#the neighbourly thing to do

[bl1ndbraavosi]

A comm for my story The Neighbourly Thing to Do by the amazing @spicybanhbao

[ask-pakistan]

Salam, Sister. Can we see Asif being carried/cared for by Ahmad Massoud. I felt this suggestion would greatly benefit the Afghan audience to quell some rage against Pakistanis. Remember, Afghanistan is very diverse so to portray Asif as only a pushton is insulting.

Dear Anon, i feel like an ask like this is a bit too controversial for me to draw or answer. As this is just a platform i like to discuss and create Hetalia - related things, i usually like to keep things more generalized and less tense.

Afghans may have anger with regards to Pakistan's political leadership (current or in the past), but i don't think any hatred should translate into hatred for the normal, average person. If some people are too narrow-minded to understand this basic thing, then it is not my business to indulge them either. It is not my responsibility to educate people who are hellbent on their biased hatred-filled views and neither would i encourage such a person to so much as even engage with me.

But yes, i agree that Afghanistan is much more than just it's Pashtun group :D I completely agree with you on that. I need to do more research on the other different groups of Afghanistan in order to add to his overall quirks and maybe personality. However, correct me if i'm wrong, the reason why i give more emphasis on the Pashtun group is because the current Afghanistan exists due to the conquests of Afghan/Pashtun dynasties on non-Pashtun regions. And historically people used to consider Afghan and Pashtun to be synonymous to one another. It's only recent that i've seen people trying to diverge Afghan from just being synonymous to Pashtun, and into a much more inclusive national identity for Afghan Tajiks, Uzbeks, Turkmens, Baloch, Hazaras, Nuristanis etc etc Consider reading some of my old posts regarding Afghanistan :) I have explained some things related to it there.

[eddiesxangel]

Noisy Neighbours | E.M

Summary: Eddie has no idea what he’s getting into with the two new girls next door.

An: HAPPY PRIDE 🏳️‍🌈 this is my first fic like this so im hoping you’ll like it! Today is my birthday and I wanted to do this as my little gay gift to you! And shout out to @xxbimbobunnyxx for listening to my deranged horny thots throughout writing this 😘💋

Cw: f!reader x f!readers girlfriend x Eddie. Reader and of gf are bi/pan/ whatever you want them to be. Threesome, oral ( fxf + fxm) fingering, , 69ning, ass play ,p in v.

4.3k words

Eddie felt a surge of frustration and disappointment when he learned about the impending arrival of new neighbours that would be moving in directly beside his apartment. Despite the several vacancies in the building, the landlord, Gerry, opted to place the new tenants next to Eddie. This decision left Eddie contemplating whether Gerry held a personal grudge against him, possibly due to his occasional late-night guitar solos that may have disturbed the peace of the building.

Eddie had grown accustomed to the absence of tantalizing food aromas wafting from his neighbour's kitchen and the absence of music that he imagined others endured. He found solace in the cozy life he had built for himself in apartment 3A. However, the impending arrival of new occupants in 3B threatened to disrupt the tranquillity he had carefully cultivated.

Eddie changed his tune the second he got wind of who his new neighbours would be. When he had seen the moving truck out front through his window, his eyes almost popped out of his head. Eddie watched and waited as one of the hottest girls he’d ever seen get out of the driver's seat; he soon learned her name was Sabrina. He continued to watch, his eyes begging him to blink but he couldn’t move as he watched you hop out. You had giggled at something at what the bombshell blonde said. His jaw hung open, and his tongue almost hit the floor like a cartoon character as he ogled you as well. The set of you sure was a sight for soar eyes. What karma Eddie had was finally coming for him, and he was so grateful.

Eddie felt he had to introduce himself, it was a neighbourly thing to do.

After two days, he worked up the courage to knock on the door of 3B.

“You expecting someone?” Your girlfriend pops her head up curiously. You’re both cuddling on the couch, exhausted from unpacking.

“Nope,” you emphasize the p sound.

She shuffled up and opened the door. “Oh, hello,” you could hear the smirk in her voice, and your morbid curiosity took over, needing to see who stood on the other side.

“H-Hi,” you hear a deep voice. "I'm Eddie.” He sounded hot. You quickly get up off the couch and make your way to where Sabrina stood.

“Who’s this?” You caught sight of the man before you and gave a small smile.

“This is Eddie; he lives next door.” You grab onto your girlfriend’s waist as she speaks.

“Hi Eddie, it’s nice to meet you.” You smile genuinely.

“Pleasure is all mine.” His eyes scan your body; you’re in tiny sleep shorts and a baby tee with no bra.

“Do you want to come in? I think we have something to drink around here.” Sabrina offers.

“Oh no, I can’t impose, I-uh… just wanted to come to say hi, but another night when you’re settled.” Eddie is trying so hard not to stare at both sets of tits laid out for him. The fabrics of your shirts were so thin he could see each of your nipples. And he can tell the AC is working, to his pleasure.

“Okay, Eddie, it was nice meeting you.” You both smile and shut the door.

The second the door closed, you both gave one another a knowing look. He's hot.

🏳️‍🌈💖💜💙♀️⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖🏳️‍🌈💖💜💙♀️

You run into Eddie sometimes on the elevator, but you still haven’t had time to coordinate a time to have that drink.

Eddie will see you leaving and Sabrina coming, or vice versa. He figured it was a pretty sweet deal for you two to set up, each having your own space but maintaining a good friendship.

You’re both quiet and listen to decent music. At least one of you is seemingly an amazing cook because the food smells delicious each time.

He hasn’t thought much of how touchy the two of you were when he first met you. He was too focused on not getting a stiffy while meeting the both of you for the first time. He scolded himself for turning down Sabrina‘s offer for a drink, but he didn’t think he could conceal the ever-growing issue in his sweats.

It’s been a month since you and your girlfriend, Sabrina, just moved into your new apartment. It wasn’t much to boast about; sure, the wallpaper was ugly-but the rent was cheap, and so far, you haven’t seen any critters crawling around, so that was a huge plus.

You wished your schedules were more aligned, but with Sabrina’s new job and yours, life had gotten a little hectic. You’d hardly seen one another until tonight.

Tonight, you both ensured one another that it was date night. You haven’t had the chance to spend quality time with one another since you moved in, but that changes tonight. You will wine and dine and get that much-needed time together…

Sabrina and you are stumbling over your heels, trying to balance yourselves as you make your way through your front door without trying to break the kiss. It’s hot, it’s needy, and god, you missed her like this.

Her long, soft hair is tangled through your fingers as you pull her into you for more. You don't want to mess it up because she looked so pretty and spent so much time on it but that went to the wayside when she let out a soft moan.

You can feel Sabrina’s emerald green slip dress rub between your fingers as you grip her by the hip. This dress has been teasing you all night, and you can't wait to get it off of her.

Your lipsticks are smudged, but none of that matters because they’ve created a beautiful new pink colour on both of you.

Stumbling through the hallway to your shared bedroom, you land on the bed with a squeal as your girlfriend crawls on top of you.

“Oh, baby!” You let a moan a little louder than usual; you and some cocktails were starting to take effect- not that you needed alcohol to loosen up, but it definitely made you more vocal in the bedroom.

Her perfectly manicured hands trailed up your inner thighs and under your mini skirt, brushing over your bare cunt.

“No panties?” She whispered. “Naughty girl, hiding this from me all night.”

“Baby, please, I want you so bad.”

“Don’t worry, pretty girl, I’ll take care of you.” She sinks down, her glossy wet lips make contact with your pussy and you let out a cry of pleasure.

🏳️‍🌈💖💜💙♀️⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖🏳️‍🌈💖💜💙♀️

Just as Eddie is ready to fall asleep, he hears a sharp squeal through the paper-thin walls of his bedroom.

Maybe she saw a spider? He almost called out to see if you're okay, but-

“Oh, baby!”

Ok, maybe not a spider…

A pang of jealousy shoots through Eddie's chest. He wanted to be with the one to be on the other side of his wall. It didn’t matter what roommate it was; he wanted both of you.

Eddie listened and waited to see if he would hear anything more, but it was silent for a few minutes. Maybe Eddie was hearing things?

“Your pretty little clit is so puffy, begging for me to suck on it.”

“Baby, please stop teasing!

Nope, he heard right.

Eddie can’t help his curiosity. He presses his ear up against the wall to listen.

“Yeah, baby, just like that! Such a good girl f’me- OH YES!”

No way this was happening right now? No way he had the two hottest neighbours on the planet, and they were fucking?

"Sabrina!"—"Good girl, y/n say my name.”

Yes. That was 100% what was happening on the other side of the wall.

Both you and your girlfriend’s filthy words and moans fill Eddie's silent room, and he can’t help but touch himself. It was impossible to not be turned on. He can picture the both of you, how one is spread out under the other- Or maybe one of you has their ass in the air and is getting eaten out from behind? Or maybe you’re pussy's are rubbing together?

The sounds mixed with the images Eddie is mustering up in his own head have him whimpering and moaning. No longer aware of the fact that since he can hear you, you can hear him, he gets lost in it as he fucks his fist.

Eddie’s moans fill your bedroom as you’re about to go down in Sabrina. She’s on all fours facing the wall where Eddie’s bed lays on the other side. She quickly crawls up closer to get a better listen.

You follow suit and kneel beside her. “He’s so hot I want him to fuck us,” you pout.

Sabrina turns to you with a mischievous grin on her face, and you can’t help but lean into her touch. She starts twirling a piece of your hair. “Oh, my baby wants that pretty boy next door? I’ll get him for you; good girls always get what they want.”

“I'LL DO IT,” Eddie immediately blurts out, not realizing you don’t know he can hear you.

“What the?” You gasp.

“Eddie?” Sabrina taps on the wall like she knocking on a door.

“Yeah,” he answered, and you giggle.

“You naughty boy, have you been spying on us?” You giggle again.

But there was no answer. You wait a few more seconds before repeating his name, but you’re both startled when you hear a knock on your front door.

You both quickly get off the bed, not bothering to put on clothes and look through the peephole to ensure it’s him.

He stood in the hallway in only his boxers hands in front of his boner, as if that would do any good at hiding it.

Sabrina opens the door and you quickly grab him and pulls him inside before he could say anything and before anyone else could see you.

“Holy shit” his bold brown eyes go wide when he sees the pair of you standing there naked in front of him.

“Did you like listening to us?” You ask.

“Yeah,” he nods his head dumbly.

“I bet you did. You’re so nice and hard.” You both look down at his cock strained against his boxers.

“You wanna play with us, Eddie?” You ask with your voice, which is so silky and sweet. Stepping towards him, your fingers trace their way down his arm moving it from where his hands cup his cock so you can graze it yourself.

“Fuck yeah” he pants.

“Come” Sabrina takes his hand and you take the other and you both lead him to your shared bedroom.

I can’t believe this is happening Eddie thought.

“Better believe it, big boy”

Oh shit, Eddie didn’t think he said that out loud.

Eddie falls on the bed and watches as you and your girlfriend crawl up into the bed and hover over top of him.

“Like two goddamn succubus,” he lets out, and you and Brina can’t help but giggle.

“Oh, this is going to be fun.” Your girlfriend looks to you.

You lean in to give her a kiss as Eddie watches from below. His cock still growing by the second; it was like he was watching a live prono.

Nerves suddenly flooded Eddie. What was he allowed to do and not do? Would he get to fuck either of you? Maybe just one? Maybe none? Maybe you’ll only make him watch. Not that he minded, but go, he needed to fuck at least one of you.

“I think we’ve teased Eddie long enough.” She spoke as her hand grazed up Eddie’s cock.

“I’m sure he’s more than ready for us, don’t you think?” you counter.

Eddie lay there propped up on your pillows, too stunned to speak. He didn’t even know where to start. His mouth was getting dry and he did not want to fuck this up.

“What do you?-what can I?” His hands pointed between the two of you.

“You can do whatever you want to use, Eddie.” Brina took a loose tendril of Eddie’s hair and twirled it around her finger like she did with you; all the while, you were starting to remove his checkered boxers from his hips.

“R-really?”

“Tell us what you want, sugar.” She purrs.

“I wa- I want to fuck you both.”

“Oh, tell us more” You plant a kiss on his upper thigh, moving towards his hard cock, which is painfully being neglected.

“I want to watch you fuck each other.”

“Mmmmm, that’s so hot.” Brina moaned before moving down to where you are and taking Eddie’s cock in her light grasp.

You make your way up Eddie’s body by kissing him inch by inch until your lips are latched on Eddie’s neck.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe this is happening.” Eddie whimpered.

“Want to taste this pussy, make sure it is real?”

“Please” he sighs.

You hear Brina moan around Eddie’s cock at your words.

It’s been a while since you had a cock in your mouth, and you wished you were the first one who got to go down on him, but the thought of sitting on Eddie’s face while your girl was swallowing him was too hot to pass up.

“Look at these nice big balls; I bet they’re filled with so much cum, just for us,” you hear her moan.

“Fuck me, you’re so hot,” Eddie brushes Sabrina’s hair out of her face.

You turn your body to face her so you can watch while you perch yourself right atop Eddie’s face.

“Yes, yes, come sit on my face,” you feel his big strong hands grip your hips and pull you down so your pussy lips meet his mouth.

“Oh fuck!” You laugh as the rough stubble of his face brushes the inside of your thighs.

Eddie wanted to waste no time. He needed to prove to you that choosing him was the right decision, and he needed to prove himself so you guys would let him play again; with much thought, he drags his tongue, moving through your folds to your clit, tasting every inch of you.

A loud moan left your throat as you looked down at your girl smiling up at you.

“He that good, baby?” Brina asks as she begins to jerk Eddie off with her hand.

“Oh yes, baby.” You grind your hips into his mouth, and Eddie smacks your ass before grabbing a handful of it.

“Oh!” You let out an excited squeal.

“Oh, you like a princess?” Eddie mumbled into your pussy.”

“Mmmph, yes, Eddie,” You were already so worked up by the situation you were already about to cum.

“Come on, Eddie, make my girl cum, and we will let you fuck us both.”

That piqued Eddie’s interest as he continued to flick his hot wet tongue over your clit while slowly sticking a finger up your dripping hole.

“Oh fuck!” You fall a little bit forward on your hands, your pussy in Eddie’s face, and your ass up in the air.

"Tastes so fucking good."

“Fuck that’s so hot"

You nod in agreement, unable to form words.

With Eddie's cock so close to your mouth, you can't help yourself but take it in your hand and bring it to your lips.

"fuck me, that is so good," Eddie speaks as your mouth finds his tip and Sabrina licks his balls.

Eddie needed to make you cum now, or else he wouldn't have the chance to fuck either of you if the two of your kept it up like this.

His long, thick fingers worked inside of you, hitting your g spot perfectly.

"Don't stop" You pop off his dick, drool dripping down your chin as your cry out.

"He making you feel good, baby?"

"Yes!" You shake as your orgasm hits you.

Eddie doesn't stop until Sabrina pulls his face away from your pussy.

"Let me taste." She moves his head to face her and kisses Eddie while you collect yourself.

"You taste so good, baby." She pulls away and leans into you, "Want to see?" You nod your head dumbly as she leans in to kiss you, sticking her tongue in your mouth.

Her soft lips pull away, and you whine at the disconnect.

"Wanna show Eddie how we play together?"

"Mmm, yes," you nod enthusiastically.

Quickly, Eddie moves to the end of the bed and steps off so Sabrina can take his place. She lays out for you, legs spread wide, showing you just how turned on she is. Her pink pussy is glistening, just begging for attention.

"Oh, baby, you're so wet for me" You lay down in front of her with your legs propped up to show Eddie your ass.

You slowly kiss up her inner thighs, teasing and biting at her skin until you reach the apex. You kiss around her pussy lips until she's grinding and begging for you to touch her.

"Baby, baby, baby." She begs until you give in. Placing your lips onto her clit and giving it a kiss before you poke your tongue out to finally run it along your girlfriend's sweet pussy.

The view in front of Eddie was enough to make him cum on the spot. He needed to stop stroking himself, or else he would be finishing before he even got started.

He was so tempted to fuck you right now. It would be so easy to slip his cock inside your pussy that was perched on display for him, but he also needed to commit this picture to memory. Nothing would ever let him forget this moment. Watching you go down on your girl and having her cry out from the pleasure you were giving her. Your skills are so good that her hips won't stay still on the bed. You need to hold her down as your fingers enter her weeping pussy. The lewd, wet sounds filled the room, along with Eddie's heavy breaths trying to hold back. His cock was so hard it was edging on the point of pain.

"Fuck I'm going to cum! I'm going to cum." She screamed.

"Fuking cum for her," Eddie growled.

The command was so hot it made you moan into her making her cum instantly.

"Good job, baby," you praised. You crawled back up to kiss her lips, and Eddie couldn't take it anymore. He needed to feel his release.

"Can I?" He looks at the both of you with those gorgeous puppy dog eyes.

"I think he's been a good boy; he deserves a treat. What do you think?" You ask.

"Oh, he's been a very good boy." She smiles back and moves to get a condom from the drawer.

"You guys just leave those around?" Eddie chuckles in disbeliefe.

