#hell he’s been the one doing the smothering sometimes

[yanderes-galore]

Hello! Can I request Glamrock Freddy yandere alphabet :>

Sure I can! Sorry for the long wait, I've been working my hardest, I swear!

Yandere Alphabet - Glamrock Freddy

Pairing: Platonic/Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Clingy behavior, Stalking, Overprotective behavior, Delusional behavior, Babying, Kidnapping, Violence, Manipulation, Dubious companionship.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Freddy is very friendly, honest, and protective. He cares deeply for his obsession. He can actually be overbearing when it comes to affection. He'd accidentally smother you with his affection, always wanting to protect you and see you smile.

He adores hugs and nuzzling into you, even if he is a robot. Freddy seems like he'd come off as intense but not mean to. He just gets so excited about you.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Freddy usually likes to solve things in a non-violent way. He tries to stay away from excessive violence... but if you were really in danger? Well, he'll break such a rule for you.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Freddy would treat you really well. He keeps you from harm and tends to your every need. Regardless of intentions, he acts very paternal.

Food, comfort, any sort of affection... all taken care of.

He would never mock you.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

He tries not to. He doesn't like forcing you.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

A lot, actually. Freddy is very open with how much he cares about you. Sometimes he's vulnerable, but he likes to be strong for you.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Disappointed and confused. He's delusional and doesn't quite understand why his darling is fighting him.

After all... isn't he protecting you?

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

No and he hates it. You could get hurt!

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

For the most part, Freddy is really tame. The worst experience is probably him kidnapping you and not listening to you due to his delusions.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

However, if you want to bring the Afton Virus into this... any violent action involving that would work.

Honestly, seeing him snap and hurt someone is rare, but could happen too.

He isn't quite sure. What he wants to do is follow you, make sure you're well taken care of, and defend you like a guardian should.

It's part of his programming.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

I imagine Freddy does get jealous, but he either hides it or inserts himself into your conversations. He loves to be included.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Obsessive, Overprotective, Anxious, Clingy, Manipulative, Smothering, Caring.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

I imagine you're either a STAFF member or a guest he manages to lock on to. Afterwards he follows his little obsession curiously. As you can imagine... it gets progressively worse... and one day, by the end of closing time, you're locked in his room.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Not really, he isn't good at masking.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Freddy probably punishes you like a child due to his programming. Like... literal timeouts in his room. He doesn't want to do anything too intense.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Under his care? Probably most of them. Even if he doesn't mean them.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Very patient. He has to be due to what he does.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

He probably would if his memory was wiped... other than that, no, he probably would not move on.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

A little and maybe.

It would take a lot of convincing.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Most likely a glitch in his programming or maybe the Afton Virus?

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

He hates seeing you upset and would do whatever he can to comfort you. After all... what kind of companion would he be if he didn't?

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

SKIPPED

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Playing along with it until you can find help most likely.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Not intentionally.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Not really a worship yandere but would do anything to keep you by his side. He wants to see you happy and safe.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

If you're STAFF, if could be weeks or months. A customer? Perhaps within the day, depending on how attached he is.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Not intentionally.

[mo0nlyte]

✨Cuddlin' with ta' brothers✨

——————————————————————————

Mostly just cuddly, not much death n gore today

——————————————————————————

Bubba

Immediately yes, would he say no?

Depends, if he's working, you'll get a hug, then dragged inside later when he's done and you'll get to sit by him with him all around you!! Holding you in a tight hug.

Not working?

Perfect time to-

Snatch

The small child, and then- what, hours later?

Drayton'll find you two either in the basement (surprisingly a decent place to sit in the back away from the bodies)

The attic, or in the corner of Bubba's room sitting together with a blanket.

(when it's not burning like the 8th circle of hell ofc)

Maybe, if you're still under like what, 30? You could possibly sneak in his room. He doesn't usually keep it locked.

And he's used to you coming in probably if you're a cuddly person. If it's too hot tho he'll plop you back in your own room tho. Usually tho, you'll wake up in Bubba's arms. His room is surprisingly not smelling of death so it's quite nice :)

He usually hugs you, and sleeps like that. Or with you on his chest, he's big, you're probably not as big, it works :)

——————————————————————————

The twins

Depends, Nubbins doesn't stay still, and Chop-Top doesn't stay asleep for long.

If Nubbins is working? Heck yeah he'll take a break and sit down with you- usually doesn't matter where. Anyway to get out of work honestly.

If- by the grace of many things happening, like Nubbins is seriously tired, and fine with being touched at the moment, sometimes he'll just like poke you till you follow him, and then you'll usually lay in his (surprisingly) clean bed, n' Chop-Top or Drayton'll find y'all on top of the blankets,

with Nubbins practically wrapped around you. Not even smothering you, just imagine a dog cuddled up in a ball? Yeah, that's kind of how he sleeps.

(he does that a lot and just expects you to know sometimes)

That, or you'll catch him while he's ranting, and you have and probably will fall asleep to him ranting, him just sitting up, while your on his lap, and going on and on about roadkill, bones, some grotesque torture method.. something or other.

He'll usually only sleep some places, he feels or deems safe. The graveyard, the hayloft of the barn in one specific area, and probably his and his twins room.

Chop-Top?

Yoink

Okay guess this is your life now

He used to do this when Nubbins was smaller. When Bubba was smaller and younger..

His sense of boundaries is somehow in the negatives. It could be worse?

He will lay down with you. That is a threat.

Usually this means his twin is either mad at him, or not close enough, or generally just too lazy to go get his twin. That or Bubba is too far

Will play music off of the radio, you and him have been known to fall asleep to rock, but he usually won't play it around you for some reason

He won't traumatize you with 'nam, that'd for the 4 am wake ups to traumatize his twin, but he will tell you stories. You'll probably sleep on his chest, he likes that, he can wrap his arms around you easier.

Of course if it's in the middle of the night, and he's having a nightmare? Both you and Nubbins have snuggled up to him to calm him down.. Bubba was able to (somewhat) quietly take a picture of that :)

Will fall asleep anywhere almost on command it's almost concerning??

Speaking of which- and this is a very rare time

Both of them might

If you're possibly crying or having a nightmare

Imagine a sandwich

Yeah it's definitely squished, but they both become boulders when they fall asleep, so hopefully you can breathe

——————————————————————————

Drayton

(a reenactment first hand, of when you were 16 and very clingy, still are)

He never leaves his door locked, unless it's daytime

He's used to the twins randomly checking if he's still alive in the middle of the night, or you poking up to ask him to come downstairs with him at an ungodly hour. But also

Begging to sleep in his bed when it gets cold.

The twins did it, Bubba did it. They all did.

He woke up. Beady soulless eyes staring up at him from the side of the bed. He quickly woke up.

"Nonononononono don't you dare look at me like that- you are 16, you aren't sleeping in my-"

Too late. You are right beside him.

An angry tired sigh later. He'll bitch you out in the morning. (He probably won't remember)

Morning came. Bubba had been searching for you guys?? Then the twins, like where did you two go

It was an hour passed breakfast before they checked Drayton's room. Drayton was still snoring, you were getting 5-star sleep, what woke you guys up was Nubbins camera going off.

Then the three decided this was way more important than breakfast, and well. Nothing really got done on the farm that day.

Drayton won't sleep outside of his room, or the couch really.

He is quite nice to cuddle tho, he's fine with you hanging on him, and he's fine with you just wanting to be held. He has had to deal with three others like ya. He'll usually rest his head on top of yours and just hold you close.

Especially if it was after a hard day and both of you were tired!!

——————————————————————————

This was just toof rotting fluff

End<3

[scrapyardwings]

Bart Allen explaining why his Superboy is best: he gives great hugs and he’s the perfect height for me to do this! *muffled screams into Conner’s chest*

[zepskies]

Hi, how are you?

I was wondering if you could write something like "Dean reads you wrong" but with Sam Please

Hey, lovely!

I'm doing well, thank you. 💜 I hope you are too! Hmm, I'm still working through my current bank of requests, but since "Dean reads you wrong" is so fresh, it got me thinking about how Sam would go about this...

Pairing: Sam Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: It's hard for Sam to admit he wants you...when he thinks you might want his brother.

Song Inspo: "If You're Gone" by Matchbox Twenty

Word Count: 1,600 Tags/Warnings: Fluff, angst, fear of unrequited love, mutual pining

Imagine: Sam reads you wrong.

When Sam falls for someone, he's...well, what he would call self-aware.

But also cautious.

He knows his own track record with women. He knows the life he leads, and has resigned himself to giving up most kinds of normalcy or domesticity.

And maybe, a part deep in the back of his brain has given up on the idea of love.

That's why it's so damn confounding...how you've managed to take him by surprise.

He's always been able to rely on you. Whether it's sharing the brunt of the research with him when Dean loses focus, or staying up with Sam on late nights, sharing mugs of tea and quiet conversation, bonding over familiar tastes in books, and '90s grunge music, of all things.

You also confessed to him, late one night, that you have a growing collection of mugs, fuzzy socks, and vinyl records, despite the fact that your record player has collected more dust than the bunker's old storage room.

You're wonderfully weird.

And you're unfailingly loyal to who you consider "your people." And Sam thinks (knows) he's fortunate enough to be included in that small circle.

Sam also knows, deep in his gut, no matter how much he tries to "rationalize" it away, that you're special. And special to him.

You've managed to do more than just slip under his skin. When he thinks too hard on it, he can admit it (just to himself). You've infiltrated all four corners of his heart so deeply, he doesn't have a prayer of scooping you out.

Some days, it's all he can do not to reach out while you're chatting away, filling the silence.

He can picture it like a scene in his mind: of interrupting your mouth with a gentle hand on your cheek, tilting your face up to his and showing you, with or without words, that he wants you...

And yet.

He can't help but watch how you are with Dean.

You two tease each other, bicker and gripe over coffee grinds left in the coffee pot and who ate the last of the leftovers. You fight with Dean over the remote on movie night (once, damn near smothering him with a pillow).

But you also dote on him, making sure Dean has one of his favorite desserts every time you go out to buy groceries. You swap his beer out for water when he's not looking. (And though Dean frowns and grumbles, he doesn't argue with your raised brow and imploring look.)

It's not quite flirting, but it's not quite platonic either—at least in Sam's eyes. You and Dean seem to have something.

And sometimes, your playful banter with his brother makes Sam sick to his stomach.

Like today, when Sam’s sitting at the kitchen table reading while you're making a cup of tea. The silence between you two is amiable, like usual.

Sam steals a glance at you and has to smile.

"Going with purple polka dots today?" he asks.

You look over with knitted brows of confusion, until you follow his gaze. You laugh sheepishly and wiggle your toes through your fuzzy socks.

"The floor is cold as hell," you defend yourself.

Sam's smile deepens a fraction as he turns back to his book.

"They're cute," he adds.

You turn your face to hide your blush. The mild thunder of heavy boots announces Dean's presence as he pops into the kitchen.

"Oh good, you're cooking. What's for dinner?" he asks. You turn to give him a familiar narrowed look.

"Who says I'm cooking?" you counter.

"Well, you're doing something on the stove..." Dean peers over and catches a whiff of the concoction you're brewing. He grimaces. "Second thought, I'm good. That smells like ass, whatever it is."

You roll your eyes at him. "It's just green tea, Dean. You know, health?"

He levels a deadpan expression at you as he opens up the pantry.

"I see your 'health' and I raise you...Doritos," he says. He digs his hand into the bag he's just pilfered and crunches a mouthful in your face. You can't help but splutter a laugh and push Dean away.

"You're ridiculous. If you catch a heart attack at 50, don't come crying to me."

"Hey, at least I'll die happy."

"Oh, right. A silver lining there. I'd hate to see what your arteries look like," you tease.

"Has anyone told you that you're unsavory?" Dean asks, continuing to crunch with an open mouth.

You smirk. "Is that your way of calling me sweet?"

He snorts. "Sure, sweetheart. We'll call it that."

"You know, I'm not your sweetheart," you point out.

Dean discreetly glances his brother's way with a sly glint in his eyes. Sam doesn't see it; by now he's trying his damndest to keep his eyes in his book and ignore the way his stomach is clenching, chest tightening.

Dean shifts his attention back at you and reaches down to brush your chin with his thumb.

"Not yet, but you could be," he says, in a flirtatious edge that he's never quite taken with you.

You're wide-eyed for a moment. In the end, though, you choose to take it as teasing. You push his hand away and give him an annoyed look.

"God, you're such a clown. Order a pizza if you're that hungry," you rejoin, and you pour two mugs of freshly brewed tea. "I won't even bother offering you one."

"Nope," Dean says, popping the "p." He walks out of the kitchen, giving Sam a firm slap on the back. Sam coughs and shoots his brother a frown.

Dean has the gall to wink at him before he walks out. Like he's having his own little private joke.

Well, Sam isn't laughing. He stares down hard at his book. He tries to ignore everything he just heard and saw out of the corner of his eye.

It becomes too much. He takes up his book and heads out of the kitchen.

He just doesn't see the way you frown as he walks away. There you stand, left holding two mugs of tea for you and him.

Sam returns to his room for a while. He's not hiding. He's...reading.

There's a knock at his door, and if it's Dean, he swears he's going to open his mouth and tell his brother to leave him the hell alone, like he's some kind of moody teen.

But it's you.

"Hey," you greet, after the door creaks open. Sam softens.

"Hey," he says, clearing his throat. "What's up?"

"You," you reply. You bring him his hot mug of tea and set it down on the desk where he sits.

"Thanks," he says.

You nod and place your mug beside his (Lord of the Rings themed, of course), and cross your arms as you lean against his desk.

Sam turns toward you in his chair. His hands rest on his thighs. His gaze travels back up to your face as he tries to keep his neutral, but welcoming to whatever you want to ask him. (He buries his heart deep, as he instinctively does whenever you're near him.)

"You okay?" you ask. Your brows furrow the longer you gaze down at him. Just staring, like you know he's hiding something. Like you can see straight into him, into the shadows where he keeps most of his thoughts of you.

This is perhaps the only area of his life where he's a coward.

"Yeah, I'm good," Sam replies, in a tone that suggests, Why wouldn't I be?

You quirk a smile. "Why don't I believe you?"

Sam swallows. For once, he's not sure what to say to you.

"You know you can talk to me, right?" you say softly. You take a subtle step into his orbit, almost between his open legs. Your demeanor says that you'd gladly listen, do whatever he asked of you. Because you're just that kind.

Sam's mouth twitches upward. "I know. I'm fine, really."

"You're fine, or you're Winchester fine?" you raise a brow.

Sam chuckles then, showing a flash of his smile. It lightens you.

"Maybe a bit of the second one," he admits.

You smile and inch closer, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah? Tell me," you say. Your voice is soft, but not quite a whisper.

It leads Sam to sigh. He grasps your hand where it lies on his shoulder. For a moment, he debates internally. He realizes then that Dean's antics earlier might've been more than just teasing. Maybe it was a subtle nudge—to stop wasting time.

Damn it, just do something, Sam thinks.

When you squeeze his hand back, it's just the small push he needs. He glances up at you.

Then he takes your hand and holds it between both of his, with care. He tugs you forward, surprising you as you step forward between his legs. Your mouth parts in soft surprise when he reaches a hand up to your cheek.

You still look surprised, blushing up to your ears, but you're not pulling away. In fact, your widened gaze moves from his eyes to his lips.

Sam smiles. He tugs you down to him and enacts a living daydream, finally kissing you with everything he has. Everything he’s had locked inside.

You respond to his mouth in kind; the subtle gasp of breath against his lips sharply cuts off as you sink into his kiss. Your trembling hand comes to his cheek, grazing the dull prickle of stubble. When your fingers dive into his hair next, it’s his turn to take a deep breath.

