#look at shadows sheet omg

[loveharlow]

pls can we get fwb rafe i NEED

omg yes?? i feel like fwb!rafe would be such a douchebag, like he'd tell you everything you want to hear while he's inside of you but as soon as he's finished, he's like "alright, you gotta dip" and what's crazy is he makes it clear he doesn't want you but doesn't want anyone to have you

"Fuck, I'm about to-" Rafe groaned on top you, biceps on either side of your head as he rocked his hips violently into yours, the headboard banging viciously against the wall, leaving an even deeper dent than last time.

His head was thrown back, neck on display as your hands roamed his back, clawing at the skin like a feral cat. The feeling of your nails digging into his flesh had the man fucking you harder, his head dropping down as he looked into your eyes.

Sweat dripping from the ends of his hair and onto your forehead but you couldn't care less, revelling you ecstasy even more when his face began to twist in the best way possible. The man on top of you slammed himself further into you, hitting places that made your back arch as he let out a deep, raspy sigh, the feeling of him releasing inside of you making you shudder.

You expected him to keep going until you reached the same high but it was only seconds before his hips were slowing and he was pulling out, kneeling in between your legs as heavy breaths left his lips, a cocky smile on his face.

All you could do was pout, sitting up slightly on your elbows. "Are you fucking serious?"

"What?" He shrugged, climbing off of the bed. You pulled the bed sheet up against your chest and turned on your side to face him.

"You know the whole point of this is for both of us to come, right? And as far I'm concerned, there's still an ache between my legs."

"Who said that shit?" He chuckled, pulling his underwear and jeans back up his legs, fiddling with the belt around his waist. You simply scoffed and rolled your eyes, throwing the bed sheet off of you to get up and pick up your phone from the nightstand. "I'm just fuckin' with you, alright? I got you next time."

Now it was you who was chuckling, looking down at your phone as you spoke, still completely naked. "Next time." You mocked, turning the device off and looking around the room for your scattered garments. You didn't miss the shadow of Rafe's frame rounding the bed to stand near you. "Where'd you throw my bra?"

"It's hanging from the lamp." He motioned his head in the direction of the piece of clothing dangling from the light shade. "Why are you in such a hurry?"

"I have a date, not that it's any of your business..." You muttered absentmindedly, struggling to clasp the bra together.

Suddenly, a finger was going under the bra and in between your breasts as soon as you'd clasped it together, Rafe using the material to pull you in closer until your toes were touching and you looked up at the man in question, his blue eyes squinted as he glared down at you, almost analyzing you.

"Oh, you're deadass."

"...Why wouldn't I be?" You replied back. Rafe stared you down for a few moments before walking towards the nightstand, finger still hooked under your bra as he used the hold to walk you backwards until the back of your thighs hit the nightstand. "What're you doing?" You asked as the boy reached for your phone, unlocking it with ease. You never gave him your password. "Rafe-"

"Dylan says he can't wait to see you." He read the message, tone dripping with sarcasm. "I think we should call Dylan." He threatened, thumb moving across the screen as you reached for it, but he just held it out of your reach and all you could do was stand by, hearing the call ring faintly as the man held the device to his ear.

"What the hell is wrong with you-"

"Heyy, Dylan right?" Rafe drug out. "Listen, Y/n can't make it tonight. She's having a little trouble walking at the moment, you can blame me for that, I get a little rough as she likes to say." He told the boy on the other end, your jaw dropping as you slapped his chest and continued trying to pull his arm down to take the phone. "But hey, at least I took her off your hands for the night. It was nice talking to you buddy but I'm going to block your number right now, no hard feelings alright? You have a nice night, Dylan." Was the last thing he said before ending the call and presumably blocking the guy's number and handing you your phone back.

His finger unhooked itself from your bra as he walked away to grab his shirt and slide it on. You stood starstruck, phone in hand as you eyed him walking around. "You are actually the fucking worst. Do you know that?"

Rafe simply walked over to you with a hazy smile on his lips, planting his warm hands on your waist. He enveloped you in a heated kiss, tongue slipping past your lips and playing with your own before pulling back, looking you up and down. "Get dressed and sneak out the back, I gotta meet Top soon." He demanded, slapping your bare ass and stepping back from you. "And I'm still dripping down your leg."

©loveharlow.

[thehighladywrites]

- “if it is so wrong, why does it feel so good?”

pairing: stalker/perv!azriel x reader, nesta, elain and feyre mentioned

summary: stalking and perving is azriel’s favorite activities. What happens when you finally drop the oblivious mask and confront him

warnings: dark content, stalking, perving (on literally everyone), breaking and entering, stealing panties, az having a darker side, getting turned on by your fear, az eating you out, reader being bold and hot as fuck omg,

amara’s note: okay this is very short bc it’s my first time writing a dark fic. Also i hope you like it and pls read the warnings.

Azriel knows he is some sort of sick freak. He knows he should resist his sinful glances at Feyre when she's cozied up on Rhysand's lap. He flexes a little extra just to spark Nesta's desires, fully aware of her fantasies. And as for Elain, well, let's just say he's playing a forbidden game of spying while she bends over to plant her greens.

Azriel's is extremely aware he shouldn't be harboring forbidden desires or indulging in the secret pleasure of stalking someone as seemingly innocent as yourself.

Azriel, the ultimate mastermind, keeps everyone guessing. Who would suspect the quiet, brooding and publicly respected spymaster to be a closeted perv and sick stalker? It's his most guarded secret hidden beneath the intimidating exterior.

Little does Azriel know, you're fully aware of his perverse behavior—his wandering eyes and spying shadows. It surprises you that no one has figured him out yet; after all, it seems quite apparent, doesn't it?

You don’t miss his lurking shadows following you around for hours. A regular fae would’ve missed it but not you. You’ve grown accustomed to him and his ways. You know him better than anyone else and you definitely know of his stalker tendencies.

Azriel believes he's smooth, avoiding outright ogling. Instead, he strategically glances at you during training with Cassian and while sharpening his weapons, subtly appreciating the way your body moves.

Pervert azriel walks up to you, complimenting your form, claiming while it’s good there’s something you need to fix. You don’t mind if he needs to grab your waist while fixing your pose right? And of course you’ll excuse him if he accidentally brushes against your boobs and ass. I mean he just wants to help you perfect your form!

He watches you walking through Velaris from the shadows, always hiding one of his shadows with you. He tells himself that he does it for your safety. Who knows, you might be attacked and he needs to be ready.

He absolutely doesn’t want to hear how much of a hypocrite he is for also stalking you in the safety of your home aswell.

Azriel steals your panties, silently breaking into your room as he looks through your drawers, skimming through the collection of panties. He promises himself it’s the last time, though he’s made the same pledge seven times before.

Azriel's stalking tendencies lead him to roam through your belongings, touching everything to become familiar with your world. He goes to your vanity, picking up your perfumes, and indulges in the forbidden pleasure of smelling the one thing he desires most—you.

Lying in your bed, his head on your pillow, he starts shifting in the sheets, inhaling more of your scent. He revels in the trespass and wrongness of being in your bed, knowing that you might catch a hint of his own scent lingering there, a twisted thought crossing his mind that it could confuse, frighten, or even arouse you.

His cock swells at the thought of you scared, heart beating fast, trying to place who the scent belongs to.

He looks around and finds one of your shirts on the bed and picks it up to his nose.

Then he does the one thing he swore he would never stoop to. He pulls out his already hard cock and strokes it while inhaling your scent from the shirt.

—

He has timed you and learned your schedule hence why he now knows that you’ll be in the shower for the next twenty minutes, giving him the perfect opportunity for his perverse activities. He’ll pick up the laciest most intricate pair, keeping it in his room as some sort of trophy with the other stuff he has taken from you. No one can enter into his room anyways, it’s safe…

Pervert Azriel looks through the little crack in your door as you stand there posing infront of a mirror while wearing pretty much nothing. A lacy little lingerie set as you touch your body, hands traveling all over your tits, waist, ass then up through your hair as you spin around, admiring yourself.

You know Azriel is standing at your door, he isn’t really all that subtle with his hand down his pants as he jerks off at the sight of you.

It’s almost enough to make your eyes roll back into the back of your head, fucking gods, he’s pathetic.

You wanted to fuck him for the longest time. He could just ask you to fuck and you’d say yes yet here he is thinking he’s slick as he pervs on you. Even with all that in mind, there’s a sick, twisted adrenaline rush spreading through your body at the thought of the esteemed and highly respected spymaster doing something so dark and wrong like this.

“I know you're there, Az. Come out,” you say, a wicked smile forming on your face as you plot to utterly humiliate him.

His entire body freezes and Azriel cautiously emerges from the shadows, realizing he's been caught. You maintain that mischievous grin, ready to unleash your plan. The air thickens with anticipation as the confrontation unfolds.

“Az?”

He looks like he’s about to jump out of the nearest window as he looks at you through the mirror.

“Yes?”

“Why are you such a disgusting little pervert? Here I am trying on some clothes and you’re just perving on me. How do you think that makes me feel? I mean I could be super afraid and you wouldn’t have any remorse? Who does something like that?”

Azriel's face heats up at the mocking question, flushing as he tries to respond.

“Az, I asked you a question,” you assert, walking over to him. His embarrassment is palpable as he apologizes, rambling about not knowing what came over him, begging you not to tell anyone.

You already know the answer, and a knowing smile plays on your lips as he seeks forgiveness.

“You’ve done a very bad thing, Azriel. Bad people deserve to be punished. You of all people understand that, right?”

Pushing him back onto one of the sofas in your room, you creep closer, leaning over to whisper. Looking down at him, you place your hand on his cheek, letting your nails dig in a little.

“I think you deserved to be punished.”

Azriel's heart raced, fearing exposure for his hidden activities. Was this it? Would you punish him by revealing his actions to everyone?

Before he could plead for forgiveness, you stood up, walking back to your bed and beckoning him over with two fingers.

As he approached, ready to sit, you extended your leg, placing your foot on his stomach, halting him in his tracks..

“Not so fast,” you assert, a wicked smile playing on your lips. “The bed is reserved for me. You can kneel on the floor.”

Azriel complies, gracefully sinking to his knees. His gaze meets yours, his beautiful eyes revealing a mixture of submission and desire.

“You’re going to eat my pussy. If you manage to make me cum, I won’t tell anyone about your disgusting behavior, understand?”

He couldn't believe what was unfolding. Was he really about to taste you? About to experience the fantasy he'd daydreamed about every single day? He nods, but a disapproving tsk follows.

“I need more than a nod, Azriel. Do you understand?”

A quick, “Yes, I understand,” escapes his lips.

You can't help but smile at the swiftness of his compliance.

“That’s good. Now, I’ll be taking off my bra and panties and they’re very expensive and new so they better not go missing.”

Azriel affirms his understanding and then proceeds to drool over the way you slowly strip infront of him before you spread your legs and tell him to start.

He grabs your thighs and pulls you closer to the edge as he dips his head down to run his tounge up and down your slit, tasting you before playing with your clit.

