#that sounds sweet but it sounds like someone is having trouble moving on...

[mintaikk]

Please note that when Mimzy was hitting on Lucifer, he started standing in a position that showed off his wedding ring

[gyuuberryy]

fatal trouble

pairing: vampire!sunghoon x reader

synopsis: your roommate is hot. really really hot. and odd too. really really odd. after a strange experience with him, you slowly start distancing yourself from him. but, it becomes exceptionally hard with your feelings coming in the way. how are you supposed to protect yourself if you can’t resist him? the answer is you don’t need to. your fates are intertwined and there's no letting go.

genre: roommates to lovers, vampire au, soulmate au

warnings: suggestive content, mentions of nightmares and blood, jealous!sunghoon, 

note: dropping this before i go on hiatus for a month due to school work. i haven't proofread it that well i hope there are no mistakes. also im obsessed with vampire aus, enhablr needs more of them fr!! i hope you enjoy reading this!

word count: 6k

if you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3

the soft glow of your laptop screen illuminated your face, casting long shadows across sunghoon's pristine white sheets. you were sprawled out on his bed, legs crossed beneath you, surrounded by a chaotic scatter of textbooks and papers. the quiet hum of the air conditioner filled the room, broken only by the intermittent clicks of your keyboard.

sunghoon sat at his desk, a silhouette against the darkened room, save for the focused beam of his desk lamp. his fingers danced across the keyboard with an almost rhythmic precision, the soft glow of the screen reflecting in his dark eyes. you’d grown accustomed to the sight of him engrossed in his work, a solitary figure lost in the world of ones and zeros.

you’d known each other for a few months now, the kind of acquaintance born out of shared living space and the occasional group project. as roommates sharing the same major, your apartment had become a de facto study hub. computer science had thrown you together more often than not, and tonight was no exception. 

“hey, did you get the part about the algorithm?” your voice, a whisper in the quiet, cut through the comfortable silence.

sunghoon glanced up, his eyes a deep, almost unnatural shade of red in the dim light. for a moment, you were struck by how different he looked compared to the daylight. “yeah, i think so. isn’t it something about minimising the time complexity?”

you nodded, your eyes scanning the code on your screen. “exactly. i’m just having trouble with the implementation.”

a comfortable silence settled over the room as you both focused on your respective screens. the only sound was the rhythmic tapping of keys and the occasional sigh of frustration. you glanced up at sunghoon, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of his monitor. his long, slender fingers moved with an almost hypnotic grace across the keyboard.

there was something undeniably attractive about his focused intensity. his features, normally sharp and aloof, softened slightly when he was engrossed in his work. it was a side of him you rarely saw, and it was oddly captivating.

you shook your head, mentally scolding yourself for such thoughts. he was your roommate, nothing more. and besides, there was no way he could be interested in someone like you.

“hey,” sunghoon’s voice cut through your reverie, “i think i figured it out.”

you blinked, startled. “oh, really? want to explain it?”

he nodded, sliding his chair back and standing up. he walked over to your side of the bed, his tall frame looming over you. as he leaned in to point at your screen, his scent washed over you – a subtle blend of wood and something else, almost sweet, that you couldn’t quite place.

you felt a strange warmth creeping up your neck as he hovered over you. his proximity was unnerving, yet strangely intoxicating. you swallowed hard, trying to focus on the code in front of you.

sunghoon's breath was warm against your ear as he leaned in closer, his voice a low rumble, "try this." his finger hovered over your keyboard, about to demonstrate.

you felt a shiver run down your spine, not from the cool night air but from the inexplicable sensation of being so close to him. his scent, a mix of something woodsy and faintly sweet, was intoxicating. you tried to focus on the code, to ignore the way your heart was pounding in your chest.

he typed a few lines, his fingers brushing against yours. the contact sent a jolt of electricity through you. you forced yourself to concentrate on the screen, trying to understand the changes he made.

"see?" he said, straightening up. "it's simpler this way."

you nodded, still reeling from the physical contact. "thanks," you managed to say, your voice barely a whisper.

sunghoon stepped back, a small smile playing on his lips. "no problem," he said, turning back to his own computer.

you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. it was just sunghoon, your roommate. nothing more. but the way he had acted, the way he had touched you, it was making it hard to think of him that way.

the room was quiet again, the only sounds the soft clacking of keyboards and the occasional rustle of paper. you were deep in thought, trying to wrap your head around a particularly complex problem when a question popped into your head. on impulse, you asked, “so, sunghoon, what do you do in your free time, when you’re not, you know, studying?”

sunghoon paused, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. a flicker of something, perhaps surprise or amusement, passed across his face before he responded smoothly, “free time is a luxury for a computer science student, don’t you think? but when i do find a spare moment, i usually spend it reading or exploring new coding languages.”

his answer was polite, but it felt rehearsed, as if he'd prepared a response for just such a question. a sense of curiosity sparked within you. you’d always thought sunghoon was a bit of an enigma, but this was a new level of intrigue.

curiosity, a persistent itch, prodded you to ask something more than just about schoolwork.

“hey, i was curious about this” you started, your voice barely audible over the hum of the air conditioner, “where are you from?” it was a simple question, one you would normally ask any new acquaintance, but there was something about sunghoon that made you curious about his past.

he paused, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. for a moment, there was a stillness in the room that was almost palpable. then, with a casual shrug, he replied, "oh, just a small town. nothing interesting." the response was swift, deflecting your question with ease.

confused, you returned to your code, but your mind was racing. there was something off about sunghoon, something that had intrigued you from the moment you met him. you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but there were strange little details that had started to accumulate.

there were those odd instances – like the time you'd woken up in the middle of the night to find the kitchen light on and sunghoon standing at the counter, completely motionless, his eyes glowing an eerie red. or the way he seemed to have an uncanny ability to appear and disappear without a sound. and then there was the peculiar lack of a reflection in any mirror in his room.

these memories surfaced, sharp and clear, as if your brain was piecing together a puzzle it didn't know existed. you shook your head, dismissing the thoughts as overactive imagination. after all, sunghoon was just your roommate, a fellow computer science student. nothing more, nothing less.

a yawn escaped your lips as you stretched, the late hour finally catching up with you. “i think i’m going to call it a night,” you announced, rubbing your eyes. the weight of the unanswered questions about sunghoon was beginning to feel heavy.

sunghoon nodded, his gaze fixed on the computer screen. “alright, good night then. i’ll probably stay up a bit longer.”

you nodded in response, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. as you stood up, you glanced down at the floor. something was off. the soft glow from sunghoon’s computer cast long shadows on the floor, including a distinct one from his chair. but there was no shadow of sunghoon himself. the spot where his shadow should have been was empty, an inky void against the illuminated floor.

a chill ran down your spine. your heart pounded in your ears. your mind raced, trying to come up with a logical explanation, but nothing made sense. you snatched up your bag, your movements jerky and panicked. without a second thought, you fled back to your room, the door slamming shut behind you. you fumbled with the lock, your hands trembling. only when you heard the satisfying click of the lock did you allow yourself to breathe.

your heart pounded in your ears as you leaned against the cool metal of your door. the realisation of what you had seen was slowly sinking in. no human lacked a shadow. it was impossible. a chill ran down your spine.

you tried to rationalise it away. maybe there was a draft, or a trick of the light. but deep down, you knew better. something was profoundly wrong, and it was connected to sunghoon. the friendly, quiet roommate you thought you knew was now shrouded in an unsettling mystery.

you glanced at the clock. it was late, and exhaustion was starting to creep in. you needed to sleep, to clear your head. but how could you sleep with this looming over you? you decided to distract yourself by pulling out a book from your shelf, hoping the words would drown out the unsettling thoughts.

as you turned the pages, your mind kept drifting back to sunghoon. his unusual behaviour, the absence of his shadow, it all fit together into a terrifying puzzle. you tried to shake off the feeling, but it was like a persistent itch you couldn't scratch.

sleep finally claimed you, but it was restless. your dreams were filled with shadows, long and menacing, closing in on you. you woke up with a start, your heart racing. the first light of dawn was filtering through your curtains. you got out of bed and went to the window. the world outside looked ordinary, peaceful. but you knew the truth was far from it.

something was wrong with sunghoon, and you were determined to find out what.

the days following your unsettling discovery were a blur of forced normalcy. you tried to interact with sunghoon as if nothing was amiss, but the weight of your knowledge cast a long shadow over your interactions. you found yourself avoiding his gaze, your voice trembling when you spoke to him.

sunghoon seemed oblivious to your discomfort at first. he’d always been a quiet person, so his reserved nature didn’t raise any immediate suspicion. however, as the days turned into weeks, his patience began to wear thin.

"hey, are you free to study together tomorrow?" he asked one evening as you were both making dinner. his tone was casual, but you could detect a hint of underlying disappointment.

your heart skipped a beat. you’d been avoiding his study invitations, coming up with increasingly elaborate excuses. the truth hung heavy in the air, a tangible thing between you. you hesitated, your mind racing.

"i... i’m really busy tomorrow," you stammered, your voice barely audible. "maybe next week?"

disappointment flashed across sunghoon’s face before he masked it with a forced smile. "sure, no problem," he replied, his voice flat.

as he turned away, you couldn't shake the feeling of guilt. you'd hurt him, and you knew it.

the night was a descent into terror. you dreamt of shadows, long and menacing, closing in on you. sunghoon was there, but not as you knew him. his eyes burned with an unnatural light, and his form was distorted, monstrous. you were running, but your legs were leaden, and the shadows were gaining on you. a scream built in your throat, but no sound escaped.

you woke with a start, drenched in sweat. your heart pounded like a drumbeat in your chest. panic washed over you as you gasped for air. you were disoriented, unsure of where you were. a noise from the living room startled you, and you jumped out of bed.

the light was on, and there, standing in the doorway, was sunghoon, his face etched with concern. before you could react, you found yourself lunging at him, your hands grasping at his neck. he didn't fight back, instead, he held you tightly, his arms wrapping around you protectively.

your sobs racked your body as you clung to him, finding solace in his warmth. he shushed you softly, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. gradually, your breathing began to slow, and your body relaxed.

when you finally calmed down, sunghoon gently guided you back to bed. he sat on the edge, running a comforting hand through your hair. you clung to him, your fear slowly dissipating.

in the quiet that followed, you felt a strange urge to confide in him. your voice was barely a whisper when you began, "i dreamt of you... as something... different."

sunghoon stiffened, but his grip on you didn't loosen. something flashed behind his eyes, but he listened intently as you recounted the terrifying details of your nightmare. when you finished, he was silent for a long moment. finally, he whispered, "go back to sleep," and you felt him lean down to kiss your forehead.

with that, he quietly left the room, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts.

the days that followed were a careful ballet of avoidance. you moved through your days with a practised detachment, constructing an invisible wall between yourself and sunghoon. the weight of your decision pressed down on you like a physical burden. despite the burgeoning crush that had blossomed in the quiet corners of your heart, you'd created a formidable wall between yourself and sunghoon. his enigmatic nature, coupled with the unsettling discoveries you'd made, had convinced you to keep him at arm's length. it was a lonely existence, a self-imposed exile that offered a semblance of safety.

your days were a monotonous cycle of lectures, assignments, and solitary meals. you'd found solace in the company of your classmate, lee heeseung, his cheerful demeanour a stark contrast to the storm raging within you. yet, even as you laughed and shared stories with him, a part of you longed for the quiet intensity of sunghoon's presence.

in the vast, impersonal lecture hall, you’d sought refuge in the anonymity of the crowd. but even here, you couldn't escape the weight of your decision. a persistent sense of being watched gnawed at you, a constant reminder of the eyes that followed your every move. and you knew very well who it was. it was during one such lecture that the tension reached a breaking point.

you were engrossed in your notes when a subtle shift in the atmosphere caught your attention. a cold prickle ran down your spine as you slowly turned your head. there, in the row behind you, sat sunghoon, his gaze fixed intently on you. his expression was a complex interplay of emotions - longing, pain, and a flicker of something darker.

your heart pounded in your chest as a wave of guilt washed over you. you'd hurt him, pushed him away without a second thought. in that moment, as his eyes held yours, you realised the depth of your own cowardice.

not to mention, with each passing night your nightmares had intensified. each night a descent into a darker, more terrifying realm. sleep, once a refuge, had transformed into a battlefield, leaving you exhausted and on edge. the physical toll was evident - dark circles shadowed your eyes, and your skin had started to take on a sickly pallor.

despite your deteriorating condition, you continued to maintain your distance from sunghoon. guilt gnawed at you, but fear held you captive. yet, in the aftermath of each nightmare, you found yourself seeking solace in his presence. he’d sit by your bed his silent vigil a comforting anchor in the storm of your nightmares. his touch, gentle and reassuring, had become a lifeline, pulling you back from the brink of despair.

one particularly harrowing night, you woke up screaming, your body drenched in sweat. sunghoon was by your side almost instantly, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. as your fear subsided, you began to recount the nightmare, your voice trembling.

"i... i dreamt of a place," you managed to say, your words halting. "a dark place, with... with strange symbols."

sunghoon's grip tightened around you. "and you were alone," he finished for you, his voice low and soothing.

your eyes widened in shock. how could he know what you had dreamt about? you hadn’t even managed to complete your story. yet, sunghoon had described it perfectly, as if he had been there with you.

a chill ran down your spine. you pulled away from him, your eyes filled with fear and confusion. sunghoon simply looked at you, his expression unreadable, before turning and leaving the room.

what did this mean? how could sunghoon know about your nightmares? the answers were as elusive as ever, but one thing was certain: the line between the ordinary and the extraordinary was blurring, and you were caught in the crossfire.

the nightmares ceased as abruptly as they had begun. you woke each morning feeling refreshed, the spectre of terror finally lifted from your shoulders. a sense of relief washed over you, but it was tinged with a strange melancholy. the nightly visits from sunghoon, a comforting ritual amidst the chaos, were now absent.

initially, you welcomed the return to normalcy. the constant fear and exhaustion had taken a toll on you, and the ability to sleep soundly was a precious gift. but as days turned into weeks, a nagging sense of unease crept in. sunghoon's absence, once a welcome respite, now felt like a void.

you started noticing subtle changes in him. his eyes, once bright and alert, were now shadowed by dark circles. his once sharp features seemed softened by fatigue. it was as if a weight was pressing down on him, a burden he carried alone.

a pang of guilt struck you. perhaps your avoidance had contributed to his deteriorating condition. you wanted to reach out, to offer support, but fear held you back. what if your presence only made things worse? what if you discovered something terrifying?

you longed to reach out to him, to offer solace and support, but the words remained trapped in your throat. the fear of rejection, of further pushing him away, paralyzed you. it was a cruel irony that the person you yearned to comfort was the one causing you the most pain. 

the afternoon sun beat down on the bustling campus as you made your way towards the nearest convenience store. the promise of a refreshing popsicle was the only thing that could lure you away from the confines of your dorm room. with a popsicle clutched in your hand, you emerged from the store, ready to face the world, one frozen treat at a time.

just as you were about to savour the first bite, heeseung materialised beside you, his infectious grin lighting up his face. "arcade?" he suggested, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. you nodded, the prospect of a distraction proving too tempting to resist.

you split the popsicle down the middle, the sweet, icy treat a welcome respite from the oppressive heat. as you handed one half to heeseung, a strange sensation washed over you. it was as if a cold draft had swept across your skin, a shiver that had nothing to do with the melting popsicle in your hand.

instinctively, you turned around, your heart pounding in your chest. there, on the other side of the road, stood sunghoon, his figure cast in the harsh sunlight. his eyes, usually guarded, were fixed on you with an intensity that bordered on hostility. a scowl marred his usually indifferent features, and his jaw was clenched tightly.

you offered a timid smile, a feeble attempt to bridge the chasm between you. but his gaze remained unwavering, cold and unforgiving. with a final, contemptuous glance, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd.

a wave of guilt and confusion washed over you. you'd hurt him, you knew that. but the intensity of his reaction was unexpected, almost frightening. as you turned back to heeseung, you forced a smile, determined to push the unsettling encounter to the back of your mind.

the encounter with sunghoon left a bitter taste in your mouth. his hostile glare had shattered the fragile peace you'd been cultivating. as you and heeseung made your way to the arcade, your mind raced, trying to decipher the meaning behind sunghoon's outburst. had your avoidance pushed him to the brink? or was there something more sinister at play?

the arcade, with its flashing lights and the cacophony of sound, offered a temporary escape from the turmoil within. you lost yourself in the rhythm of the games, the competitive spirit temporarily drowning out the unsettling incident. yet, even as you laughed and cheered with heeseung, your mind kept drifting back to sunghoon, his angry gaze burning into your memory.

as the afternoon wore on, a sense of unease settled over you. the carefree atmosphere of the arcade couldn't mask the growing storm within. the incident with sunghoon had opened a wound, a raw and painful reminder of the complex dynamics between you.

you glanced at heeseung, his laughter infectious, and felt a pang of guilt. he was doing everything to lift your spirits, to distract you from your troubles. but your mind was elsewhere, trapped in a labyrinth of doubt and fear.

the walk back to your dorm was a solitary affair. the campus, usually bustling with activity, seemed deserted. with each step, the weight of your worries grew heavier. the encounter with sunghoon had forced you to confront the reality of the situation. you couldn't continue to bury your head in the sand, hoping that the problem would resolve itself.

the weight of the day pressed down on you as you unlocked the apartment door. exhaustion tugged at your limbs, but the lingering unease from your encounter with sunghoon kept your mind racing. 

as you stepped into the living room, a jolt of surprise ran through you. sunghoon was standing in the kitchen, his silhouette outlined by the soft glow of the refrigerator.

there was an unnatural stillness to him, a predatory calm that sent a shiver down your spine. his eyes, when they met yours, held a strange intensity, a glint of something dangerous lurking beneath the surface. "fancy seeing you here," he said, his voice low and measured.

you forced a smile, your heart pounding in your chest. "just got back," you replied, your voice barely a whisper.

he approached you slowly, his steps deliberate. "we have that new assignment," he began, his voice low and seductive. "maybe we could work on it together tomorrow?"

your mind raced, trying to come up with an excuse. "i'm... i'm pretty busy," you stammered, avoiding his gaze.

sunghoon's expression darkened. with a swift movement, he closed the distance between you, cornering you against the kitchen counter, his hands grabbing your hips. his proximity was unnerving, his scent, a mix of wood and something faintly sweet, filling your senses. you could feel his breath on your skin, hot and heavy. 

"don't lie to me," he hissed, his voice low and menacing. "i know what's going on."

his grip tightened around you, and you winced. 

"it's nothing," you insisted, your voice trembling. "just... busy."

"busy with heeseung?" he spat out, his jealousy evident in his tone. his eyes narrowed, and you could see the anger simmering beneath the surface.

your face flushed with embarrassment. he was taking this the wrong way. “it’s not like that,” you stammered, your voice barely a whisper.

sunghoon's grip tightened, pinning you against the cool surface of the counter. his breath was warm against your skin, and a strange sensation, a mix of fear and excitement, coursed through your veins.

“don’t lie to me,” he repeated, his voice low and dangerous. “you're avoiding me.”

you didn't know why, but the power dynamic between you and sunghoon was intoxicating. he had never behaved this way before let alone showcase jealousy so blatantly. it was hot. you felt a blush creeping up your cheeks, a mixture of embarrassment and arousal. 

before you could respond, you found yourself leaning in, your lips brushing against his. it was an impulsive act, a desperate attempt to silence him, to end the confrontation. but, to your surprise, he responded, his lips moving against yours with a gentle intensity.

the world seemed to slow down as the kiss deepened. but as quickly as it had begun, it ended. you pulled away, your heart pounding in your chest.

overwhelmed by a rush of emotions, you turned and fled to your room, slamming the door behind you. you leaned against the door, panting, your mind racing. 

the realisation of what you had done hit you like a tidal wave. you had kissed your roommate, a person you were actively avoiding due to a growing sense of fear and unease. the implications of your actions were terrifying. you'd crossed a line, a boundary you had carefully constructed to protect yourself.

a series of frantic knocks on the door jolted you out of your stupor. it was sunghoon, his voice muffled through the wood. "open up, please," he pleaded. your heart pounded in your chest. you couldn't face him now. you needed time to process what had happened, to regain control of the situation.

the knocking continued for a few minutes before finally ceasing. silence enveloped the room, heavy and oppressive. you slid down the door, your body trembling. what had you done?

morning arrived with a sense of foreboding. the thought of facing sunghoon filled you with dread, but the need to uncover the truth was stronger. you waited until the sound of his footsteps faded down the hallway, a sign that he had left for his morning jog.

with a deep breath, you crept into sunghoon's room, a sense of trepidation gnawing at you. the room was immaculate, a stark contrast to the chaos that often reigned in your own space. everything had its place, every surface spotless. there were no hidden compartments, no secret drawers, no clues to the enigmatic man who inhabited this space.

disappointment washed over you. you'd hoped to find something, anything that would explain the strange occurrences, the unsettling behaviour. but the room held no secrets, only a sense of emptiness.

your eyes scanned the room, searching for any hidden compartments or secret passages. everything seemed ordinary, almost mundane. disappointment was beginning to creep in when your gaze fell on a small cabinet tucked beneath sunghoon's desk. it was always locked, a tantalising enigma that had piqued your curiosity countless times.

today, however, there was a change. a key was lodged in the lock, an open invitation to delve into the forbidden. a wave of hesitation washed over you. you were invading his privacy, crossing a line you had sworn never to cross. but the allure of the unknown was too strong. curiosity, like a relentless tide, pulled you forward.

with trembling hands, you grasped the key and turned it. the lock clicked open with a satisfyingly smooth sound. you slid open the cabinet door, your heart pounding in your chest. a mini-fridge, small and unassuming, greeted you. a wave of relief washed over you. so this was the secret? a hidden stash of snacks?

you reached out to open the fridge door, a smirk playing on your lips. but as the cool air enveloped you, your blood ran cold.

inside, lined up neatly on the shelves, were rows of blood bags. the crimson liquid glinted in the dim light, a chilling contrast to the sterile white plastic. the sight was so surreal, so utterly horrifying, that for a moment, you thought you were hallucinating.

your mind went blank. a wave of nausea washed over you as you stared at the horrifying contents of the fridge. this couldn't be real. this was a nightmare, a twisted hallucination. but the cold, hard truth stared back at you, undeniable and terrifying.

the world tilted as your legs gave way, sending you crashing to the knees. blood bags. sunghoon kept blood bags. your roommate, the seemingly normal guy you knew, was a… vampire? the very concept seemed absurd, ripped from the pages of a fantasy novel. yet, the evidence sat before you, a stark reality that defied logic.

panic clawed at your throat, but a desperate hope flickered within you. maybe it was a medical condition. maybe he had a strange blood fetish. anything but a vampire!

"vampires don't exist, do they?", you mutter to yourself still in shock.

"yes, they do," a low voice confirmed, sending a tremor through your entire body. you spun around, scream caught in your throat. sunghoon stood in the doorway, his face unreadable, his eyes a bottomless well of emotions.

shame washed over you in a tidal wave. you felt exposed, not just for snooping, but for the fear and disgust that clouded your mind.

jumping out the window, a ridiculous notion moments ago, now seemed like the only way out. here, trapped in this surreal nightmare, your only escape seemed to be a dramatic leap from the fourth floor. it wouldn't kill you, right? you’d only break a few bones at best, which you were absolutely okay with. 

with a burst of adrenaline, you scrambled to your feet and bolted towards the window, desperation fueling your actions. but before you could reach the latch, a hand clamped around your waist, pulling you back with an iron grip. "don't even think about it," sunghoon's voice was a low growl, the air crackling with unspoken emotions.

you were pinned against his chest, his warmth a stark contrast to the chilling terror that gripped you. his eyes, no longer cold and distant, burned with a mix of anger and concern.

his words hung in the air, a stark contrast to the wildness of your actions. you struggled against his hold, your fear fueling your resistance. but there was an undeniable strength in him, a power that held you captive.

"please, let me go," you gasped, your voice trembling.

sunghoon's grip loosened slightly, and he took a step back. his eyes held a mixture of concern and something else, something you couldn't quite decipher. "i won't hurt you," he said, his voice soft. "i need to explain."

your eyes met his, a mixture of fear and confusion swirling in their depths. sunghoon seemed to read your mind, his expression softening as he took a step closer. he sighed, a heavy exhale that seemed to carry the weight of centuries.

"i know this is a lot to take in," he began, his voice low and steady. "but i need you to trust me."

you nodded, your mind racing. there was something about his tone, a vulnerability beneath the hardened exterior, that compelled you to listen.

"i'm a vampire," he said, the words hanging heavy in the air. "it's not how i wanted things to be, but it's the reality i've been forced to live with."

he paused, his eyes searching your face for any signs of revulsion. but to your surprise, a strange sense of calm washed over you. this was the answer, the missing piece to the puzzle.

he went on to explain his existence, the centuries of solitude, and the desperate hope that had brought him to you. he talked about the blood bags, a necessary evil to sustain his life.

he continued, his voice laced with a hint of vulnerability. "i’ve been alone for so long. i've tried to live a normal life, to blend in. and then i met you."

his gaze softened, a tender look replacing the earlier intensity. "you're my anchor, my reason to keep going. your nightmares, the ones you've been having, are a connection between us. we share them, a soulmate bond, if you will. it's the only way for me to experience human emotions, to feel truly alive."

the revelation was mind-boggling. a vampire? your soulmate? it was a story straight out of a gothic novel. yet, as he spoke, a sense of peace washed over you. there was a truth in his eyes, a vulnerability that resonated with your own.

without thinking, you reached out and hugged him. your arms wrapped around him, offering comfort and acceptance. he froze, surprised by your sudden embrace.

"i don't care," you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest. "i'll figure it out. we'll figure it out together."

he returned the hug, his arms tightening around you. his face was buried in your neck, his breath warm against your skin. you could feel his heart pounding against your chest, a rhythm that mirrored your own. in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of his embrace, fear and confusion faded, replaced by a sense of hope and possibility.

"i'm so sorry about the nightmares," he murmured, his voice filled with regret. "i stopped sleeping for a while, trying to find a way to stop them. i hated seeing you scared, all because of me."

your heart ached for him. he had sacrificed his own well-being to protect you. anger and concern warred within you. how could he be so selfless, so reckless? you pushed against his chest, needing to see his face, to read the emotions swirling in his eyes.

"don't be stupid," you scolded, your voice stern. "you can't just stop sleeping."

you gently pushed against his chest, trying to create some distance between you. you needed to see his face, to gauge his sincerity.