With each new kiss, he explores more of you. His hands find your waist, and he gathers you against his chest. You find purchase on his strong shoulders and give into the opportunity to straddle his hips, sitting in his lap while he continues to make your heartbeat wild in your chest.

Sam slows the kiss, only because his brain is starting to catch up with his heart. He wants to see your face, to make sure this is what you want.

He finds that and more when he looks up at you.

He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, tenderly brushing his thumb against your cheek.

"Does that answer your question?" he asks, with a soft laugh. You join him and press your forehead against his.

"I don't know,” you tease. Your eyes are dancing, both with amusement and relief. Because your heart has wanted this for even longer than Sam's.

You lean back in to whisper close to his lips. “Maybe I need a little more clarity."

Sam takes you at your word.

AN: It's been a long time since I've written for Sam! 💜 I got in another request for him a while ago. I may dust that one off soon... Until then, let me know what you think of this!

(And don't worry. I didn't forget about the Soldier Boy imagine I promised. That will come out at the end of this week, most likely!)

Read Dean's version: "Dean reads you wrong."

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[mediumgayitalian]

prev

———

Twenty minutes later, Solace hurries out of his cabin in cowboy boots.

And jeans.

Nico gapes at him.

“Go go go go go, questions later,” Will hisses, herding him behind the Apollo cabin. “We are on a time limit, we gotta —”

“You’re wearing close-toed shoes.”

“Yes, yes, sometimes I wear the clothes that I own. Wild. Let’s go.” Will tugs, uselessly, on his arm, but Nico’s half-certain his jaw has taken root in the ground, cementing him in place, because what the actual shit.

“Solace, you wore flip-flops to the snow-smothered bus stop in January. I thought you had, like, a condition!”

“I do have a condition. It’s called You Are Not Hurrying, Death Breath, let’s go —”

This time when he pulls, Nico stumbles after him, ducking under windowsills and inching around flower gardens. Every time someone so much as looks in their direction, Will plants both hands on his chest and shoves them into a corner somewhere, craning his neck to watch until they move on. Every time he does, another piece of Nico’s soul breaks away from his body and descends into hell. There is an actual trail of bones and tilled earth and dead grass behind him. Will doesn’t need to worry about being stealthy — the death aura of Nico’s dignity is large enough to scare off anything within a four mile radius.

“In here!”

Undeterred by the death aura, for some reason, Will seizes his bicep and shoves him in a crack between the Hypnos and Dionysus cabins. He slips in a millisecond later, crowding him against the warm bricks, forearm pressed awkwardly next to Nico’s head.

“Hnggh,” Nico gasps, mournfully wishing his last sliver of self-respect goodbye. Rest in fucking peace. “Do you have to be so — close, Will, gods —”

“Shhh!”

“If you shush me again I am going to rip your throat out —”

“Go, go, go!”

Yanked forward again, Nico doesn’t have the time to finish his threat. This time, at least, they sprint the final stretch to the shed without any more hiding and shoving.

Thank all the fucking gods. One more second of Will’s stupid torso — since fucking when does he wear polo shirts, huh, what the shit fuck is up with that — pressed against his and Nico’s bronchitis was going to come back. And this time he’s going to succumb to it.

“Okay,” Will says. He stands in front of a tarp-covered lump, gripping one side and jutting his chin out at the other. “On three, we tear this off and start pushing. We need past Thalia’s tree in under thirty seconds. Got it?”

“No,” Nico says stubbornly, “you still haven’t explained what the rush is —”

“One two three go!”

Will, unfortunately, has been tricking ADHD teenagers into doing things they don’t want to do for years, so Nico’s ripping off the tarp and shoving the chariot out of its stall faster than he can register what he’s doing. He practically sprints to keep up with Will, chariot wheels creaking happily as they rush over stones and sticks and forgotten weapons.

“We’re leaving now, Chiron! Bye!” Will hollers, moving too fast to give him a second to respond. Luckily, Chiron is similarly busy, galloping after a speeding Harley without more than a backwards wave and a sharp don’t die, please!

“That dynamite I gave Harley’ll only keep everyone distracted another thirty seconds,” Will mutters, ignoring Nico’s alarmed the fucking what you gave Harley, “so we need to move, let’s go.”

“Will — slow down a half fucking second, Christ, not everyone is seventy percent leg — we don’t even have pegasi!”

“Will you keep it down.” Will looks back and forth, eyes wide, like he’s worried someone is going to pop up with a pack of the winged animals. “Just — stop asking questions! We’re almost home free!”

“You’ve gone insane. It’s finally, actually happened, after all these years, who woulda thought, fully bonkers at age sixteen —”

“Oh, shut up.”

Muttering his complaints, Nico helps him push the infernal chariot down Half-Blood Hill. Among his grievances, he makes it abundantly clear that 1) this is stupid, 2) he did not agree to physical labour, 3) he would not have agreed to come if he had known about the physical labour, and 4) this is stupid.

“Just a few more yards, then we can —”

“Okay, no, that’s it.” Nico lets go of the chariot, letting the wheel dig into the soft ground and send the whole thing halting. He meets Will’s pout head-on; arms crossed, jaw set, foot tapping, refusing to give into those big blue eyes.

“C’mon, Neeks.” A faint explosion sounds off in the distance. Will’s eyes get more pleading, more hopeful. “We won’t have much time after the diversion wears off…”

“You have three seconds before I turn the hell around, Solace.”

“Please?”

“One.”

He pushes uselessly at the chariot. It spins a sad little circle without someone pushing the other side. “Neeks!”

“Two.”

“Alright, fine! Help me push again and I’ll explain on the way down.”

“Much easier when you just do as I say,” Nico grumbles, starting to push the stupid (horseless and therefore useless) chariot again. “Isn’t it?”

Will, predictably, rolls his eyes, although he can’t quite help the smile that pulls at his lips. Nico tells the butterflies that go buck fucking wild in his stomach to go to hell. This does nothing.

“How much do you know about the chariot?” Will asks eventually, after a couple minutes of shoving the stupid thing past a deep trench in the soil, leftover from the war. (Nico is going to set the fucking thing on fire. It’s a flying chariot — shouldn’t it be lightweight? Why is he suffering?) They’re nearly three quarters down the hill, and it takes everything Nico has not to risk it all and shadow travel the last couple dozen feet. Yeah, it might kill him, but then his problem would immediately go away. Tempting does not begin to cover it.

“Uh, big source of drama, right? Apollo and Ares worked together to seize it, argued over who got to keep it?”

He cuts a careful glance over to Will, well aware it’s a sensitive topic. He knows the question isn’t a trap — Will would never do that to him — but it’s probably best to tread lightly. As far as he’s concerned, this is a sore point that’ll take more than a couple years to heal.

Luckily, there’s no tension to Will’s face. “Mhm. I wasn’t there for much of the planning, ‘cause I was busy in the infirmary and also, like, twelve, but it took a lot of time on both sides. When Michael and everyone seized it, though, it glowed gold.”

“…Ah.”

Will snorts at his awkwardness, nudging his shoulder. “Yeah. Sure made it hard for the Ares cabin to claim, as dicey as it may be. Here, help me park it on the side of the road.”

There’s a thatch of weeds and undergrowth separating the road from the base of the hill, so dragging the chariot over is a struggle and a half. Nico can’t help but think that this task would be very easy if the chariot was harnessed to a couple pegasi and flying over the fucking thatch, as it is meant to do. When he voices this very valid thought, Will does not respond.

He does walk into a thistle, though, so Nico feels considerably better about the whole ordeal.

“The thing about the blessing —” Will grunts, yanking the chariot onto the gravel shoulder with one final tug — “is that it’s not that big of a deal. My dad blesses shit all the time. Our cabin is blessed. The infirmary is blessed. Hell, half my scalpels are blessed, and I throw those things out all the time ‘cause they’re dangerous when they get dull. Just because my dad blessed it doesn’t mean we actually have to keep it.”

“Okay…” Nico says slowly, “then why was it such a big deal?”

“The blessing on its own wasn’t.” Will’s voice gets fainter as he lowers himself onto the pavement, dragging himself under the belly of the chariot. Nico is confused for a full three seconds before a particularly rough patch of asphalt snags Will’s shirt and drags, and wow, are those jeans low rise. His throat is suddenly very dry. “Blessing a chariot on the other hand…”

Will makes a dorky little noise of success, crawling back from under the chariot. When he resurfaces, he’s grinning, carved piece of wood the same material as the chariot clenched in his hand. There’s soot smeared across his left cheek, his curls have tangled themselves into more of a mess than usual, and there are three separate scuff marks on his nice jeans.

Nico ducks his head, hiding a smile. What a dorky loser. Even dressed up as he is (boy, has Nico fallen low, if he’s calling jeans and cowboy boots dressed up), he still manages to look like…Will.

A really, really hot version of Will, but. Whatever. Details.

“The hell is that?”

“This,” Will says grandly, feeling around the wall of the chariot until he finds a specific spot, “is the reason my brother gave a fuck about a dumbass chariot.” He sticks the edge of the wooden tool in a tiny groove, wedging it open to reveal a hidden panel and a small, golden button. Nico meets Will’s grin with raised eyebrows, impressed.

“What do you know about Michael?”

“Uh, not too much.”

“You think he, in any reality, would have had that much interest in a hunk of wood?”

Nico had scarcely met him more than a couple times, but Michael Yew made an impression, that was for sure. For someone who was shorter than Nico when he was ten years old, he sure took up a lot of space. In the few times Nico remembers seeing him, he’d been concerned with his bow, his camera, or showing any given person who so much as blinked at him wrong just how quickly he could turn their ass concave. If Nico is correct, actually, the one time he and a pegasus had been in the same vicinity, they’d hissed at each other. Nico didn’t even know pegasi could hiss.

He tries to find a delicate way to say this.

“He seemed more interested in other endeavours,” he says politely.

Will laughs loudly. “He would rather shove an arrow in his eye than race a chariot!” His bright smile is impossible not to match, and Nico is relieved to find him totally comfortable, relaxed; hell, even excited. Usually, any talk of his siblings, even fond, makes him quiet. He’s glad for this change, however unusual. “Man, I loved my brother more than anything, but he was the most ornery motherfucker I’ve ever met in my life. He taught me every swear in every language by the time I was nine, just because he knew it would drive Lee batty. He didn’t care about some spoil of war.”

He smirks, wide and devilish, and Nico’s knees go weak. Dimples like that should be illegal.

“He was smart, though. And he figured, if dad’s blessing made this chariot anything like his own…”

He reaches out and presses the golden button with his thumb, letting go and standing back once he registers a faint click. After a couple seconds, the chariot begins to glow, soft at first, then brighter, then Nico has to squeeze his eyes shut to avoid the stinging burn, and then when he opens them, it —

He gapes. Will grins.

Where the chariot used to be, is now a shiny, brand-new, black and yellow motorbike, two helmets gleaming on the sparkling leather seat.

“…Then it might be a little more than some lousy chariot.”

Without waiting for Nico to pick his jaw off the floor, Will rushes forward. He tosses one of the helmets to Nico — which he barely manages to catch, still working on processing what the fuck just happened — and tucks the other under his arm. Nico happens to notice how his biceps flex with the action, and then vows to have his father bankrupt the entire polo shirt industry, because he can never be caught lacking like this by any mortal soul. It’s humiliating.

There’s a click as Will unlatches the seat, lifting it up to access the compartment under it. He pulls out a bundle mass of black fabric, and with a flick of his shoulders reveals it to be a fucking leather jacket and oh, gods, Nico takes back the polo shirt complaints, he can live with the polo shirt. This is too much. This is —

“Any time you’re done ogling at me, you can climb on,” Will calls out. He doesn’t even have the good grace to look in Nico’s direction, instead sliding on the seat facing resolutely forward, amused smirk on his face. And because he wants Nico to die, actually, he straightens his jacket, making sure it fits his shoulders right (by the gods does it ever) brushes his hair backwards (there is no genuine reason for someone’s hair to actually shine in the sunlight) and slides his helmet on. When he finally does look back in Nico’s direction, through his raised visor, the combined sight of his sparkling blue eyes and the cut of his face under the angular helmet actually gives him tachycardia.

“I hate you,” Nico croaks. “Not joking.”

Will throws his head back and laughs, baring his long, tanned throat. Nico follows the bob of his adam’s apple like Tantalus does the forbidden fruit. It’s horrible, and what’s worse is that Will is visibly preening like the fuckin’ peacock he is. Someone should remind him he’s basically a dressed up turkey. Or something. Nico’s brain is operating at twenty percent capacity, his ability to metaphor properly is a secondary concern.

“Just get over here, you goober. We’re on a time limit, remember?”

Shoving his helmet on to hide his flaming face, Nico does, sliding on with a healthy four inches of space between them.

“Mm, not gonna work, ParaNorman. This thing’s enchanted, we’ll be going well over a hundred. Hold on properly.”

Praying to seven different gods for strength, at once, Nico scooches the agonizing few inches closer.

“Hands around waist, Death Boy.”

“I’m fucking — I’m getting there, you asshole, gimme a goddamn second.”

“Do you need help?”

“I need you to shut the fuck up so I can focus.”

Maybe it’s the healer in him, or maybe there actually is a god looking out for Nico and they decide to have mercy. Maybe it’s a third option. Either way, Will reaches back and wraps his callused hands around Nico’s wrist, tugging them gently forward and resting them on the narrow curve of his hips. Nico holds them there, along with his breath, until some of the panicky tension starts to loosen in his chest, and he relaxes forward, resting his chest against Will’s back.

“There,” he says quietly, humming with approval when Nico’s arms link properly around his waist. He squeezes his clasped wrists once — a silent you good? — and waits for Nico’s minute nod, face buried in the back of Will’s neck, before starting up the engine, revving it twice before leaning forward, body flush to the bike. Nico can practically feel his grin, it’s so clear in his mind’s eye, in the delight thrumming through Will’s entire body, that he can’t help his own smile, too, can’t help but feel the thrum of the machine, the sharp smell in the air. He tightens his hold and Will lets out a loud, whooping laugh.

“Let’s ride, baby!”

With a push off the ground and a twist of a thrusters, they’re off, leaving behind only the echo of the roaring engine and the joyful, startled sound of Nico’s shriek.

———

next

[peachyloveswriting]

it’s been freezing lately and that got me thinking… cod boys and cuddles? hcs 👀

CUDDLES --- COD Boys

SUMMARY: The boys and some cold cuddles. Oh and some sexual implications.

NOTES: they're not even sexual implications there's outright sex mentioned here a few times.

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

PRICE

-> He's an absolute DILF of a man who could absolutely rock your shit in more ways than one but when he's cold that's a completely different story. All Price wants is to be with you, he'll turn into a bit of a grumpy bear when he's cold without you. This man can't stand the thought of you feeling cold on your own so in colder months or areas you're always right by his side, never too far. You have to be close enough for him to attack with cuddles.

-> Although he's an absolute sap Price can also be one hell of a convincing personality when he wants to be. Specifically when he wakes up on a particularly cold morning. If he's not in the same bed as you he'll end up there by the time you wake up, no one can stop him from doing it either. He'll break down your door if he has to, just to be with you. He'll jump into the bed, his whole body covering you bottom to top as he shivers around you. Sometimes you'll wake with his head tucked beneath your chin and his head in your shirt or you'll wake with your face in his hairy chest while he snores peacefully above you in warmth.

-> On a snowy day he's babysitting 141 while they play outside base with one another, snow balls flying through the air and shouts of pain and complaints. It's like watching children, but once time is up he forces them back inside base so they can warm back up and so he can see you. You'll be sitting in the mess eating or something when he comes in and grabs him and the boys all hot chocolate since they seemed to be selling them this year. His nose and fingers will be cold and red when he comes to you with a small smile. All sulking behind him will be the boys with their peculiarly red faces and heaving chests. Thankfully there's a resting area near by with a huge couch inside where you all grab up blankets and snuggle up together watching movies. Ghost has yet to join in.