"Never know when your hot neighbour will agree to have a threesome." You pull him into a kiss. His lips are so soft and supple that another rush of arousal courses through you as his hands roam your body. He pulls away to kiss down your neck to your breast, taking a perked nipple into his mouth while he grasps the other one in his large hand.

"Her tits are perfect, aren't they?" Sabrina hands Eddie the condom.

Eddie's tongue flicks off your nipple deliciously before he moves to answer.

"Can you fuck us now?"

"Yes!" Eddie said a bit too enthusiastically, but it was endearing.

"How do you want us?"

"Doggy," he points to you, "on top." He points to Brina.

You enthusiastically turn around in anticipation of his thick hard cock stretching out out.

"Fucking perfect." Eddie rolls the condom on, but before he gets to you, he watches as Sabrina makes her way closer to you.

"You know this is her favourite position because she loves a finger up her ass." She smirks, and a rush of arousal flooods your pussy once again. You hear her spit drip from her lips, and a warm wet liquid runs down your ass to your hole before you feel her tongue flick your small hole.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuck," Eddie grounded, letting his head fall back, not knowing he could get any more turned on.

"Your turn, big boy"

Eddie walks to the edge of the bed; your pussy is at the perfect height, so he runs his cock up and down your folds collecting all of your slick so he can glide in easily.

You wiggle your ass into him, already cock drunk before it even begins.

"God baby, look how desperate you are for his cock."

You nod in agreeance.

"You just can't help yourself, can you? Greedy girl." your girlfriend leaves an open mouth and kisses you, watching and waiting for Eddie to enter you. She loves watching your pussy open up while taking cock, whether that be real or dildo.

"She is, isn't she" Eddie agrees while kneading your ass as he finally slips his cock into you.

A feral noise leaves your throat as Eddie's cock stretches you out.

Nothing occupied your mind other than how Eddie was making you feel now. His delicious cock, pumped in and out and out, not letting up.

"Fuck right there!"

"I think you found her special spot," Sabrina smirks before taking her fingers in her mouth to wet them. Too consumed to listen to what they were saying, your focus on only the feeling and when it intensifies because Brina's fingers enter your ass, you can't help but cry out again.

"Fuck!"

“Such a good girl. Take that cock, baby.” Sabrina praises as her fingers pump in and out of your ass.

The combination of Eddie's cock and her fingers made you feel so full. Nothing mattered other than how you were feeling.

"More" you cry.

"Oh, she is greedy." Eddie's hips slap into you at a more frivolous pace.

His balls hit your clit with every thrust until, out of nowhere, you feel a vibrator on your clit. She must have gotten it out while getting the condom, but you hadn't noticed or cared because it was just the thing to bring you over the edge.

"I'm going to cum!" you cry.

Not even a minute with the vibrator to your clit, and your pussy was clamping down hard on Eddie. It was like a tidal wave crashed into you; never had you cum this hard before. Your body shakes so hard under their touch that your arms and legs give out, and you collapse face down on the bed.

Mindless giggles leave your lungs as you ride out your high.

"Fuck did we break her?" Eddie looks at Sabrina.

"No, she's more than good. Never had cock that good, though." She smirked, and Eddie shuffled onto his back so she could get ready to be on top of him.

Exiting your daze, you see your girl already mounted on Eddie- and what a sight to see. A tit in his mouth as she bounces on his cock.

"God, that's so hot," you moan, and you sit up.

"Come here, princess," Eddie commands.

You obey and crawl your way over.

"Kiss," he instructs.

You lean into Sabrina, and she willingly takes your open-mouth kiss. Your tongues fight for dominance against one another, your lipgloss and hers are rubbed off, and your lips are swollen with a hint of colour flushed through them.

“Oh fuck I’m going to cum.” She pulls away.

"You're doing such a good job bouncing on his cock, baby," you praise before pressing your lips to hers once again.

“Mmmmm fuck her good; she’s been such a good girl she deserves to cum. Don’t you think Eddie?”

“Yes, she has,” he agrees while giving his ass a slap. “Fuck, you’re just my bunny, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she nodded her head. You can tell she’s so close, and you want her to experience cuming in Eddie stock just as you did.

“Come on baby, cum in his cock like I know you can.” You slip your hand between where she and Eddie connect to rub her clit, knowing it’s that little extra boost that will send her over the edge.

A loud cry leaves her lungs, and you know she’s cuming and cuming hard.

“Oh, good job, baby.” You purr before leaning in to kiss her neck.

“Fuck!” Eddie screams out, finally letting go as he allows himself release into the condom.

“Oh, Eddie, you did such a good job for us.” You praise sticking his hair out of his face before taking his lips into yours.

Eddie lay there in a daze as you helped Sabrina off his cock.

“Baby, did we break him?” You giggle.

“I think he’s reprogramming his brain,” she laughs.

“Nothing in my life will ever top this moment,” Eddie admits breathlessly.

“Oh yeah, wanna bet?” Sabrina challenged.

“You mean? You wanna do that again?”

“Not now, silly. I don’t think any of us would survive. But who said this has to be a one-time thing?”

“Best neighbours ever,” Eddie fist pumps.

After you all catch your breath, Eddie gets up and finds his boxers to go home.

“Wait, where are you going?" You pout.

“Uh, I thought?” He points to the door.

“Stay. Please?” Brina lifts up the blankets to invite him to sleep between the two of you.

“Really?” His eyes go wide with disbelief.

You both nod your heads enthusiastically.

“It will be like a sleepover!” You clap.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Eddie scrambled back to the bed between you. No one would ever believe him, but he will take everything to his advantage out of this new and exciting situation.

“We really like you, Eddie.” You smile and snuggle into his side.

“I really like you guys, too.” Eddie falls asleep soundly, smiling, and without a care in the world.

Tags: @strangerstilinski @voyeurmunson @espressomunson @littlexdeaths @lokis-army-77 @andvys @taintedcigs

@tlclick73 @penguinsandpotterheads @nailbatanddungeon @hellfiremunsonn @paybacksawitch @jamdoughnutmagician

[starleska]

how would wally react to a neighbor who uses ASL (sign language) to talk?

i love your head canons!

thank you very much!!! you're so kind :3c ooooh this is a wonderful idea, thank you for sending it in!! just to let you know - i'm British (unfortunately), and my personal experience of sign language is influenced by BSL, so i've tried to make this widely applicable for anyone who may use sign language. i hope you don't mind! 🥰

Wally Darling x Reader Who Uses Sign Language headcanons

⭐ Wally is versed in several types of sign language, as well as Makaton and lip-reading. as a neighbourly fellow who is ever-curious about the lovely people who stumble into his life, Wally realised early on that communication via voiced speech alone wasn't inclusive, practical, or possible for some of his friends. in fact, Wally first began learning sign language to communicate with Julie, who has a tendency to become nonverbal when overwhelmed. soon, Wally and the rest of the neighbourhood realised the enormous benefits of being versed in sign language, and began hosting impromptu classes to practice their signing. everyone in the neighbourhood is able to communicate well through sign language, but Wally is undoubtedly the most fluent! ⭐ when Wally first meets you, he is adorably excited by the way you talk. although he loves talking to his friends through sign, Wally finds conversations with you incredibly stimulating. you're interesting, and funny, and know just what to sign to make him break out into peals of his odd, halting laughter. indeed, Wally talks much faster via sign than he does through verbal speech. he often gets swept up in the act of signing; sometimes, you'll need to grab hold of his hands to get him to slow down, as he signs too fast in his excitement! ⭐ Wally is fascinated by the visuals of you signing. as we know, Wally eats with his eyes, but the things he visually devours are not limited to food. early into your friendship, Wally shyly requests that you ramble to him in sign so he can become more accustomed to your unique movements and sign-related dialect. you're happy to do so, but after a few minutes of talking to Wally, you realise his eyes have grown large: akin to an owl's eyes, absorbing all light like a black hole. you gesture to Wally to snap him out of his trance, and it takes a few blinks for his pupils to return to their normal size. he giggles, and apologises, signing: "Sorry! You speak beautifully. I was hungry." for the rest of the day, you press Wally to elaborate on what he means, but he just gives you a coy look and a shake of his head. awww i loved writing this one, thanks so much @xo-destiny!! we need more sign language headcanons in the world, and discussion of disability and non-voiced ways of communication too. hope you like this 🥰💖

[whorekneecentral]

merry smutmas series

hi besties!! since I'm skipping out on kinktober this year, I figured I wouldn’t be fair for me to leave you guys without some sort of holiday treat so here we go again. 

I won’t be able to fit everyone into this series cause with would have taken me forever so between classes and other fics, I’ve been working on this since august lmao. I hope y’all enjoy these as much as I enjoyed writing it &lt;33 // massive thank you to @oconso for the banners and to @themandaloriansdiaries for all the help plotting and for listening to my complaining <3

running from: November 1st to December 31st - every Tuesday, Thursday and on the weekends

tagged under: merry smutmas xoxo 

November 1st: Sebastian Vettel - Sticky Fingers 

Your husband spends his first Christmas at home since his retirement and he went a little.. a lot over board. 

November 4th: Trent Alexander Arnold - As Red As My Stockings 

Trent’s crush on the pretty physio is well known amongst the players. They make sure to help him fulfil one last Christmas wish before you all head home for the holidays.

November 5th: Pato O’Ward - Snow Storms 

Your boyfriend insists the roads are fine to drive despite the massive incoming snow storm; as someone who grew up in cold weather, you knew better. yet, there you were stuck on the side of the road with him in the snow. 

November 7th: Ruben Dias - Miss Me, Miss Me

Your brother holds his annual Christmas party and you’re forced to spend the afternoon with the one person you had been avoiding all season but tis’ the season you guess. (stones!reader)

November 9th: Pierre Gasly - Cocoa

You have your boyfriend drive all around the city until you find the one thing you were looking for. When you finally find it, you decide you want something else. 

November 11th: Ben Chilwell - Snowflakes On The Glass 

Ben insists on having a snowball fight when he wakes up to the massive snowfall but you want nothing more than to stay in bed. 

November 12th: Kimi Raikkonen - Only The Best For You 

Kimi spends the holidays with his old friends. He doesn’t forget you; bringing you exactly what you had been wishing for and you make sure to thank him.. properly. (dad’s best friend!kimi) 

November 14th: Lucas Paquetá - Spin Me Around 

Lucas busts out the champagne and the streamers to celebrate the new years in your new place. 

November 16th: Yuki Tsunoda - Sous Chef 

Yuki finds himself more fascinated by the woman cooking than the food on his plate for once. (chef!reader) 

November 18th: Erling Haaland - Christmas On The Farm 

Erling takes you home to spend the holidays at the Haaland Family Farm and you two end up being the only ones there. 

November 19th: Lance Stroll - Old Friends 

Lance gets an invitation to an old teammate’s place to ring in the new year but he finds himself too distracted by someone in particular to care about the ball dropping (vettel!reader)

November 21st: Jude Bellingham - Ugliest Sweater Wins

Jude is invited to Luka’s Christmas party, an ugly Christmas sweater party to be exact. It took a bit of convincing but you got him to go. 

November 23rd: Daniel Ricciardo - The Flash Of The Camera 

You enlist Daniel to help you with your Christmas gift for him. 

November 25th: John Stones - Black Out 

Your boyfriend blows a fuse with the Christmas lights and you’re stuck in the dark, but you find a way to make the best of it. 

November 26th: Fernando Alonso - Your Pick 

Fernando enlists the help of a certain someone to get his Christmas shopping done but the list is oddly familiar (pr officer!reader)  

November 28th: Kostas Tsimikas - The Smell Of The Holidays 

You over baked for your niece’s holiday bake sale so you do the neighbourly thing and share with your neighbour, Kostas and his two puppies.

November 30th: Toto Wolff - Winter Wonderland 

Your husband skips out on Christmas every year due to work but this year, he ends up in London. You make it your mission to introduce him to some holiday fun.

December 2nd: Christian Pulisic - Ho Ho Hoe

You find a pair of Christmas boxers in Christian’s drawers and decide to tease him about it. 

December 3rd: Mick Schumacher - Merry Ruff-mas 

Angie goes missing the day before Christmas and Mick finds her at the neighbouring ranch, wrapped up with ribbon and bows. 

December 5th: Jordan Henderson - Shivers

Jordan comes in after shovelling the driveway and keeps trying to love on you. You tell him that you can feel how cold he is but he makes sure to show you what cold really feels like. 

December 7th: Lewis Hamilton - Tis’ The Season 

An old friend finds his way to you front door and no matter how much you try to get rid of him, you can’t. 

December 9th: Dominik Szoboszlai - Come Home 

The two of you are separated over the holidays and you’re missing each other a little too much to keep this going. 

December 10th: Charles Leclerc - The Night Before Christmas 

A massive snow storm delays Charles’ flight home for the holidays and you both begin to give up hope but a Christmas miracle occurs.

December 12th: Virgil Van Dijk - Holiday Greetings 

You send your old friend a Christmas card every year and when he sees that a certain someone was no longer in the picture, he pays you a long overdue visit. 

December 14th: Mark Webber - A New Term 

You send your professor an email over the winter break and the man wonders why you’re still working, urging you to come out and relax like everyone else. (Professor!Webber) 

December 16th: Thiago Alcantara - Bubbles 

You find yourself aching from all the holiday prep and your husband being the good man that he was, makes sure you’re feeling okay after a long day. 

December 17th: Jenson Button - A Sandy Christmas 

Jenson takes you on a dream vacation over the holidays but still makes sure you’ve got a gift to open come Christmas morning. (Sugar Daddy!Jenson) 

December 19th: Kylian Mbappe - Family’s Growing 

Kylian finds himself swooning over how good you are with his niece and nephew, the thought of having a family with you spins around his head. 

December 21st: Carlos Sainz Jr - Traditions 

Coming back from Christmas with your family, the two of you return to Spain to celebrate new years with his family and all their traditions. 

December 23rd: Andy Robertson - Mistletoe Means Kisses 

The overpowering smell of mistletoe hits you when you walk into he house, your husband came up with his own plan while you were out. 

December 24th: George Russell - A New Tradition 

You and George spend your first Christmas together and you mash together the traditions from both of your families. 

December 26th: Jack Grealish - Always Around 

A wild new years night out leaves you bumping the same person over and over again. 

December 28th: Esteban Ocon - The Gift Of Giving 

Esteban takes a liking to the barista that works at the cafe near his place. He finally works up the courage to ask her out in time for the holidays. 

December 30th: Sergio Ramos - Secret Santa 

The players and the staff play secret Santa every year; they write a letter, toss in a box and everyone picks. Sergio some how lands on the person he’s always had a soft spot for. 

December 31st: Max Verstappen - Time Is Running Out 

Max wasn’t one for resolutions but as the clock counts down the hours to new years, he finds himself running to resolve the biggest resolution on his list; you. 

[green-typewriterz]

i would love literally anything sam winchester related the lack of fics r astounding.. maybe something fluffy?? ive had a bad week would so cheer me up

Best fake-real husband

ASKS ARE OPEN

Sam Winchester x fem!reader

Summary: You and Sam go undercover in a small town to find out what's been happening to the disappearing couples.

ASK: above

Warnings: typical supernatural violence, awkward moments, mid season sam (in my mind it’s season 5 so its not following canon plot)

Author notes: Thankyou so much for the ask!!! I hope this is good :))) also Sam is the leader of the Sassy man army and if you don’t think so you can leave. Also thank you to @midsummeranderson for helping me plan <3

word count: 4110

You had always hated suburban houses, they just seemed empty, unforgiving. Though you didn’t have much of a choice. Bobby had a case and you two were to go undercover.

”Husband and wife…” Sam began, a glint in his eyes as he moved around the open plan kitchen, opening the windows to salve the heat that bit at their necks.

You smiled in reply, laying out weapons to move to the spare room. “Not awkward at all.” You replied and he laughed, shrugging his usual flannel onto a chair and digging into his bag.

Sam looked up, smiling, holding two rings in his hand. “Nope. I’m going to be the best fake-real husband ever. Dean thinks I can’t and I’m kinda determined to prove him wrong.” You sigh and shake your head, but there’s no annoyance behind it. Trust Dean to make a game out of it.

A piece of hair fell in front of his eyes - it’s so long now that it reaches his shoulders, princelike. “Well then I guess I’ll have to be a good wife.” He hummed in agreement and you tucked his hair back behind his ear and a smile spread across his face. “Looks like I’m off to a good start, Sam Heathcliff.”

You gently slipped the ring onto your finger, the metal slightly too big for you. It was your grandmothers, a mix of silver and sapphire. Sam places his dad’s wedding band on his own hand, fiddling with it gently. It made you smile softly, how the ring was cold against your skin - your grandmother had always wanted you to wear it.

A knock at the door pulled you out of your memories and the two of you looked to each other with confusion, Dean wasn’t meant to be here until later that evening. You opened the door cautiously, flitting into character when you saw a 57 year old woman holding a large pie in her hands.

She grinned cheerily, pushing the dish forward into your hands as she spoke, you didn’t really have another choice but to take it (you’d probably hand it off to Dean later.) “Hi,” the voice sounded fake, satirical. She never met your eyes, she was almost entirely focused on Sam. “I heard there was a new couple in town, thought I’d do the neighbourly thing and say hi.” She began, flicking her hair over her shoulder in a particularly suggestive manner. “We’d love to have you over this weekend, monthly barbeque.”

