#when you’re technically already writing an AU | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

borathae · 7 months

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"Yoongi can’t talk right now. He is so ruined and it’s only been seconds. This is going to be the biggest torture you ever made him go through. Being touched and licked should have prepared him for your pussy, but it didn’t. When you played with him, Yoongi noticed the spell but it felt more like very intense edging to him. He is starting to realise that this is so much more."

Pairing: Vampire!Yoongi x Witch!Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Smut, domestic Fluff

Warnings: switch!Yoongi, switch!Reader, this goes from Dom to subbiest!Yoongi, he is all cocky at first but then turns into the whiniest baby, i love when men submit :), he spanks her casually and talks about putting her over his lap, it’s not in a sex related context but with heavy sexual undertones, she is such a tease when she subs ahaha, and a sexy demon when she Doms, explicit flirting, dirty talk, istfg the tension between them, a lil bit of dry humping, sex spells, magical orgasm control, strength & size kink, she lifts him onto the counter to feel him up, stripping, he sits on her lap as she gives him a handjob, edging, praise, good boy kink, she calls him kitten, he calls her Mistress, begging, sexy possessiveness, messy nipple sucking, blowjob, deep throating, CBT, masochist!Yoongi, she rides him, his big vampire cock makes an appearance, so much cum besties, subby boy tears, his fangs make an appearance too, she fucks him into non-verbal subspace, dollification in the sense that he can't move anymore cause it feels so gooood, this is both the kinkiest sex ever but also deeply emotional for him, you know me there's gonna be an emotional conversation at the end, they're in love :(

Wordcount: 11.4k

a/n: listen besties, you know my thoughts on them. i can't form any more words. i just love them and i want them to be happy always 🤎

“My love?” you say, sitting down next to him and draping your arm over his tummy.

He was lounging in his living room, writing lyrics in his notebook when you interrupted him.

“What do you want?” he asks, not looking up.

“Why do you think that I want something?”

“You’ve got your needy princess voice on.”

“I don’t have a needy princess voice”, you mumble with a pout.

Yoongi lowers his pen and gives a look, cocking his right brow up.

“Even if I do”, you give up, “you can at least give me a chance to voice it.”

He lowers his book to his lap and turns just a little so you are facing him better.

“I’m all ears.”

“Okay so”, you begin by taking his hands and bouncing on the sofa excitedly, “I’ve been thinking and I wanna show you something.”

“Okay?”

“Here. This”, you place a piece of paper into his palm, “read it.”

Yoongi sighs in defeat and reads whatever secret you put onto the paper. He looks attentive at first, but soon his expression changes into utter surprise and shock until landing on confusion.

“Where did you get this from? I didn’t show you that yet.”

You snicker mischievously, grabbing his thigh to shake his leg.

“What do you think of it?”

“I wanna know where you got this from. That’s not the magic we’ve been practicing.”

“Tae. He had this really interesting book on sex magic and he gave it to me and I went through lots of spells with him already. This was one of them.”

“Princess”, Yoongi says in his scolding voice, lowering his eyes at you, “what did I tell you about doing new magic behind my back?”

“Technically you said that I knew enough control these days that I can feel safe in myself.”

“Yeah and then I followed it up by telling you to discuss new magic with me before trying it. Perfect control doesn’t mean being master of all magic. You can still get hurt or hurt others. This is crazy”, he says, lifting the piece of paper to wave it in the air, “you’re not ready for this kinda stuff.”

“But I am.”

“What do you mean?” he squints his eyes, “princess, what did you do?”

“I’m only gonna tell you if you promise not to get mad.”

He squints his eyes even harder, making it difficult for him to see. But he doesn’t need to see clearly right now, to see the utter mischief in your eyes. You may pretend to be sorry right now, but you aren’t. You are completely and utterly confident in your past sins and Yoongi is meant to accept them all. He loves that you feel safe enough with him to feel no fear in confessing to him, but he also hates that your trust in him means that you will act reckless way too frequently.

“Fine”, he grumbles through gritted teeth, “I won’t get mad.”

“Okay so, I practiced with Tae. Many, many times until I was good at it. Then I practiced it on Tae and at first it didn’t work, but the second time we tried it I was able to control it for ten minutes. And by the third time we tried it, I managed to do it for an entire session.”

“Fucking hell, this is giving me a headache”, he murmurs, massaging the bridge of his own nose, “what else? I get a feeling that’s not it.”

“Of course not. I did it a few more times with Tae and it went splendidly with all of them. And then I did it, okay so remember how Kook and I went on a camping trip?”

“You did it to Kook?!” Yoongi gasps, “are you outta your mind? Princess, don’t do that.”

“No, it’s not like that. I did it to him and it went well”, you calm him down, taking his hands, “it went really well. So well actually that I gave him a Ripper high without blood.”

Yoongi gawks. The silence between you and him is heavy, but not uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry, you did what?”

“I gave him a Ripper high without the blood, just by controlling his orgasms and making him cum really hard.”

“Stop fucking with me.”

“I’m not. This actually happened. Ask Kook.”

Yoongi studies your face with distrust in his eyes.

“Go on, ask him”, you stress, shaking his arm.

“No, don’t be weird”, he whines and shakes you off, “I’m not gonna ask him that. Goddamn it princess, I wanna be so mad at you right now. You’re so reckless. Do you even have an idea what could have gone wrong? What you could have done? What-”

You silence him by kissing his lips. Deep and passionately. With your hands cradling his face and your tongue tasting his surprised gasps. Deeper. You need him to forget he ever wanted to be mad at you.

