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wholoveseggs · 2 days ago

Note

I just read your latest fic and omg! I love your writing style and the way you write the reader as a virgin is chefs kiss! Okay now I feel like we need a Klaus x virgin!Reader fic from you to complete the set. I don't have any ideas on the scenario so hopefully your brilliant mind can come up with something or you can combine it with another request? But can the reader be like 25+ (only because that's around the age that I imagine Klaus to be) and life just happened and life with the Original Vampires never really left room for relationships and she didn't want to just fuck some random stranger for her first time?

Dreams

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Klaus Mikaelson x f!reader} A drunken confession leads to an unexpected night with Klaus, where fantasy blurs into reality, and your first time becomes unforgettable.

♡♡ thanks for the request beautiful anon!!! &&.. you are right I have to complete the set ~xo ♡♡

3.9k words - Warnings: smuttt, first time, virgin!reader, teasing, oral sex (f!receiving), drunk Rebekah, sex dream confessions, reader insecurity && Klaus being sweet...

“I swear on my eternity, I won’t tell a soul,” Rebekah promised, eyes wide and wine-glossed.

You squinted at her. “You said that last time.”

“That was about stealing from Elijah’s wine stash. This is your sex life. Entirely different. Totally private.” She drained the dregs of her glass, then held it out. You refilled it, trying not to roll your eyes.

“What sex life?” You muttered.

Rebekah gave you a look, all wide-eyed and scandalised, “You mean to tell me,” she began, dramatically setting her wineglass down like the stem offended her, “you’ve never...wait. Not even once?”

You groaned, already regretting everything. “Can we not...”

“Not even a casual drunken hookup?” she pressed, scandalized. “You’re twenty-seven.”

“Exactly. And busy. And constantly surrounded by immortal egomaniacs with god complexes,” you muttered, sinking deeper into the couch cushions. “Not exactly a dating pool.”

“And yet,” she said, one brow arching like a knife, “you’ve had plenty of time to dream about my brother bending you over every surface in the compound.”

Your mouth dropped open. “What did you just say? You said you wouldn't tell anyone about that!"

Rebekah shrugged, a mischievous smile playing over her lips. "It was a slip of the tongue."

You groaned again.

She nudged your ankle with her bare foot. "Don't be embarrassed. It's actually rather endearing that you've got such a schoolgirl crush."

"It's not a crush. I don't know what it is," you confessed. "They just happen, okay? It's not like I want them to. But the suddenly he's there, and the next thing I know... he's not wearing any clothes, and we're kissing, and-"

"Okay," Rebekah interrupted, "you don't have to go into detail. I'm quite certain I can imagine what happens next."

"Well, that makes one of us."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't have any idea what the rest of it would feel like," you said, voice small. You picked up the bottle and took a swig straight from it.

Rebekah gave you a sympathetic look, reaching for your hand. "I'm sure you'll find a lovely guy soon enough… and have lots of sex."

"Whose having lots of sex?"

You froze, bottle still tilted in your hand.

Rebekah went very still beside you. Her grip on your fingers tightened just slightly..whether in apology or panic, you couldn’t tell.

Slowly, mechanically, you turned your head toward the sound of Klaus’s voice.

He stood in the doorway to the parlour, arms folded loosely over his chest, one brow lifted in open amusement. His curls were tousled, his shirt half-unbuttoned, and his smile... that was the real danger. Lazy, knowing, smug. The kind of smile a man wore when he already knew the answer to the question he’d just asked.

“Rebekah?” he prompted, his gaze flicking to his sister, who stared back at him like a deer caught in vampire headlights.

She cleared her throat. “Oh, you know. Just girl talk.”

He stepped further into the room, his gaze settling on you. You looked away, pretending to be fascinated by a loose thread in the cushion beside you. He chuckled and flopped down beside Rebekah, sprawling his legs out, taking up every inch of space, a king on his throne.

For a moment, there was silence, punctuated by the faint sounds of jazz music spilling through the windows and the clink of the bottle against your teeth as you took another sip.

You set the bottle down a little too hard. “I should go.”

Rebekah gave a weak little laugh, clearly trying to help but already retreating. “Oh, don’t be dramatic-”

“No, really,” you cut in, rising so quickly your foot caught on the edge of the rug. You stumbled, recovered, didn’t look at either of them. “It’s late. I’m tired. And apparently incapable of keeping my mouth shut when wine is involved.”

Rebekah made a soft, protesting sound, but didn’t move to stop you. And you rushed towards the front door as fast as you could without looking like a total fool.

A shadow flickered at the edge of your vision, and you turned, pulse skipping. A figure leaned against the doorframe, arms folded, mouth quirked up in a knowing smile.

Klaus. Of course it was Klaus.

He blocked the way. The hallway felt suddenly narrower, the air heavier, as you came to a stumbling halt. Your cheeks burned, your heart pounding. He raised an eyebrow, smile deepening. He had a dimple. Somehow, it only made him more handsome.

"Running away, love?" he asked, tone smooth as silk.

"No." You answered too quickly, voice tight. "Just tired. Need sleep. Goodnight."

He did not move. Instead, his smile widened. You stepped sideways, trying to slip past, but he shifted effortlessly, mirroring you. Casual. Precise. Unyielding.

Your glare sharpened, but he only looked more amused.

"What?" you snapped, folding your arms.

"Are you really leaving because of what I overheard?"

You stared at him, defiant but humiliated. "What do you think?"

"I think there is no need to be embarrassed," he said, voice low and husky.

"Embarrassed?" You let out a weak laugh, shifting again, eyes darting toward the exit he was blocking.

“There is nothing wrong with a healthy sex drive, sweetheart.”

“There is also nothing wrong with wanting to die when someone overhears you talking about said sex drive.”

He chuckled and stepped closer.

Your back hit the wall. The impact was gentle, but it still made you flinch. You stiffened, shoulders locking, spine straightening as if you could will yourself invisible. You refused to shrink away.

Klaus stopped in front of you, gaze locked to yours. “Nothing to be embarrassed about, little dreamer,” he said, voice like smoke curling through the dark.

You swallowed hard. The heat in your face crept down your throat, coiling in your chest and belly. Every inch of you felt laid bare.

“Please move.”

“In a minute.”

“Nik.”

He leaned in, his face impossibly close, his lips almost brushing your cheek. “I'll tell you a secret,” he said. “If you stop blushing and look me in the eyes.”

You hesitated, then obeyed. Slowly, you lifted your gaze. His eyes burned into yours and he smiled, slow and sweet. The kind of smile that could undo you.

“Better.”

You felt your breath catch. “What is your secret?” you whispered.

“I have had dreams about you too.” His fingers found your jaw and traced the line of it, featherlight. “About this pretty mouth. These soft hands. What I might find if I peeled off all your layers and tasted the skin beneath.”

“Stop,” you said, but there was no force behind it. Your voice cracked. Your face burned. You could barely breathe.

He did not laugh. He did not push. He just watched you.

His eyes searched yours, then dropped briefly to your mouth. “Why have you never done it?” he asked, voice quieter now, stripped of any teasing.

You blinked. “What?”

Klaus tilted his head, expression softer than you had ever seen it. “You said you have never had sex. Not even once. Why?”

Your throat tightened. “I don’t know. Life. Bad timing. Shitty options.” You shrugged. “And maybe…” You hesitated. “Maybe I didn’t want my first time to be with someone who’d forget it five minutes later.”

Klaus’ smirk faded... not all the way, but enough that something earnest slipped through. Something sharp. “And you think I would?”

You looked up at him then, finally. He was watching you carefully. No teasing. Just quiet, simmering intensity.

“I don’t know what you’d do.”

He reached out, brushing his knuckles gently along your cheek. “Then let me show you.”

You swallowed.

He stepped closer, his palm curving over your cheek, tilting your head up, forcing you to meet his eyes. He was smiling again, but there was something different about it. Something gentler.

"I would never disrespect your trust, sweetheart," he promised, thumb tracing the curve of your lower lip. "Nor would I ever treat the privilege of being your first anything lightly."

"And you..." Your voice faltered, but his touch was warm, and his gaze was steady. "You won't ...tell anyone? About any of this?"

He smiled. "I wouldn't dare."

"Okay," you whispered, and his lips were suddenly so close, and his arms were slipping around you, and you could smell the spice of his cologne and the sweetness of bourbon and feel the warmth of his breath.

"Okay," he echoed, his lips brushing yours, then his tongue, teasing your mouth open, tasting you. You gasped, and he made a soft, satisfied sound, pressing closer, his body molding to yours.

"Is this alright, love?" he murmured, one hand sliding down your spine, curving over the swell of your ass.

You nodded.

"Need to hear you say it, sweetheart," he said.

You swallowed, meeting his eyes. "Yes."

He smiled and kissed you again, his hands seeking yours, fingers intertwining. Then he broke the kiss, gently tugging you by the hand as he led you down the hall. His room was dim, draped in shadows. You saw glimpses of a large bed, an easel, a wall of books.

Then the door closed, and it was just you and him.

You hesitated, not sure what to do, how to move. He seemed to understand, reaching for you again, gathering you close to him by the waist.

"Relax," he said, kissing the side of your neck. "Your heart is racing."

You laughed weakly. "Can't really help it."

"Do I scare you?"

"No," you answered, a little too quickly.

He smirked, catching the lie.

"It's just..." You shrugged, feeling like a silly little girl. "This is a big deal."

"It is," he agreed.

"But I... I'm not completely clueless. I mean, I have internet. And books. And..." You blushed, realizing you were rambling.

Klaus's expression was somewhere between amused and fond. He leaned in and kissed the corner of your mouth.

"Sweetheart, I am well aware of the fact that you've spent an indecent amount of time imagining me naked and writhing on top of you."

You blushed hotly. "I was not -"

He chuckled and began to back you towards the bed, his hands skimming your waist, the curve of your hips. "I know the sorts of things that are on your mind," he murmured.

You stumbled, falling back against the mattress, and he followed you down, covering your body with his, surrounding you in heat and skin and steady breath. One of his hands braced by your head, the other slipping beneath you to curve around your hip, grounding you.

You tilted your chin and met his mouth again before he could say something else smug. He hummed against your lips, amused but pleased, letting you set the pace for a few heartbeats. Then he caught your lower lip between his teeth and nipped gently, his hand sliding up the hem of your shirt, spreading heat across your stomach.

"Still okay, sweetheart?" He whispered.

"Mhm," you managed, gasping when his teeth grazed the delicate shell of your ear.

He leaned back, just far enough to tug off his shirt. You bit your lip, tracing the shape of the tattoo, heat creeping through you, pooling between your thighs. He watched you, his gaze warm, his eyes bright. He smiled when he caught you staring at the trail of hair that led down his stomach, disappearing into the waistband of his jeans.

"Now your turn," he said.

You hesitated, heart fluttering, a sudden spike of nervousness. But Klaus didn't rush you. Just waited, smiling, patient and steady.

Slowly, you reached for the bottom of your shirt and tugged it over your head.

His breath caught.

His pupils dilated.

And then, slowly, his hand found yours again. "May I?"

You nodded.

His knuckles traced the curve of your jaw, then brushed lightly along the hollow of your throat. Slowly, slowly, slowly, his palm flattened against the space between your collarbones, the tips of his fingers dipping beneath the edge of your bra.

Your breath hitched.

"So soft," he murmured. His fingers slid over the swell of your breasts, then down, finding the catch. You heard the fabric tear and felt the lace pull free, the sudden rush of cool air and warmth from his hands making you gasp.

Klaus groaned, leaning down, his breath ghosting across your bare chest. "You are the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on," he murmured. Then his mouth was closing over your nipple, and you arched against him, moaning.

"You like that?" he asked, his tongue flicking the hard little nub.

"Mmmhm."

He chuckled, then sucked gently.

You whimpered, squirming.

"Still okay, love?" He asked, pausing, his eyes flicking up to meet yours.

"Don't stop."

"Bossy," he teased, smirking, moving to the other side.

He lavished the same attention there, his tongue swirling, his lips tugging, his hand stroking the underside, squeezing, massaging. You moaned and whimpered, clutching his hair, arching up against him, seeking pressure, friction. He pressed closer, you could feel his erection straining against the denim, his hips moving in time with his tongue.

He kissed the soft valley between your breasts, then began to trail his mouth lower, leaving a burning path in his wake. He pulled your jeans down with agonizing slowness, his mouth following, until his lips were at the apex of your thighs. Your hands clutched the sheets, breath catching as the tension that had been building all night surged forward all at once. Pure need, panic, heat, all tangled together in your chest.

“Nik...wait.”

He froze instantly. His hands paused on your hips, his mouth barely brushing your inner thigh.

His head lifted. “Too fast?”

You shook your head. “No. I just…” You swallowed. “You don’t have to do that.”

A wicked grin spread across his face. He leaned down, nuzzling the damp spot on your panties, his stubble grazing the sensitive skin.

“Oh, sweetheart.” His voice dropped, rough and low. “Who told you that?”

You tried to sit up, flustered. “It’s just...I know that’s not always... expected. Especially for a first time.”

Klaus moved before you could finish the thought, pushing you back down. He moved slowly, deliberately, crawling back up the length of your body, pinning you beneath him, his lips brushing yours.

“You think I brought you here, laid you out on my bed, listened to those little noises you make...” his hips rolled gently into yours, enough for you to feel the thick press of him through his jeans, “...just to skip the part where I get to taste you?"

He kissed you again, his tongue parting your lips, his teeth grazing, nipping, sucking. You moaned into his mouth, and he rolled his hips against yours again, harder.

