#this is the most time I have ever spent looking at a bug

[nymori]

I've been stitching some cicadas lately. This year is going to be a big one for the screaming bugs!

For those interested in making their own cross stitched cicadas, the patterns are available for sale here and here! (Please note: my software skills mean that I had to freehand the AAAAAs rather than place them in the pattern itself, so those are not included in the patterns. This does mean that you can make these little guys uniquely your own and add any sort of scream that you'd like, though!)

[carolmunson]

you get me closer to god | kas!eddie (dark)

entry for my fall frenzy requests. this request comes in from @edsforehead: 'something with kas!eddie in a graveyard.'

a/n: y'all, i don't know. i kind of snapped with this one. sort of canon compliant. inspired by a post that i saw that said that after vampires feed they have an insatiable desire to breed afterwards. steve also makes an appearance cause i love him.

tw: 18+ MDNI, dub-con, dub-con, dub-con (reader does get into it). use of hypnosis, coercion. blood play, blood drinking, biting. very obvious power dynamics at play here. death of minor character mentioned. p in v smut, rough and sensual. oral (f-recieving), monster-type-fucking. mild chasing trope. some religious elements if you squint??? anyway i listened to closer by nine inch nails on a loop for this if you wanna know the general vibe. let me know if there is anything i missed and need to put on here!

October 31st, 1998

Your niece had a better haul than you ever did at this age, it seemed like every house on the fancy side of Hawkins was giving out full size candy bars. No one ever gave you full size candy bars. The Harrington's had outdone themselves this year, hoards of kids picking out wrapped caramel apples and passing out spiked cider to the parents. Humming and smiling while the adults hugged their parkas to their chests, kids running up and down the stairs of the cul de sac of Hawkins Mansions. Decorated to the nines -- you were happy that most of the street would tire her and all of her friends out. "Auntie!" she calls out, hurrying over to you while her pink and purple puffer coat swishes with her. Alycia glitters against the lights of the houses in the dark of the night, the red sequins on her leotard making her easy to find. Your sister-in-law made her a headband fitted with red horns with a pointed tail sewn into the back of the red tu-tu from her Spring recital to match. A Dancing Devil she called it -- for newly six, she was a pretty creative little bug.

"Auntie look," she yells, running into your legs. The spiked cider sloshes in your cup that you hold high over her head so it doesn't spill onto her. She holds up a decorated caramel apple covered in eyeballs made out of sugar.

"Gross, Leesh," you giggle, "It's got eyeballs all over it!"

"They're fake eyeballs, Auntie," she explains like you're stupid, "They're not real eyeballs."

"Oh, thank you for telling me. I didn't know," you giggle, catching Steve watching the two of you chat. Your cheeks burn, that crush from when you were fourteen and he spent the summer working at the mall never fully fading. He's married with four kids now so you should probably get over it. "How're things?" he asks from the curb, coming over to sneak Alycia a couple of Reese's cups. "They're good," you shake your head with a shrug, "They're fine. Out here with the rugrat while her mom's at work." "How's the family, your mom?" he presses, arms crossing over his broad chest that stretch the sleeves of his tan workwear jacket.

"She's doin' okay," you smile tightly, "Always a little hard for her this time of year."

"Five years now, isn't it?"

"To the day," you say with a lilt, "Gonna go visit him after I drop her with her grandparents. My dad'll be so thrilled to steal half her stash."

Your laugh is a little hollow when he squeezes your shoulder comfortingly, he slips a candy bar into your hand, too before saying his goodbyes -- set of twins running around his ankles.

Hawkin's bravest fireman somehow off duty on a night like this turns before you take your niece's hand to leave, "Be careful out there at night. You know it's not always safe."

"You don't believe in all those rumors, do you Harrington?" you laugh.

"Don't have to believe them or not," he says seriously, pushing his wire rims up his nose, "I know they're not rumors."

"Happy Halloween, Steve," you say dully, "Goodnight." You both wave, Alycia's little hand in yours while she rattles off a million words a minute about the skeloton outside of the Sinclair house. The moon glows down over the street, dark clouds slicing it like a broken plate.

You rarely visit your brother on the day of, especially since there's always idiot teenagers running around the place. Not exactly easy to mourn when some loser in a Scream mask keeps trying to scare you.

It was quiet, your Docs crunching on mid-fall frosty grass -- some of it already half dead with the season. Commotion from the town in the distance had dulled into mostly nothing now that the kids had turned in for the night. Families turning their porch lights out, settling in for scary movies and sugar highs.

You squeeze the bouquet of baby's breath and eucalyptus a little hard in your hands when you walk through the tombstones. The low lamps along the walk way casting the grass and asphalt in a looming orangey glow -- not offering much light beyond their posts. The moon does the work, still looking shattered amongst the thin gray clouds sliding through the sky.

You hear some giggling, the rustle of leaves, the snap of twigs. Always an outlier of kids doing spells or a Ouija board out here this time of year -- old Chief Hopper coming down to make them scatter and take their weed. You walk off the path when you get a decent way in, crossing away from where the cemetary mostly turns to forest. Four 'Happy Birthday To Yous' into the brush and then a left, two head stones, then a right -- it's the third headstone on the fourth row. No light to shine down on you this time, just whatever's left in the sky. You take your big yellow scarf off from around your neck to lay over the grave, giving yourself a place to sit so your spandex covered thighs didn't have to touch the grass. Your mom would kill you if you got grass stains on the red trench she let you borrow -- a makeshift Carmen Sandiego costume if anyone asked.

You sit, laying the bouquet right at the granite edge, tracing his name before letting your hand drop. You don't say anything for a while, letting the cool wet air run over you in waves. You wonder if the wind blowing is him saying hey.

A few cemetery patrons come by, pay their respects to their loved ones and leave. Some superstitious, some religious. They fade out after a while. The loneliness is comforting, just you and your brother hanging out together like before. Despite being six years apart, it felt like you both always had some weird wonder twin telepathy. He was never really one for a lot of words.

"Didn't that guy tell you not to come around here so late?"

You jump at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, turning around to see an even more unfamiliar person. Wild curly waves messy around his face, cut in 80s shag perfection. His face chiseled, jawline pronounced with soft stubble, soaked in fake blood. It trails down his neck and stains the white of the baseball tee underneath a leather jacket; fitted over top with a battle vest that rivaled the metal heads of the 70s.

"Who're you, huh? You following me?" you ask. You swallow nervously, finding solace in seeing a few other cemetary visitors mosying around. The faint giggle of more mischeif causing teenagers in the distance.

"Sorry," he laughs, a warm laugh that meets his eyes, "Didn't mean to scare you. I um, I saw you over by the cul de sac, overheard him say somethin' to you. I was with my little cousin -- dressed like a mermaid, I don't know if you remember."

You think back to Leesh's pal of trick-or-treaters, scanning them in your head to recall a little girl with big brown eyes and a makeshit Ariel costume on under her jean jacket -- covered in patches much like his.

"Yeah," you smile, "I remember. But that didn't answer my question -- are you following me?"

"Nah," he grins, shaking his head, "I'm visiting someone -- this was just a happy accident."

"Oh," you respond quietly, "Who're you visiting if you don't mind me asking."

"My mom," he shrugs, scrunching his nose, "Halloween was her favorite holiday so I always try to come say hi."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you offer in condolences, "Did you um -- did you grow up here? I feel like I'd remember you."

"Nope," he sighs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans while his wallet chain jingles next to his thigh, "Grew up with my uncle."

"Oh, nice," you nod, "Well um --"

"Who're you visiting?" he interrupts, sitting on the gravestone next to your brother's; hardware tinkling prettily as he does.

"Pete," you say, hand out to gesture towards the shiny granite in front of you, "My brother."

"Nice to meet you, Pete," he turns his head, curly hair flouncing over his shoulder, "Pleasure."

You laugh, he laughs with you -- you have to laugh about it or else you'd have to deal with the alternative. You're pretty sure you're all cried out about your brother now.

"What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

"He worked construction," you shrug, "Took an overnight shift five years ago by the quarry, an' it was Halloween so he was workin' by himself -- no one to spot his safety gear. Must've fallen off the rigs or something and since it rained a lot that year the quarry was basically a lake at that point, hit his head and drowned. His body was completely banged up and waterlogged, they could only ID him from his pass in his pocket."

"Shit," he nods, "That's -- that's fuckin' awful. I'm sorry."

You shrug, "Bitch of living, I guess."

"Hm," he nods, "I wouldn't know."

"What do you mean?" you ask with a cocked head, eyes lingering on him while his linger on you. "Don't worry about it," he smirks, the kind that makes your heart flutter; cheeks getting hot at the sound of his voice. "You know something," you start, "With this whole get up -- and you're not from here so you might not know -- you look just like --"

"Eddie Munson?" he asks, with raised brows, "Yeah, my aunt's been telling me that forever. That's why I sorta dressed up like him for Halloween."

"That's dangerous around Hawkins, especially this time of year," you warn him, standing up from your spot and picking up your scarf. You shake it out to get some of the grass of the underside. You hardly notice the way his eyes trail from your shoes over your calves to your thighs.

"Some people say that he went right to hell after that earthquake since he killed that girl," you explain, shrugging the trench off some to fit the scarf on under it, "And now he's a demon that haunts Hawkins and terrorizes the town."

You both laugh, though his drops to a low and guttural hum. Nearly a growl. You lift your head to see him just a foot in front of you now, and you can really look. You can really see him. The paleness in his skin, tendrilled navy veins raising through it as he leans close to you.

At this distance it's clear that the hollowness in his eyes isn't makeup, but the sparkling brown is sunken into his skull. His brows darkened and determined while he looks at you.

At this distance, it's clear that the blood on his jaw is real.

"They're close," he says with a sly smile, "Really should've listened to Harrington, sweetheart."

You swallow hard, icy sweat in a film on your body while he takes a step forward.

"Those rumors are true."

The icy air shreds your throat as you run, heaving it in and out in gasps. Your calves scream, thighs aching while you sprint through the brush of the forest; trench and scarf long forgotton somehwere amongst the trees. You try to ignore the way twigs and branches swipe at your face, slicing you and scratching you with unforgiving whips. You let out a cry while you speed, leaping over roots and piles of leaves all while trying to listen with peak percision. Is he close? Is he getting closer? Can he see you?

You stop behind a log near a dip in the earth, rocks above it. Climbing in you heave, trying to catch your breath -- you aren't really made for this. You don't know how girls in the movies can run that long without needing a break.

With a deep inhale in, you hold, using the quiet to try and hear him but there is nothing to be heard. No rustling, no creaks in the wood or in the wind.

You catch your breath, slowly creeping out of your hiding space while the darkness hones -- trees blocking out some of the moonlight. You take a step and then another, trying to make as little noise as possible.

Your efforts are of no use though -- you stomach turns at the sound. The flap of wings, leathery wings -- big. A shaky breath in gives you the courage to turn your eyes up. On one of the taller branches above you he sits, pale and domineering, "Hi, sweetheart."

You bolt again, depserate and sobbing while the cold air is no longer a hello from your brother but mother nature's cruel bite on your wet cheeks. You can barely take in breaths without pain in your throat and chest, turning left and right and left again to lose him but from above he can predict your every move.

When you hear silence again you take another turn, a mausoleum broken down a short distance away. You crawl your way in, wet earth and cement hitting your nose while you gasp and heave for the second time. You listen for the wings for moment, a few moments -- a calm washing over your back when you're sure he's gone.

You take a step back further into the darkness to be sure you're unseen. Deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth. One, twice, three times.

Another step back and you bump into a pillar making you jump, a screech wrenching from you.

Not a pillar no, not by the way a set of claw bites into your shoulder.

"Would've been a good hiding spot if it wasn't for me finding it first, right?" he quips, "Bummer." "Y-you can't d-do this," you cry, "The r-rumors are true they'll -- they'll look for me! Steve knows about you!"

"Oh, babe, that's so cute," he muses with a giggle, "Why do you think I'm still here, huh? Steve's just like me, he's bitten too."

"B-but--"

"Why do you think he believes in all those rumors, huh baby?" he asks with a lilt, "Cause he's one of 'em. Well -- not all the way, I guess. Not like me."

"He blows my cover he blows his whole operation," he grins, sharp teeth bearing themselves at you, "Why d'you think he only works night shifts?"

"I -- don't -- I don't," you sputter, "Pl-please d-don't bite me, d-don't eat me I -- I'll do whatever."

"You're too funny," he says in your ear, deep and grizzly while you're rooted to the spot under his clutch, "I already ate, sweet girl. But you'll make a fine dessert."

You don't know how you get there but it's not like home -- it is but it isn't -- dark and deadly; covered in slithering vines. You're too petrified to ask; but whatever this place was, despite the spores in the air and the rubble from the walls -- it was much nicer than the trailer he grew up in.

"Shh, shh, shh," he coos, claws deep in your shoulder while he wrenches you to a bed covered in plush linens -- satin and full. In the blur around you it could almost be a movie set; the booms of red lightening, dripping pillar candles in heaps around the room.

You whimper at first when his claws release, hot blood oozing against your sweater. The pain pulses like a dull thud, spit flooding your mouth while you move to your side to wretch but he catches you by the root of your hair. You wail in fear, smelling the decay in his breath, the sweet subtle rot of your surroundings.

"It's not polite to cause a scene in a stranger's home, right princess?" he asks with a soft lilt. He holds your gaze, warmth spreading over you when he smirks again -- and despite your fear, you can't look away. You aren't even sure if you want to look away.

Your body goes slack on the comforter, melting into itself like a dropped marionnette. "Very good," he purrs. Hazy, you feel his hands on you -- losing their warmth while they sneak under the hem of your sweater. The pads of his fingers are soft in comparison to the tips of his nails, grazing your stomach and sternum before reaching up to cup your breasts. He lets out a shallow breath, squeezing the delicate flesh softly in his palms -- so gentle despite his rough demeanor.

His thumbs graze your nipples in slow circles earning him a mewl from your dry throat.

"So easy," he giggles in a whisper. You nearly pout when his hands slide down and away from you; beginning the unhurried removal of your clothing. He moves glacially, eyes remaining on yours, wraiths of whispers in a lanuage you don't understand fluttering in the air around you -- in one ear and out the other. Part of you wants to scream and thrash while he slides off your spandex, rips the seams of your panties, destroys your socks.

His clawed hands shred your sweater, snap your bra at the straps until all your clothes are left in a heap on the dusty floorboards by a forgotten desk. He crawls over you like a predator, undressed himself now: some how bigger, more hulking than before. His shoulders are broad, muscles flexing while skin so white it's nearly blue stretches over it. Whatever is down here has completely infected him, you can see it in the color of the veins beneath his skin, the slight red in his pupils, the dark blue hues under his eyes.

His wings lift high around him in an arched half circle, tips appearing behind him like a hybrid of horns and halo at once.

"Could smell you from here," he leers, "since last night. Christ, fucking drooling over you like a kid."

You whimper again, body jolting in pain when his nails pierce your thighs when he parts them. Fresh ichor spilling from the wounds in deep sanguine and he doesn't seem to care about the mess he's making while it drips onto the sheets. His cavalier manuevering comes off as though he likes to play with his food before he eats it.

"And I don't know what it is, angel, how my senses find the right ones," he rasps while he leans forward to your blood soaked shoulder; serpent tongue slipping out to lave over it, "But you really called to me this year; think you might be the one."

"The o-one wh-what?" you sniffle. His tongue slides over the lacerations on your shoulder again, sucking slightly from the new wounds. He lets out a groan, using free hand to rest on the side of your rib cage for support.

He deatches from the well he drinks from, tip of his nose running over your decollatage and up your neck. In inhales over your jugular, pressing a wet kiss under your jaw before getting to your ear.

"The one I mate with, sweetheart," he breathes, "The one I breed."

Breed? You heart sinks like a stone into your belly, body tensing in a freeze while you think of what to do. How to get out of here.

"Wait," you gasp, arms coming up to push at his chest and push him away, "No, please, wait -- you can't."

You push and push but he's a stone pillar, he barely moves, his muscles barely push inward at your assault. He tuts, the click of his tongue between his teeth almost a chitter. He noses your cheek before looming over you, tips of your noses brushing. He catches your gaze again, the whispers start while the air blows in through the broken window. Obedire domino tuo, obedire domino tuo, obedire domino tuo. His lips aren't moving but you can hear his low voice in your ears, barely there, swirling around in your subconcious while the wind whispers with it. Another flash of red lightning illuminates him in a streak, the rumble of thunder vibrating your belly and chest. His hand floats up from your rib cage while you settle, cupping your cheek to slide down to your jaw and over your neck. The touch is nearly comforting, dipping you back into a haze like before.

"You were saying?" he asks.

"Hm?" your brows pinch, his voice muffled and far away.

"That's what I thought," he says smugly, head dipping back down to your neck where his lips drag over your delicate skin. His breath leaves a patch of wet heat that lingers when he moves down over your chest, fangs peeking out behind his full lips when he drags them over the swell of your left breast.

A gentle gasp escapes you, eyes fluttering closed when the tip of his tongue teases your pert nipple, blowing cool air against it once soaked with his spit. He flicks against it again, alternating sides, presses kisses over them in clear ownership. The more he tasted of you, the more it belonged to him.

With each touch and tease of your tits the more you gasp and whine beneath him, he chuckles from his belly, moving down to your sternum.

"And I died a virgin, can you believe it?" he asks with a cocky lift to one of his brows, "Now all I gotta do is smile and girls like you 'll just fall into bed with me."

There's cotton in your ears, all you can do is nod slowly while blood still leaks from your shoulder and thighs. All you can feel is his mouth and hands travel further and further down. The wind howls and the low chant in the back of your head changes tune but in the same cadence; over and over again: vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis.

He licks a stripe up the back of your thigh to catch a bead of blood before it reaches the mattress, savoring you. He feeds from the gouges he left behind for a moment before inching forward to the apex of your thighs. Eddie inhales your scent deeply, the earthly musk of you making his mouth water in a mix of metal and spit. His nose brushes against the untrimmed hair of your mound, ghosting himself over it drunk with attraction.

Your body heats up with mild embarrassment, flexing while your hips writhe slightly underhim. Almost as if he can hear your thoughts he kisses the crease of your thigh, "Nothing to be embarrassed about, baby. Girls don't let it grow like this anymore n' it's such a shame."

You want to speak up and explain it's just 'cause you haven't had the time but your tongue doesn't know how to move anymore. Too tired to speak, too caught up in how he feels, how he touches, how he takes what he wants. You relent again, body relaxing; pliant while he spreads you apart for him a desperate moan pulling from you when his tongue -- still soaked in your blood -- glides from the pool of slick at your opening all the way up to your clit.

You almost gag at the way your body betrays you, sending a spread of electricity over your nerves from your core to your finger tips. "More," you whisper, not even believing you're begging for him, "Please, more."

Eddie's smug in his response, smiling with his eyes while he looks up at you from between your legs, "And good manners? You spoil me, princess."

Your back arches in a soft curve when your hips push back into the mattress, pressing yourself into his waiting mouth. He groans again when your body drips for him, leaving a damp sheen on his cheeks and chin. It's not about your pleasure despite how much of it he's bringing you, but about your consumption. He's devouring you. Licking his plate clean from the outside in.

The moans he takes from you spur him on, getting you further and further away from the fight you put up before. Spilling over for him like a puddle while you writhe, a hand reaching out to rake through his hair. His own reaches up from aroud your thigh to hold you by the wrist tight to your side.

"Hands to yourself," he murmrs, soft lips wrapping around your swollen clit to suck expertly on the bud. You whimper, tugging at his hold but it only makes his grip more intense, pinning you there without much a fight. Not even enough to distract him from the task at hand.

When his tongue sinks back down into your soaking core you feel it, the heat pulsing through your belly while he lets the muscle dip and swirl in your wetness. Your thighs twitch and shake when his nose bumps your sensitive clit, his free hand coming up to gingerly rub circles over it in tandem.

"Oh my god," you whine, "Oh my god -- K-kas don' -- oh my god, ohmygod." He snickers, contining his movements, murmuring a quiet, "God's not here, baby."

Another roll over your hips sends you reeling, his tongue gliding in long strokes when finally the coil in your belly snaps. You fall apart beneath him, loud moans and high pitched squeals while he consumes you through it. Your body vibrates, thighs clamping down over his ears, blood from the slices in your flesh staining his hair and jaw.

He hums low when you settle, gasping for breath on your already dry and scratchy throat while you come down. 

Eddie rises slowly, shoulder blades and wings moving with him while he crawls up your body. Smooth and languid like a snake, his torso hovers above yours while he settles his hips between your thighs. You look up at him, his shape, the way his eyes have blown black, the newfound sharpness in his features. A creature, a monster in your wake — not the same person you saw at the cemetery. 

“Oh,” he coos when he sees your eyes glassy and rounded upon him, “So precious.” 

You're much weaker now, mind and body, the stings across your skin from the broken branches and his sharpened nails a pain you've become better accquainted with. You take another breath of calm, arms resting by your head with your palms up towards the ceiling. He takes the moment of surrender to hold them down against the bed. The pressure of his hips against yours keeps you pinned, but you barely fight -- maybe squirm, maybe whine. No thrashing, no screaming, the whispers echo through the wind again:

Vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis.

"So, so, precious," he whispers while he leans forward, kisses pressed to one cheek and then the other slow and controlled. He inhales again when he dips down to your neck, piercing fangs dragging over the vein there. You feel the push and then the pain, the unbearable blinding pain of his teeth ripping through you. Through your skin, through the muscle, the pulse of his mouth while he holds himself there.

You cry out, nearly a scream while he holds himself there -- just enough to infect you, just enough to get the poison in. The pain reaches a blinding peak, bile growing up your throat, eyes filling with a white hot surge of anguish and then -- Nothing. Euphoria. An unknown lightness you hadn't felt before.

He releases, still holding tight to your wrists above your head when he raises up over you again.

"Open," he instructs, and in your hazy gaze you obey. Your tongue flattens against your chin without command.

"Very good, sweetheart," he praises, collecting the blood left on his lips and in his cheeks to spit it directly into your waiting mouth.

"You can close now," he grins, "And swallow."

He grunts, hips sliding against you so that you can feel his length between your legs; the girth alone sends a chill to the part of you that is screaming inside your head. How is it supposed to fit? How is he supposed to get this inside you? "Don't worry," he laughs, "It'll fit."