You climb his lap, hook your arms behind his head to pull him close. Yoongi sounds so utterly helpless underneath you. His thighs keep pressing together and his fingers cling to your body desperately. How obviously ruined he is. Just from simple kisses.

You break them because you know that you’ve got him enchanted.

“Nothing happened”, you whisper.

“If you think that I’m just okay with it because you kiss-”

You kiss him again, even deeper than before.

Yoongi shakes you off, “princess, stop that. You-”

You pull him back into the kiss, silencing his growl of complaint by stuffing his mouth with your tongue. His fingers twist your jumper at the back, his throat produces a small keen of helplessness. His tongue tangles with yours. He couldn’t even control it happening. It was instinct.

Your fingers begin scratching him behind his ear. He’s sensitive there, resulting in his chest to rub against yours as he arches his back.

He’s distracted. Good. Your plan has worked.

You break the kiss again, basking in the desperate sigh he lets out. His pouty lips chase you. You know that he wants more. Good. He can’t think about scolding you if he craves your kiss.

You flutter your eyes open once you are far away enough that you can comfortably look at him. He has his head tilted back and his eyes half-lidded. They switch between staring at your lips and gazing at your eyes.

“Don’t do that”, he whispers.

“Just needed you to shut up”, you answer him as your fingers play with his hair at the nape of his neck. You know how much this makes him shiver. He gets so weak because of hairplay.

Yoongi chuckles deeply, sliding his hands to your butt. He spanks you with both hands. Hard enough to make it tingle and to force your body to flinch into him instinctively. You even let out a surprised moan, arching your back.

“Say shit like that again and I’ll put you over my lap”, he warns, rubbing the tender spots on your pulsating buttocks, “understood?”

“You’re being unreasonable”, you argue, earning yourself another spank. You had hoped that it would. It burns so good, making you sigh his name.

“Are we understood?” he stresses as his big, manly hands rub your tender flesh. His touch feels addictive.

“Yes”, you get out, “yes, we’re understood.”

“Good girl. I like you so much better when you listen”, he praises and runs his hands along your waist. Up and down, back and forth. His touch feels like electricity on your skin.

“Yoongi”, you sigh, grinding on his lap instinctively. The spanking made you needy, “Yoongi, I wanna try the spell on you.”

His touch stops. Silence. His eyes are widened as he stares at you.

“I’m sorry?” he gets out.

“I wanna do it with you.”

“Why do you wanna do that?” Yoongi gasps with widened eyes.

“I don’t know, I just thought that it could be fun”, you say, shrugging your shoulders.

“You’re just gonna mess it up”, he is pretending to be against it. You can see it in his eyes.

“I know I can do it and you’re the only one who didn’t get to experience that yet”, you try harder.

“I’m three thousand years old. What makes you think I never experienced that before?”

“Because you were a brooding loner, who didn’t wanna be touched, for most of it”, you throw back.

“Wow”, he lets out and laughs. It’s heavy in amusement. His hands slide to your ass, taunting you because they aren’t lifting for a spanking again, “I was a perv for the first few centuries. You know that I was.”

“Yeah well, then you didn’t experience it with me yet”, you throw back.

Yoongi smirks. He’s so sexy when he does that you feel your heart flutter at the view.

“I’m busy with lyrics.”

“That’s okay. We can do it whenever you have time.”

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t act stupid”, he says and picks you up so he can lie you down on the sofa. He hovers above you, pressing his crotch against yours, “you’re so fucking wet already and you wanna act all innocent with me”, he rasps, rolling his hips into you, “as if I have the choice to still say no.”

“You always have a choice. You just gotta be stronger than your urges and stop getting affected by my smell.”

“You’re a brat”, he says as his amused smirk grows, “fuck, I wanna make you cry on my cock.”

You shudder. He’s driving you insane. He can be so dirty-mouthed if he wants to.

“You can only do that after I made you shake”, you tell him, earning yourself a deep growl from him.

“See? I have no fucking choice.”

“Yeah, you do.”

His eyes gleam in the thrill of this little game you are playing. He closes the distance between your lips, needing your kiss. The tug was too unbearable otherwise. He is so hungry for you.

You however, turn your head away. It results in his lips to mouth at your jawline. He lets out a chuckled whine, dragging his fangs over your skin without pressure.

“Don’t deny me”, he whispers deeply.

“I don’t wanna kiss right now”, you lie, twisting his hair playfully.

“Yeah, you do. You just get off on being cruel”, he rasps and nibbles on the spot where your jawline meets your ear.

“Maybe. Or maybe I just don’t wanna get lost in something which isn’t my plan.”

“Plans can change.”

“No”, you laugh and push at his chest harsh enough that he has to sit up. You sit up as well. Your legs are tangled together, your middles pressed closed. “Not this plan. I still have lots to do. Potions to brew and bottles to fill, so you still have a few hours to think about your answer.”

“And if I say no?”

“Then you can have my kiss and you can make me cry on your cock.”

“See? That sounds like a good plan.”

“Definitely, but I also know that you’re only pretending to be against my plan.”

Yoongi chuckles, cocking his right brow up.

“Brat”, he says, making you grin victoriously.

“Yeah, I know”, you say and untangle yourself from him. You get up from the couch even if Yoongi tries so hard to keep you with him. In the end however, his hands slip from your hips and he is left feeling cold and desperate while you look down at him.

You run your hand through his hair. Yoongi tilts his head back instantly, looking at you with half-lidded eyes.

“Think about it”, you tell him, “I gotta go back to work.”