"Do you like the way I taste?" He asked, his voice a low purr.

You nodded, dizzy, unable to think.

"So why wouldn't I want the same?" He whispered, kissing a trail down your jaw, your neck, your chest, settling back between your thighs. "Why wouldn't I want to know what you taste like when you come on my tongue?"

Your whole body burned. You stared at him, unable to form words.

He smiled. Slowly, deliberately, he hooked his thumbs under the waistband of your panties and pulled them down, sliding them past your knees, tossing them carelessly over his shoulder.

You felt his breath, hot and gentle, on your bare skin.

"So beautiful," he murmured. His hands parted your thighs, revealing the most intimate parts of you, all slick and swollen and wanting.

He made a low, hungry sound, then dragged his tongue through the length of you, looking up at you from beneath those lashes.

"That's it," he murmured. "Look at me. Look at what I'm doing to you."

You kept your eyes open, heavy, hooded, watching his tongue slide through you again, and again, his lips closing over your clit, sucking gently, his tongue swirling, his stubble rubbing. It was too much, the sight of him, the sound of him, the smell of him, the feel of him. You felt like you were unraveling.

He made a soft, humming sound. His hand left your thigh, his fingers sliding inside you. Your head fell back, your eyes squeezing shut, a broken moan leaving your throat.

"Keep looking, love," he said.

You managed to open your eyes, looking down the length of your body at him. His eyes were bright, focused, fixed on you. His mouth was curled in a smile, his tongue still tracing the hard little bud between your legs. Your body responded, bucking, twisting, writhing, pleasure rolling through you in waves, growing stronger, hotter.

"Oh," you gasped. "Oh, god."

"No," he murmured. "Just Klaus."

He pressed deeper, crooked his fingers, and you were gone. Your head fell back, the pleasure crashing over you, drowning you. Your whole body tensed, trembled, your thighs clamped down on either side of his head. He kept working you through it, his tongue still swirling, his fingers pumping, dragging out the release until you were boneless and limp, sinking into the mattress.

Klaus rose, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, a wolfish smile playing across his lips. "Delicious," he purred.

You managed a weak smile, your cheeks burning, your breathing still coming in ragged, shallow gasps. He sat back on his knees, his hands working at the button on his jeans.

"I can-" You began, trying to push yourself up.

"Shhh," he soothed, "I've got it, love. Lie back. Relax."

"But…"

"If I let you touch me now, I won't last long," he confessed, pushing the denim and his boxers down his hips, revealing all of himself. You were momentarily distracted by the flex of muscle, the perfect expanse of warm skin pressing into yours.

Then his hands were back on your thighs, spreading you open, positioning himself. You felt the blunt head of him slide through your wetness, and you gasped. You had imagined this moment. Dreamed of it an embarrassing amount of times. Woken up sweaty and panting, aching between your legs, wishing he were there to take care of it. And now, finally, you were going to get the chance to feel him. To really feel him.

"Look at me," he said, his hand cupping your cheek.

Your eyes flicked up to his.

"Breathe."

You took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to relax.

"That's it," he praised, pressing deeper. He was beautiful, his chest and shoulders flexing, muscles coiled and trembling, the effort of being gentle written in the lines on his forehead.

You felt a twinge of pain, a pinch, then the ache and stretch as your body yielded to him, the pressure and the heat, the sensation of fullness. You gasped, and his hand found yours, tangling your fingers together. He pressed a little deeper, his teeth scraping over the delicate curve where your neck met your shoulder. You whined, clutching at him.

"Easy," he soothed, "you're doing so well, love. So good."

Your cheeks flushed, a strange swell of pride blooming in your chest. You tilted your head, exposing more of your neck.

"Please," you gasped.

"Please, what?"

"Kiss me."

"Like this?" His lips ghosted over your collarbone, his lips curving upward. "Right here?"

"No. Yes. Higher."

"Here?" His lips skimmed the hollow of your throat, his smile growing.

You let out a soft, impatient whine.

"Or here?" He kissed the corner of your mouth, smiling, smug.

You made a soft, frustrated sound and caught his mouth, kissing him hungrily. He made a pleased hum and returned the kiss, his tongue stroking, his teeth nipping, his lips claiming. His hips rolled gently, and you gasped.

"That's it," he purred.

You moaned, your legs wrapping around him, drawing him deeper, wanting more. He gave a breathless laugh, and moved faster, the pace changing, deepening, until his hips were slamming into yours, the room filling with the sounds of skin on skin, his low, guttural groans, the high, breathless sounds spilling from your own lips.

The pressure was building fast. Too fast, too strong. Your body felt like it couldn’t contain it, like everything inside you was tightening, winding tighter with every thrust, every graze of his chest against your breasts, every filthy word murmured against your skin.

Your nails dug into his back, and his fingers found your clit again, circling fast and perfect.

"Yes, love, that's it, just like that."

That did it.

You shattered.

The orgasm hit like lightning. Sharp, consuming, full-body. You cried out, legs tightening around him, entire body shaking as the waves crashed through you.

Klaus groaned into your mouth, slamming into you one last time before he spilled inside you with a curse and a growl that sounded like it had been pulled from the pit of his chest. His whole body shuddered, muscles flexing, arms locked around you as he buried his face in your neck, his mouth sucking a mark into the soft, delicate skin, his breath warm and ragged against you.

The room was quiet after that, nothing but the sound of his breath and yours, the distant rumble of a passing car, the ticking of a clock. You felt drunk, your body heavy and warm and sated, your head spinning. Klaus rolled to the side, his arm still thrown over your middle. He tugged you closer, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You blinked up at him, dazed. “I think you scrambled my brain.”

He laughed.

Your cheeks burned, and you buried your face against his chest.

He caught your chin, forcing you to look at him. He was grinning, and his cheeks were flushed. He leaned in, kissing you again, the smile never fading.

"So," he said, when he pulled away, his hand tracing lazy circles along your back. "Any regrets?"

You shook your head.

He grinned, and rolled on top of you, pinning you beneath him, his hands finding yours.

"Good," he said, kissing your nose. "Because we're only just getting started."

You swallowed. "Only?"

"Well, you have a lot to catch up on, sweetheart."

You laughed, breathless and still a little dazed. "God, what have I gotten myself into?"

Klaus smirked and leaned in, brushing his lips over your cheek. “Something far better than your dreams.”

Sleep came fast after that. Your body blissed-out and warm, your mind wrapped in the steady rhythm of his breath against your back. When you stirred hours later, the room was bathed in soft morning light. The air smelled faintly of coffee and cologne.

You blinked, eyes adjusting, and found him across the room, sitting in a chair by the window, shirtless, hunched over a sketchpad.

His hand moved in sure strokes, charcoal-stained fingers dancing. His eyes lifted when he felt you watching and a slow smile spread across his face.

“Caught me,” he murmured.

You stretched beneath the covers, muscles deliciously sore. “What are you drawing?”

He flipped the pad closed with a flick. “A keepsake,” he said. “For me.”

You raised a brow. “You don’t want to show me?”

He stood, crossing to the bed, placing the sketchpad face-down on the nightstand. Then he leaned over, his palm skimming along your hip, the sheets slipping away as his lips found yours.

“I’ll show you someday. But first...breakfast, a bath, and perhaps... round two?”

You flushed, smiling helplessly as he pressed you back against the pillows. "Are you always this demanding?"

He nipped your lip and tugged on it, his hand slipping lower. "Not at all, sweetheart. Usually I'm worse."

#lissasmikaelsonweek #klaus mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #vampire diaries #tvdu #klaus mikaelson smut #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson imagine #tvd #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine

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asadsadlittleman · 1 day ago

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"I'm so normal about this" IM NOT!!!! IM ABNORMAL ABOUT THIS. IM STRANGE AND UNUSUAL ABOUT THIS. IM DOWNRIGHT ABSURD ABOUT THIS. IVE BEEN CALLED PECULIAR ABOUT THIS ACTUALLY.

Anyways I don't think I'll ever experience something as great as being a fifteen year old watching this show for the second time, slowly understanding more about my own sexuality based on the visceral reactions I have to the Situations in this show.

Buffy is such a relatable character because I too would sit on spike at any given opportunity

#the way he looks up at her tho #they have a whole conversation just there like that #twice #btvs #spuffy #buffy the vampire slayer #spike x buffy #buffy summers #embarrassing freak couple #ngl the difference between spike and rileys dynamics with her were a huge factor in my realizing that I don't enjoy the act of sex #as much as I do the preamble that challenges conventional dynamics and makes us both question our preconceived ideas of who the other is #but like in a hot way

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kaysfanficcorner · 1 day ago

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The Camgirl and the Millionaire, Part 2

Pairing: Harry Castillo x Camgirl Reader

Summary: You tell Harry what you don't do for a living, and the charity concert heats things up a bit.

Author's Note: Oh my goodness, I was not expecting to post the second part to this immediately after posting part one. But it was already written and I was happy with it so here ya go! Thank you for the love and support on part one, your interaction with that introductory chapter means the world to me! I am so stoked to share what I have planned for these two, and I'm aiming to tie this up as a neat little five part fic. But, I have a tendency to go overboard and find excuses to make my fics longer (looking at you, Out of This World), so we shall see if I can stick to that or not!

I want to go ahead and warn that I am not a fluent Spanish speaker. A novice at best. But, my partner and I are casually learning the language and there are a few moments involving Spanish in this chapter. Part two is heavily influenced by my obsession with a certain Latin American artist (you'll see), and so I make a reference to some lyrics. I did my best to ensure that the translations are accurate. I love the language and I would like to do it justice if I am going to reference it in my work.

Song Inspiration

Warnings: Drinking; Smoking THC; Harry is a little intoxicated and horny; Reader is too; Lying is stressful and bad, don't lie if you like someone a lot; Reader is bisexual; More descriptions of Reader's cam sessions; Cursing; Grinding; Kissing; Dancing; A little dirty talk; No Smut yet but we are edging towards it.

Minors DNI; Strictly 18+

Ao3

*****

Harry’s body is close to yours as you lean your back against the wall in a semi secluded corner of the venue. Sipping your drink, the third one since you started talking to him nearly forty-five minutes ago, any trepidation you felt about him before has left your person for the time being. The job subject hasn’t come up again. Instead you were able to slyly gloss over it, starting a new conversation by asking him his favorite thing about life in New York, and then things evolved from there.

You’re both about to need a fourth drink by the looks of each nearly empty glass, but you’re not so sure if a fourth drink is a great idea. Harry seems to be holding his liquor just fine, but you’re a pot smoker at heart and you don’t normally drink this much. You know you’re tipsy, and you don’t want to take things too far and risk ruining the night for yourself. Vanessa never came back, and you’re not sure how she’ll react to know you’ve been getting semi drunk with a stranger. Then again, she’s been practically begging you to try and meet someone ever since she and Charles got together. Who knows, maybe she’ll be thrilled.

All you know is, you’ll be thanking her later when the two of you eventually make it back home. Harry Castillo is much better company than that silly vampire prince.

You’re too lost in watching the skin around his eyes wrinkle with laughter at the dumb joke you just made a moment ago, and the beautiful dramatic curve of his broad nose when he turns his head to look briefly at the empty stage. He’s gorgeous from every angle, but that side profile of his is something else entirely. And his laugh? What a gift that sound is.

“Are you listening?” The man you're mesmerized with asks as his chuckles fizzle out and he looks you up and down, brow lifting. “I asked you a question and you just stared at me.”

“Honestly, no. I wasn’t listening. You’re a little distracting when I’ve had three vodka sodas with generous pours. Have I told you that you’re handsome, Harry?” You’re unable to stop yourself as your hand lifts up and you run three manicured fingers through the hair just above his ear. You’re careful not to mess it up too much, and you revel in the softness of it.

Harry leans down, mouth hovering six or so inches from yours as his brown eyes bore into you. “Have I told you that you’re beautiful?”

Your chest swells and your stomach flutters at the question, lifting up towards him slightly. It would be so easy to kiss him, and it would also be utterly insane. Instead you force yourself not to.

“Can we get some air? It suddenly feels like a million degrees. I guess I need to pace myself with these.” As you say that last sentence, you lift up your empty glass and send him an embarrassed little look while you shake it about and let the ice clink around.

Harry’s eyes darken slightly with a vaguely lusty countenance, his free hand coming to rest on the wall right behind your head as he grins down at you. “I don’t think it's the booze heating things up in here. I could use to cool-off as well.”

With that, his hand slides from the wall and his fingers graze the side of your neck. A shiver runs up your spine as those fingers delicately run along the line of your jaw, before the tip of his index finger curls just under your chin. A small bit of pressure from him and you’re lifting up even more to meet him. You’re sure he’s going to kiss you for a moment, but then he simply shakes his head as if he cannot believe the sight before his eyes.

“You really are beautiful.”

Finger leaving your chin, his arm is suddenly weaving through yours, hooking at the elbow as he begins to pull you towards the huge glass doors of the terrace. Along the way you both discard your empty drinks, and then he’s leading you out into the warm summer night air. The two of you have the terrace all to yourselves, as everyone else seems to be inside anticipating the concert to begin at any moment.

“Do you smoke?” You ask him, squinting a little as you gauge his reaction.

“I used to smoke cigarettes. Quit in my thirties.” Harry shrugs, eyeing you for a moment before looking out at the surrounding city.

The view is pretty spectacular, and the night sky is as clear as it can be in a city this large. There’s a full moon peeking out from just behind the tallest building you can see at this angle. It’s picturesque, but none of that really matters right now in his presence.