When your vision snaps up at him he laughs again, "I can hear you in there, princess. I can always hear you."

He dips down again, tip of his nose sliding over your cheek to your ear, "So be very careful what you think about."

He doesn't need his hands to guide the head of himself into your already needy center. It's a stretch, delicious but nearing painful. It's not something you've ever even dreamed of taking before; thick, large, inhuman.

Your legs lift on their own accord while he pushes in further, getting half way while you let out a choked sob.

"Aw, shh, shh, shh," he mocks, easing in more, "C'mon you can take it."

"You can --" his hips snap in hard for the rest of him, letting out a ragged grunt when the rest of him disappears inside you, "--take it."

You mouth hangs open in a desperate oval, face crumpling when you become so full of him -- all encompassing. A part of you now, buried deep within. He moves, dangerously slow and controlled; methodic in how he thrusts himself deeper and deeper inside. "Mmm, that's it," he growls, chest to chest with him while his hip grind at a deliberate pace. You feel his hot breath fan out over your lips, forehead pressed against yours. He's not hot, he's not cold, just skin against yours while it flashes with heat. You go from shaking to sweating with minutes in between.

When your hips roll to meet his thrusts you moan, the tip hitting you so deep in your core that stars burst behind your eyes. "There we go," he grins mischeviously, "S'at feel good, pet?"

"Ooh, yes," you hiss through gritted teeth, actively trying to bounce yourself againsth him now that your body has started accommodating his sheer size. He raises himself up on his hands like a cobra, snake like peering down at you while he meets the roll of your hips with an unforgiving thrust.

"Good," he oozes the word out like smoke, deliciosly deep seated in his belly when he thrusts hard again. He mumbles a quiet musing to himself that you can't hear -- too gone in the lightness in your body, in the way nothing hurts, in the way you're so full.

Can finally fuck you how I wanna.

He gets up, sitting back on his haunches while still inside you, pushing your legs up so your knees end up by your ears. With this leverage he sinks in deep. You don't even know how far in he is, just that he's in and he's there, he's everywehre, he's outside and in.

Eddie locks eyes with you, that same smirk from the cemetary that made your stomach flip dancing across his devilish features, "Tell me you like it."

Your mouth moves before your brain can hesitate, "I like it." "Tell me you need it," he demands, tone measured and sure.

"I need it," you say back, your voice coming out broken and weak, "Please, I need it."

He pulls back and punches forward, hard enough that you gasp at the impact. He grips you hard by the backs of your legs, thrusts starting slow and building at an unrelenting pace. His eyes are wild; boring down at you through from under furrowed and determined brows. If you had any mind left, you'd think that he hates you by the way he stares.

"Fuck," he snarls, leaning forward over you, one hand pressing down on the mattress next to your head, "Shit -- fuck, that's it. That's fuckin' -- shit, you're fuckin' mine." "Say you need me."

"I need you," you choke back without thinking, barely able to breathe at his speed. The coil tightens deep inside of you again, tears pouring down your cheeks in waves -- not even crying, just recieving. Absorbing him. Your body rocks like a boat on unsteady waves pinned beneath him, the only sounds are the whispers in your subconcious, his growls and sputters like an animal above you. The lewd slaps of skin against skin, the squelches of him pushing you to your limits.

He steadies himself over you, nose to nose again while he fucks you. Really fucks you. Impressed with himself, he lets out a breathy chuckle when you throw your head back -- eyes shutting tight with a pornographic scream.

"Oh GOD!" you cry out, "Oh my god."

His fingers and claws catch your chin with a firm shake, eyes snapping open to meet the knowing glare of his ruddy brown ones.

"Your god," he starts, panting into your mouth, "is right here in front of you."

You swallow, mouth falling agape again when you feel the bite of his nails on the fat of your cheeks. "Right here," you repeat, dazed and overwhelmed, "N'..n'fronname."

"Right here in front of you," he nods, leaning down to brush his nose against yours while his thrusts slow to a steady pace. It's then that his lips meet yours, the kiss searing with desire and claim when his tongue slides into your mouth. You can taste the metallic twang of your blood in his mouth, sighing into it while he guides the kiss. Breaking away and coming back in; rushed and heated each time while he feels himself get closer to his peak.

His forehead presses against yours, one hand finally releasing your wrist to hold your head in place over your hair. You keep eye contact with him, not even sure if you're blinking, if you even need to blink. You rasp breaths, mouth and throat dry and aching while you breathe into him. You're close, teetering on the edge while he pushes you up with his hips to rest your lower body on his knees and thighs.

"Come undone," he murmurs, "Let go for me."

The command ripples through you, bursting through your belly with a warm heat. You welcome it, eyes rolling, cries pouring from you in words you don't think you understand. He encourages you, offering you rough sweet nothings while you pray to him, beg for him, ache for him.

That's enough to send him over; seeing you completely at his mercy now. Obedient, trained, devoured.

He snares and snarls, growling while he comes deep inside of you. The hand on your head wraps painfully in your hair like it did before you started -- uncaring, brutal. The heat of his seed pools deep within you like the heart of your orgasm. Glazed over you groan, hips rolling up in one final cant to receive him fully. Your vision vingettes while he unsheathes from you; fluids leaking onto the sheets. You're empty and the room spins with a new blackness, you're fading. Fainting? Dying?

The fuzziness continues to darken arouns you, around him, until he's all that's left in the tunnel of your vision. "That's a good girl," he soothes smugly, "Very well done."

Your gaze and mind fade fully to a staticky black.

You wake, you’re not sure how much later. 

Still on the bed and still undressed but your arms feel tight – a tug reveals your current state. Bound to a post on the headboard by a triple handcuff knot, dense hemp rope keeping your arms above your head. 

You whine and struggle, coming to your senses now – no one knows where you are, you barely know where you are. An underworld – hell. Somewhere. 

“Don’t look so terrified, sweetheart,” his smooth honey voice is heard before he appears in the candle light again, “I’m right here.” 

“Wh-why am I –” you swallow thickly, coughing and sputtering with how dry your mouth and throat are now, “Why am I tied up?” 

He looks at you with faux concern, brows raising, “Oh honey, are you okay?” 

He reaches out, pushing your hair away from your face, “Don’t be stressed. Y’know something – I just realized, I never offered you anything to drink.” 

“My uncle always told me you should take a girl out to dinner before makin’ the van rock and look at me,” he gestures at his chest, tutting at himself, “Where are my manners, huh?” 

Your lip wobbles while he looms over you, “Are you thirsty?” 

You nod, he grins – cheshire like, fangs glinting in the light, “I thought you would be.” He gets up, lazy and confident in his walk across the room. His body looks like marble, chiseled with the running and hunting you realize he’s been doing for over a decade. Stronger than ever; ethereal in his post orgasm glow. 

He pulls his hair back while he walks, holding it up away from his neck while your eyes travel down his back where his wings have tucked in under the skin. You gag when you see them move above his blades, rippling beneath the tattoos he has there. He’s dressed in only shorts; silk – likely stolen to really own the whole vampire thing he has going on. 

You take in a shaky breath when he gets what he needs, dropping his hair back to his shoulders when he makes his way back to you. 

He holds the dagger coolly in his hand before gliding the tip down the center of his wrist. Blood blooms from the wound; he doesn’t even flinch. 

“Open, princess,” he murmurs. Your lips clamp shut, shaking your head no while fear takes over – rot in your chest. He catches your chin again, forcing you to look at him like before. 

“Open,” he repeats, slower. His voice reverberates like a gong between your ears. 

Your mouth opens on its own accord and the smell of his blood becomes the most alluring scent you’ve had pass your nose in years. You latch on to the laceration, swallowing and sucking deeply on the wound while his blood and body quench and feed you better than any meal you think you’ve ever had. You feel revived as you devour him, eyes fluttering closed while the fill feels never enough. 

“That’s it, keep goin’,” he encourages under his breath, “Won’t have to keep asking you to do things twice once this is all over with.” 

You break away to breathe, gasping like you’re coming up for air, drowning in him. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean you’ll be just like me, sweetheart,” he says, chuckling when you eagerly lean forward to drink him again, “After a night of some deeply insurmountable pain; and then nothing. Just mine. Undead and mine.” 

“But y–you said you were – I’m –” your brows knit in confusion, “You didn’t h-have to d-do this; whatever you um – whatever you bred me with will die if you do this.” 

“Oh, no, no,” he laughs evilly, “I didn’t breed you quite yet.” 

He pulls his arm away, wiping the blood from your chin with his thumb roughly. 

“Consider what we did a, uh…hmm,” he takes a second to think about it with a hum, shrugging cheekily, “A soul bonding experience.” 

“You’re disgusting,” you spit. 

“I’m delicious,” he corrects, smearing his blood from your chin to your cheek, “If you do say so yourself.” 

He gets up again, pulling the covers out from under you to tuck you in. The chill getting to you in a way it never gets to him; you might as well be warm while you turn into actualized death. 

“I can hear you, remember?” he asks, tapping your head, “You won’t be totally alone with me. There’s…shit there are plenty just like us.” 

“Like Steve,” you pipe up groggily. 

“More than just goodie two-shoes Harrington,” he groans, “God, do you ever shut up about him?”

You sniffle in response.

“I mean this place, this – dimension,” he says, “It’s more than just Hawkins, and there are so many more like us; even up there.” 

He points upwards with a sharp nailed finger, “All around.” 

“And now that you’ll be just like me,” he smiles, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you in the crook of you waist, “There’ll be all the time in the world to breed you.” 

Your vision blurs, either from tears or from another fade, you aren’t sure. You can feel a slow burn through your veins, a rush of blood. You whimper. 

“So it begins,” he smirks, running the tip of his finger over your nose bridge. 

“Oh!” he says, eyes bulging, “Before I forget, and before I lose you – because you’ll be such a pretty blank slate when you come to – I felt like I should be honest.” 

He gestures dramatically, a maniacal grin pushing his cheeks up to his eyes while they spark, “Again with my manners, it was so rude of me to introduce myself to Pete’s grave at the cemetery. We’ve met before! Can’t believe I had almost forgotten.” 

Ice in your body fights the burning in your veins, you gag, bile coming up to singe your throat. 

“And y’know, I didn’t mean to drop him in the quarry when I was done with him,” he says with a scrunch of his nose, like he accidentally wrote the wrong tip on a restaurant check, “Really, my mistake, but Christ did he hit every piece of limestone on the way down.” 

He lets out a hearty laugh while he remembers it, your brother's body bouncing off rocks and metal before slipping under the water. You swallow your sick only or it to rise back up with a vengeance, staining your skin red while it seeps out of the corner of your mouth. You tug on the ropes in retaliation, hot angry tears stinging your eyes. 

“All that fallin’ did a number on him – which is good because it really took the heat of anyone knowing it was me. I just wasn't as clean about it back then. Much better now though,” he nods, finishing with a superior and charming look like he just told a bedtime story. 

He leans forward close to your face while your vision pulses in fuzzy black, browning out while he looks down at you. 

“And I’ll tell you something, babe…” 

Fading, fading, fading.

“He tasted divine.”

masterlist | fall frenzy | ko-fi

[onceuponastory]

closer - tattooartist!bucky barnes x female!reader

Plot: Y/N's feelings towards her tattoo artist intensify the closer he gets to her. Pairing: TattooArtist!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: A few mentions of needles - specifically tattoo needles - and the sensation and pain of getting tattooed (specifically when it goes over a bone). If that sort of thing gives you the squick, I wouldn't read. Notes: Welcome to... whatever this is. I just missed tattoo!artist Bucky and I hc him as a flirt and a slight pain in the ass so here we are!

Not beta'd, so any mistakes are my own.

“Alright.” Bucky grins, loading up his tattoo needle with ink. “You ready to start?” 

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” 

“You’ll be fine.” Bucky reassures. “Besides, it’s not like it’s going to be any different from the other ones I’ve done for you.” He chuckles.

He’s right, of course. This is not her first tattoo by Bucky Barnes. In fact, by this point, Bucky’s done most of Y/N’s growing collection of tattoos, and claims to be the very reason she was ‘bit by the tattoo bug’. And he’s right. Since she got her first tattoo from him, Y/N’s been itching to get more. She doesn’t see skin on her arms anymore, she sees empty space, a canvas for Bucky to fill with his art. And if she could, she’d have him cover her entire body with it.

Of course, the fact that her favourite tattoo artist (his words, not hers... although she agrees with him) is the most gorgeous man she’s ever seen is also why she keeps rushing back whenever she can. And he's also a massive flirt. Yet although it’ll never amount to anything, it never does… that doesn’t mean she can’t spend their sessions hoping for it. That one day he’ll notice her, really notice her, and tell her he’s just as much in love with her as she is with him.

As Bucky gets to work, Y/N turns her head, watching him. Of course, a lot of her sessions are also spent oogling her tattoo artist. Multicoloured tattoos of various designs and sizes cover Bucky's arms, piquing her curiosity. She's always wanted to ask him about them, to tell her the stories behind them, what was going on in his life back then to make him choose that design.

The familiar warm feeling of love begins to pool in her gut again, and Y/N sighs.

There's a lot of things she wants to know about Bucky.

"I can see you staring, you know."

"Just checking you're doing a good job." She lies. Bucky rolls his eyes.

"Oh, please." He looks down at her, trademark smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "You use that excuse all the time. You just can't resist me."

Asshole.

Thankfully, Bucky soon drops it, going back to working on her tattoo. Today, he’s doing a piece that snakes up her arm and onto her shoulder, meaning he’s frequently getting up close and personal, more so than she’s used to. However, she doesn’t mind that at all. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As Bucky works, Y/N occasionally glances over at him, still watching him curiously. Both because she actually enjoys seeing Bucky at work, and because again, he’s gorgeous. Thankfully, Bucky doesn't seem to have noticed this time. Or if he does, he doesn't call her out on it.

Some of Bucky’s brunette strands escape his man bun, framing his face. Y/N has to stop herself from reaching up and tucking it behind his ear. Despite how close she and Bucky are, that gesture is too intimate, too close for them… even as he moves further up her arm and onto her shoulders.

At one point, she glances over again, not realising he’s a lot closer than expected. So much so that her skin almost brushes against Bucky’s hair. For a split second, a flash of pink crosses Bucky's cheeks, and she frowns. Was he...blushing? Because of her?

“Oh, sorry.” She murmurs, her cheeks burning. How does he even look hotter up close? “Just tell me to move back if you want… or just move me out of the way.” She jokes awkwardly, only adding to her embarrassment. Hopefully, this session will be over before she makes even more of a fool of herself in front of Bucky.

“It’s okay.” Bucky smirks, running a hand through his few strands of hair, a sight that makes Y/N glad she’s laying down to witness. “You’re perfect, actually.” He chuckles. “Don’t tell the others I said this… but you’re my favourite client.” He winks.

She swears this man will be the death of her some day.

As Bucky continues the tattoo, he suddenly goes over a tender area, and she winces in pain. “You okay? You’re doing great, but let me know if you wanna stop, alright?” Bucky says. Gritting her teeth, Y/N nods.

“I’m good.” She gasps. "I just forgot how much that hurts."

It’ll all be worth it. It always is.

At least, getting to see Bucky makes it worth it, anyway.

“Good girl." Bucky smirks. 

Fucker.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The remainder of the session passes in silence, and Y/N’s head swirls. If she told him the truth, laid her heart out on the line… would it be so bad? 

She braces herself, opening her mouth to speak. But Bucky gets there first.

“You know Y/N, we’ve known each other for long enough that I feel like we’re friends. So the trust between us is solid enough.” He chuckles, refilling his ink. 

In actuality, she and Bucky have known each other for almost three years. Not that she’s been counting or anything. And despite Bucky doing most of her tattoos, she’s been at the shop infrequently enough that she wouldn’t consider themselves ‘friends’. But the thought that Bucky considers them friends makes her heart do that funny thing it always does whenever she sees Bucky - when it somehow beats too fast and almost stops. 

God, she wants him so badly.

“Yeah, that’s true. And besides, you’ve been up close and personal with me a lot.” She chuckles, another batch of heat spreading across her cheeks. Bucky laughs brightly, and Y/N grins just as wide.

“You’re right, I have.” He nods. “To be honest, by this point I’m convinced I could say or do anything, and you’d say ‘yeah!’, tattoos or otherwise.”

“Yeah!” she giggles.

“Okay.” Bucky muses, looking up at her with a smirk. “Go on a date with me then.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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[goosita]

first of all i love you. really. everything that you're writing is making my life so much better, so thank u <3 if that's okay for u, could you write something where reader is a single mom, she has a little girl and her daughter is very attached to billy? and it's the most sweetest thing ever cause billy loves her, calls her little princess (very sweet tooth 😭) one night, her daughter asks billy to read a storie for her to sleep and he does so and in the end, she says something like "i wish you were my dad" and it's just so cute and funny cause she gagged everyone, reader is like "babe!!!!" while billy is in shock but at the same time his heart is melting 🥺🥺 (sorry if this is too much, just write if u want!)

oh im. gonna cry and sob and piss everywhere this is the sweetest softest thing ive ever read yes oh my god

billy would be so so sweet with your daughter, especially if she was around 4-6 years old. at first you were worried that a man like him wouldn’t want anything to do with a single mother, especially one as young as you. but he never asked you to explain, and never judged you for it. all he ever did was treat you like a queen, and your daughter like a princess.

and your little girl is just enamored with him. she follows after him like a little duckling, so much so that billy starts to call her “ducky”. it makes her giggle every single time, always makes billy smile all warm and fond. they get on like a house on fire, your man and your baby girl. billy teaches her things like how to ride a horse, how to tie all kinds of knots, how to rope a little goat even. your daughter tells you one evening, her little face very serious, that she thinks “billy knows everything, mama. everything!” you want to let her believe it for as long as possible.

on this particular day, all 3 of you had spent the day together. billy had showed up bright and early to take you for a picnic out in a meadow behind your house, a daylong excursion that lasted until the sun slowly set. it was late spring, cicadas beginning to sing in the tall grass. once it got dark outside, billy pulled out a jar and showed your daughter how to catch fireflies. once they had about 10 of them, they sat on the blankets with their heads ducked together to observe them, giving each one a unique name.

“let’s call this one tommy,” she says, pointing at a bug near the bottom.

“perfect name, ducky. how’d you get so good at this?”

your little girl giggles, shrugging and letting billy name the next one. it makes your heart so happy to see a man with so much patience and love for your daughter.

when you finally return to the house, it’s time to get your kid ready for bed. tired and pliant from her long day outside catching bugs and weaving flower crowns (that of course billy taught her how to do), she goes down without much of a fight. she does ask billy to stay and tell her a bedtime story, though, and he’s never been one to deny that sweet little face whatever she wants.

you half-listen as billy spins some wild tale about a princess who slay dragons herself, one who doesn’t need a prince to come and rescue her. she’s strong and brave and guess what? she looks just like your little girl, same hair color and little lilac colored dress. his story makes her smile, even as her sleepy eyes begin to blink more slowly. when he finishes, he leans down to kiss her forehead softly and tuck her blanket around her small little body.

“i wish you were my daddy,” she murmurs sleepily, rubbing her eye with one small fist. you see billy freeze and slowly look to you, unsure what to say.

“oh, baby—“ you start, taking a step forward. billy gently cuts you off, which you welcome, not sure what to tell her.

“you know, ducky, sometimes i wish that too,” he whisper conspiratorially. her eyes light up curiously.

“really?” she asks, looking up at him.

“mhm,” he says with a nod. “but i think this little thing we have going here is even more special. you know why?”

she waits for an answer, eyes full of curiosity and wonder at the man sitting on the edge of her bed.

“because i didn’t help to give you life, life gave you and me to each other. and that’s pretty special, don’t you think?”

your little girl smiles, nodding her head. you swallow hard, your eyes feeling a little misty at the way he loves your baby and she loves him. it’s so pure, so unconditional the way they’ve attached themselves to each other.

billy smiles at her and brushes her hair away from her face, giving her chubby cheek a soft caress.

“sweet dreams, baby girl.”

“goodnight billy,” she says with a little yawn, snuggling down into her pillow. billy blows out the oil lamp beside her bed, following you out of her bedroom and closing the door softly.

“i’m sorry if i overstepped, i didn—“ he’s cut off by you grabbing his face and pulling him down into a dizzying kiss. you smile against his mouth when he doesn’t hesitate for even a second to kiss you back, his arms winding around your waist to pull you closer.

“thank you,” you whisper when you finally break away for air. “for loving both of us, for taking care of us.”

“sweetheart, you don’t have to thank me for that. i’ll always be here to take care of my two best girls,” he says with a grin, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. “and who knows? maybe one day soon you’ll let me put a ring on that pretty little finger and that little girl in there can call me whatever she wants.”

