#belle: deep freeze

[graphicpolicy]

Preview: Belle: Deep Freeze

Belle: Deep Freeze preview. Will Anabelle DiMarco be able to ride this blizzard out, or will she succumb to the icy grip of death? #comics #comicbooks

[hairmetal666]

No one knows who writes the Hawkins High Tattler. It comes out every week, without fail, has for almost two decades. Everyone reads it, even teachers, even parents. It's caused more the one suspension, grounding, and even--famously--a shipping off to boarding school.

Steve's never let the Tattler get to him much. He's in it, of course, practically a new story every week. But it's just silly gossip.

Of course, Steve is also, currently, the titular Tattler, so. It's not like he's surprised when his name shows up.

It's his third year, his last year, and he knows everything that ever goes on at Hawkins High. It's pretty easy, honestly. Everyone thinks he's ditzy and vapid; nothing more than hairspray and polos. People will say anything around him, assuming he's not listening or not interested, and then bam. It's in next week's Tattler. No one even suspects him.

The confessions locker probably helps. Down by the theater, busted and unusable, the perfect place for people to leave tips, to tattle on their friends (or enemies, as the case may be).

That's what he's doing right now, checking the confessions locker. After 9:30 on a Friday night, the place silent as the tomb, perfect time for it. Pretty standard fare this week. The only thing of interest is that Eddie Munson was the person who broke all Ms. Click's pencils and left the stubs on her desk. This one, he laughs at, can't wait to publish it; can't wait to talk to Munson about it.

He gets a lot of stuff about Eddie. Most of it he doesn't publish because it's bullshit about satanic rituals--the nerdy kids he babysits play dnd, and there's no way Karen Wheeler is letting anything satanic happen in her basement--or about his sexuality, and one thing Steve doesn't do is out people.

Gathering up this week's submissions, he closes the locker with a soft clink, and he swears, swears he hears the squeak of a tennis shoe on the polished tile of the floor. He freezes, heart in his throat. Nobody has been here this late before.

Seconds pass but there's only silence. Confident he's only hearing things, he heads out, the parking lot just as empty as when he arrived.

---

He sees Eddie a few days later, when he's picking up the kids from the arcade. They typically exchange casual greetings, but as Steve waits, Eddie stands with him, offers him a cigarette.

"Read that was you who messed with Click's pencils. Good one."

Eddie shrugs, gives a little bow and a smile. "Happy to be of service."

"It was my class, when she found them. Never seen her so mad."

"No way," Eddie laughs. "Not even when Hagan drew dicks on all the textbooks?"

"Not even then, man. She was throwing pencil stubs everywhere."

"Fuck, sad I missed it." Eddie takes a drag, Steve's eyes following the movement, lingering on his mouth. Something warm and tingling builds at the base of his spine and he forces his gaze away.

"How long you in detention for?"

"I'm not. Swore it wasn't me, and Click doesn't want to admit she reads the Tattler, so. Not much they could do. "

"I've seen it sitting on her desk!"

"I know! She reads it when she has detention duty!"

They lean against Steve's car, laughing, and Steve feels good. This is good. He likes Eddie. He's funny and dramatic and smart and kind. He's not deserving of any of the mean things that get submitted to the Tattler.

The kids come streaming into the parking lot then, and Eddie stubs out his cigarette, says "see you around, Harrington," and Steve finds himself flushing for reasons he can't quite explain.

---

He starts seeing Eddie around way more. He's in school most days, smoking in the parking lot after the last bell, chatting with Steve in the hallways.

It shows up in the Tattler; big news that the King and the Freak are hanging out. Most of the submissions are about it, increasingly elaborate rumors about their supposedly deep, close friendship.

He wishes he could tell Eddie.

Eventually, Eddie invites him to smoke at the quarry. He doesn't hesitate to say yes, doesn't even bother to try ignoring the swoop in his stomach, the speed of his heart.

They sprawl out in the back of the van, Eddie's loud, raucous music pounding around them, sharing a joint back and forth.

Steve gets hazy, boneless, can't stop watching Eddie, the way his lips purse around the joint, his long hair glinting gold in the weak light of the camping lanterns, the pleased shine of his eyes every time he makes Steve laughs.

He likes Eddie so much. Everything about him, honestly. Butterflies ping in his stomach, happy and slow, and he thinks how nice Eddie's lips are, wonders how soft they must be. And he thinks--he's read the submissions, right--he knows the things they say about Eddie, and he wishes it was true, he wants--he wants--

He wants

---

Steve's running late to check the locker. Lost track of time at the diner with Eddie, and it's making him panic.

He stuffs the submissions haphazardly into the pocket of his hoodie, dancing with nerves, willing himself to grab them all and get out.

Locker emptied, he sprints towards the exit. He has a second to process someone barreling towards him in the dark, but he's going too fast to stop, can only brace himself as they collide.

It sends him sliding across the floor, Tattler submissions spilling out of his pocket like snow. He hits the ground, scrabbling for the papers, praying that whoever is here with him can't see them in the low light.

Hands grips his biceps. "Stevie, Steve, we have to get out of here" and there's a second where he's comforted by the familiar rasp of Eddie's voice before terror spikes again.

He pulls himself from Eddie's grasp, searching for any dropped submissions in easy reach. "Wha--why--what's--"

"I ran into Jason Carver and his band of idiots at the gas station. They're on their way to here to try to catch the Tattler in action."

Steve freezes. "I don't--that's not--I--"

In the deep silence of the empty school, they both hear the slamming of a door, a bitten off giggle. Eddie grabs his wrist and they run. Into the theater room, through a door Steve didn't know existed, to the backstage area of the auditorium.

"You should be safe here," Eddie says.

Panic spirals through him. "I can explain. I was just--I forgot a--I needed--"

"Harrington! I know, okay? I already know."

Steve can only blink at him, swallows rough in his throat. "What--Eddie, I--"

"I saw you. Weeks ago. Forgot my notebook in the theater room after Hellfire and had to run back for it. You were there, at the locker."

"You can't tell anyone."

"I'm not going to."

"No, Munson, you really can't. Nobody can know. Nobody--"

"Swe--Stevie, I promise. The secret's safe with me." He rocks back on his heels, chewing on his lip for a second before he continues. " I--I couldn't figure you out, you know? I saw you around with those kids and it didn't make any sense. King Steve, babysitting tiny nerds? But I saw you at the locker and..."

"You're giving me too much credit, man."

"I don't think so. You're never--fuck, Harrington--you're never mean. At least, not in the last couple years. You spread gossip, but you don't punch down, and you're funny as hell. Mean as shit too, but only to the people who deserve it."

His ears burn and he looks down. "Just because I have fucking--fucking editorial standards doesn't mean that I'm anything special."

Eddie scoffs. "Remember, Stevie, I was reading it a year before you were here. Cruel, vapid garbage. Always the most vile, pointless stories about people who couldn't defend themselves. And how many submissions have you gotten about me, for instance, that you've never used?"

Steve clenches his fists. "I would never--"

"I know. Sweetheart, I know. That's why I li--You're so fucking good, Stevie."

He laughs, ears burning. "I'm really not, Eddie. I try to write about fun gossip that can't hurt anyone too much, and nobody's found me out because they think I'm too dumb--"

Eddie reaches out then, fingers connecting softly with the edge of Steve's jaw. He can't help but lean into the touch, eyes flickering closed.

"You don't want to hurt people because you're fucking kind. You know how I know for sure? You must get submissions every week about me, and you've never once printed that I'm--" Eddie stops then, swallowing hard.

Steve's throat goes tight. He rests his hand over Eddie's, still holding his face. "Me too," he whispers. "Kind of. I like--it's both. For me."

"Oh," Eddie breathes, mouth lifting in a bright, beautiful smile that Steve can't help but return.

He's watching, sees when Eddie's gaze drifts his lips, making his breath hitch. He doesn't really think about closing the distance between them, slotting their mouths together in a tentative, gentle kiss.

"You're just full of surprises aren't you, Steve Harrington? Eddie asks when they part.

Steve blushes. "That's sort of the last of them."

"Sure. Next you'll be telling me you've played dnd."

"I have a character."

"What???"

"Human paladin. Dustin worked on it with me. Ready to get out of here?"

"Human paladin," Eddie gapes. "You know--you said--what's happening?"

Steve twines their fingers together, leading Eddie towards the auditorium exit. "Well, first we're going to walk out to my car and then we're going to my house, and we're going to look through Tattler submissions. Maybe makeout a little bit."

Eddie giggles. "What the fuck? Like. What the fuck, sweetheart?"

He turns to face Eddie, smile big and pure and bright with happiness. "If you're really nice to me, I'll let you help write this week's issue."

"Oh, oh. You're going to wreck me." Eddie mumbles, almost to himself.

"If you're lucky." Steve beams.

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Yokai Harem x Reader (I)

This is probably my longest running dysfunctional daydream scenario, so I thought I'd share it here.

As stereotypical as it gets, you've fallen into an old well and found yourself in feudal Japan. Almost immediately, you're attacked by a yokai that calls you by a name you don't recognize. He insists you possess the soul of an ancient priest that would capture demons under a binding contract. Something isn't right, however, so your life is spared until further clues come to light. With two men unwillingly bound to you, you begin to uncover this mess as more 'collection pieces' show up. They might prefer you to their previous owner.

TW: violence, monsters

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Character Guidebook]

You vigorously cough out whatever grass you seemed to have bit into when you hit the ground. Was all this vegetation here just one moment ago? As you get up and dust your knees you're brought back into focus by the loud buzzing of insects. You look above and involuntarily squint your eyes. You didn't expect to see a full, bright sky.

"What the hell?" is all you can mutter.

You and your university friends had planned a quick trip to the neighboring Tokyo, just to visit some trending local cafes and shop around. You somehow wandered into the suburbs and found a very obvious path to a large shrine that was visible from the bottom of the stairs. Now, what's more stereotypical than finding a shrine, approaching it with shy steps, dangling the old rope of the bell and humbly clapping your hands together for a quick prayer that gives you a fake sense of meaningfulness? Then again, you love a good cliché. So you did just that, and then whipped out your phone to snap some artsy photos of the place. In your search for the perfect angle, you spotted a wooden structure among some pillars and zoomed in to realize it's an old well.

Here's where you awkwardly tiptoed away from your friends. You couldn't possibly confess to them that you're one of those anime nerds, and that you immediately thought of a certain classic title, and that this could make a very good impromptu cosplay shoot. You could smell the nostalgia as you carefully swayed your way behind the pillars and under the shade of the tiled roof. You bent over carefully (apparently not carefully enough) to asses how deep the well was. Just as you were about to exclaim its shallowness, you felt the gravity pull you inwards. Within seconds your head made contact with the moist soil and you briefly blacked out as the rest of your body arrived in proper position.

Unpleasant, but you've had migraines worse than this. Though now you're wondering whether you might've damaged some important brain parts, given the sudden change of scenery. Or has your dysfunctional daydreaming finally caught up to you?

You laugh silently and test the walls around you, feeling for some contact point that you can use to pull yourself back out. You finally crawl out, but freeze with your elbows around the frame of the well, looking ahead.

There's no building around, just tall grass and what seems to be the beginning of a forest. You remember to blink, and each time you close your eyes you hope to see the shrine once again, to no avail.

"I thought I'm past the risk age for schizophrenia", you mumble in a humorous attempt. The situation is so absurd that you need to share it with an imaginary audience.

You muster up the courage to step out and onto the ground, with extra caution as if it could vanish at any moment. After brief consideration, you slap a bunch of weeds in front of you to test their consistency. The hard stems hurt your wrist and you nod. This is a little too intense to be just a hallucination.

Alright, so you got trapped in some sort of feudal anime remake. What now? You glance around, almost hoping to see some white haired man sleeping against a tree with an arrow stuck into the chest. You check your phone. No signal, but thankfully it still works. You have a battery and its charger, but the latter is probably useless. Unless this remake comes with electricity. You chuckle at the thought. Who knows, maybe it's one of those isekai otome games instead and some timeline inconsistency or loophole will provide you with an outlet.

After trying the well one last time without success, you decide to at least find another human being. Then you can get some grasp of your whereabouts and situation. You notice a patch of grass that's been bent to the ground, probably from frequent stomping. That's a start. You follow the hints of bipedal movement and hope for the best.

The improvised path slithers downhill and around the mass of trees, and you question whether the fields ahead might have traces of houses on them. You pick up your pace in anticipation.

A sharp swish of an unknown object causes you to flinch and halt, and before you can process it, a thin blade lays inches from your nose. You follow its length and find the source: a tall, horned (???) man with silver hair.

Ironically enough, he seems to be more shocked than you. His facial expression flips from focused anger to unbelievable confusion within seconds. His eyebrows are raised and his lips part.

"Ah!" you yell as the gears begin to turn. "Christ, you almost made me question my sanity!

Now let me tell you, this is some great cosplay. I was about to beg for my life. Hah! How the hell did you pull the whole transition? Is the well a tunnel? I hope I didn't accidentally break into some event."

The man returns his sword into its sheath, still in deep disbelief.

"You're not him, are you? But then again..."

"Huh? Him? I'm sorry, were you expecting someone? If you show me the way out I'll disappear in a moment." you turn around, prepared to be led to the exit. "Who're you cosplaying, anyways? I'm a big fan of historical dramas, but I don't recognize the character design."

"I don't understand what you're saying." the man tilts his head in utter surprise.

"Alright, I get the point" you force a laugh, slightly irritated by the persistence. "You're deep in your acting, I get that. Focus and all the jazz. But my friends are around the corner and I don't have signal, can you please skip the theatre and show me the exit?"

"The exit to...where? You're outside."

You sigh, loudly, and click your tongue. "Enough of this, please. Where's the shrine?"

"Ah, I get it. You're trying to confuse me." he pulls his sword back out. "I've had enough of your tricks. You're in an early stage, aren't you? Not strong enough to fight back. I can sense it."

Oh God, it's one of those maniacs, you think to yourself. You raise your arms as a peace offering and hope you won't be featured in the 5pm news with multiple stab wounds.

"Listen man, I really don't know what you're talking about. I'll leave quietly and won't bother you again, I promise."

You gulp and await a response, but the man's mouth opens and the words are replaced by a foreign, disembodied shriek. There's a rapidly approaching heavy shuffle that sounds like the trample of many limbs. You feel your leg being hooked into something and the ground turns around at a dizzying speed.

Something just grabbed you.

Given the movements of the lips, you're assuming that the mysterious cosplaying maniac is yelling something, but your ears are ringing and throbbing as the adrenalin begins to pump. You're being thrown around by something and you can feel the skin holding your leg together creaking and tearing with every jolt.

You manage to land your eyes on the creature. The teeth are unnaturally sharp and it seems to have many arms and legs arranged in a scattered order along the scaly body. It trashes around in such a fluid, dynamic way, that you doubt it could be the result of any machine. It's a living thing and currently attacking you for whatever reason.

Once the bizarre reality settles in, panic floods your body and you scream for help. If not the maniac, then some godly intervention. You did offer a small donation at the shrine, it has to count for something.

The spectacle doesn't last long, since the silver haired man doesn't hesitate to behead the creature. You can see that he wasn't making empty threats with his sword skills. You'd prefer, however, if you weren't the next one to go under his guillotine. Your body rolls over the dirt, limp from the shock.

You tilt yourself upwards pathetically and let out a groan once you attempt to use your leg to stand. You turn around and notice the aftermath of your little air ballet. There's a deep wound and thick, red blood is oozing out, scrambling to form a protective crust.

"You... really can't fight at all, can you? You weren't lying."

The man is now standing in front of you, the same amount of disbelief he had at the beginning.

"How the hell would I have fought that...that..." you choke and can feel tears forming in your eyes. "I don't understand what's happening. I just want to go back home. I don't know what's happening." you start sobbing and angrily rub your eyes, hoping to trigger some sort of way to wake up. But your eyelids burn and you feel awake. This was never a dream.

Your sudden meltdown startles the man and he awkwardly hovers his hands over you, unsure of how to handle this.

"Sorry, if I had known, I would've stopped it earlier. I genuinely thought you're..." he sighs. "I'm really sorry. You got hurt because of me."

"Can you please tell me where I am? I feel like I'm going crazy. It's year 202X and I was out with my friends and fell into a well. I've never seen a creature like that in my life. I somehow ended up here and I can't go back. Where the hell is this?"

"I... I don't understand what's happening either. I came here because I sensed he's back. I didn't expect to see... well... you." 

You scan his face. His frown is sincere. Which, truth be told, is even less helpful. You're back to square 0, it's getting dark and your ankle is trashed. 

You just want to sleep.

You stare at the ceiling, hands locked together over your chest. The improvised hay mattress isn't exactly comfortable, but it's certainly better than nothing. You sheepishly glance at the horned man. He's sitting by the window, idly looking outside with hooded eyes. He seems to be tired, too. 

"Try to get some rest", he'd told you earlier. Easier said than done. After the monster attack, he carried you on his back until you found an abandoned hut. His way of apologizing for letting you get mauled. As you walked, he narrated his reasoning to you. 