You looked at Sam, who looked entirely uncomfortable with the attention he was receiving and wrapped your arms around his waist. “We’d love to…” you waited for a name, the woman smiled with annoyance, as if she hated you speaking to her.

“Helen. Watson.”

The two of you introduced yourself and agreed to go, knowing the gathering would be useful to get information. With one last glance at Sam, Helen turned around and left, allowing you to breathe a sigh of relief.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

Dean came round that evening, constantly grinning and mocking and (as you had expected) he greeted the pie with open arms. “Look you two,” he began, as if he were an expert on the subject, “You’re practically a couple already, just… act like you’re in your honeymoon phase for the old women.”

He stated this as if it were an obvious fact and you raised your brows at his use of the word ‘honeymoon’. Sam looked away in annoyance (Something Dean found extremely funny). It seemed as though the younger Winchester couldn’t wait to get rid of Dean and so, as soon as he had finished his pie, he was forced out the door and back to the impala. There was a second sigh of relief when the door closed.

Though it had seemed like a smart idea at the time, the two of you were sorely regretting filling the spare room with hunting gear as it had left you with one bedroom. “I’ll take the couch,” Sam said as he gathered some clothes to sleep in, you stood in the doorway, arms folded as you shook your head.

“Not a chance, you’d barely fit on this bed imagine how uncomfortable you'd be downstairs.” You argued and he shook his head, trying to claim that he’d slept worse. Eventually, the two of you came to an agreement. Sam would sleep over the covers, you’d sleep under them (he always got hot at night anyway - especially during the summer).

You excused yourself to the bathroom and by the time you had gotten back Sam was already asleep, long hair falling gently over his eyes. You lay down beside him and got comfortable, though you forgot just how much Sam moved in his sleep. He seemed to subconsciously move closer to you, warm, tan skin flush against yours.

His face was inches from yours, holding a gentle smile as if he were happily dreaming (though that was something that didn’t happen often). You gently moved the hair from his eyes and he moved closer still, broad shoulders brushing against you. You fell asleep in the comfort of his warmth and awoke with his arms wrapped securely around you. He wasn’t awake yet, you always woke up before him.

You eventually found it in yourself to move from his grip and headed downstairs, intending to make breakfast for the two of you. He was downstairs a few moments later, hair a sweet, tousled mess on his head. You smiled sweetly but neither of you spoke - there wasn’t much need to.

The two of you seemed to move around each other as if you had been married for years as you got ready for the barbeque, passing each other what you needed wordlessly. Chalk it up to years of hunting together.

“Todays gonna be entertaining for me.” You stated, a smirk on your face. He tilted his head in confusion as if he were a dog and you smiled, eyes drifting to his shoulders for a moment. “C’mon Sam, it’s a town of 47 year old women who hate their husbands and you’re a - very awkward - 6 '4 man. A handsome one at that.” He blushed and turned away, continuing to get ready.

His hands fiddled with the jacket in front of him. “Yeah, so?” You smiled at him, opening the front door as you spoke again.

“So, it’s gonna be fun watching you squirm.” Your smile turned to a grin and Sam shook his head, following you out the door.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

You were right, as expected. Although most were fine, one specific group of women made an exaggerated effort to fan themselves, whispering to each other about Sam. They almost immediately ushered you over. You sent a look to your best friend and headed toward them.

Immediately, they began to gossip, asking you about how you and Sam met and you could barely get a word in edgeways. There were compliments thrown at you too, but you knew they were just to stop you ‘feeling jealous.’

“How did you get so lucky?” One woman, Helen, asked. Her voice was wrought with envy as she stared over at Sam. Part of you understood why they were staring, Sam looked strangely good in the traditional small town husband attire. His white polo had a few buttons undone and the fabric was tight on his arms (Dean had ordered the wrong size) and his long hair was held back from his head by a pair of sunglasses, a few stray pieces falling over his eyes. The only part you weren’t a fan of was the khaki shorts…but it seemed to be the dress code in the town so you brushed it off - you and Dean would probably make fun of him for it later. He felt his gaze on you and turned to meet your eyes, smiling softly and winking. The women around you giggled and you rolled your eyes, to which he laughed.

It turned out that talking to the four women was the best thing for the case, they absolutely adored gossip. “Couples have been going missing, it always starts with the husbands.” Margaret whispered excitedly, “It happened to the couple who were here before you, sweet things.” she continued, sipping on a glass of wine.

You tilted your head, something Sam recognised from a distance, you’d had an idea. “Do they leave anything behind? People can’t just disappear?” You asked, pulling your hand through your hair.

Helen shook her head. “The damn council barely clean out the houses.” You nodded. Bingo. If the house hadn’t been thoroughly cleaned, chances are there’d be evidence. Helen continued to ramble and you were listening intently, until a hand gently slid onto your waist.

You let out a gasp but the strong smell of cedarwood and amber calmed you down. You knew exactly who it was. His grip pulls tighter around you and you lean into him, head resting on his chest. You felt your face flush - something you were praying he didn’t notice.

“How did you two meet?” One woman asked and you looked at each other, making sure without ever even speaking that you had the story right.

Sam leaned his head on yours and sweetly said, “why don’t you take this one, honey.” his eyes sparkled with mischief, he was trying to throw you off and the hand that was massaging your side was proof of that.

You met his eyes with the same excitement, if he wanted to play, you were really going to go for it. “We both worked as government agents, met on the field. Hence all the scars.” The women nodded in realisation, looking at some of the injuries you hadn’t quite managed to hide. “He wasn’t the biggest fan of mine at first but I grew on him, isn’t that right darling?”

Sam nodded, his eyes not leaving yours as he replied, “and now I don’t want to be without her ever again.” He found that sentence to be more true than he thought.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

Sam sent an exasperated look your way as he raked a hand through his hair (and sadly took the glasses off his head). “How were the boys?” you asked with a smile and he turned to make sure no one was watching before dropping the facade.

“I’m actually shocked how much I don’t know about football.” He replied and you both laughed, him leaning into you as he smiled. He looked outside at the group of gossipping women before adding on, “they seemed…friendly.”

You laughed, “to you, sure, but I think it’s because they want you in their bed.” The sentence was blunt and Sam’s eyes widened, cheeks blushing a strong red. You, however, continued as if you had never said anything, “I think it could be witches? We’d have to search for hex bags though.” He nodded, not meeting your eyes (he was slightly flustered).

The two of you eventually said your goodbyes and made your way down the street, Sam looked annoyed with himself. “What’s up?”

He sighed, “this one guy, Glenn, roped me into holding a housewarming party…” You stared at him incredulously, did he not try to say no? Sam recognised the look in your eyes and defended himself, “the man was incredibly persuasive!” You shook your head but knew there was no way out of it. You weren’t the best at party planning.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

The long stretch of grocery store met you as you and Sam stood in the doorway. You didn’t often do this as hunters so it was a slightly daunting task. You looked at each other with tired eyes and went your separate ways, deciding to cover ground as if it were a hunt…just for nachos.

You rounded a corner only to see Helen stood there. Not wanting to be stuck in conversation again, you instantly turned on your heel, hiding behind a row of sauces. Though, something caught your eye. In Helen’s basket, clearly hidden just not very well, was a large amount of herbs and salt. What got you interested was the extreme amount of basil and sage.

Witches. Had to be.

Sam approached you, smiling gently. Something about the situation made him look so… domestic. You tried to motion to him what you were thinking but he seemed so fixated on you, his reaching out for yours. “Can you do your job?” you spoke, the words sounding harsher than you had intended. He instantly pulled back, face twisting with annoyance.

“What?”

“Take the hint, Sam. Behind me.”

You continued to whisper back and forth in annoyance, alerting Helen who watched in confusion. You quickly turned to look at her and sighed as she approached, hiding the herbs with the rest of her groceries. “Lovers quarrel?” she joked and the two of you laughed in the same way Bobby would when Dean told another of his bad jokes.

Sam made excuses as you looked at her, trying to see if you could spot any witch runes on her. It seemed as though she was trying to do the same to you. “Well isn’t that tattoo…neat!” She said, trying to hide the venom in her voice as she pointed out the anti-possession tattoo on your collarbone. Great.

You looked at Sam in annoyance and turned back to Helen. “Thanks! I saw it in a magazine!” You tried to explain away but you knew you’d been caught, she had spotted you and you her. Though she was very keen to stay in conversation, Sam made a quick excuse and you both left as soon as you could.

“Told you it was witches.”

Sam didn’t reply. The car journey back was completely silent, an unspoken annoyance building in the both of you. Neither of you said a word until the front door closed. “Nice job letting her see the tattoo.” Sam said annoyedly, turning to look at you.

You sighed and turned away, packing away the groceries. “Maybe if you spent less time flirting and more time actually hunting we’d be done by now! This isn’t exactly a hard case, we don't need more bodies to our name.” The reply was sharp and annoyed.

He suddenly grabbed your wrist so you’d look at him. “I’m doing my job just fine.” His eyes were locked with yours. You stepped closer.

“No, you’re not. You’re distracted.” Sam scoffed, his minty breath fanning against your cheek from how close you were. His hand was still firmly on your wrist.

An annoyed smile spread across his face and a muscle in his neck tensed. “Oh yeah? And why would I be distracted?” You stared directly at him, from his long hair that fell over his unreadable gaze to the smoothness of his bronzed skin.

You found yourself stepping closer again. “You tell me.”

There was a crushing silence, the only sound being your sharp breaths. Suddenly, Sam’s grip on your hand moved to your waist and he pulled you into him, his lips colliding with yours. You leaned into him, hands grabbing his hair harshly. He kissed you as if he were hungry, as if he had been waiting for years - maybe he had. He lifted you easily and sat you on the kitchen counter, leaning back from the kiss for a split second. His chest rose quickly in hot breaths as he kissed you again. You bit his bottom lip - letting blood drip as his hands gripped your skin.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

The party was loud and irritating, there wasn’t a moment where you had time for yourself, not one point where you weren’t ’y/n Heathcliff’. You and Sam had barely talked after the evening before - you didn’t know what to say.

You knew Helen would be at the party, not only would it be good to keep up appearances but she could get her next victim from it. Sam sent you a look and you nodded once, heading toward the spare bedroom in search of weapons, just in case.

A small, easily hidden knife was being placed into your waistband when Sam opened the door, closing it harshly behind him. “Sorry,” he said quietly, “had to get away from Miriam.”

You laughed gently and went back to preparing, not wanting to meet his eyes. “Helen’s here.”

“I know.”

Silence again. You sighed, “and you just left her out there? Alone?” His brows furrowed and he offered a witty remark, starting another hushed argument between the two of you.

On the other side of the door, Miriam and Margaret pressed their ears to the wood, giggling like school children at how the argument sounded to them. Through the muffled walls, all they could hear was gasps and sharp noises - of course they assumed what they wanted.

Sam’s hands pushed through his hair as he sighed, uncertain of what to do, when suddenly the door started opening. He rushed forward and pushed against it, rushing out a quick, “one moment!” All he heard in reply was laughs.

“What do we do?” He asked nervously and you stood still, nervous, until a thought popped into your head. You held your hands out - asking for permission and, once he nodded, you placed your hands gently in his soft hair, ruffling it. It annoyed you how he still managed to look good.

Then, once he had done the same for you, you looked him up and down, deciding his outfit was far too…tidy. First it was one button undone, then another (you unbuttoned a third for personal reasons). A blush rose on the tips of his ears.

He went to open the door when you realised something was still missing and, in a quick moment of panic, you rushed forward and grabbed his face, kissing him harshly on the lips (you were purposely trying to smudge your lipstick onto him). Sam made a noise in shock but found himself leaning into it, eyes lingering closed for a moment longer after you had pulled away.

Shit. He thought. He definitely liked you.

Eventually, the door was opened and Sam met the two women with an awkward smile. “Oh!’ Margaret began, giggling, “I was going to offer a drink, but I see you’re occupied…” The woman looked at one another, laughed again and walked away, leaving Sam blushing with embarrassment. The door was closed once more and when you were both sure they had walked away, laughter spilt into the room.

He shook his head and smiled, stepping closer to you. “Close one.” You smiled gently, staring into his eyes (the light was hitting them perfectly). There was silence again - neither of you knew what to do.

”Are we ever going to talk about last night?” You asked, thinking about how his hands felt on your skin. His features turned more serious as he sat down on the bed.

He stared at you, lipstick still in a smudge on his face. “I’m not sure what to say about it.” You neared him, hands trailing over his shoulders. Then, slowly, you leaned into him, lifting his chin with your finger as you felt his soft lips against yours. There was something impossibly gentle about it and you weren’t sure anyone had kissed you that softly before.

”Maybe we don’t need to say anything.”

He smiled. You kissed the corner of his grin and headed back downstairs, attempting to fix your hair as you went. You were met with stares as you entered the kitchen - Miriam had most definitely told everyone… at least it sold the cover.

Time passed with an almost excruciating level of slowness and Sam not making a re-entrance back downstairs wasn’t helping either (you had no one to distract you). Eventually, the party cleared out yet Sam was nowhere to be seen - now you began to panic.

You said goodbye to the final few neighbours and headed back upstairs, calling Sam’s name. The lack of response worried you. The first door by the stairs - the one that unfortunately led to your weapons room - was ajar, scratches around the lock. You pulled the dagger from your waistband and slowly opened the door, sighing as you saw the bloodstain on the floor. You had a feeling you knew who had taken him and where he had gone.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

You had managed to track him to Helen’s house, hiding around the back to get a good view through the sliding glass doors. Sat, tied to a chair in the middle of the main room, was Sam. His face was bruised and bloody and his expression looked annoyed, chest heaving with sharp breaths. Helen, Miriam and Margaret circled around him, playing with his hair and gathering items they needed for the spell.

”Poor Sam,” Helen began - you assumed she was the leader, “you’d think you’d be able to fight back against three 57 year olds.” Miriam headed into the kitchen as Margaret laughed, they almost reminded you of the witches from Macbeth.

”You’d also think, considering she’s a hunter, that your ‘wife’ would be better at hiding.” Suddenly, a surprisingly strong pair of hands grabbed you, pushing you against the wall.

You struggled against the grip but it was no use, your hands being painfully tied behind your back. Miriam ushered you into the living room, retiring you to a chair beside Sam. You met his eyes with an apologetic gaze and he returned it.

It was your turn to feel the bunt of the witches’ fun now, knives sliced at your skin and hair was cut from your head, you knew they’d done it somewhere visible on purpose. They grabbed at your face, nails digging into flesh and smiling as Sam protested.

Eventually, the three left the room and you and Sam began planning. You shuffled your chair toward him, trying to see if he could reach the dagger you always hid in your shoe. His hand brushed over your shin but he couldn’t reach any further.

With one final attempt, Sam tried to lean on the chair to reach, which ended with him toppling both chairs. He landed on top of you, his chest flush against yours. “Sorry.” He spoke, words hoarse from lack of breath.

Luckily for you, the fall had broken the ropes around your ankles and - though it hurt like hell - you manoeuvred your leg just enough to read the blade. Sam's hair tickled against your face and his lips tickled your neck - but that was something you’d have to think about later.

“Nice try you two.” Helen spoke as she waltzed back in. You hid the blade in your sleeve as your chair was fixed once more and while the three were busy working, you managed to slice through the ropes. you waited patiently, watching with a newfound confidence. Luckily for you, Maragaret was the type of witch to intimidate - her favourite tactic being getting as close as she could.

You took the opportunity and thrust the blade forward, stabbing through her throat. She screamed out and you stood up making your way over to the other two to fight. You took a fair few punches, but it was nothing new and soon enough the two others were on the floor too, holding onto the last of their life.

The large salt circle was immediately broken and Sam was freed, you apolising every time you accidentally touched any of his injuries. “That was badass.” Sam complimented and you laughed, leaning your hair back tiredly.

You turned away, starting to destroy the spell further as you spoke, “Ready to finally stop being husband and wife?” You asked and a small smirk rose on his face, hands snaking back over your waist again.

With sudden passion, he spun you back around, his eyes glinting. “Not really.”

With that, Sam lifted you off the ground, hands securely gripping your thighs as he kissed your neck. You had your back pushed against the wall as he moved to kiss your lips, your hands pulling at the back of his hair. He sighed and went to kiss you again when the front door swung open, revealing a disgusted (but slightly relieved) Bobby and a grinning Dean.

”We can explain?” Sam offered, gently lowering you back to the ground. You couldn’t look at one another.

Dean shook his head, smiling like a madman. “I don’t know Sammy, seems pretty obvious to me.” Then, with the same giddy happiness he turned to Bobby, who had since fished a ten dollar bill out of his pocket.

Typical. You and Sam shared an annoyed look as The other two hunters headed back out the door. ‘“C’mon you lovebirds,” Bobby began, “There’s a vamp nest in Chicago.”

[beefrobeefcal]

Being Neighbourly feat. Frankie Morales x neighbour f!reader

a HeftyThrowaway one shot drabble | Rated: 18+ | word count: 1,681 warnings: f masterbation, feeding, belly rubs, belly kink, oblivious people liking each other

A/N: Happy Frankie Friday, y'all! Here's a ditty that's been sitting in my wips for months. It's not Mouse and Frankie, but similar dynamic.