You gasp in pleasure, letting out moans as your hands find their way to his hair, urging him to keep going.

Azriel’s hands dig into your thighs that are currently smushing his head. He decides to let you continue, telling himself that if he dies like this, he'd go down as the happiest person in history.

“T-that’s it, right there.”

A breathy moan escapes your lips as you feel two of his fingers enter you. Your hands grab his dark soft hair as he started pumping his fingers, relishing at the way your soaking cunt is squelching and squeezing him.

You whimper at the way his thick fingers strecth you out then curl against that secret spot, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. You start to slowly fuck yourself on them, eager for more of him.

“You taste even better than I imagined, fuck.”

His desperate voice only spurred you on.

It doesn’t take much longer for that feeling to build up in your stomach, the tight cord eventually snapping. You squeeze and throb around his fingers as you cum hard, letting out whines and mumbles.

Azriel helps you ride out your high, memorizing every facial expression in case this is the last time you ever let him this close again.

He pulls out his fingers and lick them clean then goes back and licks your pussy clean.

You let out a giggle at the sight before you, casting him a look of fake sympathy as you pull yourself together.

“Well, look at that. Seems like I’ll be keeping your secret after all. I mean, what a shame to loose such a good little pussy eater, right? I might just keep you around.”

You beckon him to rise, tossing your underwear onto the sofa before heading to the bathroom to clean up.

Glancing back at his flushed face and heavy breathing, you offer a secret smile.

“Who knows, next time I might even let you fuck me.”

Turning around, you leave him to his thoughts as the shower starts.

Azriel stands there for a moment, his desire evident. Unable to resist, he takes your panties and bra, always craving something of yours.

He promises to himself that he won't do it for an eighth time before hurrying back to his room, to finally help himself

🏷️ taglist: @stasiereads @clairebear08 @daycourtofficial @historiaxvanserra @rowaelinsdaughter @acourtofladydeath @acourtofwhatthefuck @redbleedingrose @danikamariewrites @readychilledwine @nocasdatsgay

[braxlrose]

Can you please write 2007 Bill Kaulitz smut

dacraphylia but with overstimulation. Bill just eating her out till she is crying. Reader trying to pull him away by his hair but it only makes him go harder. Full blown pussy drunk Bill

(all consensual ofc)

-✨

i love you ✨️ anon. lets get married bc i have no imagination and you are perfect. I love you more than life. you are now my wife/husband bc omg im gonna cum this request is so hot.

warnings: dacryphilia, dom/sub shit?? bill being the pussy drunk whore he is, hair pulling, oral (f receiving), swearing. lemme know if i missed some shit.

----------------------------------------------------------

"B-bill...pl-please..I can't take it anymore.." You whimpered out, fingers tugging on the bed sheets as Bill sucked harshly on your clit, rubbing the inside of you with his fingers.

"Oh come on baby..just a little more..one more I promise.." Bill said one more almost a half an hour ago. Your face was covered in dry tears and saliva that came drooling out of your mouth. You gave up on trying to hide your moans a while ago. You could feel your stomach tightening as more tears poured out of your eyes. Bill continued to eat you out until...a white flash came over you, your back arched and your body went completely numb.

"Ohhh...there you go baby..always being so fucking good for me. my pretty, pretty girl.." He sighed happily and licked up all your cum. Your head felt all fuzzy and your vision was blurry. You could only make out a dark shadow above you. Bill licked the pretty little tears on your face and wiped some sweat off your forehead. You began to close your eyes before Bill lifted your chin up to look at him.

"Baby..we aren't done yet.."

_______________________________________________

"Oh god Bill! Please, 's too much! too much, too much, too much." Your voice got higher and higher, practically squeaking out your words while bill was pounding his dick into your soft little pussy. His eyeliner was smeared and you could barely keep your eyes open to look at his pretty face.

"Mm mm baby, I know you can take it. You always can. Your little pussy was made for my dick and I know how much you love this." You shook your head back and forth, raising your hands up and pulling at his long dark hair, trying to push him back. "Fuck," He threw his head back and ran his hand through your hair, "I love it when you do that." He pounded into you harder and harder until you couldn't remember anything but his name.

But this is bill and he loves you when your all dumb and sweet for him. Once his head is "sober" again, he'll give you massages and put you in a nice bubble bath because you're his little princess. and he loves his little princess.

[shadowdaddies]

Hi! I’ve been loving all your request drabbles recently and wanted to send you an idea I’ve been thinking about - rubbing oil or lotion on Az’s tattoos 🤤 the way it would make them look so shiny and beautiful. He would always want you to do it for him after a hard mission or him being away for a few days

thank you so much! I love this request omg I had to reel it in bc it made me a little feral

Massage

Azriel x Reader

Warnings: very suggestive

A bright smile crossed your features as you felt a familiar tug on the mating bond - the signal that Azriel was on his way home. He’d been on mission for weeks now, and you were eager to show your mate exactly how much you had missed him.

Making your way upstairs to your bathroom, you prepared the space for him. Dim faelight illuminated the room, the bathtub filled with calming oils and salts for his aching muscles. Your ears perked at the sound of Azriel’s boots making their way up the stairs just as you were finishing setting up for him. 

Shadows greeted you first - the cool smoky tendrils weaving through your hair as you giggled at the feeling, spinning around to see your mate striding through the doorway, a soft smirk gracing his face as he drank in the sight of you. Running the few steps that separated you from Azriel, you jumped into his arms, savoring the feeling of his warmth as he caught you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him down by his hair as you kissed him deeply, earning a groan of appreciation.

Drawing back to admire his features, you gave Azriel another quick kiss before releasing him from your hold and dropping to the ground. Tugging on the collar of his leathers, you whispered with a smirk, “I have a bath ready for you.” Azriel glanced to the warm water that steamed across the room, his hands grazing up your sides. “Mm thank you. Will you be joining me?” 

You shook your head with a soft laugh, swiping a finger along his shoulder and holding it up to show him the dirt. “Maybe you focus on getting clean, and then I’ll take good care of you.” A low growl arose from Azriel’s throat as he licked his lower lip. “A massage?” You giggled and nodded, gesturing behind him to where you had already brought out the oils. “I guess I better hurry and get clean then,” he murmured, eyes never leaving yours as he made quick work of removing his leathers. 

You watched in appreciation as he made his way to the tub, sighing as he sank into the water. “I’ll go make us some dinner,” you promised, turning to slip out the door. A shadow wrapped around your wrist, twisting you to face Azriel who watched you with rapt attention. A coy smile played at his lips, “dinner for after the massage?” You rolled your eyes, laughing with another nod. “Yes, Az. Massage first, don’t worry.”

You came back up to the bedroom with a dinner tray, setting it on the table in the sitting area. Azriel padded out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel wrapped lowly around his hips, smirking as he caught you biting your lip before you realized what you were doing. With a deep exhale, you shook off your desire for your mate and took the bottle of oil from his hands, gesturing for him to lay down on the bed.

Azriel smirked over his shoulder at you as he removed the towel from his hips, laying it down atop mattress before settling down over it. “Az-“ you broke off, laughing as he arched an eyebrow in challenge. “You don’t want oil to get all over the sheets, do you?” With a sigh of mock defeat, you agreed, “no, I suppose not.” 

Azriel gave you a triumphant grin. “See, I’m only being logical.” Humming as you crawled up on the bed, straddling his back, you retorted, “yes, you do seem to always think with your head. Now relax.” Uncorking the bottle, you lathered the oil on your hands, rubbing them together to warm it up.

Avoiding his wings, you worked out the tension of Azriel’s back and shoulders first, sliding down his body as you worked your way lower. “You know, this would be easier for you if you were naked as well, sweetheart,” Azriel mumbled against the mattress. You countered, “I don’t know that we would make it through the entire massage if I were, Az. Now turn over so I can do your front.”

He obeyed, rotating so that he was laying on his back. You lathered more oil in your hands before bringing them down to his chest, admiring the swirls of his tattoos as you ran your hands over his torso. Working his shoulders, down his arms, to massage the muscles of his scarred hands, you marveled in his beauty. 

Threading your fingers in his hair, you lightly massaged his scalp as you leaned forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Alright, there’s your massage. How about dinner?” Azriel pulled back, giving you a pitiful look. “Angel, my wings are tired and sore. Would you please touch those as well?”

You gave Azriel a knowing look, aware of exactly where this was heading. “Fine,” you sighed, kissing him again, dragging his lower lip between your teeth as you pulled away. The moment you pressed your fingertips to the vein of his wing, what little control remained between the two of you was lost.

Dinner had to be reheated.

[tojisun]

OMG ive got smth else for u

Give by sleep token is sooo biker!simon coded ahhh😩😭😭

I AM THE SHADOW, YOU ARE A PASSENGER

IF YOU WANT TO GIVE, THEN GIVE ME ALL THAT YOU CAN GIVE

I WANT TO TASTE YOU BETTER

anon u are too sick for this one now im genuinely spiralling??? how do i move on!! HOW DO I LISTEN TO SLEEP TOKEN WITHOUT ENVISIONING BIKER!SIMON???

this fits sooo well with that one consistent brainworm that wont let me go since it manifested – it’s from when i was answering honey’s ask!!

how a subset of biker!simon is him and you being friends for a while but you’re with a partner who doesn’t appreciate you and love you the way you should be, and simon ofc doesnt wanna just be like “i can treat you better sweet girl” BUT ONE DAY HE WHISKS YOU AWAY WHEN YOUR PARTNER DID SMTHN THAT ENDED UP WITH SIMON HAVING SPLIT KNUCKLES, HIS HELMET STRAPPED ON YOUR HEAD, AND HIM AND YOU ON HIS BIKE AS HE DRIVES YOU AWAY AHHHH

on my knees right now???

the way you’re crying in his arms, pressing your face on his back and it’s a little awkward because of the helmet and simon’s feeling the ridges of the visor dig into his back, but god simon’s trying his best not to explode. trying his best not to just swerve into the nearest empty lot because he wants you as far away from your shit of a boyfriend.

and when he finds an empty park, away from the suburbs and from the bastard who made you cry, simon pulls over and tugs at your helmet to take it off before scooping you in his arms and tucking your face on the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. he holds you close and he holds you tight, letting his silence wrap around you. he kisses the top of your head, breathing you in, feeling his own blood calm down because you’re in his arms now. safe, loved, cherished.

the way when you ask him why’s he being too kind, too considerate, simon bites the words that threaten to spill because you deserve more than a rushed confession. so he just presses a kiss on your forehead and tells you he’ll always be here for you. always be here to help you throughout.

you end it off with your boyfriend that same night, your body shuddering with sobs but god you feel better. feel lighter.

and it’s gradual – the way you fall in love with simon. the way your eyes see him as more than your best friend, more than your platonic soulmate. and you’re scared to fuck things up, but god the way simon looks at you, all adoring and reverent, makes you weak.

the words spill from your lips on a thursday morning when you dropped by simon’s place only to see him tinkering on his bike in the garage.

you’re about to crouch down and settle on the floor the way you had always done before but pause when simon tells you so.