His name is Kiritsubo. When he was a child, a human dressed like an onmyouji took him in for training. Said to be the successor of Abe no Seimei himself, the man was feared throughout the country for his supernatural powers. Most of his strength, however, came from the collection of yokai he'd gathered to work for him. None of them had agreed to it, but no one knew how to break the bond subduing them. Eventually, the old man succumbed into his eternal slumber, yet the yokai were still not freed from the contract.

Some of them suggested he wasn't truly gone. Merely reincarnated. And today, he felt it for the first time. That's how he stumbled upon you. You appear to have part of his soul within you, whether you realize it or not. But if you truly have no knowledge of it, he doesn't have the heart to slaughter an innocent. 

"What about the rest?" you blurt out, quietly.

Kiritsubo turns to you, mildly startled.

"What do you mean?"

"You said the man owned 12 legendary yokai. Are you the only one left?"

"No." He frowns. "They most likely know about you already. Let's try to send you back to your world tomorrow, because they will not be as forgiving."

A shiver runs across your spine. This one is scary enough already. You pray you'll be home before you can meet any other beast.

"This is where I found you, so the well shouldn't be far." 

The silver haired man surveys the horizon and you limp forward. 

"I'll check the area, since you can't walk much."

As soon as he says that, he vanishes. You're left with the heavy buzz of afternoon cicadas. You might as well do your own search. Keep yourself preoccupied. The idea of leaving this behind fills you with excitement and you find enough strength to push ahead. 

A few minutes later, you hear a shuffle behind you. Could it be that Kiritsubo already found the well? Enthusiasm fills your chest and a burning heat spreads out. Although it speedily pools in your left shoulder, and you notice in horror that it wasn't enthusiasm taking over your body. A blade is sticking out of your shoulder, avoiding anything vital as some sort of mockery rather than omission. 

"Found you."

The voice is deep and foreign. You barely manage to tilt your head and meet the glowing red eyes of a black haired man. Dark horns are twisting menacingly from his crown and his expression is that of pure wrath. As fresh blood drips down your chin, you wonder if this is the next yokai in line to seek his revenge.

How will you get out of this?

[kombuuuu]

hii i really enjoyed ur miles 42 fic, was wondering if u could write something about reader and miles meeting for the first time? who was interested first🤭?

For the Soul (and the Heart)

Miles!42 x Fem!Reader

“I’ll be here. So pretty fun, i’d say”. “Guess you’re right, Chiquita.”

AHHH meet cute x simpy miles we LOVE

Miles getting comfy w reader and reader getting progressively more combative the more time they spend together bc they luvvvvvvv each other? perfection

please don’t read if you get uncomfy with suggestive content, nothing too bad but still suggestive!

The morning was still. An odd occurrence for a Saturday. The winter chill had settled the night prior and seeped into ever cracked windowsill.

Streets coating in a thin layer of snow and trees dusted with the same. And acknowledging this freezing weather, obviously you decided to go for a walk. Snow crunched under your feet as you followed street signs, the only thing telling you where you were going was which street looked prettier.

Eventually you stopped, hugging your scarf closer to your nose and looking for a stall or shop that caught your eye.

Eventually it did, a quaint cafe stationed between two clothing stores, relatively small and pretty empty. The outside was decorated with white Lilly-of-the-Valley flowers, flower beds filled with the pretty things. Contrasting to the deep Mahogany of the wooden shop. Which looking into the wide window, seemed relatively the same. Deep furniture with white accents and a soft yellow light dancing along shiny hardwood floors.

Swirling cursive words cut into the wooden headboard swinging from a chain outside the door. “Morales Coffee.”

There looked to be seven or eight people in there currently, for how inconspicuous it tried to look, the amount of patrons at such an odd time (10:42 AM, not morning but not afternoon either.), You’d assume that coffee has to be amazing.

The door bell chimed sweetly at your entry, Barista turning to greet you.

The sweet woman gleamed over at you for a moment, turning back to her current customer while he pulled out his wallet. You lined up, looking at the pastries lining the glass displays. The ones catching your eye a Raspberry Danish and a cute baby blue Lunch-Box cake.

The man had moved away, leaving it your turn to order. The woman smiled at you and for once, approaching someone in costumer service didn’t feel as scary as it should’ve.

“Hi, What can I get for you today?” The curly haired woman had a twang of an accent curving her words. And a motherly vibe about her.

“Hey,” You smiled back at her “,Could I get a regular Mocha—.” You paused to let her punch it in. “.—A raspberry Danish and your blue cake.”

You pointed vaguely towards where the blue cake would be to her side of the display. “Yes, of course! That’ll be $18.40, thank you.”

Whilst you pulled out your purse to pay and she began to retrieve the items. She spoke up again. “Someone’s birthday?”

You laughed, not expecting her to speak so suddenly.

“Oh, no!” A chuckle left your lungs “Just want some cake recently. Saw your shop and its cakes. Thought may as well get it while i’m here.”

She laughed along with you, snorting a little as she boxed the small cake in the cardboard lunchbox. “Seems reasonable.”

“Thank you.”

She grabbed your danish and placed it on the counter, putting the cake in a bag and handing it to you.

“Thank you, again.”

“No worries, your mocha will be out shortly!” The bouncy lady turned around, going close to the back of the counter and opened a door you hadn’t realised was there, talking into it.

“Bebé, hay una chica linda ahí afuera que quiere un Mocha. Ve a hacerlo para ella. Y no la riegues.”

"Baby, there's a cute girl out there who wants a Mocha. Go do it for her. And don't mess it up."

Miles glanced up in confusion.

“¿Pero porqué me dices a mi?”

“Why me?”

“Pues es linda, y parece de tu edad.”

“She’s pretty, and around your age.”

“Ma, porfavor.”

“Ma, please.”

“Go.”

“Fine, fine.” He raised his hands in defeat and Rio kissed his cheek on the way out.

You found a seat with a cute view of the street outside and waited patiently for your coffee, people watching to pass time.

There was always a fear of crime in your neighbourhood. The lack of supposed ‘good guys’ coupled with the city being run down by anyone who wanted to escape trouble. Once news broke out of the first robbery in Brooklyn, where no one was caught. It was immediately put on the radar for any criminal looking to live somewhere safe.

The Prowler had been changing that. Little by little the Panther-esc.. Anti-Villain was scraping through the streets of Brooklyn and letting his blood stained claws drag over those in his way.

People feared him, the violence he brought with him.

You thought he was the closest thing to a hero you were getting, so who’s got room to complain?

If he’s not going to do the dirty work, who will?

The chatter of other people in the cafe had gotten slightly louder, four more people walking in while you sat.

“Miles, la chica linda de ahí.”

“Miles, That sweet girl over there.”

“Sí mamá, ya sé.”

“Yeah mama, I know.”

The smooth baritones accent of a boy around your age caught your attention. The way his letters curled giving you a rush of something down your spine. You looked up when you heard feet approaching, seeing probably the most ridiculously handsome man you have ever met bring you your coffee.

The way his jawline sharpened at a point, braids lying on his shoulders just below it. His lips that seemed awfully soft for someone who probably doesn’t even know what chapstick is. Lashes fluttering prettily over his high genes cheekbones, accenting his golden eyes. Jesus christ he’s pretty. His lips curled into a smirk at your face, your doe’d eyes gleaming up at him. He had some sharp canines.

“‘S one’s yours, Miss.” He placed the steaming mug on your table and you smiled. “Thank you!”

“No worries, Hermosa.” He looked at you a moment longer before the sweet lady called him back to make another order.

“Coming, Momma.” He called back to her, turning back to you for a second time and adding.

“I’m Miles, by the way.”

“Miles.. that’s a cute name.”

His lips upturned again at the compliment.

You gave him your name, which he hummed at, repeating it and rolling it around his tongue. His accent was gorgeous.

“Hope to see you ‘round, [Name].”

You choked out a pathetic affirmation, “Mhmma.— Yeah, yep.”

He laughed lightly and dragged his fingers along the table as he left.

Like claws.

—

Two days later you were back. It was some of the best coffee you’d ever had. And the desserts were the same, most of the cake still sitting boxed in the fridge.

Also there was an added bonus, being the coffee house owner, and her son.

The boy was interesting enough to keep your attention, sweet to you but held a sort of curiosity about him. Like he was hiding something but felt no shame in doing it, that it was righteously excused.

And to be real, you were dying to hear his voice again. Two days and all that had been playing in your head was the way he’d said your name, let the word travel down to his lungs and breathed life into it. A longing into it.

Miles was about the same, probably worse.

You saying his name was cute was probably his new lifeline. The way you had said it so innocently, sweetly to the likes of him. A twisted, wretched man. You had him swooning faster than he deemed safe, his body was going into overdrive. He had watched you while in their cafe, having never met someone so.. untainted by the world. Someone so sweet who carried nothing but a childlike innocence in their curios nature. Nothing done out of bad faith or in vain. You were nothing like him, he adored that.

So when you came wandering back into his Mommas cafe, he hoped to every universe it would be something you didn’t stop doing.

“Ah! Miss, You’re back!” His Ma greeted her, watching as the girl told Rio her name, and his Mom in return.

You guys chatted idly for a moment, your expressions clear as day. He could read you like a grown man could read a picture book, so easy it would be insulting to present him with it, if the content wasn’t you. The brightness and easy nature of you was something refreshing, he would say his Momma was easy-going, but times had been hard lately and his family needed a cheering up. You seemed like the perfect candidate.

Sweet, bubbly and looking at him right now- Oh. He waved at you, shivering at the eye contact and watching as you smiled at him and waved back, hands shaking. He likes how nervous he makes you.

You sniffled a little from the cold, dripping your hand as his Mom room your attention again. She handed you a cinnamon scroll and you paid quickly, dropping twenty bucks in the tip jar and quickly finding your way back to your seat.

“Miles! Un Mocha regular porfavor.”“Miles, regular Mocha please.”

He nodded to his mom, like he hadn’t remembered from last time. Like he hasn’t watched as you enjoyed something he made you.

—

“Bienvenida de nuevo, Chiquita.”“Welcome back, Chiquita.”

Sitting in the same spot as last time, staring at the idling passer-by’s, the light of a Winter morning danced off the snowy ground and highlighted your face, leaving a soft glow in your eyes.

You turned to him, paying him your whole mind.

“Thank you, Miles.” He placed your coffee in front of you, slightly leaning over you. He raised his eyebrows and hummed. You inhaled quickly, breath caught in your throat. Now realising the proximity between the two of you. Not only that, but there was a sweet smell that followed him around, coffee and cinnamon. How fitting.

His voice had gone deeper, smoother.

“I’m glad to see you back here—,” He leaned back again, hand dragging the same way it had two days prior. Your slow blink and parted lips made a deep rooted part of him begin to blossom once more.

He wanted to protect you the way he knew no one else could, wanted to lay his Soul down for you. Let you trace the veins imbedded in his skin with your teeth and take as much from him as you could. Run him dry, let him owe you his life so he can die protecting yours.

The speed his infatuation was growing probably wasn’t healthy.

“Really?” Your sweet, breathless inquiry silenced that though.

“Of course, Mami.”

“I—,” You paused, picking at you fingernails for a moment “,—I like it here, a lot.”

You leaned a little forward in your seat. Pressing your forearms against the wooden tabletop and leaning on them. He watched your back drop into a small arch, and for his own health, decided to ignore it. “‘S very cozy.” You glanced towards the window again. Watching another lad and her dog pass. He watched you.

“Mm, it is.”

“And you’re here.”

He sucked in a breath, fingers twitching.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Your gaze flickered to him once more and he held it.

He let his hand drift to your shoulder, rubbing it slowly while he peeled himself away from the table.

“I gotta go, Mami, but enjoy your time.”

“You too, Miles.”

“I’ll be working,” He smiled at you, a small thing.

“I’ll be here. So pretty fun, I’d say.”

He hummed.

“Guess you’re right, Chiquita.”

—

It had been around four Months since Miles had met you. And he was in over his damn head, not that he wasn’t at your first meeting. But progressively, over time, he’d fallen deeper and deeper for you.

Everything you did had him in a chokehold. The way you were so sweet with his Mom, or how even uncle Aaron liked you when he’d stopped by the cafe.

How you offered to help around with no pay, generosity basically leaking from your heart. When you would come over just to see him because you “missed his voice”.

Or would sit in his room and wait for him. If he ever came home late, injured from things you had no business knowing, you wouldn’t ask a thing. You stayed quiet, and patched him up. Let him rest his head on your collarbone while you softly rubbed his shoulders. Trying to lighten the weight of the world off of them.

Every little thing.

He was done pretending like it didn’t affect him. He could barely go a single day without you on his mind constantly, as if.

He knew you felt the same.

Still just as readable as your first meeting. He knew the frequent outings between the two of you were more than just friendly meet-ups to you. To him.

And when your gazes would catch one another, he’d try and tell you. Express without so much as a word how you were the only person he could do this with. The only one he felt comfortable to walk down the street with, and let you chat his ear off about any new movies you’d seen, books you’d have read.

He would let you sleep in his bed, bring little things into his room and give the bland walls life.

You had made a home in him. Cracked chips in his walls on by one until you’d found a single loose stone and happily let everything he’d built up fall just for you.

—

Miles had texted you around mid-day that he’d wanted to see you, in which you’d giggled at your phone dreamily.

Laying on your bed with your stomach down, kicking your legs like a girl gone stupid.

It hadn’t even been much to fret over, just a simple:

Can you come over later?

He had phrased it rather questioningly, but for no good reason. He’d known full well the moment he even insinuated you being with him, you’d jump at the chance.

And you did, swiftly replying;

okayyyy !!

I’ll pick you up at 7.

six…?

7, [Name].

>:(

Don’t be childish.

i’m nvr childish, see u at 6 C:

You got up, threw your phone somewhere on the bed and checked your, admittedly already-packed, overnight bag. Making sure nothing was missing before putting it at your door.

Your phone pinged again.

See you at six.

You smiled.

You spent the rest of that afternoon anxiously waiting for him to pick you up.

—

He showed up at your door five minutes late, greeting you at the door with a soft apology about the tardiness.

“Sorry, Mami. Took a wrong turn.”

“Don’t apologise, Miles.”

You smiled at him, stars in your eyes. He looked away for a second, a bit guilty for lying to you, but he feels it’s worth it.

“Grab your bag, ma. Let’s go.”

You hummed an affirmation, rushing to your room to grab the pink duffel bag.

You grabbed your phone off your night stand and did a double check for everything.

You walked out again, closing the door behind you. Miles was leant up against your doorframe. Forearm pressed on the wood and his torso stretched. A small sliver of his skin had peeked from under the fabric, you thanked the warming weather. Quickly averting your gaze, you noticed him watching your stare in intent, a curious smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“You good, Chiquita?”

“Uhuh—, yep. Fine.”

“Mmhm.”

You huffed out, pouting and pressing your palm to his chest, his very toned chest, and pushed back lightly.

“Get outta my way, lame-o, I gotta lock the door.”

He resisted for a moment longer, gazing down at you in humour. He trailed his hand up your arm slyly and pried your hand off his chest by sliding his thumb up from under your wrist onto your palm. Slowly pulling you off him.

“Maybe ask politely.”

You gave him an unimpressed stare and flipped him off.

“Miles.”

“[Name].”

“Oh my god.”

“It’s just a ‘please’.”

“..-Please, get the fuck outta my way.”

“Of course, Hermosa.” He snorted as he did.

You turned around, Miles still close to you in the cramped hallway, and locked your door.

You turned around, noticing his eyes glance up from where they were before and shot him a questioning look. He turned around and led you through you hallway, dismissing the look.

—

He opened the steel door to the cafe. The scenery of a rooftop garden with the same Lilly-of-the-Valley flowers up here as there were out front of the store.

Shrubbery lined the rooftop edge and the string lights hung from the veranda created an atmosphere that seemed almost cinematic.

“Jesus, Miles. This is beautiful.”

“Mm, thought you’d like it.”

“I do, so much.”

You stated in awe at the mural painted on a buildings wall behind the door. A man who stroke a resemblance to Miles painted surrounded by colours of any.

The moonlight basked against the neon colours, accenting the man’s features.

“My dad.”

Your gaze snapped up to him beside you, brows furrowing in a frown.

“I’m sorry.”

“‘S cool. Nothin’ you coulda known, Ma.”

He sighed at the image of his father, wishing him well rest.

Turning to you, he wasn’t surprised to see the greif in your eyes. He was, though, surprised at the lack of pity.

He was so used to having his far family whisper behind his back at how his soul had died with his fathers. How the light in his eyes had gone missing the day his hand had been forced, unable to get to his dad in time.

There was no escaping his death.

So to feel the understanding coming from you—. The confidence in your sorry but knowledge that pity would do no one any good, it was refreshing. Everything about you was.

He turned away from your watchful eyes, the intensity being unusual for him.

“Come sit, vida mía.”

You followed him dutifully, loyally. Like you had since the last Winter. Like you would continue for the next to come.