Pulling the thin little dab pen from your small black purse, you hold the sleek looking thing to your lips and take a long, satisfying drag. He looks back at you just as you decide to blow it out, so the vapor leaves your mouth through a sly grin as you hold the pen out to him. “What about weed?”

Brows raising, he takes the pen from you and lets his warm fingers linger against yours for a long moment. That’s practically enough to make you dizzy.

“Occasionally. Usually in more private settings and not at an event like this. It’s expected that I keep up appearances, you know.” Harry examines the thing, then he puts the mouthpiece to his plump lips and pulls a hefty drag of his own.

God what you wouldn’t give to bite that bottom lip of his, body heating up as you watch the black plastic tip of the device rest indented against the pouty pink flesh there. A moment later he lets the vapor go with a sputtering, wide-eyed cough.

“Easy. Down, boy,” the phrase leaves your mouth along with a fit of giggles as you smack him lightly on the back.

“Jesus,” Harry blurts out between coughs, “you did that like a pro. I feel like a blundering novice.”

“I’m a seasoned veteran,” you say with a small bow, fully aware of the cleavage shot you’re gracing him with as you take the pen back.

“Apparently so,” Harry says with a chuckle, eyes lingering on your offered chest for a moment. “God, my throat burns.”

You frown a little, not wanting to have hurt him. “Yeah, sorry. Vapes are kind of awful. But they do nicely in a pinch, or when I’m out and about like this.”

“So you go out often, then? Just not in the circles I run in, I suppose.”

“I can’t say that Van and I spend a lot of time with late forties businessmen, no.”

“I wish I didn’t. What kinds of circles do you run in, then?” As he asks this question, another more important question seems to dawn on him. A wild look of realization washes over his face. The dab pen certainly made him a bit more emotive, and you can’t help but find it endearing. “Oh! Do you have a boyfriend?”

A giddy little smirk finds your lips, happy to know that’s a concern of his. “No boyfriend. No girlfriend. No relationship. And, honestly, not that many circles. I have a handful of friends, but usually I enjoy doing things on my own most of the time. Reading, going to the movies, making food.”

Harry’s lovely brown eyes, red and squinting now, widen comically as a look of stoned pleasure takes over his handsome features. After that, his facial muscles relax considerably. You know he’s feeling high when a warm hum escapes him as he says, “Mm, nice. I love movies. And books. And food.” Then his eyes grow even wider, as if he just remembered that food even exists. “Oh my god. I love food. We should get food after this. Something greasy?”

Harry’s enthusiasm sends you over with giggles, shaking your head at your handsome new friend. Clearly he doesn’t smoke as much as you do. “I’d get food with you, Harry. Who doesn’t love food?”

“Weirdos, I’m sure,” he chuckles confidently, smiling at you. “Do you speak Spanish?” He asks, suddenly changing the subject as he leans an elbow over the railing. “I got the impression that your roommate does.”

You nod, “She’s Mexican, so good call. It was her first language. I’m not fluent or anything but I’ve spent so much time with her that I can understand it much better than I can speak it. We watch a lot of Spanish language films together, and she’s influenced most of my current taste in music. But even still, I get so nervous that my accent is atrocious.”

“Say something in Spanish,” he softly commands, nodding once with more of that charming confidence of his. He’s going to send you over the edge just by existing, you just know it. There’s a gorgeous view of the city you love so much behind him, but he’s the only thing you can see right now.

Stoned and nervous, you hide your face in your hands and say the first thing that comes to mind, “ Frijoles negros .”

Harry barks with laughter and embarrassment immediately floods your system. You frown, looking down at the street below for a second.

Harry seems to notice this, shaking his head and smiling at you fondly with reddened, squinting eyes. “Hey, no. I didn’t mean to laugh. Your accent is actually lovely. You should feel more confident in your Spanish. I just wasn’t expecting you to say black beans. ”

Shaking your head with a laugh, it’s a relief to know he wasn’t picking on you. You feel brave enough to shove him in the upper arm, deciding to use a term that Vanessa throws around a lot. “Yeah, well, you didn’t have to put me on the spot like that, cabrón. ”

He laughs even harder for a moment. Then a sudden look of realization washes over his face, and his brow furrows. “I just remembered. You never did tell me what you do for a living.”

There it is. He slipped it in so perfectly after your guard had fallen so far down.You nearly choke on the next hit of the dab pen, sputtering as you let the vapor leave your lungs and hand it over to Harry once more.

Recovering, you try your best to smile and act as if that had simply been a cough. “Well,” you begin, prolonging the inevitable even more, “I’m a little embarrassed to admit that I’m a college dropout with no degree from a poor family. School wasn’t for me. Couldn’t afford it and didn’t apply myself so I stopped before I put myself in debt for no reason. After that I moved here to become an actress. That was a little over a decade ago. Acting didn’t work out, but that was never really my dream. This city was my true dream, and that part did work out eventually.”

He hits the pen twice more and hands it back, his handsome voice taking on a serious tone. “I don’t care if you have a college degree. Life is what teaches us how to live, not some expensive school. I was fortunate to have the money for that kind of an education, but ultimately my path was picked out for me regardless of my schooling. I learned how to do what I do by spending summers working as my mother’s assistant. Whatever you do, you don’t need to feel embarrassed about it.”

“Ha,” you scoff, looking away from him momentarily. “I usually don’t. In front of you, I do. You’re a little intimidating, Harry.”

Harry frowns, most likely at your continued reluctance to tell him. “Sorry, I don’t mean to pry so much. You really do intrigue me, that’s all.”

With a wave of the hand you try to brush that statement off. But inside you’re screaming with joy that a man of his caliber is saying things like that to you. “I’m really not that interesting.”

“Now that’s simply not true. Because girls like you don’t come to things like this. Your jewelry, for example.” Harry reaches his right hand towards the left side of your face, his thick index finger hooking behind your dangling earring. His eyes cast down at it for a long moment, and the most adorable little grin finds his lips. “I’ve never met a girl who wears bat earrings before. Especially not in the beginning of June, to an event like this. But it’s tasteful, and it fits your look very well.”

With a shrug, your left hand lifts to graze his wrist. “You can’t blame an ex-goth for hanging on to her old aesthetic a little bit, can you?”

Harry surprises you then by grabbing your fingers, bringing them up to meet his lips, kissing the matching ring. “That, I cannot.”

He nods thoughtfully, holding your hand close to his mouth. Close enough you can feel his warm breath. “You seem to have money despite your background. More so than your friend. The way you carry yourself suggests that this is a recent development in your life. I’m old money. New money is easy enough to sniff out when you’ve been stuck around these people your whole life. Maybe only a year or so for your financial success?”

“About two,” you blurt out, hand darting out of his grasp, flying to your lips.

You stupid stupid bitch! Shut UP!

You’ve already said far too much to this man and if you’re not careful you could ruin what is turning out to be a beautiful evening. Normally you’re not shy about your profession. You’ve told plenty of the men and women you’ve casually dated over the last two years. You’re not ashamed of what you do when you’re talking to someone on your level, but you’ve never even been close to these kinds of people before tonight.

To put it plainly, you simply enjoy expensive things because you had to grow up wanting for so much and having so little. Somehow you managed to find a job you genuinely enjoy, which allows for you to have the money to afford the life of casual luxury you always wished for. That doesn’t mean you look to surround yourself with other wealthy people. Most of your friends are still starving artists much like Vanessa. The fact that he called himself ‘old money’ just now is proof enough that he was born on a different plane of existence.

Harry Castillo is so incredibly far above you on the food chain when it comes to New York City’s elite. He could chew you up and spit you out if you let him. Someone of his social stature could never know the truth about what you do and look at you the same way. You’re certain of it.

If he knew that this time last night, instead of a designer dress, all you had on your body, or in your body rather, was a jeweled plug and a ring gag. If he knew there had been a weighted chain connected to both of your expertly hidden nipple piercings. If he knew that while you facefucked yourself with a pretty pink dildo, a much older and much less attractive man than Harry was fucking himself with a fleshlight to it on the other side of the video feed. If he knew that right after the session you used your wand to give yourself a quiet, grunting orgasm as your well earned treat after faking a big loud one for your client… If he knew any of that , Harry Castillo may not think you’re as beautiful and intriguing as he does right now.

But he does think you’re beautiful and intriguing right now. He said so himself. And you haven’t said anything that could ruin your chances with him yet. So you scramble to think of something to say, and finally an idea comes to mind.

“I’m sorry I’m being so cagey about telling you. It’s just not something I like to discuss with someone I’ve only just met. I’m…,” your brain scrambles again, a split second of doubt stopping you from lying. But then the loosened inhibitions from the alcohol and smoke make you blurt out the only lie that makes any sense, and the decision is made.

“An author!”

It’s not a total lie. While you haven’t completed anything novel-length yet, a handful of your short stories have been featured in a few fetish zines and smut compilations. Real, published ones. You never see any real money from those ventures, but it still counts. Your Ao3 account has about twenty-five contributions. All you ever read is smutty romance. This is a subject you know enough about to craft a believable fib around it. Guilty as that makes you feel, given that this is the most you’ve liked someone new in a hot minute.

But, Harry Castillo comes off like a man you’ll never see again after tonight. So what’s a little white lie going to hurt in the grand scheme of things? The two of you are from completely different worlds. One night with a man like him is a blessing. Any more nights? That's asking for trouble.

His eyes light up at your not-true confession, lips spreading across his face in a wide, handsome grin.

Oh no. Perhaps you’ve been in trouble from the very start.

Harry’s so enthusiastic as he exclaims, “You have to let me read your work!”

You’re blushing, and sweating a bit. “Oh, that’s kind of you but I’m sure what I write is not your speed whatsoever.”

Harry’s firm on this, shaking his head once. “I insist. I’m going to look you up as soon as I go home.”

Is this man fucking real? There’s no way he exists in this realm.

“You won’t find me,” you say abruptly, quickly adding, “I use a pseudonym!”

He leans in, hovering close to your face as he pouts that damned lower lip ever so slightly. “Tell me your pseudonym? Please ?”

Your pulse quickens, palms moistening as you shake your head again. “I’d rather not, Harry.”

“Why? Do I make you nervous? I’m sure you’re a fine writer, and I’d like to see for myself.” Those big brown eyes are pleading with you, and it’s almost too much entirely. “At least tell me what genre you write in.”

“Uh, romance mostly,” you blurt out. “Like I said, not your speed.”

He shocks you when a bashful look crosses his features. “Actually, and please don’t out me for this, my guilty pleasure is romance. A night in with a bottle of wine and a steamy book or a sappy movie? Ideal. Please, let me read your work?”

Deflecting, you say, “My work is a little more intense than your mainstream romance. Steamy doesn’t even cut it.”

But Harry’s once again surprising you with his reaction. “Oh, really? You write erotica? Fascinating! Now I really must read something of yours.”

Your voice nearly waivers, but you hold fast. “ No , Harry.”

“Why not? Is it me?” Harry’s face falls, disappointment written all over him. A kind of shyness and vulnerability finds his voice, you’re certain of it.

You’re frowning, and for a split second you consider backtracking and telling him the truth. He really does seem to like you, and perhaps there’s a chance he would understand. But are you brave enough to take that chance?

No, evidently you’re a coward.

Fuck me, you think. And since you’d love for this night to end with Harry Castillo doing just that, you decide to speak from the heart as much as you can without revealing too much. The web of lies you’ve begun to weave is already starting to stress you out a little, so you take another decent puff on the dab pen and stick it back in your purse.

“It is you, but not because I don’t like you. It’s because that is a very personal part of me,” you say. Not a complete lie. Okay, good. Keep going. “The smut I write comes from my real deepest darkest desires.” Worried that what you just said sounds sketchy, you quickly recover by adding, “Kinky, but nothing worrisome. My stories are not just about sex, they’re about the love between the characters. Those bonds are sacred, fictional representations of what I eventually want for myself with a real partner. Forgive me if I don’t feel comfortable sharing that with you when I don’t know you very well and I certainly don’t know if I can trust you. Perhaps if I got to know you better I would eventually let you read my work. But as of right now I reserve the right to deny you access. That part of my life is very private, and the small amount of success I see from it allows me to afford the lifestyle I want to live. So it’s important that my two worlds don’t collide. My parents don’t even know. Neither does my sister and she thinks I tell her everything. They all think I gave up acting to do clerical work for a law firm that happens to pay really well.”

Harry stares at you for a long time, but then his furrowed brow softens and he nods. A little smile creeps onto his lips, and the distance between you feels lessened all of the sudden.

“You know,” he begins, a hand reaching up to move a curl from your eyes, the tips of his fingers finding your cheek, “that’s extremely fair. More than fair, actually. If you let me see you again after tonight I think I’ll make it my life’s work to earn that trust from you.”

Your breath hitches at such a forward statement, and you worry that you’re in much deeper shit than you meant to get yourself into. So much for never seeing him again after this.

Attempting to deflect again, you tell him, “Just know that’s not an easy task. A lot of walls to break down and all that.” As you say this, he's leaning forward even more.

His lips are hovering just an inch or so above yours. “I have walls of my own, you know. Everyone does. Totally normal.”

Just as your lips graze his ever so lightly, a huge uproar from inside the venue causes you both to jump apart in surprise. Then some dramatic strings begin to play, followed by the beat of a hiphop style track.

You shriek . Shrill and unforgiving. Harry winces at the sound of it. Without thinking, you grab Harry’s hand and begin yanking him towards the big glass doors you came out from.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! Oh my fucking GOD! Vanessa wasn’t making this up!”

