest of strangers. You weren't exactly scared of people but not a social butterfly either so you couldn't help but feel nervous about how the night was gonna go. "Nervous? Oh come on love, I'll be right by your side the whooole time. If you feel overwhelmed I'll just make an excuse to take you away...somewhere private hehe～" You were used to her teasing and yet it still made a slight blush tint your cheeks. Of course, she was just joking, however, the way her eyes pierced into yours every time she said things like that was making you question her true intentions...and your feelings for her.

Lynx had insisted on wearing matching outfits, and you both decided (after a long debate) on black colors paired with something made of red leather. When she came to pick you up you saw that she had put on a black top with a short red leather skirt, she looked amazing and you were quick to let her know. "And you are outrageously stunning, I might have to keep a closer eye on you tonight or someone might steal you away from me～" You laughed in response "Aww stop it, you're making it sound like we're together or something!" "Hmm..not yet..." The rest of the ride was filled with you two casually catching up on what you did that day, she always avoided talking about her life at home so she resorted to telling you about a fun music series she found called 'Alien Stage', excitedly forcing you to listen to some of the songs.

You arrived an hour late to the party. It was already packed with people, not as many as you expected, but the night was still young so many others were yet to show up. You and Lynx began looking for your friends. It was hard to move more than 5 steps at a time, not because there was no space to do so, but because people kept approaching your friend to start some small talk or invite her to join them in whatever activity they were doing. Finally, you spotted the group of your mutual friends and joined them. Everything was going better than expected, you were having fun, and Lynx helped you shake off a couple of drunk men who were making you feel uncomfortable.

At some point in the night, one of your friends asked you if you could go grab him a cup of water. Poor guy had drunk a couple of shots too much so you told him to sit down as you left the group. Lynx was having fun at a karaoke battle with some random woman so you decided not to bother her by asking her to accompany you. You wouldn't want to ruin her night just because you needed some assistance to feel secure at a party. You went up to the bar and asked the man behind it, who was presumably the butler of the house but was doubling as a barista for the night if he could give you a cup of water. When the man turned around to take a cup and fill it, someone tapped you on the shoulder. You turned around and the woman behind you smiled. "Hi there sugar... my eyes have been wandering towards you the whole night, I have been waiting for the best moment to approach such a cutie, mind blessing me with a little company?" She gently took your hand and you were too stunned to react as she pressed her lips on the back of your palm. You blushed, a bit embarrassed by her boldness. She was undeniably a gorgeous woman, tall, with tan skin, white hair, and a cleanly styled wolf cut...but you had to go back to your friend. "I'm flattered, really. But I need to go back to my friend, he's not feeling well so I was supposed to bring him a cup of water." The woman appeared amused. "You're talking about Ron, right? He's fine, he's also a friend of mine, I asked him if he could do me a favor by securing me a minute alone with you." You thought Ron was such a traitor for selling you off to a stranger, just like that, without a warning even. But you would confront your friend and his behavior another time. Maybe it was the alcohol or the fact that it's been years since your last romantic interaction, but you had decided to give this random woman a shot. She was hot and had gone through all that trouble just to approach you, so why not, right?

You two sat on the bar stools and started chatting, she wasn't too bad, she was charming and a great listener. At one point she put a hand on your tight and leaned closer to you. You weren't sure if she was about to kiss you or whisper something in your ear, and you would never find out because before she could do anything a person forced themselves between you two, forcing her to retreat and put her hand away. It was Lynx, you couldn't see her face because she had her back turned toward you, and as soon as she turned around, her expression was blank. "Love, please come with me, immediately. I have something to tell you." You looked at her confused but she was serious, so you nodded, stood up, and tried to excuse yourself to your new acquaintance but Lynx interlocked her arm with yours and started pulling you away with her. Concerned and irritated by whatever was going on, you followed her silently into a quiet, empty room of the mansion and closed the door behind you. "Lynx can you explain what is going-" You weren't given the chance to finish the sentence as Lynx gently but swiftly pressed you against the wall, wrapped her arms around your waist, and smashed her lips against yours. You were shocked, incredibly confused...and her lips were soft, and her body was pressed against yours, making your mind and body feel fuzzy.