-> sometimes cold mornings lead to some serious sex in the morning. It's sleepy and slow, with that need to pull one another closer to fight off the cold, to keep the other warm all the while trying to stay quiet while you hide your face in his chest his sleepy voice showering you with praise and love. He's especially a sucker for doing this when you're with the team watching movies on the couch together. He'll just leave you sitting there on his dick and once the movie rolls credits he'll claim you're asleep and carry you to the bed where he can really have his way with you.

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

GHOST

-> Ghost's not an extremely affectionate person nor is he someone who likes being smothered by cuddles all the time but your small whimpers and whines as you pull him closer to you at night shuddering and shaking in the cold leaves him wanting you so bad. He'll softly wrap his massive arms around you, pulling you closer and closer to him until your bodies are intertwining with one another and you're no longer complaining about the cold. He doesn't have to worry about getting too cold, he's always warm. It's just the natural way his body works. In the mornings when you wake up cold and his warmth just isn't enough you'll go in search of his gloves, jacket, etc. One you find them and crawl back into his sleeping arms he'll wake to see you absolutely decked out in skeleton themed clothing. Resting along your small hands will be his skeleton gloves and hanging heavily off your body would be his half skull themed hoodie that he likes to wear on leave. He loves it when you wear his clothes.

-> On base you're like a mom to the boys of 141, everyone loves and enjoys your company. Mainly because they live in such a harsh environment and your just what they need at the end of the day, someone who tells them to go enjoy the snow like children. Boy do they go at it too, someone walks away with a bleeding cheek from slipping on ice and everyone is beet red by the time they go back inside. You are too. Usually Ghost doesn't join you for this kind of stuff so he'll stay inside very patiently waiting for you to snuggle up into his side in search of his heat. If he joins you, he'll have his hands on yours the entire time, at some point you walk away with his balaclava, gloves and jacket which the team finds hilarious. These are the times when he's not so subtle about your current relationship since it's technically not allowed, people just think your really close no one really questions it.

-> If Ghost isn't around you'll go in search of another person for warmth, Soap. He's always reliable when you can't find you beloved beefy boyfriend, even as much as Ghost dislikes seeing another man with his hands on you he understands your need for warmth however you don't walk away unscathed. You're punishments not as bad when it's Soap, never again would you choose any other man. Sure Ghost was as sweet as possible when it came to his alone time with you but the moment you do something he doesn't like he's bound to show you who's boss in the relationship. You'll sneak your way to his room that night and crowl under the covers thinking he's asleep when in reality he's sitting there just waiting for you to settle in before he rips you to shreds. He'll have you so warm by the end of the night you won't be shaking from the cold anymore, but you will be from something else 😏.

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

SOAP

-> Soap doesn't like the cold anymore than he likes getting shot which is not at all. So do not let this man go alone and cold to do anything he shouldn't be doing without you. In the mornings you'll find him in your bed, his hair a disheveled mess above you while he snores away, the tip of his nose bright red. He's so oblivious to the world in these moments but no matter what you're always warm together. If Soap just so happens to wake up before you he's most definitely going to make you both a hot breakfast. After that he'll drag you into a nice hot showered where you dare to fall asleep again. He honestly doesn't mind going back to bed with you in his arms on a cold morning.

-> on a cold night, he's all about making sure your warm at absolutely any cost. This sometimes leads to people almost finding out your relationship however Soap is always ready to play it risky. His hands roaming your body and both of you moving in tandem with the other while you groan and grind against him whimpering for more. He's a sucker for nights like these, and on night away from base during particularly long missions he'll especially be doing this. In a secure rooftop while snow dances around you you'll he a babbling mess bouncing on his cock and moaning his name. He just loves the way you unravel around him to stay warm.

-> Going outside with him to play in the snow with the rest of the 141 is fun but you can't stay out very long, Soap will follow you back inside tossing his jacket on you while he grabs some hot chocolate and guides you back to his bed where he offers some fluffy innocent cuddles. He's soft about the way you lean against him, your hands wrapped around the mug while the stream warms up your rosy cheeks.

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

KÖNIG

-> This absolute mountain of a man was built for the cold, you however are not. So early mornings and late nights are spent under the cover of his bed while he holds you tight against him, his sleepy voice muttering sweet nothing into your ear while you savor his warmth swallowing you whole. He'll rub his hands all over your body, spreading the warmth while he softly kisses the back of your neck, his hot breath warming you even more. These are König's favorite times, when it's just you and him together while he keeps you safe in warm in his arms you pack pressed against his stomach.

-> You won't go to anyone else to get warm and König loves that you just gravitate towards him naturally when you become cold. You could be on a mission and suddenly your standing right beside him in a matter of minutes. You'll be clearing the floor of a building and press yourself against his back while you watch the rear. If he has watch then you have watch too. The list could do on but we'd be here forever. If the occasion ever arrives that König's not around to warm you up you'll bitch and complain all day, not just to your teammates but to anyone you happen to run into in base. Gaz is a frequent you find yourself going to when your on your last straw. König isn't particularly happy about it but that changes the moment you see him again. You'll suddenly be biting at the bit to go back to your room and when you're finally freed your leaping into his arms and never letting go.

-> After hearing about your very warm behavior to Gaz he'll obviously feel jealous, his hands roaming your body while he's asking you all these nervous questions about your relationship. You're there to reassure him of everything but sometimes he feels the need to make you prove to him just how loyal you really are. His gentle touches on your skin will feel venomous as he towers above you, that glare in his usually soft eyes that tells you he could rip you to pieces if he really wanted to. Usually once he's had his fun he'll be praising you quietly while you sit on his aching cock, his arms pressing you further against him. Sometimes he'll even ask you. "Warm enough yet?"

[vigilante-3073]

Hold Me

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

PART 1

Summary: If you had the chance to save the one you love, would you take it?

Reader has the power to Teleport

TW: Angst, violence, blood, guns, denied feelings, love-hate relationship, super-soldier serum.

Musical recommendations: Can You Hold Me? By NF (Feat. Britt Nicole).

Bucky sat on the leather couch in his therapist's office in silence as she searched through his phone. He usually enjoyed the silence, but today it made him want to crawl out of his skin. Bucky turned his head towards the window, the sky was dark and it had started to rain outside. His bright blue eyes followed the raindrops dutifully as they rolled down the glass, Bucky had always liked the rain.

"Who is Y/N?" Doctor Raynor asked, looking up from his cellphone screen.

"My roommate," Bucky stated.

"You never told me you had someone living with you," She said.

"Because it doesn't matter," Bucky said. He couldn't stand Y/N and he certainly didn't want to take up a second of his therapy session talking about her.

"The two of you talk quite a lot. Almost every day by the looks of it... How did you meet this person?" Doctor Raynor asked, pressing the power button on Bucky's phone. She held out the phone to him and he took it, setting it down on the couch beside himself.

"Steve," He said, looking down at his hands.

"Do you know why Steve introduced you to them?" Doctor Raynor questioned, picking up her pen.

Bucky sighed, shifting in his seat, "No," He said.

"Can you tell me about Y/N?" She asked.

Bucky could feel himself getting frustrated, "I'm not here to talk about her," He snapped.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow wordlessly.

"Why do you even care?" Bucky questioned, sinking back into the couch.

"Because you do," She replied.

"I don't care about her. She has made my life hell since the day I met her," Bucky said.

"How has she managed that?" Doctor Raynor asked, scribbling notes down into her book.

Bucky huffed, "She's just annoying," He shrugged.

"How so?" The Doctor pushed, not looking up from her notes. Bucky wanted to toss that notebook across the room.

"Can we talk about something else?" He asked desperately.

"Nope," She stated, looking up at him with a small smile. Bucky knew that there was no getting around her.

He sighed heavily, folding his hands in his lap, "She's always checking up on me... Texting, calling, forcing me into stupid conversations about my day and making terrible jokes," He listed.

"Does it feel overwhelming? Having someone check up on you, I mean," Doctor Raynor asked.

Yes. Yes, it does. Bucky thought bitterly.

"It feels like I'm being smothered... I know she means well, but it's just too much," Bucky stated.

"Have you told Y/N about how you've been feeling?" The Doctor asked.

Bucky sighed again, "No," He said plainly.

"Why not?" Doctor Raynor questioned.

"I don't want to hurt her feelings," Bucky muttered. And it was true, she was a good person, just overbearing sometimes.

"Huh, sounds to me like you care about her," Doctor Raynor said, closing her notebook.

"I don't," Bucky stated.

"Whatever you say," She smiled.

...

"Bucky!" Y/N cried, body colliding with his as she knocked him out of the way when the gunshot rang out.

The pair hit the suddenly sandy ground, rolling down the beach.

Bucky landed on his back with her body on top of him. He squinted up at the bright sky above them.

The leaves of palm trees rustled in the warm breeze, a few seagulls flying by overhead as the sound of ocean waves crashed against the shore.

"Where the hell are we?" Bucky asked, turning his head to see a large body of water with waves gently lapping at the shore.

They certainly weren't in Latvia anymore.

"I don't know," Y/N said, pushing herself up onto her knees with a grimace. She looked down at herself, "Shit," She muttered, Bucky looked up at her.

Y/N pressed her hand against her stomach, pulling it back to see her palm coated in blood.

Bucky sat up, looking down at her, "We need to get you to a hospital. Do you think you can portal us back?" He asked.

"Yeah, I-I think so," She stood up with Bucky's help, keeping her hand pressed against her stomach.

Y/N held onto his arm, closing her eyes as she tried to focus.

Nothing happened.

Y/N opened her eyes, "Bucky, it's not working," She said shakily, her eyes glossing over with tears.

"You can do this," Bucky assured, squeezing her arm reassuringly.

"Bucky, I'm scared," She mumbled, a single tear breaking loose and rolling down her cheek.

Bucky quickly wiped it away with his thumb, dread beginning to settle in his stomach when he noticed how pale she was getting, "I know. But you need to stay calm right now," He said.

"I don't want to die," She whimpered, gripping onto him desperately.

"You are not going to die. I won't let that happen, alright?" Bucky assured, cupping her cheek in his palm. More tears spilled down her cheeks as she nodded.

"I need you to focus, sweetheart. Get us back," Bucky instructed.

Y/N would be going into shock soon.

Bucky watched her as she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. He could feel her trembling in his hold.

Nothing happened.

Y/N opened her eyes again, "I can't do it," She mumbled tiredly, knees buckling underneath her.

Bucky stepped forward, catching her and gently lowering her down to the sand below.

He knelt beside her, "I need you to keep your eyes open, doll," Bucky instructed. His heart started to race as panic set in.

Y/N was going to die right in front of him.

"Stay with me," Bucky ordered, taking her hand. Her body slumped against his chest, "I'm sorry," She mumbled.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for, sweetheart," Bucky assured, desperately trying to keep his emotions in check. He couldn't afford to break down right now, he needed to be strong for her.

"Can you hold me, please?" Y/N asked softly. Bucky nodded, carefully maneuvering her body into his lap with his arms holding her securely against his chest.

Her tired eyes stared out at the glistening ocean, "I certainly picked a beautiful place to die," She mumbled.

"You're not gonna die," Bucky choked out.

"It's okay. At least I'm with you," Y/N said softly.

She may have been a pain in the ass.

She may have been annoying at times.

But Bucky needed her.

Somewhere buried underneath all his fraudulent hate, he had fallen in love with her.

Bucky looked down at her as her grip on his hand went loose. Her eyes drifted shut, head leaning against his chest.

"Hey, Y/N. Y/N, open your eyes. Come on," He called shakily, tilting her head up to see her face. Bucky rubbed his thumb across her cheek, jostling her body in his arms, "Open your eyes," He pleaded, tears gathering in his eyes.

He could hear her heartbeat slowing in her chest. He looked up at the ocean, feeling the warmth of the sun on his skin as tears rolled down his cheeks.

Bucky knew that he couldn't save her on his own, but he'd be damned if he left her alone to die. His body shook as he sobbed, cradling her in his arms.

Bucky looked over as something reflective caught his eye in the sand.

A syringe of blue serum.

It must have gotten swept up with them when Y/N portalled them out.

The serum could save her life or kill her, but she was going to die without treatment regardless.

Bucky reached over, grabbing the serum from the sand. The serum would give her a fighting chance and that was good enough for Bucky.

He stabbed the syringe into her thigh, watching the blue serum move from the vial and into her bloodstream.

For now, he would sit on the beach and hold her in his arms while watching the tide roll in.

[saey707]

some scenario where kayn's obsessed with f!reader's boobs, i beg you!!

✿ Prompt: Kayn loves your boobs ✿

♡ champion focus: kayn ♡ tw: nsfw ♡ Female reader

Author’s Note: Hello anon! Thanks for submitting such a bold request- I knew right off the bat I would have a lot of fun with this one to be honest lol ✩°｡⋆⸜(˙ ꒳ ​˙ ) It's going to be quite NSFW so I hope you are prepared for this... Hope you enjoy! (๑>◡<๑)

Kayn has always been biased about the part of you he loves. It wasn't to say that he didn't love your ass or your thighs, those were nice too... But god, he couldn't stop himself from loving your tits. Some would even say he's obsessed with them, given how many pictures there are out there of him staring at them.

He'll subconsciously stare at them, especially on days you choose to wear a tank top or that little black dress he loves so much on you. Hell, he loves anything you wear that gives him an open window to look down there!

Kayn adores the way they feel against his own chest! But he loves them even more when they're pressed against his face~ It's the only reason why he loves being the little spoon whenever you two cuddle: It's just an open invitation for him to fall asleep with his face buried in your boobs!

He mumbles sleepily when he's cuddled up to your chest. In fact, you caught him in recordings multiple times doing it~

"Can I have some of mommy's milkies~?" He mumbles with his eyes closed, smothering his face against the surface of your chest.

You love it whenever he does this, primarily because you know it's when he's at his most vulnerable! You'll even tangle your fingers through his pink and purple hair, pressing kisses to the top of his head to make him feel even more secure, "Of course you can, baby boy~"

Sometimes, Kayn will impulsively grope you. And he has absolutely no shame in doing it. If you're both in public, he'll try to make it discreet, but you can't always guarantee it.

The easiest way for him to give your tits a feel in public is by hugging you from behind. Nobody would possibly suspect he's feeling you up (and giving you a sign that he's just so fucking horny). "K-Kayn..!" You snap at him, the lovelorn man grinning and casually kissing your cheek. "If you act like that, then they'll really know what I'm doing to these huge fucking tits...~"

Loves sucking on your boobs during sex! If Kayn's not doing that, he's sure to squeeze them when he's pounding into you. In fact, it's the first place his hands go whenever he's about to fuck you against a wall! He knows that you're sensitive there and that either way, you'll make him put his hands there!

"If you want more, you're going to have to beg, kitten~"

When Kayn is super needy and can't wait any longer to get with you- especially when the band is on the road- he'll have you get down on your knees and take off your shirt in the restroom. He'll force you to press them together and use them to service himself, making you watch him get off to them.

"Agh fuck..." He groaned quietly, gripping your hair. "K-Kayn..." you managed to huff out, the rockstar chuckling lowly as he glimpsed down at you with half-lidded eyes. His complexion was a deep pink as he continued to push himself against you. It doesn't take long for him to release himself on your face and tits~

His FAVORITE place to come is on your chest!! It's almost like he's marking them for himself~ It's his way of claiming you as his!

[sabersandsnipers]

Control

A/N: I wore black camo scrubs the other day and it made me feel so badass. This is inspired from one of Daemon’s scenes in House of the Dragon, so credit to that. Warnings for description of a panic attack, and violence.