"stop," he whined, his voice laced with playful annoyance. "just stay like this for a little longer."

his words were a stark contrast to the seriousness of the situation, but they had the desired effect. you froze, your body responding to the unexpected shift in tone. sunghoon's grip tightened around you, his face buried in the crook of your neck. his lips brushed against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. the warmth of his breath mingled with the scent of his skin, creating an intoxicating blend that clouded your senses.

you were caught in a whirlwind of emotions, fear and confusion replaced by a growing sense of intimacy. the line between platonic comfort and something more was blurring, and you were dangerously close to crossing it.

his voice dropped to a low octave, a husky rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "i can't stop thinking about how your lips felt against mine last night," he confessed, his breath warm against your skin. he pulled back, his eyes holding yours, a mischievous glint in their depths. 

"can we do that again?" he asked, his voice laced with playful arrogance.

before you could respond, his lips were on yours, claiming your mouth with a fierce urgency. the kiss was a whirlwind, a tempest of emotions and sensations. his tongue explored your mouth, demanding entrance, while your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. the kiss was different from the one you had shared the night before, filled with a newfound urgency and intensity. his tongue explored your mouth, a dance of desire and longing. you could feel the heat radiating from his body, a warmth that was both intoxicating and terrifying.

his hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer. with a swift movement, he lifted you onto the bed, his lips trailing a path of fire down your neck. he nuzzled your skin, his breath creating a tingling sensation. "you smell so good," he murmured, his voice a low growl. "i had to stop myself from pouncing on you the first time i saw you." 

"from now on, you're sleeping in my bed," he declared, his voice firm. "i need to make sure those nightmares don't come back. and besides, i like having you close."

as he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. in this moment, with sunghoon holding you close, everything else seemed to fade away. the line between reality and fantasy blurred, replaced by a single, undeniable truth: you were in the arms of a vampire, and you were dangerously close to falling in love.

his lips trailed down your neck, with such heat that it left you breathless. he nibbled at your skin, his teeth gently scraping against your sensitive flesh. the sensation was both painful and exhilarating, a heady mix of fear and desire. you gasped, your body arching involuntarily. 

"i'm not going to bite you," he promised, his voice laced with a hint of mischief. 

"not yet, at least."

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr

˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱

[finelinefae]

flower [tattooH x Innocenty/n]

synopsis: harry's the boy next door, he's also a tattoo artist aannd y/n's sexual awakening because she's an innocent virgin with a flower shop. 

word count: 8.6k

content warnings: smut (fingering, daddy kink, praise kink, virgin Y/N) 

read part 2 here

my first imagine !! i hope u enjoy it !! i enjoy it here very much !

. . .

Y/N had been having a terrible week.

She owned a flower shop called 'Sweet Juniper' which had been hers for almost an entire year. It had been her dream to share her love of flowers with everybody so when she finally saved enough money to set up a shop, she worked tirelessly to make it the best possible floral shop the town had ever seen.

People would put in special requests if they needed flower arrangements for special occasions or others would just come by to just lift their mood a little bit if they were having a tough day. Y/N loved her customers and spent so much time chatting throughout the day all whilst tending to her plants.

But this week was not fun.

The shop next door had been empty for a long time now - ever since Y/N had set up shop. She lived in the flat above the shop so it was ideal not to have to handle any neighbours. But the past few weeks, decorators and construction workers had been making a lot of noise - fixing up the empty shop - which meant someone was moving in.

Y/N hadn't met them yet so she wasn't sure what the shop next door would be. The town was relatively quiet so she expected a bakery or maybe a clothing boutique. Only yesterday, with the shop all set up and ready to go, she found it to be nothing of the sort.

It was dark and music pulsed through the walls of her flower shop. The heavy bass made it sound like someone was trying to fight their way through the floorboards she had painted a very, very light pink.

Her customers had complained especially the older bunch. They had trouble concentrating whenever they tried to talk to her or hear her advice on what the best flowers were during the current autumn season.

So after a not-so-fun week and frequent visits to the corner shop to top up her headache medication, Y/N made the decision to confront her new neighbour and tell them exactly how she felt. She wasn't going to let her flower shop fail because of an inconsiderate, noisy fool.

Y/N flipped the sigh from 'open' to 'closed' and took off her apron which had her name in swirly handwriting embroidered onto the breast pocket. She took three deep breaths and mentally went through her speech. She wouldn't be unkind but she would be fair.

"You can do this Y/N," She said to herself before she exhaled and opened the door to walk five steps over to her next-door neighbour.

She hadn't seen the shop properly since the decorating was completed so was immediately struck by how dark it was in comparison to her own shop. It was painted black with illustrations and pictures of people's tattoos set up in the shop window.

The pavement was lit up in the darkness by the red neon lights coming from inside the shop. Everything about it was so different to her baby pink and white flower shop.

The sudden thought of turning back and going upstairs to her apartment almost tempted her enough to turn away but she knew the problem would not be resolved if she were to sit by and do nothing.

Her Mary Jane heels tapped against the pavement as she came to stand in front of the door. It seemed as though the shop was still open, so she pushed the door and stepped inside.

The smell of tobacco and musk and ink hit her senses as she closed the door behind her. The heavy bass of the music was now pounding through her ears. The nerves were rising within her and turning back seemed much more tempting now.

She spun on her heel and reached for the door handle, only to be stopped by someone clearing their throat.

"Are you here for a tattoo?" His voice was deep, husky and... pretty.

She turned around and was met with a tall figure standing in the doorway to the back of the shop. His arms were by his side and he was wearing a black, fitted shirt with black trousers and low cut doc martens with red laces. His face was illuminated by the red, neon sign on the wall with the words 'Styles INK' written in a grungey font.

"T-tattoo?" She gulped, the script she had rehearsed over and over again was nowhere to be found like the words had silently fallen from her brain, through her nose and slipped from her mouth before she had time to speak them out loud.

He walked to the front desk, footsteps heavy against the wooden floor. "We don't take walk-ins this late at night if that's what you're after."

The tone of his voice made her tremble in her heels. She curled her fingers into a fist and tried to stop her heart from beating so fast. "I-I'm not here for a tattoo. I-I'm actually from next door."

His head lifted up, she could finally see the colour of his eyes were a pale green and his hair was curly and brunette. "Ahhh," He dropped the pen he was fiddling with on the desk, "The flower girl."

She huffed, "Yes, that would be me."

"M allergic to flowers." He said.

"W-what? Why would you set up shop next to a flower shop then?" She asked.

"Only place that offered a space with an apartment." A breath slipped past her lips.

He was not only her shop neighbour but her neighbour neighbour too.

Well, this just made things a bit more awkward.

He came in front of the desk and leaned against it, crossing his arms. Y/N saw every inch of the skin on his arm littered with tattoos and even caught a glimpse of his ring-clad fingers. "Listen, if you're not here for a tattoo then why are you here? I need to close up so I'd appreciate it if you were quick with whatever it is you came here for."

Y/N swallowed her nerves, "Your music is too loud a-and it's driving my customers away."

"What was that?" He wanted her to repeat herself.

"Y-Your music, it's much too loud and my customers are c-complaining." She wished she didn't stutter but at least she got what she needed to say out.

"My music?" His eyebrows scrunch up.

"Yes." She nods.

"What about your music?" He retorts, "s all I can hear when I'm upstairs."

She immediately blushes and wonders how long he has been staying in the apartment upstairs. Y/N was so used to not having neighbours that she hadn't thought to turn her music down or take a break from her lonesome karaoke nights.

"That's different."

"If I have to hear you sing to that broken-hearted, bubble-gum pop princess every night then you can't complain about me playing my music like I have." He argues.

"B-but I don't play it in the day like you do! It's so loud! It is - hey quit laughing!" She huffs when he snickers at her.

"M sorry, you're just so little." He laughs. "Maybe that's why I haven't seen you since I've moved in."

Y/N crossed her arms, "I'd just appreciate it if you turned your music down a little, just so my customers can shop for their flowers in peace."

He says nothing. Instead, his eyes scan her face and then fall on the rest of her. She was wearing light blue jeans and a pink, cosy sweater. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail with a white, silk ribbon and her heels were still on her now aching feet.

He smirks, "Alright, I'll turn my music down but you have to do the same. I don't want to hear you sing about Romeo and Juliet or running out of the woods at 11 o'clock at night when I'm trying to relax."

She turns pink but luckily the red light hides the true colour of her cheeks, "Fine." She huffs and turns on her heel, too embarassed to say anything else.

"It was nice to meet you, flower." He says and she swears she can hear him smiling.

Her entire face heats at the nickname.

***

The next day, Y/N walked downstairs to her flower shop and prepared for a new day. She spent the rest of her night after visiting the stranger next door, quietly listening to music in hopes he would reciprocate today.

She hadn't seen him since last night and part of her was grateful for that. He was tall and intimidating and covered in tattoos but his voice was just so...nice that she couldn't seem to get the thought of him out of her head since she walked out of his tattoo shop. It was embarrassing to admit and Y/N was awfully bad at hiding her emotions so she hoped that would be the last time she'd speak to him face to face.

When she flipped the sign on the door to 'open', she held her breath as she waited for the sound of heavy, rock music coming through the walls only to find complete silence. She smiled and mindfully tapped herself on the back for being brave enough to go over and stand her ground.

Her customers were happy with the change too. They stayed and chatted with Y/N for a while, bringing home their baskets of flowers. The day had been much more successful than the past week had and she was thankful things would finally get back on track.

After cleaning the shop at the end of the day, she walked upstairs to her apartment and immediately decided to get into her new cute pyjamas she had ordered from Hollister - long trouser bottoms and a cute tank top both covered in the same pink, ditsy floral print.

She made herself some dinner and snuggled up on her tiny couch with her pet cat, Marshel, nestling to the side of her. Y/N hummed in delight when she made the decision to re-watch her favourite Harry Potter movie- it was the best film for the autumn weather.

Ten minutes into the movie sounds of people speaking and loud music sounded through the walls of her apartment. "Oh please no," She looked up at the ceiling, praying that someone out there would put her out of her misery.

It could only be her new neighbour, the tattoo artist, the one with the nice voice.

She pressed her ear against the door of her apartment and from the racket of people speaking and how loud the music was, she knew he was having a party.

"It's going to be a long night Marsh." She sighs, picking up her kitty and carrying him to bed.

At 2 am, Y/N was still awake. The party was still going and the music had yet to quieten down.

Y/N had been tossing and turning all night. Tears in her eyes as she tried to sleep but couldn't because of the loud noises coming from next door. At this rate, she'd only get four hours of sleep before she had to be up again for the busiest day of the week at the shop.

She couldn't handle it anymore. She flipped her duvet off and swung her legs over the bed. Her eyes fighting to stay open as she stumbled for the door.

At this rate, she was so tired she didn't care how she looked. She just wanted the quiet.

She flung her front door open and already found herself outside the tattoo artist's door. She knocked but the music was so loud, the only thing she could do was invite herself in.

The door opened and suddenly she was in a whole new world. There was cigarette smoke and a strong stench of alcohol. It was dark but red LED lights lit the room. People were laying on the floor or sitting around chairs or dancing in the empty spaces. There must have been about thirty people but with how tiny the apartment was it felt like much more.

Y/N took a deep breath and began her mission to find the source of where the music was coming from. Everyone was much taller than her which made it harder for her to push past people, especially in their drunken state.

"Excuse me please," she mumbled.

"Flower," his voice made her freeze in place.

She stilled and spun round on her sock-covered feet, making a mental note to throw them in the trash when she got home.

The person standing in front of her looked the same, wearing the same all black outfit he wore yesterday. She could see the illustrations of his tattoos a little better this close and she could also see the anger that covered the features of his face.

"Y-you." She said through parted lips, unable to hide her fear or shock.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He grabbed her arm and pulled her to a corner of the room. He placed his hand on the wall behind her and covered her with his body like he wanted to hide her away.

"The m-music it's too loud and I-I can't sleep." She said, nearing on tears.

"You and your loud music." He muttered, "It's Saturday night. Shops aren't open on a Sunday."

"Mine is." She said.

"What?"

"I open my shop on a Sunday. I do work shops for little kids whose parents have to work on weekends and for elderly people who get a little lonely." It was her favourite day of the week but now she was dreading it because of the lack of sleep.

His expression seemed to soften but he rolled his eyes, "Of course you do."

"I just need to sleep for four more hours and then you can carry on doing whatever you're doing." He smirked.

"You've never been to a party before flower girl?" She shook her head and yawned.

Harry's smile fell and he sighed. He looked around at the party and then at the sleepy girl in front of him. "Fucks sake." He muttered and wrapped an arm around her.

Y/N's eyes widened when his hand rested on her shoulder. He tucked her into his side and quickly manoeuvred past everybody.

"Is that your new girl Styles?"

"Nice one, H."

"Have fun Styles."

"Ignore them." Harry told her as he reached their front door.

"Is that your name? Styles?" Y/N realised she had yet to ask what his name actually was.

"S Harry. You call me Harry." He says and she smiles at how normal and soft his name was compared to his dark and grizzly stature.

She hadn't realised what he was doing until he opened the door to her apartment. She gasped, suddenly wide awake and highly alert considering he was now in her very messy, untidy apartment.

"W-what are you doing?" She ran to her sofa and picked her blankets up from the floor before grabbing her bowl of popcorn from the coffee table that was littered with books and magazines she was halfway through reading.

Harry's eyes darted around her small apartment. The corner of his lips flinched into an almost smile when he saw the pastel colours littered around the place. It was so her - cute and cosy.

"You wanted to sleep." He said, "M helping you sleep."

Her mouth opened and closed in shock, "Helping me sleep?"

"Mhm, I've got these," He pulled out some earbuds from his pocket, "They're noise cancelling. Can't hear a sound when you've got them in your ears."

She looked at them in intrigue, "Where's your room?" He wondered, already walking in the direction of her bedroom like he'd been in her apartment many times before.

"My room's a little untidy," She tried to get past him so she could block him from coming into her room but he was much too tall.

"Don't care flower, just helping you out." He walked into the messy bedroom and paid no mind to the state of the floor. She'd never had a man in her room before so wasn't sure exactly what to do. Her apartment seemed so much smaller from his presence alone. "Get into bed, love." He pulled out his phone.

"O-okay," She said and tucked herself under her blanket.

It was strange to let a person she barely knew into the confines of her room but she was too tired to care and something inside of her trusted him.

He crouched beside her, resting an arm on her mattress. "Here put these in," He handed her the headphones, "Can you hear me?" He asked but received no reply, instead, Y/N giggled.

"I can't hear you Harry!" She laughed and something weird happened in his chest.

He smiled, "Tha's good." He murmured and put on a song he knew she would like.

Her heart stopped beating in her chest when the gentle piano music began to play. An instrumental of 'Cardigan' by her favourite singer whispered into her ears as he played it on a low volume.

"Sleep now flower." He encouraged.

"M name's Y/N." She whispered, her eyes fluttering shut, "You can call me Y/N."

"Y/N," He whispered back and the name seemed to unlock something deep inside of him. He said it once more for good measure before leaving her there with the music still playing.

***

Y/N woke up the next morning with a phone that was not hers resting right by her head. She had managed to fall asleep for four hours thanks to the man who she now knew as Harry. She felt as though last night was a fever dream and Harry had been a guardian angel, granting her sleep at last.

She could have slept in for another four hours but the shop would not run itself and she had many workshops on today that a lot of people had signed up for. She grabbed Harry's phone and made a mental note to give it back to him before she went to open the shop.

She made herself a good breakfast and fed Marshel as well, before getting dressed into a grey mini dress with a cute white collar and an encrusted black bow. She tied her hair back into a half up, half down and fastened it with a black bow to match her dress. She wore the same black Mary Jane heels and a bag with her packed lunch inside.

When she left her apartment, she listened out for any loud music coming from Harry's apartment only to be met with silence. She knocked three times- his phone in her hands- but no one answered.

She'd come back later, she thought. Maybe he was also catching up on some much-needed sleep.

Her first workshop of the day was with a group of children.

Their parents worked weekends and some of them were from the orphanage that they had signed up to help them develop new hobbies. Y/N knew them all by name and loved teaching them how to grow their own tomato plants and arrange flowers with cute bows.

An hour before lunch, she had a class with a group of mothers whose children had just left home. Most of them came because they needed a little company on the weekends when not a lot was going on at home or they wanted to pick up a new hobby.

In the midst of her basket weaving session, Y/N heard a phone ring. She glanced at the phone still on the front desk and saw the screen lighting up. "Excuse me ladies," she slid off the chair and walked over to Harry's phone.

Mike Supplier was the name on the screen. She wondered whether or not it was important and if she should answer it just in case. The phone stopped ringing for a brief moment until the name lit up the screen again.

"Seems important, Y/N." One of the ladies said.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and walked to the back room, pressing the green button to accept the call. "Fucking finally!" A gruff voice speaks on the other end, "I've got your stash when do you want it?"

"Excuse me?" Y/N blushed, not use to such aggressive language.

The person paused, "Are you Styles' new lady? Listen can you put him on the phone? I need to speak to him urgently."

Y/N was in shock, "I'm not his lady! I'm his neighbour."

"Well, whatever you are could you just pass the phone to him?"

"Give me a second," She huffed, entering the shop again and turning towards the ladies who were in deep conversation, "Ladies, I just need a moment to go next door." They nodded.

Y/N could hear Mike Supplier cursing over the phone even as she had it by her side. She noticed Harry's shop was still unopened so went upstairs instead.

She knocked on the door of his apartment repeatedly until she finally heard footsteps coming towards the door. His door swung open, "Can I help you flower?" Her eyes widened.

He stood in the doorway with nothing but grey sweatpants and socks. His bare torso was littered with tattoos and his brunette hair was clipped with a tiny claw clip.

"Your p-phone," She held it out to him. His eyebrows furrowed like he had a lot of questions as to why she had his phone but he took it from her anyway and held it to his ear.

"Yeah, yeah shut up." He spoke. Y/N could still hear Mike Supplier talking on the other end. "Come by this afternoon. I'll wait outside the shop and don't wear that dodgy fucking hat this time."

The conversation ended and Y/N stood awkwardly in front of him. "Well I should go,"

"Wait," Harry stopped her "Did you steal my phone from me flower girl?"

"N-no! You left it in my apartment." She argued.

"Oh yeah," he grins like he was thinking back to being in her room last night, "Your lips go all pouty and you snore when you sleep you know that? 'S cute."

"Hey," she huffed, "I do not snore!"

"Whatever you say baby." Her cheeks warmed at the new nickname he had accidentally added to the seemingly growing collection.

"W-well who was that anyway. He was a little rude." She mumbled.

"You spoke to him?" He arched a brow, "was he rude to you?"

"He swore at me,"

"Dick." Harry muttered, "He's my supplier."

"Oh like for the shop?" She asked. Harry could have sworn he was having palpitations from how innocent she looked.

"No baby," he smirked, "a different kind of supplier."

"Oh," she said, still not fully understanding what he was getting at, "Well I better get down to the shop. My class is waiting for me."

"Sure I'll come with you." He grabbed a sweater and his jacket from the coat hanger.

"Wait, what? No."

"I'm bored and I want to hang out with you." He shrugs, "I don't see how that's a problem."

"You want to hang out with me?" She couldn't make sense of it.

"Mhm," He shut the door of his apartment behind him, "Lead the way, flower girl."

Y/N argued with him as they walked back downstairs. She tried to push him out of the shop before he could even step foot inside but she was too small for his 6ft frame and he gently grabbed her waist and picked her up as if she weighed nothing, stepping into the shop.

All eyes turned in their direction. Y/N blushed and stuttered as she said, "L-ladies, this is my neighbour."

"Hi, I'm Harry." He said from behind.

The ladies looked confused and then concerned and then suddenly they were grinning ear to ear, slipping out of their seats to welcome their new guest.

"Oh Harry, you look as old as my boy! It's so lovely to meet you." Mildred, one of the elder ladies said.

"Nice to meet you too." He spoke in a warm, almost flirtatious way.

Y/N stood there in shock, her mouth opening and closing like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Kathy and Lucy had already sat him in between them both and got him the things he needed to weave a basket.

"Are you interested in flowers Harry?" Julia asked.

He looked across the table over at Y/N whose cheeks seemed to be a shade of red they'd never even been before. "Only one."

"Oh well Y/N's an excellent teacher. We're making hanging baskets to plant daffodils in them for the spring."

"Hmm I guess I've come to the best place to learn then." His eyes remained fixed on Y/N who defeatedly picked up her basket to show Harry exactly how to make one himself.

"How are you so good at this?" Y/N whispered in awe as Harry finished his basket.

"These hands are good with fiddly things." He says.

"Oh that's wonderful Harry!" Kathy exclaimed, "You could take over Y/N's job. Might help her out and she can finally have a much deserved rest."

"S that right? You tired flower?" Harry murmured when he saw Y/N's eyes opening and closing as she leant against the desk.

"Not tried at all," she lied but Harry seemed to see right through her.

"Hmm," he frowned which immediately had Y/N standing straight and trying to disguise her exhaustion a little better.

"You hungry?" A tall shadow loomed in front of Y/N as she sat at the desk, processing payments for her classes and labelling the baskets for the ladies to take home.

She looked up and saw Harry, his voice now a familiarity after the last almost twenty four hours since she had met him. "A-a little." She decided not to lie this time since apparently, she was much easier to read than she thought.

"I've got food upstairs, wanna come up?" He asks.

"A-Are you sure?" 

"C'mon little flower, I wouldn't be asking you if I didn't mean it." With a nod, Y/N locked up the shop for lunch and followed Harry up to his apartment. When she stepped inside, it was completely different to how it had been last night. 

It was clean and tidy. A few boxes were lying on the carpeted floor of his open living room here and there, but for the most part, it was pretty neat. Y/N's eyes were immediately taken by the prints hanging up on the wall. 

"These are incredible." She gasped, feeling particularly fond of a line drawing of a woman. 

"It's my mother," He stood next to her, looking up at the drawing with her. 

"You drew it?" She asked, wide-eyed.

"Mhm," He hummed. 

"Wow, no wonder you're a tattoo artist," She glanced at the intricate tattoos littered on his arms. 

"Ever thought of getting one yourself?" He asked. 

"N-Not really, I'm no good with needles." She said, rather sheepishly. 

He smirked, "Let's get some food in that tummy." 

Twenty minutes later, Y/N and Harry sat on the small two-person couch eating sandwiches and a fruit salad they had prepared together in Harry's even smaller kitchen. Y/N giggled as Harry threw a grape into the air and tried to catch it in his mouth.

"T-tell me about your tattoos," Y/N insisted after taking a bite out of a strawberry. Harry's eyes looked down at her lips and back to her big, doe eyes. "What does this one mean?" She questioned, pointing to the words written in Hebrew.

"M' sisters name," He starts, "And that says 'Can I stay?'" 

"Hmm, you have a lot of hearts." She said, fingers lightly touching the human heart on his arm. 

"I have a lot of love." He grins, cheekily, like he knew the line was cheesy but wanted to use it anyway. He was glad he did from the smile it had formed on Y/N's face.

Y/N hadn't realised how close they had gotten until she felt his breath on her neck.  Her voice wavers slightly as she tries not to think too much about it, "And what about this one," She points to the rose, her fingers tracing the petals. 

"I did that one myself," He murmured, lips close to her ear. 

"You did?" She said but it came out more as a whisper. She seemed to have forgotten how to breathe, her brain turning to mush and all her thoughts suddenly turning into Harry. 

"Mhm," She glanced up and his deep, green eyes were already boring into her. Her eyes darted down to his lips and then back up again. "You're pretty," He mumbled, loud enough so she could hear.

She shook her head, "I-I don't think so," She was suddenly flustered and confused and wondering why her brain was not acting the way it usually did. 

"I know so," His hand reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ears, and she shudders when his fingertips brush against her cheek. Slowly his head inches forward and the nearer he gets it feels as though more oxygen leaves the room. "Relax," He whispers, touching her hand, "You're okay flower girl."

"H-Harry, I-I've never kissed anyone before." She admits, embarrassment flooding her. 

"What?" He furrows his eyebrows. 

"O-oh, it's just that... I've never been k-kissed before."

"By anyone?" She nods. "Impossible." He whispers.

"We can stop if you want to," He says, his voice gentle and comforting.

"No," She wraps her small fingers around his wrist before he pulls away, "I-I want to,"

"Want to what?" He smirks, "You've gotta tell me baby."

"I want to k-kiss you," She blushes, it's all she seems to do around him.

"Cute," He murmurs before his lips press to hers.

Y/N's not sure what to do at first, her eyes are open and shock courses through her, but Harry's lips move against hers and he breathes, "Relax flower," He insists and she does. 

Her eyes flutter shut and she mimics his movements. What he gives, she gives right back and a small whimper leaves her when he kisses her even harder. She starts to lose her breath with how long they kiss for but she's far too deep, floating too much, to pull away. She grabs the back of his neck and pulls him in closer, a groan eliciting from somewhere deep inside him. "Baby," The name escapes his lips and a shiver runs through her. 

With panting breaths, she pulls away and so does he. Her face is flushed and his lips are pink, "You okay?" Is the first thing he asks, receiving a nod. "I think 'm a little bit obsessed with you." He confesses.

"M-Me?" She couldn't believe what he was saying. 

"Don't think I've ever wanted anything more," He looks away like being vulnerable is a foreign thing for him.

"Why?" She can't help but ask.

He shrugs, "Sometimes it just is." 

She thinks on his words before replying, "Can we kiss again?" 

Harry chuckles, "Kiss me all you want flower."

. . .

Y/N had a permanent smile on her face the next day as she went back to work. People asked her what was making her so happy and she was constantly finding things to lie about instead of speaking the name of the tattooed boy next door. 

An hour before lunch, the postman came to deliver her new ribbons for the bouquets and accidentally dropped off a package meant for Harry. Y/N couldn't help but smile at his name written on a brown box. 

"Give me a second ladies, I'm just going to pop next door." Y/N grinned, ignoring the knowing looks of the ladies she was teaching. 

As Y/N walked next door, her confidence seemed to shrink with every step. She realised she had yet to go to Harry's tattoo shop when he was actually working and she knew she would stick out like a sore thumb once she took a step inside. She was wearing a lilac dress and white heels, of course, she was going to stand out.

The bell rang as she stepped inside and a few customers looked up, some of them doing a double take at the small girl. Music played through the speakers but it was a lot less quiet compared to the first day Harry's shop had opened. 

Footsteps walked on the wooden floorboards and Harry walked out from the back room. His eyes caught sight of Y/N and his frown immediately turned into a smile. He held his arms out for her and she quickly walked into his embrace. "Hi flower," He murmured into her hair. 

"I came to drop off your package," She held out the box to him when he let her out of his arms.

"Oh," He took the package from her, "That's all?"

She bit back a smile, "Mmm, I may have something very important to tell you," She gave him a not-so-subtle wink.