It was only a matter of time until you fell for one of your neighbours. And in doing so, you had proven that food was the way into a man’s heart… or bed.  

It started when you cooked up a batch of meatballs to freeze for future use on a Saturday afternoon. You had all the windows open to avoid overheating your apartment. Leaning out the window that faced the parking lot of your complex, you watched as Frankie parked his truck. As he walked towards the building, he looked around then up and waved at you. 

You gave a small smile and a wave, thinking that would be the end of it, when he called out to you. 

“Hey! Neighbour! Uh… is that you making something that smells good?” 

“Just meatballs.”, you called back. 

“Just meatballs, my ass. They smell amazing!” He looked like he wanted to say more but just smiled back at you. 

“Thank you! Um… do you want one?”, you said back, not sure why you only offered one when you had four trays of them. But his eager nodding and scampering into the building made you happy you did. 

You’d seen Frankie around the building in the usual places you meet your neighbours: the laundry room, the parking lot, the mailboxes. He was tall and lean minus the small tummy he sported, but still looked like he hadn’t had the comfort of a home cooked meal in a while. He seemed sweet and helpful, once even helping you bring your groceries up the stairs when the elevator was out of service. He lived in the suite right below you, and some nights, you’d hear him and another male voice out on the balcony, enjoying a blunt or a cigarette. Beyond that, you didn’t know much about him. 

After the initial introduction to Frankie as a guinea pig for your cooking, you found him to be quite handy to have around. For every issue you had in your suite that the landlord had ignored, Frankie had a fix. For every fix, you had a thank you meal ready for him. This became a regular occurrence and slowly turned into either you made enough food for both you and him then delivered it to his suite, or him joining you for dinner and you giving him the leftovers. This carried on for a while, and you noticed that Frankie’s small tummy was not so small anymore. The topic came up after he completely annulated an entire baking dish of your home-made enchiladas in one go. 

Sitting back at your table, his belly pushed out and stuffed, he sighed a little laugh. “Fuck, I just can’t help myself. You cook too good.” 

All you could do was smile and look down, trying to stop him from seeing the bashful glee on your face. You’d watched him eat the entire thing and all you wanted to do was go to his side, rub his stuffed belly, and feed him yourself. It had been a running theme in your head when you laid in bed at night, vibrator on high while you cried out his name. You’d never gotten off on anything like this, but it worked. You just wished it wasn’t a fantasy. 

“I mean it. I had to get new pants last week. Not that I’m complaining at all about your food.”, he reasoned, making sure you knew that he was not upset. “But if we’re gonna continue to be neighbours, I need a spandex wardrobe.” 

You both laughed at his little joke as he rubbed his belly, signalling an end to this topic. But god damn it, you wished you could just reach out and touch it, feel his belly and tell him he’s got more room in there, and then feed him. But you didn’t, and he continued to come around throughout the week for dinner; you both played this same routine: you made the food, and he ate it. It wasn’t lost on you that Frankie liked to eat, but what you didn’t notice was how much he really liked that it was you feeding him.  

On one Saturday summer night, you were sitting on your balcony, far later than you normally would be, enjoying a sangria. You heard the sliding door open below you from Frankie’s and could hear him and that other male voice talking.  

“Drop it, Pope.” 

“Dude, I can tell. It’s written all over your fucking face when she comes up. You’ve got it bad for this chick.“ 

“Fine. Yes. Happy?” 

“Sure. But you have to tell her. There’s no way-“ 

“Yeah, and have her laugh in my face? She’s not into me like that.” 

“And how the fuck would you know?” 

“Because she’s too fucking gorgeous and out of my league.” 

Your heart dropped; Frankie was head over heels for someone - someone who wasn’t you. Before you could quietly leave your balcony and mope inside, you heard the other voice, Pope, say, “No one feeds you like that if they don’t at least like you, Francisco.” 

You froze.  

Frankie sighed. “Fuck you, man.” 

“All I’m saying is if a beautiful woman like that keeps inviting you back to her table when you’re getting fat on her cooking, you’re in. You just got to make a move.” 

The last thing you heard Frankie say as they began their exit from the balcony was, “Shit, Pope. I’m fucking hungry.”, followed by the two men laughing. 

You sat silently on your balcony and let a breath out that you didn’t realize you were holding in. You ventured inside and laid in your bed.  

**** 

You had made yourself scarce the rest of the weekend, no sure how to interact with him after what you had heard, but you’d returned home exhausted from work on the following Monday to find a note on your door form Frankie that read: 

Want to go out for dinner? You can have a night off.  

x F  

You grinned to yourself, hopeful that this was Frankie trying to make a move and went into your apartment, got changed into a more casual outfit, and headed down to Frankie’s. 

He opened the door and gave you a big smile while telling you where he was going to take you - his favourite Tex-Mex restaurant.  

The car ride over started a little awkward, but you soon fell into an easy conversation. 

“So why the dinner out? Sick of my cooking?”, you poked, watching to see how he would react. 

“Fuck no!”, Frankie barked out laughing. “I just figured that maybe I could get dinner for you, and since there’s not a snowflake’s chance in hell that I could even compare to you in the kitchen, I thought I’d take you to my favourite place to eat… other than your table, of course.” 

You felt your cheeks turn pink and you could feel Frankie smiling at you. You felt bold as you thought of what you’d heard on Saturday night and wanted to test the waters. 

You reached out and put your hand on his that was on the gear stick. “Thank you, Frankie. You’ll have to show me your favourites on the menu.” 

Frankie sucked in a breath at your touch and nodded. “Yeah… uh, I pretty much like everything they have.” 

You smiled and nodded. 

***** 

“Recommendations?”, you asked looking over your menu. 

“Well, like I said, I pretty much like everything. But my favourites are, uh, the burritos and fajitas. Can’t go wrong with those, and the elote is great, too.” 

Once again, you felt bold. Without the restrictions of what you had cooked and the ingredients you had on hand, Frankie could really let himself loose in here and you were more than happy to encourage him. 

“How about you order, Frankie? I normally decide what I’m cooking, so you get to decide tonight. Order to your heart’s content – I’m in.”, you say, leaning forward and cocking your head. 

Frankie’s eyebrows twitched and his lips parted. His tongue flicked out and he nodded. “You sure you’re up for that? It’ll be a lot of food.” 

“I’ll be fine, Frankie. The question really is will you be okay. Because food is more of a spectator’s sport for me when I’m with you.”, you say with a wink.  

Frankie just stared back at you, his breathing getting quicker. His brain was trying to wrap around that fact that Pope was right: you were into him and like to feed him. He thought he’d died and gone to heaven. 

Before he could pinch himself, the waitress approached the table. Frankie placed the order – it was a lot of food - and you just sat back and smirked as he spoke. 

“You sure you’re gonna be able to handle all that, Frankie?”, you questioned with a wry smile and teasing tone. 

Frankie gave you a flirtatious grin and took your hand. “Yeah, and there’ll even be room for dessert.” 

By the time Frankie had eatten two plates of food, he was sitting back in the booth, finishing his pop.  

“How’re you doing? You still got another plate.”, you gave him a coquettish smile, pushing the plate forward to him. 

“Oh, honey. I’m full.”, Frankie chuckled, patting his belly. 

He watched as you got out of your side of the booth and slid in next to him. Throughout the meal, you and Frankie dropped silent hints as to where you both wanted this to go. You again felt emboldened and reached out to rub his belly. He watched you, his eyes pleading with you to keep going. 

You leaned in and purred into his ear before nuzzling it with your nose, “Oh, Frankie. You’re not that full, are you?” 

Frankie shivered and gulped. Once he had cleared the last plate, Frankie huffed out a breath and tried to hide a small burp. You sat at his side, continuing to console his overstuffed tummy, and gave him a kiss on his cheek. 

“What’s next?”, Frankie asked, looking at you with a lazy smile.  

--------<3---------

No tag list! follow @beefnotes for fic notifications!

[scarletttries]

Kendall Roy x Neighbour! Reader Headcanons

Pairing: Kendall Roy x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Smut, Dark!Kendall obsessive vibes, dub-con, reader discretion advised :)

Request: "Hi Scarlett! I was wondering if you could write a scenario when you just moved in Kendall's apartment and became a neighbor and he is obsessed with u emotionally and sexually??🥵🥵

Author’s Note: Thank you for this intense request, it was a lot of fun to write some dark Kendall as we all know this man would be capable of ANYTHING. Please don't read if you might feel upset by dark/obsessive/coercive themes :)

Dark! Kendall Roy x Neighbour!Reader Headcanons:

- Kendall Roy had lived in his building as long as he could remember, but he was sure he'd never met any of his neighbours, let alone learned their names. Maybe it was his weird hours of operation, maybe his security usually kept him from chance encounters, or maybe none of them ever seemed noteworthy enough to remember. Before you.

- He's not sure exactly how the stars aligned perfectly enough for him to end up bumping into you the day you moved into the one rent-controlled apartment in his building (he'd always found that surprisingly progressive for the otherwise snooty building, sure it must be to exploit a tax loophole), but from the moment he saw you carrying a box and directing delivery people with carefully wrapped up furniture, he knew he had to have you.

- He'd heard the commotion from the stairwell after returning home one day, curiously following the noise to see which rich, old, white man he'd be living across an expansive hall from now, surprised to find young, beautiful you. The picture of innocence, drawing him in with your magnetic energy until he clears his throat, making you jump and sending a dark shiver down his spine at the reaction. He watches you smile so so brightly as you crouch to the floor, setting down the boxes in your arms before springing back to your feet to shake his hand, but not before Kendall can enjoy the opportunity to stare down at you from above, sure he'd have you in this position again, if it was the last thing he did.

- All night your simple conversation would rattle through his mind, the way you repeated his name after he said, politely pretending you don't know exactly who he is, his name on your tongue sounding sweeter than it ever has before. It leaves him wondering how sweet your tongue would be on him in any other circumstances, and before he fully realises what he's doing his hand has slipped into his shorts and he's picturing you back on your knees, choking around him.

- Ever the gracious neighbour Kendall would send you an elaborate basket of expensive gifts to welcome you to the building. There'd be innocent things like designer home fragrances and fine imported coffee, but Kendall being Kendall, there'd also be chocolate covered strawberries, a bottle of champagne, and spa-quality cocoa butter massage oil. Everything he'd need to make you feel right at home for the night. When you appear at his door to thank him, almost bouncing for joy as you gush about his generosity, he's so sure he can smell a trace of cocoa butter, picturing you rubbing it all over yourself and thinking only of him.

- His infatuation with you only gets worse when his sexual desires become more emotionally founded: One night you'll knock on his door, later than a normal neighbourly conversation and Kendall will think you've finally come to return his primal feelings. As he flings the door open you look almost apologetic - you saw a headline about Waystar offices being under investigation and you wanted to check that he was feeling okay. It's a simple enough gesture, but it's one that cuts right to the core of Kendall, who so rarely has anyone check in and ask him how he's doing. And here you are, his perfect neighbour, cooing sweetly as you tell him it's going to be okay, and gently squeezing his hand, the embodiment of kindness and empathy, the antithesis of his family. And he knows you must be his and his alone, that he needs this from you every moment, of every day.

- After that night his obsession starts to get worse, barely able to make it through the night without a barrage of sweet, sensual dreams playing over and over in his mind of exactly what you'd do to take care of every part of him. He can't bear the thought of you with anyone else, installing a doorbell camera so he can keep an eye on your routine, making sure you don't bring home anyone that might get in his way. He learns your comings and goings so he can bump into you at his favourite times, usually on your way back from the gym, drinking in the way your exposed skin glows with a thin sheen of sweat, sure he could give you just as good of a workout if you let him. Sometimes he'll arrive home just in time to help you carry groceries inside, peering inside your bags to find out a little more about what you like, and thinking about a world where he gets to be the person you make homemade meals for.

- He finds himself obsessing over how to take the next step with you, how to secure you as his, sexually and emotionally. He thinks about sending more gifts, this time a lingerie set and a vibrator for when you want to think of him alone at night. Sometimes he thinks about trying to install a camera in your apartment when he knows you're home, waiting for a glimpse of you touching yourself and knocking on the door to give you a hand. In the end he goes for something a little bit more subtle, just hoping all the dominoes will fall into place.

- The wait for the perfect moment is agonising though, and some nights Kendall can't help but picture just tying you to his bed frame and keeping you there at his mercy for as long as it takes for you to accept that you belong to him. He's sure if he can make you cum enough times then eventually you'll see that he's always going to take care of you, and you'll have everything you need with him.

- But instead he waits until one day when you come back from the gym, avoiding his usual attempt to bump into you and letting you get straight home and into the shower as always. Then with a well-timed, and urgent, knock on the door he draws you out of your apartment in just your towel, having safely retreated to his own, watching through the doorbell camera as you take one, two, three steps into the hall, dripping from every inch of your skin, an absolute vision. And as if the universe is rewarding his genius, right on time, your apartment door locks shut behind you, leaving you in the hall in just your towel, no keys, no phone, no way back inside.

- Kendall has stop himself from ripping the door off its hinges the second you rap your knuckles gingerly against it, pretending to look confused by your state of undress as you explain, mortified, that you got locked out and you'd been in the shower, and does he have the number for the building manager or a spare key? Kendall ushers you inside, saying he'll make a call to the building manager, but 'he might be a while because he always takes Wednesdays off' offering to put on coffee while you wait. Wrapping yourself tightly in your towel you hover awkwardly in the doorway, trying not to think about what your one cute neighbour must think of you.

- Thrilled with how this is going so far, you almost naked in his home, with nowhere else to go, he offers you a seat, insisting you try this new massage chair he's just bought for himself, telling you it's the best money can buy, completely top of the line and will melt your worries away. Feeling so bad for intruding already you can hardly say no, tucking as much of the towel around you as possible, accepting that there's no way to sit that won't have all your most sensitive skin pressed bare against the satin soft fabric. Perching on the arm of the chair beside yours Kendall starts to toy with the small remote, telling you you're going to feel amazing in no time. Surely enough as he presses the controls the chair starts to vibrate all over, kneading against your shoulders and inner thighs, a strong vibration emanating right against your entrance.

- Kendall notices the way your whole body jolts as the sensations start, the way your cheeks start to flush rosy pink as every nerve in your body is stimulated to perfection, your bare skin rubbed and massaged by the tiny movements of the chair. You try and take a breath to ground yourself, now even more embarrassed at how incredible the vibrations felt, sending tremours through your centre that made every inch of you feel endlessly sensitive. Clenching your thighs together didn't help, only amplifying the waves of bliss washing over you, but Kendall certainly noticed when you did.

"Feels great right!" He laughed darkly, watching you squirm as your bare pussy rubs against the shaking fabric, no escape from the overwhelming pleasure no matter how you shift your body. You could only hum in agreement, biting your lip to stop a moan following it, trying desperately to keep hold of yourself, not wanting your hot neighbour to see you make even more of a mess of yourself today.

- The soft kneading down your spine had you arching your back, your nipples getting more and more obvious through the thin wet towel the more cold and sensitive and excited you got. Kendall could see the shame and powerlessness and embarrassment building on your face as your body betrayed you, your hands gripping the side of the chair as if maybe you could hold on long enough if you just really focused.

"Kendall, I-" You tried to stand up while your legs could still hold your weight, hoping you could pretend to be more comfortable standing, and praying the water dripping off your body would cover up any wet patch you might have left. But as you leant forward, Kendall stepped in front of you, barely having to push your trembling thighs back down to keep you in place, a devilish grin on his face as he watched your eyes widen at his actions.

"You can't move yet sweetheart, I haven't even shown you all the settings. I think we can make you feel even better." The glint in his eye made you want to run out the door for help, but as he pressed one button and the vibrations whirred faster and stronger you found yourself fixed to your spot, the feelings of ecstasy building inside you and leaving you completely at his control.

"See, I can take care of you. I promise, you've never had someone take care of you like I can." Kendall cooed as his fingers stroked lazily up your thighs, adding to the overwhelming sensation already coursing through your veins. "Say the word, and I'll take care of every part of you, every fucking day." His voice was laced with such intensity you could feel yourself getting wetter as he spoke, unclear about how you ended up in this position, but starting to get the impression none of this was accidental. You watched his fingertips graze along the edge of your towel, looking up to see what you made of his offer and breaking into a wide grin as you nodded your head back at him, trying to speak but only being able to moan out his name in response.

"Good girl." He teased back, turning the dial up one more time before unceremoniously pulling open your towel just in time to watch your whole body shake with pleasure as your release cascaded through every part of you, your pussy throbbing from the release around nothing, thighs twitching under Kendall's hands as he kept you firmly planted in that spot until he was positive you couldn't take another second. Finally helping you rise to your unsteady feet he'd plant his lips against yours, hungry to taste you, unsure how he'd waited even this long to finally feel you lean into him, lips soft and warm, your skin sensitive everywhere his hands met it. Looking down at your wet naked body, cheeks still flush with a tinge of shame, he licked his lips and chuckled, "We're going to have so much fun, neighbour."