Her kiss lasted a couple of seconds, maybe three before her lips parted with yours. "I can't believe it, I take my eye off of you and you go wandering off to someone else, maybe I should put a leash on you so this won't happen again." What the hell was she saying? "L-Lynx, you're my best friend, we aren't a couple or anything... I asked you to look out for me tonight to help me out in case something was going wrong, that doesn't mean you can just tear me away from anyone I'm talking to without checking to see what's really going on! That woman wasn't-" "Do not mention her, she doesn't deserve to be on your mind, let alone your body. I saw how she was touching you, she wanted to steal you away- away from ME!" Her dark pupils started to swirl into a glowing red color, it was clear she was struggling to keep her voice steady. When she noticed the fearful stare you were giving her, the red disappeared and her features visibly relaxed. She raised one of her hands to put it on your cheek, her sweet tone masking her true emotions. "It's ok darling, I'll make sure something like this will never happen again. You know that I love you right? That I would never harm you?" You felt that your answer wasn't really needed but you replied either way, putting your hand on hers. "Yes Lynx, I know you love me. We've known each other since we were little kids and you've never done anything that hurt me. But what does this all mean? Y-you...uh, kissed me just now, are you trying to tell me something?" Her gaze softened. "My love, you are just too cute, it's just so hard to resist eating you up right away..." She buried her head in the crook of your neck. "...to sink my teeth into you and taste you." At this point, you were as red as a tomato. Did she just confess her feelings to you? If she did, that was definitely a weird way to word it. But then you felt something sharp poke at your neck. You look down to see your best friend's open mouth hovering over your skin. Two long sharp teeth sticking out, threatening to pierce into you at any moment. "...Lynx. What is this...what are you doing?" Her arm wrapped itself tighter around your waist while the hand on your cheek moved around the back of your head to steadily hold it in place. "I'm sorry dear but you left me with no choice...and you are just so irresistible." Your whole body stiffened at the realization of what was about to happen, you tried to wriggle away but it was too late. A sharp pain shot into your neck, blood started pouring out and you refused to watch as she proceeded to suck and drink it all.

You screamed but the party outside the door was too loud to hear you, your shouts of pain and your pleads were lost amongst the laughter and singing of the people outside. Eventually, you felt yourself going weak, and your vision faded to black.

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taegularities · 10 months

Note

a brief drabble of jk seeing oc in the exhibition or what he thinks when she did not stay the night :( from his pov please

fic: colour me in

pairing: jungkook x reader warnings: overthinking, heartbreak, hope, simping lol, lovesickness, a bit of nervousness, implied tears, soft sweet koo, a cmi9 spoiler :') wc: 1.5k LOL a/n: tysm for the request, i know one or two people wanted that one, so that was a great opportunity to explore koo's mind :') this is unedited, i apologise!! might come back to edit it later. anyways, love you, i hope you like it, lmk what you think mwah!! <3

ask my characters/request a (brief) drabble <3

–

The second day of the showcase and it's already ending again.

And once again, you're nowhere to be seen. It sucks.

He wishes he could calm that raging storm in his stomach; that stressful feeling, mixed with hope you might show up eventually.

But as he glances around, all he sees is a crowd of visitors and fellow artists. They look so happy; the smiles might etch themselves onto their faces forever once this is all over.

From afar, Jungkook waves towards them, faking a brave face. It's annoying how his eyes keep wandering to the entrance of the room, manifesting a glimpse of you.

New guests make his heart skip a beat, and it keeps sinking when it's not you.

That is, until it is.

Some of the people chatting with him finish their inquiries. He sends them off with a nod, following their steps for a moment. Only for his gaze to drift through the room again. And then–

The odd emptiness morphs into gut-wrenching breathlessness. He sucks in a breath when you stand among the dozen faces, looking around.

And you're not a haunting illusion this time. The way you shift your weight to the other leg, heaving your chest in the same nervousness, eyebrows slightly furrowed as you seek him out – no matter how much he's memorised you, he can't make up these tiny details.

You're here.

And now you're looking at him. Directly. Blinking.

As you approach him, time starts moving slower. Thoughts of whatever you shared. Hope for tonight to proceed well. Fear of what you might think of his artistic accomplishments.

He doesn't dare to blink. Doesn't even flinch when you say, "Hi."

He responds, "You came."

"I… almost didn't."

"…I'm glad you did."

Your words are piercing, and his heart in tiny pieces. They pound to a certain, rapid beat, like water drops on drums.

But he doesn't show any of the weakness he feels when you keep talking. Or when you detect his paintings. The speechlessness and the tender gratitude, the pain in your eyes when you understand what he's created.

The moments pass and the uncertainty between the two of you grows, but Jungkook doesn't want this night to end. And when you eventually suggest to take him home, he feels a strange combination of anxiety and relief.

Unfathomable.

–

Small spaces usually didn't bother either of you, because they were the temptation that closed the gap between your bodies.

Like, when he was trapped under the sheets with you, magnetically drawn to you. Arms around you like a safe swim ring, and your breathing against his chest.

Tonight is a little different.

The urge to make you stop the car and to reach to the driver's seat is overwhelming. So he focuses his attention on the outside. Listens as you converse with him.

He appreciates the care, but he'd rather skip to the inevitable talk than to speak about his lack of a transportation vehicle.

The wait toys with him. The tension is palpable. It won't fade; only increases when you finally dive into your emotions. Asking about the showcase and the pain.

Grows and grows when you halt near his place, getting out of the car when you shouldn't need to.