He grinned, almost wickedly, "Well, do follow me this way to tell me this very important thing," He led her way from the waiting area and somewhere closed off and hidden from everywhere else. 

When they were alone, he grabbed her hips and hoisted her up onto a countertop, knocking things over. "Harry," She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

"Shhh no more talking baby," He said before kissing her lips that he spent all night dreaming about. Their mouths were wet and hot against each other as they made out in a closet hidden away from Harry's customers.

His hands slid down her back and around her waist, pinching her hips, "Did you wear this dress f' me baby?" He murmured, the tone of his voice sending shivers up Y/N's spine. 

"Wanted to be pretty for you." She told him. She had spent all morning trying to find a nice outfit to wear, not only for work but for when she saw Harry too.

"Fuck," He groaned against her lips, "Where have you been all my life?" 

Y/N felt like a teenage girl getting all flustered and hot over a boy. She'd never experienced being with someone in this way before and now she had a taste for it and couldn't get enough of him. She had left Harry's apartment yesterday in a daze and she felt like she was still floating from the high of her first kiss. 

He stood in between her legs and she subconsciously rolled her hips against him. She gasped in both shock and at the feeling of him against her, "You're okay baby," He soothed her, sensing her confusion.

"Feels good huh?" He pulled her hips into him again and she felt a moan bubble in her throat. "Have you ever touched yourself Y/N?" He wondered. 

She froze, "N-no," She confessed, embarrassed. 

"Nothing to be ashamed of baby," He comforts her, his words soothing the insecure part of her. He kissed her lips softly, "Can I visit you this evening?"

She nods without even thinking about it, "Please," 

He smirks, "Please baby? Please? What are you asking for?"

She didn't know, her mind was foggy and all she could see was him, "Everything." 

His eyes darkened but his smirk never left, "'M polite little flower."

"Harry," She whined, burying her face in his neck. 

Harry laughed and cupped the back of her with his hand, kissing her forehead, "I'll come visit tonight and you better be wearing those cute pyjamas," He knew she was smiling because he could feel her lips against his neck. 

That evening after Y/N had closed the shop, she ran upstairs to her apartment and kicked off her heels. She ran around her living room, hiding things she didn't want Harry to see and flinging dirty laundry into the washing basket. 

She walked into her very pink bedroom and pulled out her pyjamas, happy to finally be wearing something comfortable. She spritzed some of her favourite perfume and rubbed vanilla lotion into her skin. 

Y/N sat on her sofa with Marshel seated by her feet on the carpeted floor. She switched on the TV and watched a few episodes of friends whilst continuing to finish her knitting project - she was making a blanket since one of the ladies from her group was pregnant and would be giving birth very soon. 

She fought to keep her eyes open as she waited for Harry to knock on her door. His shop was meant to have closed twenty minutes ago so she assumed he'd be here by now. 

Slowly, an hour had gone by and Y/N was getting worried. Her mind spun with insecurities and a sudden fear that something might have happened to Harry. She placed her knitting project on her coffee table and patted Marshel on the head. She walked to the door and slid her sock covered feet into her brown UGG boots. 

The shop was not its usual LED red colour when she came to stand in front of the window, instead it was neon blue. Y/N frowned when she heard music playing from inside and checked to see whether the door was open.

Her hand pushed the door handle, the door swinging open and the muffled music suddenly became coherent. She could hear voices coming from the back room where Harry tattooed his customers.

Walking towards the sound, Y/N eventually caught the sound of Harry's voice amongst the group of people chatting. Her shoulders relaxed at the thought of him being here, at least she knew she'd be okay if he was there with her. 

Turning the corner, her eyes landed on Harry with two other tattooed men, smoking something that - in Y/N's opinion - smelt a little strange. 

Harry must have sensed her presence as he turned his head and caught sight of her hiding behind the corner wall. He smiled, "Hey flower," 

"Hi," She murmured, feeling embarassed. 

"C'mere," He held out his arm for her and she scurried towards him, attaching herself to him by snuggling her body into his side. He put an arm around her, kissing her forehead. "I thought I was meeting you upstairs?"

Y/N frowned, "You took too long,"

He smirked, "M impatient girl," He nodded towards the two men he was talking to, "Y/N, these are 'm friends, Mike and Dan."

"Mike supplier," Y/N whispered, finally putting a face to the name of the man she had spoken to on Harry's phone.

He was tall and bald with a beard and looked to be in his forties. Like Harry, he also had tattoos but not nearly as much. Beside him was Dan who looked closer in age to Harry, maybe a little older. He was blonde but wore a cap on his head and a silver chain around his neck. 

After Harry had finished smoking with his friends, he said his goodbyes and led Y/N upstairs back to her apartment. "What were you smoking? It smelt funny," Y/N asked,"

Harry fell back onto the couch and pulled her down with him. She lay on top of him, the smell of the smoke still lingering on his clothes. "'S just a bit of weed." He confessed.

Y/N gasped, "Weed? Is that legal?" 

Harry looked at her amused, "Not here but it doesn't do much harm to me, been smoking it for ages." He twirled a piece of hair around his finger, "Does that bother you?"

She thought about it but the idea didn't really seem to phase her. As long as he was being safe and was using it in a healthy sort of way, she didn't mind. "N-no, not at all." Harry's smile widened into a grin. He didn't hesitate to kiss her, feeling her soft lips which had recently become his new obsession. They were so soft and red and kissable and made just for him. 

Y/N didn't want him to stop kissing her whenever he did. She loved the feeling of her eyes fluttering shut and all of her senses just filling up with him. Harry pulled away, still cupping her cheek in his hand. Y/N's chest heaved up and down against him as she tried to catch her breath, "Breathe, flower." His heart ached when she looked up at him with swollen red lips, trying to catch her breath. "Lose your breath a little bit huh?"

"A little," She huffed. 

"You're too cute." 

Y/N kissed him again once she had caught enough air again. Harry sat up, pulling on the roots of her hair as her legs wrapped around him so she was straddling him. She whimpered, tugging on the fabric of his t-shirt.

"What do you want baby?" Harry mumbles against her parted lips. 

"Take it off," She whispers, pulling on his shirt. 

Harry does as he's told, pulling his shirt up over his head and revealing his muscular, tattoed torso. Y/N's eyes widened. She'd never seen something so beautiful, he looked as though he was one of those marble statues in a museum. "Eyes on me baby," Harry smiled, pushing her chin up with his finger so her eyes were looking directly into his. "What now?"

"I-I-I don't know," She blushed, losing her confidence now that they were no longer kissing. 

"We don't have to do anything you don't want." He looked at her with a soft gaze.

"I-I don't want to disappoint you." She admits, her insecurities coming to the surface. 

"Couldn't disappoint me baby, ever." She smiles, feeling secure in his words and his hold. Y/N leans forward and rubs her cheek against his chest. Harry's hands go beneath the tank top of her pyjamas, brushing her bare back. "If it helps I've never done this before."

She's shocked but she tries to hide it, "W-what do you mean?"

"Been intimate with someone." 

She smiled. 

She really, really liked him.

. . .

For weeks after, Y/N was obsessed with two things. 

Her flower shop and her tattooed boyfriend next door.

When she wasn't working, she was with Harry, either cooking in his apartment or cuddling together on the couch in her living room. Harry had also developed a new taste for basket weaving, joining in on Y/N's Sunday classes with the elderly ladies in the morning. 

In the short time they had known each other, Y/N had come to learn that Harry wasn't a morning person but he never missed a Sunday class even when he was exhausted from the busy day before at the tattoo shop. He would stumble downstairs with dishevelled hair and sleepy eyes in sweatpants and a hoodie, sitting in his seat between Mildred and Julia as they fussed over him. 

Y/N had also grown a love for kissing Harry at every opportunity. She'd take many five-minute breaks, walking over to the tattoo shop and kissing Harry in the cupboard or visiting him in the alleyway behind the building where they'd make out against the brick wall. Even Harry had an addiction to his girlfriend's very kissable lips, sneaking out of his shop in between appointments to smother her in kisses in the storage cupboard. 

"Hey Marshy little fur ball," Y/N bit back a grin when she heard the door of her apartment open and the familiar gruff voice speak to her little cat. 

She swung her legs over her bed and paused the movie she was watching, running to the front door and leaping into his arms, "Hi flower," Harry murmured, inhaling the scent of her coconut shampoo. 

Y/N nuzzled her face against his jumper and squeezed him tightly, "Hi Harry," She sighed, blissfully.

"Wanted to come see ya, hope tha's okay." He kissed her quickly. 

"Course, I was watching a film in my room." She tugged on his hand and lead him to her bedroom. 

Harry had spent nights in Y/N's room before. Sometimes he would ask her if it was okay if he took a nap in her bed whenever he finished work early because it was much comfier than his. She'd find him curled up under her blankets, hugging one of her stuffed animals to his chest with the hood of his sweatshirt over his head.

Harry removes his sweatshirt, leaving him in only sweatpants, before he crawls into bed and pats the spot beside him. Y/N turns on the movie but knows that neither of them has any plans of watching it. 

With the amount of kissing they had been doing, Y/N hoped she had gotten a lot better. She realised Harry would often make small, quiet noises whenever she did something he liked, like tugging on his hair or sticking her tongue in his mouth. 

It wasn't long before they were making out again on her bed. Her leg hooked around his hip and her hands in his hair as he gripped her waist, every now and then he would squeeze her ass remembering the first time he did it and how much she loved it from the soft moans that left her. 

Y/N thought that kissing Harry was the best thing in the entire world but what she didn't know was that Harry had plenty more up his sleeve. 

His hand slid from her waist and down to her bare thigh - she was only wearing pyjama shorts since her apartment was pretty warm. He squeezed her softly, "Can I feel you baby?" He asked.

Y/N froze, not sure how to react. "I-I-"

Harry cupped her cheek, "I know," He already knew what she was thinking before she even said anything, "We can carry on doing what we're doing if you prefer. It's no rush." 

"N-no," She grabbed his wrist in both her hands. Y/N was a virgin but she wasn't afraid... Just inexperienced and that made her a little wary. But with Harry, she knew she wanted to allow that part of herself to him. Maybe not the whole thing but a little something. 

"Y-you can feel me... I-if you like." She said, awkwardly. 

Harry chuckles, "What about if you like, hmm?" His fingertip traced circles on her thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps. 

"I-I would l-like that p-please." She whispered.

Harry grinned, "Only because you're so polite sweet girl."

Harry's arm slides between her legs and hooks his fingers around her pyjamas bottoms to pull them down her legs. Y/N inwardly praised herself for shaving the night before yet she was pretty sure Harry wouldn't mind either way. Harry tuts when he sees her underwear, "Did m' little flower get all wet from kissing on daddy?" 

She felt the air leave the room and her body heat at the nickname. It was so dirty and yet she felt herself aching from his words. "Y-yes," She breathes. 

"Yes what baby?" He kisses up her thigh. 

"Yes daddy," She murmurs. 

Harry eyes darken as he looks down between her thighs, "My good, polite girl." He pinches the flesh on her thigh and she feels her chest heave.  Y/N gasps for air when his fingers trace the fabric of her underwear and her heart races even more when he moves her underwear to the side to see a part of herself no one had ever seen before.

"Fuck me," He whispers under his breath. "Prettiest pussy I've ever seen." 

"R-really?" Y/N blushes, her cheeks hot.

"Don't think I've ever seen something so pretty." 

"T-thank you, daddy." She whispers the last part but it doesn't stop the bulge from growing in Harry's sweatpants. 

"Have you always been this needy when we kiss baby?" Harry murmured in her ear as his fingers part her pussy. He tries to stop himself from groaning at the slick wetness that coats his fingers.

Y/N gasps at the new feeling but is immediately overcome by pleasure as Harry begins to move his finger back up to her clit, "Harry," She whimpers. 

Harry's quick to pull his hand away, "Nuh uh baby, that's not my name."

Y/N's head was all dizzy but she managed to reply, "Daddy, please," She whines.

"Barely even touched you and you're already whining," He tuts before rubbing his thumb over her clit and making small, slow circles. Y/N whimpers at the new sensation of intense pleasure. "Does that feel good flower?" He asks, nipping her ear as he murmurs against it. 

"S-so good- so good daddy, so, so good." She babbles as he continues to tease her clit with his thumb. 

"Who'd have thought I had such a naughty girl hmm?" She arches into his touch as he moves his finger in a certain way. She wonders how she managed to go on for so long without feeling something so blissfully delightful. 

"Put your hand here baby," Harry instructs, reaching for her hand that wasn't currently scrunching the duvet, and placing it flat over the top of his, "Let me show you how to touch yourself. Watch daddy," Y/N's eyes look down to see his gold ring-clad fingers drenched in her wetness, his tattooed hand moving in circles as her rubs her clit. "This is how I want you to touch yourself when you think of me baby and when you're good, I'll make your perfect, little hole feel good too." Y/N gasps and clenches when he brushes a finger against her hole. 

"I-I'm good-Please, I'm good," She mewls and her hand grips his wrist instead. She uses it as leverage to twist and turn into him, the pleasure overwhelmingly good she can't help but hide her face in his neck. 

"You are good," He kisses her forehead, "My good girl." She nods at his praise, eyes shut. 

Harry forces her legs a part and continues to pleasure her in a way she didn't know about until today. She writhes and moans beneath his touch as he whispers dirty things into her ear. "I want you to cum baby, think you can do that?" 

"Mhm," She sighs, already feeling the bubble of pressure in her tummy. "F-feels - feel's s-so-" 

"Feel good m'love?" He coos, "Cum f' me. Cum f' daddy, wanna see you soak my hand." 

At his words, Y/N whimpers as she becomes increasingly sensitive the more he circles her clit. Harry feels as though he's about to explode as he watches her cheeks flush pink and she grinds her pussy against his hand as she rides out her orgasm. "That's it my little flower, so good." He praises her, feeling her shudder as she finishes coming down from her high.

She's panting heavily as Harry slides her panties back into place. "You okay?" Harry checks, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Y/N nods and instantly feels embarrassed, hiding herself in the crook of his neck. Harry chuckles, "That was the hottest thing I've ever seen."

"You're lying," Y/N says, her voice muffled against him.

"Never gonna lie to you flower, never." He promises. 

Y/N removes herself from her hiding place and looks up at him. Harry's heart bursts in his chest when she sees her sleepy, blissful gaze. He wonders where this girl has been all his life and how he managed to go this long without her. He was pretty sure he was falling in love with her but that was a conversation for another day.

"W-what about you?" Y/N looks down and sees the very noticeable bulge in his trousers. 

Harry shakes his head, "Not today," He smiles, "We have plenty of time to experiment some more but think you've had enough experimenting for one night."

"Me too," Y/N curls into his side, not bothering to put her pyjama bottoms back on. "Having sex is exhausting." 

"We didn't even have sex, silly girl." Harry laughs.

"Felt like it," She mumbles against him.

"I'm that good huh?" He grins, cheekily, "Just you wait baby,"

"The best," She slurs, yawning, "M so tired." 

"Yeah? You sleepy baby?" He kisses her forehead. "Get some sleep m'love," He wraps an arm around her and tucks her into his chest. 

"I like you very much Harry," She whispers, sleepily. 

"I like you very much too." Harry replies, holding her close.

psa don't let strangers into your room... actually don't let anyone into your room

[aliidarling]

Ok so reader only know ghostface without the mask and one day catches him take off his mask during a kill and she says that’s hot and he finds out she has a mask kink and maybe like predator prey with squirting ?

He’s lucky she’s into bad boys. Fluff to nsfw

make you mine

ETHAN LANDRY x fem!reader

nsfw content — pls scroll if uncomfortable!

summary: you have a study date with your crush and walk in on him wearing his silly ghostface robe

warnings: smut, p in v, blood, oral, light choking, creampie, sweet and mean ethan kinda, mask kink, ethan is our cute psycho bae

i hope you like it :) i’m sorry i didn’t really know how to include predator prey

nsfw content below !!

it had been a few months since you met ethan. he was all you’ve ever wanted— sweet, caring, smart, and dorky. you were into all the same things, from star wars down to gaming. the only thing that wasn’t identical between the two of you were your study habits.

you wouldn’t say you were a troubled student, no, you were struggling student. you needed help, and who’s better to help you then your hot crush who happens to be a straight A+ student?

you had talked it over with him the other day and you both agreed you’d come down to his dorm tonight for a study date— session. he said chad was with tara tonight so it would be just the two of you, ridding you of chads loud yelling. chad was nice, you loved him, but he could get quite a bit annoying when it comes to his gaming or sports shows.

so here you stood, knocking on ethan’s dorm door. silence is all that answered you. you were quite annoyed, you had been standing here for a few minutes now, staring at the wood in your face and waiting for it to open. but thus, no answer. worst part? you could hear the sound of someone walking around and moving things inside. ethan was home. was he ignoring you?

“ethan?” you call out, now getting a little worried. there had been a killer on the loose recently, going by the name ghostface. his shrieking mouth and wide black eyes lingered in your head, for good and bad reasons you didn’t wanna discuss. a voice whispered in your ear, telling you ethan was in trouble inside.

your hand found its way on the handle and slowly turned it, blinking in surprise when it opens with a small creak. it wasn’t like ethan or chad to leave their door ever unlocked. odd.

you step in and immediately freeze at the sight of blood trails on the ground, splattered over the floor and leading to ethan’s room. you gulp nervously and quickly lock the door behind you, worriedly rushing to his kitchen to grab a knife before slowly walking towards his bedroom.

you peeked your head in, looking around the dark young adult room. he had a large bed in the corner of the room, with dozens of pillows and a plaid navy blue blanket, his clothes hanging on the edges. his desk was next to his bed, also working as his nightstand, with his gaming set up on the top. you loved his gaming set up, it was always fun to play on it or watch him play himself.

but it wasn’t how messy his room was that had you gaping in shock— no, it was the sight of him standing in the middle of the room with his back to you, black robe stained with bloody smears on his body, and a familiar mask in his hands. he was looking around the room in a rush, trying to change out of it quickly before you came, you assumed.

“ethan?” you choked out, your voice pathetically small.

he jumps at the sound of your voice, immediately turning to face you. his eyes are wide, brown curls messy and his plump lips parted in surprise. horror takes over his expression as he gawks at you, holding the mask silently for a moment before shoving it behind his mask.

“what are you doing here?” he coughs awkwardly.

you gaze at him, blinking dumbly.

“we.. had.. a study da— session.”

“..right.” he gulps hard. he didnt forget, of course he didn’t. he had been freaking out all week about having the perfect night with you. he was gonna play a movie and study with you and play some games— not whatever the hell this is.

“..you’re.. the ghostface.” you mumble and step forward, shutting the door behind you. he blinks in surprise at your easiness and how you weren’t on your knees crying. you were calm. collected. it freaked him out a little.

“you’re not screaming and crying.” he comments, dark eyes staring you down as you finally step face to face with him. a small smile tugs at your lips, hands going to gently pull the mask from his hands to look over the white plastic now stained red.

“i’m just glad you’re okay,” you mumble, rubbing the blood smudge, “i saw the blood trail and assumed the worst.” you smile up at him. he shudders.

this was weird. you weren’t scared at all. no, you were giving him bedroom eyes and showing your pretty little smile at him. he wants to scoop you up already.

“you do realize i’m the ghostface, right?” he scoffs, one hand going to gently take your chin. his robe and bloody appearance gives him more confidence, letting him take ahold of your face to pull him closer. “the same dude who’s been trying to kill all our friends.”

he doesn’t miss the way your cheeks burn up at his touch. a small grin appears on his face. he couldn’t of fallen in love with a more perfect woman.

“as long as you don’t hurt me.” you smile sheepishly and look him up and down, scanning his attire more clearly now that you’re up close. it’s slightly sparkly, the fabric glistening from his led lights.

“i would never hurt you.” he coo’s, gently rubbing his thumb against your porcelain skin. his gloves are thick but you can still feel his warmth against your skin, rubbing a small amount of blood onto your skin. he smiles at the contrast of your cute face with the blood stain.

your lips part by themselves as you look up at him, lashes batting. he takes one good look at your face and immediately knows what you want. one hand wraps around your small waist and the other tangles itself in your hair, pulling you against his lips with a small moan.

the kiss is gentle and slow, soft pants leaving the two of you between each kiss. your skin felt milky in his hands. you had imagined the two of you kissing many times— during your lunch break and when you had movie nights with the whole friend group, but you never imagined it like this.

with blood all over him, the ghostface mask in your hand and his rough hands gently scooping you up into his arms. his muscles have never been more prominent, making you cling tighter and let out a small moan into his lips. he groans at your soft little noise, pulling you closer and starting to walk you towards his bed.

with a soft thud your back hits the mattress, blinking up at him with a flushed expression and a smile creeping onto your lips. he begins to put his mask off to the side before you quickly catch his wrist, “wait, don’t.” you say. he frowns down at you in surprise, brow raising up.

“don’t what?” he hums in amusement.

“keep.. it.. on.” you mutter hesitantly.

oh, you were gonna be the death of him for sure. your cute little smile and big eyes blinking up at him innocently, as if you didn’t just ask him to fuck you in his mask. he can’t help but immediately smash his lips back onto yours, taking advantage of the last few seconds he’ll be able to kiss you.

his hands are gentle with you but in a hurry as he tugs down your clothes, pulling down your bottoms and yanking your top off you. he’s trying be careful— but he can’t wait any longer for your sweet taste.

“i’m gonna use my mouth on you and then i’ll put the mask on, okay?” he whispers, glancing at you with pleading brown eyes. you nod meekly and part your thighs, watching as he lowers his head between them and presses a soft kiss to your folds. you let out a soft exhale at that, your hands going to tangle themselves in his soft hair. you make sure you don’t accidentally pull his hair too hard.

his lips aren’t very experienced when it comes to pleasing women but he tries his best, sucking at your clit while his gloved fingers prod at your hole, gently sliding in a finger and curling it up into your g-spot. the noise you make motivates him further, his sucking increasing in its pressure as he wiggles his finger.

“please, just like that-“ you gasp, your legs finding their way over his shoulders. your feet kick lightly against his muscular back, eyes fluttered shut in bliss and mouth agape with noises falling out like a broken record.

he hums, muffled by your pussy. the vibration makes you shiver and clench down on his fingers. he notices and decides to add in his second finger, giving your clit a few little nibbles to distract you from the stretch. you whine lewdly and he chuckles lightly.

a few more minutes are spent of him slowly building you up until you fall over the edge, moaning happily as he drives his thick fingers deeper and deeper until you cum on his fingers, some of it getting on his chin. his lower face glows with your essence, parting after a moment with a slow breath.

“so perfect for me.” his lips perk up, hands going to tug at your waist, pulling you further down the bed until your right under him. he kneels over you, grabbing his mask and pulling it back on. your reaction is immediate, cheeks flushing at the sight of the tall masked man, bloody mask and robe looming over your naked form.

“never thought you’d be into this, doll.” he muses, feeling a switch in his personality with the confidence the mask gives him. his hands are quick to pull his robe aside, pulling his hard cock out from his sweatpants. it slaps against his abdomen with a soft squelch, the pre cum glistening with his tip throbbing red.

“gonna be a good girl and take this cock?” he asks gently, crawling over you.

“yes ghostface..” you giddily smile, grinning up at him as he presses your thighs to your chest and giving him access to your core. he smiles under his mask in approval, gently rubbing circles on your thighs, before pressing his head against your opening. he watches your face as he slowly inches it in, going deeper and deeper into your gummy walls, splitting you apart in his girth.

“fuck, feels s’good ethan.” you say in an almost whiny tone, gawking at the stretch and how good it feels to have your best friend finally dick you down the way you’ve been imagining for months. you’re rendered speechless as he impales you slowly and gently, relishing in how you moan so pretty.

“it’s ghostface to you, baby.” he corrected with a cocky tone. once the words leave his mouth, he delivers a harsh thrust into you, making you bite down and squeak. the stretch is barely there anymore— your wetness letting him easily make his home inside you.

“s-sorry, sorry, please ghostface—“ you quickly replied, chest heaving up and down as he starts a pace. your mouth falls open as his fat head slams against your cervix, hands holding your thighs tightly down with an almost bruising grip. when you imagined finally having sex with him, you pictured gentle and slow love making, not this.

his shrieking expression stared down at you emotionlessly, the blood reminding you he had just murdered someone before pushing his cock inside you. their blood was all over the room, staining the floor and now your porcelain skin. and for some odd reason, your pussy clamped down on him harder at that.

“you’re— so— so damn, tight—“ he hisses lowly, a guttural groan coming from him. he harshly slams inside you, one of his hands going to wrap around your throat and squeeze. the choking catches you off guard, blinking up at him in distraught before whimpering pathetically.

he snickers at that. “such a god damn whore,” he laughs, squeezing your airway gently while thrusting harder and harder into your pussy. “moaning like a slut while the blood of an innocent person gets all over them.” he huffs.

he pulls himself down, pressing his chest against your thighs. “my slut, right?” he coos in an almost sweet tone, mocking you no doubt. you nod with a muffled cry, feeling your orgasm near once again. he could feel himself growing close to his climax as well, his cock throbbing intensely inside you.

“fuck— fuck, gonna cum? gonna cum for me?” he gives your thigh a little swat before pressing his rough fingers against your clit, pinching and rubbing it harshly as you squeal. he doesn’t let up on his pace at all, rather taking your choked up noises as more reason to go harder.

your nod is eager and messy, big watery eyes gazing up at his mask. your pussy was too tight and he could feel himself cumming already, his thrusts slowing down until he gives you one last little jerk of his hips. a soft sigh leaves him as your walls spasm around him tightly. his eyes widen in shock as you squirt all over his cock and robe, a gasp leaving the two of you.

it’s silence for a moment before he starts snickering, staring down at the mess you made of his robe. your cheeks turn red and you weakly sit up, blinking at him with dazed eyes and swollen lips. he could see the light mark his hand made around your neck, making him almost harden again.

“s-shut up, i didn’t know i could do that!” you hiss defensively, blushing and squeezing your thighs shut. he laughs and shakes his head, pulling his mask off and shaking his curls free.

“dont worry about it baby, just lay back. lemme clean you up and then maybe we can do that studying.” he snorts. you roll your eyes and reluctantly lay back down, staring at him.

“are you, uh, actually ghostface?” your small question breaks the silence as he fixes you up. he scowls down at you.

“yeah, dumbass.”

[jobean12-blog]

Rescue Ride

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 1,043

Summary: When you get stranded with your broken down car someone unexpected comes to your rescue.

Author's Note: Just because! Honestly, I'd go anywhere with him haha Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 😘

Warnings: It's fluffy and cute and sweet (other than the annoying car trouble haha)

The air grows cooler as night starts to fall. There’s an eerie silence that envelopes the quiet road. Your car, having made strange noises for the past few miles, begins to smoke, and finally gives up and sputters to a stop.