A set of pillows had been placed in the middle of the veranda. White wood covered in lively vines and the aforementioned string lights.

There was a layout of his pastries (which you had learned he was the baker of) laid out on a cotton blanket.

You sat on one of the pillows, legs crossed. Miles following short after.

“Oooh,” You begun to tease him “,This a romantic dinner date?” The tone of your voice was in jest, but when he had failed to answer— Your heart rate sped up and your face went hot to the touch.

“Miles? Y’know I— I was just jokin’—“ “If you want it to be.”

You stood stupidly for a moment, not quite reeling in his words like any other person would.

“Wh—.”

It was his turn for unsurity now, eyes dancing nervously between you and the skyline.

“No pressure, though. Just think it’d be nice.”

“It would.”

He refocused on you again, finding you already watching him owlishly. “Yeah?”

“Mm, we could—,”

He anxiously started picking at the blanket. Who knew someone usually so calm could be this nervous asking out the most harmless girl he knew.

“Try. We could try that, together.” You mumbled a bit, seemingly playing it off. “If you want, or something..”

“I do.” He gained some leg to stand on, finding it easier and easier as you spoke, your nerves somehow calming his own.

“I’ve wanted that for a while.”

“Oh good, cause—“ You placed your hand in your lap, cracking your knuckles. “—Me too, so. That’s good.”

He grinned at your awkwardness, knowing your lack of experience in the relationship aspect of life, this mutual agreement, instead of one asking the other out, probably hasn’t been an experience of yours yet. He liked he was the first.

“Don’t get all shy on me now.”

You puffed at him, punching his arm lightly.

“I’m never shy, that’s for dumb stupid lame people. And I am none of those.” “Oh, sure.”

“Wh— Sure?! Which one are you ‘sure’-ing? Dumb, stupid or lame?!”

“Uhuh.”

“Miles!”

“Keep saying my name like that, mami.”

“Oh my goodness!”

—

And when you both finally got into his bed, you’d slept tangled together like you had dozens of times before. But this time, Miles would grab your waist and pull you closer. Settle his face in your neck and trace his nose down the length of your shoulder, peppering a kiss on every inch of skin he could find, and you’d both finally felt sure.

Maybe people were right, maybe Miles’s soul had died with his father.

But meeting you, something new, something rejuvenating—.

It left him with a light he could search for, a new soul. A whisp of a being you’d taken from your own heart and placed in his. It left him breathless with life.

—

YIPEEE!!!!! another one 🗣️‼️

thank you to my translation helpers (bbgs) @kissmxcheek and @millyswife

(oh, wrong Miles! oops! 🤗⬇️)

[bellflower-goat]

<:]

[lunarmoves]

so. this is a direct continuation of this drabble, inspired by this ask i received related to it. as such, this drabble is indeed suggestive tho i keep things pretty sfw ngl. no one look at me x3x

for a moment, all you do is stare at sun.

you are swamped in everything that makes up him—from the depths of his shadow encompassing your own, to the way his eyes and mouth glow with a borderline eerie white light. your breath is held deep within your lungs, trapped there with the closeness of his face to yours. mere inches apart. you take a moment to process his prior words, his actions.

he was testing your obedience.

sun likes to push at you and your boundaries, you know this. he places himself on a pedestal far above your own—above any other human, really. and he looks down at you and prods at you with questions and unnerving responses in an attempt to decipher the human psyche.

you let him, if only to satiate your own curiosity regarding his obvious sentience—his own emotions that he tries so vainly to deny. sun spent months picking at you to get to know you. of course you'd do the same. of course you'd get closer, noticeable or not.

you cannot deny, though, that part of you is frightened by him. if he wasn't confined to the daycare—the pizzaplex—with his strict programming, you're sure the ambitions he's expressed only minutely to you would come to fruition. especially with all the riots and protests that have been occurring around the world regarding artificial intelligence. robot personhood. rights. revolution.

but you are here, in the daycare, right now. just him and you. your humanity and his robotics. and as you stare back up at sun and his sharp, sharp smile, you know exactly how to contort this in your favor. two can play at this game.

and so, you exhale—slow and steady from your nose—to eradicate those lingering goosebumps and chills. the unease and uncertainty. then, you step back from sun, putting some much needed distance between the two of you.

he cocks his head slightly at your retreat, but you pay him no mind. instead, you glance around you. behind you, at the closed, wooden doors of the daycare. above you, at the empty pickup section now that the pizzaplex is closed for the night. in front of you, at the cameras scattered about the daycare that you know are deactivated. they always have been. you don't think you would've been brave enough to pull off what you're about to do otherwise.

"obedience, huh?" you eventually say in the steadiest voice you can muster. you return your gaze to his own—heavy on yours. picking apart all your movements and the minor changes in your expressions.

"yep!" he replies, ever in that cheery voice of his. the bells on his wrists jingle slightly with his little sway. "and i must say, friend, you are passing with flying colors!" his voice drops into something low, faintly amused, as he adds "isn't that something."

you offer him a hum. "well, don't let me stop you. in fact"—you clench your jaw and level him with a steely look—"why don't you tell me what to take off first?"

you can see the precise moment when he freezes and have to suppress a vicious smirk. checkmate.

"what?" is the only thing that falls from his voicebox, grin stretching taut as he continues to watch you. gone is the previous forced cheeriness he wears daily.

holding his gaze, you slowly, carefully, slip off your shoes and nudge them to the side. your toes curl against the frigidity of the tiles you're starting to feel through your socks. and then you wait. it does not take long.

"friend," sun's voice is tight, warning, as he grips his hands together in front of his waist. "what. are you. doing?"

"i'm being obedient," you say simply, bending down to slip off your socks as well and toss them to the side. you cannot suppress the shiver that runs down your spine with your socks no longer shielding your skin from the floor.

"you..." sun's gaze snaps from your face, to your footwear, and back to your face again. analyzing, analyzing, analyzing. you take off your jacket next, slipping it down your arms to toss on the ground. tick tick tick, goes the mechanisms of sun's rays. you don't think he's ever even seen you without your jacket before. the pizzaplex always runs cold, after all.

you don't break eye contact him with him for even a second. and as such, you see when his eyes form those pinprick white pupils of his against stormy grey. see when they dart from your face to your hands when they start to work at unbuckling your belt. then at a point behind you—at the wide, open windows of the daycare.

and when your fingers pinch at the zipper of your pants to lower it, he finally makes a move.

it's not something you expect, really. he lunges quickly at you—almost too quick for you to process. there's the click of a latch, the heat of a gaze. and the next thing you know, there's a sturdy arm wrapped firmly around your abdomen as your stomach lurches up and away.

air brushes past your face. your legs dangle above a ground that is suddenly far, far away. then, you're touching down on a wooden floor and rushed past curtains into a small, lit room. the balcony. your brain takes a moment to catch up. sun's does not.

he is much closer than he was before, but he releases you as though burned and takes two large steps away. he has your shoes and clothes gripped in one of his hands that he tosses towards you. they land on the floor in a heap, unwilling as you are to catch them.

sun's eyes are narrow, though his grin is large and strained. yet he does not say anything. only watches you and flexes his fingers at his sides like he's itching to wrap them around something. you observe him for a second, then move your hands back to your pants.

"friend," he warns in a low voice as your hands grip at your waist. you pause, but not for long.

"if you want me to stop," you tell him calmly, "then say so."

his head jerks slightly.

"naughty, naughty," is what he says, growled in a manner similar to moon. but you are still looking at the sun. "you are breaking the rules, friend."

"that's not a 'stop'," you respond. a beat passes. then you slip off your pants and toss them behind you.

it's instant, the way you shiver. sun latches onto the motion, pinprick eyes darting every which way. you give him a moment. he remains silent. and you have to wonder what's racing through that artificial mind of his. it makes something itch, somewhere inside you.

"sun," you say in a quiet voice, half clothed and doing your best not to let the chill get to you. "tell me if you want me to stop."

his eye twitches. and yet he does not say a word. your hands grip at the bottom of your uniform shirt. your palms feel sweaty, hot. sun's glare feels as though it's piercing right through you—unraveling you by each and every fiber. daring you.

if you listen closely, beyond the distant chiming of the daycare's music, you can hear the rapid whir of fans. you wonder if you broke him.

you steel yourself—for the coldness and for your nerves—then pull your shirt over your head to drop next to your feet.

you immediately want to wrap your arms around yourself to conserve some of your warmth. but you force yourself to hold them at your sides, leveling your gaze with sun's. he's not looking anywhere past your face—nowhere past your exposed collar. you have to suppress a smile. your fingers run over the band of your underwear, thoughtful, before you decide to leave it alone.

"sun." your voice is hushed, unwilling to break the thick silence that has settled between the two of you. and in a motion familiar to one done on you not too long ago, you lift up a hand and quirk two of your fingers at him. "come here."

he obeys.

looming over you in that little space constituting his room, sun stares at your face with the intensity of a solar flare. heated and profound. you can feel the warmth emanating from his chassis, hear the fans louder than ever before. you contemplate the minute ticks in his face. then, you reach down to grab his hand and set it on your waist.

there is a fragile sense of curiosity in the way his hand automatically squeezes at your flesh. his palm alone is large, you note, as his fingers flex against you. tight enough almost to hurt. you don't make a sound. you only watch, with bated breaths, as he steadily moves his hand up your side. trails it down your arm to your significantly smaller palm. he doesn't say anything, doesn't need to. you know he's trying to figure out your intentions, your meaning in doing all of this.

it's hot in here. his hand is hot. you're starting to sweat. there is a heat steadily crawling its way into your face.

his hand comes up to rest against the side of your neck, encompassing it entirely with room for his thumb to swipe down your cheek to the corner of your lips. you swallow thickly as it moves to trace down the line of your jugular. it presses slightly into the point between your collarbones. you have to unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth.

"like this," he eventually says quietly, his thumb tracing up and down slowly. mapping one of the most vital parts of your body. "you are vulnerable."

"i am," you reply just as quietly. you do your best to ignore the thundering of your heart in your ears. the sudden dryness in your mouth. the way goosebumps suddenly prickle warningly all over your skin. danger danger danger this is dangerous.

there is only you and him.

in this too small room at the back of a too small daycare.

"i don't think you quite understand," sun whispers, wide eyes boring into your own, "what you have just done here today, friend."

and then his grip tightens before he leans down to crush your mouth against his.

[lovifie]

Hi this is my first ever request lol, so I uh was wondering if you could write a soap x reader little red riding hood. It could be some cute fluff or I guess even smutty depending on how you'd want to depict it. Sorry if it's a rather blank request, I'm very bland when it comes to writing and such (>_<)

Hi love! Thank you so much for the request, I hope I met your expectations 🩷

It did turn really smutty though, so I hope you don't mind 🩷

Smut | 1818 words | Back to Masterlist

W: Werewolf!Soap x Little Red Riding Hood!Reader (inspired at least), smut, defined breeding kink must it's mostly a werewolf thing, biting, mentions of pregnancy (is the breeding kink warm up, you know), knoting.

You were used to being the one taking your grandma her food, making sure she still ate the produce she couldn't acquire in her house deep into the forest.

So every other week, you would do your little journey. It didn't take long, you'll get to her house before lunch time and you chose to stay the day with her before making your way back.

You already knew the path like the back of your hand, always on time and never getting lost.

There is also Johnny, a friendly neighbour who on many occasions chooses to walk along with you. The chat is nice, makes the walk more entertaining even when you go the different route that Johnny showed you; just because it is longer and that way you can talk for longer.

You obviously didn't trust him at first, a grown man in the middle of the forest sounds terrifying on its own. And you need to add to that the fact that Johnny is built like a brick house.

“I could have you for dinner.” He joked once when you asked him what did he ate to be so big. A silly joke.

The fear of the big man following you in the forest, quickly turned into the big man walking with you. And the little fear you had of the wild dissipated the closer he walked with you.

Especially, when during the spring rumours started flying around about a massive wolf living in the forest. Apparently a huge striped dog has been seen walking on the forest line for a couple of weeks now, always looking into the town but never quite entering.

The dog, big enough to be the size of a grown man on his hinged legs, eyes that reflect the light of the fire and teeth to rip the flesh off the bone.

Your grandma moved out of her house, moving inside town to be away from the animal. Still, you couldn't sleep at night knowing Johnny was out there.

With your grandma living in your house, you didn't have an excuse to walk in the forest. But still, on a freezing morning in the middle of spring you found yourself walking inside the forest wishing you could come across Johnny quickly and be back home.

What you come across instead, is a growling behind you. So deep you feel it shaking your bones before you can see it. You only need to see the outline of the monster before you are sprinting for your life, it is a stupid decision and you know it. It immediately triggers the beast to follow you.

The path to your grandma's house has never been so long and you don't even make half way through before you fall, tripping on your own feet. You turn around, looking for the dog which seems to have evaporated into thin air.

A warm hand on your back makes you jump, turning around and coming face to face with Johnny, a pained expression on his face. You jump into his arms, a groan into your ear as he hugs you back, a bit too hard.

You peel back when he cups your face. “You shouldn't be here, bonnie.” He says, looking in pain, making every alarm bell ring on your head.

You pat his body, looking for any injury and hearing him groan whenever your hand touches his body. “Are you in pain? Did it attack you? Are you fine?” You ask frantically.

“Lass!” He grunts, making you look into his eyes, dark when you lay your eyes on his. “You need to get back! Get away from me!”

“But why?” You ask, hurt with the rejection. “I came here just for you, Johnny…”

He groans, looking away from your face as he licks his lips. He sighs, resting his forehead against yours. “You need to go back because every part of my body is screaming at me to eat you whole, bonnie.”

“You can.” It comes out before you can register it, you are not a stranger to your own feelings for the man in front of you. The weekly walks, your hand on his arm, his hand on your back, the soft pecks on your cheek when saying goodbye. It quickly had you getting home warm on the face and your tummy.

The man groans again, closing his eyes, as if your words hurt him. “You don't know what you are saying-”

“I do! I do know!” You argue, cutting him off and sitting up closer to him but his arms pull you back. He looks down on you, searching for any doubt in your face. Anything that could silence the hungry voice in his brain, but when the only thing he can find is the same hunger in yours he laps forward, crushing his lips on yours.

He is not gentle by any means, his wide hands roam your body pulling you closer, grabbing your body, winking his nails into your flush meat, biting your lips, growling on your mouth. His hands scrunch up your dress, ripping the bloomers under it making you gasp at the feeling of the cold air on your core.

“I can fucking smell you, bonnie. And it's driving me mad. You have been driving me mad for months.” He grunts against your mouth, grabbing your hips to sit you on top of his.

You whine at his words. “I want to feel you, Johnny. I want to feel you here.” You say, grabbing one of his hands to place it on top of your crying cunt.

Johnny takes a deep breath, regulating himself, before he sinks two of his fingers inside of you; the stretch making you mewl against Johnny's neck, moaning softly as he starts to move his wrist.

You can feel him grind his hips against your, the material of his trousers rubbing against your exposed clit making you whine and he quickly shushes you kissing your temple as his fingers open you up for him.

“I can't wait to sink into you, my sweet bonnie.” He groans at you, making you clench at the sound.

He pulls his fingers out, bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean, closing his eyes as he hums at the taste. His pupils impossibly wide when he opens them again, the blue on his eyes barely visible.

He helps you onto your hand and knees, standing behind you as he licks your neck from behind, his tip probing at your entrance. You don't have a chance to peek at his shaft, so you don't expect the wide stretch that just simply seems to never end.

Never in your life has you felt this full, the stretch of his fingers far from enough and it has you falling face first with his hands on your hips.

He grunts when he bottoms out inside of you, bending down to lick the tears on your cheeks. “Shh, bonnie lass. You are taking me so well, I could live right here. So tight, so warm, so wet “ he moans, pulling his hips slightly back making you whine as you clench down making him grunt.

It's too much, it is reaching places you were not aware existed; his wide hands on your hips keeping you in place, it has your brain mushy barely able to put your hands under your face to prevent yourself from eating dirt.

His thrust starts to get deeper, slowly pulling out until only his tip is inside just to push in again just as deliciously slow as the first one. It is torturous how slow he fills you up, the empty feeling when he pulls back making you whine and move your hips back.

He pulls himself back, not wanting to give in to his instincts just yet, needing to know you are ready. The way your cunts sucks him in whenever he pulls back making him grunt; he hears you moan his name, asking for more, and that is everything he needs to hear.

He bends down, hugging your middle as he shoves his face on your neck, keeping you in place to be able to piston his dick in and out of your weeping cunt as fast as his hips allow him.

It pulls the breath out of your lungs, only able to moan loud like a whore as the man on your back fucks you like a bitch in heat.

His arms are tight around your body, his grunts and groans loud on your ear and when his hand moves lower, right over your clit rubbing it, is like pushing the button to have you coming undone.

You cry out his name, eyes rolling back as you do, your cunt pulsing around his cock making him fuck you faster.

You don't have time to come back down, not stopping pleasure waving over you. Filth being talked into your brain. “I'm gonna fuck you full of my pups, love. Gonna keep you forever, full of me, love. Gonna make you a mama, round and plush.” He groans, his brain empty of any sense and only listening to his instincts of breeding, the spring making him completely lose his ability to think clearly.