*****

“Is that the secret musical guest?” Harry asks, brow to his hairline in surprise as he lets you pull him easily. He can’t quite make out the song, but people seem to be going crazy inside for whoever it is. Then he squints, as if that will help him to hear better, and that’s when Harry realizes that your pen made him much higher than he usually gets when he partakes in the indulgence of marijuana. The three drinks, not including the one he had before he ran into you, aren’t assisting him to feel very sober now either. His senses are on a bit of an overload, but it feels good at the same time. Then a familiar set of music notes hits his eardrum, and a deep male voice sings the word dime in Spanish twice and his jaw drops a little. “Wait. Is that… Bad Bunny? ”

The wild look you throw back at Harry is absolutely adorable. This is clearly the reason you came to this event in the first place, and suddenly your presence here makes a little more sense to him.

“It IS! Holy fuck I am going to lose my MIND. Please come dance with me, Harry. I like you and I want to experience this with you,” you plead back at him with a soft and genuine expression that melts every single part of Harry Castillo into a helpless goo.

As if he was going to choose to be anywhere else tonight after meeting you.

Your hand makes it to the doorknob, and as soon as you’ve pushed it open the cacophony from within is nearly too much. The screams from the crowd are more deafening than the music itself. The houselights have gone down and there’s a frenzy of new multicolored lights strobing Harry’s vision. It feels as if the two of you walked back inside to a completely separate event and Harry, for lack of a better term, feels high as balls.

Harry has to really focus on raising his loud enough voice to tell you, “Wow, I can’t believe the guest is someone I actually listen to!”

You turn to him, adorably wide-eyed as you yell back, “You like him too?!”

Harry nods, deciding that it’s time to be a gentleman and take the lead through the suddenly dense crowd. He switches things so that his hand is the one more in control of your now linked fingers, nodding down at you as he moves past and starts to lead you instead. “I do! One of my favorites!”

“I would have never guessed that in a million years!” You shout, expression dumbfounded. He frowns at you a little, mildly self conscious as he shouts back, “Why? Because I’m old?”

Harry feels relieved when that question seems to surprise you, and he loves the way you roll your eyes at him in a bratty sort of way, raising your voice to tell him, “You’re old-er, not old! And no, because you’re a fancy rich guy and this is not the kind of music fancy rich people listen to.”

“There’s more to me than meets the eye. And the pocketbook, for that matter,” Harry says, willing you to feel how true that statement is for him.

“Me too,” you concede, face softening.

The two of you lock eyes for a long moment, and Harry feels this swelling in his chest he’s never felt before. The pressure of it is nearly painful, but then it morphs into something else entirely as it unfurls through his being like a warm drink on a cold day spreading through his belly. He really must be more intoxicated than he realized.

What the hell was that?

*****

Harry leads you into the main room of the event space, and the crowd is literally losing their minds over the man sauntering across the stage with a microphone in his hand. As he spouts off lyrics in Spanish and the crowd joins in enthusiastically, a grin spreads across the musician’s handsome features. His stylish outfit is impeccable and his curly hair looks so soft, even at a distance. He’s more attractive in real life than you could have anticipated from pictures and music videos. But even still, he doesn’t hold a candle to the suave gentleman whose fingers are laced with yours. You’d thought Bad Bunny was going to be the one and only man holding your attention tonight, even back when it was still a huge possibility that Van was full of shit.

You hadn’t accounted for meeting Harry Castillo.

“Oh, fuck ,” you say to yourself, but loud enough for Harry to hear over all the noise. “I can’t believe it’s really Benito! This is not how I expected my day to go when I got up this morning!”

“Those are always the best days,” Harry responds, grinning as he yanks you forward more. “Do you want me to get you all the way down to the front? I’ll stay with you and keep you safe.”

“Please stay with me,” you agree, still marveling at the fact that there’s a man here who’s captivated your attention far more than the musician you came here to see.

Harry nods once and tightens his grip on your hand, starting to strongly push his way through the crowd onto the main dance floor. It’s such a contrast to how this place looked an hour ago, and seeing all of these stuffy people in fine clothing bump and grind is a sight you didn’t think you’d ever see. The energy feels like that of the raves you used to attend as a younger woman.

It takes a few moments, but eventually Harry’s able to shove his way through the various groups and couples and you’re right up in front of the small stage. A flash of familiar light pink to your right catches your attention, and you see Vanessa and Charles dancing together just beside you. Harry must have brought you to her on purpose. Good thing he’s tall enough to see over the crowd, because you never would have spotted her.

When Vanessa notices you, she lets go of Charles and flings herself into your arms with a girly, high-pitched squeal of delight.

“Thank you, bitch!” You scream to her, grinning like a madwoman.

“You’re welcome, bitch!” She screams back, and then, at no surprise to you at all, she presses her lips to yours in a quick but heated kiss. Her lips massage yours, uncaring if lipstick gets misplaced along the way. Just as your tongue flicks along the tip of hers, she breaks apart from you with a wink and a grin. You give her a disappointed little huff for ending that so quickly.

When you both notice Harry and Charles staring at the two of you with slack-jawed expressions, you and Vanessa both burst out into laughter. It’s all barely audible over the concert. The men lock eyes for a moment and then share a quick shrug of confused comradery, and at that moment Vanessa flings herself back into Charles’ arms. She’s definitely drunk, because drunk Vanessa’s favorite thing in the world is kissing. And she’s already got her tongue buried so deeply in Charles’ mouth that you’re sure word of their confirmed relationship will have spread around to all of their coworkers by morning. So much for secrets.

With a shake of the head you’re facing Harry again, and he’s looking down at you with lust in those inviting chocolate eyes of his.

Slightly dilated pupils land on your lips for a moment, and his tongue darts out from between his teeth to wet his own a little as he lifts his hand to his own face. When his tongue appears again not a moment later, this time to run slowly over the pad of his thumb, a distinct and familiar throbbing heats up between your legs. All at once you’re desperate to feel that tongue run slowly over your aching, needy nub.

Harry’s palm finds your cheek, and he swabs his moist thumb just below the corner of your mouth. You just knew some of Van’s pink lipstick had smeared onto you, which is surely in contrast to your own dark red lip liner look. As he wipes it away, you can’t help but think that if you were in a different setting you’d have half a mind to draw the appendage between your lips and show him just exactly what your intentions are with a move far too sultry for a public place.

You realize that you’re the one staring at his lips now, licking your own in anticipation. Once Harry’s finished ridding you of the unwanted lipstick, you nod at him in an attempt to give your silent approval if he truly wants to kiss you. A great thrill runs through you when he leans down and presses his lips to yours in response.

Finally , you think blissfully as your eyes close and your hands immediately find the lapel of his suit jacket, clinging to him for dear life. He tastes of whiskey and your dab pen, and his lips are so incredibly soft and inviting as you brazenly deepen the kiss with your own parting mouth. He lets you do it easily, and you’re so desperate to feel his warm tongue touch you anywhere if you can’t feel it touch you there .

His other hand flies to your waist, fingers gripping into the fabric of your dress. The two of you stay like that for a long moment, but then suddenly Harry is breaking the kiss, spinning you around to face forward towards the stage. His mouth is against your ear, “You came here to see him, so watch him. You can have plenty of me later. If you want me, of course.”

“I want you,” you breathe honestly, relishing in the truth of it. You feel his nose brush your bare shoulder, mustache tickling you before he presses a chaste kiss to the exposed flesh.

Harry’s hips find yours from behind, and his hands find generous amounts of your body to hold on to as the music really starts to flow through both of you. Song after song you and Harry move in sync.

Occasionally Vanessa comes back over and the two of you share a moment of joyful hip grinding, hands and lips briefly all over each other before she goes back to Charles. That only seems to rile your own dance partner up more.

Sometimes, much to your surprise when you first hear it, Harry dips his head in and you feel the rumble of him singing along to the lyrics as he presses into you. He hadn’t been full of shit when he said that this was music he actually listens to.

When Bad Bunny is halfway through HIBIKI , Harry has the audacity to sing the line “ b aby, te lo meto si me das permiso” which you know roughly translates to “baby, I'll give it to you if you give me permission.” The song itself is sexy sounding but angsty in content, and yet even still Harry is somehow masterfully using the promiscuous lyrics to his advantage. This man knows exactly what he’s doing. With his hot mouth up against your right lobe and what you’re sure is the beginnings of a hard on pressing just below the small of your back, you’re certain you’ve never wanted to fuck someone so bad in your entire life.

Then a line later, you can feel him slip the hairpin holding your bun from your head, and your hair falls down over your shoulders in a cascade of waves.

Harry’s hand moves the tresses off your right shoulder and his voice is in your ear, singing, “Jalarte po' el pelo, despeinarte toda, después te doy chavo pal′ beauticion.” With that he very gently tugs on the locks once, before running his fingers up under your hair to massage the back of your head. As Harry sings the next line after that, his other hand slyly slinks around to bunch up the fabric of your skirt and you feel his warm hand grazing your inner thigh. “En ese totito cabe perfecto mi bicho.”

Pull your hair, mess it up, then I'll give you money for a beautician. That little pussy fits my dick perfectly.

Thank god the venue is so loud that you’re probably actively getting hearing damage, because otherwise the moan which escapes your mouth would have probably drawn attention to the increasingly inappropriate dancing going on between you and Harry Castillo. A quick glance around the pit suggests that nearly everyone seems to be dancing like that, some not holding back whatsoever, and so you suppose what you and Harry are doing probably looks tame.

But it doesn’t feel tame. It feels like he’s tapped into that deeper part of you and you’re ready to let her out.

Mercifully or tragically, you’re not sure which, the music switches over from hip-grinding hiphop to hip-swaying salsa, and Harry’s grip on you eases up. Your skirt drops back down just past your knees and the spot where his hand was feels empty. Wishing to see his face again, you spin around in his arms so that his hands are practically cupping your ass.

You’re tired of shouting, so with hands on his broad shoulders you’re lifting up on your tiptoes to speak directly into his ear.

“Do you know how to salsa?” You ask.

He shakes his head, causing his earlobe to graze your lip. Then he’s brushing your hair to the side to speak in your ear again, “A little when I was a kid, but not really. I’d love to take lessons if I had a good dance partner.”

“I would too,” you agree, looking over where Vanessa and Charles are doing the moves perfectly. “Those two make me so fucking jealous, but don’t tell her I said that.”

“So I don’t have to worry about her stealing you away tonight?”

“Nah, Van is a very lovey dovey drunk and I am her very willing and bisexual best friend. Usually we’re out at a club when she’s like that and I’d rather have her kiss me than some skeezey dude who might want to roofie her drink. That’s her boyfriend, Charles, she’s dancing with. So I’m off the hook tonight.”

“Mm, good,” Harry breathes, smirking as his eyes flick down to your lips. “More for me, then.”

*****

A few songs and an encore later, your favorite musician is gone as quickly as he appeared, and the surrealness of the last nearly hour and a half washes over you just as the houselights wash over the dissipating crowd. You’re covered in sweat and so horny you’re sure you’re going to burst. Harry hasn’t left your side since the moment the two of you locked eyes at the bar, and after feeling him grind into you like that for so long you’re determined not to leave his side until you’ve been satiated. This man has you so feral for him that you’re not even processing the fact that you just got to see your dream musical performance.

He’s ditched his suit jacket, keeping it flung over one shoulder as he guides you away from the stage with a hand on your moist back. Vanessa and Charles are following close behind, attempting to keep their hands to themselves now that their coworkers can see them. You’re dying to tell her that ship has already sailed, but they can figure that out for themselves.

“I can’t believe that just happened,” you marvel, ears ringing in the quiet left behind from the show.

Harry smiles at you fondly, “I’m glad I didn’t leave when I was going to. That was great, and I’m grateful I got to experience it with you.”

“Me too,” you agree, blushing a little from the genuineness of Harry’s tone. “So tell me how you got into him, because I am dying to know. You really knew your shit out there.”

Harry shrugs, “My brother’s about your age and he’s obsessed. We did a week in Mexico for his bachelor party last year and he played Bad Bunny nonstop. After that I was hooked.”

“Mm, fair. Is your brother here?”

Harry grins wickedly, “No, he didn’t want to come. I cannot wait to rub it in his face when I head to the office on Monday.” Then he’s grabbing your hand to kiss the back of it. “Thank you for dancing with me.”

Seeing the older brother side of him for a moment strikes your heart with a little flare of something more than lust for this man. He’s wonderfully adorable. “You were an excellent partner, Harry. Did you enjoy being high for that?”

He nods, glancing at you almost knowingly. “It certainly enhanced things. It’s mostly worn off for me, though.”

A sly smile finds your lips. “I could use some more.”

“You could use some water ,” Harry practically chides, though that smile he’s wearing for you doesn’t falter. “I’ll get you some, stay here.”

With that, he leaves you standing by a marble pillar as he slides up to the crowded bar.

Vanessa moves in beside you, poking you in the cheek with a pink fingernail. Charles seems to have gone off to do his job.

“Someone’s going to get laid for real tonight!”

“Shh! Keep your fucking voice down!” You hiss, mortified. What she said was vague enough that anyone within earshot would just assume you masturbate a lot or something, but that feeling of dread in your chest just sobered you up more than the dancing had. “He doesn’t know about that.”

“Are you going to tell him?” She asks.

You shake your head grimly. “I told him I’m a smut author.”

Vanessa scoffs loudly. “Bitch your Ao3 does not fucking count.”