You steer it to the side of the road, your heart racing as the sky continues to deepen into a dark canvas. You scan the area, seeing nothing but the far-off mile markers and the long shadows they cast against the encroaching darkness.

Suddenly, the roar of a motorcycle engine pierces the stillness, growing louder with each passing second. Your stomach flips and your palms start to sweat.

You’re all alone out here and the chances of another car passing by any time soon are slim. You search your vehicle for something to defend yourself with…just in case.

Just over the horizon you can see the bike speeding closer. The rider flies by and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Now what? That may have been the only help you were going to get. If it was help at all.

You grab your phone and scroll through your contacts. Since moving here, you had only made a couple of friends and you really didn’t want to ask either of them to come out and rescue you in goodness knows where.

As you continue to contemplate your fate you miss the low rumble of the engine and when you look up to see the motorcycle slowing to a stop a few feet in front of your car you nearly jump out of the seat.

He’s tall, one long leg lifting easily over the seat until both booted feet are planted firmly on the ground.

Your eyes continue to travel upward.

His tight jeans accentuate the shape of his muscular calves and the thickness of his thighs. A worn leather jacket fits snugly across his broad shoulders and his large hands are free of gloves.

As he moves toward you it’s hard to make out more than this large frame, the setting sun highlighting only his silhouette. However, when he reaches your car window and leans down with a smile, you’re struck speechless.

Long and dark strands of hair frame his face and his sparkling blue eyes crinkle at the corners. His sharp jaw is covered with dark stubble with patches of gray peppered throughout and surrounding a pair of very kissable lips.

“You ok doll?” he asks.

When you don’t answer he leans back to give you more space. “I’m sorry if I frightened you.”

You shake your head and open your mouth, still staring.

He smiles again.

“It’s ok. I’m ok,” you breathe out.

“Is your car, ok?” he asks.

“My car?”

He gently taps your car above the window.

“OH! Um, well no. I think it’s dead.”

Finally pulling his gaze from you he looks at the small puffs of smoke coming from the hood.

“Want me to take a look?”

“Really?” you ask. “You don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” he says as he walks around to the front.

You open your door and get out, standing to the side to watch.

He opens the hood and peers inside, blowing smoke away from his face.

After only a few moments of assessment he says, “looks like you’ve got an antifreeze leak coming from one of your hose clamps.”

“Is that what it is?” you muse, trying to sound like you know what’s going on.

“I can fix it enough for you to get to the nearest station.”

You wave your hand dismissively. “I can’t have you do that! I’ll just call someone.”

He starts walking to his bike.

“And then you’ll have to pay towing fees. Not necessary doll. Lemme help you out.”

He opens the saddle bag and removes the toolbox. As he does so you notice a small lump in his jacket and when it starts to move you let out a squeak of surprise.

“Oh right,” he chuckles.

He slowly and carefully unzips the leather and reveals a small white ball of fluff.

“This is Alpine,” he explains as the cat uncurls itself against his chest.

Your eyes widen. “Oh my gosh! He’s SO CUTE!”

“Here,” he says. “You can hold him while I check out your car.”

He picks the cat up with one hand and holds him out for you to take. You gently grab him and cuddle him to your chest, cooing softly and scratching his head.

“He’s such a sweetie!”

“I found him about a month ago. Abandoned at a truck stop.”

The shock and disgust are evident in your expression and Bucky agrees with, “I know. Unbelievable right? Thankfully, he loves rides on the bike!”

He gives Alpine a soft pat and then gestures toward your car with his chin.

“Come on,” he says, “let’s take a look.”

You follow, standing closer to get a better look at him and you can see he’s even more gorgeous than you thought.

“I’m Bucky, by the way.”

After you introduce yourself, you watch him bend over the hood and grab a bandana from his back pocket.

He uses a wrench to loosen a steaming clamp and then grabs the hose with the bandana.

“It can get pretty hot,” he explains.

When he pulls the hose free you can see the leak and watch with relief as he easily contains it with a quick fix.

“This will hold long enough for you to get it somewhere and get it fixed.”

“I can’t thank you enough Bucky.”

He drops the wrench back in his toolbox and stuffs the bandana back into his pocket, all the while studying your face with soft eyes.

“Tell ya what doll face,” he starts. “I’ll follow you to the nearest repair shop to make sure you get there safely and then while you wait for your car to get fixed I'll take you out for a bite to eat.”

“On your bike?”

“Yeah,” he answers with a smirk. “Ever ridden before?”

You shake your head no.

His lopsided grin grows, and he leans in a little closer.

“Lookin’ forward to being your first, doll.”

@randomfandompenguin @lizette50 @blackwidownat2814 @goldylions @kmc1989 @hiddles-rose

[thelostconsultant]

Down Bad

pairing: Lando Norris x reader, but the point of the story is that Max is madly in love - which is one-sided

summary: Lando starts dating a woman he loves more than anything, but when Max gets to know you, he has to realize that he needs you like air.

warnings: stupid behavior, intoxication. Oh, and it's unedited.

part two

It was quite ridiculous how Lando’s shoulder began to hurt after a bad move he made while golfing. Max knew an injury was in the cards with every sport, but this? This involuntarily made him laugh when his friend wasn’t around. Not because he was rude, he just always imagined golf to be relatively safe. Hitting a ball that was still on the ground didn’t sound nearly as dangerous as driving an F1 car. 

Then Lando went to see a physiotherapist specialized in helping athletes to fix the problem, and the Dutch had to listen to endless stories about how much you helped him, how beautiful you were, how kind you were with every single person who came for your help, and how amazing your sense of humor was. After three months it became quite tiring, but he never complained. This little crush made Lando happy, and as long as he felt that way, he was willing to listen.

He never told him your full name, and he didn’t show any photos, as if you were his precious little secret, someone who he decided to shelter from this part of his life. It became obvious that this was the case when therapy was over and he asked you out on a date. You hesitated, telling him that his life was too much for you, you didn’t want to be someone the media and fans talked about, so he promised to make sure you could stay away from the circus. 

It was only four months into your relationship, just at the beginning of the summer break, that Max got to meet you in person. Lando jumped in with you by his side, saying you were having lunch nearby and he had to ask him something that couldn’t wait. This is when the trouble began, the moment you flashed that friendly smile at him as you shook his hand. His eyes always found their way back to you during the conversation, watching you even when it was your boyfriend talking. 

Because you were naturally beautiful. You looked nothing like those girls in the paddock with their heavy makeup and designer clothes, you looked perfectly normal and down-to-earth. Your voice was like music to his ears, just like a siren’s song that made him want to get on his knees in front of you to confess his undying love for you. How could you have such a strong effect on him? Was it because he had already known so much about you thanks to Lando’s stories? Or was it something else? Was it love at first sight?

Things only got worse with time. Lando began to ease you into events that involved his friends from the paddock, so Max saw you on a regular basis during the break. And every single time he found himself back home drunk and alone, lying on his bed with his hand inside his jeans as he touched himself at the thought of you, his moans muffled by the pillow he bit on. He imagined you coming home with him, showing him how much you loved him, wanted him. And every single time he was cleaning up his mess, he felt ashamed for thinking about his friend’s girlfriend like this. 

One day he was over at Lando’s place, sitting in front of his friend’s computer to log into one of his accounts when you walked in with two glasses of lemonade and handed one to each of them. Max only flashed a thankful smile at you before turning back to the screen, hoping this would avert his thoughts for a while. But just as he began to type something, he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder and he smelled your sweet perfume, which was followed by a short laugh next to his ear. When he turned his head to look at you, his breath caught in his throat. 

“Is that really how you type?” you asked with a teasing smile. When he nodded with a confused look on his face and asked you why, you just straightened up and shrugged. “My fifty-six year old aunt types faster than this, and she sees a keyboard like twice a month.”

He had no idea how to react. He knew it was a joke, and he knew you didn’t mean to offend him, but deep down he only wanted to hear you compliment him, he needed to know if you thought he did something right. He wanted to impress you, he wanted you to be proud of him. But then Lando began to chuckle as he walked closer and wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you against his body. 

“You should give him lessons, baby,” he suggested as he placed a soft kiss on your cheek. Then he turned back to Max. “She’s crazy fast when it comes to typing. I have absolutely no idea how she does it, but it’s amazing.”

Max took a deep breath and forced a smile on his face. He wanted to say something, maybe crack a joke, but nothing came to his mind. Lando was in love with you, it was painfully obvious, and you seemed equally enamored with him. How could he compete with that? So he quickly finished what he was doing, logged out from everywhere, then said goodbye and went home to figure out what to do now. 

His home race was just around the corner, he had to get a grip on himself again, because you sure as hell would show up in the paddock one day, and what then? Maybe you were like a poison, he just needed small doses to get used to you and become immune in the end. You loved Lando, and Lando loved you. He wasn’t a part of the equation, he had to understand this. 

Yes, he was an idiot. He was self-aware enough to know what he was about to do was reckless and stupid, but maybe this small dose theory wasn’t as bad as it first seemed. This is why he was now standing in the waiting room of the clinic where you worked, waiting for his appointment with you. He was okay, nothing hurt, but for the sake of a conversation and some alone time with you, he was willing to say his hand caused him pain. Just a little white lie, nothing serious. 

He instinctively locked his phone and looked up when he heard a familiar sound, your melodic laughter that came from a nearby hallway. And within seconds you appeared, beautiful like a dream, and he jumped up to greet you even though you hadn’t noticed him yet. He was too excited to control himself, which is why the moment your previous patient left, he walked up to you with a stupid smile on his face. 

“Max, hi,” you said happily before giving him a hug. 

It took all of his willpower not to wrap his arms around you and rest his chin on top of your head as he held you close, feeling the warmth that radiated from your body. Instead he politely squeezed your shoulder quickly before stepping away to give you some space. “Thank you for finding the time for me, I guess you have a tight schedule,” he said with a sheepish smile. 

But you just waved your hand to tell him it was okay, then motioned towards the hallway you came from. “Come on, let’s see that hand,” you said as you began to walk. 

Max followed you like a shadow, standing awkwardly in your examination room as he waited for your instructions. This was your domain, he was just a guest, and he was more than happy to follow your orders. At this point you could have asked him to do anything, even to show you his bank card details, and he would have done it without hesitation. You pointed at a chair next to your desk, and once you both sat down, you rolled over to him, one of your knees between his legs to be closer to him. 

As you took a look at his right hand that was injured as far as you knew, he had to focus on his breathing. You chose a different perfume for today, something that was a nice floral scent that invaded his brain, making it all he could think about. When your pretty eyes finally turned to him, he tilted his head to the side and watched you with an intrigued look. “So, what should we do about this?” he asked you. 

Leaning back, you wanted to push yourself away from him, but he didn’t let go of your hand and just yanked you back gently. You seemed surprised at first, but then you nodded and gulped. “Well, I couldn’t feel anything irregular, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was related to simulators and video games,” you said with a teasing smile. “I’ve heard esport athletes complaining about the same kind of pain in their hands, so I guess this is what we’re dealing with. I’ll show you a few exercises you can do at home, but we can also find a slot in the evening that’s okay for you, and I can jump in to help. As you said, my schedule here is pretty tight, and you’re Lando’s friend, so the least I can do is be flexible about the when and where.”

Fuck, if you only knew what was going on in his mind at this very moment. Maybe it would scare you away, because he couldn’t help thinking about having you at his home alone, and how he wanted that ‘flexible about the when and where’ part to be about clandestine meetings with you. He wanted to be your dark secret, your partner in crime in an affair that you both had to hide from Lando, but right now you weren’t ready for it. Your first thought was Lando, not him. You were doing this for your boyfriend, because you valued him enough to know he cared about his friends. 

It was killing him. Waiting for you as he paced the living room as a caged predator, he couldn’t help but envy his cats who were minding their business somewhere in the apartment. They didn’t have to deal with the pain of being desperately in love with their friend’s girlfriend, the only person who was supposed to be off-limits. When you finally arrived, he had to force a smile on his face, acting like everything was okay, like he wasn’t on the verge of a nervous breakdown. 

Things went well for a while, but then as you sat on the couch, drinking a glass of wine that you accepted as a token of gratitude, Max couldn’t keep his stupid mouth shut. “Lando is lucky to have you. I wish I could find a girl who was as nice, and caring, and funny, and intelligent, and sweet as you are,” he said out of nowhere. 

You slowly pulled the glass away from your lips and put it on the coffee table. “Where did this come from?” you asked, your chest heaving from your sped up breathing. 

He was cursing himself in his head, knowing full well you were seconds away from running out of his home. How could he be this stupid? But what was the point of going on with his life as if he didn’t have feelings for you? He could just as well come clean about it, finally getting it off his chest so he would know if he was crazy for thinking you could be interested. And if you decide to go no contact with him… Well, at least he would know he never had a chance. 

“You and Lando are good together, you make him happy. But,” he began, stopping for a moment to get his thoughts in order. “So I just… Ever since I met you, ever since I got to know you better, I can’t help but wonder what if you loved me instead. You are one of the most amazing women I’ve ever met, I can’t even imagine living my life without you. If you gave me a chance, just one chance to prove how good we could be together–”

You raised a hand to stop him. “Max, just don’t. Don’t fantasize about something you can never have. Don’t torture yourself, please,” you asked him with a strange smile as you put a hand on his arm. But how could he stop? He was way past the point of no return. Before he could speak up again, though, you started talking. “You’re a great guy, you’ll find someone who makes you happy. It’s just… not me.”

“Why can’t you love me? He doesn’t have to know, I can keep a secret, I promise,” he said, his voice now pathetically desperate. But he couldn’t stop himself, even if he was making a fool of himself. 

Without answering, you nodded a few times and gulped, then leaned over to press a soft kiss on his cheek before standing up and taking a few steps towards the door. Max was frozen in his seat, still under the effect of that kiss, but he truly felt like he was stabbed with a dagger when you said, “This conversation never happened. I don’t want Lando to find out about your feelings.” 

And with that, you simply walked out of his apartment, leaving him behind with the feeling of defeat and shame, and the flurry of thoughts that didn’t let him sleep that night. The next few days weren’t any better, really. He spent them locked inside his apartment, only leaving it for half an hour to pick up what he ordered for lunch, but other than that, he was on his own. No phone calls, no streams, nothing. 

But one night he hit rock bottom and began to drink, and he drank a lot, and when he was almost crying from the pain he felt in his heart, he had the not-so-bright idea to take some painkillers that would surely help with that. He wasn’t in the right state of mind to think, but he was good enough to type in a series of messages to you. Messages that were full of mistakes, and sentences that didn’t always make sense, and his thoughts that all revolved around you. When you asked him if he was drunk, he replied, ‘drunk and high,’ because those pain meds were the good stuff from a previous injury. 

Though he didn’t expect anything, half an hour later there was a knock on his door, and when he saw it was you, he quickly wrapped his arms around your body. “You came. You love me,” he mumbled with his face buried into the crook of your neck. 

With a groan, you pushed him inside and closed the door behind you. “What did you take?” you asked him with your arms folded. 

“Are you mad at me?” he slurred, but when he saw your pointed look, he let out a long sigh. “Painkillers. Really good painkillers.”

“How much?” 

This made him think, but then he began to count on his fingers and held up a hand. “Five. I think.”

You shook your head as you grabbed his arm and began to drag him towards the bathroom. “You need to throw them up, so go ahead, smartass,” you ordered him. 

Max tried to give you the puppy eyes, hoping you weren’t serious, but then you threatened him that you would shove your finger down his throat if he didn’t do it himself, so he groaned and got to making himself vomit. It was disgusting, the taste in his mouth was enough to make him want to throw up again, but he chose to brush his teeth instead. You stood there in the door with your arms folded over your chest, watching him with a disapproving look on your face. 

After you successfully convinced him to stay in bed for the rest of the night, you brought him lots of water and made him drink some. If you were simply worried about him, he would have been really happy, because that would mean you cared about him, but in reality you were both worried and incredibly mad, which wasn’t a good combination. So he crawled over to you on the bed and lied down so his head would be on your lap. 

“Sorry, schatje,” he mumbled as he looked at you, waiting for the room to finally stop spinning. 

Your eyes watched him closely, full of anger and disappointment, but then he felt your hand in his hair and it made him smile like a satisfied cat. “You’re such a moron, Max,” you groaned. 

“I love you so much that it makes me stupid,” he admitted. 

“No doubt.”

He watched you in silence for a while, enjoying the way your fingertips massaged his scalp, and somewhere along the way he fell asleep. Later in the night he woke up, only to see you were still there with him, curled up at the end of the bed with your phone next to your head. He moved closer to you, this time choosing to be the one who ran his fingers through your hair, letting his thumb brush over your cheek as he placed a clumsy kiss on your temple.

You stirred in your sleep, but didn’t wake up, for which he was grateful. All he wanted was some time with you when you couldn’t tell him that you didn’t love him, when you couldn’t push him away, and when he could honestly tell you how he felt about you. 

Little did he know it was only your phone’s screen that went dark, the caller on the other end of the line you had been talking to before dozing off was still there, listening to every word.

[mochinomnoms]

PTM Question: If Yuu were actually trying to make Jade short circuit, what would they do or say?

Alternatively, PTM Yuu gets nostalgic about an old S/O from their world and a certain eel happens to overhear. Is the result an angry eel, a sulking eel, or an opportunistic one?

Being able to read minds makes these sorts of things much easier, especially for someone as secretive as Jade. Luckily for Yuu, a lot fo Jade's fantasies are relatively easy to feed into, though the more explicit ones are not viable for them most of the time.

Jade's biggest thing is being able to take care of Yuu. I feel that I've stated it so often that it's becoming repetitive, but Jade does really like being depended on! And Yuu can very easily feed into this by giving Jade a sweet tone and asking, “Jade? I'm having trouble, can you pleeease help me? You're always super good at everything!”

It's the pretty sound of their voice and the way they almost give him puppy eyes that basically turn him into this:

I'm positive that someone even edit an image of him with these quote, and it's very correct because Yuu could very much just bat their eyes and get whatever they want from him! He lives to help and serve, just like the Sea Witch! And he just happens to like doing it most with Yuu!

However, if they want to specifically make him short circuit...

“Jade?” Said young man looked up, blinking in surprise at how close you were. Not that he was complaining.

“Yes?”

You shifted in your seat, leaning closer and pushing your notebook towards him.

“Can you explain this part to me? I'm having trouble understanding it, and my potion is coming out wrong.”

Jade's breath ever so slightly hitched, before clearing his throat and moving in to look at your notes. He could smell the citrusy body wash you used.

“Let me see...what flowers are you using? Dandelions and often be confused for cat's ear.”

You leaned over to grab at your materials, though Jade swears he saw you arching your back.

No, they wouldn't, no where other than my imagination...

Jade froze as he felt you place a hand on his arm, displaying a bundle of yellow flowers to him with an innocent expression.

“These, I found them outside Ramshackle since Ruggie always says he picks them for salads, are they not it?”

Jade shook his head, brushing over your hand to bring the flowers closer to him to inspect.

“Hmm, the stems are longer and the petals look hairier, see?” He pointed at a few spots on the flower.

“Oh, damn. I was hoping I wouldn't have to buy supplies...”

Jade chuckled before contemplating if he should offer his own.

Ah, I'm more than happy to help you, my pearl! No need to be cautious, I won't hold it against you, perhaps a kiss in exchange for the flowers, fuhuh~

In the back of his mind, he knew that you knew from experience it was better to struggle a bit than to owe someone from Octavinelle. In the back of his mind, he knew you wouldn't ask him for any sort of favors. You were scared of him, understandable, he admits—

“Do you think I could use some of yours? Do you have any to spare?”

Jade paused, blanking for a moment, before looked down at you. You were awfully cute, looking at him with a pout, and you tapped your fingers together.

“Please Jade? Pleeeease?”

Swallowing a lump in his throat and attempting to fight off the blush he knew was coming on, Jade simply nodded and reached under the table for his bag of materials. As he carefully dug through it, he failed to notice you shuffling closer.

“Here,” Jade reached up with three dandelions carefully wrapped in a cloth in his hand. He felt a spark run up his arm as you wrapped your hand around his, no doubt reaching for the flowers. “I have a few extra you can—”

The moment he turned his head, he failed to realize that you'd been leaning down and had your lips purse to press a kiss against his cheek. Instead, you'd brushed against the corner of his mouth, causing you to gasp and bolt back, Jade freezing.

“Sorry! Sorry, sorry, sorry! I was—your cheek! And then you turned—I wanted to thank—GAH!”

You held the dandelions to your chest, rushing back to your desk, muttering to yourself. Jade thinks he heard you chastising yourself for not paying attention, but really he couldn't process much, still frozen with his hand hovering in place.

Kiss. That was a kiss. He slowly stood back up, turning to his desk and tidying it up.

Kiss. On my lips. Kiss. They practically kissed my lips.

Like a robot programmed to a schedule, Jade spent most of his day quieter than usual. He went to class, to his shift at the lounge, all without saying anything. Just repeating the scene in his mind.

Floyd was even getting worried at how quiet Jade was, poking and prodding at him for a reaction. His twin followed him into his room, still pushing at Jade to say something.

“Come on Jade! What happened? You're never this quiet unless something happened! Did something happen? Did Mama call about Nana? Did you lose a mushroom or something? Jade! You can't just—”

Jade let himself fall onto his bed, face first, burying himself into the soft pillow and covers.

“Jade?” He felt his bed creak as Floyd carefully crawled up and around him. His voice was much closer now as Floyd leaned down. “You okay?”

Floyd could barely hear Jade as he spoke into the pillow, voice muffled. Jade even started clenching his sheets and kicking his feet. Tilting his head and leaning his ear close to his head, Floyd listened.

“…Oh you fucking sap!” Floyd smacked the back of Jade's head, huffing as Jade finally turned his head and smiled up at him.

“You know I hate when you get quiet! All that over some accidental kiss, dumbass! I thought you broke!”

Jade sighed in bliss, ignoring Floyd's smacks on his side and back.

“I just wish I took advantage of it, but I just froze. How unfortunate...”

[jenscx]

GIRLS / GIRLS / BOYS — kim minjeong x f!reader

kim minjeong’s your best friend. you love her, obviously. but when did loving her become being in love with her?

TAGS — fluff, angst, best friends to lovers, highschool au, popular!minjeong, insecure reader, unrequited love, pining, slight sunghoon x reader, bisexual!minjeong, mentions of alcohol, cursing

WORDCOUNT — 6.4k

you had a type; delicate and gorgeous girls that definitely caused trouble, contrasting their looks. your ideal type comes in the form of kim minjeong, a girl that fits both the looks and personality. she was a cold beauty, one that you fawn over. her aloof and indifferent remarks in class, no doubt was the tipping point for you.

if she was a spider, you were a fly, one that gladly flew into her web of lies.

kim minjeong was an enigma— somehow keeping up her appearance as this visually appalling girl who would do no wrong, despite her actions.

“y/nnie,” minjeong’s enthralling voice whispers in your ear, “do you need help with that?”

that refers to the sheet of music you were currently holding. marked notes scribbled all over the paper, words like melody, accompaniment filled into the lines.

“ah… yes please.”

she’s enchanting, you think. minjeong leans over slightly, a small smile on her face. her now newly dyed blonde hair covers a portion of her face, only allowing you to gaze at her eyes. your own eyes trail down, from the crease in her forehead to the tip of her nose. it follows further down, to her glossy red lips, pouting at the sheet music.

“you made a mistake here,” the girl points out. her hazel eyes turn to you, crinkling into a smile, “y/n?”

you’re at a loss of words. normally, you had a lot of things to say, that’s why you joined the school’s debate club. but with minjeong? her beauty leaves you speechless.

“oh, thanks.”

“no problem,” minjeong checks the time, “hey, i gotta go. jiminie asked me to meet her for lunch.” you nod, snapping out of your delusions when minjeong refers to the volleyball captain with a nickname.

stop that, your brain says, she’s your best friend.

and your brain is right. kim minjeong will only ever be a friend. she wouldn’t be anything else, because she should settle for anything else. no doubt that she was someone who played with people’s feelings, but to her, you were off-limits.

without a best friend, who would she have?

and without her, who would you have?

kim minjeong was an enigma, yes, but she was also your best friend and coincidentally, the love of your life.

she was someone you dedicated songs to. the pining, unwillingness to admit your feelings, not being able to move on. as cliche as it sounds, you could not rid your feelings for her. how could you ever forget someone like kim minjeong? the crinkle in her eyes, the way she lights up when she sees a puppy, the soft gaze she lays on you, could you forget it all? you couldn’t. not in this lifetime, nor the next.

your heart automatically followed wherever she went. if minjeong decided one day that she wanted to uproot and migrate to europe, you would follow willingly. she was just someone that you would do anything for.

like pretending that you didn’t like chocolate just so you could give yours to minjeong. your teacher had a habit of giving out chocolate when you did well on a test, some sort of prize to be awarded for your hard work. you couldn’t resist minjeong’s puppy look towards the basket of chocolate and ended up pulling an all-nighter just to get a good mark for some chocolate.

it was all worth it though, the look on minjeong’s face when you handed her the bar.

(“don’t you like chocolate though?” she had asked warily.

“no, i don’t like eating sweet stuff,” you lied through your teeth.)

the look of happiness she had when you handed her a chocolate bar is something you would do anything to keep on her. minjeong makes you feel things— relief, exhilaration, excitement. she makes you feel vulnerable. she makes you feel human, alive. her presence in your life was the only reason you could live through each day. kim minjeong gives you strength, and is your weakness.

fingertips graze your elbow, slow touches trace the shape of your arm. a soft smile on minjeong’s face, you can only stare.

her gaze quickly darts away, smile brightening even more than it did with you. you follow her starry-eyed gaze, your heart breaking slightly when it landed on park sunghoon, the school’s star ice skater. he was somewhat like kim minjeong, quiet, unassuming and blessed with jaw-dropping features. another crack forms when you imagine the two of them together, because they do look good.

fate must be playing with you, since sunghoon turns around, an eyebrow raised at you two. you avoid his gaze while minjeong holds it. he must have left rather swiftly, since your best friend sighs dreamily and continues her rant about her new project partner.

your fists clench, forcing a smile onto your face as you listen to her. minjeong’s words barely enter your ears, since you’re too focused on that starstruck look in her eyes when she noticed sunghoon. you couldn’t blame her, he was a perfect match for her. it was only normal for her to gravitate to someone on par with her.

the background noise blurs, only the ringing alarms in your head existed at that moment. everything suddenly clicks. it’s like the universe has aligned perfectly for one second.

minjeong stares at you, worried. you barely said anything in response to her venting, only nodding and humming. your eyes were far cast, almost droopy.