“i got y’somethin’,” he says, blushing just a bit. you watch as he walks towards the cleared-out corner of his garage, just noticing the covered lump there.

he turns to you with a smile and tugs at the sheet, revealing a pretty, pink, velvet loveseat.

“so you don’t have to sit on the floor w’me,” he says after a while, taking your silence for confusion.

“it’s… mine?”

simon laughs, something boyish. “yeah. all y’rs, doll. i’m used to the hard surface but i see you rubbin’ at your ass when i take too long so i got you this to help out.”

what the fuck?

he blinks. the smile slipping from his lips. “i mean, you don’t have to use it.”

fuck. you said that out loud? stupid-

“no, si, oh my god! it’s perfect!” you scramble to tell him, practically running towards where he’s standing. “i’m just- i don’t know- no one has ever-”

to your horror, tears began pooling in the corners of your eyes. simon stares at you in surprise, his face falling as worry lines his beautiful features. you try to assure him that you’re doing okay, but a pathetic wet sob lurches out of your throat instead.

“fuck,” you say, aggressively wiping at your weeping eyes. “i’m so sorry for this, si. i just- i fucking love you so much and i don’t know how to-”

you startle when big hands pull your fists away from your eyes. you see simon staring at you in shock.

“you love me?” he asks, almost breathless like he is afraid of being wrong. afraid that if he spoke any louder, it will lead to you rejecting him.

but how could you ever?

“i do,” you tell him. “i love you so much, si. i think i always have-”

he cuts you off again, but this time with his lips. his big and callused hands are gentle as they cup your cheeks, pulling you closer to him like he still can’t believe that you love him back.

“i love you too, sweetheart,” simon murmurs on your lips when he finally pulls back, your breaths passing through each other in gasps. “i fuckin’ love you.”

so clearly i went fucking bonkers-

SORRY IT GOT TOO LONG MY GOD

[after-witch]

Horrorfest: He Came Home [Yandere Michael Myers x Reader]

Title: He Came Home [Yandere Michael Myers x Reader]

Synopsis: You're being stalked by the Boogeyman but no one believes you.

For Horrorfest request:

I'm so happy you write for Halloween omg 👀 can I request a stalker ish michael Myers, more yendere than I'm going to murder you brutally right away lol

Word Count: 1647

Notes: Yandere, stalking, death/killing (not reader); some graphic violence descriptions.

It’s someone playing a prank. People always do it around Halloween.

You shouldn’t make up stories using Michael Myers. It’s not funny. He really killed people, you know.

If you don’t have concrete evidence, we can’t do anything for you. It’s probably just some teen messing with you.. Keep your doors locked and call us if anything happens.

You’re being stalked by the Boogeyman and not a single person in your life, your whole damn town, believes you. And maybe there’s a reason for it, God knows that it wasn’t uncommon for people to pull pranks like this--to turn tragedy into mockery and entertainment.

Damn kids, and all that.

But it’s different now because it’s real and it’s happening to you. And you are not crazy or lying and this is not a prank. You’ve seen him more than once, a shadow at first, something you brushed off.

The next time, he was standing down the street, half hidden by a tree. But you saw him. And he saw you. And every muscle in your body had tensed before you whirled around and ran. It was a joke, a teenager with a morbid sense of humor, maybe one of your friends praying on your scaredy-cat tendencies. 

But then you saw him from your bedroom window, standing down below in the grass. 

And your kitchen window, behind the fluttering sheets you’d tacked up earlier in the day.

And you know, you just know, that one day he will be inside your house.

Coming for you.

--

No one believes you. But that doesn’t stop your friends from laughingly agreeing to have a sleepover to ease your worries, something none of you have done since you were teenagers. Only this time instead of sneaking booze from mom’s locked cabinet using the pilfered key and drinking until you saw stars, you were going to be stone-cold sober and sleeping with a knife.

If (when?) he came for you, you’d be ready. 

Glenn disappears first, after announcing that he’s heading out to the garage to grab a beer. Like he’s at some teenage kegger.

Your friends laugh when he doesn’t return--maybe he’s chugging them all and not saving any for the rest of us--but you start to tear up and Tina sighs and says she’ll go out to get them.

But Tina doesn’t come back, either.

The house is silent and it’s just you and Nancy, and Nancy is the sensible one. She won’t make jokes about what you say you’re experiencing, even if she’s keen to downplay it as a prank. She doesn’t dismiss Glenn and Tina not coming back as something silly. Instead, she locks the door to the garage and flicks off all the lights and grabs a baseball bat.

Don’t, you should say, don’t go looking for them. But you’re too afraid to look yourself and Nancy, Nancy is strong isn’t she? Strong and brave. She won’t do anything stupid. So she heads to the front door and tells you to lock it as soon as she leaves, then wait by the phone and call the cops if she isn’t back in a few minutes.

And you do, with fingers that fumble and sweat. The lock clicks hard and you run to the phone, hand trembling on the receiver so hard that you keep lifting it off and hearing little bursts of dial tone. 

You glance down at your watch, squinting in the dimness to see the time. It’s been a minute, maybe two. How long should you wait? Maybe Nancy was chewing them out, scolding them for scaring you. Yeah. She would do that. Then she’d make them come in and apologize, like she’d had to do before when they pushed your buttons too hard. 

This fantasy carries you through to the next minute, and the next, until the garage door bursts open, and you can hear the wood splintering and cracking, swiping away anything but an awful reality that sends your heart rate sky-high.

You should run, really, but it feels like your legs are stuck to the floor. Rooted like a tree, even though your hands are now shaking wildly. You dimly hear the dial tone and remember what you’re supposed to do, and your finger shoves itself into the rotary dial, twisting and twisting the local sheriff’s office--

Until the phone is ripped out of the wall like a piece of paper, and you turn around to see the real-life boogeyman standing in front of you. No longer far away and through glass, but flesh and blood, close enough to see, close enough to smell. 

Close enough that you can see the glint of a knife in his hand.

You can even see his eyes through the mask and meet his gaze, your own eyes wide with pinprick pupils, and his merely staring at you through the holes in this mask. You hear, softly enough, the sound of breathing; his or yours? 

A gasp is caught in your throat when he grabs your shirt and shoves you away from the ruined phone, hard enough to knock you off your feet. You land on the floor, but your legs no longer feel rooted, and you scramble to your feet and do the only thing you can do: run.

The ruined garage door is the path of least resistance, and you run through the doorway and grope for the railing but miss it. 

You trip down the stairs, landing on the concrete hard enough to make your palms sting and even bleed, but--no, that’s not your blood. That’s not your blood at all. The blood on your palm is thick and wet and when you look up, you see Nancy’s corpse sprawled out on the ground, face down, stab wounds oozing from her back. Tina and Glenn are behind her, both bleeding heavily from the chest. Tina’s red chest heaves and maybe her eyes look at you, but you can’t tell if she actually sees you.

“Oh,” you say, voice suddenly unrecognizable to your own ears. “Oh.”

And there’s a shadow above you, the shadow of shadows, and you don’t even have time to turn around as his hand grips the back of your shirt and pulls you backward. 

Words flash through you--I’m going to die--before there’s a dull awful pain at the back of your head (why the knife blunt?) and darkness overtakes everything in the world.

--

You don’t expect to wake up, but you do. 

And when you do, you’re sitting in an unfamiliar space full of dust and dirt. A simple room with nothing in it but a ragged blanket and some stray, dusty furniture--an old wooden chair, a wooden chest. The windows are boarded up, but you can tell it’s night-time.

A house that no one has been in for years, maybe. A house that has fallen into disrepair and ruin. There weren’t any houses like this in town proper, you knew, so you must be in the woods outside of town, where there were occasionally remnants of abandoned places. 

Why were you in the woods? Why were you in a house?

The thoughts are clear and simple, piercing through a swimming ache in the back of your head. You focus on these thoughts to keep you from passing out again. In the woods, in a house. In the woods, in a house. In the woods, in a house.

But why?

And then you remember. Michael Myers. Your friends. The blood. The pain.

As if on cue, there’s another sound in the house. A sound that is distinctly familiar, heavy footsteps and yes, it must have been his before--the sound of breathing. Soft and subtle, like a stray sound muffled through the wall. 

You move to stand on weakened legs, but keep yourself pressed back against the wall as the figure of Michael Myers walks and stands in the doorway.

It’s as if the air itself becomes thick and heavy with his presence, and you almost want to sit down again. But you force yourself to stay standing. At least if you’re standing, you have a chance to run, if you can.

But he doesn’t give you one, not at this moment, anyway. Instead he stays in the doorway and simply stares at you.

Long enough for your tongue to loosen, words coming out dry through your chapped lips. How long were you out, anyway?

“Why… why did you bring me here?”

No answer.

“Where are we?”

No answer.

Finally, you swallow spit, and ask a question that you don’t really want to be answered. 

“Are you going to kill me?”

You swear you hear him inhale through his nose, a short, thin sort of breath. 

He takes a step into the room. There’s nowhere for you to go, and you feel helpless sobs start to bubble up in your throat. You look down and there’s no knife--that you can see--but that doesn’t stop the visuals of your murdered friends and vague impressions of everyone you know who has been killed by him from flashing through your head.

He stops right in front of you. You half expect him to grab your neck and twist. Or grab your throat and squeeze.

But all he does is tilt his head slightly, looking at you through the holes in his mask. You wish you could erase the visual memory of his eyes, wish that you’d never seen them at all; the faraway impression that he had two big black holes was more merciful than this. 

And then his hand reaches out and touches your face, callused fingertips brushing against your cheek. 

His fingers leave behind traces of grime and your friends' dried blood. 

[slptkns]

Can I have Poly sleep token x reader smut that has no one allowed to cum inside the reader but vessel and he gets so possessive over it once he cums he will already you somehow even wider to make sure it’s there and the others will look with him too jealous that they aren’t allowed to experience that and it just has vessel smirking his ass off (idk what came over me but yeah hope you enjoy lmao!)

OMG I TRIED TO ANSWER THIS YESTERDAY AND THE WHOLE ANSWER WAS FUCKING SENT TO THE SHADOW REALM SO I HAD TO REWRITE IT! I hope this answer is good though! I had so much fun writing this one!

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI! Nasty raunchy, porn with literally zero plot, unprotected sex

A/N: UNDER THE CUT BECAUSE IT'S INSTANTLY NASTY LMAO. I tried to make this as gender neutral as possible! Like it's not specific 'hole' wise LOL.

Your eyes cut to Vessel and you paused. Vessel would always ask, and your answer was always the same. But, you felt comfort in knowing he always asked.

You were sprawled out on the bed, sticky from sweat and cum. Your breathing was ragged and your chest heaved. With eyes stuck on the slow moving ceiling fan you tried to calm your breathing.

“Think you’re up for another round?”

“Yes…” You nodded.

II almost went feral. His eyes widened and stepped forward, completely ignoring Vessel, who was sitting right beside you.