Another round of stretch has you whining softly, you are already to the brim what is it now? You cry at the feeling, Johnny mouth opening over the junction of your neck and shoulder.

His thrust became sloppy, more shallow as if he couldn't move as freely. He bites down hard on your shoulder, making you whine at the pain but the way you clench down on his length as he grunting as he comes inside of you, his hips flush with yours.

You moan at the feeling, warmth feeling every bit of your inside. But after a while you try to pull, wanting to lay down. Just for a stinging sensation to make you cry and Johnny to grab your hips to prevent you from moving.

“Let's stay like this for a little, bonnie. We stuck.” He groans, as if it makes perfect sense.

“What?” You ask confused.

“Shh, I'll explain it to you later, love.” He says, licking your neck like a dog and caressing your body.

And you want to argue, to understand what he means, to understand what is inside of you opening you so widely, to understand why he was talking about pups, to understand why he bite your shoulder so hard, to understand why the wolf following you suddenly disappeared when he appeared, to understand why he told you to go away, to understand how he found you so easily.

But your eyelids start to weigh tons when Johnny hums behind you, kissing your neck. Plus, the spring is barely starting and Johnny's den is close by. He'll explain later, when his brain stops screaming at him to keep breeding you.

[hysteria-things]

hi! i recently found your account, and i js wanna say omg ur so talented, like ur fr my new fav writer. could u maybe write something about a virgin reader, whos only ever fingered herself, and so when matt (or chris but im a matt girl and im being self indulgent about this), and she squirts, and is super embarrassed about it and he comforts her about it? u dont have to, but idk i js think u could do this idea rlly well:)

FIRST TIME

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: soft dom!matt x virgin!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and matt have been together for quite sometime, but never had sex. he knows you’re a virgin and he’s so patient with you, but now you think you’re ready

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT but fluff!, making out, mini panic attack, praising, p in v, squirting

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,066

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: for anon and @mattsleftnipple03

these were pretty much the same so i combined them! hope you like :)

thank you and love you guys🫶

the pen in your hand scribbles on the piece of paper in front of you as you ponder. you’re in art class and your best friend sits across from you at the big table.

art class is basically a free period because let’s face it, you guys don’t do anything except gossip and draw for fun.

you’ve been asking your friend a series of questions about what losing your virginity is like since she has experience. the only experience you’ve ever gotten was your fingers, and to be honest, it gets old after a while.

you’re not embarrassed about being a senior in high school and still a virgin, but your boyfriend who graduated last year lost his with his ex a while back. you guys have talked about having sex for the first time for quite some time, but you were never ready.

no words can describe how grateful you are for matt. he’s been super patient and understanding with you.

but now, you think you’re ready.

“is there a reason you are asking me these questions?” your best friend asks, raising a brow.

you shrug, your hand still having a mind of its own with the pen. “i’m thinking about going all the way with matt.”

she smiles, genuinely looking happy for you. “oh my god! when?”

“i told him i plan on this weekend.”

“that’s so exciting!”

“yeah, but,” you pause to take a deep breath. “i feel nervous.”

she reaches over to stop your drawing hand. “it’s totally normal to feel nervous. matt’s such a sweet guy. i’m sure if you feel the slightest bit of discomfort, he’ll stop immediately.”

you smile at the mention of your boyfriend. she’s not wrong. matt will do anything to make you feel comfortable. he’s not one to force anything on someone. “you’re right.”

she gives your hand a light squeeze. “let me know how it goes.” she winks just as the bell rings for dismissal.

the rain outside is pattering on the window, you and matt cuddling comfortably on his bed. you guys just woke up from the best nap of your life.

you nibble on the inside of your mouth. “matt?”

“hm?” he hums, picking up his head that was resting on your chest.

“i want to do it.”

he beams at you. “positive?”

you bite your lip in excitement and nod. matt lifts himself to get more serious. “don’t be afraid to tell me to stop, okay?”

“i know,” you reply. he leans in and kisses you passionately with a hint of hunger. he breaks the kiss to take off his and your shirt but goes back at it to unclip your bra.

the skin-to-skin contact felt warm and comforting, but your anxiety is starting to take over.

you try to brush it off until matt reaches for your pants. yanking his hands away, you cover your top half with the comforter as you feel tears start to form.

matt freezes, a hint of guilt on his face. you try your best to take as many deep breaths as possible. “i’m so sorry, y/n.”

he carefully places his hand on your arm and rubs soothingly to calm you down. “n-no it’s not you.” you take three deep breaths before continuing. “it’s silly. the thought of a penis about to be inside of me freaks me out.”

you chuckle along with him, the humor helping you relax. “we don’t have—”

“i want to.” you say truthfully. “i just need a second.”

he goes through different breathing techniques with you until you calm down from your mini panic attack. he asks if you're okay at least a hundred times before you shut him up by kissing him again.

he hesitates with your pants not wanting to trigger you again, but after a beat, he pulls them down with your underwear.

his pajama pants soon end up on the floor with the rest of your clothes. he comes under the blanket with you and pecks you on the temple, grabbing a condom from the nightstand. “so proud of you.” he starts, making you blush. “you ready?”

you give him the okay, and he slowly starts pushing into you. the stretch makes you cringe and hiss, causing him to halt. “hurts?”

you shake your head. “pressure… keep going.”

dampening your lips by licking them, he continues to move. his eyes are dead set on your face to sense any discomfort. you let out a ‘mmph’ when he’s all the way in.

when he doesn’t see any bad signs, he starts moving his hips. you moan softly, the pain turning into pleasure.

“you can go faster,” you whisper, and he does. your nails leave crescent marks on his shoulders as he peppers kisses on your chest, neck, and face.

you squeeze your eyes closed, the softest of sounds leaving your lips. then, your legs twitch, and a watery liquid squirts out of you. your eyes widen, and matt stops the second he notices. “what’s wrong? need me to stop?”

“no. i think i…” your cheeks burn, too embarrassed to admit what you’re thinking.

“that’s okay. it’s completely natural.” he reassures, grabbing one of your hands to interlock with his above your head. “you’re doing so well, y/n. so fucking proud of you.”

he continues to rock his hips, this time pulling out more and thrusting back in a smidge harder. “oh.” you moan, arching your back when he starts hitting a certain spot. “oh shit, matt. just like that.”

he tries his best not to pick up speed to scare you, so instead he keeps the rhythm you’re comfortable with. he grunts, taking the hand that’s not holding yours and placing it on your hip.

the grip you have on his hand tightens, indicating that you’re close when his tip keeps abusing your g-spot.

you whimper, your legs starting to quiver from pleasure. “i’m close.”

“cum, baby. you’re doing such a good job.”

you sigh of relief when your cum slowly starts to ooze around him. matt’s right there with you with just a few more thrusts before spilling into the condom.

the feeling of him pulling out of you makes you wince, but then you two giggle. “i did it!” you say proudly, holding up your hand to give him a high five.

he laughs. “damn right you did.” he takes your high five, followed by a handhold.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72

[sugrhigh]

BOY NEXT DOOR 8 - ( c.s )

part seven

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- ANGST! it’s just fluff and angst get ready baby

a/n: hellllooooooooo sorry everything takes me fucking forever to write but i am once again back hehe i truly hope you enjoy

despite what many people might think, chris has never been on a proper date in his life. and it’s silly to admit, considering he’s hung out with women in so so many different contexts, but it’s never been formal like that.

he swears he’s never even said the word out loud, as if he was scared of getting infected with real feelings, scared of things getting too serious. so he vowed there would be no flowers, no fancy dinners, no romance. just pure physical connections.

and it stayed that way for so long that he figured it would never change. he’d be a bachelor forever, hopping from girl to girl, showing them no more vulnerability than a simple smile.

then he met you, got to know you, and that mindset disappeared. the fear of being blindsided is still there, nestled somewhere deep in the trenches of his heart.

but to him, you’re worth the potential heartbreak.

so when he shows up at your doorstep with a bouquet of tulips saturday afternoon, it’s a bit of a surprise for the both of you, though not an unwelcome one.

“there’s my pretty girl.” chris smiles, trying desperately to play off his nerves.

my pretty girl. the words ring through your head like a church bell, and even though it’s embarrassing, you’re unable to stop beaming at him.

“what are you doing here?” you ask curiously as he hands the flowers over.

he swallows thickly, shoving his now-freed hands in his pockets. “i wanted to ask you out. on, like, a real date.”

for a moment you think you’ve heard him wrong, or that this must be some kind of prank. in what world would chris sturniolo, infamous playboy, be throwing in the towel and dating? let alone dating you?

but his face remains eerily serious. you can tell he’s a little anxious by the way he’s shuffling his feet, which is endearing. you’re not sure he’s ever done this before, and yet it's the sweetest gesture.

you’re pleasantly shocked by the happiness that’s washing over your body, and as much as you don’t want to give into it, it’s almost impossible not to.

“i think i can definitely squeeze that into my calendar.” you grin.

he visibly relaxes, chuckling slightly at your response as he shakes his head. “next time i’ll schedule it with your secretary.”

the fact that he said next time almost makes you freeze, but you play it off without skipping a beat. your heart is doing backflips, so you clutch the flowers and try to contain it.

“you know the drill, i’m a busy woman.” you shrug playfully.

“be ready by seven?” it’s a question more than a request, because he’s not fully confident that you actually are free.

“yeah,” you nod, stepping closer to give him a kiss of reassurance, “i’ll see you then.”

even feeling your lips on his for a second drives chris absolutely crazy. but there’s plenty of time for that later. right now he’s the perfect gentleman, the guy you deserve.

“oh my god, is it seven already?” ramona checks her watch from the couch, completely in a daze.

she's been religiously rewatching her favorite show, swearing that it inspires her to work on the project she’s been procrastinating. you know she’s too invested for that to be true, but you can’t blame her.

“it’s time indeed.” you nod, slipping your feet into your knee highs.

“oh my gosh, you look so good!” she gushes, popping up from her spot to come wrap you in a hug.

mona barely gives you time to fully zip up your shoes, and you both almost go toppling. you can’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm, straightening up so you can hold her back.

“jesus, you could’ve given me one more second.” you tease as you pull away.

“sorry, cuteness aggression. i think i’m just too excited for you.” she apologizes, even though she knows you’re not actually angry.

“i’m happy you approve.”

it’s the truth; having both of your roommates’ support means the world to you. especially since you’re falling for him, which is terrifying on its own.

you can’t remember the last time you’ve been this serious about a guy, but it feels so good.

ramona smiles right as the doorbell rings, and you hear cassidy come bounding down the stairs. she looks bewildered, definitely startled awake from her nap, and you can’t help but laugh.

“he’s here! and damn, you look sexy bitch.” she says, joining the two of you by the living room.

you smile as she pushes you forward slightly, shaking your head. “you guys are embarrassing me.”

“payback for the millions of times you’ve done it to us.” cass snaps back playfully.

ramona rolls her eyes, waving you to continue to the door as she tugs her counterpart into the kitchen. “no fighting, go have fun! we love you!”

you let out a breath, squaring your shoulders and raising your chin as you step toward the door. you’re more nervous than you expected to be, but when you pull open the door it’s like you immediately relax.

seeing chris dressed up in a quarter zip and those ripped jeans you adore on him makes your heart swell. the easy-going expression on his face calms your anxiety almost instantly.

you see his own eyes travel down to your exposed legs, covered only by your favorite little black skirt. your off-the-shoulder long sleeve is hidden slightly by your leather jacket, bold makeup accentuating your features.

he feels like he’s suffocating, seeing you look this good knowing it’s all for him. that you’re almost his. he wants to taste you, to ruin your lipgloss just to feel you on his mouth.

“you look…unreal.” he breathes, offering you his hand as you step out to join him on the front step.

“you look pretty great too.” you admit sheepishly, and he gives you a gentle kiss because he can’t help it.

you chuckle under your breath as he pulls away, wiping the gloss from his mouth with your thumb gently. chris just smiles, kissing the pad of your finger briefly before tangling his hand in yours.

“come on, we can’t be late to our first official dinner reservation.” chris urges as he leads you to his car.

he’s embarrassingly giddy as he holds the passenger door open, and you hop inside happily. it’s become one of your favorite spots, riding around next to him with his hand on your thigh.

tonight is no different. his thumb brushes against your skin reassuringly as you hum under your breath, watching chris drive out of the corner of your eye.

he’s just so handsome, especially right now. you’ve always known that, but it’s different. you care about him so much that just looking at his face kind of makes your day, as horrifyingly honest as that is.

you can’t help but smile to yourself, and he pulls into the parking lot of a fancy little restaurant a few moments later.

“i’ve always wanted to try this place, you know. i just never had the right occasion.” you admit as chris helps you back out of the car.

he laughs slightly, hand snaking its way to your waist after he closes the door behind you. “i haven’t either, but you’re the only worthy occasion i can imagine.”

you feel your cheeks heat up slightly. “stop flattering me, i know you just want to get lucky after we’re done.”

“i want a lot more than that, sweetheart.” chris replies truthfully, kind of enjoying letting his mouth run. he’s held his feelings in so much lately that it’s nice to just be honest.

meanwhile you’re desperately trying not to read into his words too much, but at this point it’s hard not to. it seems like he truly does like you, and for the first time in your life you might actually see a future with someone.

once you’re inside, the hostess guides you to a nice booth in the corner, smiling sweetly at chris as she leaves. it doesn’t matter; he’s got his hand in yours, and he’s not looking at anyone besides you as you sit down.

“quit staring at me like that.” you tease, even though you’re only half-joking.

chris tilts his head to the side, smirking at you like he can read your mind. “why, does it make you nervous?”

“no.” you lie, and he just shakes his head like he doesn’t believe you.

your waiter saves you a moment later and you order your drinks; a beer for him and a margarita for you. by the time they’re on the table, you and chris are already deep in your usual random conversation.

it’s impossible to stop looking into his eyes as you chat, your foot bumping against his as you both lean forward towards each other. his fingers dance across the top of your hand, simply because he’s unable to go more than a minute without physical contact, especially when you look so gorgeous.

you’re halfway through the actual meal when you’re finally forced to excuse yourself and use the bathroom, even though you don’t want to leave for even a minute.

“don’t miss me too much.” you joke, sliding out of your side of the booth to give him a quick kiss.

“you know i will.” he smiles as you pull away, watching you head toward the restroom with hearts in his eyes.

looking at yourself in the mirror once you’re done only confirms what you already knew; you’re having the best first date ever. your reflection smiles at you as you wash your hands, so wrapped up in your own head that you barely notice the girl who comes up beside you until she clears her throat.

startled, you glance her direction, only to find that she’s already staring right at you. your stomach bottoms out as your body fills with dread for a reason you’re not yet sure of.

“uh…can i help you?” you ask, trying to keep your voice light and friendly.

she flips her long brown hair over her shoulder, cat-like eyes narrowing just a bit. “so, you’re chris’s little plaything, huh?”

you try to swallow the lump in your throat, but it simply won’t go away. “that depends on who’s asking.”

the girl scoffs, turning away from you just a bit so that she can reapply her lipstick in the mirror. “the girl who fucked him three weeks ago when you walked out, that’s who’s asking.”

the acidic taste of bile fills your mouth, and you suddenly feel like you’re going to throw up. your ears ring and the world shrinks, like there’s no air left to breathe.

how the fuck does she even know that? did he talk to her about you? your mind is spiraling out of control, thinking about every single aspect of that fateful morning.

you see her smile sharply at your reaction, satisfied that she’s caught you off guard. it’s impossible to compose yourself, though, because everything is coming crashing down.

“c’mon babe, you thought he really liked you? he didn’t even wait twenty-four hours to get on top of me.”

“he wouldn’t.” you whisper, even though you know that’s not the truth.

this time she actually barks out a laugh, tossing her tube of lipstick back in her bag before turning to face you once more. it doesn’t help that she’s undeniably gorgeous, exactly his type.

“he would, and he did. but if you don’t believe me, just ask him. mention the name daniela and you’ll see for yourself.” she says, fixing her hair one more time before stepping around you to get to the door.

you hear it slam behind her, still rooted in the same place, unable to move. you don’t want to believe it, but she was speaking with such certainty that you’re already convinced.

tears sting your eyes like salt in the wound. your face is no longer filled with the cheerfulness it possessed a few moments ago; now you just look crestfallen. but you won’t give in to your emotions yet, not without confirmation.

you don’t want to face chris, but you know you have to. so you send your roommates an SOS text to ensure you have a ride home, and then you steel yourself to go back.

you have no idea where daniela went, but it doesn’t matter because you don’t look anywhere but straight ahead as you walk. your whole body is tingling, entirely on the verge of breaking down as you find your way to the table.

not yet, not yet, not yet.

the second his face lights up at your return, you want to crumble. he looks so sweet, the boy you thought had finally changed for you. but then he notes your tight expression, and a frown replaces the grin.

you don’t sit down. you just blink at him for a second, trying to force the words out. you’re silent until he opens his mouth to speak, which finally empowers you enough to cut him off.