[hannieehaee]

Hello!!! Long time reader here 🫣🫣 I was wondering if I could request a little svt scenario :>?? Could it be where you're struggling with opening a jar or smt and so you ask them for help but while they're struggling to open it as well, their hand or arm slips and accidentally hits you. I'm curious what their reaction would be. (Recently happened with my guy friend and the poor guy freaked out apologizing 😭)

being unable to open a jar and wacking you in the process

content: gender neutral, reader is implied to be physically weaker than the member, height difference implied in dk's, accidental hitting (its implied to be an accidental light smack on the cheek/chest area; no actual harm is done)

wc: 1720

a/n: this is so silly help 😭 thank u so much for reading my work and for requesting! <3

masterlist

seungcheol -

seungcheol is a proud man. he's very proud of his strength and loves to show it off, which is why he secretly adores whenever you ask him for anything that requires him to show off his ripped physique to you. if you ever need help with a jar, he's got you! or so he thought. if he ever attempted to open a jar for you but failed at it, he'd be a little embarrassed, but that would not compare to his look of absolute mortification at accidentally hurting you in the process, not having realized his arm would slip off the container as he failed at opening it. the next twenty minutes would be spent with him apologizing over and over, not knowing whether to focus on the pain he inflicted or the embarrassment he's feeling.

jeonghan -

he'd wonder why you're asking him of all people. he's not known for being necessarily strong, so he's not sure why you'd seek him. yeah, he's the boyfriend and all but he never signed up for jar-opening duties. bug killing? maybe. driving? he's your guy. but opening jars? he usually seeks seungcheol or mingyu for that. but since he's jeonghan, he'd say yes to whatever you asked him without much complaint. however, you shouldnt have been surprised when the end result was a still-closed jar and a red cheek. yours. your red cheek, as jeonghan's hand had slipped and caught your cheek in the process. he'd find the situation ironic, thinking that maybe you'd kind of asked for this .. but he would not actually voice that thought and instead would baby you until you whined at him to stop, insisting it didnt hurt that much.

joshua -

he's used to opening jars for you, enjoying the way you usually swoon over the swollen muscle he occasionally likes to show off to you. this happens quite often actually. he's half sure you don't even attempt to open them yourself, just immediately handing them over to him as if he had a built-in command dedicated to opening jars. which he kind of did in a sense. the one off time he'd fail at opening a jar and hurt you in the process would cause him to widen his eyes in terror, thinking he mightve really hurt you. until you started laughing (at his reaction mostly), causing him to whine at you and tell you to do it yourself!

jun -

he'd do anything you asked without question. he's opened millions of jars for you at this point. he doesnt even think about it as he does it, its just an automatic reaction by now. and thus far, he's never met a jar that has overpowered him. until now. this very moment in which he found himself struggling. but he would not be defeated by a jar right in front of the love of his life. who would be defeated, however, would be you, the receiver of a smack right across the face, courtesy of jun's elbow. like most other members, he'd immediately drop the jar and tend to you, cursing at the jar in chinese for causing him to lay hand on you.

soonyoung -

he never outwardly shows off his strength to you, but enjoys things such as opening jars because they allow him to reestablish his rightful role as boyfriend. whats a boyfriend for if not for opening jars for their significant other? on the rare occasion he's unable to open a jar for you, he would refuse to give up, roaring at the challenge (yes, roaring, like a tiger) and putting even more strength into it. this would prove fruitless the moment his hand slipped from the jar's cap, leading his elbow to land straight against your chest, making you yelp. depending on his mood that day, he'd either grow sheepish and beg for forgiveness, or simply laugh as he rubbed at the red area in which his elbow landed, kissing it better. silly guy.

wonwoo -

another one of the strong boys™️. he's used to helping you out with any heavy lifting (literally and metaphorically). enjoys the domesticity behind opening jars for you. it makes him feel needed. its nice. except when things like this happen. if he were ever to accidentally hurt you in the process of helping you open a jar he'd be mortified. he wouldn't verbally react, he would just kind of look at you with wide eyes and an open mouth, not saying much. you'd complain at him wondering why he's just frozen in place, which would cause him to snap out of it and caress whichever part of you he had made contact with. he'd chuckle at the ridiculousness of it but still be very apologetic.

jihoon -

he wont admit to it but he loooves feeling needed. even if its for something as little as opening a measly jar. he also loves doing anything that requires strength when you're around. he's noticed the way you eye his arms. and he enjoys it. a lot. what he didnt enjoy, however, was failing at such an easy task. what he enjoyed even less was his hand slipping and landing against your nose, pulling a whimper out of you. neither of you would know how to react for a second. until jihoon started to apologize profusely, swearing to you that it was an accident and that he'd stay away from jars from now on.

seokmin -

cutie pie loves doing these silly little domestic favours for you. getting you a spoon while you're laying on the couch, too lay to get one? he's on his way! handing you a bowl from a cupboard you cant reach? you dont even have to ask! opening a jar for you? he's your guy! well, maybe not always. like today, when he'd angled himself wrong while opening you a jar of pickles, causing his elbow to hit against your chest. the impact alarmed seokmin immediately, causing him to stop what he was doing and coddle you, apologizing with all his might as he rubbed and blew at the area as if he'd caused any real damage.

mingyu -

he's been on jar-opening duty since he was a trainee. this isnt new to him. you dont even need to ask. the moment he sees you in possession of a jar, he's nonchalantly taking it from your hands and opening it without a word. the one time his distracted manner backfired had been today. he'd grabbed it from your arms, attempting to open it without realizing it was humid due to having been recently taken out from the freezer. his hand immediately slipped and landed against your eye, causing you to yelp. mingyu, being mingyu, would dramatically drop everything (literally would drop the damn jar, which was luckily made of plastic and not glass ..) and tend to you, acting as if he'd accidentally sliced your face open. he'd need convincing to calm down.

minghao -

it was a simple task, but he enjoyed the domesticity of it. he liked how you would seek him out specifically. what was he here for, if not to help his loved one out with these types of little things around the house? he'd chuckle a bit at your sheepish way of asking, fearing you were bothering him by interrupting whatever he was doing just to open a measly jar. but he wouldnt mind, proceeding to attempt at opening it. it usually would end here, except this time. as soon as he felt his hand make contact with your cheek, he'd stop dead on his tracks, embarrassed at having hurt you. he'd coo over you and rub your cheek as he apologized, claiming this was a one time thing and he'd be more careful next time.

seungkwan -

living with jeonghan, he's used to opening the jars on his own. believe it or not, seungkwan is actually very strong! so he would always insist in opening jars and such for you around the house. you didnt even have to ask, he'd do it on his own, wanting to show you what a good boyfriend he made. but well, kwan wasnt that strong after all, as he'd struggle with jars himself sometimes. but being the stubborn boy he is, he'd still insist, even after accidentally wacking you across the forehead with his hand after it slipped from the lid. being the dramatic boy he is, he'd curse the jar before coddling you endlessly and cooing at any pain he may have caused.

vernon -

he'd help you out with random household necessities very nonchalantly. he's not much a homemaker, leading you to take care of most things around your home. it was fine, though, because he would help you out whenever you asked. you wouldnt even really have to tell him what you needed, as he'd know from habit. if you neared him with a jar in hand, he'd already know to put his phone down for a moment and open it for you. if he struggled with it, he'd put a bit more attention and effort to it, but that would only lead to his hand slipping from the lid. without realizing, his hand would land on your nose, making you yelp a bit. he wouldnt go crazy with the apologies, but would feel a little flustered and say something along the lines of 'shit. sorry, babe' and offer a hug as an apology.

chan -

you asking him help to open up a jar would make him feel dependable. being the youngest in his group, he tended to feel like he depended on others a lot rather than the other way around. you were a nice change of pace. if the jar was too tight for him to open, he'd grow a little sheepish, his ears maybe turning a little red. whats with this jar?! but no jar could beat the prowess of lee chan. he wasnt about to let a measly jar embarrass him in front of his s/o. but what he would let happen, apparently, was for his hand to slip and land swiftly against your chin. in this situation, he'd immediately drop the jar and baby you as he coo'd at your reddened chin, scolding himself for being so careless.

[sunraies]

hey, absolutely love your work. it’s so mf good🫶

can I request a fic where rafe is absolutely obsessed with kook reader. Like he wants to go everywhere with them and is protective of them. To the point if one of his friends even mentions her he gets mad.

Thank you x

Thank you so much, honey! I hope this is ok. I kind of followed it on from Tear-stained Cheeks. I was thinking of doing more with Bug x

Bug

Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader

Warnings- reader nicknamed Bug, heated kiss (not really smut but a make out moment), fluff

How the nickname Bug came to be and how Rafe wants you to be his. Little does he know you feel the same.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

It was hard for him to get you out of his head. His younger sister's annoying best friend. Expect you weren't annoying in the bratty kind of way. No, you were unbelievably kind, and that annoyed him.

At first it was because of your kindness but then over time it became annoyance at how people teached you because of it.

Rafe first experienced your kindness when you had been playing with Sarah in the garden. You spent most of your days at Tannyhill.

While you and Sarah were happily playing on the grass, looking at bugs and giggling. Rafe was sitting in a tree, having climbed it out of boredom. Topper and Kelce were both busy, leaving him to spend the summer day alone.

"Buzz off," He yelled at a bee that kept buzzing around him before swotting at it and grunting in frustration.

"Rafe," you called up to him after running over to find out what he was yelling at. "If you leave it alone, it won't hurt you!"

"It won't leave me alone!" He yelled and continued hitting at it. "I'm gonna squish it! Die!"

"No!" You yelled up to him, but it was too late.

He squished the little bee against the tree branch, but in return, it strung his hand. Crying out in pain, he lost his balance in the tree and came tumbling to the ground. You were immediately at his side, telling him not to move before running inside, calling for Mr Cameron or Rose.

Later that evening, Rafe returned from the hospital with Rose. His left arm was in a cast and a sad look on his face. You found out from Sarah that Ward had scolded him for being in the tree.

"Here," you said softly, holding out a glass of lemonade to him as he sat on the patio.

"Go away, Bug." He scowled at you, but you sat beside him with your own glass.

"You can call me that." You hummed, "If it makes you feel better."

"Bug, Bug, Bug!" He snapped at you.

When you didn't respond or get upset like he wanted you to. He actually smiled. It was small, but he smiled. "Thanks, Bug."

The nickname Bug just stuck after that. So much so that even people in your friend circles were calling you it. Over the years, no one really knew where in came, and you didn't mind.

After catching you crying over, a fight with Sarah. Rafe vowed to himself to make sure you were happy. His sunshine girl was not allowed to be sad. Not on his watch. So that day after ice cream, he became a little obsessed over he odd fuzzing feeling in his heart you gave him. He didn't want to lose that.

He took you to the beach, the main land, for lunches and dinners. To the arcade or the movies. Anywhere you wished to go, he followed.

Kelce let out a low whistle as he looked over at the doorway. They were sat on the patio of Topper's back garden. With his parents away, it was the Kook party scence for the night.

"Damn, Bug looks fine tonight." His eyes watched as you entered the garden, and Rafe's did the same.

"Shut up," He grumbled at Kelce. He was right, but Rafe hated him talking about you in that way.

"What, man? She's single again." Kelce shrugged, "I can admire beauty."

"I said, shut the fuck up" Rafe warned, leaning forward in his seat, ready to lunge at Kelce if he said another word about you.

That's another problem he'd been having lately, ever since you had broken up with your ex. He felt like he was fighting off vultures left and right. Anytime someone mentioned you, even his closet friends, his anger wanted to bury them six feet under so they couldn't be anywhere near you.

"Yo, Bug!" Topper called out, earning a glare from Rafe. "Come join us"

You flashed him a grateful smile as although you knew pretty much everyone there. You felt a little alone. You normally had your boyfriend, now your ex or Sarah, but after your fight a few weeks ago. She had been spending more and more time with the Pogues. Leaving you to navigate Kook party life by yourself.

"Hi" You stood beside Rafe's chair, holding a solo cup, Top handed you as you joined them.

"Hi." Rafe smiled up at you.

"We were just talking about crushes, Bug." Topper smirked

"Oh, really? Let me go grab another chair." You handed Rafe, your cup, before looking around the garden for one.

Just as you were about to walk away, you felt a gentle tug on your wrist before stumbling into Rafe's lap.

"You can sit here." He smiled at you. "I got you, Bug."

You raised an eyebrow at him before nodding and getting comfortable as Rafe wrapped his arms around you.

"So who's is who's, then?" You asked, sipping your drink.

Topper said a girl named Elena, but you all know he was still in love with Sarah. Kelce said Rosemary, not daring to say you as you were sitting in Rafe's lap. Making it perfectly clear, he wanted you to his friends.

"Well, um," you looked down into your drink. "He's tall, handsome as hell." You described yours making them frown.

"We gave you names!" Kelce protested "that could be a number of people. I'm tall!"

You laughed but felt Rafe tense underneath you. You glanced over your shoulder at him. "What about you? You've been awful quite"

You didn't want to know the answer, but you did at the same time. The time you had been spending together recently had been wonderful, and you just wanted him to be yours but didn't want to ruin whatever friendship you had going.

"No one in particular," Rafe shrugged "Anyway we sound like a bunch of pussys. Enough with the girl talk"

A few laughs, drinks, and smokes later, you were leaning back into Rafe more. Wiggling a little as you laughed at something Topper said.

"Stop." He groaned, stilling your hips

"Wh. What?" You glanced back at him before you felt it. The bulge in his shorts. You gave him a wicked smirk. "Oh, this?" You moved more, gaining another groan before he pulled you closer. Pining you to his chest.

"Stop that," He whispered. "god, baby, you feel what you do to me"

Your cheeks burned a little, but you nodded. "You know, you know it's you. Right?"

"What's me?" He frowned

"Tall and handsome as hell," you whispered before gasping as he kissed your shoulder

"It's you too, Bug," He whispered against your skin. "It's always been you, baby"

His nose brushed against your as you turned your head to face him. His ring finger cupping you jaw. His lips brushed yours gently before you crushed yours against his. You only broke the kiss for a second to move. You straddled his lap as his hands cupped your thighs.

It was a hot, messy kiss, and you tried not to moan as you felt him grow beneath you. Your hands tangled in his hair. No caring who was watching. They would soon learn, you were Rafe Cameron's, and he was yours.

[sunflowerskies00]

meet the family, sorta

in which y'n's brothers walk in on her and her boyfriend

youngerhughessister!reader x rutger mcgroarty

requested

word count: 1.7k

I loved the lake house. I loved Quinn and Jack even more for buying the lake house. The thought of going to the lake house is what got me through the school year, that and getting to see my brothers again.

I had decided to go to U Mich for college, meaning I was nowhere near any of my brothers during the school year, it was a bummer but getting to spend the entire summer with them sort of made up for it.

However, this year was slightly different. I had started dating Rutger, one of the U Mich hockey players, in the fall. That was 8 months ago. Had I told my brothers? No. I had kept it a secret, and the few things that had been posted on social media had been faceless. My brothers obviously bugged me about who it was and asked when they'd get to meet him. Unbeknownst to them, Luke had already met him and knew him decently well. He just hadn't been my boyfriend when they were teammates. Luke didn't even know I still talked to some of his teammates. They really didn't know that I was bringing said teammate with me to the lake house.

When they had asked if they would finally get to meet the guy this summer, I told them sure, if I could bring him to the lake house with me. They said yes, but then informed me if he was a douchebag they were telling him to get out. A part of me was convinced Luke was going to be telling him to get out anyway.

"Hey," Rutger's voice pulls me out of my thoughts and I glance over at him from the passenger seat.

"Huh?" I ask, missing if he had said anything to me before the word hey.

"We're here," he pulls into the driveway. Normally, I'm at the house as soon as my last class is done, which means that sometimes my brothers were still in the playoffs if their teams had made it. This year, however, I went with Rut to Nebraska for a couple of weeks when classes got out, which meant that my brothers were all done with their seasons and were all already here. Wanting to make sure we had at least a little bit to settle in before chaos ensued, I stalked my brothers' locations, which I forced them to share with me, to make sure we'd get to the house when they were all out at the gym.

I unbuckle my seatbelt and bolt out of the car, grabbing my bag from the backseat. I kept most of my summer clothing here, considering this was basically the only place I ever was during the summer, but there had been a couple of things I had brought with me to Nebraska. I lead Rut through the house and upstairs and to the bedroom I had claimed as mine when my brothers had bought the house.

"Well, if this doesn't scream y/n," he steps into my room, looking around at the decor. It was decorated almost the exact same as my bedroom at college. "Did you just buy two of everything when you were decorating?" he teases. He leaves his bag by my door and flops backward onto the bed.

"I might have done that, it's not impossible," I smile in response, letting myself fall onto the bed next to him. He yawns and lets his eyes fall closed. "No way, I just spent for too much time in Nebraska and there is a giant lake out there calling my name," I say, springing off the bed and going straight to my drawer of swimsuits.

"I want to nap," Rutger mutters.

"You can nap on the beach or on a floating thing in the lake, or on the boat," I go to his bag and it takes me all of three seconds to find his swim trunks and chuck them at him before going to change into the swimsuit I had grabbed. By the time I walked back into my room, Rut had gotten off my bed and changed into the swim trunks. "Let's go," I grin at him. I stop and grab beach towels on my way out, Rutger falling closely behind.

"What are the odds Luke will be pissed?" he asks me as I make myself comfy out on the dock.

"I don't think he'll be pissed," I say truthfully. "He might be a little agitated, but I really don't think he'll be that pissed."

"And any reason you didn't tell them we were dating sooner?" he asks.

"Because they're annoying and overbearing, and I like living in my brother-less bubble sometimes," I answer him. "Wait, are you mad I didn't say anything sooner?" I ask, sitting straight up from where I'm lying to look at him.

"No, I'm not mad," he laughs. "I was just curious, I thought maybe you were just trying to piss them off," he shrugs.

"Well, that is super fun, this time I was not purposefully trying to make them mad," I lay back down. I'm about to open my book and start reading when Rutger is suddenly picking me up off the dock, making my drop my book to the side. "Rutger McGroarty, do not drop me into the water," I warn.

"But you were all I need the lake now," he teases before plunging himself plus me into the water. I pop back up, fake glaring at him. "You looked hot," he shrugs, a smile playing on his lips. I roll my eyes at him before splashing him. He shakes his hair at me before tackling me backward into the water. I resurface, ready to tackle Rutger back into the water, but my attempts fail miserably. He's a solid 7 inches taller than me, and a whole lot stronger, so when I go to tackle him he just grabs me and hauls me up out of the water. I narrow my eyes at him as my legs wrap around his waist.

"You're not very good at this game," he grins.

"You have an unfair advantage," I point out, a smile making its way onto my face.

"That sounds like something a sore loser would say," he teases. I just shake my head at him, situating my arms around his shoulders, to help keep myself up. Not that he needed any help, he didn't seem to be putting any effort into holding me out of the water. I lean forward and press my lips against his, pulling myself closer to him, not that it's really possible when I'm already pressed up against him. At that moment I completely forget that there are neighbors who could be watching us, and I definitely forget that my brothers could come home at any time and witness this because that's exactly what happens.

I have my legs wrapped around Rut's waist, one arm around his shoulders, the other hand is pressed to his chest, and my lips are on his when a throat clears.

"This is absolutely disgusting, and I need to bleach my eyeballs," it's Quinn's voice that says it. I pull away from Rutger in a hurry, unwrapping my legs from his waist and dropping them back into the water, whipping around to face my brothers.

"Well this is awkward," I mutter under my breath.

"You gonna introduce us?" Jack looks incredibly amused, and they all know damn well who the man I was making out with is.

"You're dating Rutger?" Luke speaks before I can say anything to Jack's statement. He stares at me, his jaw might as well be hitting the ground, he looks that shocked.

"Um, yeah," I make my way out of the water, and towards land where they're all standing. Rutger following close behind me.

"And you didn't tell me because?" he trails off on the last word. Jack and Quinn stand there quietly. This has turned into a y/n and Luke conversation only apparently.

"Luke, I love you, but you guys can get so incredibly over-bearing and stick your nose into places it doesn't belong and it can get really annoying, and sometimes I want to be able to do things without having to listen to any of your guys' opinions," I look at Jack and Quinn too when I say it, because they love to stick their nose into my business. "So I just decided that I wouldn't say anything until I absolutely had to," I explain.

"Wait, do mom and dad know?" That's what he chooses to respond with.

"Yeah, I told them a while ago, I asked them not to say anything to any of you," I rub one hand up and down my other arm, not really knowing what else to say and feeling like I put myself in a terribly awkward position.

"Okay," he nods.

"Okay as in you're not mad?" My voice sounds hopeful. Out of all my brothers, Luke and I were the closest, and as much as I liked pissing them off and annoying them, I absolutely hated when he was mad at me. I felt like a sad, kicked puppy when he'd get mad and there would be nothing I could do to fix it right away.

"Nah, if you're happy, then you're right, it's not my place to say anything or be mad," he shrugs his shoulders. He turns to face Rut now. "But, if you do happen to hurt her, she's still my little sister and I don't care if we're friends, I'll kick your ass," he addresses Rut.

"I would expect nothing less," Rut nods at Luke's words.

"Lovely, now that we're done with that little powwow thing," Jack says, and I roll my eyes at him. "We're taking the boat out, are you guys coming?" he asks. I nod in response and follow my brothers out, pulling Rutger along behind me.