Recommended Song: Runnin’ - 21 Savage

The tavern is bustling with energy. Loud voices fill your ears. Men bump against you every few minutes, “accidentally” grabbing your ass. You ignore them, though, not wanting to ruin your group’s night of fun. Finally being able to travel to a large town meant treating yourselves to a fine inn and drinks at the tavern.

You sit at the bar with a large mug of ale before you. A warm feeling sits in your belly. It’s been a long time since you had a good drink. Astarion stands on the other side of the tavern with Lae’zel, wine in hand. You admire how relaxed he looks, knowing how rare a feeling of comfort really is for him.

It doesn’t last. You watch as a sultry looking drow slowly approaches Astarion. She greets him by tracing her fingers up his spine and leaning into him. You can see him visibly stiffen. A hot fire begins to build in your chest. You take a deep breath, not wanting to cause a scene. Flaming Fists sit on either side of you, and the last thing you need is to find yourself behind iron bars.

But your urge to protect him is hard to smother. Ever since he admitted falling for you, you can’t help but want to shield him from every disgusting thing in this world. He’s already been through enough hell. He doesn’t need more.

Then the drow pushes Astarion into a chair, and she straddles him. Your world turns to red.

He couldn’t move. The drow in his lap has turned his muscles to stone. His fingers begin to tingle, a deep panic starting to take root within him. He doesn’t want this, but he can’t find the words to say no. His stomach turns sour as he flashes back to all the times he wanted to say no.

He physically jumps as a knife suddenly appears between the breasts of the drow. Her body jerks. She looks down at the weapon and goes limp. The knife is ripped free, and she falls to the floor.

Blood pools around the limp corpse. Astarion looks up to see you. Your eyes are alight with fire, hand gripping the knife so hard your knuckles turn white. He’s never seen such a glorious sight. Your leather pants straining against the active muscles of your leg. The violence in your stance, and the way you stare at the drow with disdain has him feeling lighter by the second.

“Disarm her!” The booming voice of a Flaming Fist breaks Astarion out of his trance.

“No need,” you say nonchalantly as you clean your knife. “We were just leaving.”

You turn on your heel and walk out. Astarion fumbles for a minute before rushing out after you.

“Are you alright?” You ask him once you reach the cold of the outside.

“Absolutely, love,” he responds. Because he is, now that the vile drow is dead.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I saw what she was doing to you, and then I saw the look on your face and I just…”

He tentatively takes your hand, the feeling of voluntary physical affection still foreign to him. “I’m fine now. I promise.”

Your hardened expression loosens a bit. You step closer to him.

“I never want you to feel like you’re trapped ever again,” you say. Your thumb traces circles along his hand. The small gesture causes warm tingles to trace up his spine.

“And I know that won’t happen. Because I have you,” he responds. He brings his hands up to cradle your face. He wants to kiss you, but there’s still that twinge of hesitation within him.

You see the look in his eyes, and the way his gaze flickers to your lips. “Don’t fight it,” you say. “You’re in control.”

Your words bring sweet relief to his conflicted mind. He’s in control. He just needs reminding sometimes. He tilts his head and pressing his lips to yours. You let out a sigh, melting under his embrace. It’s beautiful, being able to kiss you while knowing it was his choice.

He pulls away so he can admire your face. He takes in every detail, and traces his thumb along your cheekbone.

“Thank you. For helping me,” he whispers.

You smile. Your fingers wrap around his wrist. You pull his hand away and kiss his palm. “I will always protect you.”

Your words are filled with strength. The gods must finally be paying attention to him. How else could he explain such a creature existing in his life?

[lady-exophiliac-musings]

Mr. X

The hardest part of being a monsterfucker, as it turns out, is when you're in a situation in which you want to fuck the monster, but the monster was sent to kill you.

The large, tyrannical, immensely powerful being chasing you at a constant power-walk was drool-worthy, but he'd also taken multiple swings at you, given his orders and all. You've been forced to run at the merest glimpse of him for over an hour, when all you really want to do is shove him down on his back, climb on his dick, and ride him until sunrise.

It put you in the rather annoying position of being wet as hell even as you ran from him.

Lucky for you, it was easy to lose him, and from certain vantage points you got to see exactly how his mind ticked when he didn't have a target to follow.

His intelligence left a lot to be desired, to put it mildly. Without a target, he was reduced to checking in doors and windows, sometimes walking in circles until he could make a decision. And his object permanence was non-existent too, from how he stopped dead whenever he lost sight of whatever it was he was chasing. You can almost see him rebooting whenever it happened.

Which meant, after an hour of this, you were confident you could find a place to hide for a few minutes to rub one out and release this pressure that had built up inside you.

There was no way he'd find you before you were done, and you found him so god-damned attractive it'd left you blue-balled. You needed release.

Damn that sexy trenchcoat-wearing wall of mutant muscle.

By a stroke of luck, you find yourself in a hotel full of rooms in which you can relax on an actual bed to get this done. So you pick one, divest yourself of your bottoms, and lay out on your back to finish yourself off.

You close your eyes, envisioning that sexy beast, and bite your lip as you begin stroking yourself the way you like. Your walls quiver, wanting to be filled, as you work yourself, the pleasure you feel as you finally begin assuaging this pressure a thing of wonder.

It has you shivering and quaking in no time, a clear testament to just how badly that monster of a man had aroused you just by existing where you can't touch him.

What you were unaware of, as you touch yourself, is the fact that you hadn't fully closed the door to this room, and you didn't notice you'd attracted a voyeur.

The object of your masturbatory fantasies was right outside the room, able to see you legs-splayed on the bed as you play with yourself. He nudges the door slightly more open for a better look, his brain jamming with conflicting information.

He'd been ordered to eliminate all "threats", but right then you don't look threatening. You look... something, and it evokes a certain, unfamiliar kind of heat in him as he watches you. It even stirs a particular rhythmic, pulsing movement in his groin, trapped as it is in his trousers.

He struggles to comprehend what's happening as he looks between your rapidly-moving fingers and his own growing erection, attempting to process the surprising desire sparking in him. Eventually he gets the bright idea to tug open his pants to relieve the pressure on his dick, and he cants his head at how thick and hard it'd become.

It doesn't take him long to establish a direct connection between his erection and your open legs. Every time he looks at you, at your parted thighs and beckoning juncture, his cock surges with more blood, more need.

There's not a lot going on in his head, to put it gently, so when he gets even a vague indication of a direction, he follows it. And, after a few minutes of watching you, it clicks in his mind that his cock wants to be inside that wet, glistening opening between your legs.

He strides over to you, then, phallus exposed and so hard it's at an upwards angle. You still don't notice until you suddenly recognize his footfalls approaching you.

You jolt at the sound, terror piercing you at your vulnerable position (alongside a pulse of arousal you could never smother), and you start to scramble up to run -- only for him to catch your knee, tugging you towards the foot of the bed where he now stands.

It takes you a whole second to recognize that he's standing there with a raging hard-on and then another few seconds to make the connection.

Holy shit, had he really come here to fuck you -- fulfilling your raunchiest dreams in the process?

Evidently so, because he starts examining your entrance with his fingers, gently pulling on your skin to open it up to his viewing pleasure.

Your heart skips a beat. But, wet as you are, you really don't think it's a good idea to take a cock his size (not monstrously big for his size, but he himself is monstrously big, so it's still the heftiest thing you've ever had this close to your cunt) without some prep first.

You gesture and ask for patience, scooching closer to sit at the edge of the bed instead. He cants his head at you in total confusion, even as you bring your hands and mouth to his cock and begin wetting it for yourself.

His face remains impassive the entire time you're sucking him off, all the while analyzing his flavor and struggling with your own disbelief at the situation.

This dangerous bastard who'd obviously been trying to kill you earlier now wants to fuck you, is that it? Well, far be it from you to look a gift horse in the cock, and you're fairly certain that you can maybe get away from him after fucking him silly if he suddenly turns homicidal afterwards.

He's hard as actual stone as you work him, and his cock pulses with pleasure the entire time. It's almost funny; the pulses are so strong it physically moves your head each time--

Suddenly he makes a gruff noise and hot cum floods into your mouth, forcing you to release him. You're a little too stunned by the quick orgasm to even move aside as he keeps pumping lance after lance of cum on you, your hands working him as you gaze up at him in a mixture of disbelief and disappointment.

Was that it?!

You'd barely been sucking him for a minute, and now he was painting everything from your hair to your tits in lances of his thick, hot cum. You felt like a glazed donut.

But, to your surprise and delight, he wasn't done. He came, but he was still hard, and you think maybe the hard lines of his face had softened slightly from it.

Before you can say or do anything else, he pushes you back and tugs your legs open for him again. You bluster and stutter as he starts trying to line his cock up to your twat, urging him to go slow for you and taking over the task of getting the head in place.

You'd be lying if you tried to say you weren't already seconds from your own orgasm just anticipating this, your walls quivering with desire for this beast.

It was such a quick transition from him cumming to him trying to enter you that you can feel the heat of his semen on your skin as the head prods your lower lips (not to mention the flood of it on your head and chest), and it makes you shiver.

You almost climax as the head catches on your opening and slips inside, forcing your walls open for the rest of him. Then he begins thrusting, aiming for depth, and there's little you can do to dissuade him; you can't reach his hips with your hands to slow him and he has your legs by the knees, keeping you wide open for him.

But he listens and obeys well, you discover as you breathlessly direct him to be slower and gentler. He's so big and your walls so untrained for something his size that it's a struggle to accept him, and you find yourself airily gasping commands.

He strains you, and yet the pleasure you feel as he gains depth is out of this world. It feels like your walls are threatening to tear with every thrust he gives you, yet the combined pleasure of him slipping in and out of your gushing walls and the sheer knowledge of what's fucking you has your head spinning with ecstasy.

You cum before he's even halfway buried inside you, quivering and moaning on the bed. Your walls spasm and squeeze him inside you as your entire body is flooded with pleasure, basking in how damned good it feels.

Your body rocks with his thrusts for a moment as he keeps going through your orgasm -- then pauses with his own low groan, his cock giving its own pulses inside you. Your own pleasure only spikes higher every time that cock shifts inside you, heat pouring into you, and you realize with another beat of disbelief that he's cumming again.

Inside you.

Holy Hell, your orgasm triggered a second one for him!

That pulls a louder, lewder moan out of you and you wriggle your hips, suddenly wanting him even deeper. He's almost at your cervix already with half his shaft still outside of you, but you want all of him in you, as deep as he can reach.

A glimmer of hope reaches you as you come down from your high, recalling how he came all over your face and remained hard; surely him cumming inside you will have the same results? You don't want this to end yet.

You don't want this to end ever.

To your delight, he seems to have the same idea. It only takes him a moment of his own basking before he begins thrusting again, going at the same speed as before.

Now, though... now you want more. Your walls are more relaxed and wetter than ever thanks to your combined orgasms, so you spur him on with demands of deeper and harder and faster.

You were ready for the beast, now.

He obeys, again, his head canting as he watches you from above. He releases your knees to lean over you on his hands, his hips pumping you in accordance with your demands.

It doesn't take him but a few thrusts to hit your cervix.

And then he keeps going.

Your cunt stretches for him above and beyond what you'd ever thought it could, accepting every thrust of hard-as-iron member. It's so thick -- and, soon, so deep -- that it steals your breath, making you fall totally slack underneath him.

Your eyes roll back and your mouth salivates. You can hear nothing except the creak of the bed, the rustle of his leathers, and your own wheezing moans. You can feel nothing except the rocking of your body, the stretch of your belly, and the raw, overwhelming pleasure that spikes from your cunt to every inch of you with each thrust into you.

Mr. X isn't a romantic lover. He doesn't know what he's doing. He can only obey orders, and right now, you're the only source of them. But he's obviously enjoying himself, his hot cum inside you squelching with his movements and easing his way to full depth inside you.

You keep giving breathless commands as he goes, and soon your desires result in him jackhammering you to a degree you've never had before. You can't even be sure, as he's going at it, that you can survive it, but you're loving how fast and hard he's taking you.

You climax again in short order, once he's up to speed -- which is unfortunate, because the flood of overwhelming pleasure in you renders you unable to move or breathe, let alone speak, and his relentless fucking is entirely too much for you mid-orgasm.

You seize up from your orgasm, spasming, all your muscles clenching and contracting intermittently. Your walls attempt to strangle his pistoning cock, simultaneously trying to force it out of you for a reprieve and pull it wholly inside you and keep it there while you cum on it.

You shatter for him, all of your senses whiting out for a beat. Your ears start ringing, your heart thundering away in your ribs, heat flooding every inch of you from the onslaught of pleasure -- and still he keeps pumping you, keeps fucking you.

You need it to stop, one way or the other, but you can't articulate your need in the midst of your climax.

When your breath finally escapes your burning lungs, it's at a deep, heavy moan the likes of which you've never heard come out of your own throat. Your body is quaking everywhere from the force of your climax and the hard pounding you're receiving, and your walls haven't stopped trying to clamp down on the cock ruining it.

Your first attempts at begging him to stop and give you a moment are fumbling mocks of words, your tongue unable to work right just yet. Your hands clumsily swat at his arms, instinctively trying to find something to grip onto so you can physically stop him.

He does -- finally. He stops, and as your spinning mind slowly begins to settle, you realize why.

You have no idea when this started, but his cock is pulsing inside you again, his heat surging into you in quick, hard jets. You find yourself gasping in time with each one, your mind frantically analyzing his orgasm to ultimately conclude that this started at some point during your orgasm.

It just lasted all the way through it until now, and you recognize the pulses are steadily slowing to nothing.

In a daze, you look down at yourself -- and your jaw would've dropped open, were it not already slack from your intense climax.

You're a mess. Your belly is stretched around him and has obviously been further rounded by the amount of cum he's pumped into you, but your thighs and pelvis are also splattered with it. His clothes also bear lashes of it from your hard fucking, glossy webs of thick cum branching out from around where his cock parted them.

You wheeze a curse, flopping back on the bed, and find yourself staring up at him. Suddenly a shot of panic hits you, recalling that this monster had very much intended to kill you earlier -- but the panic fades as you start to recognize the look on his face.

It's faint, but he looks more curious than anything.

You swallow past the dryness in your throat and murmur, "Truce?"

[itgetsdark-x]

Hello! Since your request are open. Would you like to write some filthy Joel (boyfriends dad) x reader smut?

A/N: the thought of having Joel Miller as your boyfriend’s dad actually has me barking at walls?? Like???? Any guy wouldn’t stand a chance if his dad was the Joel Miller, like jesus. Anyway, I hope you like it anon!

Summary: After your boyfriend pushes your patience for the last time, his dad, Joel is there to help you feel better and truly show you what it’s like to be with a man.

Characters: BFD!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: 18+, minors dni! Actually just 4.6k words of smut, age gap, unprotected sex (do better!), oral (f receiving), cheating (technically)

You wanted to scream in pure annoyance, actually scrap that, screaming didn’t feel like it would be enough, you maybe wanted to smother your boyfriends drunken face with a pillow. You sighed deeply as you fumbled with the lock on his front door, he was draped over your shoulders and you gently jabbed him with your elbow to stand straighter so you could fight with the lock. 

“‘M gonna show you the best night of your life!” He slurred, a stupid smirk on his face. 

“Jack, with all due respect… shut the hell up. I meant what I said earlier, I’m pissed off. I’m dropping you home, getting you into bed and I’m leaving. We will talk when you’re sober.” You huffed, feeling triumphant when the lock suddenly clicked. 

You held the door open for him and gently pushed him to edge him inside the house. You dropped your handbag by the front door and held Jack’s arm to direct him to the stairs. 