- Once that threshold is past, there's no going back for Kendall. He'll steal all your underwear and make you sit on his lap just so he can toy with you, watching you squirm like the first time, peppering your neck with kisses until you can't keep still. He'll hide your clothes when you're staying over at his so you're stuck there, wandering around his penthouse naked until he's seen enough.

- He'll wake you in the night with his fingers inn you, teasing your folds and strumming your clit until you beg him to fuck you, waking up the next morning full of his cum. He'll insist on pushing it back into you again and again, hoping that if he can get you pregnant, you'll stay by him forever.

- It's not just a sexual obsession, Kendall will come to you in all his darkest hours, collapsing on your lap and lamenting about the world while you stroke his hair and reassure him that the world hasn't ended on even his worst days.

- You are everything Kendall Roy has ever wanted for himself. He knew it from the moment he laid eyes on you, and he knows it every time you blush at his relentless teasing. And he'll never let anything take what he wants away from him.

[sxfterhearts]

neighbourly visits

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ idol!jiung x non-idol!reader ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

♡ genre/warnings: fluff inspired by recent events, childhood-neighbours!au

♡ word count: 2,422 words

♡ author’s note: ah choi jiung i wish you only good things. >_< i hope you get better soon and no longer feel any pain... i'm sure it was hard for you to stop activities, but i hope you take the time to rest and relax!!! i have not known you for long, but i want to know you for a long time ♡ also pics cred to the lovely tumblr owners!!!

//

“Hey stranger,” You called out from behind the sliding door that was left ajar, your head peeking through the gap to peer inside the hospital room.

“Hey yourself.” Jiung replied with a light chuckle.

You walked in. Walls covered in flowery 90’s wallpaper greeted you warmly, along with a mounted television playing news silently in the background, a small sofa and coffee table set in the corner and a large window with views of skyscrapers dotted along the side of the Han River. And of course, a single hospital bed with your ex-neighbour-turned-idol lying right on top of it.

“It’s a nice room.” You commented, curious eyes scanning your surroundings.

He scoffed. “Yeah, except now there’s a stain at the bottom of the walls from yesterday.” Jiung admitted sheepishly, hands coming up to rub the back of his neck in slight embarrassment.

“Ah…” You trailed off, setting down the two plastic bags you brought with you on his overbed table. “From when you flooded the bathroom?” You questioned, gentle and careful, nose scrunching up adorably.

“Don’t remind me…” He looked away. “I was so embarrassed! Oh my goodness… The head nurse laughed right in my face! I mean, it sounds like she thought it was funny, but I felt so bad.”

“I’m sure it’s fine, plus, who doesn’t like Krispy Kreme donuts?” “I hope so…”

“Anyways, I brought the goods, like you asked.” Your eyebrows cocked towards the bags, while you dragged a fold-up chair closer to his bedside.

Jiung’s eyes lit up at the mention of this. “You did?”

“Of course, who do you think I am?” You laughed, fingers moving to unpack the food. “Half and half wings, gold king and bburinkle flavoured, one pack of bburinkle cheese balls, and a large tteokbokki.” As you announced the order, you brought out the takeaway boxes one by one – soy sauce, sweet honey and garlic flavoured, then cheese powder flavoured wings; the mozzarella cheese balls that you both enjoyed and the large container filled with spicy rice cakes. “Oh, and Cass beer!”

“Y/N…” Jiung uttered, his mouth quickly salivating at the mention of his favourite meal: chicken and beer. “Are you an angel?”

You laughed out loud, cheeks turning a light shade of pink. You turned around, heading to the adjoined bathroom, hoping to hide your flustered expression. Too late, though, Jiung thought that shade of pink looked the cutest on you. “I think you’re just hallucinating from all the drugs they’ve put you under.” You replied. 

“I have been dreaming about this meal since I got admitted last week. You’re really saving my life, neighbour.” Jiung breathed out, still amazed at the generous spread of food. 

As you walked out, you saw Jiung swinging his legs to the edge of the bed. “Woah, hold on soldier, where do you think you’re going?”

He stopped, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. “To wash my hands.”

“No need for that. Sit down and rest – doctor’s orders, remember?” You reached into your handbag and pulled out a hand sanitiser, passing it over to him. “Use this instead. Plus, it’s BHC. They’re professionals. There’s gloves.”

At that, Jiung rolled his eyes at you. “I’m fine,” He drawled out, yet accepting your offer and sanitising his hands. “It’s not like I’m severely injured or anything.”

You gave him a pointed look, fully sceptical. “Right.” 

“I’m serious!”

“A ruptured thigh muscle, Jiung. You ruptured your thigh muscle.” You deadpanned, your motherly instincts firing up. “That’s a big deal! Just sit down and eat your chicken, okay?”

“Fine…” He grumbled, pouting as he pulled on his gloves. 

“So, how are you feeling about it?”

“About the leg? It’s fine. Honestly, it doesn’t even hurt that much.” Jiung paused to take a bite of the cheese ball, eyes closing in pure bliss as he did so. “So good. This always hits.”

“Okay, but that’s not what I meant.”

“What do you mean?”

You sighed, reaching for a can of beer and opening it for him. “You know what I mean…”

He accepted it, taking a big gulp as he thought through his response. “It’s… fine.” Jiung looked down, suddenly taking a lot of interest in the box of fried chicken in front of him.

“Are you really okay? You were preparing for such a long time. Your mum even told me that you were practising non-stop, even on Seollal, and most of Christmas through to New Years. She said she could only send you banchan this year and was really sad about not seeing you back home.”

“Hey,” He looked up. “Are you here to visit your sick neighbour or to guilt trip him for not visiting his family?” Jiung said before biting into a bburinkle flavoured wing.

“Firstly, ex-neighbour. You moved out years and years ago. Secondly, I’m not trying to guilt trip you. I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay.”

“Well, why do you care if you’re just my ex-neighbour?” Jiung countered in a quiet voice.

“That’s not what I - ” You stopped, sighing. “Okay, we both know you’re not just my ex-neighbour.”

“What am I then?” He looked you straight  in the eye.

The two of you engaged in a tense staring contest before the eye contact and the intensity behind his lids freaked you out. “My… My friend, okay? Geez, that’s not the point. Stop deflecting, Choi Jiung. I’ve known you for over a decade and you’re still the same. Always trying to avoid talking about your feelings.” You huffed, passing a pair of chopsticks to him and sliding over the container of tteokbokki. 

Jiung nodded his thanks, accepting the cutlery and digging in.

Silence ensued as the words hung over the pair of you. You ate quietly while Jiung slurped up his rice cakes like a starved man. He set down his chopsticks once he took a big bite, sighing. “Okay, fine. You got me. I’m not okay.”

“See! Jiung, you have to talk about your feelings.” You stopped, hands coming up to make vague gestures in the air to emphasise your point. “It’s important! You can’t just keep everything inside. Like,” You picked up a can of unopened beer. “Like this. If you keep it bottled inside and shake it too much, it’ll explode completely and make a mess. Please, just talk to me about it. How are you feeling, Choi Jiung?”

He grimaced internally at the use of his full name, the name his mother would use whenever she got mad at him. “Yeah, I’m not okay. I’m so not okay, Y/N.” He sighed again. At this point, you grew slightly concerned that he would then hurt his nostrils from heavy sighing. You shook the silly thought away to focus. “I’m not okay, because, you know what, yeah. You’re right. We have been practising for so long, and so hard. And I was so excited, and had so many sleepless nights trying to figure out how to do my solo, and what lyrics would go well for the song, and how to set up the stages, and what outfits would go together, and, and…” He took a deep breath to calm himself. Jiung could feel his eyes heat up and the corner of his lids prickling, tears beginning to gather slowly but surely. “And for all that to be taken away from me, it just feels so, so unfair.” His voice sounded so small and vulnerable, your heart cracked a little bit for him. A stray tear escaped, rolling down his cheeks.

Immediately, you use the ends of your sleeves to dab away at his tears. Nodding, you encouraged him to go on.

“And… And I really wanted to visit Japan. Shota was gonna bring us to all these places, we were gonna have dinner with his family, and I was really looking forward to being back in America. I really wanted to walk around LA again, and see the huge trees, and…” Jiung paused again, trying to compose himself. “And I’m just really sad I can’t see the fans. I feel so bad, like I let them down, and I know that for some of them this is a once-in-a-lifetime thing to see us and I let them down and - ”

You didn’t allow him to continue - you simply stood up from your seat and sat next to him on the bed, enveloping him in a hug. “And that’s enough, I’m not gonna let you continue talking down to yourself like that.” You said in a hushed voice. You weren’t too sure why you were whispering, but it felt like the right thing to do.

Jiung shut up promptly, closing his wet eyes, and burying his face in your sweater. He breathed in your scent, a mixture of your fabric softener and jasmine, and felt at ease. He was transported back to simpler times - growing up in a high-rise apartment in the outskirts of Seoul, catching cicadas by the stream next to your house, and running around the parks until the sun went down.

You stayed like this for awhile, and it was like time stopped for you. You could barely breathe from how close you were to Jiung, someone you had admired for a long time now - initially from up close, close enough to count the eyelashes on his pretty face. And now from afar, through a screen. Initially, you wrapped him in a hug to stop him from talking about how he let his fans down, but now, you were just enjoying his warmth. Jiung hugged you back tighter, and you could feel the ends of his orange hair tickling your neck.

It was Jiung who broke the silence. “You feel the same - smell the same, even.” He mumbled, lips too close to your skin for you to maintain a healthy heartbeat.

“Yeah, well…” You hated yourself for pulling away, but you had to do it to check up on him; make sure he was okay.  “Moving out to the big city made me crave familiarity. So I had to ask Mum to send me a picture of the softener she used for our clothes when we were growing up.”

Jiung smiled at that. “That’s nice.”  He liked the idea of you calling your mum about something as simple as laundry. Often, he felt like his calls back home were the opposite of mundane - his mother would ask him where he was flying to that weekend; he would reply with the destination and tell her that he was working on a few new songs. She would tell him to eat well and not sleep too late; he would reply in the affirmative, hiding the fact that most of the time they were recording in the wee hours of the morning. It seemed like you were worlds apart. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel more than grateful to have a friend like you in his life to keep him grounded. Someone from his previous life, as a child, before he was P1Harmony’s Jiung - when he was just himself, just plain old Choi Jiung. A boy from Anyang. A boy with big dreams. Just a regular boy.

“Also, I’m sure your fans understand. And they’d want you to rest! Trust me,” You paused, “Everyone on SNS has been commenting to wish you a speedy recovery but also saying that this is a great opportunity for you to get some well-deserved rest. You guys never seem to rest these days. A comeback and a tour? You must’ve been so busy..”

Jiung laughed, amused. “You read the fan comments?”

“What? Of course! Why are you surprised?”

“Wow…” Jiung replied. “You know, we kinda lost contact when we were in high school but when you reached out again a few years ago I really did think it was because you suddenly missed me. Now I know why…”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you reach out because you were a fan? I always believed your story - I thought it really was because you bumped into my mum back in Anyang and she passed you my new number.”

“I mean…” You fumbled. Now it was your turn to be embarrassed. “That happened! I swear!”

“But…?”

“No buts! That is definitely what happened.”

“Right… So who’s your P1Harmony bias? Tell me.” Jiung teased, lips curling into a cheeky grin. He passed you the beer, urging you to drink. “Drink up and tell me. Don’t worry, I can set you up with them. Just tell me.”

You took a huge gulp as you whacked him on the arm.

“Hey! That hurt!”

“You deserved it.” You mumbled.

“So, who is it?” Jiung still wouldn’t let it go. 

“You don’t need to know.” The tips of your ears were warming up now. You distracted yourself by munching on some wings, hoping he would just drop the topic already.

“C’mon, I deserve to know, at least.”

Just then, your phone, which was on top of the table, lit up with a Kakao notification. Your eyes widened in alarm, suddenly remembering that you had just recently changed your wallpaper to a (very cute) photo of Jiung from their most recent music video. With your clean hand, you reached over to grab it before Jiung could see it.

But alas, you were too slow. “Oh…” Jiung mused, getting all cocky. “I get it now.”

“What do you get? There’s nothing to get.” You forced out a laugh, flipping your phone the other way and burying it under your seat.

“Y/N…” Jiung drawled out the syllabus of your name in a teasing yet slightly dangerous way, as if he had an evil master plan. “Tell me something, and be honest.”

“Nope, I refuse.” You said, shaking your head vigorously.

“Do you like me?”

You continued shaking your head no and chewing in silence.

“Be honest, I’m not gonna judge you. Am I your bias?”

“Shut up, I refuse to answer.”

“Ah, so I am right.”

“That’s not what I said!”

“You didn’t have to say it, Y/N. I can tell… Just admit it. You like me.”

“No! This is so embarrassing…”

//

{ epilogue }

The nurses filling out their charts at the station giggled and gossiped over their dinners. 

“So, what do you think is gonna happen?”

“Gosh, watching them is so frustrating. Like, just confess already!”

“I know right! I almost want to do something about it. Like slip them a note or push them into each other or something.”

“Ah, the beauty of young love…”

[helladirections]

hey angel

could please make a list of the best smuts you know? pleaseeeeeee

girl i gotchu!!!

Brother’s Best Friend by @helladirections (that's me) Inspired by 'choke her with a sea view', soft dom Harry is YN’s brother’s best friend, and YN isn’t a little kid anymore. Ft. dom/sub, rough sex, and soft words.

I Dig Your Cinema by @helladirections (me again, it's my list so I can do what I want) mostly f receiving oral YN as Harry’s PA on set of DWD around shooting the eating out on the table scene 

other people.......

Us Again second part to You Again by @freedomfireflies rough This part is literally just smut. and TBH you don't have to read the first part if you don't want to (but it's good too!)

Teach Me by @freedomfireflies series - lots of different kinks Harry needs a little practice in the art of Eating Pussy, and who better to ask for help than his best friend?

Something to Gawk at by @cherryjuiceblues some dom-ish harry's grown in some places and y/n is more than obsessed.

Eavesdropper by @lukesaprince honestly just hot af Where your neighbour Harry happens to hear you masturbating to his music and decides to do the neighbourly thing and lend a helping hand… or something else.

Mechanicrry by @jawllines one of my favorite soft doms of all time Harry is a grumpy mechanic and Y/N just can’t stop talking

The Rich Series by @lukesaprince age gap, daddy, anal, etc Neighbour/Older!Harry. A Summer dogsitting job for Mr. Styles is a dream come true for any broke uni student. He's rich, gorgeous and finally fucks you after your weekly dinner together. A series that follows two neighbours who end up in a sexual relationship.

golfrry pt. by @atharryshouse short but good

Need Your Hand by @harrycore

honestly the list could on but I don't want to clog up your dash

[chaotic-plumbob]

Since he prepared a family meal anyway, Milo decides to do the good neighbourly thing and packs some leftovers for Kai and Frankie. He even puts them in a nice gift box and all. Hopefully this will be the beginning of a nice friendship.

[writersblockedx]

Just Being Neighbourly

Pairing - Pre-death!Tate Langdon x Fem!Reader Summary - The two have been neighbours for some years now, yet Tate can't help but make his move. Warnings - None, I don't think, just a lot of fluff! Words - 1.6K

A/n - It’s October which means I’ve been re-watching AHS and couldn’t help but write a tate fic after finishing murder house!

Masterlist 

It was always a mystery living in the house across from the Langdons. They were strange people, Y/n's mother would say coming home late from work after getting reeled into conversation with Constance. Or sometimes Y/n would catch the young boy, whom she knew to be Tate from school, leaving the house in the early hours of the morning.

It was them hours when she would be intruded by the thoughts to follow after to him, to yell his name. They were barely even acquaintances, they would be classed as strangers if it were the fact they knew the other's name. But, for whatever reason, Y/n couldn't help the feeling to make sure he was okay in them midnight hours. Yet, every time them thoughts surface, she'd bypass them, tell herself it was none of her business and return to trying to sleep herself.

It had been one random weekend when things began to change. She'd been standing at the bus stop at the end of the road for a bus that was already five minutes late. Her legs chilly with the autumn breeze that passed, yet she had no choice but to bare it in anticipation for the vehicle which was due. She'd been so focused on trying to spot the bus, she had never even clocked that Tate was wandering up to her.

His hands in his pockets, surely to keep his own palms warm, and a slick smile smothering his expression. "Hey," His soft tone reached her ears, almost making her jump - something of which she was successful in concealing as she turned to face Tate.

She too flashed a grin. Y/n tried hard to make sure it wasn't too much, but at the same time, that it wasn't too little. They were neighbours after all - they had to be neighbourly. But, Y/n also didn't want him getting any other ideas. Well, that part she wasn't quite sure of yet. "Hi, Tate, you alright?" She asked him.

"You don't have to make small talk." He chuckled and they both felt a wave of relief from his words. "We're not our mothers. You know, pretending to make small talk as if we don't hate each."

Her eyes narrowed and she swayed on her feet in curiosity. "How do you know my mother doesn't like yours?" She queried with a cheeky glint in her pupils that they both seemed to share.

"Because I've met my mother. I happen to live with her." He replied.

"Sounds torturous." Y/n didn't know the half of it. "Are you saying we secretly hate each other?" She then asked with the quirk of a brow.

He shrugged and took a moment to reply as if debating if he should even speak at all. "Do you? Hate me?"