"Oh, and I'm begging please don't make out in front of me. I think I've been scarred for life," Luke says as we make our way out onto the lake.

~~~~~~~~~

Sunflowerskies Masterlist

[lace-coffin]

Hay, Sugar ~ ✨

Sorry if I bother you but, do you mind if I give you my rq about Billy lenz and Brams heelshire with mommy kink.Fem s/o look at them like babies because every time they do that~ they love sucking on her tits.

Sorry to bother you and thank you ❤️

Slashers with a mommy kink x fem!reader (Nsfw)

Warning for mommy kink, focus on nipple and breast play, humiliation/degradation

Requests are closed (for now!)

You’re no bother at all!! As a lesbian I’m always happy to write or read a mommy kink ; )

Brahms Heelshire

It was really only a matter of time with Brahms, any time spent together curled up on the sofa ended with him suckling on your tits sooner or later.

The first time it happened you hadn’t known what to think. Both of you had settled onto the sofa for the night, throwing on a movie you’d inevitably loose interest in and slumping over eachother. It had been a hard day for the both of you, you heading to the village for home supplies and additional items that weren’t exactly Malcom’s job to bring, and Brahms staying at home trying not to loose his mind whilst you were gone.

Brahms was getting better at keeping his cool when you had to leave, you’d been working on it together, even convincing him to see a therapist on the grounds that it was over the phone and you were present to help him verbalise his thoughts. However healing is an upwards fight and it takes time, so despite making progress the notion of you leaving for long periods of time is still distressing to him.

Needless to say Brahms was a cuddle bug when you returned, meeting you at the door like a lost puppy after padding back and forth past the window waiting for you 20 minutes prior. You had already accounted for this, you knew he’d need some extra love when you returned, picking up some snacks as a treat for him whilst you were shopping. After placating him with soft kisses to his mask and finally detaching him from your waist you convince him to watch a movie.

Not even 15 minutes into the movie Brahms is getting handsy with you, large hands pawing at the hem of your shirt, fingers wiggling under to press against your warm skin. You pretend not to notice and he doesn’t go any further than that for another 20 or so. You know he can’t help himself.

Calloused hands slip under your bra and you let out a groan, biting your lip and finally paying full attention to the man next to you. “You miss me that much baby?” You murmur, scooting closer and speeding things up by pulling your shirt and bra over your head. Even behind the mask you can tell your partner is blushing, tips of his ears a soft pink. Brahms doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of seeing you topless.

You sigh contently as he fully cups your breasts, fitting perfectly in his hands, a squeak of surprise escapes your mouth as a finger glides over your nipple, pinching and pulling, working you up just right. An idea crosses your mind, despite not having brought it up before you know Brahms is game to most things if they involve getting to touch you.

“Brahms?” He slowly looks away from what he was doing and meets your eyes, tilting his head in question. “You wanna try something new?” He visibly perks up at this. “I need to take your mask off for it though, is that ok with you honey?” “Take it off for me?” He asks back. You nod and gently pull it away from his face, setting it on the side table. “There’s my pretty boy” you coo, running your fingers across the puckered burn scars.

A beat passes and you work up the courage to ask. “Do you want to suck on mommy’s tits baby?” An almost pained noise of arousal slips from his mouth, you don’t even get another word out before he’s latching onto your chest, hot tongue laving over your hardened nipple, the other being given attention with his free hand.

“Fuck..just like that, my perfect boy” Brahms whines around your breast in his mouth, hips bucking at the praise. Swapping to the opposite breast he switches to kneading your tits in his other hand. You can already see he’s hard and leaking in his boxers. So cute. You’re equally as needy from all the attention to your sensitive tits, but unwilling to let it end this early in favour of getting off, he looks so lost in it, worshiping your body like a god.

Billy Lenz

Billy isn’t shy when it comes to his sexual wants and needs and with the way his childhood played out it’s no surprise he has a mommy kink, he didn’t stand a chance let’s be honest. Luckily you’re more than eager to indulge him in this, loving the power exchange and the confidence it fills you with, seeing your partner pathetic on his knees, cock needy and wet for you.

Crossing your legs you sit on a deep green velvety chair, bought just for this purpose. It’s ornate and exemplifies your expensive and untouchable aura in this setting. Below you sits Billy, in nothing but his boxers. There’s something thrilling about you being fully dressed whilst he’s stripped at your feet.

Billy isn’t hard to please, letting him rut his leaky cock against your leg as you spit filthy words at him is enough to get him off if you’d be kind enough to allow it. You drop your gaze to him, sickly sweet look on your face, patronising. “Are you close you little freak? Almost cumming in your pants from rutting against me like a dog in heat? That’s disgusting.”

Billy grunts in agreement, words going straight to his cock. You hum, raising your foot to press into the base of his cock, making him squirm. “Use your words, slut.” He pants again, pushing his face into your calf and whining. “Y-yes mommy, I’m disgusting, pathetic..fuck. Gonna cum please-“ you cut him off before he can finish his plead.

“Quiet, come up here and help mommy out and maybe I’ll think about it” you snap back, unbuttoning your shirt and removing your bra, revealing your chest to him and revelling in the way he eyes it hungrily. Billy wastes no time in pulling himself up shakily, plopping down on your lap and attaching himself to your nipple. You let out a gasp of surprise and groan, slipping your hands into his curly chestnut hair and guiding him.

It’s wet and sloppy, saliva cooling slowly on your skin. His tongue is eager and making sure to switch between both nipples. Popping off he gives you a bit of respite, sucking red marks into the meat of your tits that he knows will bruise beautifully tomorrow. “Mmm there we go, that’s what you’re good for isn’t it? Just a slutty little mouth for me?” Billy moans in reply. It’s like he’s in a trance, lost to the sensation and taste of your skin under his teeth and tongue, eyes glazed over and unfocused, only interested in pleasing you and taking as much of you as he can into his enthusiastic mouth.

You could watch him forever, he almost seems content if it wasn’t for the obvious hardness pressing against your thigh, you’ll reward him well for this, after you’ve had your fun that is, you aren’t ready to let him go just yet.

[shikai-the-storyteller]

I've been thinking a lot about Leonarda's not-death ever since it happened back in April.

("What death?" you might ask, to which I say: "EXACTLY!")

Back in mid-April, Vegetta and Leonarda were mining together in a one-block wide tunnel. A mob (a Petriman) got between the two of them, and Vegetta told Leonarda to step back while he took care of it. At this point, they'd spent enough time together that he trusted Leo to listen to him.

Instead, she was killed by the same sweeping edge bug that killed her siblings.

-

Vegetta's reaction here is what's really interesting to me. Unlike most other parents on the Island, there are no shouts or tears – only a very brief "Hmm" and then silence. He very quietly takes stock of the situation, saying "Vegetta, no" and wondering aloud why Leo didn't defend herself. In chat, Foolish says "It was a bug, right? LAG" to which Vegetta slowly responds "Yes, lag. Bug." (Despite this, Foolish still asks "WHAT HAPPENED" in chat, though Vegetta doesn't reply).

Instead, he creates a slightly wider space in the tunnel where Leo's body is. He continues quietly taking stock of the situation, wondering why Leo didn't defend herself (which is what necessitated his intervention). She'd been lagging a lot that day, and he figures that must be the cause, and eventually when Leo re-appears out of thin air in the middle of the cave and collects her stuff, she confirms that the lag got to her and that's why she didn't fight the mob.

Now here's where things get interesting:

Vegetta checks the tab list. Online, it's just him, Leonarda, Roier, and Foolish. He quietly tells Leonarda "The body has already disappeared, and without a body, there is no crime. Nothing is happening. Did you die?" Leo shakes her head, and Vegetta shakes his head too, and in the kind voice he uses sometimes with Leo, he says: "I believe you have not died. Where is the body? It isn't anywhere, no mija. If it was a mistake, it was a mistake."

Leo says: "I saw Diosito (God) pa, and I was scared. God, what am I doing here?" and Vegetta laughs, telling her it's alright. Leo says "No pasa nada (don't worry / nothing happened)" and Vegetta says: "And the people who are watching us have not seen it either." To Foolish and Roier, he messages: "Secreto."

And the funniest thing about this is it worked.

Not a single person spoke about it. I saw this entire event go down live and I didn't see a WHISPER of what transpired among fans. I can't even remember if the QSMP official accounts talked about it (they sure didn't mention it in Vegetta's recap of the day). We could discuss this in meta terms of course– Leo was having known lag issues that day, Vegetta's beloved by the admins so of course they're willing to turn a blind eye rather than slap a "?" over Leonarda's life on the Eggstatistics, but meta talk isn't what I'm interested in here.

I'm interested in q!Vegetta, the weird "god-adjacent" aura he's got, and the way the universe bends to his will.

Before he took a break from the server, Rubius seemed to be a caretaker for the Eggs who died (for example, he was present when Maxo, Quackity, and Mariana & Slime said their final goodbyes to Trumpet, Tilin, and JuanaFlippa). Because of his role as an "angel" and some of his dialogue during the early days of the server, it's not a stretch to say he probably came to collect any Egg who lost a life. I can imagine he did the same when he saw Leonarda die – that is, until Vegetta said "And the people who are watching us have not seen it either." Realistically, we know Vegetta was saying this to Chat (and possibly the admins as well), but again, we're looking at this from an "in-universe" perspective.

I wonder if Vegetta was aware of Rubius' role, and this was his way of telling Rubius "No. I won't allow that to happen." We know Rubius has a soft-spot for Vegetta (and we also know that Rubius was cast out of heaven several months later) so it makes me wonder if these two instances are connected.

Either way, this isn't the first time the laws of the QSMP universe have bent for Vegetta, and I certainly don't think it'll be the last.

Rubius or no, Leo didn't die that day.

Vegetta made sure of it.

[minkyungseokie]

Bali Meet-Cute | Logan Sargeant

synopsis; when vacationing in Bali, y/n accidentally meets a cute American F1 driver after he photobombs her picture

warnings; none

note; not requested

note2; I saw someone say they wanted this, I wanted this, everyone wanted this. I kind of rushed this, but I thought it was still cute

Autosports Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Logan Masterlist

I do not give anyone permission to change, copy, or put my work on any other platform. It will only be on top, so if you see it, please report it. Or let me know.

Y/n hopped out of the bed of the room in the resort she had rented for the trip. She had finally saved up enough money to go to Bali and wanted to make it worth all of the time she had spent at her terrible 9 to 5-job. She'd be staying for a month and so far, for the two days she’d been there, she's been doing nothing but sleeping. After doing so much work for more than a year, she was too tired to actually go out and do anything for the first two days.

Y/n didn't know much of what there was to do in Bali, but she knew that by the end of the day, she wanted to visit the Leke Leke waterfall. She had heard from a friend of hers who had visited Bali that the Leke Leke waterfall was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen and that Y/n absolutely had to visit if she ever went herself. And now she was here, she didn't know what to do.

"Shit, I woke up so late." Y/n groaned, picking up her phone and grimacing at how late she had slept in. Even if she had known what she was going to do, she wouldn't be able to do much of it because she had woken up so late in the day. It was around lunch time or a bit after what was considered lunch time. "I guess I should just go to the waterfall." Y/n mumbled, grabbing a tot bag out of her suitcase and packing up some bug spray, sunscreen, her camera, and a towel. Before grabbing her bathing suit, putting it on, and putting on shorts and a t-shirt on over the bathing suit.

Y/n quickly got into the rented car and drove off with guiding off her GPS because she had the same sense of direction as a blind dog.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“You have arrived at your destination on the right.” The GPS said. Y/n parked and got out of the car, taking a deep breath and smiling as she felt some of the tension she was still carrying from the long plane ride to Bali, exit her body, leaving only the feelings of bliss and tranquility. “This is going to be a fun day.” Y/n muttered excitedly as she pulled her camera out of her bag and pointed it towards the waterfall and its lush forest.

Click!

Y/n didn’t see or realize there was another person there, too transfixed on the ethereal beauty of nature that was in front of her. It was no wonder Leke Leke was a huge tourist attraction, it made the most perfect candidate for taking photos and it was perfect to put on Instagram. Y/n looked at her photos with a smile that began to fade.

Now who the fuck was that guy?

Logan sighed. This is really what he needed after such a shit weekend. He knew that it was a decision that was made with the team's best interest in mind, but it didn't do anything but shatter his confidence that he had worked so hard during the winter break to build up. Logan was well aware that his rookie season was absolute shit, which is why he worked so hard during the break. He wanted to prove to himself, the team, his fans, and his haters that he could do it. That he could be better than what he did during his rookie season, but the start of this season proved to be nothing but stress and a mess. 

They both had to stop during their first race due to car problems, the next two races had no issues that Logan could think of, and then Alex wrecks his chassis, so Logan is forced to give up his own. The Florida resident shook his head as he ran a hand through his hair. He came here to relax, not to stress himself out more. He needed to stop thinking about what could've been if James actually trusted him enough to drive. He knew that they most likely wouldn't be getting points, but at least Logan would have more experience under his belt.

Didn't James say he didn't even really care about 2024 and 2025? Didn't he say he was focused on the new changes coming 2026 or something? SO why did the man feel the need to bench him if he didn't care so much. "That's enough, Logan." The blonde muttered, lightly slapping his cheeks, "You're here for a break. Not to destroy yourself anymore than you already have." He huffed and looked up at the waterfall.

Oh, what he would give to be like the Leke Leke waterfall. Untouched, unjudged, and unburdened by anyone or anything. Living in perfect harmony with the plants and animals that it shares a habitat with. He wishes it could be like this in F1. There was no drama, everyone got along, and the sport was made fun again like it was when he watched it on television when he was younger. But, alas, humans are flawed creatures that seem to bring destruction and ruin wherever they go. 

It was a high-intensity sport, yes, but there was so much unnecessary drama and hatred that came with the new grid and the new wave of fans. Why couldn't friendly rivalries be made where the drivers obviously aren't friends, but the fans don't fight like they hate each other(Lewis and Max fans. They seem to go to war for no reason when the drivers are at best civil with each other).

Logan shook his head again as he caught himself thinking about his job again, but this time about the hate he gets being an American in a European sport. "Now is not the time to think about this. I'll go get something to eat and come back later." Logan muttered, turning around and walking back up the little pathway that was worm by so many people trampling down the small hill to play in the pool.

He didn't realize another person was there until he heard a 'tsk' followed by, "Who the fuck is this guy? He ruined my photo."

Logan looked up and his breath caught in his throat when his eyes met the gorgeous (e/c) of a woman so beautiful, he swears she could've been a deity, "H-hey, did I, uh, did I ruin your photo?" Logan asked awkwardly as the sharp eyes of the woman before him practically bore into his soul and stripped away his layers one-by-one. 

"You did, but it's alright."

God, even her voice was heavenly. It felt like listening to a chill lofi beat with rain sound in the background. Beautiful and calming. It made him want to listen to it more as it was such a drastic change from the voices he hears everyday.

And by that, he meant the people who surround him. Not that he hears voices.

"Um, I'm sorry. If you would like, I can take a couple pictures for you." Logan offered hesitantly while the woman continued studying him, "There's something bothering you, isn't there? You look stressed." The woman observed, "Do I?" Logan awkwardly laughed as he straightened his clothing. "You do. What's your name? I'm Y/n." The girl introduced, bending down to offer him her hand.

Logan stared at her with wide eyes, unsure what to do. It seemed like she had no idea who he was and he was glad for that. It shouldn't have surprised him the way it did either. Despite having a huge fan base, Formula One isn't as well known as it should be. It really wasn't until DTS that any Americans knew what it was and they started gaining more traction as some people started watching because of how handsome all of the drivers were and stayed because they fell in love with the sport(I know I did) and there was nothing wrong with that.

Logan was brought back to reality by the woman shaking her hand in place as if telling im that she was waiting, "Are you going to shake my hand or are you going to continue staring at me with those big beautiful eyes of yours?" She asked

Y/n felt like diving off a cliff. She didn't know where she mustered up the courage to say such a thing and now she was embarrassed by the way the man was staring at her, "Shit, I didn't mean to say that out loud. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I didn't mean it. I mean, I didn't mean it, but I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Your eyes are very beautiful, just like your face. I didn't mean-- I'm just going to stop talking now." Y/n rambled, face heating up as she felt herself digging a bigger and bigger hole.

Y/n looked down in embarrassment, too scared to look up and see the possible look of disgust that the man would wear, but she was pleasantly surprised to hear the cutest laugh she had ever heard from a guy and a hand slide into her own gripping it enough to reassure her, but not squeezing it.

"Thank you so much. If it makes anything better, I think you're absolutely breathtaking as well." The man said. Y/n looked up with wide eyes.

Breathtaking. He thought she was breathtaking

Her heart fluttered in her chest as she looked into his eyes. Y/n smiled bashfully and pulled him so he was standing next to her, "Come get some lunch with me. My treat." She offered. "Oh, no thank you. I couldn't--" "You're not. I'm offering, pretty boy." Y/n intterupted, "Logan." The man said, "What?" Y/n asked, "My name. Is Logan." The man, Logan reiterated.

"Well, it's absolutely lovely to meet you, Logan. Did you drive to get here?" Y/n questioned, leading him out of the forest by his hand, "I, uh, no. I walked here, um." Logan stuttered, easily keeping up with her strides. "Well, you can ride back with me. I know this is adrupt and weird for a first meeting, but I want to get to know you better." Y/n said, looking back at him with a smile that had his heart fluttering, "You do?" Logan asked.

"Of course, I do."

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The duo found themselves sitting acros from each other in a resturant called Cafe Tahu after a short and silent car ride, "So, Logan, what's on your mind? What's got you looking so down while in one of the most beautiful nature spots in the world?" Y/n asked, tilting her head and resting it on her intertwined fingers.

Logan didn't want to burden her with his problems, but the way she was looking at him made him want to talk to her, “My job is to… drive cars and last weekend, my teammate crashed his car, putting it out of commission for the weekend. Um, usually if you crash, you're out, but…” Logan trailed off, clenching his fist.

Y/n slid her hand across the table and grabbed his clenched one until Logan had untensed his hand enough for her to intertwine their fingers, “Judging by your reaction, that’s not what happened?” Y/n asked. Logan shook his head, “No. It's not. They decided to give my teammate MY car. It's like they were rewarding him for his fuck up, but I'm not upset with him.” Logan let out.

“Well, I'm assuming it wasn’t his decision. You know what? I'm proud of you.” Y/n said, Logan looked at her in confusion, “For what?” He questioned. “For not losing your cool. For not blaming your teammate for the decision. For being so mature about it even though you could have gone ape shit. I have to say that I respect that.” Y/n said, removing her hand from his and instead holding his arm while using her other hand to prop her head up.

Logan looked deep into her eyes and nodded, “Do you want to…I don't know, have dinner with me tonight?” Logan asked breathily. Y/n tittered, “I don’t think first meetings are supposed to move this quickly, but at the same time, I've never had so much chemistry with someone I just met.” Y/n hummed, playing with Logan’s watch. “Yeah,” Logan muttered, distracted by her nimble fingers toying with his watch.

“Sure. Why not? Let's get dinner together.”

“Great. Can I have your number?” Logan asked, beaming while holding out his phone for her to take. She put in her number and handed it back, “After we finish our drinks, what do you say we go back to Leke Leke and take some better photos?” Y/n inquired.

“I’d like that.”

[cry4tzu]

Lethal love

Obsessed mina x fém!reader

Warning: killing,stalking, and her just being crazy.

A/n: this my first story so if you have any comments to either help me or something I will appreciate it

Myoui Mina had always been a quiet and reserved girl. She kept to herself most of the time, not bothering to make friends or get involved in other people's business. That was until she met Park Y/n, the love of her life. From the moment she saw her, Mina's heart was set on winning her over.

Y/n was the younger sister of Park Jihyo, who was Mina's classmate in college. Mina had noticed Y/n when she came to visit jihyo one day. She was the most beautiful girl Mina had ever seen. Her long, dark hair and piercing brown eyes had captivated Mina's heart. From that day on, Mina made it her mission to get to know Y/n and make her fall in love with her.

At first, Y/n was hesitant to talk to Mina. She found her a little strange and off-putting. But Mina was persistent. She would always find a way to be near Y/n, whether it was in class, at the cafeteria, or even outside her house. Mina would always find a reason to be there, and slowly but surely, she started to win Y/n's heart.

Their love story was like a fairytale. Mina would do anything for Y/n, and Y/n was smitten by her passion and dedication. They spent every waking moment together, and Y/n couldn't imagine her life without Mina by her side. Mina, on the other hand, was obsessed with Y/n. She couldn't bear the thought of anyone else taking her away from her. She would do anything to protect their love, even if it meant eliminating those who threatened it.

It started with little things, like Mina getting jealous when Y/n talked to other girls. She would give them cold glares and make them feel unwelcome. Y/n noticed this possessiveness in Mina, but she thought it was just her way of showing how much she loved her. But things took a dark turn when Y/n's friend, Yoo jimin also known as Karina ,confessed her feelings for Y/n.

Mina had always been wary of Karina . She felt like Karina was trying to come between her and Y/n. So when Karina confessed her love, Mina saw red. She couldn't let anyone take Y/n away from her. She followed Karina after school and waited for her in a secluded alley. When Karina walked by, Mina attacked her. Karina tried to defend herself, but Mina was relentless. She didn't stop until Karina lay motionless on the ground. Mina left Karina’s lifeless body in the alley and headed back to her dorm room, feeling satisfied that she had eliminated the threat to her love with Y/n.

But Y/n was devastated when her friend, Karina , went missing. She searched for her everywhere, but she couldn't find her. Y/n shared her concerns with Mina, who acted shocked and offered her support. Little did Y/n know that Mina was the reason behind karina's disappearance.


As the days passed, Y/n continued to notice Mina's possessiveness and strange behavior. She saw how Mina would follow her everywhere and keep tabs on her every move. Y/n started to feel suffocated and trapped in their relationship. She tried to confront Mina and talk about her concerns, but Mina would always deflect and make excuses for her actions.

One day, Y/n decided to take a break from Mina and went on a trip with her sister, Jihyo. They had a great time exploring a nearby city, but little did they know that Mina had been following them the whole time. She had bugged Y/n's phone and listened to all their conversations. She didn't like the thought of Y/n spending time with anyone else, especially her sister.

When Y/n and Jihyo returned home, Mina was waiting for them. She had a crazed look in her eyes, and she was holding a knife. Y/n was shocked and scared as Mina lunged towards her. Jihyo tried to intervene, but Mina attacked her as well. Y/n screamed for help as Mina chased her around the house, knife in hand. But no one came to her rescue.