“you good?” she reaches out to hold your hand.

you turn to her, shifting from her touch.

“yeah, just thinking.”

“about?” she questions.

no reply leaves your lips. it’s silent for a few moments. if anyone else saw the desperate look in your eyes, they would only feel sympathy. it was so damn frightening. frightening that there’s no guarantee you would be loved. frightening that the only person you would give anything for, would only leave you in the end.

“thinking about life.”

you didn’t know which was more tragic; the fact that you keep looking for minjeong everywhere you go, or the fact that she won’t be there one day to welcome you. maybe you shouldn’t desire so much. it would only end up hurting you.

“life,” minjeong repeated, “i think it’s pretty cool.”

you don’t respond.

“it’s pretty cool that we’re existing at the same time, together.”

it’s tragic.

“yeah, it is pretty cool,” you murmur, heart clenching into a grip belonging to kim minjeong.

you’re lying to your best friend.

the constant tug of attraction you feel towards minjeong bubbles lowly in your chest. as she converses happily with her other friends, you merely duck into your locker, pretending to be immersed in finding your textbook. you can feel when minjeong’s gaze lands on you. it burns through your skin, shocking your every vein. the bell rings and you sigh heavily. gulping as you try to manoeuvre your way through the crowd of students while simultaneously avoiding minjeong.

this situation (you didn’t know what else to call it), was brought upon by a striking realisation that you were high school seniors and that if you didn’t get your act straight, you would be stuck forever pining after your best friend.

a warm grip on your hand stops you.

“where are you going?” minjeong raises an eyebrow. you mumble, “home.”

“without waiting for me?”

“i… didn’t see you…” you murmur, nervously tugging on your bag strap, slung over your shoulder. your best friend huffs, throwing her own arm around your unoccupied shoulder, “well you’ve seen me now, so let’s go together.”

you freeze up, “i have a lot of homework… i need to rush home.” it was such a stupid excuse.

minjeong frowns. her arm in your shoulder doesn’t radiate the same warmth as before, it only weighs heavily, like the guilt in your heart.

“you’re kinda pale,” she remarks, “are you sure you’re okay?”

nodding, you shy away from her stare.

“you look sick, i don’t think you should walk back alone,” she says, an unfamiliar look on her face. you don’t know what she’s thinking.

you pull away from her embrace, “it’s okay, my mum’s at home. you should go hang out with your other friends.”

minjeong looks away, a flash of hurt shadowing her face before she retracts her hand.

“like who?”

shrugging, you turn away. something about minjeong makes you want to run far from her. the distance would hurt, but it seems that being around her hurt more. would you rather have minjeong as a friend, or not have her at all? you regret even becoming friends with her, it gave you a taste of her everlasting love. one that you would never receive the pleasure of acquiring.

“minjeong!” one of her friends called out.

her head turns and you take this opportunity to widen the distance between you and her.

you recognise this friend. hwang yeji, the vice-captain of the volleyball team. the group of girls behind yeji stare at you strangely. as she approaches, you cower behind your books.

“the girls were talking about the party yunjin’s holding later, just wanted to check if you were coming,” yeji says. minjeong glances at you. her hesitance makes yeji add, “park sunghoon’s going to be there.”

you resist the urge to tell minjeong not to go. your grip on your textbooks tightens.

“uh,” minjeong replies unintelligently, “i— i’m not sure? i don’t think i’ll go. i’ll text you guys later, or something.”

“you sure?”

your best friend turns to you, and she firmly nods, “yeah, i’m not going, i have something else to do.” you tilt your head curiously. minjeong wouldn’t give up the chance to see her crush so easily.

“okay, sure. let me know if you change your mind.”

minjeong waves her away and beams at you, “so, let’s go? i kinda need help with that chemistry homework mr lee just assigned. if you’re willing to help me, of course.”

you don’t have the heart to reject minjeong again. half-heartedly, you heave a sigh, “my house or yours?”

your reluctant agreement makes minjeong’s face light up. like a cute little puppy. she kinda reminds you of your neighbour’s dog.

“yours, obviously, it’s way closer,” minjeong rolls her eyes, bemused, “i missed your mum, is she cooking tonight?”

minjeong grabs ahold of your elbow, clinging onto it like a lifeline.

(she doesn’t know she’s yours.)

“don’t know,” you answer, skin heating up at her contact. your short sentences probably give your true feelings away, minjeong’s touch diminishing by the second. she sighs softly. guilt eats up at you, knowing minjeong would have more fun with her other friends rather than you. it’s all your fault that you can’t control your own feelings.

“what don’t you understand about the homework?” you ask, trying to reduce the awkward tension. minjeong shrugs halfheartedly, “everything. i wasn’t really paying attention during the lesson.”

you giggle at that, imagining your best friend dozing off in class. her head resting against her arm, lips parted and eyelashes fluttering shut. her hair parting perfectly, framing her small face. it wouldn’t be the first time seeing the sight. she would look so vulnerable and soft. sometimes, you want to shield her from the world.

“i finished most of it during lunch,” you tell her. minjeong stares at you incredulously, “you told me you couldn’t eat lunch with me because you were busy studying.”

your eyebrows raise, “is doing homework not studying?”

“well— no! it’s called homework y/n,” minjeong reasons, “you could have done it later and ate lunch with me.”

“then who would help you with your homework?” you retort back. minjeong gapes at you, like a fish out of water. you ignore her, muttering in faux annoyance, “maybe i shouldn’t help you anymore.”

minjeong bolts up, her bag almost smacking you in the face as she grabs onto you, forcing intense eye contact, “no! you have to help me! yizhuo sucks at chemistry and my other friends don’t even bother turning up for class!”

with a pondering look, you face away, pretending to think about what minjeong said.

regardless of your facade, you would always end up agreeing to her. but she doesn’t need to know that.

“please y/n!” minjeong begs, “you’re the only one!”

her words grip your heart, tearing it slightly. masking your bitterness with a smile, you pat her head, “just wanted to hear you say it.”

it’s true. you’ve always wanted to hear those words; minjeong telling you that you’re the only one for her, the only one who she trusts and relies on. you want to be the only one who’s exposed to all of her, the only one who can cause butterflies in her stomach to appear. you want to be her everything, only you, no room for anything else. because that’s what she is to you. your everything.

“you’re so mean!” minjeong whines. it’s adorable. you hate it. pinching her cheeks (and eliciting a small yelp from her), you reply, “you know i like teasing you.”

minjeong nods bashfully, her cheek flushed red from where your fingers previously brushed. she quickly sobers up, dragging you by the wrist. it’s your house, but the way she’s leading you, any stranger could think otherwise.

her fast pace despite her height swiftly brings you back home. you’re greeted by the sight of your mother’s back when you enter the front door. she’s humming cheerfully as she cuts up a variety of fruits.

“mum,” you greet, “minjeong’s here.”

your mother swerves around, she beams instantly when she spots the blonde standing next to you.

“oh, it’s been so long since y/n brought you here!” you glare at your mother, arguing back, “she was literally here last week.”

the older woman pays you no mind as she hugs minjeong, who eagerly returns it, throwing a smirk over your mother’s shoulder towards you. you’re reminded of the fact that your own mother probably prefers your best friend.

“did you get prettier, mum?” minjeong asks, dramatically gasping. your mother, despite being married and twice the age of minjeong, blushes like a schoolgirl. you roll your eyes and drag your best friend away from your mother, lest you witness their innocent flirting. you sigh in relief as the bedroom door slams shut behind you, drowning out the yells from your mother about you dragging minjeong away. your best friend merely snickers and makes herself at home. your eyes follow minjeong as she takes off her blazer and unbuttons her blouse, exposing the sharp angle of her collarbones.

you quickly look away when she sends you a curious stare.

“so,” you clear your throat, “what do you need help with?”

minjeong groans and pulls out her file, pouting as she takes out the worksheet. you sit next to her on the floor, leaning against your bed frame. luckily you had finished the worksheet already and understood the content rather easily.

as you explain the different questions, minjeong writes down notes, focused. you’re surprised at her diligence, normally minjeong would just whine and complain cutely about her homework whenever you would tutor her.

stray strands of baby hair fall against her forehead. she huffs, blowing them slightly. your eyes follow the puff of air.

“do you get it?” you ask softly. minjeong’s eyes flicker up to you, crinkling gratefully, “no, not really, but thanks for trying.”

you laugh, smacking minjeong’s shoulder gently.

“which part didn’t you understand? i’ll repeat it again.”

she merely shrugs, “it’s fine. i think i’m just doomed for chemistry. at least i have some notes now.” your smile fades before forming a frown. usually, she would beg you to keep going. her attitude now was a stark contrast from before. there was something bothering her.

“what’s wrong?”

minjeong glances at you, her lips pursed and unrevealing.

you somehow know what’s bothering her.

“you’re not burdening me, minjeong,” you murmur, “i’m happy to teach you.”

“that’s… i know, but it’s so… frustrating. i feel so stupid next to you. you’re always helping me out and i don’t do anything in return. i feel useless,” minjeong admits bashfully.

being minjeong’s best friend sucks. you hate it. how can someone like minjeong be so insecure beside you? if anything, you should be the one reconsidering your worth to her. the most popular girl in school’s best friend is some lame loser from the debate club. she shouldn’t be feeling like she’s useless. every second she’s on your mind. you would do anything for minjeong. and you wonder if you mean even a semblance to her life.

“you’re my best friend,” is all you can say, “helping you makes me happy.”

minjeong stares at you with wide eyes, tears brimming at the edge. her cheeks become increasingly rosy, tell-tale signs that she’s about to cry.

“you aren’t useless, i’m happy to teach you,” you repeat firmly.

seeing as she still has that defeated look on her face, she doesn’t seem to understand.

“i’m glad that you asked me to teach you. i’m happy that you rely on me for things like these.” you reach out a hand to wipe away the stray tear falling.

minjeong’s reply comes as a whisper, “then why don’t you rely on me too?”

your hand falters.

“i do,” you say in utmost sincerity.

“it doesn’t feel like you do,” she mutters, a pained look flashing across her face. perhaps, in your haste to protect your own feelings of affection, you have forgotten your duties as a friend first.

filled with guilt, you try to muster a comforting smile, “i know i’m closed off and it’s hard to read me,” minjeong nods, sniffling, “but with you, i try my best to be more open.”

maybe it’s a lie. maybe you do the opposite, building even higher walls when it comes to kim minjeong, in fear that she will be the one who breaks them down, allowing easy access to your vulnerability.

“do you really?” minjeong asks softly, distrusting. you can’t say it doesn’t hurt.

“i do, so please don’t say you’re useless.”

(because you're everything to me.)

“the stars would be so proud to know that their atoms created someone like you.” your words, filled with affection and truth. because really, some part of your soul has loved her since the beginning of everything.

“then maybe we’re from the same star,” minjeong replies. like soulmates, the words go unsaid.

“i think i’m okay with that.”

her eyes flicker back to yours, drawing you in with hypnotising big brown orbs. there’s a bubble formed around you, feeling as if time has stopped and all of the universe has aligned for a second. there’s only you and minjeong coexisting now. your hand stills, cradling her soft cheek and stroking it gently with your thumb.

“y/n,” her lips part, whispering your name. it just feels so right coming from her. hearing her voice murmur your name with such intimacy was heaven itself.

this situation is dangerous. you can’t control yourself. minjeong’s hand is resting on your thigh, sending shockwaves throughout your body. you can’t avert your eyes from her face. kim minjeong was too dangerous for you to be around.

with sheer willpower, you finally look away and drop your hand. it hurts to not look at minjeong, but it hurts more when you do, knowing that you will never get to have her like others will. her hand retracts immediately and she turns away.

out of the corner of your eye, you see minjeong hastily wiping the rest of her tears. it’s awkward. the silence and tension is damning.

you don’t know what to even say. you can’t look minjeong in the eye right now. if you did, maybe you would do something you would regret for the rest of your life.

“uh,” minjeong clears her throat and runs her fingers through her golden locks nervously, “i wanted to ask… do you wanna go to that party yeji mentioned?”

“why are you asking me?” you ask, genuinely curious. minjeong has never asked you before, knowing that you would much rather stay home than indulge in a night of dealing with hormonal teenagers in a sweaty crowd.

your best friend shrugs, “just thought since we’re graduating soon… maybe we should go together, for once.”

her words strike something in you. it is your last year, and you haven’t gone to a single party with minjeong. your reasons were that you might get drunk and do something stupid (probably confess to minjeong), and you did not want to potentially see minjeong all over someone. but with the hopeful glint in her eyes, you can’t bring yourself to deny her.

“okay,” you answer meekly, instantly receiving minjeong’s smile. the doubt of going to a party melts away, and instead a warm feeling of adoration sizzles.

maybe going to yunjin’s party won’t be so bad after all.

spoiler alert; it was, for mainly two reasons.

minjeong’s choice of a party fit was dastardly revealing. she probably had more skin than fabric showing, which as a best friend, you totally encourage, but as a best friend who’s also in love with her, it means that your eyes have not left her body since. the cropped white sleeveless top plagues your mind even as minjeong worms her way through the crowd.

your own clothes were tight against your skin, picked out by minjeong, who had spent more time on you than herself.

(“it’s your first time going to a party, y/n. you have to look jaw-dropping,” she had said, hand steadily drawing eyeliner onto you.)

minjeong eventually comes back to you, two drinks in her hands. your eyes snap away from her naked skin of her midriff, exposed by the shortness of her top.

“for you,” she grins, handing a drink to you.

your eyebrows raise.

“soju?”

“yeah, i know you don’t like the hard stuff,” she says, taking a sip of her own cup.

you raise the cup to your lips, tasting the sweet yet dizzy taste. humming in delight, your tongue darts out, cleaning the remnant from your glossy lips. minjeong smiles appreciatively at the sight, glad that you were finally letting loose.

a arm swings to wrap around your shoulder.

“surprised to see you here, y/n!” aeri grins widely, her smile rivalling that of the sun’s.

you settle into her touch, somewhat happy to see a recognisable face amongst the partygoers. if aeri was here, that probably meant jimin and yizhuo were somewhere nearby too.

“hey unnie,” minjeong greets, “I finally managed to get y/n out of her house.”

your smile falters.

why did it sound like a chore?

“that’s good, you only live once, y’know. let’s go dance y/n!” aeri exclaims. between the mess of people dancing and grinding up on each other, and the silence of the corner with minjeong, you would much rather stay with the latter. yet, the encouraging look from aeri pushed you to nod towards the sea of people.

minjeong’s hand flies to grasp onto your arm, an incredulous look on her face, “you’re dancing?”

you look at her over your shoulder, taking note of her furrowed brows, “yeah? i’m here for a reason… right?”

unable to refute that logic, her grip slackens and you’re dragged by aeri, who’s excitedly rambling about how fun parties were.

your best friend slips into the shadows of the house, nowhere to be found the next second you turned your head. well, at least you had aeri.

or, you did. the moment you whip back to talk to aeri, the girl had disappeared. panic shutters throughout your whole body. swarmed with sweaty bodies that radiated heat and the sickening smell of cheap beer, you desperately looked for a way out. your attempts go futile, unable to claw yourself away from the crowd of people. some familiar heads pop out; mark lee, self-proclaimed basketballer of the century, jang wonyoung, the girl with modelling agencies lining up to sign her when she graduates, park sohyun, certified girl crush of your school and girlfriend of equally popular zhou xinyu.

“hey!” someone yells loudly over the music. you instantly respond, distraught eyes tracking down the source of the voice. after a few seconds of looking, you catch park sunghoon staring at you with a hand stretched out.

shit. you think. turning back to the increasingly constricting crowd, you decide to take his hand and be pulled out instead of continuing to suffer.

free of the diminishing personal space you had, you let out a sigh of relief. you’ve never been happier to see sunghoon until now. the boy sends you an amused look. you probably look awful right now; you could feel your bangs sticking to your forehead, stained with perspiration and the sweat dripping down your neck made your top cling to your body uncomfortably.

“you good?” he asks softly, handing you a cup of water. you hesitate from taking it. sunghoon quickly takes a sip from it, stating, “i didn’t put anything inside.”

nodding, you gulp down the water like you’re dying from dehydration. finally quelling your parched throat, you take a good look at the ice skater.

jet black hair messily tousled. a plain, white t-shirt adorned with jeans. he wore a few accessories, like the sterling silver necklace around his neck. a boyish grin plastered on his face.

“i saw you come in, you looked a little,” sunghoon pauses, finding the right words, “out of place.”

“i don’t come to parties often,” you explain, feeling the need to converse with him as he had saved you.

sunghoon nods. he looks around for a bit before jutting at an empty corner, “let’s go there to talk. the music’s kind of making my head hurt.”

you would do anything to not get roped back into the dancing crowd.

the corner that you approached was right beside the staircase. damn, you stare at the intricate detailing of the railings, yunjin had good taste.

“why’d you come then? if you don’t like parties,” sunghoon asks curiously. you shrug, “my friend asked me to.” his inquisitive gaze doesn’t make you say anymore. after all, you don’t really want to talk about minjeong to her crush.

you lean back against the wall, muscles straining from tensing your whole body.

“your friend left you alone?”

“my other friend asked me to dance but she disappeared.”

sunghoon chuckles, “you looked like a fish out of water.”

rolling your eyes, you take another long gulp of water. somehow, you kind of understood why minjeong liked sunghoon. he was nice. and maybe if you were a boy and not her best friend, she would find you nice too.

“i never thought i would get to talk to you,” sunghoon suddenly professes.

you stare at him with wide eyes, stunned by his abrupt confession.

“i saw you for the first time during that debate competition,” he laughs to himself, “about the endangerment of animals.”

his eyes crinkle into a crescent of awe, “i remember thinking to myself, you must be the smartest person in our grade. then sometimes i see you staring, and it feels like you understand.”

and somehow, you know where this conversation is going. a feeling of agony crawls up your throat, threatening to blurt out that it wasn’t you that liked him.

“i’m sorry, this must be weird to hear.”

you force yourself to reply, “it’s fine.”

it’s getting harder and harder to ignore the constant buzzing of your phone. you feel bad when you see the plethora of texts minjeong has sent, all questioning your whereabouts. the last text was sent a minute ago, stating, ‘i think i see you.’

“we made eye contact once. it’s hard to admit but i kept thinking about it afterwards. i don’t know if i’m reading everything wrong but… do you like me?” he asks, eyes shining with hope. his body is awkwardly crouching down to meet your eyes.

as you struggle to answer him, a figure rapidly approaches.

“y/n! i’ve been looking for you everywhere— oh,” and of course, minjeong shows up now. no doubt she has heard the last part of sunghoon’s words. you direct a helpless look at her, praying that she lets you explain and everything will be fine.

“hello,” sunghoon greets, “sorry to take y/n away.”

he doesn’t look sorry.

minjeong nods, her entire body akin to one that’s frozen. deft fingers wrap around your wrist.

“i need to talk to you,” she says, staring into your eyes. sunghoon goes unacknowleged. unable to trust your voice, you merely nod meekly, bringing your hand up to wave half-heartedly at sunghoon as minjeong drags you away.

she brings you upstairs, which is slightly concerning because there aren’t any drunk highschoolers lingering in any rooms. was she breaking any of yunjin’s rules? what if the girl didn’t want anyone upstairs?

seemingly content with the balcony she ends up in, minjeong drops your hand and locks the clear doors.

you croak out, “why are you locking the doors…?”

minjeong arches an eyebrow, “in case you try to run.”

oh.

“what did you want to talk abo—”

“do you have any idea how scared i was? this is your first ever party in god knows how long and your number one instinct is to disappear with aeri? i can’t believe i just let you go without any supervision! and then i find yizhuo and aeri is suddenly with her? do you know how upset i was when I found out aeri just left you there?” minjeong says in rapid-fire words.

“uh—”

she paces around the balcony, fingers nearly ripping out her hair, “and then when i text you, you don’t even reply or read my messages. what was i meant to assume? i thought you were in some sort of trouble and i literally went on a manhunt to find you.”

only now you notice the sweat dripping down from her hairline.

“let me explain—”

“and where do i find you? chatting it up with park sunghoon! are you crazy? have you gone mad?” she shrieks in clear distress. you grab her by the shoulders, trying to stop her intense rambling.

“minjeong,” she breathes in sharply, “i’m sorry.”

a scoff.

“i didn’t mean to ignore your messages and i got surrounded by the crowd, i’m sorry,” you repeat. the girl finally calms down, her breathing stabilises.

minjeong sighs, “i was so scared. you’ve never liked parties and when you actually agree to coming…”

“it’s okay.” it really isn’t. some part of you is upset at minjeong, but the other part yearns for her, and doesn’t love blind people sometimes?

when did these blossoming feelings of adoration become something as strong as love?

“ugh, fuck,” minjeong furrows her brows, shutting her eyes shut and pinching her nose bridge, waves of frustration radiating from her, “and what the hell was park sunghoon talking to you about?”

you tense up. mouth suddenly dry and unable to utter a single word, you let minjeong bask in the silence.

“answer me,” she demands.

you clear your throat, “he thinks i like him.” it’s the safest answer, and it was the part she probably heard.

“do you?”

your eyes widen, “n-no, of course not.”

minjeong stares at you, scanning your face for any hint of a lie, “really? you’re telling the truth?”

“i don’t like sunghoon.” i like you, is what you want to say.

“seriously y/n, don’t lie to me. if you like him, you can tell me. i won’t be mad or anything,” (the constant grinding of her teeth tells you otherwise), “i’ll be more upset that you’re lying to me.” you don’t dare tell her you’ve lied to her before.

“i don’t like him,” you repeat, tired and exasperated. all you want now is to go home and get some rest. the constant bass-boosted music blasting in your ears is giving you a headache, combined with minjeong’s interrogation, you feel light-headed.

your best friend rolls her eyes. you resist the urge to just jump off the balcony. you can’t stand it when minjeong is mad, especially if she’s mad at you.

“i thought we were friends, y/n,” she whispers harshly.

your heart clenches, restrained from showing your true feelings like a straitjacket.

it’s maddening, to not reveal your own adoration for the girl. how sick is it that the girl you actually liked thinks you like another guy? the universe just hates your guts.

“minjeong…” your voice trails off. you reach out a hand.

she jumps away, as if burnt and your hand was acidic. pain shoots through you instantly. your fingers fall, devastated.

“i told you to rely on me,” she exhales, “if you think i’m mad that you like sunghoon, i’m not. i’m mad you don’t trust me enough to tell me.”

“i don’t like sunghoon, believe me,” you plead, tears welling up in your eyes, threatening to fall with every inch minjeong moves away. her whole body shudders and she strides towards the sliding doors, hand moving up to unlock the doors.

she sends you a bitter look, scathing and unlike the girl you love.

“i can’t look at you.”

this must be heartbreak. the scorching heat seething into the pores of your skin, burning your insides with fueled anger and pain. it’s as if someone has just poured gasoline into your body and lit it on fire. kim minjeong, the object of your affections, saying she can’t stand to see your face? it’s heartbreaking. tears run down your cheeks freely. the girl you’ve loved for so long, the one who claimed your heart without competition, kim minjeong. you feel your knees weaken, almost collapsing if it weren’t for the railing right next to you. your hands fly out to support yourself. you can’t breathe through the tears.

you can’t let it end like this.

“i like you,” you cry out as a last ditch attempt to preventing minjeong from exiting your life forever, “i like you, not sunghoon… s-so please don’t leave me.”

the girl stiffens up. she turns back to you slowly, surprise overtaking her body. your heart is racing, way quicker than usual, and it’s accelerating. you swallow any oxygen you can get. the pain coursing through you is too much to handle.

“p-please do-don’t leave…!” your tears cascade like a waterfall, blurring your vision. all you can see is a hazy vision of blonde hair and pale skin coming towards you. you continue through sniffles, “min..minjeong..” you feel incoming pain clashing into your head. blinking, your sight clouds.

“y/n? y/n!” minjeong yells, her arms reaching out to grab onto you. her embrace is warm and comforting, a stark contrast to the emotions she makes you feel.

“please,” you whisper weakly. minjeong’s grip on your top tightens, pulling you in closer as she murmurs words of comfort into your ears.

eventually, you manage to steady your breathing with the help of minjeong. embarrassment rushes through your blood, causing your cheeks to heat up.

it’s only the sound of your sniffles and heavy breathing that disturbs the silence of the night, the loud music below goes forgotten.

“you okay?” minjeong breaks the first wall to your heart.

you nod bashfully, rejecting the idea of lifting your head up, in fear you might never be able to embrace minjeong like this again.

“you like me?” she asks. the second wall collapses.

you nod again.

“not sunghoon?”

you shake your head.

she lets out a giggle. it’s so girlish and sweet, compared to the husky chuckle sunghoon let out previously. the third wall falls.

“i won’t leave you, i promise.”

“you can’t promise that,” you try to say, but it comes out muffled as you bury your face into her collarbones.

minjeong traces the baby hairs on the back of your neck.

“maybe. but i would like to try.” your heart is free to take now.

silence falls again. you feel a sliver of hope at her words.

“i like you,” minjeong says, “if it wasn’t clear enough.”

you groan, somewhat happily and self-conscious at your dense personality.

“why?”

“hm?”

you sigh, “why do you like me?”

minjeong contemplates for a few seconds before launching into a tirade of love confessions.

“i like how intelligent you are. i like when your arrogance comes through during your debates. i like you the most when you’re half asleep and i get the luxury of seeing you vulnerable. i like it when you help me with my homework. i like how you’re always so willing to assist me. i like how your eyes light up when you’re eating,” she caresses your rosy cheeks with her palm, using her fingers to push your lips upwards, “and i like the way you smile when you see me.”

the blooming feelings don’t diminish, they only come back stronger when minjeong strokes your face gently.

“why do you like me?” she questions.

you swallow the lump in your throat. could you even articulate how much you feel for her?

“i think of you day and night. you’re the only thing that occupies here,” you bring her hand to your chest, right above your heart, stating earnestly, “i like you because you make me feel safe.”

it’s entirely true. even if minjeong makes you want to build walls as high as skyscrapers, she will forever hold the key to destroying them. if she asked, maybe all the metal plates built around your heart would come crumbling down in a second.

“i was upset you liked sunghoon,” she laughs, “i stopped liking him in sixth grade and i have no idea why people still think i do.”

blood flushes your cheeks. you assumed the same.

“you’re always staring at him though…” you interject quietly. minjeong pats your head, “i like that one tracksuit he has.”

you’re taken back to the day when you caught minjeong staring at him. the memory of him wearing a navy adidas tracksuit appears in your head.

“he thought i liked him ‘cause i kept staring at him. but it was just me glaring at him when you were looking,” you frown. minjeong laughs heartily.