You step back, but Yoongi manages to snatch your hand. He holds it tightly, guiding it to his lips so he can kiss it.

“Stay. Don’t go”, he begs, looking up at you with pleading puppy eyes.

You really want to stay. Hell, you want to kiss him and touch him and allow him to make you feel so good that you cry. But you can’t. The game of chase is too much fun with him and you know for a fact that Yoongi loves it just as much. There are many occasions where you turn each other on without acting on it instantly. The thrill of denial and the desperate hunt which follows, makes the sex all the more intense.

“I’m sorry, I can’t”, you tell him and slip your hand out of his hold.

“Princess”, he pleads, but you step back.

“I’m in my kitchen. Yeah?” you tell him and turn to leave.

“Fuck”, Yoongi drops in the sofa, running his hand through his hair, “you’re so fucking cruel.”

You are in the doorframe, looking over your shoulder. The playful smirk you send him, makes him crazy.

“See you later”, you coo and finally turn to truly leave.

You spend the next hours getting needier and needier. You just can’t stop imagining all the possibilities of tonight and as your mind produced vivid images of Yoongi being lost in pleasure, it couldn’t help but wander to past evenings with him. Shared moments of intense pleasure run through your mind and make you all the more desperate for him. It may sound peculiar, but you love those feelings. Thinking about sex with him is just as exciting as actual sex with him. You love swimming on those thoughts and especially when you know that your near future will include sexy times with him. The knowledge makes the fantasising just all the more sweet.

You managed to fill an impressive amount of potions in the time you thought about Yoongi.

You made a deal with Maël and the Seville pack to deliver potions for the upcoming blue moon next week. The wolves want to strengthen their lifespan and asked you to deliver the needed potions for it. The ritual will be a werewolf only event, but you are allowed to see the preparations with the explanation that you are Min Yoongi’s mate. It is honestly remarkable which places you are allowed to enter without question because you are his love. It is also very nerve-wrecking to think about which important people trust your magic because they know that Yoongi has his entire trust in you. You are obviously excited about all the opportunities, but if you told your past self what kind of life she would be living one day and what kind of job she would be pursuing, she would have called you crazy. You’re a witch, delivering potions to an established and highly important werewolf pack and you are helping your vampire Creator mate keep the peace between the supernatural factions. Goddamn, your life is awesome.

There is a sudden knock on your door. Your heart does somersaults in your chest, your knees almost give up on you. He is here. Yoongi is finally here. You check the clock. It’s not even been two hours. It felt so much longer than that however.

“Yes?” you call out, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

The door opens and in steps Yoongi. He seems to have taken a shower as he is in a rope and nothing else. The rope is black with golden dragons on the material and a golden belt. His long raven hair is tied into a bun.

“Oh? Hey there”, you tell him as calmly as possible, while your heart is almost giving up in your chest. You pretend to be busy with wrapping rope around the potion necks, whilst in reality you are just waiting for him to make a move.

The door locks.

Your heart races even more.

Yoongi is by your side within seconds, wrapping his arms around you from behind and connecting his lips with the side of your neck. His big hands squeeze you while his strong arms pull you against him. You stumble because of it, but Yoongi holds you with enough strength that you barely even notice the stumble. He sways you from side to side slowly, helping you instantly float on the sensation of being close.

You feel light-headed. Fantasising about being intimate with him made you so sensitive that his neck kisses feel like paradise right now.

“You were being fucking awful with the shit you pulled”, Yoongi rasps, “telling me all this shit and then just leaving. You think I was able to actually be productive these past two hours?”

You can feel his voice against your back. You press yourself closer because of it.

“I was just saying. It was just an idea.”

“Stop fucking around”, he warns, guiding his lips to the shell of your ear, “you knew what you were doing.”

You smile. Of course you knew what you were doing, that’s why you did it in the first place.

“And what is your answer?” you ask him.

“If we are gonna do this, I need you to promise me not to tell anyone.”

“Of course I won’t. It’s our secret.”

“Good girl”, he praises and turns you in his arms. He presses you against the countertop, staring you down with dark, enchanting eyes. You feel so drawn to him. You touch his chest.

“So how are we gonna do this?” you ask him.

“Not so fast. I’m not done yet”, he says and takes your hands to guide them behind your back. He steps closer this way, making you gulp as you look at him. He lowers his voice, caressing your wrists as he keeps you pinned, “I need you to promise me that if I won’t react as well to the spell, to not get disappointed.”

“What? You mean that you’re too strong for it? Like you are too strong for the rope spell?” you taunt, staring at his lips.

Yoongi tugs his brows together, making you snicker victoriously.

“Don’t worry about it, my love. It’s okay to be nervous”, you tease him as you rub his chest.

His frown grows, but you know not to be intimidated. He is just embarrassed to be caught in a lie.

You run your hands to the nape of his neck and begin to play with the hair he didn’t put into the bun.

“Anything else?” you ask him.

“You’re a brat”, he mumbles.

“I know”, you grin, “and you love it. Be honest.”

His frown softens. He steps closer, sliding his big hands to your hips. He lowers himself, you do the same. You are resting against the desk in a way so that your legs are between his’ and he can look down at you. Your weight, you support with your elbows propped on the countertop.

The tension is unbearable. Your lips are only a tilt of the head away from feeling the other’s kiss.

“Kiss me right now”, he orders in a rasp, staring at your lips with half-lidded eyes.

“And if I won’t?”

“I’m gonna get my kiss regardless.”

“Is that a threat?”

“This is the truth.”