The four of them had a routine. After the foreplay, III and/or IV would get you first. They were softer, a little more gentle with you. While they all made sure you were comfortable in everything they did, III was the most careful with that. He was goofy and loved loving you. IV was soft in a more chilled out sort of way. He was taking his time with you and was slightly more serious than III.

II, on the other hand… He got excited very easily. II always got you second to last. The roughness was something you would look forward to. You liked the soft and sweet and slowness of III and IV, but II always hit different. He was definitely the most likely to throw you around and rail you until you were seeing stars. The balance was something you quite enjoyed.

Your eyes cut from Vessel and towards II. Vessel, smirking to himself, grabbed your hand for a moment, rubbing circles on the back of it with his thumb. And then II reached you and you were pulled up from the bed and flipped onto your stomach.

Vessel released your hand, and instead opted for rubbing your back. He was not going to leave your side. Not because he didn’t trust the others, he just had plans of his own.

Cheek against the mattress and ass in the air, you waited for II’s next move. II angled himself and easily pushed into you. A soft mewl escaped your lips and your fingers intertwined with the covers.

“Look at you…” Vessel purred in your ear, “Taking him so well.”

You bit your lip and let out another cry of pleasure. Vessel couldn’t help but give you a toothy smile, so proud of how well you were doing with all of them. Your eyes shut tight and Vessel’s fingers ghosted over your knuckles, that were absolutely turning colors from the grip on those sheets.

II kept a steady, rapid pace. One that wasn’t too fast, but definitely quicker than anyone else’s. The sound of skin hitting skin echoed through your room. All eyes were on you, everyone watched as II made you come undone for, what felt like, the umpteenth time that night.

It didn’t take much to really lose it. A soft mewl turned into you crying out for II as your entire body tensed and shook. You were so sensitive already, it did not take much to cum. Tears pricked your eyes and your breathing picked up again.

“Oh, my love~” Vessel sat up as he spoke, “You look so beautiful taking his cock. But you’ll look even better taking mine.”

II let out a growl, and his pace picked up, sloppy and fast. Vessel grabbed II’s forearm and gave him a look. It was enough to slow II down. He pulled out of you and pumped himself for a second, before releasing onto your back. A quiet moan came from II and you couldn’t help but smile a little bit.

The hold you had on them was something that could not be fucked with, ad you knew it..

And then, you remembered, it was finally Vessel’s turn. When they were all with you, Vessel always, always got you last.

“Are you ready, love?”

You only nodded at him. Vessel was slow to flip you back over on your back. You would definitely have a mess to clean up tomorrow… But you would worry about that tomorrow.

Vessel angled your hips upwards, and let you lie there on your back. You closed your eyes and steadied your breathing. When you reopened your eyes, II, III, and IV were standing closer, watching you and Vessel with intense eyes.

Vessel slowly pushed inside of you and when he pulled back out, your hips instinctively chased his. He smirked down at you and kept going.

Vessel was always a nice medium between II, II, and IV. They all loved and fucked you differently, and you loved them for that. Vessel was in control, even if you or the others felt they were, it seemed to be him every time. He was easily able to flip any situation, taking back any control he may have previously given to someone else.

“Look at me, love,” Vessel’s voice was low and gruff, “I want you to watch me.”

“Can’t even see your eyes-” You quipped back at him.

Vessel responded with a thrust and you moaned out, your eyes already having trouble staying on him. But, you obeyed as best you could.

Once again, there was just the sound of skin on skin. Your skin on fire from the stares of your boyfriends. Vessel leaned over you and began to groan. His noises were soft, quiet, and low, but fuck were they hot.

When he let out a soft whimper you could feel another orgasm coming. You cried out for Vessel, and your toes curled. One of his hands grabbed your thigh and he threw your leg over his waist. He kept going and you bucked your hips. Your back arched and you threw your head back.

Your thighs muscles clenched and you were wrapped around Vessel, keeping him deep inside of you. He moaned out words you couldn’t comprehend from seeing stars, and you felt him cum inside of you.

He fucked his cum into you and he smiled against your collarbone. When he finally moved, you were left on the bed and he crouched in front of you. You knew what was coming, but every time your body responded the same way.

Chills ran up your spine, hair standing on end, as Vessel’s hand landed on your thigh and pulled your legs apart. His cum was slightly running down your thigh and you peeked up at him. He was smirking at II, III, and IV.

He was saying something to them, but not aloud. They would keep some words between just the four of them, and by how Vessel was smiling something was being said. II, III,and IV looked at you and back at Vessel, their eyes dark and full of what you could only assume was jealousy. Jealousy from Vessel being the only one allowed to cum inside of you.

They never argued about it, not out loud at least. You were sure II, III, and IV would say something if it was that big of a deal. But at the moment? It caused jealousy and something to stir inside of them.

Vessel looked at you with a cheshire smile and you sat up, resting on your forearms, completely aware they were still staring at your lower half. You cocked a brow at him.

“They said you look so good with my cum dripping out of you.”

“They did not say that!” You fell back on the bed and laughed. “They did not fucking say that!”

Vessel pouted at you, “They may have said other things, but they did say that.”

“Okay. I’m too tired to argue. Would someone like to help me clean up?”

[ourautumn86]

stray. pt. 5

joel miller x fem! reader

gif credits to @pedrorascal <3

< previous chapter next chapter >

summary; after saving Joel and Ellie from the brink of death, you get caught with having to live with two more strays.., and you don't do strays.

REMINDER: english is not my mother language so i apologize if there are some mistakes <3 !¡either ways, i hope y'all like it. <3

REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!<3

warnings; eventual +18 content! MINORS DONT INTERACT IN THE CHAPTERS WHERE IT IS IMPLIED IN THE WARNINGS and smut, mentions of death, possible deaths, blood, fighting, angst, fluff..

warnings for chapter 5; angst, loss, ellie and reader getting closer <3 (man i love them), guns, daggers, blood, wounds, weapons, tension, cursing, fear, ptsd, joel and reader get closer…

Please, under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own.

a/n; omg in so excited, the tension is growingggg

You had been awake for hours, unable to move from this bed that surrounded you like a big tight hug. You knew you shouldn’t let it, should get up and start moving, start one more day…

And you too knew that Ellie was on the other side of the door, waiting. You had heard her pacing around, getting closer, almost knocking but always sighing and stepping back. Now she was sitting against it, you could see the shadow, hear her head moving from time to time and her soft breathing.

You got up, a groan falling from your lips when your side throbbed and pinched. Fucking bitch knew how to kick…

You sighed when you opened the door and Ellie, who was fully leaning on it, fell backwards into the room. She looked at you from below, eyes shot open and you gave her an unamused stare before inhaling deep and stepping outside, dodging her. She sat up as you entered your room, exiting it shortly after taking a new change of clothes, and stood up as you closed the bathroom’s door behind your back. She stood there silently, hearing as you turned the shower on and bathed.

The mirror reflected your messy state, your bruised cheek and sticky skin bathed in blood. You didn’t waste time to scrub it off, thanking the water pouring on your body.

You didn’t take long, being efficient in putting on your clean clothes —along with the dirty ones to wash up— and leaving the bathroom.

She was in the same spot you had left her. And you went back into the room dodging her…, again.

You could feel her need to be near, to talk to you, to do anything that could help. You could almost touch her worry as you started to rummage the bloody bedsheets and making them onto a ball to go and put them to wash along with your clothes.

“Ellie?” you called for her, stopping the ruffling of sheets, and she perked up.

“…Yeah?” she asked, her voice careful.

“Are you gonna keep boring holes on the back of my head or are you gonna come in?” you said, and she stepped inside as quickly as she could, almost stumbling. Her eyes met yours, and she swallowed. She didn’t move.

It had surprised her, you letting her in. She was ready to wait ‘till you would come out. She was not ready for this. Hell, it had surprised even you.

She took in the surroundings, took in the art, the photos, the books…

“Are you… Are you okay?” her eyes were away from you, on the floor. You knew she was nervous by the way one of her hands was scratching her neck.

“Oh yeah, brat. Never been better.” you sarcastically said and she stood there, silently, her eyes everywhere. You sighed, taking a seat on the naked duvet. “She was really cool.” you said, and she looked at you. “Kind of annoying, like you, but cool.” she huffed at your semi-compliment. At least you didn’t hate her… “It’s been a year… And everything looks the same.” you sighed, your eyes dreamy on her artworks.

“She was great.” she said, pointing at her sketches.

“She truly was. He wanted to be a tattoo artist. Got a gun and everything.” you said. “Carved one on my back for her first time.” you chuckled, and she smiled.

“Can I… See it?” she inquired, and that caught you by surprise.

“You want to see it?” you frowned.

“I’ve just never seen a tattoo before. Only on pictures.” she said and you nodded, muttering a ‘sure’ that made her get excited.

You turned her back to her and slowly shifted up your white sleeveless top, revealing at the middle of your back a big black moth.

She took it in, eyes open and mouth ajar. She stepped closer, and one of his hands rose with the need to touch it, but she retracted it. It was beautiful. “How… Does it feel like? To get a tattoo I mean.” she says, and you turned back to her, letting your top hide your tattoo once again.

“It hurts. But it feels awesome when its finally done.”

“I want one.” she said, and you scoffed.

“You’re too young for that kind of stuff, kid.” Kid. Well, at least it was better than ‘brat’.

“I’m not. When did you get yours?”

“When I was sixteen.” you answered.

“I’m sixteen!” she said and you laughed.

“Bullshit!”

“Okay, fourteen. But does it even matter? It’s practically the same!” she said and you shook your head.

“It’s not.” she frowned and practically pouted. You rolled your eyes. “Look. Once you turn sixteen we’ll get you one, alright? Hell, I’ll even pay for it.” you offered and she lighted up like a firework.

“Really?”

“Sure.” you said, and she smiled so bright that you almost followed her.

You went back to your shuffling, stripping the pillows off their covers.

“Hey, y/n…?” she asked and you hummed. “I’m sorry. About Laura.” she said, and you looked at her, after a few seconds nodding slowly.

You two fell back onto that silence that seemed to follow you everywhere. Only this time, you decided to break it.

“Hey, brat?” you called for her and her eyebrows rose, paying attention. “I saw that you finished those comics of yours.” you said, giving her your back to take a hold on something in between your hands. You smiled softly as one of your palms slowly dragged against the pages, over the drawings and inked letters. “You should give this one a try. It’s a really good one.” you said, closing the book that had been open for a year to hand it to her. She took it with such a great care… As if it was made of the most rich porcelain and could break with just a mere whisper.

‘Alice in Wonderland’ she red on the cover.

“What is it about?” she asked, and you smiled.

“You’ll have to read it to find out.”

-

Ellie was really enjoying the book, you could see it. She had not put it down the whole day except for eating and a kick trip to the bathroom.

Joel opens the door to your house, you keys having been copied for him since he had started helping Larry on the farm.

“What are you reading, kid?” Joel asks, a box full of food in between his arms. Probably from Larry’s. He always insisted on sending you more and more…

“Alice in wonderland.” she answered, monotone, too focused on the book to even look at him.