God, you could kill her just as much as you could kiss her sometimes. “It was the best I could come up with, Van. I’d like to see you come up with something better if you were in my position.”

She frowns, looking at you seriously. “If you see him again after tonight you need to come clean. He seems like a catch and he seems completely enamored with you. Maybe you can actually reel this one in.”

“He’s not a fish,” you say with an eye roll.

“No, he’s a sexy rich man who’s exactly your type.”

“I don’t care that he’s rich, you know that.”

“But you do care that he’s devilishly handsome and older than you.”

“Boy, do I,” you say dreamily as you watch him turn from the bar with three bottles of water.

“He doesn’t have to be a sugar daddy to be a daddy.” Vanessa sends you her signature wink at that last statement.

You shove her playfully. “That’s enough out of you. He’s on his way back. You and I will discuss this at home.”

“Aye aye, captain!” Vanessa says with a giggle and a salute, clearly still feeling her alcohol. Then her eyes widen as she looks over your shoulder and suddenly shouts, “But I’m going home with Charles, just so you know!”

Glaring sharply, you know exactly what she’s doing despite whisper-asking her, “What are you doing?!”

“Getting him to take you home,” she whispers back.

As if you needed help.

“Did I hear that you need a ride?” Harry asks, handsome as ever as he looks down at you. He looks so good that it’s overwhelming, dark hair even darker now that it’s damp from dancing, the pink flush in his cheeks slowly starting to fade. His white dress shirt seems damp in a few places and he’s rolled his sleeves up to expose his toned forearms. Harry hands you and Vanessa a bottle of water before unscrewing the cap of his own and downing several gulps with his head turned slightly. There’s that beautiful side profile again.

Christ have mercy, how are you turned on by watching someone drink water? The way his lips are pursed against the bottle, the bob of his Adam's apple as the drink flows down his throat. The little flick of his tongue on the edge of the rim to catch that last stray drop.

Fuck .

Vanessa elbows you, and you have to literally shake your head to dislodge from the stupor he just had you in. Words? What are those?

“Uh, yes, I was just going to grab a taxi,” you say, taking a generous sip of your own water while you recover.

“I’ve already called for my driver to come pick me up. I’m happy to take you somewhere.” Harry offers generously.

You smirk. “I distinctly recall someone wanting to get greasy food after this.”

He grins. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

“You did.”

“I was really high, wasn’t I?”

“You were. But I liked it, and I’m craving a cheesesteak.”

“A cheesesteak it is, then.”

The two of you stand there, staring into each other’s eyes for a long moment, sharing a silent mutual agreement that the rest of the night is about to be shared in each other’s company. Though, as is the delicate dance between men and women, and despite how forward Harry had been with you on the dance floor, you’ll both still skirt around the subject until it actually happens.

*****

Masterlist

#harry castillo #harry castillo fanfiction #harry castillo fic #harry castillo x you #harry castillo smut #harry castillo x reader #harry castillo x female reader #harry castillo x f!reader #materialists #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character x reader #pedro pascal characters

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creaturecon · 1 day ago

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CREATURE CON MASTERPOST

Before we get started, please note that Creature Con is not a competition. There is no "winner" or "loser," but you can earn achievements! It'll be an online convention so that people can interact, share their stories, and make new friends!

Where and Who

Creature Con will be hosted on Discord! Both AU creators and guests are more than welcome to join.

However, guests do need to wait until all AU's are in and submissions are done for the Discord to be open to the public.

All TMNT generations are welcome!

What Counts As A Creature

For the purpose of this con, a creature counts as a character being a different thing, having something happening, or both! Here's a list:

Extra Mutations

Human Characters [April, Casey, ect.] Mutating

Curses [Vampire, Werewolf, ect.]

Mythical Creatures

Feral

Krangified

Ghosts/Spirits

Undead

Animal

Unmutated/Demutated

AU's will be separated based on category. If an AU fits multiple categories, the AU owner will be allowed to pick the one it goes in.

If your AU doesn't fit on here but you think they may apply or have a questions, contact one of the mods on the list below or send us an ask! However, do note some may count but might not be included as to not overwork the mods.

Participation

Their are many ways to participate! Interacting with AU's is the main one, but there are many ways to do this. Some ways include:

Making art

Writing

Roleplay [The Discord will have Tupperbox for Roleplay purposes!]

Gold Stars [Each AU participating gets one Gold Star that they can use/gift]

Asks [Both Discord and Tumblr]

If you do decide to make an ask on Tumblr, @ us and use event tags! We might miss it if you don't.

General Tags: #tmnt creature con #tmntcc

Specific Tags: #tmntcc art #tmntcc ask #tmntcc asks #tmntcc participant #tmntcc guest #tmntcc news

Interacting gets you achievements! Some will even be AU specific. Stay on the lookout for hints on hidden achievements as well, you never know what you might find.

Rules

While more rules will be available in the Discord once the server is open, here are some of the basics.

NO Tcest [This includes showing images/art with the intention of mocking it].

NO directed racism, ableism, transphobia, homophobia or sexism. If your AU contains these themes, they must be tagged and have the according TW/CW's.

Sensitive topics MUST be blocked out [In Discord, this means having || on either side of the word/sentence, which covers it] and tagged with TW/CW's.

NO Arguing, harassment, bullying, ect. If you have a problem with someone talk in private to sort things out, or contact a mod if they are causing issues.

NO heavy venting in the server.

NO spamming the server.

Want To Submit An AU?

When the forms are open, anyone is welcome to apply if their AU fits! As said above, it can be an AU from any generation. However, there are only 30 spots as to not overwhelm the mods with too many people!

SUBMISSION FORM

SUMISSIONS WILL BE OPEN FROM 6/19/2025 - 7/3/2025, WE WILL NOT BE TAKING ANY MORE SUBMISSIONS AFTER JULY 3RD AT 11:59PM UTC OR 6:59PM EST.

Once submissions are complete, there will be a break so everything can get set up and so invites can be sent out.

Some creators may be asked extra questions, here is where we'll ask if they are any extra TW/CW's forgotten when the form was filled out, along with things like custom achievements for the AU.

To make sure every AU has it's time to shine, there will be Spotlight Segments. During these, certain AU's from different categories will get focus put onto them. Think of it like a panel in an in person convention. This way, no AU gets overlooked!

Time of Spotlight Segments will vary depending on how many AU's we have attending.

DISCORD LINK - 🚧 [Under construction! Come back later!] 🚧

Mods

@calebscornerofart ( 🐈 ) @uncannyalien @nights-flying-fox ( ✨ ) @noxvee6 ( 🌑 ) @the-most-neon-leon ( 🐢 ) @whyamiheretumbled ( 🪐 )

#tmnt creature con #tmntcc #tmntcc masterpost #rise of the tmnt #tmnt #tmnt 1987 #tmnt 2003 #tmnt 2018 #tmnt 2012 #tmnt bayverse #tmnt 2k12 #tmnt 2k3 #tmnt fandom #teenage mutant ninja turtles

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this-world-of-beautiful-monsters · 9 hours ago

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*putting on my never loumandover hat and hanging a I KNOW ARMAND IS STILL ABUSIVE AND AWFUL sign on my chest* I mean, at the end of the day Armand at least does something...like the "will I be on suicide watch" thing is obvs a manipulation tactic, but also it's him trying to find out like--is Louis gonna do this again, will Armand need to prepared for this to happen again? it's like a logical question to ask, and it's a very Armand thing to focus on practical questions like that instead of flowery reassurances that don't actually cut to the heart of the problem.

and that's literally what the "teach me to be fascinating" thing is about, at least on some level...he wants to be interesting enough to get Louis to stick around, both relationship-wise and on this mortal plane. he tries to extract the nuts and bolts of being "fascinating" from Daniel, both psychically and through blood drinking, because he's realized that there's something about Daniel that's useful for keeping Louis alive and engaged (and he's right, he just doesn't understand how yet! knowing Daniel is alive and thriving helps keep Louis from attempting again! it's why Armand turns Daniel later, so Louis won't have a reason to attempt again!) it's a brutal tactic, but it's far more practical than just claiming to care and then hopping into another bed when the going got rough. and like I said, ruthless practicality is a very Armand trait.

anyway. *takes off my never loumandover hat* I know Loustat is endgame or whatever, and Armand definitely deserves to be kicked to the curb, but THEY BOTH SUCK. stubbornly pretending that Lestat giving a shit about Louis's mental health once in a blue moon makes him "better" is not grounded in canon and makes you look racist.

#monsters talks iwtv #armand #loumand #asking blunt questions about the issue and trying to actually fix things instead of saying nice words is a very autistic trait. to me.#memnoch the devil #the vampire chronicles #monsters reads tvc #the vampire armand #louis de pointe du lac #loustat

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immortalmolloy · 2 days ago

Note

Daniel knew in his heart that Mina would never be a monster, not like Dracula… not like Armand. Did that mean Mina wouldn’t make mistakes? Did that mean she wouldn’t hurt people? Not at all. The reality of the situation was that they were all monsters on a certain level. It was the nature of being a vampire. None of them were immune to the instincts and urges that came with being a creature of the night. Daniel did not feel disappointed that Mina had hurt people. He understood.

Besides, Daniel had actually questioned Mina about hurting people the very first time he met her. That was long before she had become a vampire. He had asked her why she felt she had the right to decide who was a monster and if they deserved to die. He’d gone out with her and seen her hunt and eventually he had gotten used to it. He had desperately attached himself to the way of monster hunting because he had needed a purpose to cling to. He would have been dead without that… without Mina.

And then things changed. He changed. He became one of the monsters. He got to know Louis and later Lestat. And that was his destiny he realized. He was always meant to find Louis and connect with him. Mina had tried to prevent it but in the end you could not avoid fate. Just like Mina hadn’t been able to outrun her death. It had come for her finally like they always knew it would.

When Daniel changed and as he grew less naive over the years he eventually became uncomfortable with the idea of hunting. It started to traumatize him even. It weighed down on him suffocatingly and haunted him in his nightmares. He no longer trusted that he knew who the real monsters were and whether they deserved to die. Mina should have killed him in theory when he became a vampire but she hadn’t. Then he met Louis and Lestat and he loved them despite their flaws. They had done awful things in their pasts but their hearts were good. And they did not deserve to die certainly. While Daniel questioned how many of their previous kills were actually justified, Mina never wavered. So Daniel never saw her as this innocent perfect person. Daniel had always seen Mina as someone, from the very first night they met, capable of doing awful things to people. But fortunately for her, that was Daniel’s type. She didn’t have to fear that he would not love her anymore. He would never stop loving her.

“Yes, let’s do that,” he agreed. “I’d like that.” He held her hand in his as they made their way to bed. He never wanted to let her go.

“So, you want to interview vampires, so you?”

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blckbrrybasket · 2 days ago

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Remmick and His Missy (5)

“You ever gonna ask me?” Remmick’s voice called out across the water from where he sat on the dock. His knees were bent, legs dangling above the water without dipping in. It wouldn’t hurt, but he wasn’t in the mood to wait for his legs to air dry.

“Ask about what?” You responded, arms stretching out over your head to cut through the water. Lazily swimming in the manmade lake, your head only slightly turned to look at Remmick. “‘Bout that day.”

“How I got turned, why. Something.” His voice quieted at the prospect of answering these questions. Yet, he knew he would have to answer some eventually. A vampire didn’t become attached to a human without answering their questions.

You had just been generous about not asking anything about him yet. Well, you asked his name, but any other information came from spur of the moment times when he wanted to relate to somebody. In the end he still felt the way humans did. Not everything went away in death.

“Naw…” you drawled and took a deep breath. Your lungs inflated and kept you buoyant against the calming ripples. Staying afloat, you pondered over what you could ask him. “But I’ll ask you somethin’. Why me? Out of everyone ‘round here…’round the world, why choose me to stay ‘around.”

Saying “staying with” felt too intimate for your relationship, so you settled for something a little more fitting. Not that him staying with you was an incorrect assessment. The words were no less monumental to him, however.

Remmick thought about it deeply. Why did he gravitate towards you? There was something below your surface that alerted him to your safety. You had always seemed strong, but not overbearing. You were thoughtful, but not a pushover. Calling you perfect felt like overkill and yet he could hardly find a more fitting word.

“Guess you were there,” he settled. Watching you swim around in slow laps, Remmick wished he could say more. If he could eloquently speak the words he wanted to, he would. “How nice,” you responded flatly.

He chuckled at your brassy reply, his eyes tracking you in the dark. Remmick was able to easily spot you with his night vision, appreciating the view of you in your undergarments, paddling around the lake without a care. Your lack of restraint rubbed off of him, making him more relaxed than he usually was.

“You asked and I answered,” he acknowledged with a match of sass in his tone. “What did you expect me to say?” The question startled your brain. What did you expect now? “I’m not sure, not much anymore.”

“Your company is nice. You don’t threaten me…much. You’re good.”

You chewed at the inside of your bottom lip, coming to a stop in the lake. “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Remmick. Maybe the nicest thing ever,” you teased him, smiling when you heard his grumble from across the pond. “I didn’t say it for you, I said it not to lie.”

“Well, I’m flattered,” you answered him, swimming up towards the dock. The lake rippled and swished around you when you lifted yourself up onto the dock, peering up at him. “Don’t matter what you meant.”

Remmick studied your face, the way your clothes were plastered to your body. It felt like a dream come true, rendering him unable to speak. He leaned forward by a hair of an inch. Tension thickened the air between the two of you until he pulled back a few seconds later. “If you sit there for much longer you’ll catch your death.”