“i’m so happy,” she sighs, content. you can imagine the wide smile she has on right now. snuggling deeper into her embrace, you nod in agreement.

“me too.”

“want to let me show you how much i like you?” she asks teasingly.

and maybe you had more to talk about. and maybe you should beat up aeri for leaving you all alone. and maybe you should apologise to sunghoon for your abrupt exit. but those could all be done later. the only thing that mattered now was the feel of minjeong’s lips on yours.

kim minjeong, your best friend, and the love of your life.

[no1deepspacehater]

⸻⋅☾SYLUS - NSFW ABC's☽⋅⸻

TW: Spoilers, General TW (It's Sylus, c'mon now) and mentions of CNC (he doesn't like it, it's just mentioned)

AN: Since he's come out i've been spending so much time exploring his character and unlocking his myths!! This man has me in a chokehold. I'm so sorry Xavier.

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He’s gonna have you in his hold for a bit, he’s not a big cuddler, but he wants you to come down nicely. So it’s a bit of him watching you relax and whipering how good you were etc for a bit.

Then, mostly for him, he’s gonna have a bit of wine (he’s such an alcoholic).

He’ll offer you a bath and shower, which he does take even if you don’t want to (remember, aftercare goes both ways, this is his way to relax.)

But don’t worry, if you want some cuddles he’s willingly, after much teasing of how much of a needy kitten you are.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Everything is his favourite part.

But if he has to choose, his arms and hands.

He’s put a lot of hours into training, without his evol he can still strangle the light from someone’s life on his own and punch the daylight out of them too.

For you, he is an ass and tits man. Why does he have to choose? He can and will have both.

Loves to see a curvy dress on you that shows off your physique. His hand is so quick to slide around your waist, proud to have a good looking person like you by his side to show off.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Thick, clear ropes of the stuff. He almost gets annoyed with how messy it can be.

Not that he’s opposed to covering you with the stuff, no he just prefers to fill you with it.

Loves tasting you, and having you coat his entire hand with your essence.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

During his surveillance of you (stalking), has watched you bathed and shower at least once or twice.

Didn’t make it a habit, even he has lines, but he’s found himself enraptured with just watching you do these simple things.

It weird because he doesn’t watch you masturbate, nor masturbate himself really during the times he watched you shower.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Knows about sex. Fucks.

He’s experienced, you can’t tell me otherwise. He’s had a few workers here and there.

He also knows that just because he has experience with other women, doesn’t mean he knows all about your likings.

But trust, he’ll spend all night learning you.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Reverse and regular cowgirl, surprisingly.

Bet let’s dissect, even though you’re the one on top of him, he’s of course in control.

He has no trouble holding you down on top of him, or moving you up and down on him.

And of course, the sight is beautiful to him, he’s in close reach of everything, and of course, most of the time you have no other option to be face to face with him.

Where he can really see wha’t going on in your mind.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

I wouldn’t say he’s overly serious, but if you call his constant teasing humorous then he’s fucking hilarious.

But yes, he’s more focused on whispering the most outright naaesstttiest filth close into your ear while you come undone before him.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Shaved down to a minimum and neat. He has his own (very high quality) clippers for down there. Takes pride in his look.

Wouldn’t mind if you like to keep things natural, but does like to have things low for you as well.

Hell, he’ll go crazy if you have some type of design on it!

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He’s more of a dirty romantic.

But he can be sweet, in his own way.

Telling you how much he adores you, your sounds, your body.

Soft touches, handling you delicately at times.

And he keeps you pretty close during the act, lots of skin to skin touching.

His kisses range from feather light to deep kisses, and leaving marks is definitely one of his acts of affection.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

This might be crazy, but hear me out.

I do not see this man masturbating often.

Maybe like ONCE in a literal blue moon, like if he’s deadly bored. (And let’s face it, he’s too much of a busy man to be bored.)

Also, he’s the most powerful man in the N109 zone, and basically has most of Linkon in his hands, I’m sure he will find someone (You) that will satisfy his needs.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Need I say, BLOOD KINK!?!

Yeah, he get’s down like that, and I will die on this hill.

He’d love to see your pathetic attempts at trying to make him flinch as you draw a blade against his skin, it winds him up.

Won’t go too crazy on you, but let’s just say you’re going to need a bandage for that bike mark.

Ropes, whips, cuffs, he’s into that entire scene, anything to make you submit to him.

Vibrators are common place, one of his favourite things to do is to watch you fall apart without even laying a finger on you.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

One of his many secluded castles or cabins. He can get you as loud as he wants there.

Not that he really cares if anyone hears the both of you.

Prefers to be in a comfortable place really, but doesn’t mind if you want to get dirty in a semi-public place (Like a private room, clubs, office).

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Seeing you stand your ground.

Once, you pistol whipped a high ranking gangster during an undercover mission, after he ‘joked’ about a female being in a room. Then you proceeded to berate him and his whole crew coldly and put him in his place.

He was rock hard after that. Wanted to take you then and there.

Also has a thing for you being bratty, replying smartly to his teasing. Makes him want to fuck it out of you.

Seeing you dressed up. He knows you’re not materialistic, and neither is he, but seeing you in a fitting outfit that you bought with his card (that probably cost thousands), drives him crazy.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Consensual-non-consensual, or noncon stuff. Yes, he likes when you’re bratty and put up a fight a little, but not in that way. (He sees the effect of trafficking in the N109 zone, and doesn’t feel comfortable seeing anyone portray that.)

Anything that involves other types of bodily fluids, yes, that type of stuff. He finds it weird.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

LOVES a blowjob with all his cold heart. Would never say no. He can be kind of a head pusher, because he knows it ticks you off, but if you’re not comfortable he can resists, he just likes to hear you choking on him.

Does also like to eat you out, only if you’re cool with him doing it to the point of much overstimulation (he’s going to do that anyway).

P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Definitely prefers Slow, sensual, but DEEP!!

You swear, you don’t know how he does it, but he’s gotten to places you can’t even reach with a dildo.

He’ll go wild sometimes and fuck you with sharp, sudden movements, because he’s close but he wants you to come before him (But he won’t tell you that).

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Prefers to have his way with you.

He can get busy at times, so he’s not always available for that. He tends to disappear randomly in the night and show up randomly.

If you beg him enough, rile him up enough secretly, he will not hesitate to push you up against a wall in an alleyway and give you what you’re asking for, just know that he always ties up loose ends, and we will be continuing later.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He’s very open, apart from the hard no’s.

Likes the heart pounding excitement from taking new, kind of dangerous risks.

Won’t do anything that will put you in serious danger or grievous harms way.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

If it’s night, he’s going to town.

But that’s mostly because he’s taking his time with you.

Short refractory period after the first 2-3 times, then after the 5th time he’s just focused on making you cum.

If it’s the day, let’s say about 2, maybe three rounds max. He’s definitely less energized because he’s normally asleep.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Not really toys, since the handcuffs, muzzles and whips have actually been used for other affairs... But they’re multipurpose, anyway, or so he says.

Does invest in vibrators and the like when he sees how much he can do to you with them.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Do you really have to ask this, for SYLUS?

The man was practically born to tease. You think it’s his new way of trying to kill you, or drive you insane, at least.

If he’s really feeling like a prick, he’s denying your orgasm a couple times, and punishing you hard if you do, by overstimulating you until you’re shaking.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He’s not a moaner, honestly, if he wasn’t talking you through it most of the time it’d be deadly quiet.

He’ll let out a grunt here and there, a breathy sigh that still gets you weak occasionally.

But of course, he’s talking you through it, and his vocabulary is quite expressive.

With his baritone voice, he could be talking about pineapples and it’d still get you going.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He knows the twins have been trying to eavesdrop sometimes.

Once, you asked if they could watch, and he allowed it.

He can always tell when they're there, and tells you that you spoil them too much.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Big, I don’t care, argue with the wall.

Okay okay, more length than girth if we’re being real, but he’s not skinny either.

At least 9 inches. He’s GIGANTIC, look at him! Def a shower.

VEINY!! Decorated from tip to balls.

His entire shaft turns red from stimulation, the tip being the brightest. It rivals his eyes.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Surprisingly not that high, honestly.

Sure, he likes to tease and rile you up, but it’s not like he’s expecting or wanting sex just because.

Can go pretty long without it honestly, there are other ways of having his fun with you.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Unless it’s in the morning/day, he’s staying awake.

Sex is one of the few energy-inducing activities for him that will keep him awake for hours.

Will probably play with your hair, or just lay by you for a while until taking a short nap himself, maybe sipping a few wines to relax him.

[littlexdeaths]

eddie munson x plus size reader

warnings: angst, allusions to smut, major body insecurities, troubles orgasming due to said insecurities, eddie is so incredibly sweet, oral (fem receiving)

a/n: this started out as just a little angsty thing cause i was in my feelings, but it quickly spiraled into something more. while i feel a little nervous sharing it because it directly mirrors my own experience with intimacy issues and self esteem, i hope it can maybe help someone who has felt this same way <3

“— just stop, eds. it’s clearly not gonna happen.”

he can hear the disappointment in your voice as you tug his hand out of your panties. willing away the tears that threaten to spill past your lash line.

you swear something’s wrong with you.

he’s been at this for well over an hour, having to take multiple breaks from when his fingers started to cramp up. your clit feels almost raw, yet numb to the touch. the constant circles he was rubbing against it left you with nothing but discomfort.

“sweetheart—” he whispers, brushing your hair back from your face.

but you quickly bury your face into the pillow, the sheer humiliation makes you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole. you already know what he’s going to say, he’s said it more times than you can count.

“save it, please. i don’t want your pity,” your words are slightly muffled, but he hears them loud and clear.

so he stays silent, keeping his chest pressed into your back. he rubs soothing circles over the curve of your hip while you soak his pillow with your tears. each silent shake of your shoulders twists the knife deeper into his gut.

why he hasn’t left is beyond you— anyone else would have.

not only is he stuck with a girlfriend who can’t take her clothes off in front of him, he’s stuck with one who can’t finish either. you can’t imagine how frustrating that must be.

“why are you even still here?” you sniffle, feeling his body stiffen behind you. “this can’t be fun for you.”

he doesn’t answer you, instead moving from his position behind you to roll you onto your back before he slots himself between your thick thighs. and even in the dark of his room you can see how your words have upset him.

“— i’m here because i love you.” he asserts, calloused fingers catching your chin to keep your gaze level with his. “i stay despite how much you continually try to push me away, because you’re everything to me.”

and he catches some more tears that trickle down your cheeks with his thumb. he unintentionally swipes them over your lips and they taste almost bitter on your tongue when you take a shuddering breath in.

“i just.. i feel like this is too good to be true— that you’re too good to be true.” you voice is barely above a whisper now, “that once you see everything… you’ll change your mind.”

his eyes slip shut and an almost painful look crosses over his features.

“baby,” he sighs, carefully taking your hand to guide it up his bare torso. you can feel the uneven flesh beneath your fingertips, a reminder that you almost lost him not so long ago. “you could grow a third head and sprout a tail and i would love you just the same.”

that image has you giggling softly, the sound causing his eyes to flutter back open. eddie grins down at you, bringing your hand up to press a gentle kiss to the back of it.

“there’s my girl,” he hums.

and despite the worry that still lingers in the back of your head, your body automatically reacts to his gentle words. you shift your hips beneath his own, now acutely aware of how uncomfortable the damp cotton feels against your skin.

eddie can see that spark of need return to your eyes, his head tilting down to nudge your nose with his own. he inhales your soft gasp when he carefully presses his hips down into yours.

“can i try something? if you don’t like it, i promise we can stop.”

he waits before making another move, lips hovering over yours until he hears your soft confirmation. then he starts to descend lower.

his lips press against the cotton of your sleep shirt, across the soft pudge of your belly. and you hold you breath when his fingers graze over the hem of it, slowly beginning to push it up your plush thighs.

“eddie i—”

he must hear the alarm in your voice as he stops, warm eyes gazing up at you from where he’s positioned between your legs.

“do you want me to stop?” he asks.

the small shake of your head encourages him to continue, pushing the shirt up only until he can see the outline of your panties.

“we’ll keep this on, okay?” he motions to your shirt.

“okay,” you breathe.

you feel your body is on fire, every nerve ending like a live wire. and you practically jolt when you feel his lips press against your damp underwear, his tongue licking a slow stripe between your clothed folds.

“oh,” you sigh and you can feel his deep chuckle rumble against your core.

so he does it again, enjoying the breathy whine that tumbles past your lips. eddie’s fingers slide up your thighs, sneaking underneath the elastic of your underwear as he continues his actions. going slow enough to get you used to the feeling, but firm enough so you feel each drag of his tongue.

after your first failed attempt from earlier you feel ravenous, now bucking your hips up against his mouth. and your boyfriend seems to get the hint.

“you want them off, sweetheart?”

and you nod almost frantically, any feelings of insecurity pushed to the wayside as your desire slams back into you at full force.

not needing to be told again, eddie carefully guides the fabric down your thighs. tossing them next to you on the bed before he coaxes your legs to rest on his shoulders. even in the dark he can see the curly hairs that cover your mound and the sticky strings of desire when he guides your folds apart with his fingers.

you hear a soft curse leave his mouth, his hair tickling your inner thighs when he leans down further to guide his tongue through your slick.

“so fuckin’ pretty, baby.” he coos.

you gasp aloud at the sensation when the muscle delves deeper, dipping inside your entrance before dragging more slick up to your sensitive nub.

everything feels more heightened like this— more intimate. and you swear you’re more in love with him now than you ever been.

so you let your body sink further into the mattress while he tastes you properly for the first time. his own hips rutting against the bed in tandem with each glide of his tongue. the noises he’s making are downright filthy, the vibrations only aiding in bringing you closer to that release.

it’s right within your grasp, all you have to do is reach out and take it.

the edges of your vision start to blur while your fingers card themselves through his curls to hold him in place. and that wave that’s been building up inside you finally crashes over the surface.

your shaky cry of his name has him moaning into you, his hips twitching as he spills into the fabric of his boxers. and he doesn’t mind when your trembling thighs tighten around his head, keeping him locked into place between your hips.

not that eddie would ever complain.

you finally release him when the feeling becomes too much, thighs settling onto the bed when you tug at his curls. he lifts his head then, eyes mirroring your half lidded gaze. his slick-smeared lips shine in the moonlight that streams through his bedroom window and you feel another rush of emotion flow through you.

“thank you,” you whisper, voice cracking.

he brings your knuckles back to his lips, pressing a wet kiss onto each one. satisfied with his work, eddie crawls back up your body, pressing tender kisses until he reaches your lips. you wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him even closer when your mouth do meet.

but that’s when you feel it. the warm, sticky mess that has soaked into his boxers and smeared across his hairy thighs.

“did you just— ?” you ask in almost disbelief, wide eyes meeting his own when he pulls back to give you a cheeky grin.

another gentle roll of his hips has you gasping aloud, the action pressing his mess further into your own as he chuckles deeply.

“damn right, i did.”

[wttcsms]

secrets i have held in my heart are harder to hide than i thought ; simon “ghost” riley.

pairing simon “ghost” riley x f!reader word count 2k synopsis as a last resort, ghost finds himself letting soap stay with him in your shared home. soap is understandably confused as to why there’s a pregnant young woman already occupying this supposed safehouse.  content contains completely sfw, fluff, domestic fluff, soft!ghost, ghost is absolutely whipped for you & is not ashamed of it, pregnancy, pregnant!reader, marital bliss, protective!ghost, soap & ghost bromance notes takes place in the same timeline/au as this fic! 

“We’re fucked if we can’t find shelter anywhere,” MacTavish, ever the optimist, readjusts the rucksack on his back before looking at the other operative with him.

He’s not surprised to find his partner’s expression entirely unreadable due to the mask obscuring the entirety of his face, save for a pair of eerily perceptive eyes.

“We can try to contact Price, see if he knows about any safehouses nearb—“

“Won’t be necessary.” Ghost cuts him off, sounding a bit irritated. “I know a place nearby.”

“How do you seem to always know where every single fuckin’ safehouse is?” Soap finds himself grumbling, but noticing that Ghost is already moving ahead, he shouts out a quick hey! and starts jogging to keep up with the man, afraid to be left behind (but secretly knowing that at this point, Ghost would never, no matter how many times he threatens to do so).

After trekking uphill for several miles and then proceeding to venture further into a heavily wooded area, secluded by tall trees and located near a large lake stands an almost unassuming cabin. The curtains to the house are open, but despite him moving closer, it turns out the glass had been tinted to the point where Soap’s unable to peek inside. He can only assume that whoever stays inside would be able to observe what’s happening unbeknownst to the people outside.

“You sure this place is safe?” Soap asks, glancing around. Sure, it’s isolated, and he trusts Ghost’s judgment, but fuck. It kind of sucks not being in the know for things as simple as safehouse locations.

“I sure would hope so.” Ghost grumbles, pulling out a key to stick into the front door’s lock. “It’s my house, after all.”

It’s silly to assume that Ghost doesn’t have a home. As a matter of fact, Soap has (many times) joked about the fact that Ghost probably lives up to his call name and takes refuge in a mausoleum in between missions. Still, Soap finds it a bit interesting to be inside the “Riley Residence” as he called it.

(Ghost just stared at him with those eyes that reflected nothing but exasperation before mumbling that he was going upstairs.)

There’s a large fireplace in the living room, and throw pillows that look soft to the touch resting on the couches. The whole entire cabin smells of something sweet, like cinnamon and sugar. Maybe looks can be deceiving; Soap didn’t take Ghost as the type of guy to burn candles in his cabin.

Then again… Ghost isn’t dumb enough to leave candles burning in his home especially if he knows that he’ll be gone for an extended period of time. How long has it been since Ghost went upstairs? He didn’t hear anything unusual, but Soap’s suddenly on high alert. Could there be someone else present? How safe is this place, really?

With one hand gripping his knife, Soap enters further into the cabin. He’s never seen a safehouse so decorated; the agents must have had too much free time on their hands when assembling this one. They even went through the trouble of adding faux personal touches to the place, like current magazines stacked on counters and fuzzy slippers left in the hallway.

(He glances at the pair of house shoes, thinking they’re Ghost’s but realizing that they’re much too small to belong to the bloody giant.)

As Soap nears what he assumes to be the kitchen, he catches sight of movement happening within his peripheral, and he’s quick to whip around to confront the intruder.

He’s met with the terrified screams of a woman, and before he can truly process what’s happening, he hears the unmistakable, thunderous footsteps of Ghost. His fellow operative’s got a gun in his hand and a worried look in his eyes as he examines the scene in front of him.

“What’s wrong? Is everything alright?”

It’s not Soap that he’s asking; instead, Ghost is immediately by your side, tucking away his gun so he can wrap his arm around you.

Your chest is still visibly rising and falling with every breath you take as you try to recover from the shock of witnessing a man with a mohawk waving a knife around in your own home. You stare at Soap, giving him a weak smile as you reassure Ghost.

“Yes, honey, everything’s fine. I was just caught off guard. I didn’t know I should have been expecting a guest.” You’ve seemed to recover quickly, and this time you offer him a real smile as you introduce yourself.

Your last name is Riley.

And while Soap prides himself on being plenty observant, he still can’t quite piece together the insanely easy puzzle in front of him. Ghost refuses to leave your side. You called the scary masked man honey. You’ve got a thin gold band adorning your left hand’s ring finger, and there’s an unmistakable baby bump protruding from the thin fabric of your nightgown.

It’s not that Soap isn’t able to realize what’s in front of him.

It’s the fact that Soap can’t believe that someone like Ghost could ever possibly have something so… normal.

A nice, cozy little home. A cute, pregnant wife. No wonder he had been so reluctant in taking the two of them here to spend the night! He’s been trying to keep you a secret this whole time.

That bloody bastard.

Ghost isn’t nearly as forgiving as you, and he’s still glaring at Soap.

“Fucking hell, Soap. I let you in my house, and the first thing you decide to do is terrify my wife. What the fuck?”

“Simon!” You gasp out, tugging at your husband’s arm. “It’s not his fault. I didn’t hear the two of you come in. He didn’t know about me because you didn’t even tell him I existed!”

“Why would he need to know? Nosy bastard’s already always in my business.” Ghost grumbles, and you slap his arm.

“I am so sorry, Soap.” You apologize on behalf of your husband (who doesn’t look the least bit sorry whatsoever). “Let me get the guest bedroom set up for you—”

“—I already did.” Ghost says, and his gaze seems to soften when his eyes land on yours and then moves downwards to focus on the baby bump. “You don’t need to be straining yourself.”

For the next few days, they lay low in an attempt to tire out their enemies or at least get them off their backs. These few days have been nothing but a series of revelations for Soap.

For example, who would have thought that Ghost has a lovely little wife at home who he absolutely worships? He’s caught the man massaging your feet, forcing you to let him wash the dishes, and Soap doesn’t even want to know the reason why the two of you so long in the shower. (Ghost would probably kill him if he ever did try to find out.)

Every single morning, the two of you cook breakfast together. He kisses you (forehead, cheeks, lips — just depends on what’s the most accessible at the moment) every time he walks by you. You’ll say, honey, can you bring me a glass of water? but he’s already making his way towards you, glass in hand, because he’s so attuned to you.

Every glimpse of Ghost’s secret domestic life feels too intimate for Soap to watch; he almost feels as if he’s intruding on a private moment, even when the two of you are doing something as simple as being near each other.

(Do you know that every time you move just the slightest bit, Ghost mirrors the action, adjusting his body accordingly so that it’s always shielding yours?)

“You look like you’ve been dying for the chance to ask me a couple of questions,” you set down a mug of hot tea in front of Soap before sliding into the seat across from him. Ghost is out back chopping firewood, and while you usually enjoy watching the way his arms flex and his muscular back just absolutely tighten up every time he hacks up the wood, you know that Soap will never get a chance to talk to you in private.

“Was I that obvious?” He grins, feeling more relaxed whenever you laugh. You’re an awfully nice person; too nice to survive in their world, and probably too nice for the city, too. No wonder Ghost keeps you tucked away in this cabin.

“I’d be more surprised if you didn’t have any questions about our relationship.”

“I guess that’s true, huh? So, uh, how’d you two meet?” Soap can’t exactly picture a teenage Ghost with a high school crush.

“He saved my life.” There’s a healthy glow to your skin; it might stem from the pregnancy, but you simply seem to brighten up even more when you talk about your husband. “You know, you were there too!”

“I was?” He takes a closer look at you, but he can’t recognize you in any of his memories. You’re certainly beautiful, and he’s sure that if he really did meet you, he would at least remember you by now.

“Don’t worry, I think Simon will prefer it if you didn’t know me at all, anyway.” Your fingers wrap around your own mug, warming up your cold hands. “Don’t let him fool you, though. He’s such a big softie.”

Soap has watched your “big softie” stab men to death quicker than he can blink his eyes. If it was a rescue mission where the two of you met, he’s almost certain that you must have seen his less-than-sweet side as well.

“You think he’d kill me if I started tellin’ everyone what a big softie he is?”

“He’d let you get away with it. You’re one of his friends, after all.”

“Wait, what?”

“C’mon, Soap. You and I both know Simon pretty well. He’s not above sleeping in the woods. He wouldn’t have brought someone here he didn’t trust. And you might not have known I existed, but we talk about you sometimes.”

“All good things, I hope.”

“It’s Simon.” You say, simply shrugging. “I’m sure he saves the worst for when the two of you are face to face.”

“Has he ever taken the mask off with you?”

You beckon Soap to lean forward just like you, and with your elbows on the table and both of you with your heads low, you whisper conspiratorially, “I take it off for him.”

The two of you are still laughing when Ghost walks in.

You pack both of them lunches before sending them back on their way, waving farewell from the front door, one hand resting on your stomach. You and Simon already had a private sendoff; away from the prying eyes of your visitor, Simon kneels down to give a gentle kiss to your belly, staring in wonder as he feels the slightest kick in return.

“Be a good boy for mommy,” is what he whispers before returning back to his full height. It’s hard to hug you with all his tactical gear getting in the way, but he’s stubborn.

Walking out the door and leaving you and his child behind is always hard. You tell Soap to come back any time (Simon’s stare told him that that invitation would not be valid under his watch).

Soap promises he will, and Ghost just has to respect that because he’s already been kind enough to turn a blind eye to the obvious longing in Ghost’s eyes as he leaves you.

“So, Lt., tell me. I must be your favorite, eh?”

“Favorite what? Pain in the fucking ass?” Ghost retorts. The two of them have a long walk ahead of them.

“Am I the first on the force to meet your girl?”

Ghost’s silence is confirmation enough.

“I knew it! I am your favorite on the force.”

“Shut up.”

(Ghost doesn’t necessarily dispute the claim, though.)

[really-fanny-longbottom]

Second Chance [Part Two]

Pairings: Inner Circle x Reader, Azriel x Reader

Summary: Feyre finally meets Rhysand's favorite person.

Warnings: Slightly suggestive and tons of fluff.

Words: 2.9k

A/n: Hi! So, as promised, here is part two. I hope you like it just as much as the first one. I also want to thank you guys for your support and comments. It made me really happy.

The flight to the House of Wind was a quick one. Feyre recently learned that she loved to fly. She loved the light of the sun on her skin, the sweet breeze on her hair, but most of all, the view. Feyre was in Rhys' arms. He held her tight against his chest while she gazed at the city below her. She would never get tired of this view or the sounds. There were children laughing and playing by the Sidra, musicians playing melodies while some couples danced around, artists painting and people walking through the market buying fresh vegetables, flowers, among other things.

Cassian was flying ahead of them, and he, too, was enjoying the view of the City of Starlight.

A few minutes later, the House of Wind came into sight. They made their way towards the house and landed on the balcony that was connected to the kitchen. Rhys set Feyre back on the floor, and the three of them headed towards the threshold of the balcony and entered the House.

As soon as they entered the kitchen, they could hear the laughter and the voices of the Inner Circle through the hallway that led to the main living room. Cassian was the first to move, Rhys went to follow his brother when he realized that Feyre hadn't moved from her spot by the entrance of the balcony. 

He turned around to approach her, and a frown made its way to his face. "What's wrong? Are you ok?"

"I...hum..." Feyre realized at that moment that she was nervous to meet you. You weren't just someone. You are Rhys and Cassian's little sister. You are Azriel's best friend and probably something more. Rhys didn't mention your relationship with Amren and Mor while they talked about you, but she had absolutely no doubt that you were equally loved, cared, and important to them as well. 

She didn't want to make a bad impression. She didn't want to disappoint you, but more importantly, she didn't want you to dislike her. She hadn't thought about these things before, but now that she was here, only a hallway and seconds, maybe minutes away from meeting you? Feyre couldn't help but wonder what would happen if things didn't go as well as she wanted. What if she said something wrong and ended up hurting your feelings? She had no doubt that Amren would rip her head off if she dared to hurt you in any way. 