“Don’t try and make her talk, Joel, I’ve had a pretty good and silent day with her glued to that thing.” you warned him from the balcony, your naked feet against the ice cold flooring and your eyes still looking at the sunset.

His eyes found you, and he stared at you. At you and your gray baggy sweats, at you and your white sleeveless tank top, the cigarette in between your lips…

He sighed and walked towards you, opening the sliding door to take a seat next to you, closing it back up so the smoke wouldn’t get inside.

You looked alright. That was good.

“Pretty face you’ve got, huh?” you said, and she glared at your before scoffing, shaking his head.

“Just as sweet as always, aren’t you?” he rolled his eyes and took a cigarette out of his pocket. “Thanks.” that’s what he said when you offered him light to burn it. “Larry asked about you, he’s worried.” you sighed.

You didn’t answer, you were fine, okay. You had been scared shitless yesterday, and still felt a little shaken up, but breathing in Laura last night had really helped you get up that morning, try and heal a little bit more through the day.

Joel’s leg was shaking, a nervous and anxious tick that always seemed to came back after tense days. He wanted to make sure that you were okay, wanted you to tell him that you were okay. After yesterday events… He needed you to look at him.

You spent hours like this, watching the sun disappear and the night fall, in silence, him being focused on you and you being focused on him. The present. Something you never focused on lately.

He had gone inside after having caught Ellie completely passed out on the sofa, book still in hand. He tried to take it away from her as he softly woke her up to take her to bed, but she grumbled something that you couldn’t hear and hugged it closer to her chest. Oh no, there was no way she was letting go of it now. She was gonna sleep with that thing.

“What the hell did you do to her? She didn’t even let me put it on the night table.” he said as he came back onto the balcony, first-aid kit in hand to start cleaning up the wounds on his body.

You looked at him once he was back on his chair, new cigarette lit in between your lips. You took a long drag and exhaled. “It was Laura’s.” you said and his eyes widened just the slightest.

“y/n, you didn’t have to…”

“It’s okay.” you cut him off. “I wanted to. And she would have too. She would have loved for someone else to enjoy her books. She loved them.” you said, and he could swear his breath hitched when an almost imperceptible smile crept on your soft pink lips.

He nodded, silently, and unbuttoned the sleeves of his flannel, letting see the new cuts and bruises from yesterday’s fight. You looked away when you’d caught yourself staring to the muscles clenching under his tanned skin, his biceps pressing against the shirt.

You cleared your throat and took another drag of your cigarette, filling your lungs with an oxygen that seemed to not exist.

Joel cleaned his wounds silently, rubbing alcohol on them like he had for the last decades. New scars would decorate his body, but that was okay. ‘Cause that meant that he had survived, he was still alive.

Soon enough he was done with her arms and had to move up to his face. You watched him struggle to find the right spot, struggle to clean the cut on his forehead properly.

You softly took the cotton from his hand, and he looked at you as you moved your chair closer to him. So close he could smell your shampoo, your deodorant and your perfume. It was intoxicating, but not as much as your presence, as your closeness.

He hissed when you pressed it against the cut, and even if his hands twitched with the need to stop you, he didn’t. You were focused on cleaning it up, on making sure it didn’t get infected, and he was focused on looking at you. At your pretty eyes and soft skin, your long curled lashes and your teeth biting down on your bottom lip in concentration. His heart was beating fast, hard against his ribs. He wanted you to be closer, to held you like he had yesterday, to help you heal the wounds that weren’t on the surface, but inside of you, throbbing with every one of your breaths.

You put ointment on it before moving to the cut on his bottom lip. That was the one that hurt the most. You noticed when he softly gripped your wrist.

He never pushed you away, only closer.

You looked at his lips, at how soft and plump they seemed. You looked away for just a mere second to leave the cotton aside and take in between your hands the ointment once again. He let go of your wrist, but your skin was still crawling on goosebumps, and you could still feel the warmth of his touch, remember the warmth of his hug. You wanted more. You’d been freezing for a year.

Your index finger met his bottom lip once again, spreading the ointment softly onto the cut. Tomorrow it would be almost closed and wouldn’t hurt anymore. He took a deep breath at the feeling of your touch, of your soft yet cold fingers.

You had already finished covering it completely, helping him. But you couldn’t pull away. Your finger softly outlining the plush of his lips. His eyes met your own when your tongue unconsciously dampened them. Your heart was beating hard, your skin breaking like ice under the sun. What is it that you wanted?

Your hand met his jaw as you thumb now pressed against the cut, smearing the ointment a little bit more even if it wasn’t necessary. You didn’t do it for him. You were doing it for yourself. ‘Cause your body was begging to be touched, to be held, and your mind was reeling with his warmth.

“Don’t look at me like that…” he whispered, and that’s when you met his eyes. They were dark, darker than the night, and soft, softer than your touch on him. You looked at him, with that goddamn beautiful face of yours, and he felt like melting, like dying when you looked away and let him go.

You silently stood up from your seat and walked inside your apartment, leaving him behind as you closed Laura’s door behind your back.

Your breathing was shaky, and your hands were clammy. This is trouble. You shouldn’t. Nothing good would come out of this. You couldn’t loose no one else, couldn’t up your heart once again just to get it broken again.

You tried to make up your mind, try to promise your heart to stay low, to stay safe. But you found yourself having yet another night when your mind wouldn’t shut up and your eyes would stay open.

And worst of all, found yourself looking through Laura’s desk cabinets ‘till your hands finally found that metallic little box that you swore would never touch again.

Soon enough, your fingertips were stained, and the hours seemed shorter.

-

The sound of something falling and breaking on the salon startled you. Your hands left aside what they were holding, your body jolting alive from your seat. Was there someone inside?

You took one of your daggers in your hand, cursing after having left your gun on top of the dinning table.

You stepped outside the room, softly, lurking. Your eyes adapted to the dark and noticed the light coming from the kitchen. You stepped closer, and that’s when you heard it.

“Shit. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” you let down your dagger, let it aside on the table, next to your gun.

“Ellie?” she turned to you, following your voice. She was holding something in between her hands. Something broken. A mug.

You looked at the floor, there was some of the ceramic little pieces that she couldn’t get left, decorating it like snow.

“What’s going on?” you inquired and stepped closer.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I was trying to make some of that tea you drink to fall asleep but then it slipped and… Shit, I’m sorry for breaking it.” she blurted out, and you hushed her by taking her shoulders.

“It’s fine.” you said, and she shook your head.

“But-“

“Ellie. It’s fine. It’s just a mug.” you promised, and she let you take it from her hands to dump it on the trash can. “Now… Why don’t you tell me what’s really going on?” you inquired, looking at her, and she looked away, growing quieter…

“I…, had a nightmare.” she confessed, and your eyes softened. Oh.

She was awkwardly hugging herself, seeming little, seeming just like what she was: a kid.

You silently went towards the stove, where the tea she had sneaked from your jar was boiling and took the pot. You poured it on a new mug for her to sip from, and softly and carefully handed it to her.

She took it with just the same care, enjoying the warmth of it against her fingers.

“Come on.” you simply said, and she followed behind you, slowly stepping inside Laura’s room when you did. She looked just as dazzled as the first time.

You closed the door and that’s when she noticed the staining on your fingertips, the pages filled with charcoal all over the desk. She walked closer, and took a peak.

“Were you…, drawing?” she inquired and you let out a little smile, nodding, this time being you the one feeling embarrassed. “But… I thought Laura was the one who did.” you let out a soft chuckle that made her chest grew warm.

“Sure. But who do you think teached her?” her eyes widened and her mouth fell on a surprised smile.

“You dick!” you laughed when she whispered, inspecting the drawings. Some of them were simple, like flowers and animals, others were more complicated, like portraits of people you knew: Lizzy, Larry, Laura… Joel. She frowned just the slightest, but instead of questioning your motives and make you uncomfortable, she rather asked a: “Hey, and what about me?!”

You looked at her and her scowl. “You want me to draw you?” you eyebrows rose.

“Heck yeah. Though I’ll get mad if you make me look bad.” your chest bubbled with a new laughter.

“Alright. But first let me finish up the one I was drawing, alright?” she nodded and you took a seat on the desk, grabbing the charcoal in between your fingers once again. She stepped closed, inching by your side to watch as you sketched some leaves. Her stomach fell and her eyes shone. It was really simple, but truly beautiful. There was a moth, just like the one tattooed on your bag, with its wings spread open and showing her patterns, standing on two plants with their leaves fully exposed.

“It’s beautiful.” she whispered, and you felt your heart flutter. You never showed people your drawings, didn’t like to brag about your skills or let them out onto the world for it to see, but it had been a long time since someone complimented them, and that made you feel better. Maybe you hadn’t lost your touch after all.

“This?” you inquired as you rose the finished piece. “It’s not that impressive.” you shrugged and let her take it as he pushed the cup away and onto the free side of the desk, away from your sketches.

“Can I keep it?” her eyes full of hope and light looked into yours, and you melted.

“Sure.” you accepted and she only smiled harder, making you smile just the slightest as well.

She gave you her back, inspecting it over her head. She looked so happy. It was a mere simple drawing yet it had made her so happy… Made her forget everything about the nightmares that sometimes tormented her on her sleep.

You looked at her and back to your drawings, his face catching your attention. You hadn’t even noticed you had drawn him, drawn his side profile as he smoked, his eyes as he looked at you…

You pushed it underneath the rest as you rummaged them to clear up a little the space, trying to bury it where it belonged, deep into your head.

Ellie finished up her tea as you cleaned up, and after a couple of minutes of her chatting you up about all kind of stuff; about what she’d have liked to be if the world hadn’t turned into what it was now, about how she’d have loved to travel up and away into the sky, into the space, where only the starts would ever talk to her, she fell asleep on Laura’s bed, her new drawing on the night table behind her back. She was breathing slowly beside you, her wavy hair a mess all over her face. You shook your head with a smile and softly pushed it away and behind her ear.

You didn’t like strays. Didn’t like new people. Change.

But for once in your life, you hoped this feeling wouldn’t go away.

That they would stay.

-

taglist; ♡

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[lambertdiary]

hiii can I request a fanfic where the lipstick demon is high key obsessed with the reader and taunts dalton about it in his dreams and then when it comes to him being possessed like in the movie he was daltons more scared for the reader than himself and when he wakes up his body is like mid way between hurting the reader and he just feels so guilty but clingy incase the demon comes back (I’ve had this idea for a while but I lack writing talent lol) ? thank u if u do write it 💞💞

A/N: omg thank you so much for your request! I’m obsessed with the concept and I had a lot of fun writing this. I think it turned out okay, so hopefully you’ll like it too and hopefully this is something like what you wanted. Please feel free to let me know what you think!!

Word count: 1.8k+

Warnings: established relationship, angst, the further, blood, language

MASTERLIST     ✩    SEND ME A REQUEST

Echoes And Shadows

Dalton is constantly worried about his ‘gift’, he’s terrified of his out-of-body experiences, the realm he travels to, the spirits that constantly stalk him and threaten to take his body, and the dangers that go as far as threatening the safety of his own friends. He was aware of all of them, but he was mostly aware of one of these things going after his girlfriend, so he tried really hard to stay away from that, although sometimes he couldn’t really help it. But right now, his biggest worry is his sick girlfriend.