Shrugging off the missed moment, you grinned up at him. “Then you’d have to save me.” A serious expression flickered over Remmick’s face before he masked it, “I wouldn’t turn you.” He paused then got up. “C’mon, let’s get you inside.”

taglist: @cypherpt5fttaehyung

#remmick and his missy #remmick x y/n #remmick x you #remmick x reader #remmick sinners #remmick #remmick x oc #sinners x you #sinners x reader #sinners movie #sinners #sinners 2025

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dakusan · 3 days ago

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📁 ASK D U M P 𓆩🩸𓆪 18 JUNE 2025

🩸 Welcome to the today's Ask Dump.

If you see your ask here: yes, I drank it. yes, it screamed. yes, I moaned.

Today it is messy, horny, heartfelt. So grab a bib, sharpen your teeth, and let’s get feral.

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

💞ANON LOGGED: “can they suck my feelings too or just my neck?”

OH BABY. you just fed me a five-course lore buffet with dessert. buckle up. let’s talk EMOTIONAL VAMPIRES in the SKZ vamp universe.

⸺⟡⸺

🧛‍♂️💘 CAN VAMPIRES FEED ON EMOTIONS?

YES. YES THEY CAN.

But only the powerful ones—usually the Abnormals. They don’t need emotions to survive, but they crave them like spice on blood.

Blood keeps their body alive. Emotion? That’s the high. That’s the intoxication. That’s soul fuel.

🩸🔥 TYPES OF FEEDING:

1. Blood-Only Feeders (Normals)

They get what they need from physical blood.

Clean. Simple. No psychic ties.

But it lacks… depth.

2. Blood + Emotional Feeders (Abnormals)

These sick bastards bite your neck and then feel everything you’re feeling.

They get drunk on your fear. High on your desire. Warm off your affection.

Bonded vamps? Even worse. They can sync up with you emotionally and feed off what you're not saying.

😵‍💫 WHAT KIND OF EMOTIONS FEED THEM?

😈 Fear: spicy, electric—like espresso shots. great for battle-mode. also addictive. 💔 Sadness: deep, thick, lingers on the tongue. leaves them melancholic after. ❤️ Love: euphoric. golden-honey rush. makes them protective AF. 😡 Anger: sharp, metallic, burns a little. gives them a power surge. not sustainable. 😏 Desire: sweet poison. strongest during sex or when you're on the edge of begging. makes their instincts go feral. 🤍 Trust: rarest flavour. tastes like divinity. anchors their mind. calms their rage state. only found in bonded pairs.

🛏️ BLOOD + FEELINGS DURING SEX?? OH YES. YES MA’AM.

sex with an emotional feeder vampire is like:

getting fucked physically

getting drained emotionally

and still feeling more full afterward than you’ve ever been.

They’ll sink their fangs into your neck while you’re crying, moaning, trembling—and the combo of blood + raw feelings?? Ecstasy. For them and you.

when it’s your soulmate? it’s a feedback loop. they feed off your love + lust, which makes them more intense, which makes you feel more, which makes them bite deeper.

…it spirals until one of you blacks out or cries.

🤯 HOW IT AFFECTS YOUR BOND:

Positive emotions deepen the bond. Reinforce safety, love, soul tie.

Negative emotions can either strengthen it (through intensity)… or corrupt it if the vamp isn’t emotionally regulated.

Feeding during sex can fuse your auras. Some vampires never feed that way unless you’re the one.

you let them take your blood and your feelings during orgasm? ✨ congratulations. you’re married. ✨

⸺⟡⸺

thank you for feeding me with this question. come again baby 💋🦇

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

🌹 anon LOGGED: “ignoring my migraines until i look like a Victorian ghost—how doomed are they?”

🌹 anon, you wanted to know how vampire!SKZ would react to a Blood Doll/Soulmate with debilitating migraines who ignores them until collapse?

buckle in. because they’re not handling it well.

⸺⟡⸺

🧛‍♂️💥 VAMPIRE!SKZ REACT TO YOU IGNORING MIGRAINES

Lore rule: vampires—especially bonded ones—feel their soulmate’s pain like it’s their own. they don’t just sense it. they get hit with it. amplified. distilled. so when you're trying to function with a skull-shattering migraine? they’re over here pacing the floor with bloodshot eyes and barely suppressed panic.

Bang Chan He knows before you do. The second the pressure starts building behind your eyes, he goes tense. You’re brushing it off like, “I’m fine.” He’s already blacking out windows and grinding his molars.

“You’re not fine. Sit the fuck down, sweetheart—I’ll carry you if I have to.”

He gets scarily gentle. Pulls you into his lap in pitch darkness. Holds your temples like sacred things. If you flinch, he flinches harder. If you cry, he looks like he wants to rip your skull open just to relieve the pressure. He will literally lie there, unmoving, barely breathing—because any sudden motion might worsen yours.

Lee Know You ignoring pain? He takes that personally.

“So you knew it was starting, and just… what? Hoped you’d die before doing something about it?”

Not even mad at you—mad at himself for not catching it sooner. He starts shutting down stimuli: lights, sounds, scents. You’re in a full-on Minho-modified migraine-safe nest within five minutes. Then? He just lays next to you. Face unreadable. Jaw locked. You feel a cold hand on your back, and you know—he’s furious at the universe for hurting you.

Changbin His panic is visible. Like a bouncer who just saw his most precious thing get cracked.

“You didn’t say anything. Why didn’t you—fuck, baby, you’re shaking.”

He immediately gets physical: carrying you, pressing you to his chest, massaging your scalp, neck, shoulders—anywhere the pain radiates. He kisses your temple with a desperation that’s almost violent. His voice drops to a whisper.

“Give it to me. I can take it, just… let me help.”

He means it. He’ll absorb whatever pain he can—bleed himself if it makes you feel anything less than agony.

Hyunjin He cries. Sorry. But it’s angry crying.

“You knew it was hurting and you still pushed through? You hid this from me?”

He’s on his knees beside the bed, stroking your hair with trembling fingers, muttering soft, desperate things in between little wet kisses on your fingers or cheek. He hates seeing you flinch from light. Hates not being able to take it away instantly. He will paint you a pitch-black ceiling mural to stare at when it passes.

Han Jisung His brain short-circuits. Your migraine triggers his psychic overload.

“Okay okay okay—pressure behind the eye, okay, sound off, lights off, no movement, cool air, water with magnesium—do you need tea? Ice pack?? I’ll bite you, just say the word???”

He starts rambling solutions, trying to soothe you with jokes but he’s barely holding it together. Ends up curled next to you whispering things like

“I’m right here. Not going anywhere. You’re my whole nervous system, you know that?”

Also makes eight backup migraine kits and hides them everywhere.

Felix Goes full guardian angel. But the moment he realizes how much you’re hurting? His light dims. His aura cracks.

“You poor thing... I can feel how much it hurts. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

He carries you gently, places cool kisses on your brow, runs his fingers through your hair like a lullaby. He hums for you. His voice helps realign your energy. He’s the one who makes you cry from how loved you feel. (also, he’s crying too.)

Seungmin Looks calm. Is not calm. He’s rage-shaking inside.

“You what? You ignored it until it felt like your skull was going to split open? Do you enjoy suffering?”

He immediately starts reorganizing your life. You’re getting on supplements. You’re getting sleep. He’s setting reminders in your phone and his. But under all that sharpness?

“I can’t watch you in pain and do nothing. Don’t make me feel that helpless again.”

He’ll spoon you in total silence, his voice soft in your ear:

“I’ll hurt the world for doing this to you. Just not you. Never you.”

Jeongin You try to laugh it off, and he’s just standing there, shaking his head, all disappointed.

“You always do this. Why can’t you let yourself be weak when it matters?”

He’s gentle, but scolding. Sits next to you like a stubborn cat. Presses an ice pack to your neck. Rubs your hand with his thumb until you fall asleep.

⸺⟡⸺

🌹 anon, you crowned me Ruler of the Shadows and i can't thank you enough. thank you. for the love, for the chaos. your pain tolerance is terrifying. come back any time 💋🦇

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

🐰 anon LOGGED: “i begged my vampire for a baby and now i’m feral, in labor, and clenching his hand like a crucifix”

🐰 anon, you just opened the most sacred door in vamp!SKZ lore: “Give me a baby” and “Now it’s trying to kill me from the inside.”

let’s go.

⸺⟡⸺

🧛‍♂️🍼 VAMPIRE!SKZ WHEN YOU:

1. Beg Them for a Baby

2. Go Through Labor (and make them live through it too)

💥 Lore note: In this universe, pregnancy with a vampire—especially an Abnormal—is biological warfare with glitter. The fetus is part magic, part blood oath, and part “oops, the baby just kicked through a rib.”

Bang Chan

1. You: “Please, I want your baby.”

He freezes. Visibly short-circuits.

“You… want mine? My child? You want to carry that inside you?”

Then it hits him. Someone wants his legacy. His blood. His soul.

“You don’t have to beg, angel. I’ll give you as many as your body can hold.”

He fucks you like he’s blessing you. Praise kink in overdrive. Kisses your stomach like it’s already carrying royalty.

2. Labor hits:

He does not leave your side. He does not let go of your hand. He does not stop whispering:

“You’re doing so well. You’re everything. You’re mine. Just a little more, I’m right here—we’re right here.”

He cries when the baby cries. Holds the baby like he's holding a holy relic.

Lee Know

1. You: “I want your baby.”

His eyes narrow.

“Are you sure?” Then darker: “You want something half me? Something dangerous. Something no one else could ever take from us?”

He grabs your throat and kisses you like it’s a promise.

“You’ll carry my blood. And I’ll guard you like the empire you are.”

2. Labor hits:

He is silent but deadly. You scream—he flinches. Not from fear, from rage at your pain. He keeps wiping your sweat. Keeps holding your jaw steady.

“Breathe. You’re stronger than this. Stronger than me. Stronger than everything.”

When the baby’s born, he holds them like a damn prayer.

Changbin

1. You: “I want to have your baby.”

He CHOKES. Then moans.

“Fuck. You want my baby? Like, in you? Like… making you round and glowing and—fuck.”

He kisses your stomach like a shrine. Nuzzles your thighs. Holds you like you’ll break. And then breaks you.

“I’ll be such a good dad. They’ll have your eyes. Please—let me give you everything.”

2. Labor hits:

He’s sweating more than you.

“What do you mean you’re only 4cm? FOUR? Is that good?? Is she DYING???”

He’s panicking, pacing, sobbing quietly while whispering, “You’ve got this, babe.” When the baby’s out? He collapses to his knees.

Hyunjin

1. You: “I want your baby.”

Tears. Real ones.

“You want… a piece of me inside you? For nine months? You want to make art with my DNA?”

Immediately picks you up and carries you to bed like you’re a princess. He writes poetry to your womb. Rubs oil on your belly every night while whispering sweet things.

2. Labor hits:

He cries with you. His hand is shaking. He feels every contraction in his chest like it’s devouring him. Kisses your face between every scream. Tells the baby to “please be gentle with mommy.”

Cries harder than the baby when it’s over.

Han Jisung

1. You: “Please give me a baby.”

He goes feral.

“You want to breed with me? Are you serious? I’ll knock you up SO fast—don’t threaten me with a good time!!”

One minute he’s flustered. The next he’s saying things like:

“Your body’s going to swell with me. Your tits are gonna get huge. Fuck. You’re gonna smell like baby and blood and me.”

2. Labor hits:

He’s praying in three languages and trying not to vomit.

“I read nine medical articles—this is the part where she starts throwing things, right?”

Still never leaves your side. Puts music on. Holds your hand. Cries. Cutest dad sobs when the baby grabs his pinky.

Felix

1. You: “I want a baby with you.”

He glows. Literally. You’ve never seen someone light up like that.

“A little piece of you and me? You really want that?”

He starts talking about nurseries and lullabies. Kisses your stomach before you even conceive.

“You’d be the most beautiful mother. I’d protect you both with everything I am.”

2. Labor hits:

He holds you through every contraction. Rubbing your back. Whispering.

“Breathe, my love. I'm right here. You’ve got me. Always.”

He’s calm. Steady. Loving. But when the baby cries? He sobs like he’s never seen joy before.

Seungmin

1. You: “I want your baby.”

He stiffens. Stares. Then:

“You think you can handle that?”

But his voice breaks. Because the idea undoes him.

“My child. With you. My blood inside your veins, inside your womb. You’d choose that?”

He’s possessive. Worshipful. Obsessive. Already planning everything.

2. Labor hits:

Looks calm. Inside? Absolute war zone.

“No, she doesn’t need more light. She needs silence. She needs water. Now.”

He advocates for you like a general. Holds you like you're fragile glass. Presses cold cloths to your skin. Kisses your temple.

He doesn’t cry when the baby is born born. Just holds them. Looks at you. And says:

“You’re everything. You’re unreal.”

Jeongin

1. You: “I want your baby.”

Panics. Blushes. Exhales.

“You’re serious?”

Then smirks.

“Guess I better fuck you properly, then.”

He talks about parenting like a fantasy—then follows through with complete focus.

2. Labor hits:

Jeongin goes silent. You cry out, and he just cups your face.

“I know, baby. I know. Just look at me.”

He doesn’t stop holding your hand, not for a second. He takes the baby in shaking arms and says:

“You did that. We did that. You’re… incredible.”