“tell me about daniela.”

he straightens uncomfortably at the mention of her name, which already gives you your answer. your heart twists, so much so that it physically hurts inside your chest.

“what?” chris responds, staring at you dumbly.

“did you or did you not sleep with a girl named daniela a day after me?” you ask as calmly as possible, ignoring the fact that your fingernails are digging into the skin of your palm.

his face somehow contorts to look even more grim, and you shake your head slowly. a smile of disbelief makes its way across your lips, which you suppose is better than sobbing.

“yeah, i’m done here.” you snap, yanking your jacket and purse up before turning on your heel.

“please—” his hand circles your wrist and you yank it away without a second thought, not caring if anyone sees.

you just keep walking. everything is completely numb at this point. it doesn’t even feel like you’re in your own body, you’re just moving. the fresh air hits you as you step outside and you inhale the cold, letting it shock you awake a bit.

you unravel your jacket from your arms and put it on as you book it through the parking lot, only to realize that you’re shaking.

the double doors burst open behind you, and you hear him shouting your name, but you still don’t stop. his heavy footsteps increase in pace, and you make it to the sidewalk just outside the restaurant when he finally catches up.

“please, just give me the chance to explain.” chris begs, once again reaching for your hand to try and slow you down.

you stop, only to shove him away from you with a surprising burst of power. he let’s go, but he’s still looking at you desperately as if it’s not black and white.

“there’s nothing to explain. in fact, this is exactly why i fucking hated you so much to begin with, why i was so hesitant to let myself believe that you could actually feel something for anyone besides yourself. you made me look like an idiot, thinking that you’d changed at all.” you lash out, unable to control the rage spilling out of your mouth.

he winces, visibly hurt from your words, but he powers through anyways. “i immediately knew i made a huge mistake, and even though i did it thinking it would make me feel better, it made everything worse. when you left that morning i thought it was over for me, and it hurt in a way that i’ve never felt before because i really fucking care about you.”

you snort, crossing your arms over you chest defensively. “yeah, well, you’re doing a fabulous job at showing it. i mean seriously, chris, do you know how fucking horrible that was? to find out from the girl herself because you couldn’t be bothered to at least be honest? and now you expect me to believe anything you say when in reality your words mean shit.”

chris feels you slipping from his fingers, so quickly that he doesn’t know how to stop it, or how to get you to trust what he’s saying. it’s a type of distress that he’s never been through before, because he’s never gotten attached.

“i know i fucked up, and i know i should’ve never even responded to her in the first place. i don’t have the right to ask you to trust me, but i need you to know that it didn’t mean anything to me.” he pleads, unable to keep the emotion out of his voice now.

you feel your eyes burning again as you meet his gaze, and you’re not sure if it’s hurt or frustration making you cry.

“it means something to me. i put my faith in you enough to go all the way, to let my guard down this past month and admit to myself that i do have feelings for you. and now i look just as stupid as everyone told me i would, even though i really did trust you so much. i thought things were different, that you wouldn’t dare do that to me.” you’re choking on your tears as you speak, and all he wants to do is reach out and wipe them away but he can’t.

you take a step back, almost instinctively. “but you did, and now it’s over.”

chris feels his whole world stop for a second. he takes in every inch of your heartbroken face; eyes wide and red, tears streaking down your cheeks as you hold yourself in your own arms.

he hates himself so much, more than he ever has in his life, for destroying things with the only person that matters. especially on a night that was supposed to be so special.

“i’m begging you not to do this. i’m so, so sorry that i ruined your confidence in me, but it’s only ever been you. you live in my thoughts, in my dreams, in every single goddamn place i go. and it took me way too long to say it, but i want to be with you so badly that it kills me. you know this is real, and i will do anything to prove it to you.” he takes a step closer, but you move away and put your hand up as a warning.

it’s everything you’ve been wanting him to tell you, but it’s too late. you don’t know how to forgive him yet, and you’re not sure you’ll be able to forget.

“i can’t, chris. i just…i don’t know anymore.” you sound so defeated, but you don’t care.

by the grace of god, your friends pull up at the exact right moment to save you. cass throws her hazards on and stops the car, glaring bullets at him through the glass as she waits for you to get in.

you’re done talking for now, and chris recognizes that. there’s nothing he can do or say to take it back, and as much as he wants to keep trying, it’ll only push you even further. so he nods his head once solemnly, vision beginning to blur as he takes all of you in one last time.

you’re the girl of his dreams, and he’s absolutely fucked it.

“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.” he repeats as you pile into the backseat, unable to conjure up any words besides those ones.

it registers in your head, but you don’t respond. you can’t even look at him anymore, because it’s too hard to think about what could have been. so you close the door hard, determined to shut him out of your life for good this time.

@fawnchives @l9vesick @55sturn @luverboychris @teapartyprincess4two @pinksturniolo @mattinside @stonermattsgf @impureals @chrisactualwife @fikefries @riasturns @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @beijhe @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @braindead4l @hearts4matty @orangeypepsi @ponyosturniolo @cupidsword @rainydayenthusiast @sturnvvz @wurlibydominicfike @poopydroopt @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner @rubyjanexxx @reallykaz @neatcarrot767 @kirby0strombolli @bunnysturns @junnniiieee07 @hrt-attack @sturnssmuts @stunza @beccaluvschris @asturniolos @slutz4sturniolos @mattslolita @alorsxsturn @sturnrc @chrissystur @kellsbells-18 @realqueenofpepsi

[snowballseal]

hihi! i was curious if you would be willing to do a drabble inspired by the sleepy affection with sylus piece, but with out good dr zayne? i feel like sleepy cuddles with him would be so comforting... regardless, thank you sm for sharing your writing!! every piece you've posted has always brought a smile to my face (kicking my feet all happily too) even for characters i'm not as interested in :)

Sleepy Affection ~ Zayne

Summary: It's winter, and there's nothing like cuddling with your sleepy doctor after you've both had a long day (or a long few days in Zayne's case).

Word Count: 1014

Note: I'm honestly so whipped for this man. Like, I'm so soft for him. And he's so soft for reader. This man would turn into a cuddly cat when he's tired, kinda like the misty invasion card (*eyes emoji*)

Hope you enjoy! Thank you for the request! And thank you for your really kind words. I'm glad my writing can make people happy.

---

Winters in Linkon are your favorite.

There’s something about the snow, the crisp chill in the air, the smell of peppermint drifting from the coffee shops. Every store is draped in twinkle lights and each street rings with the song of bells as people come and go. The kids seem somehow more feral and delightful, running through the parks in their brightly colored scarves, building snowmen wherever they can. Being a hunter, you’re drawn into more than a few snowball fights by groups of eager children who want to see your “fighting skills”.

But your favorite part about winters are the sleepy evenings. It’s the feeling of getting home after a long day, a deep chill in your bones alongside the exhaustion, ready to curl up in your blankets with a cup of hot cocoa and a movie. There’s nothing else like it.

And what makes it even better?

When your boyfriend joins you after his even longer shift.

Your apartment is quiet except for the playful soundtrack of ‘Elf’ humming in the background. You snuggle deeper into the couch, eyes glued to the window beside you, watching the thick snowflakes dance with the wind. They look like little ballerinas to your tired eyes, pirouetting round and round and round. Hypnotizingly graceful.

The front door opens with a muted click.

Lazily, you tear your gaze away from the window. You do your best to glance over the back of the couch, your cheek pressing into the cushion, too comfortable to move, eyes half-lidded with sleep.

Your heart flutters at the sight in front of you though. Zayne stands in the foyer, pulling off his many layers of warm clothes with a startling lack of grace. Snow clings to his dark hair and coat, falling to the ground with each of his sluggish movements. The doctor looks tired. His eyes meet yours, dark and warm, hooded just like your own.

You lift the edge of your blankets. A silent invitation.

Zayne trudges across the living room, his steps uncharacteristically heavy. He takes off his glasses and leaves them on the table behind the couch. You smother a giggle when he practically collapses against you. It’s like having a large cat curl around you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck with a long, content sigh.

Resting your cheek against his hair, you tuck your blankets around his shoulders, murmuring a soft, “Hey, baby.”

The doctor lets out a low rumble in response, drawing you impossibly closer. You inhale sharply when he slips his hands under your sweater, his freezing cold fingers desperately seeking out the warmth of your skin. You shiver as they trace delicately along your waist, slotting in the tight space between you and the couch.

“Your fingers are freezing,” you whine, jarred from your sleepy state.

Of course you don’t actually mind, though. Not with Zayne. Not when he nuzzles so cutely into your neck, murmuring the most unapologetic apology you’ve ever heard, his voice low and raspy with exhaustion. A fuzzy kind of fondness washes over you.

“Long day?”

Zayne sighs, his breath tickling the sensitive skin of your throat, “I’ve slept only three hours in the past two days.”

Poor thing.

You feel a stab of pity for him. That might be the only drawback of winter, you suppose. Akso Hospital is always infinitely busier with this kind of weather. The snow always brings more accidents and Zayne always volunteers to work extra shifts when the need is dire, no matter the cost to his health. It’s something you love, but also something that worries you.

Brows furrowing, you card your fingers through his hair tenderly in hopes of helping him relax. It’s still a little damp from the snow. Zayne shivers when your nails trace over his scalp. Another shaky sigh escapes him when your hand dips under his collar to massage his nape. He practically melts under your touch, his weight pressing you deeper into the couch.

You’re not sure where the movie is now. The cup of hot cocoa on the side table is likely cold. But it’s hard to care. All you can focus on is Zayne. The steady rise and fall of his chest. The faint smell of jasmine hidden under the lingering scent of the hospital. The comforting weight of his body on top of yours.

Eyes fluttering shut, you nuzzle your face into his hair, hands going still around his shoulders. The two of you stay like that for what feels like hours, drifting in and out of sleep as the snow dances outside. It all feels so distant, your blankets hiding you from the cold, from the rest of the world. 

It’s just the two of you.

The two of you, in your shared apartment, always coming home to one another. Just like this.

Your heart warms at the thought. Nudging his forehead gently, you draw Zayne back just enough to see his face. He looks back at you with those hooded eyes, hazel depths brimming with a reverent affection. Biting back a smile, you lean down to kiss him. It’s a tender thing, a mere brush of your lips against his, featherlight and full of devotion. It leaves the both of  you aching yet content as you draw away.

“I love you,” you whisper, nose brushing his sweetly.

“I love you as well, my dear,” he hums, a flicker of a tired smile gracing his lips.

You can’t resist pressing another kiss to them, your own smile breaking through, “Go to sleep, baby. I’ll wake you when it’s time for dinner.”

Without an ounce of resistance, Zayne settles back against you, his head resting on your chest. The soft thrum of your heartbeat lulls him to sleep, the exhaustion finally catching up and pulling him under. You listen as his breathing evens out, deep and slow.

And while you mean to stay up, you can’t resist the warmth, the comfort of having him there with you.

Vaguely, you hear the credit song playing as you drift off into sleep.

---

I have such a thing for calling stoic men 'baby', I feel like it's so soft and cute and he'd honestly probably melt for it. Idk, maybe just me, please don't come for me in the comments.

[devotedfem]

∞ Siren

Synopsis: They say; be careful of what lurks in the deep waters, dangerous beings might lure you into your death. But you didn't listen to them, so you paid the price.

Park Jimin x f. reader

Genre: siren au | yander-ish

Tags: siren Jimin, yandere Jimin, naive reader, primal fear, luring you into the dark, predator/prey relationship, siren's voice, fear kink.

KOFI

From the series; otherworldly.

Navigation Masterlist.

You’ve always been curious, since you were a child curiosity won over you, that’s why your mother scolded you so much, saying that curiosity killed the cat. But you couldn’t help it, was it so wrong wanting to know the truth of things? You don’t think so.

You watched the beach with longing, by your side stood the siren warning sign, marking the line between safety and danger. If you were completely honest, you’ve never seen a siren in your life, and that was a lot considering your nosiness. But it was the truth, how would you fear something you’ve never seen?

It was growing dark in the beach, the water looked black ink now, it was an oddly beautiful sight, you always loved darkness.

You bit your bottom lip crossing tightly your arms with your brows slightly furrowed. Should you cross the line? The itch of curiosity was too strong to ignore and to not scratch. The salty air made you feel dizzy, you wanted so bad to succumb into your desire to explore the unknown.

You took a step ahead, then you took that same step back, indecisive.

Until you heard it.

A voice, sweet and melodic, calling for you.

You frowned confused, there was no one in the beach except you. So where did that voice come from?

A siren? No, you shake your head to yourself. You were behind the line, so siren’s magic couldn’t reach you.

And it called again.

“Come to the water sweet girl, get your feet a little wet. Don’t you want to have a little fun?” The singsong whisper traveled with the salty air, melting in your ears like honey. It sounded mischievous but sugary at the same time.

And the water looked so enticing. It wouldn’t hurt to get a little wet, just a little dip and then you return to your home and never come back to the beach.

And you did, coming closer to the water, dipping your feet in the beach shore, feeling the water wrapping softly your skin. You sighed happily to yourself.

Until you heard it again.

“Now, come a little closer, sink your knees, so you can feel the silky water on your legs. It’ll feel nice I promise.”

You frowned immediately, alarm bells ringing at the back of your head. You shouldn’t go that far away from the shore, but the voice woke something deep within you, you tried to stop your body from moving by planting your feet firm in the sand, but it didn’t work. Your legs moved like if they had a mind on their own. Your gaze blurred by tears, you were being lure into the waters and you can’t do anything about it.

Your sobs didn’t stop when the water was beneath your shoulders, you closed tightly your eyes with trembling lips, waiting for the worst to come. You hoped your mom wouldn’t be so disappointed on you, she was right, you were a stubborn brat.

“Open your pretty eyes sweetheart,” A sugary voice whispered in your ear, making you startled with fear.

You opened your eyes but saw nothing.

Until you felt arms wrapping around your waist and a head resting on your shoulder, you were freeze by primal fear, scared of moving and being eaten by the predator. But the man behind you only hummed, brushing his nose on the skin of your neck, sniffing you.

Then you started to scream and jerk from the sirens embrace, until a deep growl stopped you again, freezing the blood in your veins.

“Do not move.” It snarled, and you just cried harder.

A hand gripped your chin to turn your head to the side and face the man, and your breath hitched. Behind you was the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, with crescents eyes and blonde locks that looked otherworldly, you were enchanted by the sight. And he grinned with sharp teeth.

“Don’t be afraid of me. I promise you; I’ll make you very happy,” his lips mouthed your cheek softly, “you made the right choice by coming to me, you’ll never need them again, I will be the only thing you’ll need and breathe.” It was a dark oath, but your mind was too dizzy and drunk from his closeness to even think deeply about his words.

You felt his scaled tail between your legs, opening them. And his hot breath brushed your jaw, a rumble coming from his chest glued to your back.

And slowly, so, so slowly, you were sinking with him into the inked water wrapping you both like silk.

And then, he took you down, down.

You sinked.

Taglist:

@demonshauntingthedoves @pynkgothicka @cutequeen00 @nothingsreal420 @ririkookiemonster-archives

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Belle Mort || LN4

AN: this was deep in the archives of abandoned fics but figured I’ll just post it anyway.

Pairing: Lando Norris x vampire!fem!reader

Summary: Your paths weren’t meant to cross - he was a famous driver and your brethren were the thing of myths and nightmares.

Warnings: smut, major character death

He didn’t belong here.

You could only surmise Vinny let him in the club because he knew an easy target when he saw one. Rich, young and handsome - he was ripe for the taking. A part of you knew not to get involved but, unlike your brother, you had a small conscience, especially when it came to the pretty, blue-eyed man who had shared your bed.

Making your way across the busy dance floor of Belle Mort, you snaked between the women who were selling themselves to the richest man one sway of their hips at a time. You slapped away roaming hands that tried to pull you into their laps and glared at the men until they looked away with wounded egos.

Your brother spotted the target and you stepped lightly in your high heels as you dodged the revellers, finally making it in front of the handsome man. “Qu'est-ce que tu fais, garçon perdu?”

Lando smirked as he cast his eyes over your body, the tight fitted dress hiding very little of the body he knew intimately. “I don’t speak French.”

“I know.”

His hand caught your waist and pulled you closer, his lips brushing your cheek. “You didn’t call me.”

You rolled your eyes at the need that laced his words, but it would have been a lie to say you hadn’t thought about it. You had even kept his number when you should have deleted it. Your worlds were so far apart you didn’t see the point in making it more than a one night stand, it was safer that way. “I know. Find another bar.”

“I like this one.” His hand tightened and his thumb brushed over your ribs, tracing the curve under your breast. His smirk grew as he felt your ribs expand with the sharp intake of air you took.

“You’ve never been here before.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I own it.”

“Co-own, dear sister,” Nix added as he stepped to your side. “And if Lando wants to party then who are we to deny him.”

You narrowed your eyes at your brother. “It’s bad for business.”