You giggle, “oh Yoongs, you are so delightful.”

Yoongi gazes at your lips.

“Kiss me”, he whispers.

You lift yourself. Yoongi moans, parts his lips and closes his eyes. He is so eager to kiss. With a fluttering heart, you watched it happening. You giggle and lower yourself again.

Yoongi opens his eyes.

“Please”, he begs, cupping your cheeks. He lets his words swirl over your lips, “give me permission to kiss you.”

“You’re so cute”, you whisper.

Yoongi moves his lips as if he was already kissing you, letting out a pained sound.

“I’m begging you, allow me. Please.”

“I don’t even have to enchant you to get you begging”, you taunt, inching closer.

Your lips ghost over his’. Yoongi moans softly, squeezing your cheeks. He doesn’t move in. Not until you initiate it. The denial aches.

“You’re a delight”, you whisper and push him away from you

Yoongi stumbles back, looking so utterly hurt. You take his waist and switch your roles, pushing him against the counter. One surprise movement later, he sits on top of it, pressing his legs together in embarrassment.

“Why would you do that?” he complains.

“Because I can”, you are smiling up at him and kneading his hips, “now stop pressing those legs together and let me get a peek.”

Yoongi follows without hesitation, gawking at you with his eyes slowly getting softer in submission. He knew that he would be the submissive tonight and he loves it. He feels so excited about it. You are such a good Dom and you know him like no other. He trusts you, he can be naked with you, vulnerable and utterly himself and you wouldn’t judge him. Which is why he loves it when you’re bossy. Yoongi loves being a helpless slut just following your orders.

You slide your hands to his inner thighs, sending electricity through his veins. You massage them gently, never going past the hem of his rope. He wants you to go past. He currently exists for nothing else than your touch.

“You’ve got the softest thighs, my love”, you gush and look into his eyes, “I want to exchange safewords with you.”

“Snowdrop.”

“That’s right and is it okay for me to control the scene?”

He nods his head, opening his legs further. You are caressing his skin mindlessly as you talk and it feels so good.

“Say it.”

“Yes, it’s okay.”

“Good boy. Is it okay for me to take off your clothes and to touch you?”

“Yes, it’s okay.”

“Both?”

“Why are you asking so many questions? You’ve been torturing me for two hours, please I wanna be touched and cum in your hands”, he whines, cracking you up.

You bounce on the spot, blinding him with your smile. Your fingers knead his flesh. It tickles uncomfortably which forces Yoongi to whine and push them away. You change your grip, now caressing him again. This all happened within seconds as you smiled at him.

“You won’t cum for a long time, kitten. So get that outta your head.”

Yoongi gulps, opening his legs even more. He looks so, so needy this way. And like such easy prey. He even arches his back so his nipples would slip out of the rope accidentally. So perky and dainty. He’s got the prettiest nipples. You ogle them for a moment then look back at his face.

“And second of all, I fucking love you acting this way. My pretty slut, mhm?”

Yoongi rolls his hips against nothing. His skin is charged in sensitivity, his body feels fuzzy. With just your eye contact, your simple touch and your words, Yoongi already feels fucked. Shit, you are such a safe space for him. You make it so easy to switch from his normal – careful and wary – headspace to his sub headspace.

“One last question, promise”, you say, running the back of your nails up and down his inner thighs. Yoongi places his hands behind his back, putting his weight on them just so he can arch into your touch.

“Please hurry up”, he stresses, hurting unbearably. He needs your touch on his cock. It hurts so bad to be denied.

“Is it okay for me to go with the flow or do you need me to ask for consent each time I do something new?”

“I wanna be touched”, Yoongi begs.

“Answer my question, kitten.”

“Don’t ask for consent, just touch me. I’ll say if I don’t want something.”

“There we go, that’s all I needed to know. Thank you for being such a good cooperator, kitten. Such obedience needs to be rewarded”, you say and slip your hands from his thighs.

You twist the golden belt between your fingers and open the loose knot with one tug. The fabric still hides him, but you open it. You want to see him and marvel at his beauty. His ivory skin glows golden in the candlelight, his dark nipples are swollen and against his soft tummy, his hard cock stands impatiently and aches for your touch. His velvety cockhead is flushed, the thick veins on his cock pulsate as he gets harder under your greedy eyes.

“Look at that. You’re already hard”, you gush, looking up at him, “kitten, you’re so hard.”

“I’m so needy.”

“Of course you are. My needy kitten.”

You run your fingertips to his tummy. Up, up, up until you can trace his pecs and down again. Teasing. You trace the outline of his cock on his tummy without touching him on his cock.

“Please touch me”, Yoongi begs. He’s such a good boy with you, always so eager to beg.

“I am.”

“Touch my cock, please”, he tries, arching his back.

“You’re such a fucking delight, my kitten”, you rasp and step closer. Your fingers slide to his waist, your lips connect themselves with his chest. Your teeth take his right nipple and play with it hungrily. Your lips suck him swollen, your tongue tastes his skin.

Yoongi feels lightheaded while his nipple feels charged in pleasure. Every touch, kiss, lick and bite feels better than the last. He thought that he couldn’t get any needier, but he was wrong.

“___”, Yoongi begins moaning your name. That means a lot with him. Your name doesn’t fall from his lips often. Only when he feels deeply and overwhelmingly emotional. Being pushed deeper and deeper into the safest, most pleasurable subspace is definitely one of the most intense emotions he can experience. Your name feels like relief during those moments, your syllables taste like candy on his tongue.