“I’m sorry we can’t go to the movies today” Dalton said, dropping Chris off at her dorm. Y/N, Dalton and Chris were supposed to have a movie day together for their ‘third wheel session’ (as Chris liked to call it) of the week, but as soon as Y/N said she was feeling a little under the weather Dalton called the whole thing off.

“It’s ok, I get it” Chris opened her door and took her things from Dalton’s hands “Lover boy has medical duties, and I suppose no one can stop you” 

Dalton was slightly overprotective when it came to Y/N “I guess not” He replied smiling at his friend. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll get over it” Dalton just chuckled. He felt bad for canceling on Chris, he really did, but the last thing he wanted was for Y/N to get worse “Well, thanks for walking with me, tell Y/N she can keep my hooter” She exclaimed before closing the door.

Y/N was waiting for Dalton in his dorm, wrapped around his sheets and wearing her comfy pajamas. As he opened the door, he potted her still on his bed, sipping on a hot cup of tea she made for herself while she waited for her boyfriend to come back from class.

“Hey” Y/N whispered with bright eyes at the presence of Dalton.

“Are you feeling better?” He asked sitting next to her, taking the cup from her hands and placing it to the desk next to them.

“Yeah, I think so” Y/N replied, giving him a soft smile. Dalton’s hand went straight to her forehead. His face grew worried as he felt her hot skin against his hand.

“Are you sure you’re feeling better? You’re burning up” He questioned again.

“Dalton, I’ll be fine” She said, removing her boyfriend’s hand from her face “Come here, I just wanna cuddle” She confessed, tugging at his shirt forcing him to get closer “We can still watch something later, was Chris mad?”

“No, she can take it” Dalton softly laid next to her, carefully not to hurt her “Is there anything you need?” He asked as he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, watching as she closed her eyes and burrowed her head deep into his chest.

“No, I just need to rest for a bit” She whispered.

And so they cuddled. Y/N fell asleep quickly, which was a good thing cause Dalton thought she needed it, and he just looked at her, admiring her relaxed face, the way her chest moved when she breathed and if he focused hard enough, he could feel her heartbeats against him. And before Dalton could stop himself, his relaxed state he soon drove him into a deep sleep. Which could only be a problem for him. 

He realized his mistake when he opened his eyes and perceived nothing but a suffocating darkness. He looked around him, trying to find a source of light but the shadows and echoes around him flooded his mind. As he took a few steps he felt his soul sink deeper into this realm, almost as if he was getting detached from his physical body.

Suddenly, a loud noise behind him caught his attention. Turning around, he saw the familiar red lit lair. Not seeing any other option, Dalton decided to walk into the demonic space looking for a way out of that place before anything could find him. Or his body.

Back in the real world, Y/N was still sleeping, holding his torso close to her. A few seconds later he opened his eyes and smirked as he gained consciousness in Dalton’s body. Standing up from the bed, he took a deep breath and examined the presence in front of him. There she was, so… defenseless.

Y/N opened her eyes at the loss of contact “Dalton?” She whispered with her eyes still tired, reaching out for him.

“Still scared of the dark?” He rumbled. Y/N rubbed her eyes quickly. The once familiar voice was now distorted and the soft blue eyes she was used to seeing in her boyfriend were nowhere to be seen. 

“Dalton?” She hopelessly repeated, fear consuming her and confusion fogging her thoughts, ‘How is this happening again? Didn’t Dalton and his dad close that damn door?’

“He can’t hear you” She heard the entity say, getting in the bed dangerously close to her “It’s just you and me” Y/N could feel Dalton breathing in her face, making wheezing noises as it tried to grab her cheek.  

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, trying to avoid seeing Dalton's body in such a state. But even then, she could feel the demon’s malevolent intentions. Eventually, the demon took a step back, looking around the dorm for something he could use to cause harm to the girl sitting in the bed. A string of lights caught his attention, so he moved to the other side of the room to collect them. 

Y/N finally opened her eyes but didn’t dare to say a word, the unsettling atmosphere filling the room as she scanned it looking for Dalton. Finally, her eyes landed on him, watching him as he gathered something from the floor.

Y/N stood up from her spot on the bed and ran towards the light switch, desperately pressing it in a failed attempt to light up the dorm. When the entity noticed this, he turned around to face Y/N, as he slowly approached her, she paid attention to the yellowed eyes and dark features on her boyfriend's face, and as her eyes began to fill with tears with forced breath she yelled “Dalton!”

In the Further, Dalton had a bad feeling. He walked around for a bit, trying to be as quiet as possible to not draw any attention to himself. If the lipstick demon caught him, it would be impossible to get back to his body. Looking for a way out he spotted a lantern in the middle of the room, he quickly walked towards the light, and as he kneeled to grab it, he caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye. A string of lights hanging from the roof, the same ones Y/N brought to his dorm when the Red-Face Demon claimed his physical body a few months back.

With shaky hands, Dalton reached for the lights, and a different part of the lair lit up, revealing mannequins of Y/N and Chris making up a perfectly crafted scene of when they dealt with his possessed body for the first time “Dalton!” He heard an echoey scream.

It suddenly hit him: it happened again. His physical body was just a vessel for the demon he feared the most, probably using him to hurt the girl he loved the most. He turned around and started running, desperately trying to find his way out of the dark realm and back to his body.

Y/N saw Dalton lift his arm. Preparing for the worst, her body flew across the room, landing on the desk making a mess of Dalton’s stuff and probably damaging his sketches and canvases.

She quickly lifted her head to look at the thing, it was getting closer to her, with an intense stare and an evil smirk while his hands focused on the string of lights, wrapping them around his big hands. Blood started dripping from his mouth and eerie sounds were coming from everywhere.

Y/N’s mind was overwhelmed with dread. She looked at him, wondering if Dalton was okay on the other side. The demon stopped in front of her and Dalton’s face was almost unrecognizable, his hair being the only distinguishable feature, Y/N feared this was way worse than last time.

Dalton’s hands stopped adjusting the string, and he began to place it around her neck. She was unable to move, too scared to even breathe at that point. She closed her eyes and awaited her inevitable doom.

Suddenly, she heard Dalton gasp loudly. Still scared, she opened her eyes and found Dalton’s normal being, and with a terrified look on his face he quickly dropped the string and apologies began to fall from his lips as he held Y/N's face.

“Dalton?” She whispered.

“I’m so sorry. I should’ve never put you through this” He said with a broken voice.

“Is it really you?” She asked looking for the familiar blue eyes, relieved at the warm touch of her boyfriend, she inhaled deeply and gave him a soft smile.

“Where did I hurt you?” Dalton asked, desperately examining every inch of Y/N’s body, helping her get back onto his bed.

“You didn’t do this” Her voice was loud “You know this wasn’t you”

“This is my fault-”

“Are you okay?” Y/N asked in a worried tone. 

Dalton looked at her speechless, did she really just asked him if he was ok when she was the one attacked by a demon? One that he dragged into her life? “I only care if you’re ok” He said, bringing her arm up to his mouth after he spotted a bruise “Where else did I hurt you?” Dalton asked as he kissed Y/N’s arm.

“What happened? I thought the door was closed” Y/N was worried something like this would happen again, she was worried Dalton wouldn’t wake up next time.

“I- I’ve been having nightmares again” He replied with his head down “But I didn’t think they were strong enough to pull me out of my body again”

Oh, Y/N was worried, and honestly a little annoyed he never told her this.

“I know what you’re thinking and you’re right, I should’ve told you” Dalton left his bed and went to get a first aid kit, he sat carefully next to Y/N and started taking care of her, his blood boiling as she detailed how and where the spirit hurt her. After finishing up, Y/N insisted she wanted to cuddle again “I’m so sorry Y/N” Cupping her face, he leaned in for a kiss, a little worried she would reject him after what happened.

Thankfully, she kissed him back “Please, stop apologizing or I might break up with you”

After a few more kisses, Dalton stopped and looked at her "What do you need?" He asked her, softly rubbing her hair avoiding any harmed parts.

"I need you to be honest with me"

"I promise" Dalton chuckled and stood up, Y/N watched as he walked to the other bed, laying down and making himself comfortable  “Let’s be cautious tonight”

[em-writes-stuff-sometimes]

Someone wanted to suffer some more so OMG I AM SO SORRY FOR THIS! THIS IS AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE BLURB, DO NOT PANIC!!!

A sequel to the stranger.

rites (’terms of endearment’ au)

Daemon says goodbye.

Triggers: death in childbirth, angst.

The pyre is prepared.

He is tired. When was the last time he had slept? He cannot recall. Most evenings, he sits and watches his son in the cradle, the last vestige of you that remains to him now. He counts every breath, every shift, watches every sign of life, jealously guarding his treasure from a world treacherous enough to steal mothers from babes fresh out of the womb. It’s unhealthy, he knows, but he cannot help it. Little Vaelor is all he has left.

They are waiting for him; Rhaenyra and Laenor, Daeron and Helaena, the Hightower lot. His brother. He cannot bring himself to speak the word. Athfiezar stands upon the rock, mute and subdued, a far cry from the mighty beast he is known to be. He can commiserate, for the dragon is not the only being unmanned by…

By. He cannot say it. If he does not say it, it isn’t real.

There are moments where he feels he is going mad, that his mind is breaking like a wave upon the shore. He sees you in the corner of his eye, flitting behind a pillar, following him in shadows and silence. He feels your breath upon his skin, smells the rose oil in the air, tastes the honey-wine flavour of your lips. You haunt him, and he wants desperately to hope that it is you beyond the veil, keeping him company in the lonely hours of the night, his sweet, devoted girl. He cannot decide if it is better or worse to be plagued by the memory of you, whether these reminders are a salve upon the wound or if it would be better to let you go. For now, he clutches these flashes of you close, these illusions and phantoms that keep the thought of you alive where you now lay still.

His brother had had to tear him bodily from the bed that night. He doesn’t recall it well, but he knows he had held you to him for a time, had felt the warmth fading with each wet pulse of blood upon the sheets. He had laid there with your head tucked beneath his chin and your body in his arms, and you could have been asleep if not for the chill that had crept into you. He’d had the thought that perhaps the fire in his veins could revive you, that perhaps he could press his life force through your flesh and restart the beating of your heart. He had laid there while your family had wept, while the Maesters and midwives had tidied the room, while faces had wandered to and from the room, his pretty bride with your son nestled between you.

Viserys had coaxed him to part from you, so gentle it was as though he was a boy of four once more, being soothed after the loss of his mother. Like the child he had been, he’d folded into his brother’s embrace easily, entrusting himself to the man that had given you life. Had given you life, and he had taken it away. How ironic. He has always destroyed everything he touches.