Her head shook the moment the words slipped passed his lips, "No, of course not. What gave you that idea?"

Again, he was hesitant. Y/n couldn't know for sure, but this seemed like a concern which had been haunting him for awhile now. "You don't speak to me at school. Like when we pass in the hallways, or in class." He shrugged as if his tone wasn't dripping in heavy emotion he seemed to have been holding onto.

"Niether do you, Tate." She said with a slither of a smile. Had she known her apathy towards him was causing such concern, she would have done something about it.

"So you don't...hate me?"

She grinned back at him like she did the first time. "Course not." She told him, looking back at the road to spot the bus which was soon approaching.

Neither of them said anything as it gained closer until it stopped. Y/n got on first, swirling back to face Tate when he made no move to get onto the bus. "You not getting on?" She questioned with knitted brows.

A slick smirk was plastered against his lips, "I'm not getting a bus." He winked, the doors shut and the bus started moving again. There was one question that soon rung around Y/n's mind: if he wasn't getting on the bus, what had he been doing standing at the bus stop?

There was one thing that came out of that unexpected conversation: Y/n started noticing Tate at school. In the beginning, she'd started to smile at him in the hallways, he'd always smile back. Then it was a 'good morning' as they passed, or whispered in class. Before Y/n even realised it, she was looking for him in the crowds. She wished she'd bump into him, that they'd meet eyes and have an excuse to talk again.

There came a day where she just couldn't bare it anymore. Weeks had passed and while they were friendly, she craved for more. She was seated in the library, surrounded by a few friends. Y/n had a good amount of work to do - as her teachers kept reminder her - but her eyes wouldn't dare peel from the curly-haired boy sat two tables down from her.

Tate always sat alone. Sometimes it was because he simply wanted to do, other times it was because there wasn't a second option. At this time, he was completing some much over-due work, headphones over his ears which drowned out the chatter of the mindless teenagers around him. But it also drowned out Y/n. He was utterly unaware of her presence. Had he been, he probably would have made an effect to catch a glimpse of eye contact for the third time today. Alas, Y/n took matters into her own hands.

Without alerting her friends, she gathered herself from the table she was seated at and wandered over to Tate's. She didn't say anything till she sat in the chair across from him. Still with his music blasting, Tate had no idea of his new company. Well, not until she carefully snatched his Biology book from under him. Then his head snapped upwards, instantly flashing a smile as his gaze found Y/n.

"Ooo," She hummed as she took his text book, "Biology, must be a rough day."

He tucked his headphones off, letting them sit around his neck. "It's not that bad." He shrugged; certainly not his least favourite subject there was.

"Have to argue with you on that one." She quirked, sliding the book back towards him.

"Really? You struggling with an academic subject? Doesn't sound like you." He spoke as if he knew her ever so deeply.

She leaned in slightly, finding her chin fitting in the cup of her palm as she stared affectionately to the boy seated across from her. "And who told you that?" She questioned.

"Well, your mom told mine that you're an exceptional student." He chuckled with his words.

"That is true, except for biology." Y/n explained before a cheeky glint emerged in her eyes. "You know, if you'd be happy to, you could always help me out a little." She was testing the waters. She wasn't sure what had happened that day at the bus stop, but it had flickered some light in her which was still crackling and urging for more.

Tate laughed again, his doe-eyes meeting hers, "I can't believe you're asking me for help." He paused and her smile grew. "But, of course, I'll help you."

And so they arranged a time the next day to study over the subject. They met after school at her house. Despite being neighbours for a good few years, Tate had never in fact been at Y/n's house. But, as he was directed up stairs to her bedroom, he remembered thinking that it was exactly as he had expected it to look. Especially, when it came to her room.

"Do you have your text books?" Questioned Tate as they sat at either end of the bed, soon becoming surrounded by papers.

Y/n played in with knitted brows as she listen intently to the blond boy explain the carbon cycle. A topic which was easily a boring one, yet Y/n was more enticed than ever. "Do you get it?" Tate asked, seemingly snapping her out of her awe.

She nodded, "Pretty much yeah." Tate didn't reply. Instead, he plastered on an adoring smile as their eyes intertwined with one another. "What?" Y/n finally giggled when the silence went on for too long.

"You just-" He looked away for a moment. "You stare a lot." He looked back. Their smiles never faded.

The girl shrugged, "I like how you explain things." There was a glint glistening in her pupil that left Tate questioning what was about to follow.

She was already leaning in when Tate responded, "That's a good thing, I guess." He never shuddered as she got closer. Yet, he could never excuse the shivers which electrocuted his spine as their lips finally touched.

They pulled from one another, their foreheads lingering, yet not daring to touch. Tate still had his eyelids closed when Y/n opened hers. He was savouring the moment. Even if he knew the feelings were certainly reciprocated. Once they finally flickered open, Y/n admitted, "I actually have an A in Bio."

They both giggled. They both knew this wasn't the last. That, despite her A in Bio, there would be more study dates, more kisses and they would become more than just neighbours.

-

Everything - @alexxavicry @Emily-roberts @starrryskiees @m4nulup1n​  Want to get notified next time I post? Click here to get added to a taglist!

[etherealily]

​🇹​​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇱​​🇮​​🇳​​🇪​ // 𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘹𝘦𝘪 𝘷𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘬𝘺

Alexei Vronsky + fem!reader

Warnings : Cuss words.

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

'Cross that line for me, sweetheart?'

Desc. : You are not a temptress, but he is tempted.

══════════════════ ⋆🍷⋆ ══════════════════

It was curious, to say the least, how land was divided. The conch next to you was half your property and half the Vronsky estate's property. It had remained that way for ages.

The waves lapped up the sand, like a heart reaching desperately for its other half as you sat watching the entire ordeal.

The Line - one drawn up every morning and marked by tiny flags as placeholders - had always pissed you off. Intrigued you. What would happen if you were to... just a finger? The hem of your dress. Would you immediately be shot at by concealed snipers? Perhaps you'd have to be tried in court.

You had never really noticed much about this Vronsky character before. Another handsome, manipulative bastard. Nothing much.

In turn, he'd also never noticed you. A face. One of many. Beautiful, of course, he was not blind, but never seen as worthy of his efforts. You were not rebellious. You were not adorably innocent. He could not entice you. He could not corrupt you.

In theory, your paths were never to cross. Different lives, same circles.

The key word : theory.

Because there are moments in life when you know that nothing will ever be the same again, when you know that your proverbial pathway is forever skewed and rerouted. These may appear to you embossed in calamities such as loss and grief, or these may be whispered in your ear by silent smiles, lovestruck looks across a ballroom, or the simple offer of champagne.

Or, in the case of you and Alexei Vronsky, all of the above.

And this was one of those torturous, life-altering moments.

"-And that's when I said, it was just a bloody goat !"

Booming, drunken laughter ensued from your left - the other side of the Line. Fuck. Keep drawing, shut up, keep drawing, shut up.

Your pencil made unintelligible sounds as it scratched out a somewhat passable depiction of the moonlit waves. The screams and guffaws grew louder, but the issue was that if you moved, he'd assume you did it because you were on his side. You were not, but it would look highly suspicious if you fled.

No. They'd quietened down. Meaning either they left - highly unlikely - or, they'd noticed you.

"Oi!"

Don't respond, don't respond.

"You! Pretty girl!"

Drunk men are terrifying. How could such kind words be said in a way that made your skin crawl?

"Mate, maybe she's a mute. Or deaf. Or both."

"I know for a fact she's not. She's got quite a mouth on her, as I can remember from last year- HEY! LADY WITH THE SKETCHBOOK!"

And that was Alexei Vronsky. His story with the goat had ended, apparently. Ugh.

You turned. "Uh, hello."

"ARE YOU A MUTE?" his companion yelled.

"Are you daft? She just answered! How could she be mute?"

Drunk men are also idiotic.

"WHY DON'T YOU COME ON OVER HERE, WE'LL GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO DRAW?"

Bellowing laughter followed.

For fuck's sake.

"I'm alright, THANKS!"

"OI, C'MON! WE DON'T BITE!"

From what you'd heard, he does.

"IS IT 'CAUSE OF THAT LINE?"

"Good night, Count Vronsky.", you called back, as you gathered up your things and stood, dusting the sand off your dress.

"HOLD ON! WAIT!"

"Let'r go, mate, c'mon, we've got a party to get back to."

"I WAS JUST BEING NEIGHBOURLY, YOU BITCH!"

FUCKING HELL.

"What did you just call me?!", you yelled, turning. He looked back at you in a swaying, inebriated haze, trying to focus those glaciers he called eyes on yours in the darkness.

"A witch. You've cast a spell on me, bewitched me, so to speak. You're magic."

Ugh. "Whatever."

"Just come over here, or I'll have to come there, and you wouldn't like that.", he slurred, his friends chortling and egging him on.

Buggering Christ.

"You can't. See?", you replied defiantly, pointing deliberately at the faint white outline of the line they renewed every morning with chalk powder. "That would be trespassing."

"I'm Alexei Vronsky."

What was that supposed to mean?

"So? It's still trespassing. My family's had it in for you for a long time - we'll take you to court."

"Then you come here.", he shrugged, taking an unstable stumble closer. "Cross that line for me, sweetheart? Yeah?"

"You're a creep. And you're drunk."

"You're a beauty. And you're technically trespassing, so I need to punish you."

"HOW am I-"

"Your pencil." Fuck. How is it he's sober enough to notice that, but not sober enough to know that his buddy said 'the coat storage' not 'the goat story'?

"It blew in the wind."

"Yes. To my estate."

"You can keep it."

"Are you sure? Isn't this your, uh, fabulous pencil from Paris you were talking of?"

"No." Yes.

"No?", he frowned, picking it up. NO! Not in his grimy, disgustingly delicate fingers. "Seems pretty French to me."

"Are you actually inebriated or do you simply enjoy pretending to be so that you can get away with things?"

He stopped swaying, pointing the pencil in your direction as he placed the other hand behind his back. "You're sharp."

"So you're sober?"

Drunk Vronsky could have been molded. Sober Vronsky was a cunt.

"More or less. My friends feel left out because they are unable to hold their liquor as well as I can, so I act for them.", he explained, with a small look behind him, at his comrades trying to jump over the waves as they came.

"You should be in theatre, then."

"Adding performer to my resume is just a smidge too over-accomplished.", he retorted, an amused glint in his eye.

Ugh.

"So you're going to hold on to my pencil, then, I'm guessing."

"What? No, I know how much this means to you."

Trap. You'd bet your entire estate it was a trap.

"I will give it back.", he continued as he paced, his hand still placed behind his back as though he were planning war strategies. "On one condition."

See? Trap.

"Dinner. With me. Tomorrow."

Did he think this was a smart way to secure an evening with a woman?

"I won't be here tomorrow." Bold-faced lie, and he could tell.

"Then tonight. Right now." You couldn't think of anything you were doing.

"And I'll get my pencil back."

"Yes."

"That can't be it. There's a catch."

"You are... remarkable. Yes. There is.", he whispered, softly, as though impressed that you caught on. "Champagne. I wish to see you drunk. Drunk, in denial and... ruined."

Lot of darkness for someone who'd just been talking about a goat.

"In denial?"

"Nothing. Just... join me for dinner and drink a little, and I promise you shall have your pencil back."

"I do not drink."

"Then I do not return fancy French pencils."

"I can always purchase another."

"You do not have sentimentality, then?"

"No." Yes.

"I see. Then you may be on your way."

"I don't have to go anywhere. I have every right to be here! This is still my side of The Line."

"Suit yourself, darling."

The silence that followed was torturous and unbearable. "I do not like steak."

"Then you shall have no steak."

══════════════════ ⋆🍷⋆ ══════════════════

His eyes focused on you from across the table, his spoon paused midway above his plate. Eyes like the ocean in a storm. Terrifying but alluring.

"Enjoying your not-steak?"

You hid a smile. "Yes, I am."

He nodded, bringing his spoon up to his lips as he watched you do the same.

"You've left your friends out there?"

"They know not to cross The Line. They will be alright."

"Why is it you wanted to have dinner with me? To trap me into trespassing?"

"I've wanted to speak with you since I first saw you." Lie.

"And I you." Lie.

"What was it you wished to say?"

"Simply a greeting. You?"

"The same."

He set down his spoon, scrunching up his napkin as he stood up and walked the short distance across the table to you, resting his hands on the back of your chair. "You promised you'd drink."

"I did?"

"You did.", he whispers, accepting the newly-uncorked bottle the servant handed him, and pouring it into the glass next to your plate, smoothly. "And you're a good girl who keeps promises, yes?"

You'd heard he loved using such degrading language, but this was the first time you'd seen it firsthand.

"What gave you that idea?"

"I just figured you were of proper breeding and were raised right."

Good answer.

"Well, the words 'I promise' never left my mouth."

"Well-bred women do not look for loopholes. And they most certainly do not argue."

Lord knows where he'd worked up the audacity to brush some hair off your shoulder, but perhaps he was born with it imbibed in his blood.

He narrowed his eyes at your unchanging expression. "Drink."

"I am not done with my food."

He breathes out loudly, taking your plate and thrusting it into the hands of the nearest servant. "Yes, you are."

"I still have dessert."

"No, you don't. Drink."

"This is not champagne. You said champagne."

"And you said you'd drink. We both have uttered falsities. Drink."

"I fear you may be trying to-"

"Poison you? I am not. I would not like to see you die."

Was that supposed to be some form of assurance? Romantic? Caring? That did not have the intended effect.

"Drink, lovely."

It irked you how invested he was to see you drunk.

You wrapped your fingers around the glass, bringing it to your lips. Tilting it upwards, you let the liquor cascade down your throat, and echoes of your sputtering filled the room - it burned.

He laughed heartily, shaking his head as he stroked your shoulder from behind you. "Do you know what that was?"

"No. But I do know I will not take another sip."

"It was vodka, my dear, and in a few moments, you will want more. Trust me."

"I'm not taking another sip of that ghastly liquid!"

"Not even for me? Not even if I begged?"

"You think your begging has any effect on me?"

"Doesn't it? I'm known to be quite persuasive, and- besides, aren't you supposed to be the empathetic one in the family?"

"And where did you hear that?"

"Just about everywhere, really.", he huffed, resting his elbow on the table as he knelt down by your side. "'Y/N is the nicest one. She cares the most. Empathetic.' Surely you are not telling me those are lies?"

"Not lies, but exaggerations, perhaps."

"I am quite literally on my knees, Y/N, and you should realize how rare that is. Drink more or I will have to force you."

You frowned at him.

"I will do it. Force you. Don't think that because I have let you in my house so courteously that I will continue to be a gentleman with you."

"How could you be? You're nothing but a cad.", you scoffed, as you took another stingingly painful gulp.

He watched the glass, your tongue, your throat, almost mesmerized as he replied. "A cad?", he questioned softly, amused but still fascinated by your every movement.

"A cad.", you nodded, trying not to show how much you were gasping for breath. It hurt, satisfyingly.

"That's a first. No one has ever said 'oh, Alexei Vronsky, that cad'.", he murmured against his palm as he observed you meticulously.

"Then they have met a different person."

"You say this out of personal experience, do you?"

"I've met him. The Alexei Vronsky. He only thinks of one thing."

A lilt of his lips. "And that is?"

"Himself."

He concealed a grin.

"Or perhaps...", he mused, fingertips on the back of your neck as though he were playing your skin as one would a piano. "He is one who shows different versions of himself to different people."

"So he is deceitful."

"I'd say careful."

"Would you, now?"

"I think we put up far too many false pretences anyway. No point in fighting it - it is necessary, to be part of society."

"And what false pretences am I putting up, in your expert opinion?"

He smiled, one too pure to match the description you had so harshly delivered a moment before, but you knew more than most that it was a ruse. "Drink more."

"You're an incredibly demanding man, aren't you? Dine with me. Drink more. Not a single please, nor thank you.", you retorted, as though that could take away from the fact that you obeyed.

"When you are incredibly in demand, you learn to be incredibly demanding."

If ever a smoother talker existed, you'd wager he'd simply be Alexei Vronsky in disguise.

"So tell me, then. Are you a gentleman, a cad, or an opportunist, Count Vronsky?"

You had to steer the conversation back to him, because whatever this vilely beguiling liquor was, it was shooting through your veins at a rate too fast to risk talking about yourself, lest any family secrets spilled out.

"I am whatever you want me to be. And you? Are the rumours true? Are you a virgin, a temptress, or a genius?"

"I am whatever I want to be. For tonight."

"Come morning?", he murmured against your neck as he slipped a finger under a loose strand of hair, and twirled it with such dedication you would think that were his only purpose in life.

"A memory."

"Well, we can't have that.", he pouted, as he stood up, gently taking the glass away from you and finishing the last of it. "What does it take for a memory to stay in the present?"

"Vronsky-"

"A dance, perhaps, as they say you enjoy?"

If you weren't unsure of the functionality of your motor skills in your drunken haze, you'd have punched him right then and there.

"The rumours aren't true, you know?"

"What rumours?", he asked, feigning obliviousness.

He'd just spoken of them, but you were quite sure if you reminded him, he'd attribute it to the vodka. Tell you you were 'surely imagining things, dear one'.

"The ones that led you to come and have a go at me."