Rhys hand waved in front of her face and broke her from her worries and doubts. She met his violet eyes and saw concern in his face. Rhys spoke before she could. "Are you ok? I just called you three times, and you didn't even move." 

"I'm fine," Feyre said with a weak smile that didn't reach her eyes. The look on Rhys face told her that she didn't convince him. 

"Are you sure? You look a little pale, and your heartbeat is really fast." Rhys insisted, trying to make her talk to him so he could help her with whatever was troubling her.

Feyre bit her lower lip, something she had always done when she was nervous since she was a child. "I think.." Feyre paused, releasing a long breath before she continued. "I'm nervous to meet Y/N. What if I make a bad impression and she doesn't like me?"

Rhys gaze softens at her worries, and the frown is replaced by a smile on his lips. Putting a hand on her shoulder in order to provide her a little comfort, Rhys replies, "I can assure you that you have nothing to worry about. Y/N is sweet and kind, funny and sometimes a little loud" Rhys chuckles, earning a giggle from Feyre, "she's very talkative, like really but really talkative, your only worry should be at the fact that there's a very high chance that once she starts talking with you, she'll never shut up." 

Feyre can't help the laughter that erupts from her, smacking his bicep. She says, "Stop it."

"I'm serious! She talks a lot, she also loves to hear herself talk but," Feyre laughs more and Rhys joins her, a big smile on his lips "that's one of the reasons why she's such a good emissary. But seriously, Y/N gets along with everyone, even Beron, believe it or not. In all the years that I have known her, she never disliked anyone." 

Feyre relaxed immediately, her worries and doubts completely forgotten. "How old is she, by the way? I meant to ask you that earlier, but Cassian came into the room before I had the chance." 

"She's 122. She's still young." Rhys says with a hint of irony in his voice.

Feyre chuckled, replying with the same irony. "Right, young." 

Rhys opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, a new set of laughters sounded from down the hallway, making both of them look in the direction of the sound. Rhys turned again and met Feyre's gaze. "Ready?" 

She gave a firm nod and added, "Yes. Let's go meet the girl that gave you those." Feyre mentioned while gesturing to his hand where the tooth bites lay.

Rhys could only chuckle before he turned around and guided the way towards the living room where his family awaited, Feyre following him.

When Rhys passes the threshold to the living room, Feyre stops just for a second to give a deep breath before doing the same.

The moment she walked in, she saw you immediately. Your back was facing them. You were in the middle of your family, and you were talking with Amren while pointing at a jewelry box she held in her hand. A pair of earrings shined inside of the box. Rhys was only a few steps ahead of her when he called you by your nickname, "Little star." Feyre couldn't see his face, but she didn't need to. She knew that the only thing on his features at that moment was love.

You turned your head around at the sound of your big brother's voice. "Rhys!" Was the only thing you managed to say before you started running in his direction.

Rhys opened his arms, and you jumped into his embrace, holding him tightly around his neck while he held you back, spinning you around in the process. 

Rhys put you down and kissed your cheek. "I missed you." He said.

"Rhys, I have only been gone for six days." You responded with a scoff and rolled your eyes. 

Rhys chucked at your antics, "How was Winter Court?"

"Cold and snowy." You answered, earning chuckles from your family at your irony. "It was good, you'll have a report on your desk tomorrow morning."

Rhys nodded before asking you, "Why did you return earlier? We were expecting you in only a few hours," Rhys questioned.

"Because I'm amazing at my job," you said. Amusement all over your face, your family scoffed, and Rhys lifted an eyebrow at you, clearly knowing there was another reason for your early arrival. You sighed, accepting defeat, "And because Kallias and Viviane are newly mated, and I didn't want to be a witness of their frenzy bonding in case I ended up seeing something that I really shouldn't." 

Your family laughed, and it was now Mor's turn to talk. "Oh, you poor baby, still traumatized from walking in on Cassian with that pretty nymph?"

"Ugh! Please don't remind me of that. I swear I had nightmares because of it." You protested.

"Hey, no one told you to enter without knocking first. Lesson learned, sister." Cassian told you while ruffling your hair.

You swat his hand and look at him. "What are you talking about, Cass? You guys were in Rhys office. You weren't even supposed to be there in the first place." You turned to look at your other brother who happened to have his mouth open at the new information, obviously unknown to him. "I hope you cleaned every surface and thing you have there." You paused for a second before speaking again. "You know what? Thinking better, you should just replace everything. It may be safer that way." You finished with a disgusted face.

"What?!" Rhys asked with a firm voice. His High Lord voice. 

Cassian shot you an irritating look. "Dammed you Y/N. He didn't know that." Your only response was an innocent smile.

Rhys moved to his left in order to get an explanation from the events that occurred in his office, making Feyre enter your camp of vision, and that's when you locked eyes with her.

You approached her and started the conversation. "Hi, you must be Feyre. I'm Y/N." You said while extending your hand to her and offering a sweet smile.

Feyre grabbed your hand and shook it. "It's so nice to finally meet you." She told you while smiling.

Now, with Rhys out of the way, Feyre was able to have a better look at you. And Cauldron, Feyre couldn't take her eyes off you. You were beautiful, your white hair was loose and curled down to your waist, your blue eyes, and your slightly pale skin. And then, your dress. The dress was white and light blue, the skirt reached your feet and had a pattern in waves that reminded of snow, the sleeves went all the way to your wrists, fluffy white fur laid at the ends of your skirt and sleeves. You looked like an angel. 

"Thank you." You answered with a warm smile, and it was only then that Feyre realized she said that out loud. A hint of confusion settled at your face when you asked her, "Did Azriel tell you to say that?"

Now, it was Feyre's turn to be confused. Why would you think that? "No, he didn't. Why?"

"Oh, it's just...hum," you paused, your cheeks starting to blush a little. "That's what he calls me. It's his nickname for me." You answered, a little more blushed than before.

Feyre laughed. Azriel was right in calling you that. "I thought your nickname was 'Little star'." Feyre responded amused.

You chuckled and replied, "That's the nicknames the others use for me. Except Amren. She keeps calling me 'child'." You said with a roll of your eyes. 

"Because you are a child." Amren answered you from her place next to Mor while she was contemplating the earrings in the jewelry box. Rhys and Cassian still arguing about the office events and Azriel watching them amused.

You turned your head to her. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Granny." You said with amusement in your voice.

Feyre stilled for a moment. Thinking that Amren was about to launch herself on you for what you just called her, but then she saw Amren laugh with a genuine smile on her lips before returning to stare at the earrings. Feyre relaxed and joined the laughter while looking at Amren's earrings.

You followed Feyre's gaze, and that's when you remembered. "Oh, right." You returned your eyes to Feyre. "Wait for a moment." You told her.

Feyre saw you turn back around towards the couch from where you pulled a dark purple bag and a small box.

You walked to Rhys and extended your arm to give him the bag. "Your gift." You said and planted a kiss on his cheek.

Rhys thanked you for your gift, giving you a quick kiss on your forehead, and returned to argue with Cassian. You made your way to Feyre, and when you reached her, you gave her the small box. "Here. It's for you."

Feyre accepted it, with surprise all over her face. She studied the box for a moment. It was a simple box made of wood and on top of it had a mountain with three stars above. The insignia of the Night Court. She looked at you again. "You brought me a gift?"

"Of course. I couldn't just bring gifts to everyone else and not one for you." You explained with a smile.

Feyre returned the smile, at your kindness, she asked with curiosity dancing in her eyes. "What is it?"

"It's a music box. To help you with your nightmares." Feyre stilled at your words, and after a few seconds, you continued. "It has all of Velaris' melodies. There's a few from the other courts, too, but it's mostly Velaris. It's enchanted so it can play for as long as you want or need. The melodies are soft and calm, so it will help you sleep and keep the nightmares away."

Feyre had no words. She didn't know what to say. Just a few minutes ago, she was worrying about you not liking her, but here you are, offering her one of the best gifts she has ever received.

Those worries and doubts seemed silly now. Her eyes darted to the music box again, but she looked up at the sound of your voice.

"Azriel gave me one a few years ago. I used to have nightmares about my childhood and also from some of the things I saw over the decades as a consequence of being part of this world. I had hard nights where I couldn't sleep, haunted by those nightmares. So Azriel, ever the Spymaster, gave me one of these," you said, gesturing to the box.

"I have played it every night since. It brings me comfort and reminds me that I'm safe and I'm not alone. I gave one to Rhys after he came back from Under the Mountain. It helped him a lot, so I thought of doing the same thing for you." You ended with the warmest smile.

Feyre's eyes were filled with tears at your gesture, she couldn't get any words out, so she just nodded and then opened the box. A soft and sweet melodie reached her ears, and Feyre immediately recognized the sound. It was the music that Rhys showed her that night on the cell Under the Mountain. The music that saved her life.

Feyre closed the box and launched for you, involving you in a tight embrace, one that you didn't hesitate to reciprocate. She still didn't have any words, so she said the only thing she could at the moment. "Thank you." She squeezed you even more. "Thank you so much." 

You held her for a few more seconds before letting go. You grabbed her free hand and said, "Mor and I are going shopping this afternoon. Why don't you come with us? I'd love to get to know you more."

"Yes. I'd love that, too. Thank you." Feyre answered, her voice trembling a little at the emotions she was still feeling. You squeezed her hand one last time before releasing and moved to stand next to Azriel. 

Rhys approached Feyre. "So, how did it go?"

Feyre could only smile, "Amazing. She's amazing. You and Cass raised her well."

Rhys chuckled, "Thank you, but we can't take all the credit. That's just how she is." Rhys nudged her with his shoulder, "I told you, you had nothing to worry about." 

Feyre smiled and squeezed the box that she still held. "Yeah, you were right." She said while looking at him. He was indeed right. You were sweet, kind and funny. Feyre noticed when she first walked into the room, how comfortable and relaxed everyone seemed around you. How little of an effort you had to make in order to make them laugh or smile, how the air was lighter and brighter, and how you illuminated the room just by your presence.

They fell in a comfortable silence, Feyre looked forward, and that's when she saw it. 

She couldn't believe it at first. She blinked her eyes a couple of times to make sure it was real and it was.

Feyre remembers Mor telling her about Azriel. How he is more quiet, reserved, discret, and colder than the rest of them. Always with a stoic and indifference in his face and a rigid composure and she even saw that Azriel in the last days since she arrived in Velaris.

But that's not the Azriel that is standing just a few feet away from her.

No, this is a different Azriel. His shoulders are relaxed, there's a bright smile on his face, a softness in his eyes and his arm is around your waist with his hand resting on your hip, holding you close to him while he's looking at you talking about your last days in the Winter Court.

This is not the Shadowsinger or the Spymaster.

This is Azriel, just Azriel.

The shadows are dancing around your feet and ankles, like they are happy too for your return, happy that you are safe and back to their master's side. Feyre knows at this moment that you two are not just friends and that there has to be something more going on.

Her suspicions were confirmed a few hours later at night when she decided to go to the library for a book so she could practice her reading before going to bed but ended up finding you and Azriel instead.

He was sitting on the couch with his hands on your hips while you sat in his lap, straddling his waist, your hands on his hair while you two made out.

And by the way both your cheeks were flushed, Feyre knew that you had been kissing each other for a while.

A/n: Thank you for reading! I was thinking about mabye making a part about the night the batboys found the reader?

Masterlist

Taglist: @emryb @fantasyandshit @azrielover @shadowsingercassia @brieflyclassymortal @lilah-asteria @lure-of-writing @pruvii

*if you asked to be tagged and you weren't, it's because I couldn't find your blog.

the beautiful dividers belong to @cafekitsune

[sentientcave]

Retirement Party

Price has retired from Military life, and he's not handling the change well. But on the one year anniversary of him hanging it up, his boys bring him something special to help keep him busy. You.

Chapter One - The Perfect Gift

Next Chapter >

Contains: No Y/N (Reader is an OC), Kidnapping, Stalking, Drugging, Forcible relocation, Generally creepy behaviour, Threats (open-ended), I guess this might count as human trafficking?, Dubcon everything because Reader is terrified (non-sexual), plus-sized reader, fem/afab reader, There is something fucking wrong with these guys for real.

~3.2k - MDNI - Dark fic! Please mind the content warning above

"I told ye, she's perfect," Soap said, eyes on the window across the street. They could see you puttering around your living room, wearing a pretty flower print dress as you tidied up. "Good with bairns too, met her when I was pickin' up the niece and nephew from school. She was workin' for some rich family, an' they let her go because the wife found a pair of her knickers in her husband's briefcase." He snickered. He'd been the one to put them there, although, in his opinion, he’d been pushing the bounds for a long while anyway. Sure he’d essentially cast you adrift, jobless and with no one looking out for you, but, well, they were looking after you now, weren’t they? So it wasn’t all that bad.

"Good job, pup," Ghost said fondly, ruffling Johnny's hair. "Captain's gonna love 'er."

"How do you lads want to play it?" Gaz asked. "Could go in tonight. Won’t take much to knock her out, pack up her things, take her to the cabin. Get her nice and situated for when Price gets back."

"No point in waitin', is there?" Ghost asked. "Nice she's on the ground floor. Makes takin' 'er things easier. I'll go round 'n' check the windows in a bit. Should wait till after midnight. Don't want to be spotted by the neighbours."

"No' much risk o' tha'," Soap said. "Knocked over a bunch of bins last I was here and the cunts didna even turn on a light. Just the bonnie thing worryin’ while the rest of ‘em sleep sound."

Gaz lit a cigarette, nodding thoughtfully. "Small apartment too. Is there much to move?"

Soap shook his head. "Nah, no' much. Sweet girl lives simply. I told ye, she's perfect for the captain. He'll be able to spoil the fuck out of her, once she's broken in, aye?"

"Know 'e'll like that. Man needs a wife to dote on. ‘e’s been goin’ a bit crazy, all alone. An' 'e can train'er up nice."

"Think he might share?" Gaz asked wistfully, exhaling a stream of thin smoke as he sighed. "Nice soft girl like that-- Plenty to go around."

Ghost laughed. "Thought we'd 'ave trouble gettin' Johnny to keep 'is 'ands to 'imself, and you're the one droolin'."

"Scuse me for having eyes, mate. Just think she looks sweet."

"We'll get to see first 'and soon.” Ghost clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on lads. Let's get ready."

You wake up on the hard metal floor of a moving vehicle, your pounding head cradled in someone's hands. That's what you notice first, and the thumbs rubbing circles against your neck soothingly.

It has the opposite effect. Your eyes fly open.

“Hi, bonnie,” a somewhat familiar face grins down at you, blue eyes smiling, but too intense, glittering in the low light that filters in from the windows at the front of the truck. “How’s yer head?”

You grimace, trying to make sense of what’s going on around you. The back of the van seems to be filled with boxes. “Aren’t you Finn and Rory’s uncle?”

“Aw, ye remember me? Knew ye were a sweetheart.”

You try to sit up, but Johnny puts a strong hand on your shoulder and keeps you where you are. Your head feels too heavy to try and fight him, your muscles weak. “What’s going on?” you ask. “What— Is this a kidnapping?”

“Tha’s an ugly word, bonnie. We’re doin’ ye a favour, really. Settin’ ye up with someone respectable. Captain’ll take good care of ye.” He pats your cheek. “Whyna get back to sleep? Still a ways to go, aye?”

Maybe it’s just a bad, weird dream. You do feel foggy, like you’re not fully attached to your body, and keeping your eyes open is a struggle. You’ll wake up back in your own bed, and have a funny story to tell if you ever bump into Johnny again. He’s definitely too nice to be a kidnapper, right? Like, people don’t really do that sort of thing. It has to be a dream.

“Okay,” you mumble, letting your eyes close again.

As you suspected, you wake up again in bed. The headache’s receded some, and there’s warm sunlight streaming in through the windows. You bury your face into the pillows, and then bolt upright. The pillow smells weird, like sweet tobacco and spice, and you don’t get morning sun in your bedroom. The window faces a brick wall across a narrow alley.

The room you’re in now is not your room. It’s sparsely furnished, just a dresser under the window and the bed you’re tucked into, and two doors, one that’s clearly a closet, and one that must lead out into the rest of the… house? Judging by the sound of birdsong outside, you’re out of the city.

You pad to the window and look out. There’s a van in the driveway, and three men carrying things in. One of them looks up and spots you in the window, waving cheerfully.

Not a dream. Fear grips you, ice sliding down your spine, shards settling in your stomach, needling and uncomfortable. Your sinuses prickle like you’re about to cry, but no tears come. You’re too dehydrated to summon them. It’s hard to tell how long you’ve been out— It’s fully daylight outside, but you have no idea what time. A second look around the room finds a digital clock sitting on the nightstand, 3:05 glaring back at you in red.

There’s a knock on the door, and it pushes open. The man who walks in is handsome, smiling at you so beautifully that your automatic response is to try and smile back, although you feel that it’s flimsy, unsure. There’s no chance that this man is here to help you, but you at least hope he’s not here to hurt you either.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks. His voice is as pleasant as his face is, smooth and cheerful, although it makes you wary about him on principle. “You hungry?”

You shake your head. It’s not true, but you can’t trust that there wouldn’t be drugs in anything they give you.

“Well, come on downstairs, hm? Get some water at least. Maybe a tea?”

Your stomach churns. “I might be sick,” you manage to squeak out. He quickly ushers you out into the hall and into a bathroom. You don’t make it to the toilet, but you do manage to make it to the sink. If you had a little more fire in you, you might have tried to vomit bile onto the pretty man’s shoes, but it’s hard to shake the instinct to be good, not to make any trouble, to hope that they’ll just let you go. You’re not even sure what they want. You have no family to ransom, you don’t have any money to speak of, you’re just a fat little ex-nanny still paying off an English Literature degree from a second-rate college.

You turn on the sink to wash away the sick, and rinse your mouth out. Your hands start shaking when you realize your toothbrush is sitting in the holder next to the sink, like it belongs there. Your makeup bag is sitting on the counter too, and when you look down, you realize you’re standing on your own bathmat, taken from your home and arranged here, as if effects from your own house are supposed to make you feel comfortable. You look at your reflection in the mirror, and then at the man still standing in the doorway, his brown eyes all concern, as if he wasn’t party to a fucking nightmare.

You straighten up, gripping the counter to steady yourself. “What the hell is this?” you ask, trying to inject some authority into your quaking voice. “Who are you? What do you want from me?”

“I’m Gaz. Nice to meet you. Johnny had lots of nice things to say about you.”

So that hadn’t been a dream either. You look around the room desperately, looking for anything that could possibly be used as a weapon, but Gaz seems to know exactly what you’re doing, and he steps into your space quickly to grab your hands.

“None of that. Come on. You’ll feel better after a tea, yeah? Then you can get ready to meet the captain.”

He leads you downstairs. Questions spin around your head, but you’re not sure if it’s worth asking. Gaz only bothered to respond to one of the three you’ve asked so far, and it wasn’t the one that you were most interested in an answer to. So you stay quiet instead, taking in the layout of the big room. A front door and a back door, and windows that look out onto a forest on one side of the property, and more forest on the other side, beyond a large cleared space with a neat garden and a few fruit trees. There’s a second building that you can just see the corner of from the kitchen window, more likely a garage than a neighbour.

Gaz backs you up against the counter and leans down slightly, his hands gripping your thighs. You panic, the touch surprising you, and slap him across the face. The sharp sound makes you freeze, like it wasn’t you that had done it. He takes advantage of your surprise to shove you up onto the counter and grab both your hands with one of his, all the friendliness draining our of his eyes in an instant as he points a scolding finger at you. You feel like you’ve done something naughty that you’re not fully aware of the implications of yet, a badly trained dog or a child. “I’m going to let that one slide, because I understand that this is a big change for you. But you’re not going to like what happens if you try that again, understood?”

You nod quickly, your own eyes wide. “I-I’m sorry,” you say, the instinct for appeasement rearing it’s skittish little head.

And then the smile returns, as pretty as before, storm clouds blowing away as though they’d never been there to begin with. “It’s alright, doll. Just don’t do it again. And definitely don’t try that attitude on with the captain.” He taps the pointing finger against your nose playfully, and lets your hands drop back into your lap.

The rules seem simple enough. Be good and sweet, and get friendly faces in return, to a degree. No matter how cooperative you are, you doubt they’re going to let you go home. Fighting back means consequences, and you’re not sure how far those consequences will extend. If you’re too much trouble, it’s not a stretch to imagine that they’ll just kill you outright and try again with a meeker woman. You don’t yet know if death would be the more preferable outcome.

You pull your sweater down over your thighs. The black zip-up hoodie isn’t yours (the word Riley is stitched onto the front of it), but it’s big, and even though it smells faintly of cigarettes, it affords you at least a little modesty and comfort, more than the tank top and the sleep-shorts you’re wearing underneath do. Riley must be the third man. Was he the captain? Or was there a fourth one somewhere?

Johnny comes through the door carrying your suitcases, and he grins widely when he sees you, the charming, boyish one that you’d thought was handsome before. It’s only unnerving now. “Didja have a good sleep, bonnie?”

“You drugged me,” you accuse.

“Weel, of course. You were no’ goan ta come all peaceable, and LT wouldna be patient if ye were cryin’ the whole way here.” He trots upstairs, and you can hear him drop the bags with a thump, before he’s clattering back down the steps and leaning against the counter next to you. “How’d’ye like yer new home, bonnie? S’a nice place, aye? Better than tha’ little shoebox back in the city.”

“I like my apartment,” you protest.

“Psh, ye’d say tha’. Puttin’ on a brave face since yer such a good girl. But it wasna verra safe, was it? No’ a single neighbour paid us any mind while we were loadin’ up yer things. No’ a good place for a single girl, aye?” He reaches out and puts a big hand on your knee, squeezing lightly. “Now ye’ll be taken care of, like ye should be.”

“I don’t want to be taken care of.”

“Nonsense. Ye’ll be glad, once ye get used to things. Already looks real homey in here, don’t ye think?” He gestures at the living room.

You twist to look, and your stomach sinks. Your throw pillows are on the couch, one of the afghans you crocheted hanging over the back of it. You recognize the titles of your books on the shelves. These men were nothing if not thorough, surgically removing your entire life and transplanting it to this house in the woods, with it’s wood panel walls and big, overstuffed leather couches.

He continues blithely, like he’s not delivering some of the most horrifying news you’ve ever heard. “Most of your furniture’s in the garage, ye can sort tha’ out with Price, aye? But we brought all yer clothes and decorations and whatnot in. Figure ye should wear tha’ pretty black sundress, an’ those long stockin’s with the clippy belt, ye ken the one? Cap’ll like those.”

They’d been through all your things. If you had anything left to throw up, you might’ve again. Gaz sets a glass of water on the counter next to you. “How d’you take your tea, doll?”

“Milk, two sugars,” Johnny answers for you. “Our sweet lass has a sweet tooth, aye?”

“How do you know that?” You can hear the quiver in your voice, and it doesn’t slip by either of them.

“Come oan, hen, ye ken I didna jus’ pick ye off the street. Did my research. Wouldna pick just anyone for the captain.”

“When he said he’d found the perfect girl, we didn’t believe him at first,” Gaz says, leaning against the counter on the other side of the kitchen while the tea steeps. “But Ghost and I knew he was right, soon as we saw you.” He nods at the glass. “Drink your water. You haven’t had anything since last night.”

“Is it drugged?” you ask flatly.

“No, want ye awake for when Price gets here. Yer a real cute thing asleep, but we want him ta hear yer pretty voice and see that smile, aye?” Johnny reaches past you and picks up the glass of water, taking a big swig to demonstrate it’s harmlessness.

You take a careful sip when he hands it back to you, and then another, resisting the urge to just gulp the whole thing down. The door opens again, and the biggest man you’ve seen in your life walks in, wearing a black t-shirt and a mask with the jaw of a skull printed on it, pulled up over the lower half of his face. He looks at you dispassionately, and then at Gaz and Johnny. “What the ‘ell have you two muppets been sayin’ to the poor thing?” he asks, his voice rumbling like an avalanche. “She looks like she’s gonna faint.”

“Figure she’s just peaky,” Gaz says defensively. “I’m making her tea.”

The big guy swats Johnny’s hand away from your knee impatiently, and cages you in against the counter, one huge arm on either side of you. “How’re you feelin’ bird? Be honest.”

“Terrified,” you admit.

He chuckles. “Sensible, considerin’. But you don’t need to worry, olright? No one’s gonna hurt you, so long as you’re good. And you want to be good, don’t you, bird?”

You nod. You’d thought Gaz and Johnny were big, but this one’s huge, broad and tall and even scarier. It’s clear why they started off introducing themselves to you in the order they did. If this man had been the first thing you’d seen after waking up you probably would have gone into hysterics.

“Use your words, pet.”

“I want to be good,” you say obediently, because you don’t see any other options, at least for the moment.

“Good girl,” he says, and there’s the slightest hint of a smile in his dark eyes.

Somehow, this is the most comforting thing that you’ve experienced all day. You won’t be hurt if you’re good, and you are being good.

He pushes back from the counter slightly, giving you more space, takes the mug of tea from Gaz, and hands it off to you. “Small sips,” he instructs. “And maybe a biscuit, if you think you can keep it down.”

“Are you the captain?” you ask nervously, gripping the mug with two hands.

“Hm? No. ‘e’s still about an hour out. I’m Simon. Ghost to these two.” He fishes an open package of biscuits out of the cupboard and sets them next to you. “Once you finish your tea, we’ll get you ready. Want to make a good first impression, right bird?”

“Not really,” you admit. “I’d like to go home.”

He laughs, at least finding your honesty amusing. “That won’t be ‘appenin’. If Price dun’t want you, I’ll keep you myself. But I’ll tell you right now, you’ll like Price better. If you’re good for him, he’ll be real good to you, understood?”

You bite your tongue. It won’t do you any good to point out that a man that would accept a person as a gift is probably not capable of being good to anyone. Good is subjective, and the three men in front of you are lunatics. Their captain probably has the slightest bit stronger a grasp on his sanity, or a consistent moral code, if not a particularly righteous one. So you just keep your mouth shut, and drink your tea, and eat two chocolate digestives while Gaz and Johnny start collecting things to make dinner.

As soon as you set your empty mug to the side Ghost pops you down from the counter and ushers you upstairs with a big hand placed a little too low on your back. He tells you what to wear (down to the lingerie), but blessedly doesn’t insist on watching you get dressed. He does sit on the edge of the tub and watch you put on makeup, however, requesting red lipstick and winged eyeliner. Your hands are still a little shaky, but you manage to do as he asks. His eyes smile at you just a little when you’re obedient. You feel pathetic for not making a fuss, but you’re not sure what you can possibly do, except something stupid that will make them angry enough to hurt you.