Because aren't you leaving in a moment?

No.

Instead, you pull out a silver object, wrapped neatly. He knows what it might be, and somehow, it already hurts. The intention behind it… that's what aches.

Though the uneasy yearning doesn't end when he opens it, setting eyes on an apparent notebook and his name written in the middle of it, golden and elegant.

Inside, he finds a message

To fill these pages with every curve and contour you desire, and to colour them in. Like you do with me. Happy Birthday, Kookie.

The goddamn hurt won't stop. His breath hitches. He rereads the words, mouths them, relaxing his muscles and slowing down his heartbeat.

It's not working. And his eyes are watering. God, he doesn't think he's ever seen a soul filled with such tenderness before. A heart of cloudy texture; breaking apart every now and then, but soft and light and dreamy and so incredibly vulnerable.

You're looking at him like you're holding yourself together. And he figures he must be mirroring that very expression.

"So… You like it?" you ask.

Does he like it? The fact that you combined his dreams and the affection you hold into one small object? Your feelings for each other aren't materialistic, but if they were, he'd stuff them all into these pages.

He answers, "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

“I’m glad. Happy Birthday, Kook.”

Can he let you go again? He doesn't know. Or he does. But he fears your answer. But he still needs to try, right?

And he does. With all his courage, he does.

When he finds himself close to your body a minute later. Face in his grip, apologies on his tongue, hurt in your pupils – lit by the streetlights.

"I crave your comfort," you tell him. Your words are overwhelming. "I hate that I've grown to crave you."

If you knew. If you knew about the sleepless nights and the damp cheeks. The curled up body, tucked in blankets and the summer's heat, but still cold without you next to him.

If you knew. He should tell you.

"What do I do to make it right?" he asks.

But what you answer breaks his heart anew.

"You open up. You tell me how you feel. What you feel." Your chin is quivering; he wants to hold it, wants to calm your sorrows. "You stop keeping secrets from me and tell me what's wrong."

"I have never opened up with anyone as much as with you."

And he means it. All you know are pieces of him; the most hidden one only ever got out to witnesses or when things became unbearable. Like with Nara. Or Tae.

His fingers rest on your cheek, and you wonder, "Why have you never before? To anyone else?"

He's scared. God, he's scared you'd leave him. This is ridiculous. His worries and his faults and all the mistakes he's made. So damn ridiculous.

Shouldn't be keeping you away from him.

"Can you tell me?" you question again. He wishes you didn't – because he wants you to know, but it's not fucking coming out…

And he can't keep hurting you.

"I can't," he admits.

"Why not?"

"Because it hurts."

It always will, won't it?

And maybe he could endure it if it didn't drag you down in the process. Because he sees as your face falls, frustration spreading across it as you start giving up.

He sees that you're waving the white flag, even when he begs for you to stay, to endure this until he can open up. He sees your desperation when you don't answer and he finally walks away and he hates it.

Head fallen and intense dejection expanding in his chest, slow steps carry him across the street. Tonight will be filled with more hours without solace.

But then he hears your voice again.

"That night at the frat party… last year," you start. He halts in his steps, moving to face you. "We were dumb to treat it like nothing. You kissed me back then, too. You kissed me like you didn't want me to leave."

He blinks at you. The frat party.

Maybe he didn't just kiss you like he didn't want you to leave. Maybe it'd feel the same if he kissed you now, too.

And he fucking wants to. He wants the distance gone. Craves that same warmth, enveloped in you, breath against breath, lips against lips.

He doesn't know what to answer. The hundred thoughts confuse him. But among those, one of them is the most prominent, in bold and capitalised letters, surfacing in high speed.

And perhaps he should hold onto it; so he wraps a mental rope around it, pulling it close and whispers, "Angel…"

Steps back to you, closer until you're barely breathing, "Stay the night."

–

It's okay, he thinks.

That he expected so much. That he thought you'd agree. That he painted a picture of you stepping in here again, sitting on the same couch, crying the same tears as him until you fell into his arms.

But none of it will happen tonight, will it? You won't come back. He saw you driving away…

It's okay.

You're right. You probably need time to think; his attack on you was sudden. The change in mind and the pleas to stay. Only half of him thought you would, really – so it's alright.

But that doesn't mean that his chest won't heave once he closes the door and enters the empty apartment. Or that he won't shower with a certain numbness in his heart, trudging to the bed with a bitter ache in his body.

It doesn't mean that, despite the sliver of hope, he won't yearn and pine and crave and long until his eyes are rimmed red, worse than before.

–

okay :') if you happen to read this, come and let me know what you think, i'd appreciate it super much!! bc lol holy that took like 2h? and i am sad. thank you for the request, love. hope it was alright 🥺<3

#*amc #*amc: cmi #notes for rid 🌹#anon #fic: colour me in #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff

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