⸺⟡⸺

to 🐰 anon— thank you for bringing both the soft and the screaming into the crypt. i think we will need a bottle for the newborn. maybe a muzzle for dad 💋🦇

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

🕷️ anon LOGGED: “okay but what happens when her period ends tho?? do the vampires stop feral-mode?”

yes. they go from “mine mine mine she’s bleeding I’m twitching” to “alright baby, let’s get you rehydrated and back on top of me.”

the scent calms down. the bloodlust eases. their brain fog clears. they go from full primal claim-and-devour mode back to their normal brand of overprotective, over-possessive, and still kinda horny selves.

🕷️ anon — thank you for your midnight bloodcycle brain. your loyalty to vampire menstruation theory is noted and honoured 💋🦇

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

🦋 anon LOGGED: “she studied too hard so they made her stupid—in the most loving way possible”

🦋 anon, you wanted soft domestic bloodsuckers who can’t bear to see you stressed and feral boyfriends who fuck the exam anxiety out of you? you’re getting both.

⚠️ CONTENT WARNING — 18+ / NSFW This reply includes: overstimulation, dom!skz, soft smut, degradation/praise mix, stress relief through sex, and extremely nurturing vampire boyfriends who lovingly destroy your brain during exam season. If you're not into that — scroll past, scholar. If you are? Read on

⸺⟡⸺

🧛‍♂️📚 VAMPIRE!SKZ WHEN THEY FIND OUT:

You’ve been studying something you love (which makes them proud), but now you’re so stressed your brain is basically bleeding through your eyeballs.

And of course—you don’t tell them. You just spiral quietly until you collapse into the mattress like a Victorian scholar dying of too many flashcards.

The blood doll forgot to eat. The blood doll is shaking. The blood doll tried to rewrite all of human chemistry in one night. The blood doll is in danger.

Bang Chan

He finds you slumped over, muttering formulas with twitchy hands. The second he hears “I’m fine,” he shuts your laptop without asking.

“You’ve reached your limit, angel. Time to let me handle the rest.”

He doesn’t mean the studying. He means you.

Wraps you in his hoodie.

Carries you to bed.

Runs warm hands up your thighs, whispers, “Want me to make you forget everything but my name?”

He’ll overstim you into blankness, then hold your hand while you nap on his chest—notes still open, but you don’t need them anymore.

Lee Know

He doesn’t ask if you’re okay. He knows you’re not.

“You’ve been staring at the same paragraph for twenty minutes. That’s not studying—that’s masochism.”

Takes your textbook. Tosses it. Sits you on his lap and kisses your temple while undoing your pants like he’s unwrapping a brain-cracked gift.

“You’re so smart. Too smart. But right now I need you dumb on my fingers, baby.”

He fucks the stress out of you with surgical precision—like he’s removing a toxin. You forget your major. You forget your own name. That’s how he likes you.

Changbin

“You’ve been doing this for how long? Baby, no. Come here. Come sit on my lap. Right now.”

He rubs your back. Kisses your shoulder. Gets you to breathe.

Then?

“You’ve been such a good girl. All week. Let me make you feel good. Let me make you dumb for me.”

He talks you through it. Touches slow and deep until you’re moaning and drooling and saying, “Exams? What exams?” And then he brings you water like an actual king.

Hyunjin

He watches you spiral and breaks before you do.

“You haven’t eaten. You haven’t slept. What are they doing to you?”

He pulls you into a nest of blankets. Lights candles. Rubs your temples with his thumbs and kisses you between whimpers. And when you finally beg for something else to distract you?

“You want me to take your mind off it? Okay. Okay. Just let go. Let go, baby.”

He fingers you slow while reading your flashcards in a whisper, just to mess with you. You cum to the sound of your own study notes. He’s evil.

Han Jisung

He finds you talking to yourself and immediately drops all his shit.

“Are you having a breakdown? Is this it? Is this the final boss of academia?!”

Immediately shoves snacks and water at you. Then immediately shoves himself between your thighs.

“You don’t need grades. You just need my cock in your throat until your neurons reset.”

He makes you giggle mid-fuck. Calls it “emotional tutoring.” When you cum? He kisses your forehead and goes,

“Congratulations. You passed the only test that matters.”

Felix

First reaction: panic. Second: pure nurturing mode.

“You poor thing... You love this subject, and now it’s hurting you.”

He brings you tea. Rests your head on his chest. Rubs your scalp. Then you whisper “please take my mind off it” and he goes feral.

“Let me spoil you. Let me ruin you. Let me make you forget everything but how good you feel.”

He overstims you with such care it feels like love therapy. You’re crying in his arms while he praises your effort and kisses your fingertips. Then hands you a chocolate bar like a trophy.

Seungmin

Sees the signs. Hears your voice tremble.

“You’re shaking. That’s enough.”

No arguments. He closes your laptop and stares until you follow him into the dark bedroom.

“You need to be reminded of your priorities.”

He teases. Denies. Edges you until you forget what studying even is. He makes you beg—then holds you so tightly afterward that you sob into his shoulder. That’s how he wants you.

“Your mind’s a weapon. But right now? Let it rest.”

Jeongin

Finds you looking like a corpse and immediately takes control.

“You’ve been reading this same page for an hour. You don’t need a degree—you need dick.”

Makes you laugh while undressing you. Still gentle. Still reverent. But also knows exactly how to fold you into pleasure until you forget what sleep deprivation feels like.

“Open your legs, baby. Let me tutor your body instead.”

Aftercare includes forehead kisses, water, and cheeky quiz questions mid-snuggle.

⸺⟡⸺

🦋 anon, my softest menace— thank you for this perfect post-exam delusion. rest now. hydrate. let vampire!SKZ handle the thinking for you. you’ve done enough, darling. they’ll take it from here—with mouths, fingers, fangs, and praise so filthy it resets your GPA.

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

🫧 anon LOGGED: “she draws him like she’s possessed—and he lets her, because he is”

my bubble anon, you asked for vamp!Hyunjin x artist soulmate — and i shall deliver.

⸺⟡⸺

🧛‍♂️🎨 VAMP!HYUNJIN x ARTIST!SOULMATE — DRABBLE

He finds you in your studio again. Barefoot. Shirt stained with graphite. Hair pinned up with a pencil. You're hunched over the canvas like it’s breathing—like it might bite you back if you get it wrong.

And him?

He’s frozen in the doorway. Watching. Starving.

Not for your blood this time. For your focus. Your furrowed brow. The way you stare at him like he’s the most important thing in the room.

“You’re doing it again,” he murmurs, stepping into the glow of your dim desk lamp. “Looking at me like I’m art.”

You don’t answer. You’re sketching the lines of his collarbone. Not stylized. Not romanticized. Documented. Every hollow, every curve—like you’re mapping your favourite ruin.

And Hyunjin? He lets you.

No snarling. No teasing. Just stillness. Worship.

He sits on your floor, leans against your legs, lets his head fall to your thigh while you work. His voice is velvet-tired: “You see things no one else sees.”

“You’re mine,” you whisper back.

His eyes flutter closed. “Then draw me until I disappear.”

You do. You sketch him as shadow and silhouette. As myth and madness. You draw him as you know him—ancient, broken, beautiful. He sees them later. Dozens of him. Soft. Brutal. Hungry. Reverent. Some with eyes blacked out. Some with fangs bared. One of him curled against your chest like he’s found God.

He never breathes while he looks at your art. He stares—jaw locked, throat working—like if he touches it, he might fall apart.

“This is how you see me?”

“Always.”

He pins you to the floor that night, fingers smudging charcoal across your ribs, lips red from biting down moans that would’ve woken the dead.

He fucks you like you’re the one that created him.

⸺⟡⸺

🫧 anon, thank you for this canvas of obsession. your ask was pure pigment and pulse. stay hydrated please 💋🦇

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

🫂 anon LOGGED: “read the period fic and my uterus said peace — daku is the cure confirmed”

🫂 anon — first of all: I LOVE YOU. second: if my vampire fic made your period vanish like a cursed mist, then I’m officially writing prescriptions in blood from now on. you being cramp-free and thriving? that’s the real canon.

as for Spotify… let’s just say VX is everywhere and nowhere 👀. joking, i have added the links to both spotify and apple music on my pinned 😗(but if you want to search, you need to search the full name: Vexed Existence).

thank you for the love once again 💋🦇

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

⸺⟡⸺

🧛‍♂️ VAMPIRE!SKZ WHEN:

1. YOU GET KIDNAPPED

2. YOU HAVE A PANIC ATTACK

Bang Chan

KIDNAPPED:

The second he realizes you’re gone, he stops breathing.

His mind fractures into three:

calculating every possibility,

replaying the last time he held you,

imagining what they’re doing to you—and getting feral.

You are his center. His anchor. His reason. They took you? They just declared war. He doesn’t just find them. He tracks. He hunts. He tortures for intel with his bare hands. When he finally gets you back, he drops to his knees and wraps you in silence like armour.

“They touched you. They’re gone. It’s over. I’ve got you now.”

PANIC ATTACK:

He gets still. Hyper-aware. Voice soft. Hands careful.

“Breathe with me. In. Out. I’m here. You’re safe. I promise you—you’re safe.”

He shields you from everything—sound, light, thought. You’re tucked into his chest with his heartbeat in your ear like a metronome.

Lee Know

KIDNAPPED:

He doesn’t snap. He unfolds. Into something cold and lethal.

“Tell me where she is. You have one chance to live.”

He walks into dens like a ghost. No footsteps. No hesitation. He doesn’t speak again until he’s pulling you out, arms cut and bloody, pupils blown wide.

“You’re okay. I’ve got you. You’re not leaving my side again.”

Then he burns the whole place to the ground. Just in case.

PANIC ATTACK:

He doesn’t say much. He pulls you into his lap, tucks your head into his neck, and strokes your hair until your breathing slows.

“Let it happen. I’m not going anywhere.”

His stillness is your safety.

Changbin

KIDNAPPED:

He roars when he realizes you’re missing. Like actual bloodlust-noise tears through his chest.

“WHERE IS SHE?!”

He goes off instinct. Follows your scent. Punches through steel. Bends locks. Doesn’t stop until you’re in his arms and crying.

“You’re okay now. You’re okay. I swear, baby, I’m here.”

Then turns around and wipes out every last one of them.

PANIC ATTACK:

Immediate physical touch. Cradles you, rocks you slightly, presses kisses to your temple.

“I’ve got you. Just listen to my voice. You’re safe. You’re so safe.”

Will hold you for hours. Until the shaking stops. Until your mind lets go.

Hyunjin

KIDNAPPED:

He feels it. Before anyone tells him. Like his soul ripped sideways.

“She’s gone.”

Then he breaks. Screams. Collapses. And when he stands up again—his eyes are black, and someone’s about to die artistically. He finds you like you’re gravity. Holds you like a lifeline.

“Never again. I’ll kill anyone who touches you. I’ll kill the sun if I have to.”

PANIC ATTACK:

He cries with you. Feels it with you. Rocking, murmuring, whispering beautiful nothings in your ear.

“You don’t have to be okay right now. You just have to let me stay.”

Han Jisung

KIDNAPPED:

He loses his mind. His hands shake. His thoughts race. He’s sobbing and pacing and already planning bloodshed.

“They took her—they took her—they TOOK her—”

But once he locks onto a lead? Laser-focused. Brutal. Unhinged. He screams your name when he finds you. Cradles you like porcelain. Can’t stop kissing your face.

“I thought I lost you. I thought—fuck—I need you.”

PANIC ATTACK:

He’s chaos on the outside, but for you? He gets gentle.

“It’s okay. Let it out. I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”

Puts on your favourite playlist. Wraps you in a blanket burrito. Talks until you laugh through the tears.

Felix

KIDNAPPED:

He goes silent. His light shuts off. He smiles like a threat.

“Where is she?”

Then he goes hunting. Cold. Swift. Relentless. No hesitation. No mercy. When he finds you, he breaks. Cries into your hair. Kisses your fingertips.

“They’ll never touch you again. You’re mine. You’re safe.”

PANIC ATTACK:

He lights a candle. Lowers his voice. Holds your hand.

“Breathe with me, sunshine. You’re here. With me. Nothing else matters.”

So soft. So warm. So grounding. You don’t even realize you stopped panicking until he smiles.

Seungmin

KIDNAPPED:

He doesn’t panic. He plots. Calls in favours. Traces phone signals. Tracks heartbeat vibrations through magic and memory. And when he finds them?

“You took her. That was your last mistake.”

He gets you out. Carries you. Cleans your wounds. Holds you until you stop shaking.

“You’re safe. I made sure of it.”

PANIC ATTACK:

He speaks calmly. Firmly. He grounds you. Tells you what’s real.

“You’re with me. This is your hand. That is my voice. You’re in control.”

He becomes your anchor. Unshakeable.

Jeongin

KIDNAPPED:

His panic turns to wrath fast.

“Whoever took her? They’re already dead.”

He gets quiet. Deadly. Efficient. Breaks jaws with one hand. Cuts through security like smoke. When he gets to you?

“You held on. I knew you would.”

Tucks you into his coat and whispers, “You’re not leaving my side again.”

PANIC ATTACK:

Pulls you into his lap. Kisses your forehead.

“It’s okay. Let it come. I’ll hold you through it.”

He doesn’t let go. Even after. Even when you’re asleep.