You had been with your boyfriend, Jack Miller, for around two years; for the most part, he was a good guy, he was fairly kind and somewhere in you, you did love him but recently everything felt like it had shifted and tonight just felt like the final nail in the coffin. 

You had gone to a bar in town to meet up with both of your friends to celebrate your birthday, Jack promised he would only have one drink so you could relax and unwind but he got so stupidly drunk that he was barely standing. After a few shots, he then proceeded to hit on the bartender, right in front of you and then give an extremely detailed story of your sex life to his friends. He had ignited such an anger in you tonight that you weren’t sure you could ever put it out. 

“Jack?” You heard a familiar voice call from the kitchen as you were halfway up the stairs. 

You sat Jack down on a step and turned on yourself to look down the stairs, there he was stood, maybe the reason why Jack just didn’t seem to satisfy you anymore. You knew it was wrong, hell, the fantasises you had made you feel so dirty that sometimes you would shower in the hopes of washing away all of your filthy thoughts. Of course, it never worked and often, as you stood there in the shower, watching the water circle the drain you would find your fingers already travelling south to bury deep within yourself to your thoughts of this man. 

Joel Miller, Jack’s father. He was a handsome man, in his late-forties, he was a single father and the star in all of your recent fantasies. You couldn’t pinpoint when it started but from the first day you met him and shook his hands, the sparks shocked you through your body. There was something about his features, his eyes that made you feel like you had known him before. Jack’s mother had passed away when he was little and since then, it had been the two of them. Joel couldn’t have been sweeter to you, he was always inviting you round for dinner with them both, even when Jack didn’t think to do so and in general, he was the perfect example of a gentleman. You wondered where it had gone so wrong for Jack, he was the opposite. 

“Oh, h-hi Mr. Miller, sorry we are back so late. Um, Jack had a little too much to drink tonight so I’m just gonna go get him into bed and be out of your hair.” You mumbled. 

“Dad,” Jack hiccuped. “Look at her, gonna give her the best night of her life. Gonna have her screaming my name.” Jack laughed, swaying on the stair as he brought his hand up to slap your bare ass under you skirt. 

You yelped and batted his hand away, your cheeks burning a deep crimson with pure rage and embarrassment.

“Jack,” you warned. “I’m not gonna tell you again.”

Joel stood at the bottom of the stairs, he had folded his arms and his fists seemed to balled up into a tight clench. He had a deep frown settled into his brow and he shook his head. 

“Jack, that is not how us Miller men treat a lady, I’ve told you before. I’m so sorry darlin’ for the lack of my son’s manners, I promise I tried to raise him better.” Joel sighed. “Why don’t you go down to the kitchen and make yourself a drink, I’ll put Jack to bed and be down in a moment.”

“Oh, uh, I didn’t want to intrude, I was just gonna head home. Get out of your way, and all that.” You said softly, checking once more that Jack wouldn’t lean forward and slip down the stairs.

“Non-sense. It’s too damn late for that, you can stay. I’ll make up the sofa for you, if you don’t wanna stay in his room. Which, I would totally understand.” Joel laughed softly. 

“Okay, well, um, that’ll be lovely then. Thank you, Mr. Miller.”

“Darlin’ what have I told you? It’s Joel.” He smiled and squeezed your arm gently as you walked past him to head to the kitchen. 

You heard Jack mumbling something to his father as he was led upstairs but you couldn’t quite make it out, instead, you walked into the kitchen in a daze. Your fingers tracing where Joel’s hand had just been. It felt like a million tiny pinpricks erupted over your skin where he just touched you. It made you feel hot and pathetically, you felt yourself get slick. 

You grabbed a glass from the cupboard, filled it with water and sat yourself down at the kitchen island. You sipped your drink and looked around the familiar space, suddenly, you felt nervous. Maybe you should just run out the door and go home, you never really spent anytime with Joel as you tried to avoid it. It was out of fear that you would say or do something you would soon regret and partly out of knowing you seemed to turn into a babbling moron whenever the older man was near. 

As you sat there, your mind was suddenly filled with thoughts of the older Miller man and you couldn’t help but smile as you remembered the moment vividly. You were staying over, about six months into your relationship, it was late and you got up to use the bathroom; Joel was in his room, his door was ajar and there he was, spread out on his bed with his hard cock in his hand and his body illuminated by the blue light of his laptop screen. You tried to pull yourself away from the spot on the landing as you watched him in awe but you couldn’t, you weren’t sure how long you had been stood then until Joel’s groan pulled you out of your trance, as you went to walk away, he looked up and you were sure your eyes locked for a split second before you dashed back to your boyfriend’s room. You climbed back into bed, and shamefully, awoke your boyfriend to have sex. That had been the first time you properly orgasmed with Jack, to thoughts of his dad. You were embarrassed to admit it but that night, you moaned just a little louder in the hope Joel would hear it and know they were for him. It was never spoken about between the two of you, for which, you were thankful for. 

As your mind wandered, you absently rubbed your thighs together, relishing in the slight friction with each pass of your legs. 

“You okay, darlin’?” Joel asked softly, looking at you with a raised brow. “You look a little… flushed.”

You near jumped out of your skin, his voice sent a small shudder down your body and you sipped your water to calm yourself down. 

“Oh, sorry. I, um, guess I’m a little stressed. It’s all.” You mumbled. 

“I thought you were going to get yourself a drink?” Joel asked, rummaging through his liquor in his cupboard. 

“I did, I got a water.” You frowned. 

“Don’t be so silly, it’s your birthday weekend. Let me get you a proper drink; vodka, lemon and lime, right?” He asked, grabbing his bottle of fancy vodka and getting a fresh glass out of the cupboard. 

You held back a grin as Joel rattled off your drink of choice, you nodded at him and admired the way his arms flexed with each movement. He made you both the same drink and slid one across the kitchen island to you. You took a sip and sighed contentedly, almost as if the stress of the evening’s antics was being washed away with every sip of alcohol. 

“Thanks, Mr. Miller, I really appreciate it.” You said softly, leaning back into your seat with a soft sigh. 

“Darlin’ please, call me Joel. You’ve known me long enough, it’s Joel.” 

“Just feels impolite but thanks, Joel. I’ll be out of your hair tomorrow morning, maybe for good.” You mumbled looking into your glass and stirring the clear liquid with your straw. 

“For good?” Joel asked concernedly, he leant on the kitchen counter, his biceps flexing as he leant on them. 

“Y-yeah. I think I need to end things with Jack, god he’s such an ass!” You huffed before realising who you were speaking to. “God, sorry, Joel, I know he’s your son. I’m a mess!” You whispered, tears pricking your eyes. 

“Oh sweetheart, I’m sorry. Please don’t apologise.” He spoke softly, he was soon by your side and he stroked your back softly. “Jack is a moron, he should realise how lucky he is.”

You cried weakly, a few lone tears rolled down your cheeks as you focused on Joel’s large palm stroking your back. The next few seconds were a blur, you barely registered what you were doing but your lips had locked with Joel’s and you were kissing him roughly. Joel immediately held your face and deepened the kiss, he groaned as your tongue swiped over his bottom lip to enter his mouth. 

You turned your body in your seat so you were facing Joel and you couldn’t help but moan softly as his large hands found their way into your hair. You broke the kiss and breathed deeply, you splayed your hands over Joel’s hard chest and gasped in deep breaths. 

“Fuck, Joel. Fuck. I should go, I’ll speak with Jack in the morning. I’m sorry.” You rambled, pushing Joel gently so you could stand to leave. You wiped your face as you began to walk out of the kitchen, Joel grasped your wrist tightly and gently pulled you back to stop you from spiralling out. 

“Darlin’, wait a second.” He whispered. “Don’t rush off… c’mhere.”

You stopped walking and looked up at Joel with your wet eyes, you were panicked and your chest was heaving with panic.  

“I’ve wanted you, well, forever and ever since that night you caught me, well y’know. I heard your pretty little mouth that night, heard those moans and I knew they were for me.” He whispered, he was bringing his head closer to you and his lips ghosted over your parted lips. 

You sucked in a sharp breath, your cheeks were glowing with embarrassment and you opened your mouth to argue with him but Joel silenced you with a bruising kiss. His fingers held the back of your head as he controlled the kiss, you whimpered softly as your allowed yourself to be kissed by the older man, just like in your fantasies. 

Joel’s free hand groped at your breast, his fingers kneaded at the soft mound through your shirt and your mouth opened with a soft noise. 

“Joel,” You whimpered. “Maybe, maybe we shouldn’t. I should probably go.”

“I want you.” Joel said definitively. “I’ve wanted you since the first day I saw you; you were wearing that real pretty little summer dress and it drove me mad, stroked myself so hard to thoughts of you for so long.” He whispered, his hand still drinking in each dip and curve of your clothes body. “Feel.”

Joel took your hand and pressed it to the front of his jeans, you could feel how hard his cock was in his pants; he was thicker than Jack and longer too. You were feeling ashamed to admit it to yourself but you were wetter than you had been in a long time. 

“Driving me fuckin’ mad. Feel what you do to me.” He groaned as your hand squeezed his shaft. 

“You’re so big.” You whined. “I want to feel you.”

Joel didn’t hesitate for another second, he took your shirt and roughly tugged it over your head before he followed suit with your skirt. There you were, stood in your boyfriend’s kitchen and nearly naked for his father. You couldn’t help but feel vulnerable as Joel gently twirled you around so he could drink in your whole body. 

“You’ve been wasted for all this time, should be treated right. How about you get upstairs and I’ll show you how good a real man can fuck you.” Joel’s voice was barely above a whisper and it sent shivers right to your core. 

You gently crossed your legs, trying to stave off the throbbing of your arousal and you nodded weakly, you couldn’t quite believe this was happening. You knew it was wrong but you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore. Joel took your hand gently and lead you upstairs, you passed by your boyfriend’s room, the door was closed and you could hear his loud snores. Just hearing him sleep so peacefully whilst he knew you were upset enraged you but you pushed those sour thoughts aside as Joel pushed you into his room and he locked the door behind you both. 

“Take those pretty panties and bra off for me, darlin’ and lay down on the bed, show me your pretty little cunt.” Joel growled, keeping his voice hushed. 

You bit gently on your bottom lip and did as you were instructed, you undid your bra; your breasts fell from the material with a soft bounce and Joel watched you hungrily, he was palming himself through his jeans. You blushed under his hungry gaze and turned away from him to pull your panties off, you bent yourself over to give him a small show as the lacy material slipped over your ass. You bent down to pick the panties off the floor, letting Joel catch a long look at your wet cunt; he could see how wet you were, your lips were slick and begging to be filled. 

You smirked as Joel watched you, speechless, you turned back around and sauntered over to him, slipping the damp panties into his front pocket. 

“Something to remember me by.” You giggled before taking Joel’s shirt and pulling it over his head. 

You threw the old material of Joel’s t-shirt to the floor and immediately your hands were on the vast expanse of his tanned skin, your fingers gently raked through the sparse hair on his chest and you couldn’t hold back the small whine that slipped from your lips. He was so manly, so rugged and such a stark contrast to any of the guys you had been with before. 

“On the bed,” Joel instructed, flicking his head in the direction of his bed. “I wanna taste you.”

Your knees nearly buckled at his words and you weakly carried yourself to his bed; you laid down for him and eagerly spread your legs. Your arousal had coated your upper thighs and it had Joel nearly going feral at the sight. He quickly positioned himself on the bed, laid down on his front so his face was close to your sopping core. His fingers quickly went through your folds, collecting your apparent arousal on them. 

“This wet, all for me, hm?” He asked, kissing his soft lips up your thighs, travelling higher but not quite landing where you wanted them the most. 

You bit onto your lip to stop you from making a noise and you nodded eagerly at him; you leant up on your elbows so you could peer down at the male between your thighs. 

“Look at how pretty you are, darlin’. All spread out and wet for me, you needed this, didn’t you?” He asked softly as he pushed two digits into your pussy. 

“Yes!” You gasped out loudly, your hips bucked upwards as you looked at the male; his fingers alone were making you feel heady and weak already.

Joel started a quick rhythm, his fingers pulling out and disappearing just as fast into your greedy heat. He quickly dipped his head lower and timed it perfectly, just as his fingers pulled out, he flicked his tongue over your clit roughly and pushed his fingers back into you, curling them upwards. 

You were seeing stars, your body felt as if it was floating on a cloud and you never, in your wildest dreams imagined that you would be feeling this way at the hands of your boyfriend’s dad. 

“Fuck!” You cursed, your voice a little too loud. “If you don’t stop, I-I’m gonna cum already.” You whimpered.

Joel let out a breathy laugh against your clit, his hot breath fanning over your wetness and he just smirked before he suctioned his lips around the swollen bud and suckled gently at it. Joel sped his fingers up, he could feel you fluttering around his digits and it drove him mad, he couldn’t help but thrust at the mattress below him, just hoping to help his leaking cock feel a fraction of relief. You noticed his hips thrusting against the soft mattress and that, mixed with Joel’s skilled tongue and fingers; it had you cumming, hard. The fact he was so turned on from just eating you out made you feel crazy, Jack was never forthcoming with pleasuring you like that, and here was his dad, eagerly eating you out like he was dying from starvation. 

You whimpered through your orgasm as Joel’s tongue flicked at your clit before lapping at it eagerly, he pulled his fingers out and sucked on them, groaning at the taste of you. 

“God, you taste as good as you look. Come here, come taste.” Joel whispered, travelling back up the bed to be positioned next to you. 

He gently pressed his fingers into your mouth which you eagerly opened and sucked the digits in. You moaned around them as your tongue cleaned them expertly. 

“You see how good you taste?” Joel whispered, watching as you sucked his fingers and you nodded in response.

He pulled his fingers out from your mouth with an obscene popping noise and leant forward to kiss you deeply, his tongue was invading your mouth within seconds and you moaned; you could taste the tang of your arousal in his mouth. 

“Joel, please fuck me already.”

Joel laughed softly. “How do you wanna take me, sweet girl?” 

“However you want me, please. I just wanna please you.” You admitted submissively. 

“Gonna kill me off. On your hands and knees for me then.” He smirked. 

You were more than willing to get into that position for Joel, but you needed to see him first. You needed to feel his heavy cock in your hands before he fucked you senseless. You quickly worked on the fastening of his jeans, tugging them down roughly to reveal his tented boxers. Joel shimmied out of his jeans, albeit awkwardly as he allowed you to undress him. You pulled his boxers down, finally to let his hard cock spring up. 

You eagerly wrapped your hand around his shaft, your hand felt so small in comparison and you gave him a few testing strokes, your thumb swiping over the swollen head to collect his precum. Joel groaned beside you, he watched your hand stroke him and he gently thrust into your small fist. 

“I want you to fuck my throat, please, Mr. Miller.” You whispered, stroking him faster at the thought. 

“Jesus,” Joel groaned, screwing his eyes shut to anchor himself. “Can’t talk like that and call me that, you’ll have me cumming in an embarrassingly quick time.” He chuckled. 

You giggled, feeling giddy at his admission and you sped your hand up; his precum making your movements slick. 

“Please Mr. Miller.” You whined, your mouth watering at the thought of his heavy cock stuffing into your throat. 

“Not tonight, darlin’. I’ve been waiting far too long to have you, I don’t think I’d be able to cope.” He groaned. 

You rolled your eyes and released his cock from your hand to roll over; you got onto your knees and let the flat area of your triceps hold you up on the bed, you arched your back and allowed your ass to wiggle upwards for Joel. 

“Atta girl, didn’t have to ask you twice.” Joel cooed. 

You smiled, his praise making you feel eager to please him further, just anything to be good for him. Joel was quick to position himself behind you, he held the base of his hard cock and pressed himself to you, he passed his cock through your wet folds before he roughy thrust into you. His hands held your hips roughly and you gasped, your head lulling forward with the rough movement.