In a desperate attempt to survive, Yn ran to her room and locked herself in. She knew Mina couldn't stand the thought of anyone else being in her and Y/n's sacred place. But Mina was relentless. She broke down the door and continued to chase Y/n. Just when Y/n thought it was all over, a group of police officers barged into the room and apprehended Mina.

It was revealed that Mina had been stalking Y/n for a long time. She was obsessed with Y/n and had killed Karina because she saw her as a threat to their relationship. Mina was taken into custody, and Y/n was left to pick up the pieces of her shattered life.

Y/n was heartbroken by the betrayal of the person she thought loved her. She couldn't believe that Mina had been stalking her and had even gone as far as taking someone's life. It took a long time for Y/n to heal from the trauma Mina had caused, but she eventually found love again with someone who cherished her and respected her boundaries. 

The incident with Mina had taught Y/n a valuable lesson about love and obsession. She realized that true love should never be controlling or violent. It should be pure and selfless, and that's what she found in the end. As for Mina, she was sentenced to life in prison, but her obsession with Y/n never faded. She spent her days in jail, dreaming of the love she could never have.

[marlynnofmany]

Friend-shaped

“She’ll want to pet it,” said a smug voice from the next room. “Humans will pet anything.”

“Even spiky things?” asked the skeptical voice that I recognized as Zhee. “I’ve never had a human want to pet me, and this thing is much worse.”

As curious as I was to see our newest cargo and judge for myself, I first had to finish setting out food for the animals in the next bay. I lugged in bags of dried pellets and fish jerky as the door slid shut behind me, cutting off the sound of Zhee insisting to the delivery person that there was no way under several suns that I would want to touch this new mystery animal. We’d see about that.

I stashed the pellets in the appropriate closet and pulled out a sheet of jerky for each of the three fangy monstrosities that twined around each other, trying to hypnotize me through the bars. I ignored the moving pattern of stripes that probably worked on prey from their world. Working quickly, I set the sheets down on the floor outside the cage, spaced as far apart as possible, then used a gravity wand to lift them through the bars without losing a finger. Left one, right, one, then the middle, to keep the beasties from all jumping on the same treat.

A chorus of happy growls and chewing noises filled the air. Success. I put away the gravity wand and reflected that I absolutely would have liked to scritch all three terrifying predators on the head, but I valued life and limb too much for that.

On to the next room! The doors opened and closed in quick succession. I passed other people loading and uploading various crates, but I only had eyes for the terrarium that looked like it was made of force fields instead of glass. Or maybe some room-temperature version of hard water, given that the person chatting with Zhee was a Waterwill. They had some pretty bizarre tech.

“Ah, here’s the human!” the Waterwill said happily, her voice burbly and vaguely female. “What do you think of your newest live cargo?” She extended what passed for an arm from her column-of-goo body. Beside her, Zhee spread purple pincher arms in a silent display of “ta-dah.”

Inside the tank I saw rocks, sand, a puddle of algae, and the ugliest little ball of snot and spikes that I had ever encountered. Protruding eyes struggled to focus on me like a wall-eyed Chihuahua that had rolled through the most unfortunate of trash piles.

“Wow,” I said, bending down for a closer look. “That’s an animal, all right.”

The Waterwill bobbed up and down. “And is it not, as you say, cutesy-wootsy?”

Zhee made various clicks and taps that were probably skepticism. I couldn’t blame him.

“Well,” I said, struggling for a tactful answer, “It sure is a little one. Looks a bit scared.”

“They always get twitchy when they’re moved around before egg-laying,” the Waterwill said with a dismissive wobble. “It’ll settle down when everybody stops walking by. It’s non-toxic. Maybe once it’s calm—”

The rest of her sentence was cut off by loud snarls from next door, carrying through the hall while both doors were open at the same time. It sounded like a brief squabble over fish jerky, no cause for alarm.

For me, anyway. The animal in the terrarium made a piercing squeak and tried to burrow under the rock, its spines growing visibly longer and flinging droplets of moisture as it trembled violently.

“Oh, that’s bad,” said the Waterwill, all cheer gone. “It could sour the eggs. Everybody be quiet! Move slowly!” She waved two armlets at the other people carrying boxes, who did as she asked.

Zhee was making a whistle that was probably a curse in his own language, or maybe someone else’s. “We’ll get blamed for egg troubles. Would dim light help? I’ll hit the controls.” He moved off on quiet bug legs.

“What else helps?” I asked. “Wait, there’s a manual for this, right?” Without waiting for a response, I unfolded a screen from my pocket and looked for the newest files. There it was. Easily searchable, too.

While I spent a moment on that, the room dimmed and quieted into a soothing nighttime. The other crewmates grabbed the remaining crates, left, and shut the door. I heard someone say to leave oncoming boxes in the hallway for the moment.

“It’s still stressed,” the Waterwill said. “We should have brought another one to soothe it!”

“Hang on, I found the sound files,” I said. “Here’s the soothing one.” At the press of a button, a brief gurgle played, then cut off. “That’s it?”

The animal turned toward me, then back to the rock. No change.

I asked the Waterwill, “I don’t suppose you can make that sound?” When she hesitated, I tried myself. Hard to do without any water around to gargle, but I managed an awkward warble in the back of my throat.

The animal’s shivering stilled.

“Keep doing that!” the Waterwill said with an urgent wave.

I did, feeling silly. But the animal liked it. The trembling ended, and the spines started to retract. When I paused for breath, the creature held perfectly still, then when I started again, the spines continued shortening. After a few moments, it was a slimy ball of green with eyes that stuck out, and soon enough those finally closed. When they opened again, they weren’t bulging any more.

A head lifted from the goo, with a cute little face that chirped curiously.

“Aw, look at you,” I said to it. “All calm and happy.”

It oozed over towards me, moving much like Waterwills did, without any legs. It nuzzled a hatch that I hadn’t noticed in the side of the tank.

“You said it’s non-toxic, right?” I asked, not waiting for a response. I’d skimmed the manual. The hatch opened easily for me to stick my hand in and stroke the slimy little head. It purred like a babbling brook.

“Told you,” said a voice behind me.

Zhee hissed.

I turned to see him handing over credits with a displeased tilt to his antennae. “Did you just lose a bet?” I laughed.

Zhee threw his pincher arms into the air. “It was covered in spikes! No fair changing shape like that.”

“Well, if we’re going to be fair,” I said. “I would have sacrificed a hairbrush to pet it through the spikes, if it liked that kind of thing.”

“Of course you would,” Zhee muttered.

“Righto,” the Waterwill said as she stuck the credits into a wallet pouch that floated among her other miscellaneous bits. “I can see it’s in good care here. Guess I’ll be off.”

I gave the creature one last stroke, then eased my hand out and closed the hatch, waiting to make sure it stayed calm. When it settled back into goo, I stood and joined the other two in soft-footing our way to the door. “I’ll keep an eye on it,” I promised.

“And a hand,” Zhee grumbled.

“I’ve petted worse,” I told him.

“I’m sure you have,” he said. “And I don’t want to hear about it.”

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character of this book. More to come!

[londonbelow]

American Honey

in which Harry is a single dad/rancher and our faceless/nameless female MC babysits for him while he goes on a date warnings: age gap (both parties are consenting adults over the age of 21), a hint of choking, unprotected sex, dirty talk, squirting, nothing too kinky... this is literal shit im sorry ily anyways

I didn’t know how I got roped into babysitting for the man I was completely in love with, but here I was, pulling into his long gravel driveway on a beautiful September day. If you asked me a few months ago how much I enjoyed children, I would have laughed in your face and told you that I didn’t enjoy them at all and that you couldn’t pay me to spend time with them. 

That was until I met Harry. 

My best friend Kelsey was his niece. She introduced me when she began to take horseback riding lessons on his ranch shortly after he moved back to town. He wanted to be closer to his family after his wife had passed away, so he packed up his life and moved back to his hometown. 

The first time I saw him, his strong body mounted on top of a large brown horse, my breath got caught in my throat and wouldn’t dislodge the entire time I watched him ride. That day, most days, he wore a ratty old t-shirt that clung to his muscles and a pair of dirty brown cowboy boots under his tight jeans. He traded off between a black cowboy hat and a backwards baseball cap, one that boasted some sports team I had no idea about. Tattoos littered his strong arms and I knew they spread across his torso as well from all the times I drooled over him as he did manual labor around his ranch. 

He had a six year old daughter named Maisy that looked just like him, one who worshipped the ground he walked on. She followed him around like a baby duckling, excitedly showing him things he couldn’t possibly care much about, but he always reacted in a way that told her he did. It was endearing, watching him smile brightly at a large spider his small daughter caught and decided to name Annabelle. He shivered and grimaced as soon as his back was turned to his child, never letting her know that her affinity for bugs grossed him out. 

He was an angel with her. So patient and kind and goofy. Watching them together made me ache for something that I didn’t know I even wanted—a family. I was far too young to be thinking that way, of course, but it didn’t stop my heart from compressing every time I watched him hoist her up onto her pony to go for a ride. 

He was all rough around the edges but a gentleman nonetheless. The first time he met me, he removed his hat and bowed his head a little and called me honey in his luxurious sounding accent. He’d been calling me by that ever since then, claiming it was because I was “sweet as”. He didn’t call anyone else that I knew at the ranch by any sort of nickname, not even the pretty brunette veterinarian who came to tend to the animals. 

He asked me if I was interested in riding lessons and I lied immediately and said yes, absolutely. I was terrified of horses, actually, but I would have done anything he asked of me, as long as I could stare at him while doing it.

He was around 20 years my senior, not that he looked it. He had little crinkles near his eyes and smile lines from years of laughter. His skin was tanned and freckled from the sun, his arm and thigh muscles bulging from all of the physical labor he did. I knew I had daddy issues, but I had never been attracted to an actual dad until Harry. 

I had spent the last two months taking riding lessons with him, keeping my crush as lowkey as I possibly could, although every time his hands brushed my hips or my leg when he was helping me on and off the horses, I felt like I could just melt. 

We grew comfortable with each other and there were times when I thought he may be flirting with me, but it never went anywhere. I started to think I was delusional, that there was no real tension between us like I thought there was. Especially when he asked me in the shyest of tones if I would babysit his daughter for him while he went on a date. 

So here I was, huffing and puffing in annoyance as I sat in the driveway of his home, angry with him for dating someone else and angry with myself for agreeing to babysit so he could. I felt like an idiot. I enjoyed hanging out with his kid because she was a little weirdo like I was at her age, but I didn’t enjoy knowing he’d be out with some lonely housewife throwing herself at him. 

I let out a loud whine as I banged my head against the steering wheel a couple of times, letting my theatrics empty from my body before I sat up straight and composed myself. 

“Get a grip, he wouldn’t touch you anyways. You’re 25 years old. He’s your best friend’s uncle. Of course he wants someone his age, you’re basically a fucking child in his eyes.” I muttered to myself as I reached over for my bag and lugged it out of the car with me. 

It was filled with things I thought Maisy might enjoy, like my black lipstick and some Halloween decorations I had packed away. The child lived for all things horror, she treated every day as if it was Halloween and nothing scared her. It was one of the reasons I completely adored her, despite never liking most children. 

I looked down at my outfit as I made my way to the front door. I didn’t know how late I’d be stuck here, so I dressed comfortably, in little black shorts and a loose crop top. Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I reached up to press the doorbell when the door flung open. 

My breath got caught again at the sight of him. His cheeks flushed red as he looked at me, a slow smile tugging on his mouth as he reached out to grab hold of my arm. 

“Hi, thank god you’re here, I need your help.” Harry tugged me into the house quickly. 

His hand on my skin sent goosebumps all over me. He pulled me with him through the corridor and the kitchen, toward his large bedroom. I felt a thrill run through me at his urgency to get me in there, but it settled as I remembered quickly that he wasn’t dragging me there to ravage me like I wanted him to. 

My eyes took him in as he pulled me behind him. He had on his usual jeans and a t-shirt, his usually unruly curls set into a more tame hairstyle. He hadn’t shaved, which I was grateful for, but he smelled fresh and clean and looked like he might be sick at any moment. 

He pulled me to where he had three different outfits laid out on his bed, gesturing to them and then looking at me helplessly. 

“Mr. Styles, I—” 

“Harry, darlin’. I told you to call me Harry.” He corrected me, his hand sliding down my arm, making my stomach flip around, “Now… which one?” 

“Where are you taking her?” I asked, reaching out to touch the fabric on one pair of pants. 

“The Lodge?” He said, sounding as if he were unsure. 

I made a face, impressed with his expensive selection but annoyed that it was going to another woman. He took my reaction the wrong way, assuming that I thought it was a bad choice for a first date. He put his head in his hands and groaned loudly. 

“It’s too much, isn’t it?” He breathed out, “I should just cancel. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m not ready for this.” 

“Woah, hold on, I didn’t say that. It’s a nice restaurant. If you really like this girl…” I trailed off, swallowing hard over the lump in my throat. I looked down at the outfits he selected and smiled at his effort. I touched the edge of one of the more casual ones, “D-do you? Really like her?” 

“Well, I… like her. I don’t know if it’s worth a ‘really’ yet.” He smirked, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Wear this one. You’ll look great.” I pointed to the outfit. 

“Yeah?” He breathed out, moving closer to me so he could reach down to touch it as well, “You think?” 

His arm brushed against mine as we stood next to one another, looking down at my selection. I felt like I couldn’t breathe every time he touched me, even if it was accidental. I reached over and squeezed his arm, feeling my stomach clench up again when I did. This man did something feral to me. I wanted to get naked and display myself for the taking. I wanted him to take and take and take. 

“She’s a lucky lady.” I loosened my grip, letting my fingers brush down the length of his arm gently. 

He turned to look down at me, so close that I could feel his breathing against my forehead. He was much taller than I was, so much so that I had to crane my head back to look up at him. I saw his eyes slide down over my frame, so quickly and discreet that I almost missed it. He averted his gaze back to the clothes on the bed, nodding. 

“Thanks, honey. I should, uh… I should finish getting ready. Don’t want to be late, do I?” He reached up and scratched the back of his head, “Maisy’s in the living room watching the Addams Family again.” 

“Of course she is.” I laughed, moving to his door, “Hey, if she tells me you said it’s okay for her to watch Halloween, she’s lying right?” 

“She’s absolutely lying.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes with a smile, “Nothing above PG-13.” 

“She’s six years old.” I stated dryly, watching him smile brighter as he reached for the bottom of his shirt. 

“Try telling that to her.” He joked, peeling his t-shirt off right in front of me. I felt saliva gather in my mouth at the sight of his tattooed torso, his muscles flexing as he moved. 

I stood there like an idiot, just staring with my lips parted, feeling as if I might start drooling any second. He looked at me, an amused expression on his face, lifting his eyebrows. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” He asked. I reached up immediately and touched my mouth, forcing my lips closed and checking for drool at the same time. 

“Yep, sorry. I’ll give you some… privacy.” I cleared my throat, feeling my cheeks heat up as I forced myself to leave his room, yanking the door shut behind me. 

I leaned against it and sighed heavily, composing myself before I went out to the living room where Maisy lounged. 

“Hey scream queen, you watching the Addams Family again?” I plopped down onto the couch, looking over at her. 

She was spitting image of Harry. Really, if I hadn’t seen photos of her late mother I would think he cloned her to look exactly like him. She had the same soft brunette curls, the same green eyes that looked blue in certain light, the same pouty pink lips and the same little accent as him. The only difference was the streak of temporary purple dye in her hair, which I put in for her a week ago. 

“Yep! When daddy leaves, do you wanna watch Halloween?” She whispered the question to me, smiling slowly like the little evil thing she was. 

“I will not be held responsible for your nightmares tonight, little one.” I reached over and brushed her hair out of her face. 

“Please, please, please.” She begged, grabbing onto my face with her tiny hands, squishing my cheeks together, “I won’t tell him, I swear! You’re my favorite babysitter ever, nobody else is as fun as you are.” 

I narrowed my eyes at her buttering me up, “You are good.” 

“I know.” She giggled loudly as I began to tickle her sides, watching her fall back against the couch cushions and squeal with delight.  

I didn’t notice Harry walk over to the living room at first. He just stood there, silently, watching me tickle his daughter with a smile on his face. I stopped when I finally noticed him, wondering how long he had been watching us. He seemed perfectly content to stay right there, his eyes steady on me and his daughter. 

He lifted his eyebrows and pushed himself off the door frame when he realized I had noticed him. 

His cheeks went slightly pink, “Alright, girls. How do I look?” 

We both watched him as he did a slow spin, showing off his outfit. I felt my heartbeat quicken at the sight of him. He looked incredible—wearing tight black slacks with a matching button-up shirt under a suit jacket. He left a lot of the buttons undone, showing off his chest where his shiny crucifix necklace was teasing me. I could have gotten down on my knees right then to pray. 

His eyes darkened slightly when they took in my reaction to him, so much so that I swore he could read the arousal I felt all over my stupid face. I swallowed hard, averting my gaze from him as my cheeks went up in flames. 

“You look nice, daddy!” Maisy said, rushing over to him and into his arms. He picked her up into his arms and gave her a toss into the air that made my heart stop for a second, but he caught her with ease and she screamed happily. 

Harry grinned at her, leaning down to rub his nose across hers, giving her their special bunny kisses. It was the cutest thing I’d ever seen. 

“You smell good, too!” She said, wiggling out of his arms and back down to the ground, “Will Miss Casey smell you tonight?” 

I almost laughed, but the reminder that Harry was going on a date with the local kindergarten teacher—a beautiful 30-something year old who was fantastic with children—made my heart drop into my stomach.

“I’m sure she will at some point.” Harry said in a bashful tone, reaching up to nervously scratch the back of his head. 

Maisy called my name, running back over to me and grabbing my hand, dragging me to her father, “Smell daddy!” 

“Uh, Maisy, I don’t think…” I started, but Harry smiled and shook his head to stop me. 

“I’d actually like to hear if you think it’s too much. I don’t wear cologne very often, only on special occasions.” He said sheepishly, “Do you mind?” 

Special occasions, like the date he was about to go on. My heart made another leap into my stomach, making me frown. 

“No, I… I don’t mind.” I said breathlessly, forcing a smile and stepping closer to him. 

I placed my hand against his shoulder even though I didn’t have to and then I leaned in close to him. I shut my eyes as I inhaled his scent, trying to force the moan down my throat. It came out as a soft “mmm” instead. 

He smelled delicious. Just the perfect amount of spicy and sweet mixed in with his natural musky scent that was so familiar to me after all the time we’d spent together. I wanted to nuzzle my face into his neck and inhale it again but instead I forced myself back from him, nodding like a crazy person. 

“She’ll love it.” I said quietly, watching his soft eyes follow me as I stepped backwards, my hand reaching out to take Maisy’s, trying to anchor myself back down to earth. She squeezed my hand tightly once before letting it go and running back to her movie. 

“K, bye daddy!” She called out, once again glued to the TV screen as Wednesday Addams tortured her brother for fun. 

I walked Harry to the door, my eyes scanning over him as much as I could before he took notice. I wanted to tell him not to go, to stay here with us instead. I wanted him to see how badly I ached for him and to take me up on the offer. I knew the idea was a complete delusion, I knew that he could never see me that way, but I couldn’t help my fantasies. 

He turned to face me at the front door, tapping his fingers gently against the edge of it as we looked at one another. There was so much staring between us, it felt like longing. He’d drape his slow gaze over me, not saying a word, making me tingle all over. 

“Okay, um, call me if you need anything. I shouldn’t be out too late. You know her bedtime routine…” He trailed off, patting his pockets to ensure he had his phone and his wallet, “Are you… are you sure I shouldn’t cancel? Stay here with you and Maze and watch Halloween movies instead?” 

Yes. Cancel. Forget her and stay with me, please. Please. My throat felt like it was closing up at my thoughts, too scared to say them out loud. I shook my head to him, forcing a smile.

“You need to go. Put yourself out there. You deserve to be happy, Harry.” I said to him, reaching up and patting his shoulder. I let my hand linger there for a long moment, just rubbing him in what I hoped was a comforting manner and not creepy. 

He reached up and put his hand on top of my own, squeezing it gently as he looked at me in a way that I hadn’t seen before. I felt like I couldn’t breathe as he pulled my hand from his shoulder, his fingers tightening around my own just for a moment before he dropped it. I clenched it into a fist, desperate to hold onto the feeling of his skin on mine. 

“You are something else, honey.” He said quietly, shaking his head slightly, “Thanks again for watching Maze, you know how much she loves you.” 

“Anytime.” I murmured, smiling, “Have fun tonight. Call if you’re going to be late, okay?” 

He smiled and nodded, taking another long moment to look me over. He flipped his car keys in his hand and let out a loud sigh before he turned away from me for good. I watched him leave, waving from the door as he backed out of the driveway, heading off to the last place I wanted him to go. 

I sighed heavily and locked the door, heading back to Maisy, who was digging through my bag greedily, giggling in delight at every new treasure she found. 

“I see you found my bag of goodies.” I said to her with a grin. 

“Are these for me?!” She squealed and I laughed, nodding as she pulled out a big stuffed bat that I picked up from Target. 

“They are, you little sneak. You could have waited for me to give them to you myself.” I laughed as I sat down behind her. 

“So…” Maisy climbed up to my lap, smiling, “Halloween?” 

I sighed and smiled, “You can’t watch that movie, Maisy.” 

“I’ve already watched it!” She whined. 

“How about Casper instead?” I suggested. 

She made a face, offended, “That wimpy ghost?” 

I laughed loudly, breathing out a sigh, “Okay, fine. But you’re covering your eyes for the bad parts.” 

Maisy rushed off my lap, clapping her hands in delight and jumping up and down next to me, “Can we have popcorn too? Can I have juice? Can I have candy?” 

“You are an absolute terror.” I grabbed her shoulders to stop her from jumping, listening to her laughter. I scooped her up and carried her to the kitchen anyway, unable to say no to her. 

“How about we make my famous brownies? That way your dad has something sweet to eat when he gets home.” I suggested to her as she climbed up onto one of the bar stools, starting to pull out all of the ingredients I needed. 

“Daddy doesn't need sweets when you’re around, on a count of you being honey and all.” She asked me, kicking her feet out over and over again as her eyes carefully watched me. 

“Oh? Is that so?” I laughed, raising my eyebrows. 

“I heard him talkin’ to Mr. Davis about it!” She nodded confidently, smiling at me at her knowledge of her fathers private conversations. 

Mr. Davis was Harry’s closest friend and one of the ranch hands. They were always shit talking and shooting the breeze whenever they had free time. I had no idea that Harry mentioned me at all to him and I couldn’t help but probe Maisy for further information. 

“And what exactly did your daddy say to Mr. Davis?” I narrowed my eyes, pulling different ingredients out of the fridge and placing them on the countertop. 

“He said that he bets you taste just like honey, sweet as can be. He told Mr. Davis that he’d love to try it some time.” She squinted, “Do you have lots of bees at your house? Can I come see them?” 