"Those? Oh, I didn't believe them for a second.", he grinned, his eyes examining the filthiest, most remote parts of your soul - ones that even you had never been privy to.

A moment washed over the both of you, tauntingly. You looked for any secrets in his eyes, and he looked for any in yours, albeit, more calmly than you.

"Come.", he mumbled, finally, offering his hand for you to get up out of his disgustingly well-crafted chair. "Let's get you back on your side of The Line."

══════════════════ ⋆🍷⋆ ══════════════════

"There. Oh, and here. I am of proper manners.", he added after you'd leapt over The Line, handing your pencil back over to you.

It felt oddly anticlimactic after the events of the evening.

His icy blue eyes - striking, so striking that they pierced you - fell onto your lips for just a moment before landing on the pencil in your hand. "You don't want it back."

"What? Of course I do."

He had you. He was onto you.

"Let me rephrase. You don't need it back."

"Sentimentality. Of course I do."

"You really don't want it to stay in my possession, instead?"

"No."

"Liar.", he smirked, his lips curving deliciously, and you just about lost it. "You know I'll take very good care of it, no? Like I took care of you, tonight. No complaints, yes?"

"Besides the aggressive persuasion to drink a fiery liquid that most probably burnt my throat off, no."

"You exaggerate. Tell me tonight was just another of your dull nights. Tell me I haven't been a source of reprieve from your tedious, mundane days of fakeness and gossip."

You scoffed, refusing to dignify that with a reply, although you already knew that any response- or lack thereof - would be all too telling.

"You cannot, can you?"

There was nothing you hated more than when men were right.

Especially men who were as captivating as Vronsky. It was unnecessary and dangerous.

He beamed, clearly so fucking proud of himself, as he looked out at the waves. "It is a lovely dress you are wearing."

No, it wasn't. It was the most commonplace of dresses one could wear. But he'd say it anyway. Because that was his play.

"Thank you."

"It is disgusting, though."

"In what way? A disgusting display of my wealth, or disgustingly lovely?"

He knelt down next to you from the other side, on the sand. "It is disgusting that such beauty and purity like yours can exist and people continue to slander its name."

Had you been a lesser woman, you'd have fallen for it.

It seemed, however, that he knew you wouldn't. It was confusing, to say the least, whether he was being genuine or being genuinely fake.

"It is how I live."

If you'd read him right, he should say something along the lines of...

"It shouldn't be."

There.

"However... the dress in itself is not disgusting?"

"No, it is spectacular- although, I must say, the woman wearing it is far more ravishing."

Games get boring when they are predictable.

"So. What is it you normally do after parties, since you cannot get drunk? Unless blackmailing women to dine with you and drink your vodka is your usual pastime."

He snickered, although a slight maliciousness infiltrated his gaze for a moment. "It isn't so much a pastime as... an unfortunately common occurence. Perhaps that's why you've got an opinion of me as a - how'd you put it?"

"A cad."

"Ah, yes, a cad. I wonder if your opinion has changed."

That was not hope in his eyes, no. That was a challenge. 'Go ahead, Y/N, say no. If you dare.', his look said.

"I wonder that, too. Perhaps it will if you keep your promise."

"Promise?", he repeated, raising a brow. He knew. He knew all too well what you were saying.

"False pretences.", you reminded, watching him as he watched the waves distort the light of the moon. "You said you would tell me what false pretences you think I put up."

He was far too close. The incredibly fragile, entirely imaginary Line wouldn't be able to stop him from reaching over and touching your shoulder once more.

"I think... do you want to know what I think?"

"I might."

"I think that you're lying when you brush off the rumours."

"You think I am a slut? A temptress?" Now, suddenly, the monotonous nature of everyday seemed far more interesting than the thousandth iteration of the same conversation.

"No, I think you brushing them off is the lie. They affect you far too much." Alright. That was... progress.

"Do they, now?"

"Very much. And there is one more, as well, although I doubt you will like to hear it. You crave to prove them right."

Congratulations, Alexei Vronsky, you've caught my attention.

"That is an extremely, extremely bold suggestion."

"Yet you are not denying it."

"I do not wish to have my virtue questioned, Vronsky, and us having dinner does not change that."

"But it pokes at it, does it not? A slight scratch, an itch, asking if that is what you really want. It blurred the lines, did it not?"

Shut up, shut up, shut up.

"You're an incredibly delusional man, Count Vronsky."

"A delusional cad."

"Precisely."

You didn't miss the amusement in his tone, the laughter, the way he knew how perfectly right he was.

"Well, this delusional cad did not lie, earlier. You truly have bewitched me, my dear, and I do not think I shall ever turn you down."

He stood up, dusting the sand off his gloves and pants. You stood up too, not out of respect, but out of the desire to relish his face once more.

"Turn me down?"

"When you inevitably ask for me when your marriage is dry, lifeless and torturous."

Good lord. How long had he been- how far ahead was he thinking?

"I will be right here. On this side."

"Why are you so adamant that my marriage will be-"

"Because I'm the one you need. You've broken quite literally every rule tonight. Crossed the line, fraternized with the enemy, drank unfamiliar alcohol that could so easily have been poisoned or used against you."

"How does that make you the one I-"

"I'm taking you out of your comfort zone. Freeing you. What more would one want from a lover?"

So casual with that word. Lover. As though that was all you two had been, since the beginning.

"Have I mentioned that you're-"

"Delusional? Yes, you have. But you have also yet to mean it."

Who the hell allowed this man to be so confident?

His thumb rubbed against your cheek in pure tenderness that you are well-prepared for - you've learnt over the years he's unpredictable, and since his mercurial nature was the only predictable thing about him, it was easy for you to guess his next move.

Or at least, figure out that it would be the exact opposite of the tone of his words.

"I can help you, you see?", he said, words so faint they were almost whisked away in the sea breeze. "Honest."

"Was that the point of tonight?"

"No, the point of tonight was to get you so utterly inebriated that you would tell me your family's secrets, and hence, your own."

That was the only thing that had come out of his mouth all night that you could guarantee was the truth.

"And since that did not happen, you are doing this?"

"No, I couldn't let that happen. Unwrapping you, figuring you out, it is far too intriguing a task to complete with a glass of vodka and enticing words. I want to spend years, decades, the rest of my life, performing this task, revealing you slowly and addictively, until I have lost myself or driven myself crazy trying to reach the core of your soul."

The silence kissed you two over and over until you couldn't take it anymore. "You are terrifyingly good at this."

He almost looked like he was about to say 'at what', but it seemed his mood had turned too serious to coax a half-hearted insult out of you.

"And you are terrifying. You are like the eye of a storm, intricately, almost... sinisterly drawing me closer."

"I'm not sure what you want me to-"

His lips devoured your words, and you could not help but think that this night had progressed far too rapidly to your liking. He was a stranger, a random man who you shared nothing but a flimsy little line with, but here you were, letting him kiss you, letting him ruin you, letting him convince you with his words that this was a good idea.

"Come on, darling.", he murmured against your lips, his eyes still half-lidded in a triumphant haze. "Cross the line. I promise, I'll take care of you."

You surrendered, and all you could do was hope that his beauty was simply angelic in nature, and was not designed for the sole purpose of ruining you and every iota of self-respect you had.

Hard to tell, but perhaps he had meant it that way.

[caw-oticdork]

Since my previous podcast recommendation list was pretty popular, I've decided to make another, with another bunch of excellent podcasts:

13 Minutes or Less - Short podcast with very short episodes, about a pizza chef who doesn't like dealing to people but has to do some deliveries due to short staffing. Very much not her thing, but she does her best. As it turns out, her clients are quite a bit stranger and spookier than expected...

Additional Postage Required - Sci-Fi adventure about a nonbinary courier who gains the ability (or curse...) to get visions about the contents, past, and sender of packages they touch. They get roped into a rebellion. There's hoverboard racing. It's awesome.

Among the Stars and Bones - A team of xenoarcheologists search a distant world for traces of a long-vanished aliens. It's been a while since I watched this one, so I don't remember it very well, but I know that I enjoyed it. Very good sci-fi horror.

Dark Ages - Fantasy workplace comedy about a supernatural museum. Quite a lot of fun.

Dragon Shanty - Fantasy story about two bards traveling the high seas. There's dragons aplenty. Very queer. Excellent songs.

Falling Forward - Hacker story loosely based on the myth of Icarus and the Labyrinth, about getting back at a terrible corporation. Kinda experimental, this one has the shortest episodes I've ever seen.

Hotel Daydream - Podcast about the goings-on at a supernatural hotel. Very inventive, with really interesting characters.

Jar of Rebuke - Mystery about a researcher at an ominous cryptozoological organization out in the rural US. He's got no memories of his past and keeps dying and coming back. A story about cryptids, identity, queerness, neurodivergence, and community.

Light Hearts - Slice of Life podcast about turning an old, haunted building into a cafe and queer community center. The ghosts lead to some very fun shenanigans.

Lost Terminal - Mentioned in the other list but not expanded on. This is a hopepunk story set on an Earth devestated by climate change. Told from the POV of an adorable AI who watches this Earth from a space station, observing how humanity re-builds itself and finds a brighter future.

Mayfair Watchers Society - You know Trevor Henderson? The guy who drew Sirenhead, Long Horse, and other such creepypasta creatures in his found footage style? Yeah, this is a horror anthology based on his works, directed by him. Set in the rural town of Mayfair, where strange creatures are a lot more common than elsewhere... Each episode has a slightly different framing device, with some being found footage audio, others meeting recordings, phone calls, etc.

Monstrous Agonies - An advice podcast for the british creature community. Many of the advice letters are sent in by listeners - there's two by myself, one from an ant that can hear and send radio and one from a fey who is looking for curse advice. Some letters are metaphors for queerness, clashing cultures, ableism, and minority communities, others just some urban fantasy fun. Has a little bit of plot, but most episodes have an anthology style. Fast approaching the finale!

Mx Bad Luck - Slice of Life about someone who is cursed with bad luck. Sometimes sad, sometimes funny. Can recommend.

Neighbourly - Neighbourly follows the residents of Little Street, house by house. What they do, how they interact with each other, and what skeletons are hiding in their closet. Starts out as a spooky urban fantasy thing that's almost an anthology, but weaves itself into quite a mysterious plot over time...

SINKHOLE - Short-form audio podcast presented as a collection of audio posts from a member of a community of data restoration hobbyists in a sometimes-unfamiliar future. Mystery about disability, internet communities, and how things change with time.

Second Star to the Left - Scout-explorer Gwen Hartley has five years to explore and prepare her planet for settlement. With no aid but her robots and the anxious voice of her long-distance scout-minder Bell Summers in her ear, she's hoping she's ready for anything.

Someone Dies In This Elevator - Anthology where every episode, someone dies in an elevator. You wouldn't believe how creative they get with that simple concept!

Tales from the Low City - By the maker of Mistholme Museum, this podcast explores the everyday lifes of the last people on an alien world, after the surface had become uninhabitable and everyone had fled down into the last city, the subterranean Low City. This one made me cry a lot!

Tartarus - In a secret facility deep beneath Antarctica, an anxious astrobiologist, a terse station manager, and an AI keep humanity safe from the monsters they imprison.

The Attic Monologues - Queer urban fantasy story about a university student who decides to record themself practicing monologues using a collection they found in their attic. Don't forget to listen to the post-credit scenes!

The Bridge - Surreal alternate universe horror story about the keepers of a bridge over the Atlantic. Gets pretty spooky.

The Green Horizon - Sci-Fi comedy about a na'er-do-well Irish space captain and his rag-tag crew traversing a war-torn galaxy in search of fame and fortune. Very fun podcast.

The Lavender Tavern - Anthology podcast with original gay fairytales. Most are quite memorable!

The Vesta Clinic - Sci-Fi story about a clinic that helps various interesting alien lifeforms with their medical issues. Excellent worldbuilding and characters!

Tides - The story of Dr. Winifred Eurus, a xenobiologist trapped on an unfamiliar planet with hostile tidal forces and a fascinating ecosystem. She must use her wits, sarcasm, and intellectual curiosity to survive long enough to be rescued. But there might be more to life on this planet than she expected...

Hope this list is as helpful as the last!

@boombox-fuckboy @marvelousmawn @sapphireclaw @ashes-in-a-jar @frogmomentsfrombeyondtime @time-is-restored @emmy-noethers-rings

You folk seemed the most interested in the other list, so I'm being bold and @ing you all.

[autisticlancemcclain]

The boy is young.

Marcela is concerned.

“What you are is nosy,” Miguel says.

“Blah, blah,” Marcela responds like the elegant lady she was raised to be, peeking through the blinds to watch as the boy struggles with several bags full of groceries. She frowns. “Look at him, Guelos. He’s still so young that he takes one trip with ten bags. He’s — a child, practically. A baby. With a mortgage. Who authorized this?”

Her husband sighs, pushing his chair out to come stand next to her. She opens the blinds a couple millimetres wider to help him see, leaning into the hand he places on her back.

“We were young too, you know. No older than him the year you were pregnant with Luis.”

Marcela frowns at him. “Yes, but we were young together. We both had savings, and jobs. I’d been practically raising my siblings for years, at that point. You’d been working since you were twelve. Times were — different, Miguel.”

She turns back to the window. The boy, who just moved in a few days ago, is standing on the small veranda, staring at the door. He looks down at his hand, laden with bags, and then back at the door. Marcela has to bite her lip to keep from smiling, despite her worry.

Miguel slides his hand across her shoulders, pulling her close and pressing a lingering kiss to her head. She closes her eyes, leaning into it, curling her fist at his sternum.

“Times have changed,” he agrees softly, words muffled against her skin. “We’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Okay,” she breathes. She watches over her husband’s shoulder as the boy finally gives up, dropping the groceries to the ground and digging around his pockets for his keys. It was funny before, but he looks so — defeated. Sad. Like this was the frustrating cherry on top of an already difficult day.

Or maybe she’s reading into things. She watches until he finally gets inside, door closing forcefully behind him, and she knows in her heart that she will not be able to leave it be.

———

Marcela is nosy.

“Why are we here,” Lancito whines, trying and failing to pull away from her hand.

“Because we are being neighbourly,” Marcela responds primly. She sees him stick out his tongue from the corner of his eye and decides to let him have it.

“You just want to see the inside of the new guy’s house,” he mutters.

Marcela’s jaw drops, because how the hell did that little brat know that, but before she can say anything the lock turns and she schools her face quickly back into her brightest smile, slightly strained. Lance, suddenly shy, hides behind her legs.

“…Hi,” the boy says. He looks — wary, slightly, but not too uncomfortable.

Marcela takes it for the win it is.

“Hello,” she says, softening considerably. The boy reminds her sharply of her brother. He had that same look to him, the eyes of someone older than he is; the posture of someone who seems to simply understand the world on a deeper level. His slight, awkward smile is identical, as well. She has to blink back tears, heart aching in missing him. “I’m Marcela. I live next door. These are for you.”

She holds out the plate of tostones, covered in aluminum foil. She’d originally had them in a container, but then worried that he’d feel pressured to wash and return it. She moved the tostones from the plate to the container so many times that Marco had walked over from where he was doing his homework, grabbed her hands, guided her gently to the side, and fixed the plate up himself. Miguel had laughed until he cried, because apparently he’s hankering for a divorce. (He’d laughed harder when she’d said that.)

“Oh.” The boy blinks, surprised. He stares at the plate for a moment, wary look on his face replaced with something like confusion.

“They’re tostones,” Lancito offers, peeking out from behind her. The boy startles, looking at Lance with wide eyes. Lance takes his awkwardness for ignorance. “They’re squashed plantains that are fried. Plantains are like bananas but better. Mamá makes them really good.”

Slowly, the boy reaches out and grabs the plate. He peels back the aluminum foil slightly, peeking inside.

“They look good,” he agrees, voice soft.

Lancito scoffs. He steps out from behind her, offense making him brave, but still hold on to the hem of her shirt. “Um, duh. They’re tostones.” He looks hungrily at the plate. “Mamá spent all morning making them and we didn’t get any. You must be her favourite neighbour or something.”

“Leandro-Agustín,” Marcela hisses, cheeks flushing. Lance only stares back at him with a puzzled expression, hand raised in a universal, what?

Luckily, though, the boy doesn’t seem to notice, or if he does he doesn’t say anything. He only slowly peels back the aluminum farther and offers the plate towards Lance. Lance looks back at Marcela, questioning. Marcela sighs.

Quickly, so she doesn’t change her mind, Lance snatches the closest one and shoves it in his mouth. The boy’s small smile gets a little bit bigger. He picks up his own tostone and takes a bite, inclining his head after swallowing.

“You were right,” he says. “They are delicious. Thank you, Mrs. Marcela.”

“Just Marcela is fine,” she assures.

The boy hesitates, face twitching. “I don’t think I can physically do that,” he says politely. “I can feel my grandmother rolling in her grave.”

Marcela snorts. “Alright, fair. I can live with the formalities, I suppose.”

The boy has the same tiny smile again. It brightens his eyes, makes his whole face look younger.

“I’m Takashi,” he says. He goes to offer his hand to shake, but there’s only —

The stump of his right arm twitches. The boy — Takashi — stiffens. Marcela watches, despondent, as his expression shutters, and he steps back.