⸺⟡⸺

stay safe, stay hydrated, don’t get kidnapped. they can’t guarantee the body count if you do 💋🦇

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

✨ anon LOGGED: “tattoo jeongin carved his name into my brain and now i live here rent-free”

✨ anon — thank you for the love, the chaos, and for fully surrendering to the ink-drenched menace that is tattoo!Jeongin. you’re now officially branded with stardust, brat energy, and the right to scream for more anytime. your emoji is officially on the roster.

thank you and love you 🦇💋

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

if you survived this lore-ridden, uterus-wrecking, questionably legal archive of fangfuckery—

you are now infected. 🩸 your brain? compromised. 🩸 your morals? on fire. 🩸 your blood? already claimed.

📻 what are your thoughts on this new K-pop Group ALLDAY PROJECT and their new song FAMOUS???

💀 remember: i don’t do normal.

BLESS YOU FOR BEING HERE. COME BACK BLEEDING 💋🦇

73 notes · View notes

its-tuff-out-here · 12 hours ago

Text

"Are you a vampire?" I ask randomly.

Sylus looks up from his paperwork, his reading glasses slipping off his nose. "Please explain to me your thought process."

"You're pale, regenerate very fast, hate the sunlight, sunburn easy, like red wine which looks borderline like blood, and are rich." I list off.

Sylus raises an amused brow. "... I like garlic bread." He points out.

"Okay? But how do we know for sure that every vampire is allergic to garlic? Actually, I heard they're not even allergic to garlic, but that they have a really strong sense of smell and just hate the strong smell of garlic. Maybe you just have a weak nose. Or you just got used to the smell of garlic. I would never know." I argue.

"True." He smirks. He puts down his papers and leans back against his seat. "I bleed though."

"So do mosquitos. What's your point?" I retort.

"Dont vampires not have blood? That's why they're cold and drink blood?" Sylus asks.

"No, im pretty sure they do bleed." I say, thinking back on the Mythology books I've read. "I think the blood they consume circulates through their body. But because their body is dead, theor blood cells cant reproduce and stuff. So they simply must drink more blood."

"Is that real or are you just guessing?" Sylus asks.

"Can't it be both?" I retort.

Sylus stares at me in silent amusement for a moment. "I suppose so. Regardless, im not a vampire, sweetie."

"How am I supposed to know that?" I ask.

"I haven't drank your blood." Sylus answers.

"And i hope you know, im offended by that." I tell him.

Sylus raises a brow. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. What? You think my blood is bad or something?" I scoff.

"I think your blood would be delicious." Sylus answers with a mischievous grin.

"Aha! That was a trick question! You do drink blood!" I exclaim.

Sylus chuckles. "I do not."

"You just said you think my blood would be delicious." I point out.

"Everything about you is delicious. I feel it's safe to assume your blood would be the same." Sylus hums.

It's my turn to stare silently.

"Honey?"

"Yeah?" He answers.

"You're weird. Please never drink my blood."

Sylus chuckles. "I wouldn't even dream of it, sweetie."

#lads sylus #love and deepspace #lads #love and deepspace sylus

66 notes · View notes

smellyvampirez · 17 hours ago

Note

you dont have to answer this question if you dont want to but were you the same person who drew gravity falls au art like fourish years ago of the stan brothers cursed by bill with stanford as a vampire and stanley as a werewolf? art of them like wandering the world as cursed creatures or whatever

yes

#my art

47 notes · View notes

colasapphic · 3 days ago

Note

I am obssessed with Georgia too ! What about a mom’s best friend georgia ? Or an punk musician reader x georgia ?? Have a Nice day

(a/n: why not a little bit of both! and i hope u have a nice day as well <3)

cherry bomb | georgia miller

wc: 2.0k

summary: deemed a ‘rebel delinquent’ by your mother for your career choices, you never liked to be home for long—maybe your mom’s new best friend will change that.

cw: light smut, femreader, fluff & angst, reader has mommy issues, unspecified age gap, georgia is really into guitarists

being home was a disaster.

some people were lucky to be born into a loving family, not you. your mother hated the fact you chose music as a career instead of something ‘respectable’. fights were inevitable when you came home from touring, she always had something to say about your music, and it was never positive.

so that’s where you were now, fighting with your mother in the living room about your latest album, “i don’t see how it’s any of your business! you don’t even come to my fucking shows!” you yell, hands swaying aggressively. your mother laughs bitterly, slamming her hands on the coffee table, “i don’t need to! my delinquent daughter is all over the internet!”

“it’s like you’re not even listening to me!” your words echo in the house as you make your way to the front door—just needing some goddamn air, “i should’ve never bought you that guitar, y/n!” your mother shrieks, trailing behind you to continue the fight, as she always does.

“you’re impossible!” you fumed, swinging the door open, but as you do, you see someone standing there. it was a young blonde woman with a container of food in her hand. she grins upon seeing you, “well hello there! you’re new!” georgia pointed out and for a few seconds you just stare at each other silently. then your face twists back into anger, “have fun, shes pissed” you seethe, shoving her out of your way and walking off the premises through the grass.

“and don’t walk in my grass with those disgusting boots!” of course your mother had to get the last word. georgia looks between the two of you, eyebrows raised in shock, “wow! teenagers!” she beams awkwardly, hands clutching the container tightly

“oh she’s not a teenager anymore.”

“so it just never gets easier?”

“nope.”

you don’t return to the house for about an hour, opting to sit at the end of the street and smoke a cigarette. of course when you do get back, your mother can’t help but open her mouth, “and now you smell like cigarettes?” she asks in a petty tone from the dining table.

you roll your eyes, “do you have anything positive to say about me?” your question was rhetorical, you knew she didn’t. at least not anymore, you missed the days where you and your mother were close, “i think you would be really beautiful if you stopped wearing that clown makeup” your mother smiles at you and you can feel the anger boiling in the pit of your stomach once more. you slam your phone on the dining table and take a seat next to the mystery woman, who had tensed up the moment you entered the home. you notice she was staring at you, but her face was unreadable, “what.” you bark—causing your mother to hit you in the arm for your rude demeanor.

“nothin’! i like your outfit! it’s very punk vampire!” your eyebrows raise at the compliment, it was something you hadn’t expected from one of your mom’s friends. clearly, your mom didn’t either, as her gaze falls on georgia in shock—the woman chuckles nervously at that, “…come on. she’s a very beautiful young lady” she’s trying to mediate. how sweet of her.

“i don’t need your help” you scoff, crossing your arms as your gaze settles back onto your mother—her face had softened, but she didn’t speak, just returned to her food. you didn’t put any on your plate, after all that bickering you weren’t that hungry. georgia gives you a concerned glance, “you not hungry, peach?” her voice is soft, completely disregarding your last statement.

“not really.”

your mother is the one who speaks next, “all that arguing tucker you out?” you immediately shove your chair back, grabbing your phone and stomping up the stairs—it wasn’t worth it to keep arguing with her.

what you weren’t expecting was for georgia to be standing against your doorframe about two hours later, taking in the sight of your bedroom. you slowly turn to her from your desk—where you had been retuning one of your guitars, “uhm… hello?” it felt a bit weird for another person to be in your room, you never brought people over.

“hey peach!” her voice is as chipper as ever as she walks over to you, placing her hands on your shoulders, “what’s got her panties in a twist anyways?” she whispers loudly, playfully looking back to ‘make sure’ your mother wasn’t standing there. you take a deep breath, revelling in the feel of her hands on you, “i’m in a band and she hates it because that’s not what she wanted me to do with my life” you explain carefully, which causes georgia to pout, it was an odd sight. georgia’s hands find themselves rubbing your shoulders in a comforting manner, “i’ll talk to her for you”

“you really don’t have to do that.”

“i’m very convincing”

you roll your eyes once more at that, “i’ve noticed” you quip quietly, turning your chair around to return to your guitar.

“will you at least tell me your name?” she didn’t sound like she was asking, more like demanding in a kind way. so you scratch your chin in an irritated manner, “it’s y/n. and yo—“

“georgia!” she cuts you off, removing one of her hands to extend towards you—for a handshake. you slowly take her hand in yours, shaking it firmly. after this interaction, the room is filled with a less than awkward silence—as she lets you return to your guitar. she doesn’t leave your room, though, finding herself walking around and messing with your little knickknacks. if it were anyone else, you’d chastise them and demand they’d leave, but there was something different about georgia… and it didn’t just have to do with her beauty.

“you’ve gotta let me come see you perform. do you have anything planned while you’re home?” your head raises in shock, she wanted to come see you perform? this was new, but definitely not discouraged, “uh yeah.. sometime we perform at bars in boston when i’m home, we’re performing at lucky’s lounge this saturday, you should totally come” if anyone else saw you, they’d say you were babbling, but it was rare for your mom’s friends to be interested in your work beyond comparing you to their own kids.

suddenly, your mother is at the doorway, “georgia? you said you were using the bathroom?”

“yes—i got lost and…asked sweet y/n here to remind me where the bathroom was”

“right..well come on! our favorite movie is on”

you give georgia a confused look on her way out, “really? the bathroom?” you had mouthed and she just shrugged, sending you a wink before she disappears down the hall.

ᯓ★

you hadn’t expected georgia to actually show up, so when you spotted her in the crowd, you pressed your hand down against the guitar strings too hard, causing a loud screech.

your bandmates glance at you as you quickly recover, but you find yourself staring at georgia for the rest of the set, she seemed to genuinely enjoy the music. you were shocked by this, she didn’t seem the type—but maybe you were just used to suburban parents. one of your bandmates grabs your arm as you start walking in the opposite direction as them, “you guys hit the bar, i’ll catch up with you” you insisted, yanking your arm away from them as you continue on your way to find georgia. and oh do you find her, you nearly bump into her—guitar swinging a bit against your back as you quickly make as much space as physically possible in the bar between the two of you.

georgia only chuckles at your attempt to get away from her, “you were amazin’! honestly i’ve never seen someone have so much skill with their…hands” the pause makes you flush for a reason you can’t quite pinpoint, but you simply try to laugh it off.

“thank you, it’s rare that wellsbury mom’s like that sorta stuff” as you speak you realize you were sweating quite a lot, likely from the activities you were doing on that stage, “sorry i’m probably dripping all over you” you laugh nervously, trying to back up further, but the place was too cramped

“that’s quite alright, honestly i think it’s kinda sexy”

you heart stopped, it was kinda what? your ears had to be playing tricks on you. clearly they weren’t as georgia took ahold of your studded belt, yanking you close to her, “i’ve always thought rockstars were super hot” she whispered in your ear boldly, bringing her lips down to brush against yours. you push her away lightly in shock, more nervous laughs leaving you involuntarily, “i’m sorry—it’s just that…you’re my mom’s friend…and that would be—wrong” you come to the crushing realization that its hard to articulate your words in a moment like this.

you realize in a second that she’s giving you fuck me eyes, her hand never leaving your belt, “okay peach…let me atleast walk you home? your mom… won’t be there” she speaks lowly and you almost miss her words due to the volume in the bar.

as if comically on time, that same bandmate from earlier walks up, grabbing your arm once more, “stop flirting with the damn wellsbury moms, alex has us hooked up with those university chicks” georgia’s face flickers through a few emotions you can’t make out with the strobe lights, but you slowly look between your friend and georgia, as if making a decisio—in a second, you do, “sorry dude, i’ll pass. i have a headache and i want to head home” georgia smirks at your response, grabbing ahold of your hand and leading you out of the bar—a confused glance by your friend follows you both to the exit.

once outside the bar, you get a look at georgia—she looked beautiful. black skirt with a skull black crop top and a red smokey makeup look. as if knowing what you were thinking, georgia speaks up, “ya like? i stole it from my daughter”

you can only laugh in response, mesmerized by her, “yeah—i do like” is all you can manage to get out, but noticing her shivers, you instinctively slide your leather jacket off, handing it over to her, “here”

“my hero” georgia drawls as she puts the jacket on, looking at you before her eyes widen and she bursts out into laughter, “i didn’t notice in the bar, but all that sweatin’ and your face paint is comin off” your eyebrows raise in surprise and you instinctively move your hands up to touch your face.

georgia grabs your wrists before they can reach, “you’ll just smudge it more!” the shock of being grabbed causes you to stumble back—now you find yourself pinned against the wall by georgia. there is about six agonizingly long seconds before the woman pulls away quickly, as if being knocked out of a trance. once back at your house, you both find yourselves sitting on the couch with a glass of wine—yours left untouched, you weren’t much of a wine person.

“tell me the truth, why’d you come home? you could’ve been bangin’ hot college chicks” you don’t respond to her, in all honesty it felt like a trap. georgia seems amused by your silence—it let her come to her own conclusions, “maybe you wanted to bang your mom’s friend instead” you gulp, fuck. what kind of effect did this woman have on you? you watch as georgia gently grabs your hand and starts leading it up her skirt, “i’ve always wanted to fuck a guitarist..i hear they’re amazin’ with their fingers” she breathes out, stopping your hand at her panties and grinning darkly at you.

“fuck it” you mutter, leaning over and using your other hand to yank her into a kiss. you find yourself ontop of georgia, your body pinning hers to the couch as you begin rubbing her through her panties. she moans into your mouth, your kisses becoming hungrier as your makeup begins to smear off onto the older woman. her hands slide up your shirt littered with holes, placing her hands on your back and pulling you impossibly closer to her.

your makeout session is cut short by the sound of the front door opening. you leap off her, grabbing your guitar off the floor and angrily pointing at her, “you said she wouldn’t be home!” you whisper angrily, sprinting up the stairs as your mother walks into the living room.

“georgia i—is that y/n’s jacket?”

#ginny and georgia #ginny & georgia #ginny & georgia netflix #georgia miller #georgia miller x reader #ginny and georgia x reader

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