I had to force my laughter down at her misunderstanding of what her daddy meant. I felt my face heat up at the confirmation that Harry thought about me in the same way that I thought about him. I had to press my hand against my chest to try and calm my breathing before I turned to face the little girl who was talking to me. 

“I do have lots of bees, but you better watch out, because they’ll sting you!” I turned and poked at her sides, tickling them and sending her on a laughter frenzy. 

“Now, back to business. We need a mixing bowl…” 

Maisy and I spent the rest of the night baking brownies and decorating them for her father. Then she ate way too many of them and passed out from a sugar crash about five minutes into Halloween. I carried her into her bedroom and tucked her in, starting to clean up the living room and the kitchen. 

It was still early when I finished up in the kitchen and I flicked the lights off, figuring I’d settle into the dark living room to finish watching Halloween by myself. I curled up onto the couch and shut all the lights off, stretching my body out.

I couldn’t stop thinking about what Maisy told me, her little innocent mind not even realizing that Harry was talking about going down on me. I wondered if she heard him right or if I’d make a fool of myself by making a move the next time I saw him. 

I must have dozed off thinking about it, because the next thing I knew, I heard Harry’s key in the door and listened as he quietly shut it behind him. His gentle footsteps made their way into the living room and I barely opened my eyes to look at him. 

He stood by the entryway, staring at me, his eyes roaming over my body carefully. My breath got caught when I realized he was checking me out. He took his time, drinking in the outline of my body in a greedy manner. He ran a hand through his hair and started toward me, looking more and more full of want as he got closer. 

My eyes fluttered open as he pulled a blanket off the couch, intending to cover me up with it and leave me. I wasn’t ready for him to leave, I wanted to spend more time with him, so I made it known that I was up. I reached over and touched his hip, watching him pull back to look down at my face. 

“Hey…” I said sleepily, stretching my body out, a quiet moan releasing from my throat. 

Harry swallowed harshly at the sound, shifting on his feet, “Hey, sweetheart. You must have dozed off.” 

“Yeah, sorry.” I sat up slowly, once again stretching my limbs out before I stood up from the couch, “How was your date?” 

We were standing insanely close to one another, so much so that my chest nearly brushed over his own. I leaned forward so that my breasts would touch him, just barely, and he didn’t move back from me like I thought he would. 

“Horrible.” He whispered, shaking his head.

“Oh no, I’m sorry. How about I make you a drink and you can tell me all about it?” I offered him, watching him smirk at me. 

“Are you even old enough to drink?” He teased me, to which I gave him a playful shove against his chest. 

“Very funny. I’m not that young.” I said to him sternly, raising my eyebrows, “I’m old enough to do a lot of things. Things you couldn’t possibly imagine.” 

I watched his eyebrows hitch high on his forehead at that and then I smirked at him. I turned and walked out of the living room with that, knowing that he was watching me go, his eyes steady on my ass as it jiggled into the kitchen. I went to his bar, which was a locked cabinet, getting up onto the tips of my toes to try and reach the key that he kept hidden high up. 

I knew my shirt was rising up as I reached, exposing the underside of my breasts, and I swore I heard a small groan from Harry as he watched me.

“Harry? Can you help me?” I said softly, turning to look at him over my shoulder as I continued to try and reach the key. I knew I had no chance of getting it, but I also wanted him closer to me.

He obliged like I hoped he would. He came up behind me, his body pressing against mine too closely for it to be a mistake or a casual thing. He raised his arm to take the key down and I turned my head to look at him as he did this. Our faces were so close, if I moved just a few inches forward, I could kiss him. He could kiss me. I silently willed him to do it, but he didn’t. 

He just watched me, his eyes more intense than I’d ever seen them. He studied my features, moving slow as he handed me the key. Our fingers brushed lightly as he passed it to me, his hand so warm against my own. 

“Thank you.” I whispered, watching his eyes fall to my lips as they formed the words. 

He cleared his throat and backed away from me slightly, but not enough that I wouldn’t bump into him when I bent over to dig around in the liquor cabinet. 

“So tell me… what went wrong on the date?” I asked, carefully turning to bend over, my ass brushing over the front of his pants just barely when I did. 

I swore I heard him let out a gasp, but he didn’t move back from me like I thought he would. He stayed exactly where he was, hips solid as I leaned back slightly on my heels to give him a little more pressure. 

He froze in place as I did this but he didn’t pull his hips back. He did the opposite. It was subtle, but he flexed his hips forward against my body, letting me feel how hard he was for a second before he pulled back again. 

I stood up, turning to look at him with a bottle of bourbon in my hands. I eyed him, keeping my back to him as he moved in closer to me, close enough for his hips to graze over my ass again, his chest touching my shoulder blades. 

“Honestly?” He whispered, moving even closer to me, one of his hands brushing up against my hip as he did. 

“Tell me.” I replied, my voice hoarse, strained from the close contact between us, which made me feel like I was on fire. 

Harry’s eyes flickered down over my face, taking me in, and he swallowed harshly before he confessed, “Couldn’t stop thinking about you all night, honey.” 

My heart was pounding harder than ever before, going wild in my chest. Did he actually just say those words or was I hallucinating? I watched them form on his lips but it still felt unreal. I blinked at him, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth to bite down and make sure I was awake. He reached up and touched my chin, tugging my lip back out. 

He cleared his throat and shook his head, “Not bourbon.” 

His eyes were dark, narrowed down toward me as if he were angry, but I knew he wasn’t. He was turned on. Ridiculously so. I also knew that he loved bourbon, so turning it down meant that he wanted me to bend back over and pick up a different bottle. I didn’t ask him which liquor he wanted instead, I simply bent at the hips again and pushed my ass back into him as I put the bourbon bottle back. 

His hips once again made contact with my ass cheeks, his hard cock pushing up against me in a desperate manner, his fingers digging into the skin of my hip. I pretended to poke around in the cabinet, letting him keep himself pressed to me much longer than the first time. I snagged a bottle of vodka and stood up, pulling myself away from him abruptly. 

“How about this?” I asked breathlessly, licking my lips slowly as I turned my head to meet his stare once again. 

“Not that.” He shook his head, his eyes falling down to my mouth for a long moment. His voice was strained when he spoke again, “Bend back over and try again for me, sweetheart.” 

This time, I smiled slowly at him before I turned away, bending at the hips and jutting my ass out as an offering for him. He did the same thing as before��let me back up against him, let my ass press into his crotch. He was subtle in his movements the first two times, but something came unhinged for him this time. 

Maybe it was the way my loose shirt slid up and exposed my breasts when I bent that time. Maybe it was the way I reached back and grabbed onto his thigh to steady myself on the way down. He lost all sense of self-control, both of his hands now grasping roughly onto my hips and yanking me hard against him. 

A low moan released from his throat as he pulled me into him until my back was pressed against his front, burying his face in my neck. His hands clawed up my sides, hips grinding into me slowly, sensually, like he wanted me to feel all of him. 

“Fuck,” He moaned, “This is wrong… so so wrong.” 

I whined, clinging onto the edge of the counter as he continued to grind himself against me, my cunt dripping with desire for him, “Don’t stop. Please…” 

He grabbed onto both of my arms then, pulling them behind my back and holding them there, bending me over the counter so my bare breasts and my face were pressed to the cool marble. 

“I’ve wanted to do this for so fucking long.” He slid his free hand around my hips, finding the wet spot at the front of my shorts and pressing into it, “You’re soaking wet…” 

“Oh god!” I cried out when he rubbed a circle against my clit, sending a shockwave through me. 

“Shhh…” He ordered me, “Shh, baby. Be a good girl and stay quiet for me, okay? Can you do that?” 

I whimpered and nodded, willing to agree to anything if only he would touch me again. I wiggled my hips back, needing more contact from him, and he grasped onto my shorts, yanking them down to my ankles. He got onto his knees behind me and I shut my eyes with a soft moan as he palmed my thighs, prying them open so he could get a good look at my pussy. 

“Fuck, look at this pretty little cunt.” He breathed in the scent of my arousal, groaning in pleasure, “I need to taste you, honey. I need to…” 

“Please, Harry…” I gasped out just as his tongue slid up my slit slowly, lapping up all of my juices. 

He moaned again as his tongue went wild, slipping up and down my slit and licking up every drop before dipping inside of me, trying to get as much of my arousal as possible. I couldn’t believe how deeply he was tongue fucking me, the sounds of him slurping up every drop sent my eyes rolling into the back of my head. 

“More, more, give me more…” He groaned against my cunt, the vibrations sending a new flood of arousal through me that he lapped up immediately. 

I was shaking, still clinging to the countertop, my face warm now against the marble. I swore I was going to start drooling soon if he kept diving his tongue deep into me, the pleasure being nearly too much for me to handle. 

“You are everything I’ve dreamed of and more.” He murmured as pulled back, standing up to his full height so he could unbutton his pants, “You gonna take every inch of my cock, baby? You think you can handle that?” 

“Yes, yes… please…” I moaned out, nodding in hazy delusion. 

“Stay still, gonna start slow for ya, since you’re being so good for me.” He panted out, removing his cock from his pants but leaving all of his clothes on otherwise. 

I glanced down, seeing how swollen and drippy he was with precum, desperate to be touched. His cock was beautiful, it was thick and long with delicious looking veins protruding from the sides. He fisted himself carefully, dragging his hand up and down it a few times, precum squeezing out. I wanted to lick it up, wanted to taste every inch of him that I could. 

He lined his hips up behind me and positioned his cock between my slit, pressing against me. He rocked his hips back and forth carefully, letting my pussy coat him with my arousal, getting it slippery wet. The head of his cock bumped up against my clit with every thrust he made and I let out a nearly-silent cry at the teasing. 

He reached his hands around to slip them up against my breasts, his fingers pinching my nipples, making them harden at his touch. He buried his face in the back of my neck again, inhaling me, his lips trailing roughly across the sensitive skin there. 

He kissed along every inch of my neck, brushing my hair away from my skin so he could kiss more and more. He pulled me back against his body, his hand moving up over my chest and throat to grasp my chin, forcing my head to the side. I looked at him, craning my neck around as much as I could, offering him my mouth. He leaned in closer to me, our noses brushing, lips parting as we both panted heavily into each other's mouths. 

“I shouldn’t be doing this. You’re so fucking young.” He whispered, leaning his forehead against mine, still thrusting his cock up against my wet cunt but not entering me.

Both his hands went down to my hips, clinging to them tightly, his fingers digging into my skin as he tried to control himself. He was shaking as he pressed his cock against me over and over and I could see him unwinding for me.

“So then stop doing it.” I teased him, grinning wickedly. 

“Get over here.” He ordered me, pulling back so he could force me to turn around. His lips found mine right away, his tongue pressing into my mouth and flicking across mine. His large, calloused fingers took hold of my naked hips, shoving me up onto the counter and spreading my legs apart for him. 

“You want me to stop, baby?” He pulled back to whisper, his fingers slipping into my cunt, immediately stroking upward, making me feel things I’d never felt before in my life. 

“Oh fuck!” I cried out loudly, unable to keep it down. 

He slapped his hand over my mouth, keeping his face right in front of mine so I’d maintain eye contact with him. His fingers began to stroke me faster, harder, pressing into what I assumed was my g-spot. I’d never felt anything like it. My stomach rolled in the best way possible and my legs began to shake. My cunt clenched and gushed around his fingers, so wet for him that it was spreading all over my inner thighs the rougher he finger-fucked me. 

“There you go, that’s my girl… give it all to me, honey.” He murmured, tightening his fingers over my mouth when I moaned behind them, “Shh, come for me, come all over me, I want every fucking drop.” 

He began to finger me harder, faster, his fingers jerking up and down instead of in and out and I felt something explode inside of me. My orgasm hit hard, making me cry out from behind Harry’s hand, and he replaced it with his mouth, swallowing up all of my moans and curses. 

A warm liquid gushed out of my cunt and shot all over Harry’s torso as I came hard. That had never happened before. I pulled back from the kiss and looked in a panic to see his reaction, expecting him to be as confused as I was, but he looked overjoyed by it. His mouth found mine again, tongue excitedly taking control of my own. 

He kept his hand firmly inside of me, his thumb brushing through my public hair down to my clit, rubbing it in slow circles. He moaned into my mouth, his free arm going around my waist to tug me to the edge of the counter. 

“I want you to come like that all over my cock.” He murmured against my lips, kissing me desperately again as he removed his fingers from my pussy. 

He brought his wet hand up to our mouths, pulling back from kissing me so he could offer me his fingers. I sucked my arousal off of them, wiggling my hips down lower so my cunt was on full display for him. I spread my legs as far as I could, wanting him to have all of me. 

“Desperate little thing, aren’t you?” He whispered, to which I nodded, pulling off his fingers with a soft pop. 

“Been waiting for you to notice me.” I whispered back, “Took you long enough…” 

Harry sighed against my lips, shaking his head as he smiled slowly, “Crazy, crazy girl. I’ve been obsessed with you since the day I laid eyes on you.” 

“Really?” I whined out, watching him nod, licking his lips and leaning down to kiss me again. 

“Shh now, pretty. Need to be inside you so bad. Gotta be quiet for me.” He whispered, waiting for me to nod at him in confirmation before he pressed forward. 

I felt the swollen head of his cock pressing up against my cunt, begging for entrance. I rolled my head back, exposing my throat to him as he pushed slowly into me, filling me completely. My cunt stretched to accommodate his size and I gasped out at the slight sting of pain I felt as he kept pushing and pushing inside of me. His cock was big, but I had also only been with one guy before who was below average in size.

“God, fuck,” He gasped as he filled me to the hilt, holding still as he reached a hand up to brush my hair back, “You okay, angel? Hmm?” 

“S’full…” I mumbled, my mouth finding his, kissing him deliriously, “Feels so good… need more.” 

“Yeah? You want more? You wanna feel me so deep inside of you, stretching you out?” He murmured against my mouth, tongue slipping out to tease along my upper lip. I gasped when he pulled back, rolling his hips forward into me hard, “I know it feels so fuckin’ good. Look how you take my cock like the perfect fuck toy you are.” 

He grabbed onto my face, squeezing it as he made me look down between our bodies at the way his cock slid in and out of me, shiny with my arousal. We looked back up at each other in unison and I slid my arms over his shoulders, fisting a hand into his hair. I pulled his mouth back to mine and kissed him deeply, only pulling back to gasp for air or moan his name. 

“Made for me, you’re fuckin’ made for me…” He whispered against my lips as he thrust deeper and deeper into me. When he wasn’t kissing me, he’d slide his large hand over my mouth to keep me quiet. 

“This is mine now.” He ordered me as he slipped his hand between our bodies, fingers finding my clit so he could rub quick circles against it, “Tell me, tell me your pussy belongs to me now.” 

I moaned at his hushed tones, at the strain in his voice as he tried desperately to keep his voice down so we didn’t wake his daughter. He laid kisses down my jaw and to my neck, sucking at the spot right by my ear that sent goosebumps all over my skin. 

“It’s yours, I’m yours. Fuck, don’t stop.” I gasped out, clinging to him harder, digging my nails into his back, “You feel so good, I’m gonna… fuck!” 

He began to pound into me, fingers gripping my thighs so tight that I knew I’d have bruises there the next day. I didn’t care. I wanted him to mark me all over, to claim me as his own, to leave me with reminders of what we did in this dark kitchen. 

Harry grabbed my face in  one hand, squeezing my cheeks hard as my lips fell open in ecstasy. He slid his tongue against my own, coaxing it out, licking across every crevice of my mouth in a sloppy manner. I felt consumed by him in every sense of the word, felt completely claimed in a way I hadn’t expected to feel. I knew I’d never get over this, never be able to go back to fucking guys my own age after experiencing him. 

“Good girl… wanna feel your cunt squeezing me, milking every drop outta me. That’s it, baby. You feel like heaven, oh god.” He gasped, his lips brushing mine with every word, “So fuckin’ hungry for my cock…” 

“Harry… Harry, Harry, Harry…” I moaned out as he reached down to grasp the back of my thighs, shoving my legs up until my knees pressed into my torso, bending me in ways that I knew would leave me sore. 

His eyes fell down to watch his cock pound into me, his breath quickening at the sight, “So fucking wet, baby… god. I’m gonna come, do I need to pull out?” 

I shook my head wildly, whimpering at the intense feeling building up in my abdomen, “On the p-pill. Fuck, Harry! Need you to fill me up. Please, please, come inside me.” 

My legs went over his shoulders as he grabbed me by the throat, applying the slightest of pressure as he tugged my mouth to his own, kissing me deeply. 

He stopped kissing me and I let my eyes flutter open, finding his dark green ones staring back at me. He looked so intense, so full of desire, it made me shiver all over. 

“Look at me, sweet girl. God, you’re beautiful. Don’t look away… right there, baby.” He nodded his head and then his mouth fell open, a moan releasing from him that tipped me over the edge. 

I kept my eyes on his own blown out ones as I came around his cock, my cunt clenching over and over with each wave that hit me. I gushed all over him and he moaned louder at the feeling of it. I clung to him desperately, digging my nails into his back as I pushed my hips forward, trying to ride out my orgasm as long as I could. I never looked away as I watched him come, his cheeks flushed and lips shiny with my spit. 

He moaned my name as he came hard, his body shaking and trembling against my own. I slid my fingers into his sweaty hair, watching the way he came undone. He kept eye contact with me the whole time, drinking me in, like he couldn’t get enough.

Harry kissed me, his tongue moving over mine sensually, his fingers releasing their harsh grip into my skin. His breaths came hard against my cheek as we kissed, but he didn’t pull back to catch it until he had kissed me as long as he could. His hold went from rough to gentle, arms slipping around my back, his fingers a whisper against my spine. We stayed like that for a long time, with him nestled inside of me, our breathing and heartbeats both slowing back to normal. 

“Let me clean you up.” He whispered, slowly pulling out of me, rubbing his hands over my thighs when I dropped them down. 

I felt like jello, like I would melt into the countertops if he didn’t hold onto me tight. He massaged my thighs for a long moment before he reached over for some napkins, using them to clean all of his cum off of the both of us. I watched him bend over to pick up my shorts and underwear, which were left forgotten on the kitchen floor. 

He pressed kisses to my ankles and calves as he carefully slid my shorts back on, waiting for me to lift my hips so he could pull them all the way up. I was grateful for the help as I knew as soon as I stood on both legs, I’d be wobbling all over the place. 

Harry pressed his hands to the counter on either side of my body, leaning forward until his face was inches from mine. His eyes were dark, his gorgeous mouth so close to my own that I could feel his warm breath as he let out a long sigh. 

I thought maybe this would be the moment he tells me that this shouldn’t have happened, that this couldn’t continue, that he was too old or I was too young and we were both stupid with lust. I braced myself like I would for a punch. 

But he didn’t say that. He leaned in and he kissed me passionately, lifting his hands to cup my face between them. He brushed my hair back and then pulled my lips from his, his eyes finding mine right away. 

“The next time I ask you if I should cancel a date,” Harry smiled slowly, lips brushing over mine, “Say yes.” 

[judeswhore]

the babysitters club; steve harrington

summary: steve is used to babysitting teens, you’ve never actually seen him around kids younger than 14 so it’s a pleasant surprise to you when he offers to help you babysit your baby niece.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

requested: yes

warnings: none

notes: feedback is appreciated! you can find my masterlist here.

one thing you had not expected of today was to see steve harrington sitting on his knees in the middle of the floor, baby blanket thrown over one shoulder, attempting to change a diaper. you came to a stop in the living room doorway, mouth dropping open slightly as you watched your boyfriend struggle with getting the diaper right, mumbling to himself under his breath. his hair was falling into his eyes and he pushed it back with an impatient flick of his wrist, sighing when rose wriggled and kicked her feet, a babble of noises tumbling from her tiny lips.

"hey, i know, bug, but you gotta stay still for uncle stevie, okay? this is like the worlds most complicated jigsaw puzzle." sickly sweet warmth trickled down your spine when the words “uncle stevie” fell from his lips. this wasn’t the first time steve had met rose, he’d spent plenty of family dinners with you and your sisters family but this was the first time he’d referred to himself like that. you weren’t surprised by how much you liked it or the way it tugged at your insides.

from where you were standing steve couldn't see you, so you took a few moments to admire him, the careful, gentle way he handled your niece, the soft look in his eyes whenever she cooed or giggled sending a surge of love through you. the way he was talking to her, replying to her babbles as though he understood exactly what she was saying went straight to your heart, made it squeeze so tight it hurt, had butterflies swirling in your tummy. you didn't think it was possible to fall more in love with him, but seeing him like this had you tripping over yourself and giving him yet another piece of your heart.

"need help?" you voice startled steve and he jumped ever so slightly, turning to face you with wide eyes. you shook the bottle you'd made in your hand, glancing between him and the little girl currently making grabby hands at him. "made her milk, polly said she usually has a nap at this time." steve's lips tilted into a small smile but he gave a little shake of his head, turning back to the baby in front of him.

"got you all sorted haven't we?" he tapped the end of her nose, his smile blossoming when she giggled and wrapped her entire fist around his finger. he was gentle pulling it away from her so he could fasten her baby suit back up, pouting when she whined and kicked her feet. "hey, less of that." he was quick with the buttons and it surprised you how at ease he was with her, how comfortable he seemed with everything. steve was used to babysitting teenagers, not actual babies who needed attention at all times.

when he'd offered to help you today you'd thought he'd just sit by you, maybe make your food or tidy things up after you were finished with them but no, from the second he'd walked through the door he'd been glued to rose. he'd read her a story, bounced her against his knee when she'd started crying, singing softly in her ear and now here he was changing her diaper. rose was smitten with him, clinging to his shirt and hair, nuzzling her cheek against his, constantly whining if he left her for even a second. the whole day you'd watched them together and something had bloomed inside of you, fantasies of a future with steve creeping up on you. he was so good with her and it made you wonder what it would be like to have your own family one day, your own tiny little harrington.

you settled yourself down on the sofa, bottle of milk in hand and watched steve lift rose into the air, now fully dressed, raising her a little over his head before rubbing his nose gently against hers. her giggles and his light laugh spread around the room and brought a smile to your own face. "all done, back to being the prettiest little girl in the world aren't you." he was careful in rising off the floor, letting rose rest on his hip as she babbled in that little baby language that belonged only to her but steve nodded as though he was following, shooting you a teasing glance as he passed you her little blanket. "oh really? well i think y/n's pretty too but you're my favourite girl now. she never lets me sing to her and she’s definitely not as funny as you are.”

you couldn't help but roll your eyes, hitting his thigh with the back of your hand when he plopped down next to you. he brought rose to his chest, wincing ever so slightly when she tugged at his hair. "you're such an idiot." the gasp that escaped him was overdramatic and loud, his hand reaching up to cover the little girls ear. he sent you a mock disappointed look, shaking his head and tutting quietly.