You switch sides. You are a very fair Dom after all. His nipples need to be worshiped equally. He has such a pretty pair of them. Once his left nipple feels as swollen as his right, you lift your head.

His cheeks are flushed. He is breathing heavily. Your thumbs stay on his nipples, rolling circles into them.

“Be my good kitty and take off your rope”, you order him.

Yoongi obeys. The rope falls onto the countertop and stays there.

“There we go. Look at you.”

Yoongi is entirely naked while you are still dressed. If his past self could see him right now, he would actively make sure never to meet you just so he doesn’t have to get naked in such a demeaning way. But Yoongi isn’t his past anymore. Yoongi is in love and he is happy and he found his safe home with you, which means that being naked while you were dressed feels good to him. Maybe even empowering because of how incredibly smitten you look.

“I want to worship you for hours, my love”, you tell him as you run your hands over his torso.

“Because I’m beautiful?” he asks shyly, earning himself your eye contact.

“Say that again.”

“Do you want to worship me because I’m beautiful?”

Your heart does somersaults in your chest.

“Do you think that you’re beautiful?” you can barely get the words out.

“Yes”, he whispers, lowering his head shyly.

“Holy shit”, you press out. Your hands cradle his face, your eyes sparkle as you make him look at you, “holy shit, Yoongi my love. You, you never said that- you, oh god, are so beautiful, oh my love”, you choke out and squeeze his cheeks.

Yoongi feels great. Nothing hurts. Except his cock. Oh god, he is thinking of it again.

“Can you touch my cock?” he begs, “please, I was a good boy”, and he bargains.

“I can, just not here. Follow me, my love”, you say and take his hands to tug him off the countertop.

He hops off and follows you to the sofa. You twirl and fall, tugging him down with you by his hips. Yoongi stumbles and falls onto your lap, gawking at you with widened eyes.

“What the hell?” he says.

“You like it?”

“Why should I, I like it? You tugged me down and that’s it.”

“No, I meant do you like this?” you ask him and wrap your hand around his cock to jerk him off.

Yoongi gasps, writhing desperately as his legs squeeze around your thighs. His eyes widen for just a second before his lids flutter and a breathy "ah" slips past his lips.

The first touch won’t ever lose its spark. Yoongi has to moan again because all the mental and physical teasing made him unbearably sensitive.

You place your unoccupied hand on the small of his back and tilt his hips so his cock thrusts into your palm. Then you continue your rhythm, running your skilled hand up and down his entire length.

“Do you like this? Mhm?” you repeat your question.

“Yeah”, Yoongi gets out, writhing on your lap. This position is a first for him. To sit on your lap and have you touch his cock. He feels so vulnerable and small in this position and it’s messing with his already dizzy head.

Yoongi lowers his head, looking down at where your hand makes him feel electric. His tip is glistening in his excitement.

You run your fingers to it and give him a squeeze, forcing more droplets to leak out of him. The sensation combined with the visual makes Yoongi moan.

It was soaked in surprise, shock, pleasure and submission with a hint of embarrassment in the end.

“Look at you”, you have your sexy, powerful voice on. The kind of voice which makes Yoongi’s knees weak, “you’re leaking like crazy”, you say and massage his pink tip in strong squeezes. You have him between your thumb and pointer finger, using the grip to really make him leak.

And he does. Oh, how he leaks. He gets so wet for you. He gets especially wet when you are helping him fall into his small subspace. And tonight. Oh tonight, you pushed him into it with one simple act. The act of sitting him down on your lap and playing with his cock.

“Look at all of this. You’re so wet for me, kitten.”

Yoongi falls even further, arching his back so the tip of his cock moves between your fingers. He closes his eyes and scrunches his nose. A breathy, “fuck” follows. So quiet and shy only you can hear it.

You watch him, feeling your tummy churn in excitement. His cheeks are rosy, his pretty button nose is scrunched up and his dark hair frames his delicate face messily.

“You’re so pretty”, you praise him, “my pretty kitten.”

“Please”, he chokes out and lowers his head. His body writhes on your lap, his cock throbs between your fingers.

“Yoongi, love”, you speak sickeningly sweet, placing your fingers under his chin to tilt his head up, “don’t hide your pretty face from me. Open your eyes.”

Yoongi obeys, looking at you with droopy, glassy eyes and his lips parting as he keens shyly. He can barely keep up eye contact. It makes him feel so shy that his tummy keeps fluttering. But he doesn’t want to disobey you. Not when you touch him so good and not when you look so pretty.

“That’s better. You have such beautiful eyes”, you say and smile, “keep looking at me, kitten.”

“___”, he whispers shakily, cupping your face as his hips roll back and forth on your lap. Like this, his balls and tender hole grind against you, sending bolts of warm pleasure through his middle. His palms are clammy. You know that it is because of a mixture of pleasure, coyness and the intense warmth his body produces because he is with his soulmate. His touch feels so alive on your skin, because this is how you make him feel.

“That’s it, don’t you dare look away”, you praise, rewarding him with the best touch Yoongi ever felt on his cock. Nobody feels like you do. Nobody makes him feel so good.

Yoongi mewls and runs his clammy hands to your jaw. He cradles it for just a second then his hands slip to the sides of your neck.

“My handsome prince”, you whisper, “you’re my handsome, pretty love.”

“You’re making me cum”, Yoongi chokes out and pulls a face of devastated pleasure.

“Thank you for telling me”, you say and retreat your touch, caressing his thigh instead.

“No”, Yoongi breathes and squirms, “please…”

“You’re such a good boy for telling me.”