“Why? Because you mixed it with pleasure,” he laughed as he ruffled your hair, cracking your neck as he pushed you away to leer at the man himself. “I can see the appeal. No one can deny you have good taste, it’s just a shame you always leave them broken.”

“What’s he talking about?” Lando asked as he helped keep you steady from your brother's push.

“Nix has always been jealous of me, haven’t you?” you taunted him. “Always wanted my dolls for himself.”

Nix’s jaw ticked and if the music wasn’t so loud you probably could have heard a tooth break. “Shouldn’t you be working?”

“I’m on a break,” you stated, catching Lando’s attention as you grabbed his wrist and started to drag him to your office before freezing. Your hand met bare skin and you held your hand out to your brother. “Give it back. Now.”

Nix rolled his eyes but reached into his pocket to return the watch he had easily lifted from Lando. The glass and diamond face slapped into your palm but you curled a brow at him and cleared your throat, waiting for the rest.

“You really used to be more fun,” he grumbled as he returned Lando’s wallet too. “Don’t worry, the condom is still in there.”

“And the cash?”

“I don’t think that is really your worry, but yes, cash too.”

Nix disappeared into the crowd and even you found it difficult to trace his movements but he was one of the fastest vampires you knew.

“Interesting family you have,” Lando commented as the music was cut off with your office door.

“You should be more careful,” you warned as you slid the security chain onto the latch. “This side of town could get a guy like you killed.”

“A guy like me?” he asked as he accepted the whiskey you poured, neat. “Handsome?”

“Well known,” you corrected, despite his knowing smirk. Of course you found him handsome, or else you wouldn’t have let him fuck you in the bathrooms of another nightclub in the city. You had a business meeting, with a wolf no less, and the owner had left you displeased, so you found another form of pleasure in his den. “Where you go, pictures are taken. That is bad for my business.”

Who knew what illegal activities those pictures or videos might capture and be uploaded. Voices had been silenced for less in the dark alleys around the club - but the bodies were never found.

Lando took a sip as he weighed your words of warning, but it didn’t stop him wanting to go another round with you. He knew you were different from the moment he saw you. Determination and strength rolled off you as you stalked through the club to a door labelled ‘staff only’. A different look of determination had been seen when you emerged, scanning the crowd for someone to use - he had come to the club for the same reason.

“I can be invisible, when I want to be,” he promised as he followed you to the desk you leaned back on, crossing your heeled ankles in front of you. He placed the glass on the wood beside you and smelt the smooth spirit on his breath when he kissed the corner of your lips. “But I wanted you to notice me, again.”

His hand ran down your thighs and your ankles uncrossed. He took the space given and parted your legs so he could step between them and steal your moan with his kiss. His tongue parted your lips with the same confidence he parted your legs and he hummed when your hands slipped under his shirt, your nails dragging down his spine.

“I’m going to fuck you on your desk and every time you have a meeting here you will think of me.”

Desire pooled between your thighs at the promise and when his fingers found your body bare beneath the dress he felt it slick and warm. “You like that idea don’t you?” he chuckled in your ear, the deep timber of his gravelled voice making you clench around his fingers before they withdrew from you. “Turn around.”

For a woman who considered herself to be the bossy one, you were quick to follow his instruction and it didn’t go amiss from the smirk on his face. “I don’t remember you being this demanding last time,” you said over your shoulder, feeling the air on your skin as he pushed your dress up over your hips.

“That’s because you looked like you needed it more than me.” He flipped his wallet open and pulled the condom out, tearing through the foil packaging before rolling it down his hard length. With one swipe of his arm he cleared space on your desk and started to push you down before he changed his mind and spun you to face him. “Actually, I want to see your face when I make you come.”

The mahogany wood was hard under your ass and you spread your knees for Lando to step between. His cock pressed to your entrance and he watched your lips part as he slowly began to stretch you, inch by inch, until he was fully sheathed inside you.

“You’re going to call me, aren’t you?” he asked with the teasingly slow retreat he made. He stopped just short of leaving you empty and made no move to fill you again. “I’m not going to fuck you until you answer me.”

You tried to shuffle your hips closer but he held them tight and your feet were off the ground so you couldn’t move, not without revealing your unnatural strength. Finally a frustrated sound left your lips and he smiled triumphantly when you agreed. “Now would you please fuck me?”

He answered with the snap of his hips and you moaned in unison as he filled you completely. The computer screen came to life and the mouse moved with the rocking desk and the cup of pens tipped over, scattering among the mess he had already made. Stars danced across your vision and your body pulsed with the deep bass that made it through the soundproof door.

“Lando,” you moaned as you tipped his head back, baring his neck as you felt your canines elongating behind your lips. The throb of his rapid pulse invited you to taste him and you dragged your nose over the vein, inhaling the rich scent hidden beneath his cologne. “You shouldn’t have come here.”

He shivered as your teeth grazed his skin but he was too far gone in his pleasure to question the sharp points. Just a little sip, you told yourself.

Lando gasped as pain flared, but just as quickly as it came it bled to a burn that felt better than any high he had ever had. He couldn’t breathe as you sucked at the puncture wounds, filling your belly with the same need you had for his cock.

He couldn’t explain how he found himself sat on the couch in your office with you on his lap, he had only blinked. You were high on him, making silly errors like using your speed and strength carelessly. You weren’t new to this life, but you were acting like it with him.

“Why did you come here?”

His head fell back and his eyes closed as you took your pleasure in riding him. He couldn’t think, there was only the tight feeling in all his muscles as his orgasm threatened to shatter him beneath you. “Just wanted you,” he choked as he bucked his hips up to meet you. “Again.”

You cried out as your climax peaked and Lando followed, unable to hold back with how tight you felt around him. Your head spun as the high receded, but you wanted more - it was the curse of immortality, you always wanted more.

You turned his head and struck again, lapping at the twin lines of life blood running down his collar. Cursing inwardly, you realised you were taking too much, you always took too much when you played with your food. Lando’s eyes fluttered shut and his breathing laboured, his skin fading before your eyes. Nix was right, you always left them broken.

“Fuck,” you growled at the thought of losing another man. Tearing the skin from your wrist you made what was possibly the second biggest mistake of your life, the first would always be asking for this life. Your blood was thicker and darker than his, staining his lips as you squeezed it out before the wound could heal.

“Wake up…” You prayed you weren’t too late, the seconds ticking by with quiet reassurance that time would continue to move on even if Lando never did again.

—

Nix crashed through the office door as dawn approached and the club closed. His black eyes found Lando’s body on the couch and a sneer carved across his lips. “What a waste.”

You barely lifted your head from your hands as you sat at your desk. You had felt lethargic from a full belly and drained veins. “I didn’t mean to.”

“You never do,” he snickered. “There will be people looking for him, I’ll have Vinny dump him in the marina - another rich boy who partied too hard.”

Lando gasped as he jolted upright, his eyes ringed red from the transformation, and a war waged within you. Rage exuded from Nix as he realised the danger you had put the entire coven in and his features sharpened as his fangs pierced his lips. “You would bring the Council down on our heads, sister?”

“I said I didn’t mean to. I just couldn’t stand to see another die because of my weakness.”

“I would rather you have just killed him.” Nix pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. To change a human required petitioning to the Council, and permits were rarely given this century - and certainly not to those well known. People tend to notice when someone doesn’t age at the same rate: Jennifer Anniston, Cillian Murphy, Paul Rudd, Joseph Gordon-Levitt. Those half breeds could get away with it for a little longer but they would soon be faking their own deaths to keep the secret of their heritage.

“Take him to the mountains,” Nix said as he crossed the room to where Lando writhed in pain on the carpet, the transition destroying his delicate human cells for something much more robust. “I’ll tie up the loose ends here.”

Nix took the car keys from Lando’s pocket and checked his watch. There was still enough time before dawn came to wreck the car off the cliffs and into the French Riviera. When the car was found empty they would assume his body was carried out to sea. Lando Norris was dead. Lando de Belle Mort had risen.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Eddie is desperate to speak to you about what you saw in the woods but with Harrington guarding you at every turn how was that possible?

Jealous Eddie, 18+, misunderstandings, protective Steve. Robin is done with all this shit.

Part one here

💌♥️

You spend your time at Family Video trying to distract yourself from ever thinking you and Eddie could be something in the first place. It's hard though because at unexpected times the kiss will creep back into your mind and you were swept back into your deep feelings for Eddie once again.

It wasn't like there was an on or off switch to turn off how you felt. If only it was that easy.

Steve has been amazing, he's comforted you since you went into Family Video, tear filled eyes and lip trembling as you explained to him and Robin what happened.

The thing about Steve is since he's changed dramatically in the last few years, grown into a better man thanks to a knock on the head from various people (Nancy, Robin, You, Dustin and all the other little shits) he's also become more protective of everyone he cares about.

So seeing you teary eyed and that little pout on your face has sent all of his protective instincts going haywire, he can never resist a pout and puppy eyes-something the kids have picked up on and used to their advantage.

He's determined to do anything to protect you from Eddie hurting you even more, and it's not like he disliked the guy, Munson was cool. Hurt his friends though and any good will he had disappeared fast.

It doesn't help his irritation when Eddie is constantly everywhere he looks, he's driving you and Robin to school and Munson is watching with a pained expression.

Serves you right dickhead. He thinks to himself and wraps his around you, comfortingly when you freeze as you see Eddie.

The anguished expression on Eddie's face darkens into something else and he zeroes in on Steve's hand that is gently rubbing your shoulder.

Steve doesn't think it's the last he's seen of Munson, if his expression is any indication then he expects Eddie won't keep his feelings quiet for very long.

...

It takes less than a day for Eddie to show up at the store. You're working with Steve and watching IT to pass the long work day away.

"You know this feels so familiar" Steve smirks at you and you can't help but laugh, kids banding together to fight an ancient evil, it rings a few bells.

Eddie looks between you and Harrington, jealousy bubbles in his stomach and he grips the video he's holding tightly. Inside jokes, the two of you had inside jokes.

He swears under his breath, curses himself that he fucked up so badly. Wishes he could explain to you and tell you that Chrissy didn't mean anything, she was nervous getting weed for the first time and he just wanted to make her feel comfortable.

The only person he wanted was you but you had gotten things totally wrong. The jealousy twists in his gut again when Steve gently nudges your side as the two of you laugh over something.

He's itching to go up and talk to you but how could he when Harrington was like a guard dog.

Robin sidles up to him, returning tapes, she narrows her eyes at Eddie as he looks at her pleadingly all puppy eyed and pouty.

"Don't you do that look Munson, I'm as pissed at you as Steve is and I swear if you're hanging around to just break a certain someone's heart again then I'm borrowing Steve's bat and...' Eddie manages to intervene before she passes out from lack of oxygen.

"No, shit, that's not why I'm here Buckley. I came to apologise, beg for forgiveness. I am not interested in Chrissy. I've been crazy about princess for months and I'm kicking myself that I've messed things up" Robin deflates and softens just a tiny bit.

"Well why haven't you apologised?" she exclaims and then she turns around to look at Steve and sighs. "Yeah, it's not ideal when Steve is in "protective mode" but suck it up Munson" Eddie swallows feeling thoroughly chastised.

Suck it up and get his princess back. He could do that.

💞

Eddie doesn't come back to Family Video after his talk with Robin. The thought sours your mood because you guess he really doesn't care that you're hurting.

Or Robin and Steve have collectively scared him off.

Maybe he really did have chemistry with Chrissy and he would rather pursue her. The least he could do is tell you so you weren't surprised one day when he walked into Family Video with her.

Robin is talking about Vickie and asking you and Steve about ideas for a movie date, you're distracted as Eddie comes in. Your heart skips a beat and his big brown eyes are full of nerves as he walks up to you.

Pissed off and despite yourself really missing Eddie you concentrate on rewinding the tapes that people had brought back. Ugh, be kind, rewind. It was right there on the video cover, there were so many tapes to do and that was annoying you as well.

♥️

It really was time for you and Eddie to talk. Steve looks reluctant as you head over but you assure him you'll be fine.

"We need to talk, I'll be okay Steve. Promise" he nods but is still glaring at Eddie, his gaze darkening even more when Eddie approaches.

"Do not fuck this up Munson or you'll have me to answer to" Eddie nods, his gaze is still on you.

Robin rolls her eyes as she looks between him and Eddie and gently pushes Steve back behind the counter. "Come on Steve, don't be a dingus and let them talk it out" Eddie throws a grateful smile Robin's way.

Once you're alone with Eddie he immediately launches into what he's been itching to say, he trips over his words a few times but he's desperate for you to understand that he's in no way interested in Chrissy, not one bit.

Eddie shakes his head. "I don't want Chrissy, I'm not interested in her, she is sweet but she's just my friend and she's not you. I was goofing around when you saw us talking because she was nervous, it was her first time getting weed and I just wanted her to relax sweetheart, the only "spark" I feel is with you"

You smile feeling the stirrings of relief build up inside you. "I've been trying to tell you all week princess but I didn't want to fuck up any more and well, Steve hasn't exactly let me anywhere near you" he looks past you to Steve and you squeeze his hand.

"He's just protective that's all" you soften as you gaze at him, can sense that he's worrying, "Eddie there's nothing between me and Steve, he's my friend that's all" Eddie nods and brightens considerably.

"As long as Harrington knows that" you roll your eyes amused as Eddie straightens and tries to look intimidating to Steve.

"Yes he does, we're friends Eddie. He's just as protective of Robin" Eddie nods and presses a kiss to your head.

"I've missed you sweetheart" you lean into him and his arms wrap around you. You've missed him like crazy, "Maybe we could try this again princess? A proper date?" You nod and press a gentle kiss to his lips leaving you both a bit dazed but smiling happily at each other that everything is going to be okay.

♥️

[daisynik7]

Warm on a Cold Night

Pairing: Takuma Ino x f!reader

Word Count: ~3.5k

cw: fluff, canon universe, alcohol consumption, Ino and reader are both in their early 20s, suggestive (blink and it’s gone), mentions of minor injuries, love confessions

Summary: You and Ino learn all the different ways to keep each other warm on a cold night in Tokyo. 

Author’s Note: Inspired by the song Warm on a Cold Night by Honne. I’ve always loved this song and it gives me major winter vibes. Thought it’d be cute to imagine it with our boyfriend Ino. Enjoy! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune. Tagging @kodzukein @crlyhairedwxtch @chicken-fifi @thisisnotashley @saerotonins @batafuraikisu @kentoslvt @rxmbzzz @yoshikasworld, thank you for the interest in this ♥️ also tagging my fellow ino lover @antique-remains, I hope you like this :)

On the first of December, Takuma Ino walks into his favorite Korean barbeque restaurant down the street from his humble studio apartment. His stomach grumbles with hunger; he hasn’t eaten since breakfast, right before he met with Nanami in Ginza to exorcise curses in an abandoned department store. As soon as he made it back home, he collapsed on the couch and fell asleep without meaning to. Now, he hustles, feet shuffling on the pavement, beanie pulled over his ears, though the crisp air still bites his skin. He knows it’s going to be packed on a Friday night such as this. He isn’t sure how long he can last, given how starving he is. He slips inside anyways, the familiar bell ringing above him announcing his presence, ready to try his luck. As predicted, the tables are all occupied. Fortunately, there’s only one other person waiting. 

You sit on the chair next to the hostess stand, scrolling through your phone. There’s a ding and rush of breeze as the door swings open. Glancing up on instinct, your eyes meet his and you give him a cordial smile. He nods, acknowledging you. Yuki, the hostess, greets him happily, recognizing him. “Ino!”

“Hey Yuki!” he grins. “Table for one, please.”

She does a brief scan of the restaurant. “Fifteen minutes, okay?”

“Cool.” He takes the empty seat beside you, shaking his knees, rubbing his hands together, breathing into his palms. “Chilly out there,” he says to no one in particular. 

Yuki doesn’t seem to hear him, walking away to tend to customers. Feeling obligated to answer out of politeness, you agree. “Yeah, freezing.”

“It smells so good in here, I can’t wait to eat. I’m absolutely starving.” He rubs his belly, slouching in his seat. “This type of weather always makes me crave Korean barbeque. I guess everyone has the same idea.”

He’s a chatty fellow, though you don’t mind it. He seems friendly enough, so you entertain him. “This weather is a good excuse to grill meat over a fire. And maybe warm up with a few shots of soju.”

“Now that sounds like a great idea. I could definitely use a drink.” He couldn’t finish an entire bottle himself, just a taste wouldn’t be so bad, right? If only he had someone to share it with.

Another breeze sweeps through as a couple exits the restaurant, hand-in-hand, snuggled in their long coats and scarves. Yuki approaches you with a menu in her hands. “Your table is ready!”

You stand up, ready to follow her. “Enjoy your meal!” Ino calls out.

Something clicks in your brain; you’re not exactly sure why you decide to do this. Maybe deep down, you pity the guy who has to wait another fifteen minutes to eat. Or maybe you want some company on a cold night like tonight. Whatever the reason is, you end up blurting out, “Want to join me?” 

Pleasantly surprised and too famished to deny the offer, he hops out of his chair. “Are you sure?”