“Thank you for coming,” he says robotically. “I appreciate the food.”

Marcela knows a dismissal when she hears one. She anguishes, once again, in the privacy of her own mind, just how young this kid is. Barely older than Luis.

“I’m right next door,” she says softly. Lance, ever observant, watches the two of them closely. “If you need anything, Takashi, let us know.”

The boy nods stiffly. He closes his door without another word. Marcela sighs.

“You’re gonna need another plate of nosy food,” Lance observes. “Or maybe you should invite him for dinner, and then he’ll invite you for dinner. That might work better.”

Marcela guides them down the steps and back to their house, kissing him gently on the head. “I think you’re right, mijo. You wanna help me make some cookies?”

They’ll get there.

[whorekneecentral]

The Smell Of The Holidays

Kostas Tsimikas x Fem!Reader

Warnings: friendly neighbourly chats, sweet moments with kos and his puppies, a heartfelt thank you, a little crush from kos's end, some tattoo exploring, sexual tension, it's giving sub!kostas for a minute there, thigh riding - it's more dry humping than thigh riding but I digress, oral (f!receiving), 0.2 seconds of fingering, finger sucking, penetrative sex (p in v), creampie.

Word Count: 3,565

Author's Note: I think this is my favourite and the longest fic so far. dedicated to the president of the kostas fan club, miss ivy @curiousthyme <333

merry smutmas series

--

You over baked for your niece’s holiday bake sale so you do the neighbourly thing and share with your neighbour, Kostas and his two puppies.

Your brother was a single father, he’s a busy guy that he works long hours and you help out with your niece in whatever way you can. Your brother can’t bake to save his life so when she comes home saying she needs treats for the bake sale, he calls you.

You were baking treats for her holiday bake sale; cupcakes, cookies, brownies, lemon bars - you name it, you baked it.

The bake sale was for the whole school, they were raising money for a charity who helped underfund kids, or something along the lines. With your niece's missing tooth, she didn't annunciate the best.

You have been baking all day and it wasn't until you turned around to set the final tray of cookies down that you realized you had run out of counter, dining room, coffee table and couch space. The cooled and frosted cookies, brownies and cupcakes were sitting on the couches in their trays, the ones that were needing to be frosted were on the tables and you had the hot pans on your counters.

Carefully, you shifted a few things around to set the hot pan down, leaving it to cool.

Your hands on your hips, you looked around; you've baked yourself into a conundrum.

It wasn't until you heard the barking next door that you realized what you could do with all of the extra treats that you were baked. You finished frosting the last of what needed to be frosted before packing them away neatly into their trays and loading them into your car.

You went back inside and picked up a small tray that you had set aside specifically for your next door neighbour, Kostas.

He was kind and sweet and kept to himself most of the time. He had two puppies, who weren't really puppies but you addressed them as such; Maui and Fuerte. Kostas wasn't home much as he was very busy with his job but every now and then you'll see him in his backyard with his dogs, training or swimming laps or whatever it is that he does out there.

It's a neighbourly hello and a few tummy rubs for the puppies before you head out and go about your day.

You balance the tray with one arm, setting the majority of its weight against your jutted out hip. You knock on the door and wait for someone to answer. There's some barking before the door opens, you can hear Kostas shooing the puppies away to stop them from coming out.

Behind him, you can see into the living room; a massive tree stood tall in the centre by the window, ornaments hung plentiful along the green branches. There's a few other Christmas-related things around the entryway.

"Hey!" He smiles, black sweatpants hanging low on his hips and a white vest that clung to his chest in all the right places; you scolded yourself for gawking at him. "Y/n, right?" He points to you with his finger.

"Yeah," you smiled at him, "I hope I'm not bothering you."

"Not at all," he shakes his head, shifting to stop the dog you know as Maui from coming outside. She poked her head between his legs, looking up at you curiously. "What's up?" He asks, watching as you look lovingly at his puppy.

"My niece is having a bake sale at school and asked me to bake some treats for her and the thing is, I went a little overboard." You laughed. "I realized I made too much, and I figured I would do the neighbourly thing and bring some over for you."

"Oh," he smiles at you, taking the tray that was heavier than it looked from you. "Thank you very much, I was wondering if someone opened a bakery around here. I've been smelling it since this morning."

A soft laugh slipped past your lips as you shrugged. "It got hot with the oven running so I opened the window."

Kostas nods, shifting his leg a bit as Maui tries to wiggle her head away from his legs. You smiled at the dog, peeking over Kostas's left shoulder to see her tugging on a toy with Fuerte.

"The ones with the frosting on it aren't puppy friendly but I put some in there that don't have frosting so you could share with them. There's also a few brownies and other things, I wasn't sure what you like, so I tried to put a mix of everything."

Kostas nods, thinking to himself that it was very sweet of you to consider his puppies when packing the tray. "Was that intentional? You know, catering to the puppies ?"

"Yes but also no. I did intentionally not put frosting on some of them for the pups, but you know kids and their allergies, all the ingredients are safe for the puppies. I made sure to double check."

"Thank you, y/n. I really appreciate it - we're gonna be eating these for the rest of the week." He says, glancing down at the tray. "Would you like to come in?" He steps to the side a bit, and as much as you want to say yes, you don't.

"Unfortunately, I have to get treats over to my brother's house so perhaps another time?" You looked at him, hoping for a yes to your rain check.

"Definitely," he nods. "Thank you again."

"Anytime!" You skipped down the pathway, giggling like a teenager with a crush. Kostas watched from his front door, smiling at you. "Have a good day, y/n!" He calls after you.

"You too, Kos!"

The nickname was something he heard often, mostly from his teammates, but it was the way you said it that made him blush and almost giggled like a school boy with a crush.

Kostas shut the front door and set the tray on his dining room table. As he takes the tinfoil off the top, all he can think about is what he can do to find himself in your presence yet again.

---

A few have gone by since you dropped in at Kostas's place and you had only seen him in passing since then.

You had successfully dropped off the treats for your niece and she called you to let you know that they were a hit. You had gone about your week as normal, tidying up and getting your place ready for the holiday season.

There was a knock on your door, you're a bit confused seeing that you weren't expecting anything or anyone, but you wiped your hands on the side of your shorts and found your way to the front door.

Much to your surprise, it was Kostas at the door; a pleasant surprise that is.

There's a rectangular box in his hand and an envelope on top. One hand on the bottom, and one hand on top to keep them in place as he smiles at you. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah, of course." You nod, stepping aside to let the man in. "I'm sorry about the mess, I was in the middle of tidying up."

Kostas nods as he glances around, trying to spot what mess you were talking about. The entire house looked as if it had been staged, not a single thing out of place.

And you have carefully thought out where to place your Christmas decorations, and Kostas noticed that. Your tree sitting in your living room in a spot that commanded attention, garlands wrapped around all of the railings and ornaments hung on all of the branches. All topped off with a pretty red and green wreath on your front door.

"Where are the babies?" You asked him, shutting the front door as he took his shoes off. "Groomers, sent them to get their holiday clean up. I can't stay long, I just wanted to drop this off." He smiles, following you to the kitchen.

Kostas sets the box on the table, handing the envelope over to you.

"For me?" You asked, taking it hesitantly. "I hope this isn't payment for the stuff I dropped off, because if it is-" "No," he shook his head with a smile, "just a thank you."

You carefully open the envelope, taking a sheet of paper out of it, and unfolding it. There's a few flowers painted across the piece of paper, it was clear that he used the puppies' paws to make the petals of the flowers. Some scrawled handwriting which you assumed belonged to Kostas was in the middle of the page; thank you miss y/n.

"Tell Maui and Fuerte I love their picture," you smiled at him, sticking the page on your fridge with a magnet.

Kostas smiles, watching you. "I'll let them know they made it onto the fridge as well." He joked, watching as you straightened the paper and stuck another magnet on there to keep it up.

You walk over to the table, standing in front of Kostas who's now made himself comfortable in your space. "What's this?"

"A thank you from me, I'm not as artistically skilled as my puppies."

You smiled, opening the box to find a chocolate cake. The brown frosting covered the majority of it, there are a few green and red decorations around the border, resembling mistletoe.

"You didn't have to do all this," you tell him, walking over to get a knife and two plates, as well as forks.

"It's the least I could do." He watches as you cut into the cake, handing a piece over to him. "I took some of the treats into work, the boys say I should've given you more than just a cake." He chuckles, taking a bite as you shut the box.

You nod towards the couch, and Kostas picks up his slice of cake following you, and the two of you sit in comfortable silence. The now empty plates sat on the coffee table as you rambled on about something your niece had told you about the bake sale.

Kostas listened intently, but his eyes wandered. Your shorts and hiked up a bit when you dropped yourself on the couch. You noticed his staring, not mentioning anything but you knew he wasn't fully listening. You pull the hem of your shorts, fixing it back to its original length. Kostas noticed and glanced up at you, his cheeks flustered and red.

"Sorry," he whispers, blushing like a school boy with a crush.

"I don't mind," you whisper.

Kostas hums, his eyes wandering over your legs yet again. He can't help but notice the colourful ink peeking out from under the hem of your shorts. "You have tattoos?"

"A tattoo," you correct him, pulling the hem of your shorts up and over your hip.

Kostas's eyes follow the design from the top of your thigh to just over your hip bone. There's a vine with a trail of flowers scattered along it; roses, lilies, daisies, wild flowers, any and everything in between. There's a lot of intricate details, the lines carefully placed to make it look cohesive and the colours of the flowers complimenting each other.

He hums in appreciation, stopping himself from reaching out to touch it. "It's beautiful." He smiles, glancing up at you. "Is it the only one you have?"

You nodded, laughing. "I was 19.. and drunk."

"You went big for your first time," his eyes meet yours and you can't help but feel that his words have a double meaning.

You shrugged, slouching back in your seat. Your leg crossed over the other and your shorts hiked up a bit more, showing off a few inches of your skin that Kostas was begging to put his hands on.

"Most people say you get addicted, but I just did the one and done."

He hums, gesturing to his arms that were covered in various designs and words. "Case in point."

"Just your arms or you've got more?"

Kostas nods, "my left leg and my ribs, and behind my neck." He lifted his shirt a bit to show you the tattoo on the left side of his ribs - an intricate portrait of what looked to be Adam and God.

Hesitantly, your fingers reached out and traced the shape of the tattoo. Kostas's eyes trailed from your face down to your hand and to your fingers, watching as you carefully outlined the ink along his skin.

"Beautiful," you mumbled and Kostas's cheeks flushed red, watching as you slowly moved your hand away.

He knew you were talking about the tattoo and yet he blushed, as if you had called him beautiful - but in a way, you did. And you meant it.

"Maybe I'll get another one, something small." You tell him and Kostas nods, offering to take you to his guy. Always the first one to offer up help and advice, he can hear Thiago's words in his head.

You look down at his leg, he was in shorts despite the cold winter air that nipped at you any time you opened the door - he had run over from his place after dropping the puppies off. You can see the lower half of his leg, the delicate shading and line work made up a stunning tattoo along his leg, the ink on his thigh peeked out from under the hem of his shorts.

"What's under there?" You nod and Kos's brows furrowed, looking at you for an explanation. "Under where?" He asks, making you giggle. It took him a second to realize why you were giggling but then he too, began to laugh.

You shook your head, "I meant your thigh, what's on your thigh?"

Kostas lets out a sound of understanding, shifting to pull the leg of his shorts up so you could see the tattoo. There's a massive portrait of a lion roaring, it didn't seem like Kostas's taste in tattoos but at the same time, it fit him to a T.

He nervously bites at his bottom lip as your hand rests on his knee, carefully slides up to his thigh. "Is this okay?" You whispered, glancing at him. Kostas nods, not sure if he remembers how to speak or even breathe - it feels as if you had taken all the air out of his body.

Your hand slips further up, leaning into the man in front of you. Kostas glances at your lips, your eyes and back to your lips. He sees your tongue wet your bottom lip, pressing them together.

Just as you were about to speak, Kostas beat you to it; "can I kiss you?"

You smile, "I thought you'd never ask."

His hand reaches for your jaw, holding it gently as if you'd break. Kostas brushes his thumb over your cheek, smiling at you sweetly before closing the gap between the two of you.

It was something out of a movie, you had never felt this way about anyone before. It just made sense; you fit against him as if you were meant to be there all along.

Kostas must have had the same thought, pulling you over and onto his lap, letting you straddle him. His hand slips down your side, resting on your hip. "You're so beautiful."

You can't help the blush on your cheek, you lean down to kiss him once again. You can feel his shorts rubbing along your inner thighs as he pulls you to him, trying to have you as close to him as possible. A hand on his shoulder, rolling your hips slightly to test the waters.

He seems to have gotten the idea; lifting his leg to give you more leverage. Your thighs are slotting either side of his, Kostas's hand rests on your hip, lazily brushing his thumb over your hip bone. He watches closely, listening to every little sound that slips past your lips.

"Kos," you mumbles, and the man perks up. "What is it, love?"

"Want you."

The words barely leave your lips and you're being flipped over, flat on your back before he pulls you by your legs, re-situating you to his liking.

Kostas is careful, pulling your shorts and panties off - they're tossed somewhere behind you. It's an issue for later. He kisses up from your calf, letting your legs rest over his shoulders. He's gentle, calculated - as if he knew exactly what to do, as if he had done it before.

Thighs on either side of his head, you weren't fully against his face but Kostas's hands grip the back of your thighs, pulling you further down. He glances up at you, a wicked smile on his face. "Is this okay?" He whispers into your skin, moving closer to exactly where you wanted him.

You nod, "please." The word comes out a bit more desperate sounding than you'd like but you could care less. You needed him - in every single way.

His hands rested on the back of your thigh, pulling you down flat against his face, his tongue pressed against your slit. 

Your body juts forwards - not only from the pulling but from the feeling of his tongue on you. Reaching forward, your manicured fingers tangle in his hair.

Kos' tongue curled upwards, brushing against your clit and you tug on his hair, something incoherent meets his ears - partly because he was focused on what he was doing but also because your thighs were squishing his face. 

He didn’t care. 

He loved it. 

A soft groan leaves his lips when you tug on his hair, trying to move him a certain way. “That- oh!” Your chest heaves, tugging on his hair to get him to do that again. 

His grip on your thighs would leave marks as would the stubble scratching along the inside of your thighs. He rocked you a bit, pulling you closer as his nose brushed against your clit, his tongue moving down to lap over your cunt.

Kostas glances up, his tongue on your clit and he can’t help but admire the view above him. Your chest heaving, tits spilling out over the black lace over your chest, your head tossed back and eyes fluttering closed as his name falls from your lips like a prayer.

He lets you pull him closer, his nose brushing your clit, replacing his tongue as he moves it elsewhere, his fingers pushing into you slowly. He sits up a bit, fingers curling and pumping in you, your eyes still closed.

His free hand reaches up to hold your jaw, pulling your focus to him. “You’re perfect, did you know that?” He asks and you can barely focus enough to grasp the words he was saying, let alone give him an answer.

“Need you,” you mumble.

“What do you need?” He asks.

“Need you.” You say once more.

He hums, he knows he’s not gonna get much more of an answer from you, he just had to give you what you wanted and Kostas knew exactly what you wanted.

You whimper at the loss of his fingers but passes his fingers over your lips, letting you suck on them for a moment as he shuffles his pants down.

Both of you let out a satisfied sigh when he pushes onto you, your leg pulled up onto his hip and he leans over you. His lips brushes against yours,

Kostas's cock twitches when you clench around him, “oh fuck,” he breathes, forehead against yours. “This pussy was made just for me, hm? Take me so well, my pretty girl.”

He pushes the straps off your shoulders, tits spilling out over the top of the bra. He glances down, letting you wrap your legs around his waist and he leans down to kiss you once more, leaving a trial of marks and sloppy kisses until he reaches your tits.

There’s a faint purple mark between your tits; his new favourite spot.

“You're so pretty like this,” he says, your hips buck, wanting more from him. He can feel you clench around his cock. “Fuck, gonna make me cum, darling.”

“Kos.. please.” You breathe, and he gives in, he can’t help himself; you’ve got him wrapped around your finger. “Want you to fuck me full,” you whisper to him. He shuffles a bit, pulling both of your legs over his shoulders.

The change in position does it; his thrusts sloppy, signalling that he too was close. You feel Kostas cum, your legs dropping off his shoulders as you do.

He's still buried in you when he drops down onto you, landing with an oof. You let out a giggle, your hand passing through his messy hair as he peppers kisses along your shoulder.

The two of you lay there for a while, basking in each other's company and the silence. It hits you; "Kos?"

"Yeah?"

"Aren't you supposed to go get the puppies?"

"Oh crap!" He's pulling himself up, hurrying to get dressed. You take that as your cue to get redressed as well. You figured you'd see him again at some point, not expecting him to grab your hand. "Do you wanna come with me?" He asks, walking with you to the front door.

"Isn't it too early to introduce me to the kids?" You joked, already grabbing your hoodie.

Kostas smiles, "they love you, and.."

"Yeah, same." You smile, the words left unsaid for another time.

---

taglist: @nosugarallspice  @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16  @books-and-netflix-pls  @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade  @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @trentsfav @trentsmyfave @noturbabe22