“Don’t edge me, please”, he begs and tries to tug your hand back to his aching cock.

“You’re cute. I take it that I can start with the spell now?”

“What spell?”

“The orgasm control spell. Yoongi love, that’s why we’re doing this tonight. Did you already forget?” you ask in a fond snicker and your loving hands caressing his waist.

“Oh”, Yoongi lets out.

He was so lost in pleasure that he forgot the true purpose of tonight. He is so deep in subspace that he forgot the only reason why you are touching him is because of the spell. He feels a little sad at that thought, lowering his eyes.

“Unless you don’t want it anymore. Then we can do something else”, you say.

He shakes his head, “I want it, but I’m, I don’t know, I need reassurance.”

“Of course, oh Yoongi you’re my most loved. Yeah?” you say and slide your hand to his cock, “and I’m gonna make you see stars”, you add in a rasp as you run your hand up and down the underside of his cock.

Yoongi moans softly, closing his eyes and slipping his hands to your shoulders.

“Don’t stop”, he whispers and adds a breathy, “please, Mistress.”

“Okay. I won’t stop. Is it okay for me to do the spell when I notice you getting close again?”

Yoongi nods his head.

“I need to hear it.”

“Yes, surprise me with it. Please, holy fuck, don’t stop.”

“There we go, that’s what I like from you. You’re such a good boy voicing your consent like that”, you praise him as your thumb massages his most sensitive spot.

He writhes and moans softly, “fuck. There.”

“Yeah, right there. You’re such a good boy, my love. Such a good boy.”

“Okay please”, Yoongi reaches down and laughs panickedly, “be quiet.”

You snicker, “close?”

“Yeah…“

“You’re so cute”, you say and cup his cheek, “come here, kitten.”

Yoongi leans down. Your lips brush his forehead. A hot, breathtaking sensation shoots through his body. A big, unbreakable knot forms deep in his tummy and his cock suddenly feels like exploding. Not literally but he swears, one wrong touch and he would shoot cum everywhere. Except that there are touches on his cock and no matter how good they feel, he can’t let go.

You pull your head back, studying his face.

“Shit, ah”, he gasps, opening and closing his mouth as he tries to make sense of his own state, “what did you do? Ah.”

“See? And you wanted to tell me that you’ll be too strong for the spell.”

He somehow manages to open his eyes. They are filled with devastation.

“It shouldn’t feel like this.”

“Does it hurt?”

He shakes his head.

“What else?”

“I can’t, I can’t cum. But I want to. Please don’t edge me, I don’t know what- ah-”, he stutters, ending his senseless rambling by rolling his eyes back and closing them. His nose scrunches up, his fingers dig into your shoulders as his body begins fighting the enchantment. He keeps grinding and humping and bouncing on your thigh, all while his cock throbs and pulsates between your fingers.

“Look at you. You’re such a needy kitten. Look at you trying to cum”, you say and giggle maniacally, “you’re so cute.”

“Fuck. Shit”, he gasps and tugs your hands away. “Oh”, he startles because of his own reaction, looking at you with big eyes. His hands grasp themselves and move up to hide his lower face behind them, “sorry”, he mumbles into his little fists.

“You’re okay”, you soothe him, “I can stop this again. It’s not your taste, is it?”

“I don’t know”, he confesses and looks at his cock. It is swollen and pink. So pink it borders red. He drops his right hand and wraps it around his cock. He still covers his mouth with his left hand, changing the grip once his own touch meets his length. He squeezes his own cheeks, furrowing his brows as his eyelids flutter. A deep purr rumbles in his chest, his thighs squeeze your own. His own touch feels so different than yours. You have the softest palms while his’ are slightly calloused from fighting. He misses your softness whilst at the same time getting addicted to his rough touch.

“Fuck, please”, he begs as he tightens his fingers around his cock. He tugs on it, trying so very hard to make himself cum. He fails miserably at it, gripping your upper arm in desperation, “please princess, please.”

You watch him touch himself, caressing his twitching thighs as you do. His hand is so big around his cock. Yoongi isn’t small, he is actually the perfect length, but his huge hand makes his cock almost look tiny. He pumps it around his girth, squeezing out droplets of useless precum.

“Ah god, shit”, he presses out and speeds up his hand. Wet squelching and the needy sounds of him fill the room. He is panting like crazy, mixing in deep purrs and desperate gasps every now and then.

“There we go, touch yourself. Isn’t it fascinating? Look at your wet, little cock. Such a wet kitten cock, mhm?” you talk to him in your sexiest voice, soothing the shakes in his legs with tender touches.

Yoongi mewls loudly and drops his head against you. He humps you, fucking his cock between his naked tummy and your clothed stomach. His hands, once grasping his own body, slam down on the wall behind the sofa. He scratches his nails down as he somehow tries to make himself cum.

“Fuck”, he presses out, letting the word swirl over your face. His hips chase you quickly, giving his cock a fruitless fuck, “f-fuck.”

“Does that help?” you ask him with a fond chuckle on your lips and your hands grasping his buttocks. They are tensing uncontrollably, mirroring the desperation he currently experiences.

“No”, he croaks, “what did you do to me? I can’t cum. I want to cum, please.”

“Just say the word and I’ll stop this.”

But Yoongi doesn’t say the word. Yoongi mewls and fucks himself against you with such vigour it knocks the air out of you. And again. Again. Again. Yoongi is desperately humping you even if it makes breathing oh so hard for you.

“Stop that”, you laugh and grip his ruthless hips, “hey, you’re gonna make me have a stomach ache if you continue humping me.”