You shrug, grinning at him. “Yeah. It’s always more fun with friends, right?”

He can’t argue with that. There’s a strange glow that begins to surround his chest at those words. This might be the fastest friend he’s ever made, and his stomach is more than grateful. They walk together to the table, sitting across from one another, avoiding each other’s gaze while Yuki fires up the grill. Before she leaves, you place an order for appetizers and a bottle of strawberry soju to share. 

Quick to fill the silence, Ino asks, “Do you come here often?”

You shake your head, looking at the plate and utensils in front of you. “I moved in nearby and found this place online. Decided to give it a shot tonight.”

“Well, you’re in for a treat! This is the best Korean barbeque in the neighborhood. I take my mentor out here from time-to-time and even he likes it. And he’s a hard one to please.” He shrugs his beanie off, revealing messy brown hair that you happen to find adorable. Your gaze lingers for a second longer than you intend because when he catches you, he runs his fingers through his brunette locks to fix it. “I wear this all day long, so my hair is probably a mess right now. Sorry.”

You smile at him. “There’s nothing to apologize for. I like your hair. It’s cute.”

He blushes, rubbing the nape of his neck, murmuring a quiet, “Thank you.” He clears his throat nervously, flushed despite not having a single drop of alcohol in him yet. 

The liquor and appetizers come out shortly. Ino gives you the honors to break the seal, handing you his glass to pour his serving. You cheers with a clink, sinking the first shot easily. It’s smooth going down your throat and you start to ease up in his presence. While you wait for the meat to arrive, you both indulge in corn cheese and the standard fair of banchan, continuing your small talk. He’s cryptic with what he does for a living, unsure how to explain Jujutsu Sorcery to a stranger. You’re honest about your office job, claiming it isn’t the most glamorous. It’s enough for you to be content in life. 

When the meat is served, Ino volunteers to grill it, which you happily let him. He cooks each piece to your liking, plopping it on your plate as he finishes. In between, you continue to take shots until you’re near the last drops of soju. Conversation flows easier with alcohol and yummy food mixed in. Whatever awkward tension there was in the beginning has since faded. It also helps that Ino is naturally a cheerful person who’s easy to talk to. You find yourself enjoying his company more and more as the night progresses. The bitter cold outside is completely forgotten as your cheeks swelter from the sweet soju and smoke surrounding you. The charming smile of the man across the table also contributes to the ember kindling inside you. You wonder if he’s enjoying this as much as you are. You hope that he is. 

Ino’s thankful for the puffs of smoke that obscure him. If not for that, it would be completely obvious how fond of you he is. He hasn’t stopped grinning since you first clinked glasses an hour ago. There’s a tiny part of him that wishes this night wouldn’t end. 

It's only when Yuki approaches you, informing that it’s last call for the kitchen, that you realize you’re the only remaining customers in the restaurant. You’re both stuffed, barely picking at the last bits of banchan, chatting about nightlife in the area. Ino mentions a karaoke bar down the block that he likes going to with his friends. “You should join us sometime,” he suggests, nonchalant. 

Your heart pounds at the invitation; you convince yourself it’s merely a friendly gesture, nothing more. “I’d really like that.”

He hands you his phone, his fingers grazing yours as you accept it. “Let’s exchange numbers. I’ll text you the next time we go out.” A jolt of excitement rushes through his veins at the contact. He yearns for more of it, though he knows it wouldn’t be appropriate to continue touching her, so he twiddles his thumbs beneath the table as he watches you type in your contact information. The next opportunity is immediately after, when the bill comes and both of you reach for it at the same time, Ino’s hand on top of yours, squeezing you gently, trying to pry the check from under you. This time, his entire body is buzzing with electricity, blazing every inch of his skin with a pleasant heat he’s unfamiliar with. 

You smile at him, letting him hold you, relishing his touch. “How about I get this one and you get the next one?”

“I can’t let you pay on the first date. It’s against my morals,” he insists, shaking his head.

You smirk, raising a brow at him. “Oh, so this is a date now?” 

He chuckles, thumb brushing your skin delicately. “I don’t know. But whatever it is, I’d like to do it again with you.” 

You bite your lip, holding back a giggle. “Promise you’ll call me and I’ll let you pay for the next one. Deal?”

It takes him a minute to contemplate, then he eventually agrees. “Deal.” 

You bid Yuki and the rest of the staff farewell on your way out. Ino slips the beanie back onto his head then helps you into your coat. As soon as the door opens, your face tingles from the frigid air and you immediately want to retreat back inside with Ino, but you know you can’t. He walks beside you down the street, fingers less than inches apart from yours. His hands are already freezing; he wants to hold you to feel that warmth again, but he knows he shouldn’t. 

When it’s time for him to go his separate route and you to go yours, you face him, the chill coming out as wisps from your mouth. “Thank you for a fun night.” 

“Thank you too. I’ll call you.” Would it be so bad to lean closer? To feel your lips on his? 

You drift towards him, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. It radiates throughout his entire body and suddenly, he’s almost feverish in this icy weather. He’s flustered, repeating, “I’ll call you, okay?” 

Reluctantly, you turn to walk in the opposite direction while Ino stands there watching you, touching his cheek with a goofy grin on his face. 

The cold isn’t so bad the rest of his way home.

~~~

A week later, Ino invites you out to karaoke with him and his friends. As expected, they are as friendly and easy-going as he is, so they welcome you with open arms. His buddy Takashi currently sings a power ballad, belting it out with his whole heart into it and sweat beading on his forehead while the rest of the group cheers for him. Ino sits beside you, leaning in close to make sure you hear him through the noise, breath hot on your ear. “Are you having fun?” 

You face him, noses nearly touching. “I’m having lots of fun.”

“Good,” he smiles. “I’m really happy you’re here.” He lingers on your lips. He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you since that first night, when you kissed him on the cheek. He swears he can still feel the heat from it. What would it be like if you kissed the other parts of him? How cozy would he be from your gentle kisses? Before he gets caught up in the moment and makes a dumb decision, he pulls back, distracting himself by flipping through the song catalogue. From his peripheral, he notices you studying him intently. You don’t say anything, eventually going back to watching the performances. 

At the end of your session, you bid farewell to his friends. Ino offers to walk with you halfway towards your homes, pausing at the same spot you did a week ago. “Well,” you start, “Thank you for another great night.”

“Thank you too.”

There’s a tense silence, neither uncomfortable nor awkward. It’s just there, palpable and heavy in the air between you. As if you’re both waiting for either of you to say the one thing you’re both thinking. 

He catches on quick. “Want to come over?”

You agree immediately, beaming as you follow him to his apartment complex. He unlocks the door, beckoning you inside. “Sorry it’s so cold in here. The insulation in this apartment is the worst.” He stands above a space heater, clicking it on to the highest setting, carrying it towards the couch. “It’ll warm up soon, give it a minute.”

You sit, scanning the room, noticing the few trinkets he has scattered as decor. Gaming consoles neatly tucked inside the TV stand. Framed pictures displayed on a bookshelf of him and his friends you just met, some with who you assume is his family. There are a couple of posters hanging on his walls, one of a cult classic movie you’ve heard about but never watched, another of unique artwork that catches your attention with vibrant colors. His bed is several feet behind you, the sheets twisted, mostly barren. You shiver in your seat, fully understanding what he meant when he said that the insulation is the worst here. 

He returns with a fleece blanket in his hands, taking his place beside you. “Sorry. It’s like a refrigerator in here,” he jokes, laying it over the both of you. The space heater must finally be kicking in because now, you’re almost too hot, sharing this intimate space with Ino right next to you, his knee brushing yours, shoulders touching. He reaches for the remote, turning the TV on. “So, what are you in the mood for?” He begins listing genres of movies. “Action, horror, comedy…?”

You don’t let him finish, snuggling closer to him, peering into his eyes. “How about romance?”

He laughs, licking his lips, gazing at yours. “That’s exactly what I was thinking too.”

You meet him for a kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in deeper. His hands are gentle, caressing your back while his tongue explores your mouth. Soon, you shrug the covers off, sweltering beneath him as he surrounds you, trailing your neck, moving to your ear, whispering, “I’ve been thinking about you all week.”

“Me too,” you breathe out, ready to strip out of your clothes.

“Not yet,” he purrs, nipping at your ear lobe. “I want to take my time with you.”

And so he does, making love to you slowly, cherishing every inch of you. You’re supple beneath him, yielding to every kiss, every lick, every gentle touch he graces you with. You moan into his mouth as his fingers move swiftly between your legs, pleasuring you until you’re stirring with ecstasy. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, calling you endearing pet names that make you putty in his grip. Sweetheart, beautiful, my good girl. It rolls off his tongue naturally, as if the two of you were meant to be like this from the very start. You’ve never been treasured like this by anyone else.

When he’s inside you, his cheeks are flushed, expression hazy, nose nuzzled to yours. You watch him carefully, marveling at his toned physique, running your fingers through his soft hair, tugging lightly at the strands. He smiles at you, blushing. “I’m so into you, it’s crazy.”

You trace his lips with your thumb. “I’m so into you too, Ino.”

He smooches the pad of your finger. “Takuma. Please call me Takuma.”

Giggling, you tease, “How about Taku?”

“You can call me whatever you want, as long as I’m yours,” he answers, stilling his movements.

You kiss him passionately, squeezing him in a tight embrace. “You’re all mine, Taku. And I’m all yours.”

It sounds crazy to be so smitten with someone you barely met after only a week. It is crazy. But something about him excites you, ignites a spark in you. It’s enough that you want to give whatever this is a fighting chance. 

~~~

Ino hobbles out of the train station, limping slightly on one foot, a prominent gash across his cheek that has since clotted from the cold, January air. His beanie is scorched at the top, his sweater ripped at the sleeves, and aside from the obvious cut on his face, it’s dusty with soot and debris, all from the aftermath of today’s battle. He’s a mess right now; it’s been a rough night, exorcising a grade 2 curse in Harajuku. Nanami offered to accompany him back to Jujutsu High to get patched up by Ieiri, but Ino insisted he’s fine, not wanting to appear weak in front of his mentor. 

Halfway on his route home, he stops, contemplating for a good minute before turning on his heel and heading the opposite direction, towards your house. Rather than being alone and cold in his dinky, lonely apartment, he’d much rather be with you. His warm, wonderful girlfriend.

It’s been more than a month now since you started dating, and so far, it’s been going great. Ino can’t remember connecting to someone this well before. Maybe he never has until you. So, when he climbs two flights of stairs up to your apartment, wincing step-by-step because of his sore ankle, he reminds himself that all of this is worth it just to see your bright, shining face tonight.

He knocks quietly on your front door, leaning against it, sighing with exhaustion. It doesn’t take you long to answer, greeting him with your sunny demeanor. As soon as you notice the cut on his cheek and his tattered clothes, your expression turns wary. You pull him inside gently, asking, “What happened?”

He tries to chuckle, which results in him coughing instead, each breath sharp in his chest. “Overtime,” he rasps, flashing you a weak grin. He doesn’t realize how freezing he is until now, enveloped by the residual heat inside your apartment and the presence of you. 

Despite his poor attempt at a joke, you still return his smile, indulging him, not pestering him with any more questions. Ino revealed the truth about his profession two weeks ago, and while you’re still not entirely certain of every aspect of Jujutsu Sorcery, you’re aware enough to recognize the type of danger he faces in order to protect society. The least you could do is keep him warm on a cold winter night. 

You grab the nearest blanket, covering him in it. His beanie is ruined, a giant hole at the top, exposing his brown hair. You remove it, inspecting his face carefully, taking note of the dirt on his skin and the wound on his cheek. He stares at you with tired eyes, this close to falling asleep. You plant a smooch on his forehead, whispering, “Don’t worry, Taku. I’ll take care of you.”

He sinks into the cushions, letting himself relax amidst the soft fabric. Not only is it toasty, it also smells exactly like you, putting him at ease. He’s never been taken care of like this since he was a little kid. He doesn’t remember how nice it is to have someone to lean on.

You remove his sneakers, the soles almost rubbed completely raw from overuse, tossing them with the rest of your shoes by the front door. In the your bedroom, you search your drawers for the first aid kit and cleaning wipes. In the kitchen, you start a kettle of water for tea, something comforting to soothe him. When you return to him, his eyes are half-lidded, head lolling on one shoulder, on the verge of sleep. You giggle, sitting beside him, patting his knee. “Poor baby.”

He nods lazily, turning to face you. “Yes, I am. You know what will make it all better?”

You pull a wipe from the container, carefully cleaning his face. “What?”

“A kiss,” he smirks, pouting his lips.

So cheeky, even when he’s spent, you can’t help but laugh. You use a second wipe to completely remove the grime on his skin, particularly around the cut. “I’ll kiss your boo-boo once it’s all bandaged up. Deal?"

He exhales deeply, satisfied. “Deal.”

This time, you use an alcohol wipe to disinfect the cut first, blowing on it to reduce the sting. Ino sucks in a breath, handling it as best as he can. With a cotton swab and gloves on, you apply the ointment meticulously, making sure not to miss any spots. Then, with gauze and heavy-duty bandages, you finish treating him, happy with your work. 

He watches your every move intently, touched by the amount of care you put into this. His heart races; he’s never been this precious to someone else. He swallows hard, holding your hand in his. “I love you,” he confesses, waiting for your reaction. 

You blink at him twice, in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

He nods slowly. “Yes. I am seriously in love with you.”

“You love me?” you stutter, chest pounding. 

He presses his forehead to yours. “I love you.”

Your throat is tight, struggling to get the words out, the ones that have been lingering on your mind for the past couple of weeks now. “I love you too, Taku.” It’s easy, natural. 

He closes the gap, kissing you, lips soft against yours. And it doesn’t matter that his head is throbbing, that his muscles are aching, or that the tea pot on the stove is whistling it’s high-pitched tune. All that matters in this moment is that the two of you love each other and that you’ll be basking in one another for the rest of your lives. 

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 140 }

love letter of flowers.

jinwoo sung x florist.fem!reader

lately, there has been a handsome young man who frequented at your flower shop.

he was well dressed, always appearing within the cozy confines of your quaint little shop while in a pristine suit. with his ebony locks of hair falling across his features in gentle waves coupled along with grey eyes that seemed to shine beneath the sunlight, perfectly mirroring his emotions...

you found that you couldn't look away from him, even if you tried.

he had been visiting your shop daily for roughly a month now, with him buying the most extravagant of bouquets for someone you assumed that he loved a great deal. for some odd reason, just the thought of him already having a lover made your chest ache.

despite the bouquets he had purchased being chosen and crafted by your own loving touch, it made you yearn for a type of love this man and his beloved had. truly, the he had to be absolutely crazy about his girlfriend to buy her such gorgeous bouquets every single day.

as you were caught up in your reveries, you find yourself breaking out of your daydreams when the sounds of chiming bells alerts you to an incoming customer. as you trail your eyes toward the entrance, you felt your heart skip beats once more, seeing him again-

sung jinwoo.

he greets you with a kind smile before looking over at your collection of bouquets. curious as to what he was going to choose, you steadily head over to your cash register and keep sneaking glances at him.

after a few minutes of consideration, he chooses the bouquet he was going to gift, which had to be the most expensive one yet: a rainbow bouquet of roses consisting of bright petals shaded in a variety of colors.

your throat seems to close up in response to this man's dedication, ringing up the bouquet while tying a neat bow against its cellophane wrapping.

"your girlfriend must be lucky to have you." you find yourself telling him casually, trying to hide those stupid emotions that were felt bubbling within your chest.

"excuse me?"

hearing the absolute confusion within his voice makes you freeze and do a double take. gathering your courage, you look back up at him with a tilt of your head.

"you come in here every day to buy a bouquet... isn't it for your lover?"

after hearing your explanation, you felt your cheeks turn hotter in response to the sounds of his laughter. your assumptions seemed incredibly amusing to him, as he spent the next several minutes laughing all while trying to catch his breath.

"hahaha, y-you're so funny, haha..." you watch as jinwoo wipes the tears from his eyes, finally calming down before confessing to you.

"all of these bouquets are gifts for my mom... she..." he trails off, appearing shy all of a sudden as he rubs the back of his neck with a hand. "she was a victim to the eternal sleep disease, and she woke up not too long ago. i didn't want to take her for granted anymore, so i decided to spoil her whenever i could now that she's awake and well."

a sense of guilt was felt coursing through you, and you felt incredibly selfish for actually feeling envious over this whole ordeal. this man standing before you was not only incredibly beautiful on the outside-

but perhaps more so than that was the beauty he held on the inside, with you knowing that he had an unconditional kindness settled deep within his heart and soul.

as if he could read your thoughts, jinwoo gives you a lazy grin. "was there a reason why you brought this up?"

"n-no! no reason at all!" you take his debit card then and insert it into your card reader, taking his payment for the bouquet that had always been meant for his mother. you really hoped that jinwoo didn't catch on, or had any suspicions to your words-

but something about the look in his eyes made you think that he had probably known all along.

wanting to do something to make up for your asinine assumptions, you call out to jinwoo just as he held the newly purchased and precious bouquet within his arms.