"not around the baby." steve ran his thumb over rose's cheek, soothing her slightly as he shifted her in his arms. he shook his head when she grabbed at his hand, tried to chew on his finger and breathed a laugh through his nose. "feeling hungry now, missy? cant have that though, i'm afraid it belongs to me." he wiggled his fingers free and before she could start crying you passed him the bottle you'd made.

"here." steve paused, bottle in midair, rose trying to reach for it and stared at you, lips parted. you grinned a little at his surprised face, shuffling closer to him until the three of you were basically huddled in one corner of the sofa.

"oh, you want me to do it?"

"she wouldn't even let me hold her when you went to the toilet, you think she'll fall asleep with me?"

"the harrington charm works on people of all ages, it seems."

"be quiet." you watched him lay her head comfortably in the crook of his arm, tilting the bottle until she wrapped her lips around it, her tiny fingers holding it up. steve kept the very tip of his pointer finger against the bottom just in case it fell and the smallness of that gesture made love wind around your heart like vines. "she really likes you, y'know." you tucked the little blanket over her, grinning at the way she'd snuggled so completely into steve.

"i guess she takes after you then."

"yeah, s'pposse so." you leant in to rest your head against his shoulder, both of you staring down at rose, watching as her lashes fluttered closed. "you're amazing with her." he turned his head and his lips brushed lightly over your hairline, a soft kiss being pressed into your warm skin.

“so are you.”

“i barely even did anything today, polly should be paying you.” and that was true, you’d done nothing all day besides make rose’s bottles, make food for you and steve and attempt to keep the little girl occupied when he’d left the room. steve had done all the work, had kept her from crying too much with his silly games of peak-a-boo and and over dramatic retellings of adventures he’d had with dustin. he was a natural, looking at home surrounded by toys and plushies and a few times throughout the day you’d let yourself imagine that this was your life. that every day you got to come home to steve lying on the sofa, your own little baby settled on his chest as he ran his hand up and down their back or him bouncing them against his knee until they were a mess of grins and giggles. before today you’d never given too much thought to having a family, but steve in somewhat of a dad mode had flipped a switch inside of you. you wanted a family with him.

“you think your sister will let me help you out more often?” he dropped another kiss to your head before you looked up at him, eyes meeting his, gaze skipping over the freckles on his face and the little cut on his lip from rose’s not so gentle playing with her toys. you lifted your hand and brushed your thumb lightly over the raised mark.

“you wanna babysit again?”

“yeah, why not? she’s cute and i had fun plus y’know,” he let his shoulders rise and fall in a shrug, glancing down at rose when he realised she’d taken one hand from the bottle and was clutching his pinky in her fist. you caught the way his eyes lit up, eyes crinkling from his smile, pure radiant happiness buzzing from him. “it’s good practice for us, right? like one day.” he sounded a little hesitant, didn’t lift his head to meet your eyes but pure white hot elation flooded your senses as you realised steve had been thinking about exactly the same thing you had been all day.

you tilted your head and pressed a kiss to his cheek, soft and loving and completely reassuring and steve turned a little pink, the tops of his ears flushing. “like you need practice, harrington, you’re naturally maternal.” he frowned at this, turning to narrow his eyes at you.

“you mean paternal.”

“no,” you kissed his lips, tender and sweet, brushing your fingers through his hair. rose had finished her bottle and you watched as steve shifted to take it from her, leaning over to set it on the ground. he lifted her gently, more than aware that she was half asleep and sat her on one knee, her little feet resting in your lap. one hand came up to hold beneath her chin, the other on her back, slow circles being rubbed over her. he was getting rid of her wind, without you so much as having to show him how and that just solidified your next words. “you’re just such a mother, stevie.”

[istoleyoursk1n]

Hii 💕 can I request where Gale,Wyll,Halsin,Astarion are cuddling with a female Tav in the middle of the night the owl bear cub walks up to them and stares before trying to cuddle her as well thank you💕 sorry to bug

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How would the boys react to Tav cuddling with them at night ft. The owlbear cub!

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: ̗̀➛ ASTARION

“Gods, does it really have to join us? Yes? Oh, fine. But don't put the poor thing near me, darling, it smells! Don't give me that look, I said what I said.”

He likes the cub don't worry

It was a quiet night with you and Astarion, one which was spent with a couple of bottles of wine and the occasional silent laughter. All but him and you were awake at this time, bickering and bantering as the alcohol slowly sank in.

It started off with his usual snarky remarks in regards to your companions (Gale), then about the various foes you've both slayed and how they were absolutely hideous. Oh, and how he nearly broke a nail. He’s devastated.

Even so, the both of you were content with each other’s presence. a sudden warmth filling his otherwise undead heart.

Though he didn't admit it out loud just yet, he had never felt more alive in his life. Every moment he spent with you was making up for all the years of suffering he had been out through.

Who knew that one quiet night alone by the campfire could make him feel… hopeful. Hopeful that whatever you both may face, he wouldn't have to stand alone in fear. He has you.

And just when he thought the moment was right. Just when he thought he could finally lean in for the sweet kiss he’d finally come to initiate himself, that was when you both heard a sudden chirp.

The face he made when he suddenly saw his midnight snack the owlbear cub nudging against you was priceless, he couldn't decide whether he wanted to curse it or awe at the poor thing.

I mean. It was an adorable sight. But gods damnit this was supposed to be his moment! Nevertheless, he settled with cuddling both you and the owlbear (to his reluctance, he's still quite bitter about it.)

: ̗̀➛GALE

“Well hello there little one! I wasn't particularly expecting to have another join such a special night but how can I to turn away this fuzzy friend of ours? Perhaps I could put on another light show! Dedicated to the both of you this time. How does that sound?”

He was in the midst of conjuring a few light spells here and there as you two nuzzled up together, giving you a tiny little light show all for you.

He simply adored the twinkle in your eyes every time he began to show a few magic tricks here and there, anything to make you smile of course.

This man would light up the sky with the most brilliant of stars for you, but trust and believe that above all the comets and moons above, you will always be the most radiant thing he could have ever admired.

He probably would have tried to teach you a simple trick or two (assuming you aren't already a knowledgeable wizard such as himself), so both of you could light up the sky together.

He could have written a hundred love letters all in your name right then and there and still, each word could never have captured just how deeply he treasures you.

All his time studying and channeling the weave in all of its forms and yet all of the comforts and powers it may hold could never compare to the ultimate bliss he feels when he's with you.

He was a mere second from pulling you closer, a tiny inch closer from finally pressing a sweetened kiss against those spellbinding lips of yours, and he would have gotten it if it weren't for the damn owlbear pouncing atop him.

He nearly screamed He was all so good at pretending not to be startled. Despite the interruption, he could hardly remain upset for long, not when the cub was this adorable! However, he still managed to wriggle a quick kiss against the corners of your lips before you eagerly brought the owlbear closer to the both of you.

He was perfectly content with sharing you with the cute little thing, both of you felt so warm, and if he could, he’d be sleeping right then and there.

He did in fact fall asleep.

: ̗̀➛WYLL

“Oh! Well, won't you look at that! Perhaps our furry little companion would love a dance lesson of his own? No? Ha! Cuddling it is then, come here! Both of you! Nothing but another sweet thing to brighten up the mood.”

He had spent most of the night dancing away with you in his arms. In the bright glowing moonlight you looked absolutely stunning in ways dreams of his own could never compare.

While he wished for this intimate dance of yours to go on for longer, he was perfectly happy with cuddling up next to you too.

Amidst the silence of the night, he would whisper every sweet little thing he's come to adore about you, describing you in ways that could have made your heart swoon again and again.

You’d always find your own hand interlocked with his as if your hands were the only things he’d ever want to hold onto. His touch was always soft, no matter how smooth or calloused your own hands may be, he treated them as if they were the most fragile thing on earth.

The one thing that would shatter him completely is if, in the midst of cuddling, you decided to gently caress his horns or the ridges on his skin, kissing them would only take the words out of his lips. His heart is wholly yours, he couldn't ask for anything more!

If he could, he’d hum a soft tune, lulling you both into a peaceful rest where for just this night and hopefully many more, you both can be lost in a calming peace.

Everything seemed perfect, specifically the perfect time to finally plant a soft kiss against your lips. A kiss he knew would light his heart ablaze and scorch him completely, body and soul- but then he heard a soft little chirp.

He felt no bitterness at all the moment he saw those wide beady eyes of the camp’s lovely little owlcub stumble along to cuddle with you both. In fact, he practically lit up! He was already scooping up the damn thing as if it was his own child, already pulling the sweet cub into a hug.

The kisses he was going to give to you were given to the little bundle of joy, but don't worry! He does have some left reserved just for you.

: ̗̀➛HALSIN

“Hm, as they say, the more the merrier. Who am I to exclude one of nature’s own from a well-needed embrace. Isn't that right, my heart? Besides, the little one is far too adorable for me to simply ignore.”

He was already practically bear-hugging you from behind, capturing you in his arms so it was a tad bit difficult to escape. Though you could tell he was being as gentle as possible, a single tug and he’d let go of you if you so wished.

His head was buried against the crook of your neck, taking in your scent which he had come to grow absolutely obsessed with. There was always something about the way you smelled that made him all the more enchanted by you.

He wouldn’t say much, not when he was this relaxed, the sounds of nature around you both were enough to fill the silence.

You could tell that he was holding back, his hands trying their hardest to remain where they were rather than completely traveling all over your body. As much as he was able to hold himself back, it was always incredibly difficult to do so.

With your permission, his hands would go everywhere, worshipping each part of you as if you were a true deity. One that he was helplessly bewitched by.

There would be a subtle twitch from his fingers each time he touched another part of your body, almost as if he was resisting to urge to go further but he remained behaved. He would save the far more intimate nights for another day as this was supposed to be something far sweeter.

However, if you begin to touch him back? He’d be on the verge of losing himself entirely. Perhaps even a soft warning would slip out of his lips, attempting to both calm himself and stop you from pressing even further less this was what you truly wanted.

In the middle of all his resistance, he’d eventually lose control, his body once more transforming into a bear just as he always does when things became far too overwhelming for your sweet Druid, it was only the sound of a tiny chirp that managed to bring him back to his senses.

He’d calm down the moment he made eye contact with the owlbear cub, his bear form smiling down at the little creature as if he was truly pleased to see the small creature. What was going to be a rather intimate long night between you two soon became a happy little snuggle pile with you, bear Halsin, and the lovely owlbear cub.

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[tasteleeknow]

spiderweb

pairing: minho x fem!reader genre: smut, angst, roommates to lovers, brothers best friend.  content: 18+ minors dni. warnings below cut. word count: 7.4k

summary: he’s spent so long in denial. when he finally realises you’ve trapped him in your web, he panics. mutual pining. minho’s pov.

He startles awake at a high pitched scream before tumbling out of bed and scrambling to his feet. “Minho!” you scream again just as he’s swinging the door open that separates your bedrooms. He rushes into the room, kicking something across the floor as he struggles to locate you in the darkness. “What is it?! What’s wrong?” he asks, the frantic tone of his voice matching his clumsy movements. That’s when he spots you, perched on top of your dresser in the corner of your room.

warnings: profanity. dirty talk. pet names. afab!reader. virgin!reader. unprotected intercourse. oral (f. rec). 

“It went under the bed!” you cry, pointing to the single bed pushed up against the wall beside him. 

He pauses, sucking in a breath as he gathers himself. “It?” 

“Spider…It was huge. It fell from the ceiling.” 

He knew you were afraid of spiders but the blood curdling scream that had woken him had sent a chill through his body. You’d made him feel like his world was ending… for a bug. 

“Please,” you beg. “Please just kill it.” 

He looks between you and the bed again, then turns to leave. 

“No! Minho! Min, please. I—” he presses his hands over his ears as the door closes behind him, belly flopping back onto his bed. He groans.

He can still hear your muffled shouts for a few more minutes, pulling his hands from his ears when you finally fall silent. He rolls onto his side, away from the door. He struggles to sleep again, guilt stirring as he battles whether to go in there and kill the fucking spider for you. After a few more minutes, the door creaks open—light filtering from your room to his. He doesn’t move, pretending to be asleep as the door shuts again. The bed dips as you crawl in, pulling the blankets back and pressing yourself as close to him as possible.

He had never agreed to living with you. You were his roommate’s little sister. He’d agreed to live with Chris, not the add on. You were closer than any siblings he’d ever known, spending more time at your brother's apartment than most of his friends. As a result, you were the person he saw most besides his roommate. Chris had suggested turning the small study adjoined to Minho’s room into a room for you. For night’s when you fell asleep on the couch, he’d said. He’d made it sound like a precaution, to be used rarely—if ever. Minho had agreed offhandedly, hardly paying attention. “Sure, whatever,” he’d said, distracted by his phone. When he’d walked into his room with a towel around his waist the next night and found you sprawled out on his bed, he’d nearly hit the ceiling. 

“What the fuck!” he’d shouted, gripping his towel. 

You’d looked up at him, bursting into laughter before leisurely rolling off his bed and tapping him on the shoulder. “Sorry,” you said with a smile, disappearing into the small study and closing the door. He’d suggested getting a lock on the door and when Chris had pointed out it would lock you in, Minho had nodded. “Yes, that’s the idea,” he’d said. He’d groaned and wandered off when Chris had argued he could not in fact lock his little sister into a room with no way out. 

So here he was, his roommate's little sister practically living in his closet. He groans, attempting to shuffle away from the warm body pressed to his back. “Get out,” he mumbles. 

“Please, Min. I can’t sleep in there with it running around. What if it… crawls on me?” you whisper, shivering against him. So instead I have you crawling on me, he thinks. You yelp when he suddenly turns, trapping your hands above your head as he hovers over you. 

“Can you not be a pain in my ass for one single day?” he snaps. 

You’re completely still under him, looking up at him with wide eyes. Your eyes were another thing. The way you’d look at him drove him fucking insane. He knows the only reason he’d been able to walk out of the room and leave you perched on your dresser was because the lights were off. He couldn’t see your eyes. He groans, dropping his head to your neck for a moment and then rolling off you. 

“Under the bed?” he asks, staring up at the ceiling. He’d kill the fucking spider and then you’d leave and he could roll over and pretend you weren’t a thin wall away from him. 

“Yeah,” you whisper. He climbs over you, grabbing his phone from the bedside table.

He searches everywhere, under the bed, up the walls. He finds it behind the dresser, the one you’d been perched on. By the time he’s caught it and dropped it out your window into the bushes below, you’ve fallen fast asleep—curled up under his covers. He places his phone down on the bedside table gently then crawls over you, settling himself as far away from you as he can. He knows there's a perfectly good bed free in the room he’d just come from but he’s not letting you kick him out. His bed was objectively more comfortable. 

He stares at the wall for a while, hyper aware of your soft breathing behind him. When he gives in and rolls over he rolls his eyes at the hair falling over your face. It’s a wonder you’re still breathing. He reaches out slowly, then very carefully, he lifts it from your face—settling the soft strands over your shoulder. 

He sits up, grabbing one of the many pillows that sit against the headboard and placing it between your bodies. Then he rolls over again, resuming his staring contest with the wall. When he wakes again he processes two things: it was still dark and there was a body wrapped around him. You were practically draped over him, an arm around his waist and one leg thrown over his hip. You were so warm. He closes his eyes again just as a door slamming somewhere in the apartment jolts you awake. He feels it, the way you tense up and slowly lift your limbs from him—obviously assuming he’s still asleep. He doesn’t move and the bed rocks with your movement just as the bedroom door swings open. 

“Chris,” you whisper, “get out.” 

“What are you doing in—” 

The door shuts, cutting him off. Minho sits up—pushing his hands through his hair. Why the fuck was his roommate awake at this hour? And what was he doing slamming doors? He falls back against the pillows. He can hear them moving around out there, the sound of the water running through the pipes points to one of them being in the kitchen or bathroom. He could get up. He could check whether his roommate saw his little sister crawl out of his bed in the early hours of the morning. Minho turns his head, eyes fixing on the pillow you’d slept on. Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t be a fucking moron. He reaches out, snatching the pillow and pulling it to his face, ignoring his own internal monologue. He inhales deeply. It smells like your shampoo. “Fuck!” he shouts, throwing the pillow across the room, knocking something off his dresser. 

It takes less than a minute for the door to open and he sits up to see you poke your head around the door. “You alright? What was that?” you ask. 

He trails his eyes up your bare legs, remembering how they felt wrapped around him. “Why is Chris up?” he asks, hoping the darkness disguises where his eyes had been. 

You step into the room and take a few hesitant steps towards the bed before stopping—twisting a ring around your finger. “He’s pulling an all-nighter,” you answer. 

“Why’d he come in here?” 

You walk over to the bedside table, picking up the headphones Minho had borrowed from his roommate the day before. You wave them around, a silent answer. He watches you hesitate, taking a half step backwards towards the door. 

“I got rid of it,” he offers. “The spider.” 

You look down at your hands, fiddling with the headphones. “Thank you,” you say, your tone making him feel like jumping out of bed and pushing you against the wall. So soft, like he’d bought you a house and not killed a bug. “I’m… sorry for falling asleep. You should have woken me.” 

He knows that. He should have kicked you out of his bed the second you crawled in, dragged you out if he had to. His eyes drop the headphones you’re still fiddling with, the ones belonging to his roommate—your brother. 

“You’re right,” he says, “I should have.” He rolls over, facing the wall. 

“Thank you again,” you whisper. He waits for you to leave the room, door closing gently behind you. Then he gets up, marching over to the pillow on the floor and crawling back into bed with his loot. He wraps himself around it, falling asleep to the scent of you surrounding him. 

“I need her out,” he says to Chris the next day, reaching past him to grab a glass from the cupboard. He’d woken up this morning with the pillow still held tight to his body, morning wood pressed up into it. He hadn’t been able to jerk off freely since you’d practically moved into his room, grumbling as he’d stumbled into the shower to relieve himself. He’d made up his mind the second he’d released into his hand, his palm pressed flat against the bathroom wall to steady himself. This was the final straw.

“Why?” his roommate asks, stirring his coffee. 

“She’s in my space… and she doesn’t pay rent.” 

“You don’t either,” Christ points out, blowing across the surface of his drink. He’s right. He owned the place, letting Minho move in when he had nowhere else to go.

Minho sighs, placing his glass down on the bench a little too hard. “I just don’t want her here, yeah? Please.” 

“Chris?” your soft voice pulls both men’s attention to the doorway. Minho’s eyes take in the black t-shirt he’s been missing, then his gaze drops down your legs to your fluffy socks. He sucks in a breath before moving to your face. Your eyes are watery and he wants to die. “I don’t mind, really. I know I spend too much time here…I get it,” you say, voice soft and quiet—like you’re speaking to a stranger and not the two people who knew you best in the world. 

His roommate places his mug down quickly. “You don’t need to spend less time here. We’ll just move things around a bit so Minho has his own space, okay?” 

“No, I do. I…don’t get along that well with my roommates and…I like it here more, I guess. I shouldn’t have pushed in.” You look up at him, wide watery eyes meeting Minho’s directly. He holds his breath. “I’m sorry,” you say, finishing him off.

“Don’t get along?” Chris asks.

Your eyes drop to your hands, playing with your ring again. “They’re a little louder than me, that’s all. It’s not a big deal.” 

His roommate moves past him, taking a few steps towards his sister. “It’s a big deal if it’s making you not wanna be there,” he says.

“I’m just… alone most of the time. They’re always loud and hanging out together and I end up in my room alone. It’s silly. It doesn’t make me uncomfortable.” You take a step back through the door and Minho catches himself as he goes to take a step to follow you. Your brother follows you instead, the way it should be. He looks across the kitchen to the sink and quickly walks over to turn the tap on high, then he walks to the doorway—pressing himself against the wall so he can eavesdrop. You both speak in hushed tones, obviously assuming Minho is minding his own business—like he should.

“Stay, please,” Chris says. He sounds exhausted. Minho has no idea when his friend had slept last. He was always doing this to himself, pushing himself too far. It just adds to his guilt. His friend was letting him live in his place for free and here he was, stirring up problems for him just because he was struggling to keep his dick in his pants. 

“Do you…know why he doesn’t like me?” you whisper, unaware Minho was lurking around the corner. He should show himself, he should. He’s always thinking about what he should and shouldn’t do. Never listening to his own advice. 

“He likes you. He just wants his own space. It’s not about you, I promise.” 

Minho drops his head against the wall, cringing at the small thud it makes. Chris was wrong. It was entirely about you. 

“Just stay,” Chris continues, “I’m gonna sleep for a few hours and then we’ll rearrange some things, yeah? It’s fine. Stay.” 

“I-”

Minho reveals himself, cutting you off before you can argue again. “Stay. We’ll talk about it when he wakes up.” 

Your eyes flick between his, your brows rising at his sudden appearance. Then you nod, arms wrapping around yourself. 

“Alright,” your brother says, “I’m going to bed.” 

Minho feels like his roommate takes the oxygen from the room with him as he leaves, leaving him alone with his little sister wearing his t-shirt. If you hadn’t just overheard him begging your brother to kick you out, he’d have bugged you about it; made you tell him why you’d stolen one of his favourite shirts. He loved the way you’d get flustered, attempting to explain yourself.

“I have some work to do today, so I’ll just… be in my room,” you say, taking small steps away from him. 

Minho opens his mouth, then realising he has no idea what to say, closes it again—offering you a weak nod instead. You turn quickly, practically running from him. It feels a million times worse than when you’re smothering him. 

He goes for a walk, attempting to distract himself from the morning’s events. When he finds a bench overlooking a pond, pigeons pecking around in the grass around it, he takes a seat. He attempts to zone out, just…think about nothing. An old woman joins him after a while, pulling a large bag of cut up grapes from her trolley and dropping them around her as the ducks approach from the water. Before he knows it he’s surrounded by birds, his peaceful spot suddenly a hub of activity. 

“What are you looking so gloomy for?” the old woman asks him, dropping a few more grapes on the ground at her feet. 

“Oh, I’m just tired,” he offers lazily, an obvious lie. 