Joel groaned as he bottomed out inside of you, his hips were flush to your ass and he sensually rolled them to feel himself go deeper in you. You could feel yourself stretching around Joel’s thick length, he was the biggest you’d had and your fingers clawed at the sheets below you. You couldn’t help but moan as he pulled out and thrust forward once again, he was already building up a punishing pace, one that you knew would make you feel sore tomorrow. 

Joel was groaning behind you as he watched your tight hole greedily suck him back in as he thrust into you. You were everything he had wanted for months and the fact you were there, bent over for him and so willing had him going insane. His fingers dug into your skin roughly as he fucked you, his hips were snapping quickly but he still had a sensual rhythm going. 

“Feels so good.” He huffed, sounding a little breathless. “You. Feel, so good.” 

You were all but biting at the sheets below you, you were trying to keep yourself as quiet as you could be from the fear of Jack hearing you but Joel was making it difficult. You arched your back further and it had Joel hitting that glorious bundle of nerves within your sponges walls. 

“Mr. Miller,” you whimpered. “I’m close. I’m gonna cum.”

Joel pulled out of your abruptly, he held both of your hips tightly and he flipped your body on the mattress; it momentarily winded you, more out of shock than anything. You didn’t realise he was so strong but there you were suddenly, flipped onto your back. Joel held onto one of your hips again as he thrust into you. 

“I wanna watch your pretty face as you cum on my cock. I wanna see how crazy it drives you.” He groaned and he dipped his thumb down to expertly circle your clit. 

You clawed at the skin of his chest and you threw your head back with a loud moan, all inhibitions finally being freed. Your eyes fluttered shut in pleasure and Joel smirked as he watched your face contort and your back arched off the bed, he pressed a little rougher with his thumb and slowed his hips to a sensual roll so he could pleasure you more. The tip of his cock nudged into you just right and you were soon tumbling into the most intense orgasm you had ever experienced. 

“That’s right, babydoll. Cum for me, but open those eyes of yours, need you to look at me as you cum. Need to watch you. Look at me.” Joel cooed, speeding his thumb up. “Cum for me. This is what it’s liked to be fucked properly, tell me how good my cock feels in you. Dirty little girl.”

You opened your mouth to reply but all that came tumbling from your lips were pathetic moans as you were fucked through your orgasm. Your eyes fluttered as you stared up at Joel, you used all your might to keep them open as you clenched around Joel, trying to draw his cock in deeper. 

“S-so good.” You managed to squeak out. “Feels so fucking good, never been fucked so good before in my life. Need more.” You whined. 

“Fuck,” Joel cursed, his hips stuttering with his final thrusts. “‘M Gonna fill you up, gonna fuck my hot cum into your greedy little hole. You want it?”

You nodded at him and your eyes closed once again as the first spurts of Joel’s hot cum coated your inner walls. You whimpered at the feeling, relishing in the male’s release as he fucked himself through his orgasm. 

Joel rolled off of you with a groan, your chests were heaving with shallow breathes and your skin was coated with a light sheen of sweat from the effort. You made a small noise of discomfort as you stood. 

“I’ll be right back.” You said quietly and quickly left the room to use the bathroom. 

You cleaned yourself up and returned back to Joel’s room, he was sprawled out on top of his sheets, still naked as he breathed softly with his eyes closed. He looked so peaceful, so handsome and you truly just wanted to curl up against his chest and sleep.

“I uh, I should get dressed and leave. Um. Thank you for tonight.” You mumbled and rummaged around in the dark to find your bra that had been strewn on the floor. 

“Wait… you said you need to speak to Jack tomorrow and well, it’s already early hours of the morning. Just stay. Please, I don’t wanna have to worry about you driving home this late.” Joel mumbled. 

“I don’t know, Joel… it’s a bad idea, I feel it.” You replied quietly. 

“Just quit your arguin’ and get into bed.” He said, rolling his eyes; even in the darkness you could see him doing it. 

“Fine, god! You’re so bossy.” 

You obliged and found yourself curling up in Joel’s bed, you knew in the back of your mind it would probably cause trouble for you but you couldn’t quite care enough to stop it from happening. Joel got into bed with you, he wrapped his large arm around your waist and pulled you close to him. Sleep soon took you both.

When morning finally broke, sunlight drowned the room through the open blinds, the sheets were tangled between you both exposing your bodies and you yawned as you stretched in Joel’s arms. You rolled over to get comfy again before a familiar voice called out into the room. 

“Dad?!” Jack was stood there in the doorway, mouth agape and all colour drained from his face. “What the fuck?!”

“We can explain.” You yelped, taking the sheets to cover your bodies quickly. 

Joel sleepily sat up, rubbing remnants of sleep from his deep brown eyes and he squinted as his sight adjusted to the morning’s light. 

If you weren’t screwed the night before, you most definitely screwed now. 

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[qprstobin]

the scenic route

i saw this post by @henderdads yesterday and started CACKLING at the image of eddie trying to hide from steve only to stumble across the rest of his stalkers fan club, so here it is

Ao3 link

--

Eddie was pretty sure he was supposed to be better than this.

He'd had more than his fair share of ill advised crushes over the years. His middle school science teacher, the entirely too-nice-for-the-popular-crowd head cheerleader, the bartender at the Hideout that he sold coke to on more than one occasion. And yet, here he was. Leering after Steve Harrington.

(Crush was maybe too strong of a word - that would imply he felt any positive emotions towards the man other than carnal lust.)

Every day at work, Eddie told himself he would take the shortest path outside for his smoke break, and every day he ended up taking the scenic route.

It was like he couldn't help himself. He'd shove his hands into his pockets, and meander his way passed the food court, trying his hardest to seem natural as his eyes strayed over to the Scoops Ahoy.

And there he was, Harrington in all his post-popularity glory. Eddie wasn't sure whose bright idea it was to put the Scoops employees in sailor suits, but he wanted to shake their hand. Or slash their tires.

The shorts clung to Harrington's thighs, somehow even thicker than they were when he was still playing sports regularly. The little hat was less flattering, causing his signature hair to fall limp beneath it, but that was fine. Eddie had seen his hair in all its glory more than enough to fill in the blanks.

As he got closer, he could see that Harrington was chatting up a female patron - typical of the high school heartthrob. It sent a pulse of jealousy and disgust through him. Harrington looked up at the girl from under his eyelashes, pulling his pink, glossy lips into a smirk.

The things Eddie would do to that mouth with half a chance.

The girl let out a laugh, turning in a whirl of curls as she giggled with her friends. He would've thought that response was a positive one if Harrington hadn't immediately let his head fall forward with a groan. Robin Buckley, the mousy band geek Gareth was infatuated with last year, popped up from the back room with a white board that seemed to be a record of all of his strikeouts.

Harsh.

Seemed even pretty privileged popular kids had trouble wooing fair maidens sometimes. Who would've thought. A feeling of satisfaction curled in his stomach - both at watching Harrington get put in his place and knowing that he was still painfully single.

He didn't let himself examine why that was.

While watching the interaction, Eddie hadn't realized he had been slowing to a stop. Until Buckley looked his way. Panic surged through him and he dove to the left, towards a gathering of potted ferns that should be leafy enough to hide him and his hair.

There was a snag in that plan - someone was already hiding there.

Eddie stumbled, arms pinwheeling as he tried to stop himself from running over three middle schoolers. Several little hands snagged the front of his shirt, keeping him from pitching backwards and falling on his ass.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ-" he cursed as he wobbled to a stop. He clamped his mouth shut, taking in the three children in front of him.

The two nearest to him were barely holding back giggles, one a boy with an unfortunate bowl cut and the other a redheaded girl who looked like she was trying to judge him but couldn't smother her mirth. Another boy with dark skin and a bandana tied around his head was looking embarrassed, crouching as close as possible to the girl as he could.

"What the hell are you guys doing?" Eddie asked, unable to help himself.

"Same thing you are," Red replied with a smirk playing at her lips. He blanched.

"What."

"Eye candy," she said. It was clear what - or rather who she was referring to.

Bandana groaned softly, the embarrassment on his face deepening. Bowl Cut started giggling again. A fern was tickling Eddie's ear, and he desperately wanted to melt into the floor like the ice cream on a Scoops Ahoy cone.

Eddie didn't even bother to deny it. "You're like, 10. Aren't you a bit young for crushes?"

Red gave him an unimpressed stare.

"We're about to start high school, man," Bandana said as he wrinkled his nose. Judgment colored his tone.

"You don't look like the type to normally go for preps. So do you really have a leg to stand on?" she added.

Sheesh, the attitude on these kids.

Eddie refused to give her any ground.

"Also, I don't have a crush - I was dragged here against my will," Bandana continued.

"I can't believe my boyfriend is lying to my face like this."

"Steve's basically our babysitter, that's weird."

"I don't know," Bowl Cut piped up for the first time, "I think crushing on your babysitter is pretty normal."

Eddie's head was spinning as he tried to keep up with the back and forth. Steve Harrington was their babysitter? He pinched the inside of his wrist, convinced this whole situation was a bad trip or a surreal weed dream. It made more sense than a couple of toddlers claiming that Harrington babysat them regularly.

"I don't have a crush on him!"

"Then why do you keep asking him to 'shoot hoops' with you?" Red asked, turning her judgmental haze onto her sweating boyfriend.

"You know I'm thinking about trying out for basketball next year," Bandana said with an almost pretentious air. "I need all the practice I can get!"

"I didn't know getting smacked in the face with the ball when Steve takes off his shirt counted as practice," Bowl Cut said, a deceptively sweet smile on his face as he drove a dagger into his friend's back.

"DUDE!"

Bowl Cut and Red shushed him, tiny hands flying to cover Bandana's mouth. Eddie reflexively peeked through the fronds, checking to make sure the object of their well - their object hadn't noticed them.

(He hesitated to call him the object of their lust because the three in front of him were literally babies, but he refused to use the word affection in the same sentence as Harrington. Even if this entire conversation was throwing his carefully crafted view of the man through a loop.)

It was fine, though. Harrington and Buckley were wrapped up in their own world, chatting back and forth. If he had a heart he might even say they looked good together. Eddie's eyes strayed towards Harrington's fingers as he twirled his scooper in his hand.

He wanted to shove them in his mouth-

Not the time.

By the time he tuned back into the infants' conversation, Bandana was sulking. Clearly, he had lost, especially with how smug both Red and Bowl Cut looked. Red had even pulled out a little snack packet that she was triumphantly munching on.

"You brought snacks?" Eddie sputtered out, not sure if he was impressed or put out by the sheer balls on this little girl.

"Uh, yeah? Food court food is expensive," she said like it was a no brainer.

The balls, man.

He kinda wanted to be her when he grew up.

"Let me get this straight, you brought snacks along while you stalk your babysitter?" he asked anyway.

"I get hungry," Red said. After a moment, she rolled her eyes and pulled out another snack pack, throwing it at him. It smacked him in the face, but he managed to catch it before it hit the ground. "You're welcome."

"Thanks?" he replied automatically.

This may as well happen.

She distributed two more snack packs to her friend and her boyfriend, and the three returned to peering at Harrington through the ferns. Eddie just stared at them, once again feeling like he must have fallen into a different universe.

This whole thing was getting to be too much for him. His knees and thighs were starting to ache, and not for any particularly pleasant reason. He didn't want to know how long he had been crouched back here.

He needed to get out of here before he reached his limit. His boss may give him a lot of leeway, but he didn't want to keep pushing his luck hanging out in the food court for the rest of the day, babysitting Steve fucking Harrington's children.

Even if the view was pretty good.

"Well, this has been fun, but I need a smoke," he said finally. The three barely spared him a glance. Figuring that they were done with him, and because he didn't know how to leave well enough alone. "I'll leave you to your... stalking."

"Same time tomorrow?" Bowl Cut asked, turning that shy but cheeky grin onto him, revealing that not only had they done this before, but that they had seen Eddie here before.

Fuck. His face was turning red.

"Don't plan on it," he scoffed. The trio spared him disbelieving glances, but let him rock to his feet and start walking away without another word.

They all knew he'd be taking the scenic route again tomorrow.

[viburnt]

PUPPY BOY! AU HEADCANONS PT.1

About this AU: Puppy boy! Au is your normal MHA universe with a slight twist. Men possess dog traits (ears, tails, and sometimes large canines), it's hereditary from father to son. Some reactions like tail wagging and perked ears happen, but they have normal lives like any other (mostly, if they like you enough they can give you an “owner” title.)

Still working on this AU please, give feedback 🙏

Kirishima + Pitbull

@angelshimaa come get your dog, bb

• Eijirou is a Pitbull puppy boy, he doesn't have his tail or ears cut like many of his kind, but he does have the eyes an attitude.

• Plenty of people fear him because pitbulls have a bad reputation, but he proves the myth is false by being super kind and loyal! Besides, it's difficult to be scared of him when he welcomes you with such a sweet smile.

• You decided to let him into your life after spending a lot of bonding time with him. It'd be a lie if you said you weren't nervous at first, his pointy teeth were reason enough to be wary. He managed to dissipate any fear, whatsoever, his tail wagging effusively whenever you spoke.

• Like many pitbulls, Kirishima is energetic and loves to exercise, so he constantly drags you to daily jogs and weight-lifting training.

• Did I mention he gives you scary dog privileges? Again, many people associate pitbulls with aggressive behavior, so they think twice before messing with you, specially if he is by your side.

• He is oblivious of his size and weight, and will try to be a lapdog even if his size is not the most practical. “Oh, you are sitting on the couch? Let me just crush you with my weight to cuddle.”

• Not very eager of the idea of being collared like some puppy boys are, but will accept to wear one if you really want him to. Just don't expect him to wear it for long periods.

• It's funny to introduce him with a scary and ominous nickname that contrasts with his kind and gentle personality. “This is my friend Bone crusher planet destroyer” *Kirishima waving his hand happily in the background* “A real menace!”

• Will not hesitate to smother you with PDA if another puppy boy tries to approach you.

“You're home, you're home!” Kirishima said, opening the door for you before you could even finish putting your key in the lock set. You'd only been away for a couple of hours, yet - in Kiri's mind- an eternity had passed. He had missed you so much!

“Hey, buddy, did anyone come while I was gone?” You asked, your hand finding its way to the soft black fur of his ears. It was easy to tell he liked it, specially when his tail wagged so rapidly. “No, no one came - Hey, I smell something on you.” Eijirou pointed out, sniffing your clothes a little. “You were with other men!” He pouted, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Well, it was a party. Of course, there were more people.” You giggled, leaving your bag on the kitchen counter.

Kiri was not having it, his strong arms locking you into a tight embrace. "Now I gotta cuddle you until my scent is there again!" He claimed, throwing you into the couch to cuddle for the rest of the evening. Oh, if only people knew how much of a baby your scary pitbull was!

Dabi + Dobberman

@dabislittlemouse your puppy bites!

• Even if this scary looking dog may seem like some sort of hell hound when your first meet him, he comes from a very selective bloodline after all! His breed would be a Dobberman, with his ears pointy and tail short from being cut at a young age. Also, albino dobbermans have blue eyes! And so you have Touya (white fur) before becoming Dabi (black fur).

• He knows people fears him just by looking at their reactions, and he enjoys it! Dabi wonders, however, why you didn't run away the first time you approached him. He thinks you are very dumb for not being careful around him, but doesn't mind your company at all.

• Hates the idea of an owner but can't help the tail wag whenever you compliment him or do something that he finds exciting. The first time you see that reaction is when you tell him how cool he was!

• Sometimes allows you to see his canines and smirks when he notices how much you like them. Dabi likes to tease by saying "Do you want me to bite you that bad?"

• Dabi IS the definition of scary dog privileges. Looks like he'll bite and WILL bite if someone tries to approach you.