He cannot sleep, cannot eat, cannot think. He is a wraith, a soulless creature that exists for one thing only. Each day is a trial by combat, steel to the heart that he wishes would lance him open and leave him to bleed so that he may join you. You would need him, even in the beyond; but your child needs him, too. He will make you proud.

The pyre is prepared. You are shrouded from view upon the surface, and he wonders if that makes it easier or harder. No one speaks, and there is no sound save for the breeze upon the grass and Vaelor’s squalling in his brother’s arm. The boy must be here to say goodbye to you.

He looks up at Athfiezar, your first true friend and confidant. The dragon had tormented the city with his screams for days, only falling silent when he’d brought your son to him. It is amusing to him that the creature who had barely tolerated him then is receptive to him now, though it is perhaps more likely that the scent of you upon the boy is what had quieted him. His eyes burn. It is fitting that the beast would be the one to convey you to your end. He clears his throat, reviving the voice he has used little of since you left. Since you died.

Goodbye, my love.

“Dracarys.”

Don’t worry, this WILL NOT HAPPEN in the main series - but I am happy to add these little blurbs to the Alternate Universe train! Thanks for reading!

[fandom-puff]

cersei with 40 from the smut prompt list 🙏🙏🙏

Omg I haven’t written Cersei in so long, but I’ve just finished reading A Feast For Crows and she’s such an icon ugh

Warnings: choking, power imbalance (Cersei is a queen, reader is a handmaiden), dominant/submissive dynamics, fem!reader, inspired by Cersei’s relationship w Taena Merryweather

Prompt highlighted in bold

You were hers, hers alone to fuck and use, no matter how many knights and squires salivated over your young, pretty body. Your skin was smooth against the Queen’s hands, and your hair wrapped ever so prettily around her fingers. But what was most beautiful of all was the way your eyelids fluttered, your eyelashes flashing shadows over your cheeks. The way your eyes dissolved from a doe-eyed stare to one of pure pleasure as they rolled into the back of your head.

And the sounds you made were delicious.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” the queen cooed above you, allowing a short intake of breath before her gentle hand resumed its addictive squeeze around your throat. “You look so very pretty with my hand around your throat,”

You let out a sharp gasp, making to yank your Queen’s hand away, but stopping when her free hand slipped between your thighs, her long fingers dipping into your wetness as her body- still clothed in contrast to your nakedness- pressed firmly against yours, pinning you down to her luxurious silk sheets. Your hand, stopped in its tracks, fell limply to your side as you tipped your head back, baring your throat more to your Queen as she smirked down at you. She loosened her grip again, her smirk growing as you gasped and spluttered and whimpered, your hips bucking into her probing hand. “If only you could see yourself, my dear,” she told you, leaning to whisper in your ear, her golden hair tickling your bare, tightened nipples. “That’s it, fuck yourself on my fingers,”

You whimpered, nodding your head as she resumed her squeezing on your throat, and she almost laughed at the way her little toy’s cunt squeezed in tandem to her hand. Letting out a broken cry, you began to claw at the bedsheets, not daring to paw at your royal mistress, torn between the building oblivion between your legs, and the sweet oxygen you needed to live. Cersei laughed, kissing your forehead. “You may finish, sweetheart, I know you were waiting for permission,” she told you, pressing her thumb to your engorged clit as your orgasm began to crash over you. Simultaneously to your release, she released your throat, watching with wildfire in her eyes as you gasped for air, your overworked body convulsing on her fingers as you cried and thanked your queen, your words coming out a garbled mess as she shushed you softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips as she pulled you tight to her breast.

[nicorobinmywife]

Hello Nico! (If it’s alright if I call you that) ,Neeway I was wondering if I could get a fic with Ace and sabo calling their preferably GN s/o Pretty boy, maybe have them run their through the readers hair and just make it overly fluffy… maybe also add in some soft kisses?

If not that’s okay! Have a nice day/night!!

(A/N): yes, you can call me Nico, i love this name omg 😭, sorry for the delay i had accidentally deleted this one but now it's here, hope u like it ❤.

Calling their S/O Pretty | Sabo and Ace x GN Reader.

Ace

you opened your eyes slowly running your hand over the soft mattress and noticing that Ace wasn't lying next to you, a grunt escapes your lips as you get up to look for Ace, wondering where he must be at this time of night, there were a few times when Ace just fell asleep on Moby Dick's floor and you had to carry him to bed.

"May I know what you are doing, ace?" - you whisper still sleepy and rubbing your eyes, finding Ace in the hallway.

"I went to drink some water and do a little patrol on the ship to see if there is some danger around, babe." Ace's face softened when he saw you, your cold cheeks and red nose.

the night was a little cold and Ace thought it best to go back to the room before you catch the flu.

"You poor thing.." Ace hugged you, his warmth making you relax "Come on lets go inside so you can warm up" Ace said with a soft tone and gave you kiss. "You just couldn't wait huh?" he giggled wrapping his arms around his lover.

Ace held you in his arms, his body heated up by his devil fruit, warming you "feeling better?" He asked with a gentle smile "how about I get you a hot drink.." he kissed your forehead before getting out of the bed, leaving an imprint of his body on the sheets.

you just chuckled wondering what you did to deserve a boyfriend as affectionate as Ace.

after you drank the drink that Ace made for you, he wrapped his arms around you, bringing you closer to his warm body, a sigh escaped your lips not wanting to trade this moment for anything.

"your hair is so soft, and you are so beautiful in my arms like this, i'm so lucky to have you, my pretty boy." Ace whispers running his hand through your hair as he places small kisses on the soft skin of your face

"sleep well, my love." Ace opened a big smile watching you slowly closing your eyes, his hands still caress you and his body keeps you warm on this cold night, after a few minutes Ace fell asleep too, with his arms around you and feeling like the happiest man alive.

Sabo

Sabo lays in the flower fields of the Kamabaka Kingdom, he sighed missing living peaceful days like this, having a free day to have a picnic with his partner was almost rare and he is happy to spend that time with you.

Sabo opened his eyes when a shadow blocked the sunlight and smiled when he saw you.

"you are so beautiful when you are resting like this, huh?" Sabo opened a small smile hearing your praise, you climb on top of Sabo and his hands go to your waist "I wanted this day to never end." you whisper placing a kiss on Sabo's scar, making him feel something warm inside his heart.

Sabo changed positions and now he was on top of you, he bit his lip watching you blush at his sudden movement, you were so beautiful like that, lying in that field of flowers, with the wind moving your hair and enhancing your beauty even more for Sabo, he can't help but run his hands through your hair and make you shiver from his warm touch.

"you are even more handsome, pretty boy." you smiled hearing Sabo praising you , kissing him passionately, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks as you wraps your arms around Sabo's waist, pulling him closer to you, your lips locking in a deep soft kiss.

"I love you so much, Sabo" you whispered between the kiss shivering with Sabo's lips lightly touching your flushed cheek.

Sabo pulls away from the kiss, his eyes half shut as he looks down at his lover. "I love you too, I love you more than anything, pretty thing, you know that?" he leans in and gently kiss your lips again, doing everything for this free day to be the best of all for you and him.

[strawbearytae]

omg i was missin papercuts guk so bad girl

i was thinking a little fic with that tik tok trend where the moles on your skin are where you past lover kissed you and oc and jk compare moles and are like, "even if we weren't together before, I wanna kiss you here too" type of vibes thing yk. pls just pure fluffffff

kiss stains

pairing: jeon jeongguk x reader

genre: fluff, established relationship, college au, slice of life

Studying your scantily-clad body in the mirror, you wandered how much muscle mass you had lost in the past 3 days that you hadn't gone to the gym. The whir of partying with your friends and hanging out with Jungkook had completely made you forget about your sessions at the gym. It was difficult to divide your time around them since your friends still thought of Jungkook as Jaegguk. You let out a small sigh before pulling on Jungkook's t-shirt that hung off one shoulder and a pair of loose shorts.

"Hey," Jungkook came up from behind you, kissing your head before looking at you through the mirror, "Are you done changing? I wanna watch Tototro again."

"But I wanna watch Ponyo." You pursed your lips in a frowned-pout as you watch his face scrunch into a smile.

"But you watched Ponyo last week... please... I wanna see the big bunny?" He pleaded, lightly pulling at your pinky to drag you to his bed to start the movie.

You let out a comically dramatic sigh before crawling into his bed, not missing the small smirk that enveloped his face as he crawled into next to you. After ensuring the two of you were fully covered by his comforter, he enveloped his arms around you as he started the movie.

You comfortably situated yourself on his chest as you did so many times before, tilting your head the slightest to watch the large bunny spirit.

"The house is so clean." You commented, a habit you had developed while watching movies after the many nights with Jungkook's unceasing comments. "I wonder why they're cleaning it again."

"The house hasn't been used in decades." You could hear the slight horror in Jungkook's voice at the thought, "It should be crawling with dust and dirt."

As if he predicted it -which he had since you two watched the movie 3 weeks ago- the traveling soot started to emerge from the shadows.

"They're kind of cute though." Jungkook commented.

"Just like your moles."

"Huh?" You looked up at Jungkook to meet his furrowed brows, "Did you just say my moles look like traveling soot?"

"No." You giggled slightly at his apparent confusion, "I said they're cute." Seeing as he wasn't convinced by the skeptic look on his face you shook your head in amusement, "You know that saying about your moles and your past life?"

Jungkook's confusion didn't fade, "You mean that thing about the marks on your body being traces of how you were killed?"

"Yah!" You smacked his thigh through the sheets playfully, "You know that's not what I mean."

"Hopefully not since I got moles all over my face." He laughed, "So, what about the moles on my face and my past life?"

"They say that the moles on your face are where your lover used to kiss you the most in your past life." You turned in his lap to face him before gently tracing his face with your forefinger, "So your past lover kissed you here-" you traced his cheek "here-" his nose "and here" underneath his lip.

He watched you carefully with fascination as you continued to point the ones out on his jaw, his neck and collarbone before he gently took you finger in his hand. Jungkook tilted his head as his doe eyes narrowed in on the planes of your face, "You don't have any moles on your face."

"Perhaps this is my first life."

"Then it's mine too."

"But you-"

"Ah." Jungkook interrupted before his face bloomed in delight, "I found one."

"Where?" You tried to follow his gaze before you let out a small gasp as he pressed his lips on the juncture between your neck and shoulders.

"Here." He whispered before pressing a kiss on your exposed shoulder, "and here." Then he pressed a kiss to your lips.

"I don't think I have one there." You muttered once he pulled away.

"You will." Jungkook insisted, "In your next life."

"Why?"

"Because I'll kiss you there so many times, that it'll leave kiss stains."

Your lips slightly curved up into a smirk as you watched Jungkook's cheeks redden by his own statement, "Is that so?" You leaned in to him, "Then I guess I'll have to leave some for your next life too." You pressed a kiss to his forehead, "But I want to go over this one" his cheek "this one" his nose "and this one" below his lip.

"W-why?" Jungkook whispered as he cupped the side of your face, looking up at you from his lap.

"Because even if we weren't together in our last life, I wanna make sure the kiss stains in your next life were all from me."