She’s quiet for a moment, the sounds of the birds around them filling the silence. Then she speaks again. “My grandchildren tell me I’m good at offering advice. Maybe they’re just trying to keep me happy, but I’ll offer it to you for free if you want to tell me the truth.” 

He looks up at the woman beside him, her kind eyes cradled by deep creases. He sighs, leaning back. “I-I think I love someone.” 

It's the first time he’s admitted it to himself and hearing the words in his own voice startle him a little. Love. He hadn’t even meant to say it. He’d intended to say ‘like’. His brows furrow at his own freudian slip.

“Is that something to be sad about?” 

He sighs. “I shouldn’t... feel this way about her.” 

“Why not?” she questions, tipping the remainder of her grapes onto the ground.

He presses his fingers to his right temple, attempting to rub his headache away. “She’s…my friend’s sister. He wouldn’t be happy about it. He’s.. done a lot for me.” 

“Has he said he disapproves?” 

Minho frowns. “No, but I know he wouldn’t like it. I’m not…doing well in life. I’m a burden.” 

They’re both quiet for a moment, the sound of the birds feeding filling the silence. “This friend who has done a lot for you… do you think he loves you?” 

Did Chris love him? “I…don’t know. He likes me enough.” 

They both fall quiet again, the ducks starting to wander away—finished with their meal. Minho had never stopped to consider why Chris let him live with him for free or why he helped him out when he was looking for jobs and getting nowhere. Why he stuck his neck out for him at his company and got him a position there. He was so busy being grateful he never thought about why he’d done it all for him. He supposed he probably did love him. It made sense. That was the type of person his friend was. He’d do anything for the people he loved. He’d seen it first hand with all he did for you. 

“If your friend did approve of you… and this girl, if she felt the same way you do… would you tell her?” 

He nods, without hesitation.

“Then stop sitting around looking gloomy. You have a chance to add some more joy to your life,” she says, standing up and gathering her belongings. She holds out her hand to him and when he places his palm in hers, she merely squeezes him gently. “Take it. Always take it,” she says. “That is the point of it all.” 

When he gets home the door between your rooms is closed. It’s the first time he can remember you closing it yourself. He was always the one to close it on you. He thinks about what you’d said earlier. You’d been feeling closed off and isolated from the people you’d live with. You’d come here to feel closer to someone and one of the first things he’d tried to do was lock you in. He knocks quickly. Two quiet raps, so quiet it makes him feel like a coward. When you swing the door open the first thing he notices is you’ve taken off his t-shirt, replacing it with one of your own long sleeved shirts. This sight alone is upsetting enough but then his eyes move up to yours and he wants to run, turn and run out the door for good. You’ve been crying. There had been a delay before you’d opened the door and he imagines you wiping at your eyes, attempting to hide what he’d done to you. 

“Is Chris awake?” you ask, pulling your sleeves down over your hands. 

“No.” 

Your brows pull together, obviously confused why he would come to you if not to inform you of that. He turns, walking over to his bed and collapsing down onto the edge. He bends over, resting his head in his hands. Your fluffy socks appear at his feet and he looks up, accepting the harsh truth once and for all. He loved you. He should run to his friend now, shake him awake and break the news. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, sitting down next to him. 

He turns to look at you, resisting the urge to wipe some of the wetness you’d missed around your eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says instead. “I didn’t mean what I said.” 

“You don’t have to take it back now. You wouldn’t have said it if you didn’t mean it.” 

He groans, falling onto his back and sucking in a deep breath before sitting up again. He turns, facing you fully. “I want you here. I want you here all the time. I promise.” 

“No, you don’t. I’m not stupid.” 

He wants to push you onto your back, hold you down like he had last night—make you understand. He could show you with his lips. Show you the things he didn’t know how to say. He shakes his head. “I know, I know you’re not stupid. I’m the fucking moron here,” he groans. 

Your soft hand reaches out to cover his, pulling it into your lap. “Don’t say that,” you whisper. 

He turns your hands over so he can play with your fingers, comparing the sizes of your hands, twisting the ring you’re always playing with. When his mind drifts to imagining what kind of engagement ring you’d like he pulls back quickly, startled by his own train of thought. He jumps off the bed, dropping his hands to his side—unsure what to do with himself. 

You stand, taking a step closer to him. “It’s okay, Min. I’m used…to this kind of thing. I get attached to people and it’s too much for them. I’m your friend’s little sister.”

“Yeah,” he breathes. Friend’s little sister. Wait, attached? He replays your words through his mind. 

“Attached?” he questions. 

You look up at him, eyes wide and vulnerable. “I like you, Min,” you say, like it was the easiest thing in the world. Like it wasn’t the thing he wanted to hear most. “When I find people I like, I latch on. I know that.” 

“I like you, too,” he responds quickly. He hopes it doesn’t come across as desperate. 

You huff out a laugh, breaking his heart. He watches you walk around him, taking small steps back towards your room. “It’s alright, Min. I’ll leave you alone, promise.” You don’t believe him. Say something, his brain screams. Do something. He listens to his internal monologue for once, taking two large steps towards you and wrapping an arm around your waist. He presses his hand gently to the side of your face, directing your eyes to his.

“I like you, too,” he repeats, flicking his eyes between yours—begging you to hear him. Your lips part, brows pulling together as you process his words. He brushes his thumb across your cheek, taking the opportunity to feel you like this—your skin soft against his calloused fingertips. Then you take a large step back, his arms dropping to his sides as he releases you. 

“I don’t…What do you mean?” 

“I like you,” he repeats again. 

“Yes, I heard you. I don’t understand what you mean.” 

He wants to scream, frustrated with the concept of language. He wishes he could just send you his feelings, show you how his heart races everytime you walk in the front door. How your laugh made him feel like writing music. How he’d stroked himself this morning just to the thought of your soft thigh thrown over his hip. He takes a few steps back, resuming his position at the edge of his mattress. The room is quiet as he gathers his thoughts. He lifts his head as you approach him, sitting between his legs and resting your hands on his knees. 

“Tell me what you mean, please,” you ask. 

“I didn’t wake you up last night because I didn’t want to,” he confesses quickly, before he can talk himself out of it. “I wanted to crawl into bed with you and pretend it was normal; pretend it was just something we did. Then… you… you were wrapped around me when I woke up and I was angry that Chris woke you. I-I was angry he took you from me,” he finishes, looking down at you. He leaves out the part where he wrapped himself around your pillow, pretending it was you. 

“You like me?” you whisper, hands moving from his knees up his thighs a little. 

He smiles, a weight lifting off his shoulders. You understood. “Mm, I like you,” he whispers back. 

He watches as you lift yourself onto your knees, shuffling a little further between his legs and wrapping your arms around his torso—the side of your face pressed into his stomach. The ways he’d so often imagined you kneeling between his knees weren’t quite so innocent. This version is so… you. His heart swells as he lifts his hand to your head, fingers ghosting over your hair just as you pull back. He’s not prepared at all when you practically dive at him, pushing him down against the mattress. He gazes up at you as you mount him, trying to process the rapid shift of his emotional state. He’s not sure what he’s expecting but when you lie down over him, pressing your body into his—he is not disappointed. Your ear is pressed to his chest, fluffy socks brushing against his bare thighs.

He laughs lightly, folding his arms over you. You lift your head, looking up at him. “Is this okay?” you ask.

“Mm, s’okay.” 

You press your head back to his chest, humming in contentment. He feels like he could levitate off the bed and float into space. He can smell your shampoo perfectly from here, reminding him of the pillow he’d slept with. He sighs, indulging in the much warmer reality. 

Then the water pipes in the wall by his head come to life, reminding him of the other body in the apartment. He tenses, sitting up quickly—pulling you up with him. He doesn’t have the heart to push you off his lap. 

“Min?” you question. “What is it?” 

“Your brother.” 

“What about him?” you ask, a pretty little line forming between your brows. He reaches to smooth it out.

“You should get off,” he whispers, hoping very much that you don’t. 

You drop your arms from his neck. He misses them immediately. “Because of Chris? Did he say something?” 

Minho shakes his head. “He wouldn’t like this. I haven’t… I haven’t asked him.” 

You’re quiet for a moment and he listens intently to the sound of the pipes, indicating his friend was busy and not about to enter the room and find his little sister in his lap. “Ask him what?” you finally ask. 

What would he ask him? He’d been so focused on what he’d say to you on his walk home he hadn’t even had time to consider how he’d approach his friend. “I… don’t know. If he’s okay with this, I guess.” 

“This?” you question, forcing him to voice his greatest desire. 

“If he’s okay with me…asking if you’ll have me. If he’s okay with us being together.” 

You smile, threading your fingers in his hair. He blinks, attempting not to let a satisfied hum slip from his lips. “I don’t need my brother's permission to date you, Min. I’m a grown woman, yeah?” you say, eyes trailing over his face. “You can just ask me.” 

“He might…not think I’m enough for you.” 

You laugh softly, the sound igniting a burst of light in his chest. Music. “You’re his best friend. I can’t imagine he’d think anyone else in the world deserved me more,” you pause, brushing the hair that flops over his forehead out of his eyes. Your fingers are gentle, like he’s made of porcelain. It makes him want to punch a pillow, or kiss you. Either would do. “Besides, that’s up to me to decide,” you finish. 

“I presume by the way you just jumped on me you’ve decided I am… good enough,” he says. His own voice sounds foreign to him, light and breathy. 

You smile, leaning forward a little and pressing your soft lips to his. He feels like he could vibrate, his heart beating so hard he wonders if you can hear it. The sounds of the pipes fade away along with the rest of the world. He didn’t give a fuck about any of it. How could he when you were in his lap, your sweet lips against his. 

“Would you like…I mean-I…I’d like you to fuck me.”  

His head spins, blinking slowly as he processes the words you’d just muttered against his mouth. He hadn’t heard you curse once, not in the years he’d known you. He wants you to curse with the tip of his cock brushing against your lips. He presses his hands to the bed beside him as he squeezes his eyes shut. Chris. His friend. His very good friend who had done so much for him. He should definitely talk to him and not fuck his little sister while he showers. 

He feels your lips brushing against his again. He resists pushing forward to connect them properly. “Please?” you whisper. 

A low pained sound escapes him, his hands lifting to grip your waist. “I want to,” he whispers. “Your—”

“If you say brother right now I’ll scream. I fuck who I want.” You move your lips to his throat, lips brushing over his skin. “And I want you.” 

He stands up quickly, setting you gently on your feet then stumbling backwards—practically crashing into the wall. He looks to the closed door then to the wall where water is still running through the pipes. You approach him like a siren to a sailor, attempting to drown him. He could ignore you. He could run and live to see another day. Or… he could let you take him, drown in utter bliss. Surely it would be worth any consequences. He’s struggling to see past you, right here in front of him—asking him to swim. 

“Joy,” he mutters to himself. He surges forward, practically colliding with you in his desperation. You squeak as he crashes his mouth into yours, stumbling backwards a little before he catches you. He lifts you, walking towards the bed and turning at the last second—collapsing back onto the mattress, taking you with him. Your soft giggles into his neck are the final note in your siren song. He wants to lift your head and tell you you’ve won, he’s lured. Instead he brings your lips to his again, luxuriating in the feeling of your body pressed onto his. 

“Can you be quiet?” you whisper. “I want you, but you’ll need to be quiet.” 

He nods and you climb off him, walking to his door and turning the lock. He reaches down to readjust himself. Oh, fuck. You were…really doing this. When you turn to face him, his eyes fix on where your hands fiddle with the hem of your shirt—teasing him. 

“Can you take yours off first?” you ask, approaching him slowly. “I’ve never…” 

He stands up quickly. “Never what?” he asks, heart thumping hard in his chest. 

“Had sex,” you whisper, crashing him back down to earth. He finds himself up against the wall again, having backed away from you. He can’t escape your web, he knows that. But the solid wall behind him makes him feel more grounded. 

“I can’t…take your virginity with your brother in the next room.” 

You approach him slowly, like a fly struggling in your trap. “You can,” you insist. “I’ll be quiet.” 

“I’ll just go talk to him. I’ll talk to him and tell him I’m taking you on a date,” he says it like he’s trying to convince you to spare him, let him live. “We’ll go on dates and then eventually, if you want… we can try this.” 

Your fingers brush over his lips, tracing his mouth like you’re inspecting him before you bite. “I’ve been practically sharing a room with you for months. I don’t need dates,” you whisper. “I know you.”

“You know me,” he repeats to himself, unsure why those words seem louder or why they bounce around his brain. 

“Mm,” you confirm. “I know you, Min. And you know me. Right?” 

“Yeah,” he breathes. 

Your fingers trace down to his collarbone. “And you want me?” you ask. 

“Yeah.” 

“Then you can have me,” you say, voice breathy. “If you want.” 

He lifts his hand, hesitating for a second and then brushing his thumb under your eye—your skin still a little damp from your tears. He traces over your cheek, down to your mouth—pulling your bottom lip down a little. Joy, his inner voice says. He pulls his shirt over his head, pulling you back into him after you step back a little at his sudden movement. “I want your first time to be better than this. Do it properly,” he says. 

Your eyes drift to his chest then snap back to his eyes. “Hm?”

“We can…play? Just a little.” 

“Play?” you ask, eyes wide. He presses a kiss to your temple as he reaches down to tug at your shirt, prompting you to lift your arms so he can pull it over your head. 

“Mm, just play a little,” he says. You have nothing underneath and his thumb brushes over your nipple as he holds his breath, the image of you standing in front of him like this etching into his mind permanently. Then you drop to your knees and his head makes a small thump against the wall as he tips it back, squeezing his eyes shut. “What are you doing?” he asks. 

“Hm? Helping you,” you answer, delicately untying his shorts. Then, without hesitation, you pull them down his legs. He sucks in a deep breath before looking down at you, preparing himself. Your fingers trace patterns over his thighs, soft fingertips tickling his skin. He reaches down, pulling you up so he can kiss you again. You hum into his mouth as he walks to you towards the bed, releasing you only so you can crawl up to the pillows. He palms himself over his underwear as you sit back, hooking your thumbs in your little shorts and wiggling them down your thighs—lifting your ass off the bed to pull them off completely. 

His eyes drag from your body to the wall as the pipes fall silent. He was in too deep now. He crawls into the bed, settling himself between your legs. He runs his palms over your legs, up to your thighs then back down again. He lifts one of them up so he can press his lips to your calf, watching your face as your hands move down to cover your centre. “Want a kiss?” he asks, smiling as you nod and reach out to him. He watches your eyes widen, arms dropping as he lowers himself to the bed between your legs. Your lips part as he presses a soft kiss to your clothed cunt, thighs attempting to close around him. “Another?” he whispers. 

You nod. “Please.” 

He listens to your breath catch as he peppers you with kisses, one hand wrapping around your thigh to keep you spread for him. Little noises slip from your throat, prompting him to reach up and press his palm over your mouth. “Shhh, baby,” he soothes, hooking his fingers into the hem of your underwear. “Gonna kiss you properly, yeah?” 

You nod and he releases your mouth, directing his attention to wear he pulls the fabric down your thighs—leaving soft kisses down your legs as he goes. By the time he works back up to your centre your hips are lifting off the bed, squirming as you stifle your own noises. He pushes your thighs apart, getting a good look at you for the first time. He traces his index finger from your clit to your entrance then leans forward, pressing a kiss directly to your clit. You squeak as he makes contact, hand pressed firmly over your mouth. 

A knock of the door makes you jolt, pressing your cunt into his face. “Minho! We gonna talk about moving things around or what?” Christ shouts, knocking on the door again. Minho looks up at your face, panic evident in your eyes.

“She’s asleep!” he shouts back. 

The doorknob rattles. “Let me in.” 

Minho sits back on his heels, eyes trailing over you—sprawled out on his sheets. He nods his head in the direction of your room and you sit up, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before scrambling off the bed—collecting your clothes as you go. The second your door closes he walks to his door, pulling it open. His friend's eyes drop down to his underwear. “She must be asleep for you to be walking around like that,” he says, poking his head in to see your closed door. “She can take my room,” he says. “I’ll move into my office.” 

“No,” Minho says quickly, cringing a little at the tone of his response. A little too desperate. “I mean it’s fine. We talked about it and I apologised.”

Chris frowns. “You don’t have to live with her if it makes you uncomfortable, mate. It’s your place as much as it is mine, you know that.” 

A throb of guilt builds in his chest. He sighs, opening the door fully and walking back to his bed. Chris follows after a moment, sitting at the edge of the mattress beside him. “Why have you done so much for me?” Minho asks. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Letting me live here, getting me a job.”  

Chris frowns, shifting on the bed. He looks uncomfortable. “Why wouldn’t I? You’d do the same for me, right?” 

“I… yeah.” 

“You two are my family,” Chris says, looking up to your closed door. 

Minho follows his gaze, eyes fixing on the door. He wonders if you got dressed again or if you're still naked. “I have to tell you something,” he says, failing to look at the man next to him. 

His friend places his hand on his bare thigh, patting him a few times. “I know, mate.” 

Minho’s eyes snap to him. “What?” 

“You’ve got a thing for my sister. I know,” he says, offering him a small smile. “I assumed it had something to do with what happened today. Did she turn you down?” 

Minho blinks, processing the bomb his friend had just dropped on him. “You… know,” he mutters. Then he shakes his head. “No, she didn’t turn me down. I-I mean she feels…similarly.” 

Chan looks to the closed door again. “So…?” 

“I only…I mean I only found out a few minutes ago. I wanted her gone because I thought she didn’t…thought you’d both…hate me for it.” 

Chris stands, backing towards the open door a little before his eyes catch on the pile of clothes on the floor. “Are you… naked because you were…with her?” he says, taking another small step backwards. 

Minho presses his palm to the back of his neck, answering with his silence. Chris squeezes his eyes shut. “You good in there?” he shouts, cringing. 

The door creaks open and you poke your head out. Minho smiles, recognising his shirt. You’d put it back on. “Could you… leave, please?” you ask, smiling sweetly. 

“God. Yeah, I’m going out for a bit,” Chris says, turning and practically sprinting for the door. Minho stands, following him. 

“You’re alright with it then?” Minho shouts, watching his friend pull his shoes on. He doesn’t look up from where he’s jumping around in one shoe, waving his hand over his head. 

“If you’re both happy, I’m happy. I just don’t wanna be here while you’re being happy, yeah?” he says, grabbing his jacket and pulling the door open. He pauses. “You’re happy?” he asks. 

Minho nods. “Very.” 

Chris smiles. “Good,” he says, turning and pulling the door closed behind him. 

Minho sucks in a deep breath, feeling lighter than he had in years. A door creaks behind him and he spins to find you standing there in his favourite black t-shirt. He smiles, holding his arms open for you. You practically jump at him and he stumbles back a step as he catches his balance. “He was okay?” you ask, legs dangling from where he holds you up against him. 

“Mm, he said he wants us to be happy.” 

“I’m happy,” you whisper. 

Minho smiles. “Me too.” 

“You know what would make me even happier?” you say, fingers moving up the back of his head—threading into his hair. “If you continue where you left off.” 

“Oh, you want me to finish kissing your pussy?” 

You nod. “Yes, please.” 

“Okay, since you asked so nicely,” Minho says, carrying you back towards his room. You wrap your legs around his hips, clinging to him. He licks his lips then huffs out a laugh, thinking back to that morning. He’d jerked off to the thought of your leg draped over him and now here he was, the taste of your sweet cunt on his lips.

“Why didn’t you kill the spider for me when I asked nicely,” you ask, grasping a handful of his hair and tugging lightly.  

“I did.”

“Only after you left me there.” 

“You made me think you were dying.” 

You smile, hand loosening in his hair. “Aw, did I worry you?” your tone teasing. He nods and your smile drops, pressing your face to his neck. “Stop, my heart will explode,” you mutter into his skin. 

“That would also worry me.” 

You press a kiss to his neck. “Catch the spider straight away next time please.” 

“Alright,” he agrees, lowering you down to the ground at the side of his bed. 

You look up at him, eyes warm and hopeful. He’s never loved them more. “Could we…do it properly now that he’s gone?” you ask, eyes trapping him in place. He brushes your hair over your shoulder. 

“Alright.” 

You frown. “You’re being very agreeable.” 

“Mm, apparently I’m agreeable when I’m happy.” 

You laugh. “Stay happy, please.” 

He smiles. “Alright.” 

You latch onto him, pulling him down onto the bed with you. He moves you up the mattress, dropping you against the pillows. “You’re wearing my shirt,” he says, hand slipping under the hem until he finds one of your breasts. 

“Mm, I like sleeping in it.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Especially after you’ve worn it.” 

He hums, pulling his hand free. “Think we should leave it on,” he mutters, eyes trailing up and down your body before he moves down between your legs. “Just the shirt,” he breathes, pushing your thighs apart. Your pretty cunt is still wet and while he’s tempted to continue where he left off with small kisses but he wants more. Your hips rise off the bed as he presses his tongue to your slit, leaving small kitten licks until you reach down and grasp a handful of his hair—tugging his head. 

“Min,” you gasp. “Can’t.” 

“Want you to cum…will make it easier for me to fill you…get you relaxed.” 

You whine, releasing his head and gripping the sheets instead. He resumes his mission, alternating between kisses and licks until your hips are rolling against him—seeking more friction. He looks up at you as he licks a long stripe up to your clit then sucks—a pretty whine escaping your lips as you squirm against him. He grips your thighs as you rock against him, taking in the feeling of the girl he loved cumming against his face. Once you’ve come down from your high, he crawls over you—smiling at your fucked out expression. You look totally limp, relaxed and ready for him to feed you his cock. 

“You want me, baby? Tell me.” 

Your eyes flutter open, a soft smile pulling the corner of your lips up. “Want you, Min. Just you,” you sigh. 

He reaches down, pulling his cock from his underwear and wrapping his hand around the base. He leans on his elbow, palm cradling the side of your head as he keeps your attention on his face. “Look at me,” he says. “Keep your eyes on me.” 

You nod and he leans down, your soft lips pulling a low moan from him. He fucking loved you and now he was going to fill you. He huffs out a small laugh into your mouth then lifts his head, watching your eyes as he presses his tip to your entrance. He can feel how relaxed you are, making it easier for him to press in and out a few times—just the tip. He wants to say the words. Tell you he loves you as he presses into you for the first time. He doesn’t want to ruin it, freak you out. He can’t—

“Love you,” you whisper. 

He stops, his tip kissing your slippery entrance. “Wha-What?” he breathes. 

Your eyes drop from his. “Sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t…I wasn’t thinking.” 

“Look at me,” he says. You hesitate then meet his eyes again. He pushes forward, your tight walls pressing around him as he watches your expression. He pauses halfway. “I fucking love you,” he says, watching your eyes widen just as he pushes forward more, bottoming out. You whine, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down hard—forcing his face down into your shoulder. 

“Alright?” he asks, struggling to control his own breathing. You were so warm, and so fucking tight around him. He could stay like this forever. He wishes he would stay like this for fucking ever. You clench around him and he resists biting into your shoulder, an embarrassingly high moan escaping his throat instead.

“Say it again,” you gasp, arms tightening around him. He smiles. Joy. 

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