• He also refers to you as "Lady" because, in his eyes, your dynamic with him is similar to the "Lady and the tramp" story... Except the tramp is more of a hurt dog that turned aggressive against everyone except you.

• Won't admit it but enjoys resting his head on your lap whenever you are sitting, this only happens in private though. Bonus points if you caress his hair and ears, you can see the stump of his tail wag!

"Dabi, why are you standing under the rain? You'll get sick!" You worried, watching the man waiting for you outside your workplace. His black spiky hair had turned slick and damp, but his ears remained perked up with attentiveness as he watched you step out of the building. "Just making sure you walk home safe, nothing else." He grunted with his hands inside the pockets of his coat. "There were some drunk fucks a few blocks down."

You pulled out your umbrella and shielded him, "Yeah? Will you put them in their place if they misbehave?" He heard you joke, but the dark smirk he had on his face was enough to tell you an answer. "Who says I didn't take care of them already?"

Your mouth gaped for a moment in both worry and amazement, "Well, as long as they still breath."

"Yeah, they do... I think." Dabi snorted, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and flashing you a grin. "Now, let's get you home."

Bakugo + Chihuahua

@shonen-brainrot Your man is a Chihuahua, can't convince me otherwise

• A lot of people think Chihuahuas are evil, crazy and aggressive rats. Most of the time, they'd be wrong, but in Katsuki's case, the stereotype applies... partially. Chihuahuas are very friendly and social under the right circumstances, but if they get too spoiled or babied, they can develop a rather snarky and corrosive personality! So, on one hand, he is very attentive at home and knows when and where to be cooperative; on the other, if you push his buttons, he won't hesitate to bite.

• He has big fluffy ears, always pointing towards the sky. The tail matches, coated in soft cream fur. Hates when people tries to pet him and will get easily annoyed with baby talk; he is supposed to be scary, not some sort of fashion accessory people could coddle!

• Anxious, but not in the "I will have a mental breakdown and cry" type. He is anxious as in, "I feel vulnerable or attacked in this situation and will maul anyone who tries to approach."

• Like many Chihuahuas, he likes to be treated as a "big dog". Stands all strong and stern, plays rough, and will pick up a fight with people twice his size if he somehow thinks he can win (happens often, no one knows how). Definition of delulu tiny dog, and sometimes needs a reality check.

• Won't use a collar! At least not in a visible way. If you end up being his significant other, he will wear a collar but very subtly.

• Doesn't handle extreme temperatures very well, specially considering his quirk. Give this pup a sweater for God's sake!

"Goddammit, stop touching my damn ears!" Bakugo barked, swatting your hand away from him as you giggled. "Sorry, they're just too cute! Look at them twitch when I poke them." You pointed out, earning a growl from the blond. In a swift movement, he pinned you down on the couch, frowning and baring his teeth to you.

"I'm not your pet!" He huffed but the smirk on your face made his eyes widen in realization: he still was wearing the collar you gave him, tucked underneath the shirt of his uniform. "Relax, I won't do it again, ok?" You assured.

With a flustered face Bakugo let go of you, ears dropping with embarrassment. "Shut up, dumbass..." The blond mumbled, hiding his adorned neck with his clothes. "Has anyone seen it?" You asked curious. "Of course not! And I would kill them if they do." Smiling, you giggled. He was such a grumpy puppy!

[wxnheart]

Hi I was hoping you take requests? There’s this song that I recently discovered and it made me think mostly of König but you can do the other boys if you’d like to.

I was going to ask for POV of König (or any of the boys) with a shy s/o and the song is this: https://youtu.be/COSahj2SZqQ

Thank you and Happy Holidays! 🎉

𝐒𝐡𝐲!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐒/𝐎 - 𝐒𝐨𝐚𝐩, 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐊ö𝐧𝐢𝐠

part two

Deeper than I've felt it before with you, baby I feel I'm falling in love with all my heart...

𝐊ö𝐧𝐢𝐠

You're so cute, Schatzi.

When you smile, there's always a hint of bashfulness there. It's bright, radiant, and makes his day every time. Never stop smiling for him.

König remembers those moments before you two became a couple. He remembers the longing in your glances. He remembers looking at you the same way. The mutual affection was there. It had always been there but you two were just too damn shy to act on it. Until now.

You were two peas in a pod, cheeks burning under each other's lovestruck gaze; your fingers tentatively touched and explored each other and for once, König didn't care who noticed. Time had slowed, his surroundings became a blur, and all he saw... was you.

Even now, all he sees is you.

And it is love. It burns brighter than his cheeks and comfortably shields him just like his mask. It invigorates him and there's nothing he looks forward to more than your smile, bright, radiant, and bashful, greeting him.

And for once, König didn't care who noticed.

𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 '𝐒𝐨𝐚𝐩' 𝐌𝐚𝐜𝐓𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐡

Oh-ho, you're shy! Heh. Soap likes it. Likes it a lot, actually.

Shy wasn't something he encountered often. Not in his line of work. Couldn't afford to, really.

The same could be said for his personal life, too. And so when you came with your breathy laughter and coy gaze, Soap knew he was smitten.

Of course he was. He'd be a fool not to be crazy about you.

And if there's one adage Soap has learned to live by, it's to never judge a book by its cover. Shy didn't mean scared. It didn't mean weak. It didn't mean different or inefficient. It just meant SHY and fuck everyone who thought otherwise.

You proved it each and every day. You were strong where it counted. You were sharp and fucking brave. You held the fort down whenever Soap was away. You were his rock when he needed reassurance and grounding.

Yeah, he loved you. Loved you lots, really. Loved your breathy laughter and coy gaze. He loved your wit, your courage, and your earthy wisdom.

And Soap knew he'd be a fool not to.

𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 '𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭' 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲

God, he felt like a kid with a crush when it came to you.

He couldn't stop staring at you and you usually wouldn't stare at him at all, and whenever he did manage to lock gazes with you, you'd quickly avert your eyes. What the fuck?

Simon would be lying if he said he didn't find it cute the way you'd look away and smile to yourself knowingly. No matter how shy you were, you weren't oblivious to the way he felt. You fucking glowed under the intensity of his stare and like hell would he stop. You were an enigma wrapped in a secret and smothered in riddles that he was intent on solving.

And whenever he thought he made progress, there you were to make him realize he was nowhere near close.

And yeah, that's what led to him making the first move. That's what led to you two falling in love, becoming a couple, and fuck if he isn't the happiest bastard alive.

Sometimes Ghost wonders if this is what his parents were like before their demons made fools of them both. Did his mother smile to herself all shy and reserved and did his father want her even more? Or, shit, was it doomed from the moment they first laid eyes on each other?

Sometimes he wonders if he's destined for the same thing. Sometimes...

But Simon was determined to be better than his father. He was determined to have a fulfilling relationship. You were an enigma wrapped in a secret smothered in riddles and if it took the rest of his life to figure you out then so be it. Like hell you're getting rid of him that easily, love.

[jinnify]

the silent lover — lee minho

pairing: lee know x y/n genre: hurt and angst with a happy ending!! warnings: y/n is insecure, brief mention of sex, poor communication until its too late word count: 2.3k now playing: restless by bibi

— It’s no secret that Minho is a huge softie. However, it’s easy to forget when Minho tends to move in silence rather than outwardly expressing his love for people, the way Felix or Jisung do. Since Minho is an introvert, he likes to clean up after you when you’re in a hurry or send photos of your favorite flowers whenever he comes across them while he’s out for work. You learned this about him before you two even started dating, and of course, it’s something you’ve understood about him.

You were not much of a PDA type of person yourself, but sometimes you couldn’t help but ask yourself if maybe you were doing something wrong. Sometimes, you’d catch yourself wondering when Minho will cling onto you the way Jisung clings to his partner or kiss you the way Hyunjin smothers his partner in kisses before he has to start practice. At first, it only crossed your mind now and then, not bothering you as you quickly pushed it away, reminding yourself that if Minho didn’t want to, he didn’t have to. Suddenly, it was every other night that you’d lay in bed, wondering if Minho didn’t like you enough to be that way. As much as you tried, the thoughts wouldn’t go away.

Again and again, you told yourself Minho was just not the type of person to be affectionate in public, exactly the way you weren’t. So why was this bothering you so much? Soon enough, you found yourself talking to Jisung about this, explaining that you didn’t even understand why you had suddenly grown to crave some physical affection from your boyfriend. It wasn’t as if he didn’t show you he loved you. Minho always verbally reassured you he loved you and had a healthy sex life that left you both more than satisfied. So what the hell was the problem?

Jisung only quelled your confusion a tiny bit, replying that it was probably that “some people just want to feel the love sometimes,” along with a simple shrug. It made sense! Or, at least, you certainly tried to convince yourself that it did in your head. You never brought it up to Minho when you had these thoughts. You didn’t think it would change much anyway. Minho was a person who kept to himself, and you didn’t was to force a change onto him.

After almost two months of feeling this way about your relationship, you decided to distance yourself from the group to figure out if you were just jealous of how the other members were with their partners. You stopped accompanying Minho to practice as often as you used to. It made you feel guilty when Minho told you the boys asked about your absence, but you figured sooner or later you’d be able to go back since you would have figured your little situation up. Since you and Minho had been in a relationship the longest, you had essentially moved into the dorm with them, the other group members eventually inviting their partners to stay over whenever they wanted. You tried for it not to affect you, but you couldn't help but feel envious of the other couples whenever you caught Felix and his partner making out on the couch when they thought they were alone or when you’d see them walk out of their rooms with their boyfriend’s shirt on while you woke up in your PJs.

You virtually moved out after that last one. One by one, your belongings started to disappear around the dorm. Of course, this didn’t go unnoticed by any of the boys, but none of them asked about it. You’d still go over anyway; you just had to check that none of the other couples were home while you were there. Minho always liked to cook with you. He loved seeing how happy it made you to know you were involved in his hobbies, but eventually, he stopped cooking around you and suggested you watch movies with him. Most of the time, this consisted of him typing away on his phone on one end of the couch as you cuddled into a pillow on the other side.

You stopped hanging out around the dorms as much after you noticed that he was never paying attention to the movies anyway. Either way, you still had your dates together. You two often tried out new restaurants without hiccups, but on the days that Minho invited you to company events, you always hesitated to accept. It wasn’t so much that you didn’t want to go, but more so the fact that you’d be around the others. The Stray Kids’ members were not the most gracious drunks. It usually led to them being tucked away in a corner dry-humping their significant other. That part wasn’t what bothered you. It was more so all the flirting that happened before that.

Minho noticed all of this, of course. He caught how you’d stare too long at Seungmin’s arms whenever he held his partner and how your smile would falter when Changbin would yell about how cute his spouse was. More than anything, Minho was perplexed by this. You both made it clear that neither of you minded the lack of public displays of affection, no matter how big or small. Minho had never seen you so upset, and it bothered him. Your thoughts and feelings meant everything to him, and the fact that you hadn’t brought up what was bothering you and instead decided to stop seeing the rest of the boys broke his heart.

It had been about a week since Minho last saw you in person. The heaviness that had taken residence on his chest had only gotten heavier since then. He didn’t know what to do at this point. Every phone call he had with you kept getting shorter and filled with awkward silences. He could feel you slipping from him and was currently pacing in his dorm living room, panicked. “I’m going out! I’ll be back in a bit!” he yelled to his dorm mates. Before Jeongin could reply with a quick ‘ok,’ Minho was out the door and over in the other member’s living room.

Minho felt the last bit of his broken heart shatter when he laid his eyes on your crying figure in Jisung’s arms. He stood frozen as you pulled away from Jisung and walked into the kitchen as quickly as you could with blurry vision. Jisung talked in a hushed tone to not wake the sleeping members, “you need to talk. I’ll let you guys have some privacy.” Before Jisung had even turned his back fully on him, Minho was making his way into the kitchen.

He didn’t know what to do with himself, standing behind you as you wiped your eyes with a napkin. He merely watched as your body slowly stopped trembling, “I’m sorry.” He heard alarms go off in his head as he heard you sniffle, “I don’t know why I’ve been feeling like this. I tried not to be annoying. Instead, I tried to suppress these feelings, but I still can’t stop them from appearing. I feel our relationship is falling apart because of me, and I don’t know how to fix it.” Minho felt his heart break all over again when you turned to look at him with wet eyes and trembling lips, “I think we should break up.”

The man unexpectedly pulled you into his arms, surprising you both with his actions, “please, don't say that,” he whispered into your shoulder as you broke down again into his chest. You never wanted to do this; Minho was your person, and you couldn’t ever imagine losing him, much less over something like his ways of saying I love you. Minho felt his throat close up as he felt your arms wrap around his torso, finally hugging him back. He tried to blink away the tears that had begun to build up in his eyes, “can you please tell me what this is all about? I can’t lose you, y/n.”

Minho pulled himself away from you, grabbing a napkin to wipe your eyes and nose, “please, baby. You know you can talk to me about anything.” His hand coming up to bring your gaze to his, “are you calm enough to talk?” He watched your face as you took a deep breath, nodding your head, “please don’t laugh at me.” He snorted at your request, amused with how cute you could be in a moment like this. “I can’t promise I won’t,” he smiled down at you as you whined, burying your head into his chest again. Minho had never seen you like this. He knew you prided yourself on being able to handle situations maturely and didn’t ever think there would ever be a day when you’d be cuddling yourself into him.

He didn’t mind this change, of course. Although your hugs were far and few, he enjoyed every single one. He patted your head as you looked back up at him, “okay, baby. I’ll try not to laugh.” He felt a vibration run through his chest and heard you mumble something. His eyebrows scrunched as he chuckled, “you’re going to have to bring your head up if you want me to actually understand you, yknow?” He felt you sigh into his chest, letting your arms fall to your side as you looked up, “I want you to kiss me.” Minho had never been so confused in his life.

“I do kiss you, y/n,” he deadpanned.

“Not the way the other members kiss their significant others,” he heard you trail off as you looked at your hands. So that’s what this was about; he was right. Minho let out a sigh as he unwrapped his arms from you, bringing them both up to cup your cheeks. He noticed how your ears had turned warm as you closed your eyes. A smirk spread across his lips as he brought them closer to yours. He felt your breath fan against his lips as he closed his own eyes, abruptly moving to kiss your forehead instead. He laughed as you lightly punched his chest, whining at him for being such a tease.

He threw his head back as he let out a loud laugh, “I’m sorry, y/n. You're just so easy to tease!” Minho pulled you back into his chest when he noticed your pout, his heart bursting as he wondered how you could be so cute. He moved your hair out of the way as he smiled down at you, “what’s this about?” He kissed your forehead again, this time much more tenderly, as he waited for your response.

“This, I guess.”

His head tilted to the side as he tried to decipher what you had meant, “me teasing you..?” He felt bad as you sighed into him again. “I just,” he watched as you tried to formulate the sentence in your head, “I’d like it if you showed me you loved me in this way more often.” Minho smiled sadly as he listened to you, “baby, why didn’t you just ask me instead of trying to break up with me?” He felt guilty as he realized that he should’ve asked you what was wrong instead of staying quiet this entire time. “I don’t know. You had always expressed that you aren’t too fond of public displays of affection before we started dating,” he watched as your eyes began to water again, “and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or like you had to change something just to make me happy.” Minho looked away as his eyes welled up with tears again, taking one of his arms off you to wipe them away.

“I’ll always be willing to try something if it means it’ll make you happy, y/n.”

He smiled as you whined again, heavy tears rolling down your cheeks, “stop being so sappy! It’s making me cry!” Minho wiped your tears away as he leaned in again. His breath hitched as he closed his eyes first, this time. He let out a whine of his own as he slowly kissed you. He pulled back in shock and embarrassment, feeling his ears turn hot from what had just happened. It was now your turn to laugh at him, finding it cute. “Please don’t tell anyone about that,” he pleaded as a Han Jisung burst through the swinging door. “Maybe she won’t, but I definitely will!” Jisung doubled over in laughter as he pointed at Minho. He yelled out as he chased Jisung through his house, not caring about the other members sleeping.