He helps you into a pair of strappy red heels that had been languishing in the back of your closet before they dug everything out, and straightens the seam of your stockings, running his big hands up your calves. It’s like you’re a doll, dressed just how he wants, something to look pretty and say less than nothing, a gift for some other man you’ve never met to keep on a shelf.

Or worse, to play with.

You hear Johnny and Gaz greet someone downstairs, their voices loud and excited, and your heart skips nervously.

Ghost rises to his feet, smiling so big you can see it even with the mask. “Wait right here, pet,” he says firmly, leaving you sitting on the edge of the bed while he goes off to greet his captain. “Want to introduce you proper.”

So you sit, and you wait, shaking and nervous, for what feels like eternity, until you hear Simon’s surprisingly light footfalls on the stairs again. He offers you a hand, and hoists you over his shoulder as soon as you’re on your feet, carrying you down into the living room.

“We all pitched in,” Gaz says, as casually as if he meant throwing in five dollars for a card. “But she was Soap’s idea.”

“Picked ‘er out special, Cap,” Johnny says. “She’s perfect for ye.”

“She?” an unfamiliar voice asks. “Don’t tell me you got me a dog.”

“Better than that, skipper.” Ghost laughs as he circles around the couch, and drops you carefully into the man’s lap, stepping into line with the other two. “We got you a wife.”

I've been low-key thinking about this concept since I read ohbo-ohno's Don't Leave Me Locked in Your Heart a while back (If you haven't read and you like a good dark fic, you should click that link, you may enjoy it). I think getting someone a person as a gift, or being given as a gift, rather, is a fun fucked up fantasy to explore. I'm not entirely sure where I'll take this but I promise to put in content warnings. Let me know if I miss something, I don't want anyone to be surprised by what they find!

Image Credits: Banner

Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune

[justkindalivin]

Roommate trouble

summary: Your roommate Jesse and his girlfriend Dina fuck..a lot. loudly. When you finally get fed up after being woken up by their nightly “activities”, you go to Dina’s dorm for some peace and quiet only to run into her roommate, Ellie. 

warnings: Smut (18+ PLZ), Language, modern!au, college!au, making out, thigh riding, fingering (r rec), oral (r rec), dom!ellie, teasing, sub!reader, not edited well (I can’t think of anything else but lmk if you find something I forgot!)  

wc: 2.7k 

an: HEY YALL!! It's been a hot minute, sorry about that! The shotgun series is still ongoing but this idea popped into my head and I just had to write it. I tried to activate my asks or whatever but I’m still kinda new to how tumblr works haha. I wanna meet people in the TLOU community and make friends so come say hi!! Anyhoo I hope you guys enjoy, have a great day I love you ♡ - Lottie

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You loved Jesse, you really did. Starting from move-in day, you guys did everything together, knew everything about each other, and he quickly became your absolute best friend. When he first introduced you to Dina, a girl he met during orientation, you were so happy he found someone as sweet and open as she was. She always greeted you with a hug and smile, even going as far as inviting you to hang out with her and Jesse on whatever date they had planned. Eventually, you and Dina also got very close, going on your own little “friend dates” as she called them where you would go to dinner or just watch a movie. You always joked that if she ever got tired of Jesse all she had to do was say the word and you would sweep her off her feet. As much as you loved them though, there was one thing about them that you couldn’t stand. They fucked like rabbits. Literally 24/7. You actually didn’t even know it was medically possible for two people to get it on this much. You come home from a class and boom- they’re in your dorm going at it. Trying to take a nap in your room? Think again, here comes Jesse and Dina tearing off each other's clothes. You tried to be cool about it at first because you didn’t want to seem bitchy, but you were quickly reaching your limit. And tonight was the night you lost it 

-------

You had a long fucking day, filled with back-to-back classes that seemed to last an eternity and mountains of homework that took you hours in the library to complete. Practically as soon as you got to your dorm and your head hit the pillow you passed out, which is probably why you didn't hear Jesse and Dina come home. What you did hear, however, was a weird grating creaking noise that roused you from sleep. Blinking the blurriness from your eyes, you start to come to your surroundings. The creaking started to get louder and as you become more and more awake, you begin to notice soft moans and grunts coming from the direction of the creaking... - NO. FUCKING. WAY. 

“You little fuck gremlins, you’re unbelievable!!!” You exclaim, hucking your pillow in their general direction. The sound of a startled grunt and scrambling from Jesse’s bed fills your ears as they try to cover themselves up, and finally, you turn your bedside lamp on to glare at them. Both of them sit on his bed, messily wrapped in blankets with a light pink dusting on their cheeks, chests heaving as they try to catch their breath. At least Dina looks apologetic, Jesse just looks annoyed you interrupted them. 

“I’m so sorry, I-” Dina starts apologizing, but you hold up your hand to stop her. 

“Jesse, you're like a brother to me and I love you, but I can’t deal with you right now. Like, just give me a heads up when you two are gonna fuck and I’ll leave, this is traumatizing.” Jesse slightly rolls his eyes but nods, and you can tell he does actually feel bad that they woke you. “and Dina, just give me a chance I’d treat you so right, just say the word. You’ve done nothing wrong ever, and I love you.” 

Jesse shakes his head, throwing his hands up indignantly “Why do I get scolded like a toddler and Dina gets hit on?!? Where’s the justice?”. You shut him up with a glare, then focus back on Dina.

“Dina, where is your dorm and would your roommate mind me staying there? Y’all can finish what you started but I’m getting tf up outta here.” After getting the building name and room number, you quickly pack a small go bag with essentials, wrap a blanket over your shoulders, and begin to trudge across campus to Dina’s building. About halfway there you think about how crazy you’re going to look to her roommate, a girl you’ve never met before but Dina had mentioned in passing a few times. The only thing you knew about her was that her name was Ellie and she was an astronomy major. Fuck, what were you even going to say when you got there?? Hey! Our roommates were having a fuck fest in my room, mind if we have a sleepover? You spent the rest of the walk overthinking and trying to come up with something to say when you saw her until eventually, you found yourself on their floor. Wandering down the hallway, you finally stumble on a light wooden door that was decorated with colorful bits of paper cut into the shape of mushrooms that held both Dina and Ellie’s names. Keeping in mind the mini script you made of what to say when you were walking over, you take a deep breath and raise your hand to knock on the door.

After a moment of silence, clattering and distant swearing come from the other side of the door before it swings open. Your mouth goes dry, all the words you had rehearsed flying out the window as you take in Ellie for the first time. Her short auburn hair falls messily around her freckled face and as she lifts her hand up to rub the sleep from her eyes, you catch a glimpse of a tattoo on her forearm. Wearing just a white cotton tank top and black boxers, it was clear that she had been sleeping peacefully before your rude awakening. As you continue to check her out, you’re startled when her voice cuts through the quiet of the hallway.

“Dude, I was sleeping. The fuck do you want?” Ellie’s voice is still thick with sleep as her gaze falls on you. Oh shit, she must think you’re so creepy, just some rando waking her up in the middle of the night and then staring at her. You hastily blurt out your name trying to seem like less of a weirdo in front of Dina’s smoking-hot roommate

“Dina and Jesse woke me up with their... sex stuff? And they go at it all the time and I was kinda fed up so I asked Dina if I could sleep in her bed for tonight and she said yes so... now I'm here and-” Your awkward rambling was cut short by Ellie bursting out laughing, doubling over to clutch her stomach.

“No way dude that's fucking heinous! You poor thing get in here.” With that, Ellie grabs your arm and pulls you into the room, her hand finding the small of your back as she guides you in. “Welcome to our humble abode, that's Dina’s side so you can just dump your shit over there, and that's her bed.” She says, gesturing to the left side of the room. Shoving your backpack to the ground, you make your way to Dina’s bed, observing the room as you go. Ellie’s side is filled with drawings and posters, as well as a guitar that leans up against her bed rail. Pictures also litter the walls, some of her and Dina, some of her other friends, and a few of her with an older man you assume is her dad. Suddenly feeling the night catch up to you, a huge yawn leaves your lips and you crawl into Dina’s bed, letting your eyes fall closed.

“It's nice to finally meet you, Dina talks about you all the time. She didn’t tell me you were pretty though”. Your eyes fly open and you can feel your cheeks growing warm at the compliment. 

“Dina talks about you too. It's weird we’ve never met before, Dina always said I would like you” You reply, rolling over to face her to see that she was already looking at you. 

“Listen any time those two are annoying you, come over here. You’re always welcome” she tells you, a wide smile stretching across her face

“Thanks, Ellie”

“No problem pretty girl”

-------

“Ellie they’re doing it again!! They were literally eye fucking all over the room so I made my escape before my vision got assaulted. Again.” You yell, bursting into Ellie's room without so much as a knock. On that first night you stayed in Dina’s dorm, the two of you talked for hours, only stopping once daylight began to leak through the curtains on the windows. She talked about her adopted dad, Joel, what she wanted to do with her life, and her love of dinosaurs. With each word, you found yourself more and more enamored with her. You’d never met anyone like Ellie and from that day on you guys were close friends. Well... you don’t know if friends is the way to describe it. Ellie was almost always touching you, from wrapping an arm around your waist when you were walking together to pulling you down onto her lab when there was not enough room on the couch. At parties, she’d keep close to you, warding off creepy men with a snarl and her arm around your shoulders. You’d both shared countless kisses, some light and playful, others deep and passionate. There was something unspoken between the two of you, you saw it in the way she looked at you, the way she was protective over you like no one else in your life has ever been. You’d never labeled what you and Ellie had, too scared that if you talked about it, she’d get so weirded out by you reading too much into it that she would leave. 

“I keep telling you babe, set boundaries with them. As much as I love having your gorgeous face here, you gotta tell them when you need the room.”

That was the other thing, the nicknames she gave you. You don’t think Ellie has called you by your name once since the night you met. It's always pretty girl, gorgeous, or your personal favorite, babe. Wandering over to where Ellie sat on the edge of her bed, tuning her guitar, you flop face down next to her. Hearing her place the guitar down with a dramatic sigh, you feel Ellie’s body moving toward where you lay on the bed. Rough hands grasp your waist, rolling you until you’re laying on your back. Ellie kneels over you, one hand stroking the skin of your waist while the other glides up the side of your body to brush your hair out of your eyes. 

“I’ll beat the shit out of Jesse, will that help?” She offers, only half joking, earning a small giggle from you as she smiles. 

“My hero” You joke, hand rising to cup the side of her face and squeeze the flesh there. “You don’t have to, I just have to stop being a pussy and tell them. Maybe we can make a schedule or something, I don't know.”

“Oo a fucking schedule, how romantic. I’m sure they’ll love that” She teases and you shove her away from you playfully. Before you can fully shove her away, she grips your arm, using the momentum to pull you onto her lap. Her back leans against the wall and she picks you up slightly by your hips so that she can slide her thigh between your legs. 

“Shut up I’m trying okay?” You giggle raising your hand to push her once again. This time though, she catches it and laces your fingers together. Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you try to catch your breath from being WWE slammed into a cuddle session and you could have sworn you catch Ellie’s eyes flutter between your own and your chest. Did you wear a low-cut tank top and booty shorts on purpose?... maybe. Was it working? Hell yes. 

When Ellie finally looks up from your chest, you raise an eyebrow mockingly at her and her face immediately flushes a dark red. You laugh as she averts her gaze and clears her throat, leaning down to rest your head in the crook of her neck. Her hands migrate to rub your back, moving the fabric of your shirt to rub soothing circles on your soft skin. From her neck you try to sneak a look at her face, only to find that her eyes are already locked on you. With a small smile, you once again bring your hand up to cup her face, this time just caressing the skin there instead of pinching. Ellie removes her hands from your back and uses them to grab the hair at the base of your neck, bringing your head up to face her. After only a brief look from your eyes to your lips, Ellie surges forward and meets your lips in a searing kiss. 

She bites down on your lower lip playfully, taking advantage of the small gasp you let out to explore your mouth. Without realizing it, you begin to grind on Ellie’s thigh, desperate for friction. You only register you’re doing it when Ellie brings her hand down to grope your ass, forcing you further down on her thigh and quickening your pace. You break the kiss with a soft moan, getting lost in the pleasure until suddenly you find yourself on your back. Ellie slots her body fully over yours, eyeing you up and down with flush cheeks.

“Fuck, babe you’re so fucking beautiful.” She says, tracing her hand along the waistband of your shorts, toying with the fabric. 

“Please Ellie” You whimper, practically writhing under her despite the fact that she's barely done anything yet 

“Please what pretty girl? Use your words.” 

“Touch me, Ellie, please! I-I need you!” You cry out and with a smug smirk, she slides her fingers under your waistband and between your folds

“It's okay baby shh, I got you. Fuck you’re so wet, is all this for me, gorgeous?” All you can do is nod pitifully as her fingers sink into you, a harsh moan tearing from your lips. Her fingers slide easily in and out, your slick walls clenching around her as her face moves to suck marks onto your neck. The pleasure is too much, clenching your eyes shut all you can focus on is the rough pounding of her fingers within you. 

“Fuck, Ellie.. feels so good f-fuck” You incoherently babble as she curls her fingers, hitting your sweet spot and making your vision go dark. Your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, your whole body clenching and shaking around Ellie’s fingers as she praises you. 

“That's it pretty, you did so good for me. You’re so fucking hot, babe.” Ellie removes her fingers and immediately puts them in her mouth, sucking off your slick with a contented moan. “Fucking delicious, will you let me taste more baby? Please?”. Not finding yourself able to speak yet, all you can do is nod and Ellie wastes no time. Clambering off the bed, Ellie grabs your thighs and pulls you to the edge, kneeling before you now bare core. Throwing your legs over her shoulders, Ellie dives in, attaching her lips to your swollen clit with a harsh suck. You loudly cry out, hands flying to the back of her head as her tongue begins to rapidly lick and suck all over. You feel your orgasm approaching more quickly than before and you unconsciously begin to grind down on Ellie's face to chase your release. However, your trance is interrupted by a loud shriek

“OH MY GOD! What the fuck guys, what are you doing?!?!” Dina yells from the now open door, shielding her eyes with her hand. You scramble to cover yourself with Ellie's comforter as the woman herself lets out an annoyed groan.

“Is this what it feels like!?! Jesus, it's like walking in on your parents. I’m so sorry, I’ll come back later!” Dina rushes out and slams the door behind her, leaving you and Ellie alone once again. After a moment of silence, Ellie starts to laugh

“Well, at least she knows what it's like now. I doubt they’ll be causing you problems again.” She says between her giggles, grabbing a pair of her boxers to dress you in. You shake off your embarrassment and begin to laugh as well, taking Ellie's hand and tugging her into bed with you. As Ellie wraps you in her arms, you can’t help but think you might have to thank Jesse and Dina for being such sex maniacs.

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an: I love you guys so much, thank you for all the comments, likes and reblogs on my previous posts. Let me know if you guys can access my asks, I wanna get to know yall!! this is my first time writing smut, yall can probably tell LMAO but all feedback is appreciated  ☺︎ 

[lovegasmic]

⋆ CUCKOLDING.

ft. ex Gepard x f!reader x Sampo

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 cw. public sx although no one is around but in a public space ( closed amusement park ), voyeurism, who is the cuck? that will surprise you lmao.

request from @vampnyx

NAVI ⁞ EVENT MASTERLIST

it took you a couple of dates with Gepard to realize he wasn’t your destined lover. of course he was so kind, gentle and sweet, the perfect husband and boyfriend material, but you needed the risk, the adventure, the constant touch and presence that your overworked ex didn’t provide.

having Sampo come into your life was a pleasant surprise, the man was a hurricane, uncertain and passionate, not really giving a fuck if you found yourself in a slightly crowded street for his hand to cup your jaw and kiss you so lewdly a string of drool connected your lips.

now, with him everything was spontaneous, the invitation to sneak into the new amusement park when the moon shone bright above your heads was truly tempting.

“c’mon, babe, no one is here, it’s just us” Sampo lures you, clasping his hands in that mannerism of his, eyes dropping like a pleading puppy with legs spread and sitting on a nearby bench someone placed inside the amusement park maze, why was it even there?

you hesitate, but he’s right, way past midnight where absolutely not a single soul could be awake on such a cold night in Belobog. but you also shouldn’t have been dumb enough to think the Silvermane Guards weren’t making sure a certain blue haired man didn’t cause trouble.

and that one guard was specifically, Gepard, who much against his will stumbled upon the sight of your pretty body bouncing on Sampo’s lap, just letting his eyes trail down to observe the way your dripping pussy sucked on the other man’s cock, suddenly the night wasn’t that cold anymore.

“hello, captain” Sampo’s voice is a purr with his chin on your shoulder, not allowing you to move with his tightly his hands gripped on your hips, “up for some fun?”

why was Gepard still standing with his eyes glued to your shape was beyond his own understanding, not showing any signal of being affected negatively due to the rush of heat down his cock and blushing cheeks.

the sight of you with another was like a punch in the gut, but he was way too embarrassed to even admit the sight was so fucking sexy too.

“Gepard” you mewl, turning your head slightly to watch the blonde through half lidded eyes, making him clench his hands.

“are you going to stand there or actually do something?” Sampo interferes, silently offering you a like trophy, one that Gepard will happily take, too needy for a taste since you broke up with him before he could even indulge in the warmth of your body.

he’s like a big puppy, a shy one, with a cute blush in his cheeks while taking careful steps so his thick uniform didn’t clank too loudly.

you’re a bit too dizzy, a bit too fucked stupid to feel embarrassed at being caught, but Gepard is an ex you’d go back to, so your hands work faster than your brain, pulling on the intricate belts and buckles on his uniform the moment he sat next to you and Sampo tossed you onto the other man’s lap, not before whispering a “be a good girl and get captain Gepard’s cock nice and wet”

the blonde was not too vocal while having sex, so hearing him groan and toss his head back the moment your warm pussy slid down his cock was more than welcoming, setting his large, gloved hands on your hips as you moved up and down, creating a squelching sound that muffled the soft ‘pap’ coming from Sampo’s hand fisting his cock, wet and dripping with your sweet slick.

“she’s heavenly, isn’t she?” the blue haired smirks, taking in the gorgeous sight of your messy hair and good fucked expression while Gepard groaned and stuck his gaze down to where your bodies met, barely managing to mutter a “yeah” already brain fried from the velvety grip of your cunt.

“you’ll let him cum inside you, yeah? the captain works so hard he deserves it” of course he does, so you nod, gripping Gepard’s shoulders just a bit tighter.

“you want to... Geppie?”

fuck, fuck, fuck. you’re going to kill him, it was not fair, not fucking fair how cute you looked right now, please don’t make him say it, he just hopes the heated expression and tousled hair is enough to say he does, he fucking does want to cum in your cunt, but he’s also way too afraid of opening his mouth and letting out a sound that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

you whimper again as his cock twitches, staining your insides with precum that helps the slide, up and down, up and down, not stopping any time soon. but your voice, your skin, the whole you is too much, much worse when you stick out your tongue to lick Gepard’s bottom lip playfully.

and he’s gone just like that, hips bucking up erratically as his tip splurts cum inside your cumming pussy, with a half groan half whine that would possibly alert anyone around, luckily it was just you two... and Sampo with a hand coated with sticky cum at the sight of you both sharing an orgasm.

well, hopefully you’ll meet again soon.

[hanwiore]

a/n: little smut for könig! I love him uhhhh, don’t mind any typos, my pussy wrote this and she’s really tired rn okay!

“uh fuck! s-sorry!” you whine, drool slipping pass your once glossed glittery lips. a smack was swatted against your left ass cheek this time, painting an angry dark red against your brown skin. “cussin now, love? tsk.” two smacks were swatted on the back of your thighs this time.

yours thighs instantly closed, your wetness dripping down them, “g-god, m’ sorry daddy, uhn gosh, m’ so sorry.” it was a shame really, you came to königs house looking so cute, hair freshly done in a half up, half down with a bow right on top of the ponytail. white fold over leggings with a baby pink fitted jacket, you came looking comfortable and smelling so good just to get in trouble.

all because you said his enemy ‘Simon ‘ghost’ Riley ’ was an attractive male, of course it was a joke. I mean, you said it days ago! you thought it was over. but you should have known messing with a guy who have gone through things among what you can imagine would go so kindly on someone who means little harm.

“ja, you sorry baby?” he hums, face sounding tired but in truth. he’s holding back from fucking you. your face is bent over the arm rest of his big couch, booty perched up while your cherry printed panties are half way down your butt cheeks. leggings down to your ankles as your toes curled underneath your fuzzy socks. “hm? you sorry?” he grabs the hood of your jacket, grips it to pull your whole body up, “the fuck you sorry for huh? tell me.”

the same hand on your hoodie moves to the front of you to grip just an inch under your jaw, he moves you back enough to you feel his bulge against your ass. “I-i didn’t mean it papa, I s-swear.” you gargle, still shaking from the spanking you have received.

his lips moves to kiss the side of your forehead, then moves down to your neck, “yea, I know princess.” now his other hand moves and covers your pussy, you feel him moving it against your bud slowly. and you being so damn sensitive, you think you could’ve came right then and there if it wasn’t from the sudden slap he left on your cunt. “ha-haah! daddy- oh my g-gosh.” your body jerks forward and your thighs press against each other, you barely get a moment to do so before your receiving another slap, this time to your boobs that was revealed due to him tugging the zipper down.

you felt like crying, you really did. you whimpered out loud, your fingers found their way to both of his wrist—the one on your jaw and the other one on your thigh that forces it open—you squeeze them as you beg. “p-please. I-it hurts so much.” honestly, you were lucky. you may not have felt as if you were but god, it could have been worse than this. but könig just has a sweet spot for you, you haven’t ran away from him yet, you take it like the good girl you are, he hurts you and you come to him to fix it.

he loves it.

he loves you.

“it hurts princess?” he moves his arms away from you, pushing you back down so your ass is back in the air. “mines hurts too.” his jagged fingers goes and squeezes his dick through his sweats, “fuck, hurts so bad. m’ drippin’ baby.” he sees your head moving to lay flat on your cheek so you can look back at him, a pout on your cute face but he can see your eyes.

you fucking adored him.

“l-love you so much daddy, d-daddy i love y-you so much.” he smiles at that, he bends down slightly to kiss both of your perky butt cheeks, that jiggles with every quiver you’ve made. And all of a sudden you gasp as he quite literally tongue kisses your pussy. His nose so close to your puckered hole as his tongue is making out with the hole that creates the taste he’s obsessed with.

“o-oh.” it almost sound like a cry for help, you were so happy though. you felt so good. you relax against the couch, dainty fingers grabbing anywhere to calm your racing heart and shaggy breathing. “mph, h-heavens.”

his hands grips the fat of your ass to scoot you closer against him, tongue now going side by side against your clit, nose just as wet as his mouth is. then he does the most disgusting thing ever and spits right on your pussy just to slurp it back up and spit on your puckered hole. his thumb is already in there before you think, “oh! f-fuck, shit-,” you know you aren’t allowed to say such words but you just can’t help it.

and he knows, daddy always knows.

he leans back up and pulls down his sweatpants half way down his thick tensing thighs.

you feel it on the wet hole he just spit on. and you’ve seen it a thousand times but you loved to see it all over again.

it was uncut, pink with veins peaking out here and there, but it was so fucking thick. and when ever he was hard enough the extra skin will peel slowly down to show his angry red—wet— tip. You loved it.

that fascination was short lived once you were flipped over and your knees were damn near touching your shoulders, “put it in for me.” his breath was almost as ragged as yours was.

your long acrylic nails, painted pink and white with 3D flowers on it every where clinked against eachother as you stroked his dick once, twice until you slapped it on your chubby lips. making a slimy sound, almost sounds as if it hurts before your pushed it into you.

“d-daddy- o-oh daddy fuck- imma cum a-already.” you moan once he bottoms out. his hands rested right by your head on the arm rest, his legs bent slightly so he can give you short but fast strokes that bruise your g-spot tremendously.

“yea, you taking it baby? taking that d-dick.” his hair falls across his forehead slightly, lips bitten red from his own abuse. eyes clenched shut. “f-fuck mama.” his rough hand slaps your thigh once he picks up the pace more, putting his hands on the back of your knees to fold you impossibly. he was so urgent, urgent to please you. urgent to make you fucking scream.

and you were.

he swore you can make a perfect picture.

you pink bow still in your hair as your hair flows across the couch. eyebrows furrowed and cute lips open slightly to let out the most, sluttiest but cutest whines ever. “a-ah, ah, ah. y-yes daddy- m’ taking it, uh.” your hands moved to grab behind your thighs instead of his while he moves back to inspect your pussy.

he goes to take it out, only an inch away from going completely out before he drops right on in, as if he was tired of doing push ups and gave up. he watches your brown fat pussy lips open wide from his heavy dick, watches how the inside of vibrant pink was creamy with white substance that you caused.

“S-shit, fuck- you creamin on my shit liebe?”

you cry out, head falling back, “c-can’t help it- daddy imma cum- gonna make me cu-cum!” your legs start to shake as well as your walls do, it makes him go sloppy a little bit before he moves forward and now have his hands in fist, legs straight while his fit is on his toes, and he goes absolutely ham in your pussy.

Goes up, then drop again.

Ya’ll make a beautiful musical.

Slapping sounds from his thick chubby balls slamming on your wet asshole, slimy sounds from your wetness and his precum, whiney moans from your and his deep groans that he can’t help but let out.

cause he knows he digging that lil shit out. he knows it.

you’re cumming already, three more strokes in and your absolutely convulsing against his cock. “Ah-ah-ah d-daddyyyy, oh my fu-fucking gosh!” Your fingers pinch your thighs as you can feel your wetness stream from your pussy down to the bottom of your ass on the couch.

he’s not far behind you. between your face, the bouncing of your tits and your tight & wet ass pussy taking his dick like a soldier, every single time makes him moan in your face.

“gonna make cum schönes mädchen.” he legs pull forward so he back on his knees and he pulls you above him, while he’s sitting up. You let go under your legs, wrapping your arms around his neck, reaching around to rub your fingers through his hair as you moan in his ear, “give it to me daddy, gimme it. wan it so bad!”

both of his hands are on your hips, grinding you almost angrily onto his dick, he felt so fucking good.

“a-ah fuck, fuck baby, s-shit-“ he’s grabbing the back of your neck as you feel a warm squirt of cum go inside your throbbing hole, and he’s still going. “G-goddamn.” he shoves his face in your neck as he moves his hips up against you slower and more sloppy.

“no more scherzhaft, yes?” he huffs into your ear.

“yes, no more joking.” you mumble.