Yoongi drops onto your lap, whimpering into the crook of your neck. His hands cradle the back of your head, his body shudders.

“I can’t do this”, he gets out in a fragile voice.

“I will stop this, yeah?”

“Don’t stop please. I can’t cum. Holy shit, what did you do to me?”

“Magic”, you say and slide your hands under his thighs, “now don’t startle.”

Yoongi startles. You stood up with him in your arms and he didn’t expect it. He presses himself closer, whining about being put down.

“I’m too heavy, don’t do that.”

“You’re not heavy. Hush.”

You turn and sit him down on the sofa. Yoongi looks up at you, looking so embarrassed. He’s adorable.

You give him a grin and fall to your knees before him, spreading his thighs for him. Yoongi reacts in a thrust of his hips and his hands placing themselves over yours. You caress his skin and look up. He is breathing heavily, looking so utterly nervous yet turned on.

“My pretty kitten”, you praise and take his cock between your lips.

“Ah”, Yoongi gasps, furrowing his brows as his cock twitches into you. He is so messed up. His tummy clenches like crazy.

“Mhhhm”, you purr around him, sinking down on him until he tickles the back of your throat. You hum deliciously, swallowing around him to make it all so tight for him.

“Please”, Yoongi breathes and grips the edge of the sofa. He squirms, pressing out another “please” when you begin fucking your mouth with his cock. All while you are purring and humming and moaning around him, making him feel your voice in the most stimulating of ways. It makes him so sensitive.

Yoongi scrunches his face in desperate pleasure. He can’t cum. But he wants to cum. You feel so good. Hot, warm and soft. You keep sucking on his tip and licking the spots which are the most sensitive. Everything – every single fiber in his body – begs for him to let go, to fall into the sensations. But Yoongi can’t let go. The pressure in his tummy aches and makes breathing hard, his legs are so weak that they can’t even tremble anymore and his nails hurt from gripping the sofa. And yet he can’t cum. No matter how hard he tries.

You are at his tip again, sucking so harshly your cheeks fall in. All while your left hand is sliding to his balls and your right is jerking off his shaft. You are moaning as you feast on him, sending vibrations through his sensitive cock.

“Please”, he begs. Pleads. Whimpers. His eyes tear up. He closes them and curls his lips back as another high-pitched whimper rolls off his tongue.

“Mhhm, ah”, you slip off of him deliciously, slurping up the sweet mess he leaves just for you, “you’re so wet, kitten”, you taunt, massaging his thick vein and therefore forcing more useless precum out of his cock. It sits on his flushed tip as pretty, translucent pearls, “look at that mess. It’s so fucking useless, isn’t it?”

Yoongi takes your hand and squeezes it. You look up, meeting his glazed over eyes.

“Need a break?” you ask him to which he shakes his head, “what else? Mhm?”

“I need to cum”, he presses out.

“But you can’t. I know, you told me before”, you say and smile, kissing his knuckles softly, “don’t worry kitten, you’re in safe hands. And mouth”, you say and snicker at your joke, lowering yourself back to his cock.

Yoongi wanted to complain about your stupid joke, but couldn't because you stole his ability to speak. All he can muster are needy noises and desperate gasps for air.

You take him as deep as you can go, using the position to really push him past your throat’s limit. It’s not uncomfortable, it’s so incredibly hot to you. Especially because it makes Yoongi whimper above you and grip your head as his body slacks in utter defeat. His legs fall open further and his tummy softens as his muscles give up on him. He presses out a weak, “hngnmm” and lets his head all against the sofa and roll to the side as he is staring at you with heavy eyes.

He doesn’t use the leverage he has on your head. He truly wastes the opportunity, letting his hand lay limp on your head while you throat fuck his cock. Your left hand grips his pretty waist, your right cups his balls and tugs.

“Ah!” he yelps, thrusting into you against his will. His back arches off the cushions, his eyes roll back involuntarily. The pain was intense, gaining in intensity because your spell turned his body into one overly sensitive mess.

You slide off with a slurp, keeping your attention on his flushed tip while your hand tugs again. Harshly. The pain sits deep, but feels like paradise.

Yoongi drops his hand from your head for the sole purpose of rubbing his own face. With both hands. Desperately. Mostly to make sense of his state, but also to wipe some of the tears he spills.

Another tug on his balls reminds him that he’s your fucking slut. He throbs between your lips and chokes out an agonised sound. It is filled with so much pain and torture that you feel the need to check up on him.

“Colour?” you ask, massaging his aching balls gently.

“Green”, the word leaves him breathlessly, a small whimper follows, “please let me cum, please.”

“Mhm, I don’t know. You’re so cute when you’re like this”, you coo and kiss his tip, “my cutie.”

Yoongi touches your head before cradling your cheek. His palm is sweaty, his touch weak yet loving. You tilt your head up to see him.

“Please", he whispers, staring at you through his lashes. His dark hair hangs into his face messily. He is practically glowing in pleasure. The view makes your heart race. He is so pretty.

“You’re cute when you beg”, you say and give his balls a tug. Once stretched to their limits, you incorporate a twist to really drive the pain deep.

Yoongi’s face scrunches in pleasure, he squeaks out a “please” while his enchanted cock throbs between your fingers.

“Like this, so cute”, you squeal and giggle, “my cutie patootie”, you add in a squeak and tug on his balls, giving them a twist when it hurts the most.