The next time Minho met with you is during a practice he invited you to join. As soon as you stepped through the practice room door, he picked you up bridal style, carrying you around the room as he clamored on about how much he loved you as the other boys laughed. Once he felt satisfied, Minho placed you down, pulling you closer to him. “Min, when I told you I wanted PDA this is not what I meant,” you laughed. “Oh, then what about something like this?”

Before he could let you process his question, his hand was bringing your chin up to kiss him. He felt you smile into the kiss as he heard the rest of his group members cheer from behind you, his heart fluttering in his chest. He felt his body get hot as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. “Min! Not here!” You yelped as you pulled away, swatting at his shoulder in the process. He laughed as his ears burned a bright red, “I thought this is what you wanted?”

“I wanted you to be cute!” “I am being cute, y/n!”

© jinnify— reblogs appreciated

[love-toxin]

jump - cha hyun-su

a/n: sweet home is giving me serotonin for midterm season u know i had to do it <3

(cws: gn pronouns, minor sweet home s1 spoilers, suicidal reader + suicide attempts, puking, failed OD, trauma bonding, mild lewd mentions, omg they were neighbors, dark meet cute)

wc: 3.2k

August 1 - 2020

1410 - Cha Hyun-su.

Otherwise known as your unofficial, non blood-related, possibly-separated-at-birth-twin. Why? Because for a year and a half, you've been living as the official Green Home recluse. Now a second recluse has moved in right down the hall.

“Maybe we dedicate the fourteenth floor to up-and-coming college dropouts now.” You've heard that spoken under the breath of neighbours in the lobby, heard variations of it giggled between nosy ladies that have gotten too old to call it gossip. If they're resorting to gossip about two residents who have turned hikikomori, they're wasting their breath. Not much goes on in your apartment that anybody would want to gossip about.

As for Hyun-su? You're not sure. Sometimes you hear the tinny sounds of gunfire through his metal door. Other than that, nothing. So he games and eats ramyeon, and that's it? If it is, it's a little surprising. He doesn't look the type at first glance. In fact, he looks like he'd fit in with the popular guys you went to highschool with. The bulk box of instant noodles he ordered lies askew in the hallway, which you suppress the urge to kick as you walk by.

Your stomach rumbles. Wish I had the money to order ramen in bulk. Your life's savings jingles pathetically in your pocket: a few won scattered amongst pocket lint. The flickering of the lights overhead should be enough of a cue that you've fallen far in life. This apartment complex is a shithole, and aside from the odd cigarette or two you can snag from the convenience store there's really not much you get joy out of at this point. Food, sex, music, it's all the same. At least touching yourself is free. Not for much longer if I don't come up with rent next week. You absentmindedly kick a crumpled ball of paper down the hall. Unlucky as ever, your sandal goes flying with it, and tumbles right through the door and down the steps before you hear it hit the landing.

“Son a bitch,” You sigh under your breath, and with a moment of hesitation you hop along on one leg. No way are you gonna touch that filthy floor with your bare foot. Each step you take with help from the railing, and by the wall at the end of the landing lies your abandoned shoe–lying on its side like a piece of trash someone couldn't be bothered to throw away. You hop forward and wiggle your foot back into it, toes first. “Home sweet home.” You sigh sarcastically. Each step downstairs after that feels just as dooming as the last.

August 8 - 2020

I think I might have to die soon.

The blue-white glow of your phone screen is all the light you've seen for days. You missed the rent payment. Your application for an extended due date was denied. You're getting kicked out at the end of the month.

Am I in hell already?

A frustrated huff escapes you. Your phone clatters as it hits the wall, but if it's broken or not, you don't care enough to get up and check. What's the point in writing out your feelings if you aren't gonna survive long enough to reflect on them?

You pull the covers higher over your head. I'm doomed. The world is over. You stick your hand out from beneath the warm covers to reach the dial of your CD player, and turn it. Click. No power. They cut off your electricity already.

You fall asleep to the sounds of silence and your own breathing under the smothering covers.

August…something.

You kneel hunched over your toilet, expunging every ounce of fluid and bile from the hellish depths of your stomach. You've been puking for over an hour but there's still stuff coming out. With a loose, loud grunt you bury your knuckles into your stomach in a swift thud, forcing out one last expulsion of acid and chunks of food you probably ate ten years ago in the process. With a heave of laboured breath you sit back and slump against the cold tile wall of your bathroom.

Bad idea. If you work up the courage to try this again, you're sure as shit never using pills for it after this. You swear you could feel each one as they came back up for vengeance, the burn in your throat harkening to the amount of dry-swallowing and gagging it took to get them in there. You'd rather just jump out the fucking window at this point. Sorry to whoever has to clean up the mess.

A pass over your face only smudges the tears drooling down it. This is seriously pathetic. Your sniffles echo off the grimy tile like the chimes of a bell, they sound far-off but they hurt your ears with the vibration. Everything hurts. Your chapped lips burn and your stomach aches with every clench around empty air.

Can I just die now? Am I allowed to die? Your knees hit your chest and you sob your questions out to nobody. Nobody's here and nobody cares. If you weren't a coward, you would've jumped already. You would've jumped two weeks ago when you knew you didn't have the money. You would've-

Ching ching. The doorbell. Ching ching. Right now? Seriously?

Ching ching. Ching ching. Ching ching.

“I'm coming,” You rub your tears dry with an aggressive touch and get one last sniffle out. A single splash of cold water on your face in the sink is all you have a chance to do. Fucking landlord, probably. Probably looking for one last chance to hassle you about the money. Nobody wants to move here, it's easier to keep a tenant than find a new one–or maybe he wants to kick you out early. If that's the case, it'd be the icing on the cake for this absolutely wretched excuse for a life you've ruined.

Ching ching. Ching ching. Without bothering to check the doorbell monitor on your way by, you head for the door and reach out to brush the handle. It's only by sheer coincidence that you pause, and in a moment of clarity, bow your head to peek through the peephole before you turn the handle.

“What the shit-” The rug trips you up as your steps hustle backward, a yelp escaping you as your back hits the floor and you scramble up to sit and stare back at the door in horror. Whatever that was, it…it wasn't…

You swallow dryly. Your hands feel numb. You flick your gaze from the door to the handle and back again, watching with intent fear as whatever it is that's outside keeps ringing the doorbell until it stops. That's the moment the world itself goes quiet.

“I…hear you…”

Your heart itself ceases its erratic beat in that moment. The grin curling up at the creature's dark lips is palpable in its voice. That head of exposed, honeycomb-like brains that you spied through the peephole comes alive in the squishy, spongy sounds that emanate from the other side of your front door.

Bang.

A bulb-like protrusion explodes out from the metal, leaving behind a deep indent that will forever mark the spot where the monster tried to get in. Bang. Bang. Two more in succession show up in the squealing steel of your door. It's trying to get in. It's not going to stop until it does.

“I hear you!!” It shrieks in tandem with your terrified screams. “I hear you! I hear you!!” The cackling of its cracked voice burns holes through your palms and into your eardrums, your hands not nearly enough to block out the horrendous screeching of metal on metal. In a bid of panic, you scramble to your feet and away from the bending frame of your door. Your toenails scrabble against the carpet and nearly catch on the loose threads as you close the distance to the window. You left it open to let the stuffy air out, but now it's an escape hatch. A way out. Your palms grip cool metal as you raise yourself up to the sill and crouch on it on the soles of your feet, perched like a bird pre-flight as you look out into the mid-morning sky and back to your battered front door.

This is it. This is the last chance you'll ever have to look out into the world you're leaving behind. The sky is clear today, oranges and light pinks streaking across the scattered clouds and dissipating more as the sun creeps into the air. The breeze tastes cool and crisp on your tongue, a stark contrast to the warmth that the glow casts over your trembling body. God, I don't wanna jump after all. I just want to look at this view for just a little longer.

Fresh tears chill themselves against your skin in the breeze, but your last, wishful peace is broken by a sudden clang. Like something brittle thudding against a solid surface. The sound draws your head sideways in an instant. The wind whips your hair away to frame your distraction in perfect view, hanging halfway out of his window two doors down.

He stares at you with brown eyes, once blank, now deep with urgency and fear. Hyun-su has a broken mop in hand that he's since stopped smacking against the wall once he's got your attention. He swallows and you watch his adam's apple bob in his throat.

Sorry, I've got to die right now. Those words that you feel brimming at your lips fall silent as Hyun-su motions to you. But you just stare with glossy eyes and a pained smile, because what can he do? There's a monster breaking down your front door, and the last hinge is barely holding on. You want to mouth the words “I'm sorry”, but he suddenly disappears.

It's only a moment before you hear the banging. Like a door swinging open and shut on its squeaky hinges, the shunk shunk shunk shunk resonates through the whole complex and just about vibrates you off the sill entirely. But you cling on this time because the thuds and squealing at your door are growing softer. Soon, the noises stop altogether as you hear a screech and the heavy pattering of the creature's footsteps leading away. In just as much time as it took to decide to throw yourself off the fourteenth floor, you've been left in peace again.

It takes about a half hour before you're ready to move from your perch, to step down on the freezing floor and brace your shaking legs by leaning against the wall. You keep checking all day to see if Hyun-su reappears. You don't see a thing, save for the sunset that marks the dusk of a day you didn't think you'd ever survive.

August ??? - 2020

If Hyun-su comes back, I'll sleep with him. On my life. Or I'll kill him. I haven't decided, honestly.

Your phone's battery is almost dead, and the screw that holds the hinge is so loose it's practically flopping all over the place. It's gone from a flip phone to a flop phone, realistically. Without the internet or cell service, all it's good for is a brick to hold your thoughts inside. Maybe it'll be all that's left of you once you're gone.

Is Hyun-su dead? That thought has been cycling round your head like it's circling a drain for about a day. The more you think about it, the more sure you are that he must've led the monster away to try and draw it from your door. The brain monster hasn't come back since, but neither has Hyun-su. You've tried everything from calling him to aiming a mirror out your window to get a glimpse into his apartment, but nothing. And if you knock on his door and he's not there, what will you do?

You've laid in bed awake all night, and with your stomach growling painfully you sit with your back against the mangled front door and wait. Your eyes shut at the tenth hour of the morning. Come back, Hyun-su. Please come back. Why'd you save me just to leave me alone again? You better not have died for me. The thoughts give you distraction for a while, as long as a while could feasibly last in these circumstances…

Shu-unk.

What the fucking hell was that?

Shunk. Shunk. Shunk.

You blink awake and stagger up to your feet in a rushed scramble. In the distance, just barely audible, is a soft voice echoing off the walls of the empty corridor.

“1412?” You're tempted to press your ear to the door to hear it closer, but the myriad of dents and fist-sized creases left protruding from it don't exactly leave a lot of space for you to listen. “1412?” The sound that had startled you awake, you now realize, is the sound of doors quietly being opened and closed. You're tempted to disbelieve, but the low coolness of that voice desperately makes you want to believe it's Hyun-su. And as terrified as you are of guessing wrong and paying your life's price for it, your fingers shakily clasp the door handle and it turns with a click. The squeals of metal make way for harsh scraping as the ill-fitting door fights the pressure of your body weight as you put everything you have into forcing it open.

It passes the threshold and swings open. You stagger into the corridor and catch yourself on the door frame, your fingers scraping dented steel from the pounding it took at the hands of that monster.

It is. It's him. That soft jawline and those big, brown eyes, the mane of fluffy hair and his unkempt clothes splattered with blood. He stands there lean and awkward in the hallway, lanky and ruffled and looking like he's been through a good bit of hell. His mop handle's got an upgrade but you don't care, really. You just feel a well of happiness surge up inside you that you figured had completely disappeared by now.

Hyun-su hurries up to you. When he gets close, he falters, however. His expression dims as he suddenly seems unsure of himself, and fidgets with the newly-crafted spear that suddenly seems too heavy in his hands.

“Are you okay?” He pants. “The monster-”

“You led it away.”

“Yeah.” He nods. “But you're okay, right?”

“Mh.” Your ears burn a little. This is my saviour, huh? So soft-spoken and meek? “Didn't get me at all. Thank you.”

He nods back, his scruffy locks forming a curtail around his neck as he does so. An awkward silence blankets the empty space. It's broken, however, by a deep gurgling in the pit of your stomach.

“Are you hungry?”

You lay a hand over your stomach as if your touch is going to make it stop rumbling. It's pretty humbling, to say the least–you hadn't realized how weak you'd become on two days without food. Hyun-su doesn't wait for an answer; he reaches into his pocket and pulls out something crinkly and wrapped in foil. It's still warm when he places it in your palm, yet his fingertips carry a chill as they graze your skin in the process.

“You should eat. We need to get going.”

“Where?” Hyun-su points down the corridor, and despite his urging you slip the candy bar into your pocket while you peek out where he's indicating. The door is busted-up and boasts a reinforced exterior from the many bumps and scrapes of a wheelchair coming in and out. You know it well. “1408? Where Mr. Han lives?”

He nods. “There's kids there, and some other people. I, um…I was going to come earlier, but they-”

“I get it.” For the first time in a long time, you crack a smile. “Had to go play hero again, huh?” If he was willing to drive away a monster from a stranger's door by using himself as bait, you can only imagine what he must have gone through to save some poor kids in peril.

“N-No, I-”

“You're a good guy.” You pat him on the chest. “I don't know why a good guy like you came to live in a place like Green Home, but I'm glad you're here.” Hyun-su looks down on you with a raised brow, but his surprise melts slowly into gratitude as he adjusts to your playful jabs. There's not many other ways for you to cope in an absolutely bizarre situation as this.

“...I'm glad, too.”

“Yeah?”

Hyun-su tilts his head down. He's a little hesitant on meeting your eyes, even though you owe him so much. “I'm…glad you didn't jump.”

“Me too.” The sentiment slips out of you so easily. When did that happen? Wanting to live? “I'd be a pretty shitty damsel if I threw away my life after you saved it.”

In the wake of another, now less-awkward silence, you stroll ahead of him towards Mr. Han's apartment. You only glance over your shoulder to make sure he's following, and to quietly reassure yourself that he hasn't disappeared again. When you do, that's when he hustles along to catch up, the smallest of smiles peaking his lips.

“If..”

You turn to look at him beside you. You can't help but pay him your full attention when he speaks–he does it so little, and he's so quiet, you fear you might miss what he says.

“If you feel like you want to jump again..” He extends his hand out to you. Despite the callouses on his long, lithe fingers, his palm looks soft and even…inviting, in some strangely enticing way. “..You can hold my hand. I'll keep you from falling.”

“Oh.” Your feet halt in their tracks. The air feels a bit heavier than it did before–but only in the space that separates you from Hyun-su. His hand lingers there, and beneath the cuff of his sweater's sleeve you spot for the first time those scars. Cuts, slashes, deep and intentional down the length of his tanned skin. Intersecting lines that point towards a past of hurt and harm.

So you and I are the same. Have you now, finally, come to that thought that Hyun-su had when he saw you ready to jump out your window?

“...Yeah.”

You place your palm delicately over his. Your fingers slide together like ivy on a window. They clasp into each other, squeezing like the grip of a latch on a closed door. And you feel at peace for real this time, because from this moment on you won't ever get near a ledge again–not to take a step off, at least. But maybe to see another sunset if you manage to survive that long. A smile perks at your mouth at the thought. God, I hope so.

“Let's hang in there together. Promise.” You squeeze his hand, and he squeezes yours back. The two of you make your way towards the apartment. And when this door opens, it'll close behind you for good.