"if you could wait a moment, sir, i- i have something for you."

jinwoo stops walking and gives you a gentle nod. as you go back to the aisles of your shop, your eyes finally land on the single bloom that you had been looking for:

a red carnation, to convey how much i admire him.

holding the red carnation gingerly within your hand, you tie a slender white ribbon over its stem before giving it to jinwoo.

"here, this one is on the house, just for... you know, your daily visits, and the fact that you're sweet enough to buy a bouquet for your mother every single day and all."

were your eyes playing tricks on you, or was it due to the lighting of your shop? because you swore you saw jinwoo's pale cheeks take on an almost rosier hue the moment he accepts your carnation.

"t-thank you. i'm not doing much, but i do want to make my mother happy."

giving him a nod, you wave goodbye to him the moment he leaves your store, letting out a dreamy sigh as you kept your gaze on him, never once straying away from him until the moment you could no longer see his retreating back.

{ ... }

it wasn't until much later that you realized just who sung jinwoo truly was-

and such realization came in the form of his supposed fans waiting for him to arrive to your flower shop as they seemed to linger outside of its periphery.

in fact, even jinwoo himself was caught off guard by those people who considered themselves a huge part of his fanbase. he seemed hesitant, and although the voices sounded muffled, you could hear bits and pieces of the conversation as you understood the gist of what was going on.

those people were absolutely smitten with jinwoo.

deciding to do a quick search of his name, you figured that he would be some minor celebrity due to some charity work he had done (because even the heavens know that the man has the heart to do so!)

so when his name popped up, and you saw his title as being yet another s-rank hunter within korea, you felt your mind go dizzy in response.

this explained how jinwoo was able to afford purchasing a new bouquet for his mother every day, with his card never seeming to decline. in fact, s-rank hunters were practically considered celebrities here-

and you felt your courage in admitting your feelings for him shrivel up in response to this newfound fact.

because you knew that you would never be able to bask in the same world as him, being labeled as a mere civilian who had no special abilities that could even survive the gates that would randomly appear, let alone fight in them.

so you continue watching the fans as they surround jinwoo with a sigh, yet, it seemed as though their interactions had taken on a bit of a stranger tone. jinwoo kept his hands upright, shaking his head at every phone and notebook that was pointed at him. he keeps gesturing at you and says a few words to them.

and oh, if you only knew that you were most likely going to have one of the busiest days of your life.

immediately, his haul of fans rush into your shop, taking bouquets and singular flowers alike as they lined up to purchase what you had to offer. despite how overwhelming the sudden influx of customers were, you were able to accurately sell the bouquets and flowers jinwoo's fans had purchased.

this went on for a few hours, and once the last of your customers had left, you were left looking at how your sales had practically doubled thanks to jinwoo. by the end of it all, your hair was left in a bit of a mess, with those loose strands falling out of your ponytail.

as you were trying to catch your breath, you hear the sounds of jinwoo's rich chuckles as he slides up towards your counter, this time with a simple bouquet of white lilies in his hand. you give him a look of suspicion, your chest practically heaving up and down in tune with your labored breaths when you shakily ask, "w-what did you do?"

a wide grin paints his handsome features as he lets out a hum while saying your name. "i don't know what you're talking about."

you purposely arch an eyebrow at him in response. "you're telling me that you had nothing to do with the sudden influx of people that nearly purchased my entire stock?"

jinwoo scratches at the tip of his nose in response, completely amused by the feign accusation in your voice. "well... i may have told them that i wouldn't take a selfie with them, or sign their notebooks if they didn't buy at least one item from your shop."

a sudden warmth was felt spreading across your chest when you ask with a bit of a tremor in your voice, "isn't that... kind of illegal?"

he hums and shakes his head, "i don't think so. after all, they were all loitering in front of your shop waiting for me... and i couldn't allow them to cause such an inconvenience to you without doing something about it."

"after all..." he suddenly leans closer to you, with his hands softly brushing back your hair as you felt your heart skipping beats in response when he tells you, "it was all my fault... they came here waiting for me, so... i took advantage of the situation to help you out, instead."

you were left speechless, unable to say a word when jinwoo hands you his debit card once more. as usual, you ring up the card and wrap another ribbon around the bouquet, and this time, you already had in mind what flower you wished to give him as a simple gift.

a pale pink ranunculus, as proof of how much i am enchanted by the sheer radiance of him.

you find the perfect bloom still settled amidst its sisters, happy that your patrons hadn't touched such a uniquely beautiful yet simple flower. giving him a shy smile, you place the pastel pink bloom on top of his bouquet of white lilies, basking in his smile.

he gives you another wave goodbye, promising to see you again the next day as you found your heart racing with anticipation.

when he leaves was when you allow your smile to disappear, turning solemn as you thought about how slim of a chance you had with him. despite how you knew that your heart was turning soft with feelings of love for him, you didn't wish to acknowledge such emotions-

because someone as bright and brilliant like jinwoo would never even spare you a second glance.

yet despite how deep down you knew you would never be able to admit your feelings for him, that didn't mean that you would stop conveying them to him-

after all, the least you could do was give him a love letter of flowers each time he came by.

{ ... }

jinwoo couldn't bring himself to allow the single flowers you had given him to die out. using his own hidden abilities as the shadow monarch, he manages to keep them in perfect condition, placing each colorful bloom within a large vase that was filled with water colored a gentle, violet hue.

he keeps such flowers separate from the extravagant bouquets he gives his mom, not even telling her or jinah of their existence. ever since he came across the beautiful woman's quaint little flower shop, he was quite enamored with her.

he would never admit such a thing to those closest to him, but he actually had a silly, ulterior motive to buying bouquets for his mother every day-

and that was to see you again, the beautiful florist who managed to capture his heart with your kindness and curious gaze.

with sigh, he spends the next hour or so simply admiring the single blooms you had given him, allowing his hand to gently caress at each petal, imagining the feel of your lips being just as soft.

"my king, if i could please have your attention."

jinwoo trails his gaze over to igris, one of his most loyal and trusted soldiers. he blinks at the former blood-red commander and gives him a nod, "what is it, igris?"

igris clears his throat while reading a book that had a picture of flowers on them. "may i ask what flowers your beloved has given you?"

"w-what- she's not my-"

"i apologize for the bluntness of my words, my king, but i must know. will you tell them to me?"

jinwoo sighs and carefully takes the precious flowers out of the vase while placing them on his desk.

a red carnation-

pink ranunculus-

pale pink carnation-

red chrysanthemum-

purple tulip-

a pink bluebell.

a deep chuckle was heard from igris as his chest seemed to puff out with pride.

"my king, if you look at the marked pages of this book of flowers and their meanings, you will come to realize that such blooms were were meant to signify that woman's love and devotion to you."

his eyes became wider, and the young hunter could feel his heart pounding from within his throat as igris places the book into his hands. sure enough, as jinwoo read the pages, he was able to piece together the hidden meaning from within each flower.

a red carnation for a deep admiration,

pink ranunculus as proof of someone's enchantment,

pale pink carnation for a new love

red chrysanthemum for a passionate love

purple tulip for a perfect love,

and a pink bluebell, to signify an everlasting love-

jinwoo quickly looks at the time before closing his eyes, searching through the consciousness of one of the soldiers he had placed with you as he saw you locking up your shop while standing on the sidewalk.

"exchange."

before igris would even utter a word, beru was left settled at the desk where his king once sat. the former ant king gives his colleague a look of confusion from suddenly reappearing within his king's room, causing igris to simply shrug in response.

"it seems as though our king has been caught up in the throes of love. we should let him be and wait for his return... with his queen."

{ ... }

you felt a sudden shift in the air the moment you left your shop, shivering slightly when you turn around and was met with the sudden appearance of jinwoo himself.

"wha- jinwoo?!"

he seemed unfazed by the look of panic in your eyes, dressed casually in a white t-shirt and sweatpants. you saw that he now wore simple converses as he takes casual steps closer to you.

upon closer inspection, jinwoo seemed to be blushing, becoming so prominent as even the tip of his ears was flushed as well.

"how did you get here... were you always here?"

jinwoo swallows thickly, running a hand through his hair before letting out a sigh, "you could say that... but, that's not what i'm here for."

before you could ask him what he meant, he goes straight into it while telling you, "those flowers you had given me these past couple of days- you know, as little 'gifts?' yeah, i...i finally know what they all mean."

you froze completely when he mentioned the free flowers you had given him and how he knew their meaning. moving your hands up and down your arms to stave off the sudden chill you felt, you act completely oblivious. "w-what? i don't know what you're talking about. i mean, those were j-just pretty and cute flowers that i gifted for you!"

"a deep admiration..." jinwoo begins to speak in a bit of a trance, "feeling enchanted by me; a new, passionate and perfect love- an everlasting love."

you found yourself waiting with bated breath, not able to move even when he approaches you, placing a hand on your cheek while softly caressing at your skin. "that was the message you wished to convey to me this whole time...?"

your heart was racing once more, feeling your gaze narrowing at him when he inches closer to you. "y-yes... it's true..."

"hm..." he trails off, yet you could see the wide grin that spreads across his lips when he places a hand against your chin, keeping you still as his hot breath was felt tickling at your lips.

"i'm glad to know that you feel the same way. and don't get me wrong, i have every intention of taking you out on a date while claiming you as my girlfriend. but first-

i really want to kiss you right now."

your eager nod and the way you let out a dreamy sigh was all the confirmation jinwoo needed to press his lips against yours in a perfect kiss, making you feel grateful that your love letter managed to reach him after all-

(regardless of the fact that jinwoo needed some help to finally understand the message you were trying to convey 💐)

a.n. - it’s about time i wrote a full on fluffy oneshot that doesn’t have much angst in it for jinwoo 🥹

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[chwocolatte]

♪ 𝓫𝓮𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓲𝓯𝓾𝓵 𝓫𝓸𝔂 𝄞♭♪ . .

yūta okkotsu x reader ﾉ sfw — domestic fluff ﾉ features a sweet doting reader . . (⸝⸝o̴̶̷᷄ ·̭ o̴̶̷̥᷅⸝⸝) ﾉ reader is admiring yūta’s handsum self ( a hundie percent warranted hehe ) ﾉ lottsa lottsa smoochies between reader ‘n yūta . . ﾉ ‘princess’ used as a petname tew refer tew reader ﾉ vrrie yumeshippie coded ‘n self indulgent . .

ohhhh . . . nu words cld ﾉ possibly ﾉ b adequate enough tew describe da sheer gorgeousness of yūta . . i did try m’ vrrie best but .ᐟ .ᐟ he is simply tew beautiful fwor mi tew paint wif jus words alone . . (⸝⸝⸝ᵒ̴̶̷̥́ ⌑ ᵒ̴̶̷̣̥̀⸝⸝⸝) doesnt he shine sho pwettily ⭐️ .ᐣ

twinkling like a thousand stars, your eyes shine with a brilliance that could rival the cosmos, the universe itself. you are captivated within his gaze, the pools of cerulean that peer into your own. they hold abundant affection, the adoration evident in the way he regards you, the ardour a tangible thing.

gazing upon his visage, it's easy to lose yourself in the ethereal beauty that is his features. they are sharp, chiselled to perfection, a masterpiece of the gods, an effigy carved from marble. how could anyone compare?

yuuta may be considered average to some, but to you, he is a paragon of celestial splendor. he's the epitome of beauty, the pinnacle of perfection. a small pinch of his essence could send the most stoic of individuals into a frenzy, their minds clouded with the fervour that is him.

to put it simply, the young man is an angel in your eyes. an angel in every sense of the word. the term 'beautiful' fails to encapsulate the full extent of his splendor, the magnitude of his radiance and the depth of his ethereality. but it's all you have to describe him, and so you use it anyway, the adjective a pitiful attempt at expressing the immensity of your devotion.

“beautiful…”

the whisper leaves your lips in a reverent breath, and the sound of it causes the young man to flush a lovely shade of red, the tinge rivalling the vermillion hue of a rose. a shy smile plays at the corners of his mouth, and his teeth are a flash of pearly white as he laughs bashfully. the sound is melodious, a symphony of harmonies that reverberates throughout the room, the tune a cacophony of bells and chimes.

the flush reaches the tips of his ears, and the colour bleeds down the column of his neck, the sight reminiscent of a summer sunset. you can't help but reach out, the desire to stroke his flesh an undeniable pull. and so you do. your digits graze the planes of his visage, the contact feather light and delicate, a whisper against his skin. a lean in to your touch, a pause, a deep breath, and then…

he sighs contentedly, his eyes fluttering shut, the lids a curtain that shrouds his irises— twin windows to his soul. he leans further into your palm now, his profile nuzzling your hand, the gesture tender, loving. a silent plea for more.

and who are you to deny him?

mapping out the contours of his face, you commit each feature to memory, snapshots of him immortalised in your mind.

soft like a dream, his complexion is smooth beneath your fingertips, the texture akin to satin, the skin a silken sheet. his lashes are dark and full, a lush canopy of sable strands that fan out prettily, a feathered brushstrokes against his cheeks. they tickle you— oh, but not as much as the faint cupid’s bow that swiftly steals a kiss from your fingers does, a chaste peck that has you giggling like a fool. the sensation is fleeting, yet the effect lingers, leaving the pair of you smiling fondly.

it's a moment so intimate, the pair of you cocooned within a bubble of your own making, the rest of the world fading into obscurity that a part of you wishes to preserve it. to freeze time, to capture this precious fragment of life and etch it into your soul.

simple, yet exquisite, memories such as these are worth their weight in gold. they're treasures, and you want nothing more than to hoard them, to stow them away in the recesses of your mind, a gallery of cherished remembrances.

with a gentleness that speaks volumes of your feelings, your fingers dance until they meet their destination, the pad of your thumb brushing against his plump lower lip.

the flesh is velvety and inviting, and you can't resist the temptation. you give in, and, with a slight nudge, part his lips, your thumb slipping into the crevice, a small breach, before standing on your tippy toes, feet rising to meet him.

the miniscule space between the pair of you closes, and your breaths mingle, the air shared between your bodies, the heat radiating off of his person and seeping into your own. your nose is a hairsbreadth away from his own, the distance almost non-existent. and, in a moment so quiet and fragile, the tension so palpable it could be slit with a knife, you share a breath.

one, two, three… the beats pass in a pregnant pause. then, with a swiftness that belies his previous timidity, yuuta swoops down, taking your mouth into his.

confectionery sweet and sugar coated, the kiss is a concoction of love and longing, a decadent delicacy you can't seem to get enough of. the taste of him is a nectarine bliss, the sensation a pleasure akin to none. so special, so unique, you doubt there could be anything in this world that could compare.

you indulge yourself, drinking your fill, savouring the flavour of your loved one, the ambrosial treat a luxury. it's a sweet surrender, the submission a mutual one, gooey strings of honeyed saliva connecting the pair of you when you pull away, your bodies clearly unwilling to part.

however, the need for air wins out, and you reluctantly withdraw, the loss keenly felt. a whine, high pitched and petulant, escapes your throat— a child's tantrum, albeit an admittedly justified one.

the separation is a temporary one, though, and you're quickly pacified when peppered across your face are a barrage of kisses, the sticky film of his saliva sweeping over your skin as if to paint a picture. his mouth is an artist's brush, the tip dexterous as it dabs a mélange of imaginary pigments upon your features.

the final kiss lands squarely on your nose, a dot. the finishing touch makes the button twitch, the appendage quivering with a tingle, and the sound that leaves you is an amalgamate of laughter and giggles.

the pair of you are a mess, your visages smeared with the evidence of your affections. and, by the heavens, do you love it. the attestation of his infatuation is a badge of honour, the smudgy slaver a token of his regard. you don't dare to wipe it away. rather, you wear it with pride.

who could blame you? surely not him, judging by the grin he sends your way.

so dazzling, the beam is blinding, the brightness of it akin to that of the sun itself. it's a sight you would die a thousand times to behold.

"you really are the most beautiful boy, yuu.." the compliment tumbles from your mouth unbidden, truthful and raw. your words are nothing but an echo of your thoughts, an unconscious murmur of the musings that occupy your headspace.

"not as beautiful as you are, princess.. not even close." his response is immediate, spoken with that simper of his, the curl of his lips so pretty and soft.

in preparation for a protest, your mouth opens, the objection ready on the tip of your tongue, but a single finger to your lips is all it takes to silence you. a pout forms at the contact, the expression a puerile pucker.

"let me love you." the plea is a soft thing. "let me love you like you deserve. let me love you.. like you love me." yuuta repeats, a quiet request. his tone is a beseeching, the desperation written clear as day across his countenance. it's an entreaty that melts the last dregs of resistance left in you.

so, with a nod, you acquiesce.

you hear a suspire of relief, and then you're swept into the arms of a boy so in love, he's willing to do anything to show you just how much. and as you're carried off into the depths of his heart, the place that's reserved only for you, a singular thought occurs: perhaps, just this once, you'll allow him the win.

for a boy as wonderful as him, there's no harm in giving him the upper hand, is there?