His lips curved up into a smile, and his thumb caressed your chin before he pulled you into a kiss that would leave stains for the next few centuries.

permanent taglist

@wintrhrtt @kimchigguk @bubblytaetae @chimchimmarie @babycoffeefire @mrslilysmoon

[toastedkiwi]

Everybody’s Favorite Roommates

Summary: fan interactions/witnessing the chaos.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Roommate!Reader

The roommates we never knew we needed have finally been seen outside of that very first zoom interview on Kelly Clarkson’s Show and those lovable Instagram Lives. With a collection of stories that our fans have sent in, we bring you the chaos that is Y/n Y/l/n and Chris Evans.

@/bitchesbewildin not gonna lie but Chris Evans and Y/n Y/l/n came into the Target I work at. They were in line at my register. Lizzo was playing on the speakers while they were waiting and Y/n said to Chris, “ooo, your baby mama is playing.” Chris turned to her and said, “I don’t hear you singing.” Her eyes got comically wide and she couldn’t even look at him. I don’t know if she’s pregnant but OMG!

@/anon1 my great grandma’s apartment was next to Y/n Y/l/n’s. My great grandma goes over and they’ll have tea and snacks together. Y/n will play classical music on her piano for her to hear once again. She even played all of Swan Lake. My great grandmother was a former ballerina so it meant a lot to her. Y/n even payed for the whole funeral and attended but she sat in the back and stayed in the shadows.

@/thisismyclarinetbitch ever since Juilliard opened back up, Y/n Y/l/n is roaming the halls with sheet music in hand. I have caught her on FaceTime with Chris Jamal Evans.

@/nobodylovesme y/n paid two thousand dollars to each one of us (some lowerclassmen at Juilliard) just to play Gary’s Song with her to send to her “roommate”. All she said was that she misses him.

@/idontgetpaidforthis it was Valentine’s Day. Chris Evans strolled into the flower shop I work at and he had this pissed off look on his face. Short story is that Y/n Y/l/n out did him for the holiday and the cats they have ate the flowers he got her.

@/whatsmyname my husband and I went to one of the Juilliard concerts to see my sister. We were seated next to Chris Evans who was by himself in whole ass tuxedo. He had a bouquet of flowers ready. His eyes lit up the second she got on the stage. She sang a few words before going “oh wait, I’m not here for that!” Everyone laughed and she played her piano piece which was just so beautiful and drastically different from her usual pop music. And no, we sadly didn’t see Chris give her the flowers.

@/anon2 I was lucky enough to be serving Y/n Y/l/n and Chris Evans. They were dressed up to the nines. He held her hand. He pulled out her chair— he was a complete gentleman to her. They both were so sweet to each other and to me! They were just so polite and actually conversed with me and asked me about myself. I got a huge tip when they finished up. And yes, I did see them kiss each other on the lips so I’m pretty sure they’re dating.

@/noahsbackpain I worked on the set of a recent music video that she did with Miley Cyrus. I overheard them talking about her “roommate” situation. The way Y/n talks about Chris is 🥺🥺. I’m so jealous.

@/dogslovemeeee3 I witnessed, at a dog beach, Chris take off his jacket and put it on Y/n because she said she was cold.

@/sebooway I was on the subway and across from me was Y/n Y/l/n and Chris Evans. They shared earbuds-like they had wires. I overheard them call each other “gramps” and “granny”. At one point they had given their seats to two elderly women and Chris was hanging onto one of the bars and Y/n hung onto his bicep.

@/anon3 y/n visited Chris on the set of ghosted recently. I got to watch her run up to Chris. He had to drop the coffee in his hand to catch her like Terry did with Jake on Brooklyn 99. I want that in my life.

[tojisun]

OKAY BUT toji who's fully awake and refuses to acknowledge how soft he is with you first thing in the morning, refuses to acknowledge how clingy he is when sleepy so one morning, you film him and later on in the day, you show the video to him to prove his clinginess but he just blushes and looks away, saying that that's not actually him and you got a stunt double for the video sdkfjsnjsdkfns

STOP THATS SO CUTE OMG 😭 i can totally see that happening ldjwkej

re: when he walks in, i am loved; extra

like toji waking up earlier than you so he turns to his side to watch you as you sleep. he knows you have to be up in ten minutes and he knows you’d prefer it if you woke up earlier than the time you set on your alarm clock but you need as much rest as you can get so toji just pulls you in his arms and waits out the time. then, when your alarm goes off, he pretends to have been asleep.

he tries to tamp down his smile as he hears you muttering swears to hell and back, groaning and grumbling and being just so cute even when you are sleep deprived.

when you finally rouse from the bed, toji makes a show of waking up, yawning like he got awoken because of your alarm. he’d wait for you to whisper to him that he doesn’t need to be up yet but he’d just grunt and follow you to the kitchen anyways.

when you hover on the kitchen counter, toji wraps his arms around your waist and rests his cheek on the top of your head as you slowly prepare coffee. he used to do it for you but you told him that you would take over because the routine woke you up and set you on your day, so here he is now: shadowing you around at five am.

he is so so gentle. he’s gentle every time but there’s something a lot softer and more fragile and vulnerable at five am. toji wipes the dribble of coffee on the corner of your lips, and he prepares your clothes while you shower, and he buttons your shirt for you, and he cups your cheeks and kisses you on your forehead, and drops you off at the train station.

oh but when he’s sleepy? sure he can’t function a third of how he is when he’s wide awake, but my god he’s so clingy. he’d latch his hand around your wrist, tugging you back underneath the sheets but when you don’t budge, he’d stand up with you grumpily. you always have to hold his hand because he’d bump into a wall or the counter.

you used to just snap pictures of toji clinging onto you while he dozes off at any chance he gets but toji vehemently denies those actions so you turn to taping them. toji’s brows furrow as he watches the recent one: the video is shaky and your voice is still ragged with exhaustion as you say, “toji, dear? i need to leave now.”

toji watches himself whine as he wrapped his big arms around your front, mumbling, “don’t go.”

the whining on the video continued and you burst in laughter as toji’s cheeks explode in flames.

[bel1ewrites]

can you write a part 2 to “such a waste” ? with fluff please and smut if it fits

your writing is so good btw omg i immediately read all of your work

a/n: giggling and kicking my feet rn. Thank you so much!!!

Maybe (Such a Waste pt.2)

pt.1

Description: You and Sam try to find a compromise.

WC: 1k

Warnings: mentions of murder, slight angst, sickening fluff, (sorry in advance for any of my bald readers).

SAM was never much of a cuddler. She often grew too restless in her sleep, tossing and turning and ultimately annoying every partner she’d ever had. She could count them all on her fingers. They’d complain about her skin being too cold for them, often waking them in the middle of the night. They were always good at finding some new hidden flaw about her; something for her to add to the list of issues. However, the reason all of her relationships ended had little to do with her sleeping habits.

She watched as your brow twitched in your sleep, lips slightly parted as you breathed. You clung to her like a bear, leg hiked up over her and arms keeping her pulled to you. Even in a state of unconsciousness your grasp was impressive. While others complained about how much of an icebox she was, you were like a furnace. Her own personal heated blanket. 

She had no idea what time it was. Well, she knew it was early. The sun crept up steadily and casted shadows on the walls of your loft; illuminating you in an almost angelic glow. Your nose crinkled, cheek pressed firmly to her chest. It couldn’t have been any later than seven, she presumed as she looked down at your sleeping figure. 

Unfortunately, Sam had never had to pee as bad as she did at that moment. Slowly and carefully, she removed your arm from where it sat limply at her waist. Then, as stealthily as she could manage, she rolled out from under you and landed on the floor with a thud. Cursing and massaging her hip, she rushed towards the first door she saw, which happened to be a closet. 

“Goddamn loft,” she grumbled, finding another door. You watched in amusement -having woken up as soon as she moved your arm- as she stumbled through your home in search of a toilet. Your new ‘friend’ wore a form fitting tank top and a pair of boxers you’d found in the bottom of your underwear box. 

“I usually just piss in the singular plant,” you informed her with all the seriousness you could muster. Which, albeit, wasn’t much. Said plant seemed to stiffen at the idea. 

“You’re insanely funny,” she deadpanned; finally locating the right door and moving at an inhuman speed to get inside of it.

Curling back into your warm blankets, you called out a muffled, “Thank you! Toothbrushes are under the sink.”

—--------

Half an hour later, Sam emerged with a clean mouth, an empty bladder, and damp hair. She had opted to take a shower, dried sweat from the night before making her uncomfortably sticky, though she'd thrown the top and boxers back on. Your dozing figure formed a lump in the sheets where you lay, limbs sprawled wildly on the mattress. 

The bed shifted as she climbed back into it, propping herself up against the headboard and watching you with amusement threaded through her features. You rolled over and situated your head in her lap with your face buried in her thigh. When you shook your head suggestively, she took the hint and entangled her fingers in your sleep mussed hair. She smelled like you. You loved it.

“So you’re just always needy, hm?” she teased, nails gently scratching at your scalp. All you did was groan in reply, mind focused on how good she was at playing with your hair. The two of you stayed like that for a while, cold fingers on your head and warm thigh against your cheek. Both of you tried desperately to ignore the very large and very real elephant in the room. 

Sam looked around the space, taking in the few boxes and trash bags full of your life. The walls were some sort of off-white; eggshell or whatever the painters called it. They were completely bare, and she got the feeling that they wouldn’t stay that way. She wished that she could see the space full of life; full of you. She wanted to know what the walls would look like when you were done. How many posters would you hang up? Would there be any more piss plants? Would you keep the walls the same color, or paint them in a hue that encompassed who you were so perfectly that it would just make sense? 

“Sam?” you asked, confused as to why her hands had stilled. Your eyes peered up at her, face turning up so that you could rest the back of your head in her lap. She smiled down at you and traced your features with the pads of her fingers. 

“Sorry,” she smiled, “just got a little lost in my head.” 

“S’okay,” came your assurance, eyes falling closed and face relaxing once again. “We should talk about,” a slight pause, “...it soon.”

She hummed, movements never faltering. She knew what you were referring to; what “it” was. The bed felt stiff against her. On the outside she was eerily calm, smile never falling and chest moving steadily with each breath. The inside, however, was a different story. Somehow, you could tell how she felt.

“I’m not gonna turn you in or anything,” you tried to comfort her, eyes opening and gazing into hers. “I mean we did sort of have sex-” (“Sort of?” questioned the aforementioned sex partner.) “-Okay we definitely had sex- amazing sex actually- and I’d like to continue to,” a slight cringe twisted your lips, “have amazing… y’know.” Sam held back her laugh as you stumbled through your tangent. 

“Only thing is,” you continued, “It's generally frowned upon to sleep with a serial killer. Especially one your mother warned you about.” 

“This is true.”

“So… maybe you could take the killing down a few notches and come over here instead to let out whatever you need to,” you suggested to the killer in your bed. 

It was quiet for a minute, save for the sounds of the city that rushed outside. 

“Yeah,” Sam whispered, thoughts running through her head, “maybe.”