Yoongi thinks that you are the cruellest person ever. Your voice and the words it produces build him up and makes him feel so loved, your eyes show him how much he is adored and yet your hands torture him as if you hated him. You are so loving and yet so cruel. Yoongi can’t function because of it.

“Mistress, please”, he begs and squeezes your cheek gently.

“My cutie”, you say and kiss his palm. Just once because then you stand up. Your torturing, amazing touch ceases to exist. Yoongi feels cold because of it, aching in his chest.

He reaches for you instantly, “don’t leave, I need you”, he pleads.

“I’m not leaving”, you assure him and slide your hands to your own clothes to undress.

“Oh”, Yoongi lets out, watching you with heavy eyes, “you’re beautiful, princess.”

“You’re beautiful too, love.”

You step out of your pants and get on his lap. Yoongi welcomes you with his hands touching your hips instantly. You slide your hands to his jaw, using a gentle grip to tilt his head up. Yoongi gazes up at you, looking so utterly ruined. Only you can get him this way. Ruined and flushed. So pretty.

“You’re gonna cum inside me. Are we understood?”

“Yes, Mistress”, he whispers as he runs his hands up and down your lower back.

A faint smile washes over you. You run your thumb to his lips to trace them. Yoongi chases you with a soft moan and his tongue darting out to lick you. You allow him, watching him lap at your thumb while his devoted eyes are gazing at you.

“Who do you belong to, Yoongi?” you ask him.

“___”, he says your name without needing to be asked.

“Yeah, that’s right”, you press out with a fluttering heart, “shit, you’re mine.”

“Yours…”

You pick up his cock and sink down on him. Yoongi’s face scrunches up. He is so overtaken by pleasure and yet he still finds the strength to press out a desperate “yours.” As if it was instinct, but it’s not instinct. It’s the result of a well-trained, loved and utterly devoted sub finding his heaven in his Dom. And it’s his desperate attempt to show you that you and only you own him. He is yours and only yours and being reunited with you is the drug his body runs on.

“That’s right. Mine”, you praise and bottom out. You caress his neck and begin moving on him. Up and down with a skilful roll in your hips to make sure he hits every single inch of you.

Yoongi presses out a desperate moan and drops his head into your chest. He hugs you close, shaking in a tearless sob. It feels so good to be fucked by you.

“You’re doing so well”, you praise him, hugging him against you with your hands deep in his soft hair.

Yoongi can’t talk right now. He is so ruined and it’s only been seconds. This is going to be the biggest torture you ever made him go through. Being touched and licked should have prepared him for your pussy, but it didn’t. When you played with him, Yoongi noticed the spell but it felt more like very intense edging to him. He is starting to realise that this is so much more. With every bounce on his sensitive cock, every clench of your soft walls, every swirl of your hips, Yoongi feels less and less in control of his own body. This is the true effect of the spell. Every second with you feels like ecstasy and yet Yoongi is denied its high. He is right at the source and yet can’t taste its sweetness on his tongue.

He forces his head to tilt back just so he can look up at you. His hair is a mess on his forehead, his eyes are barely open and his chin is still in contact with your chest.

He presses out your name until the first vowel then forgets how to talk as you slam down on his cock again and render him useless.

“You’re so handsome, my love”, you coo as you cup his cheek with your left hand. You keep your right still buried deep inside his long hair, giving him a soft tug because you know he can take it. The bun he once wore has long being ruined. You fucking love him like that. Messed up and ruffled just by you.

Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut in the most devastating of ways, hiding his face in your chest again as his throat produces the most beautiful of sounds.

“So handsome and you’re taking me so well”, you praise while you are ruining him. You bottom out, writing your name with your hips. He should remember who treats him like that. He shouldn’t forget.

Yoongi falls back because his body is weakened more and more the longer you ride him.

You fall with him, laughing because you didn’t expect it. Your hands slam onto the wall to support yourself, your boobs smother him.

“Careful baby”, you snicker.

“Yours”, he croaks and gathers your tits just to suck and lick them. He is wet and sloppy with it, giving you glimpses of his fangs and you are loving it.

“Yes baby, this feels so good”, you encourage him and use the new position to bounce on him. Your clit grinds against his lower tummy this way, while his cock hits all the right spots deep inside.

Yoongi mewls and whimpers into your tits while you feel yourself get lost as well. You are going to cum on his cock. That’s all you can think about right now. His touch, his lips, his warmth and throbbing cock paired with the feeling of having him at the tip of your fingers makes you feel so weakened.

Yoongi drops his lips from your nipple. He can’t breathe. If he doesn’t fight for air soon, he will pass out. His head is against the edge of the backrest, your tits are all in his face while you bounce him. You fuck him so hard that the impact your ass makes on his thighs is audible. You sound so wet. So goddamn wet. He feels it stick to his thighs and run down his balls. Your puffy walls keep clenching and sucking on him as you make yourself cum. Yoongi knows those motions by heart. You always start to get tighter when you are getting close. Yoongi finds it hard to control himself during such a ride on normal days, but today he is actually suffering. He wants to cum, but he can’t. He is so serious. He wants to cum, but he can’t. Why does nobody know how serious he is? He wants to cum, but can’t. He can’t. Every second feels like that one pivotal moment before he tips over the edge, but he can’t.

“Please”, he begs, scratching his nails down your back. He doesn’t even realise that he is leaving marks on your skin. All he needs you to fucking understand is that he can’t fucking cum, but he wants to so, so bad.

“I’m so close, baby”, you moan above him, caring shit about him. You are just using him and his enchanted cock. Yoongi feels so ruined, spilling tears from his ruby eyes. Your tits keep slapping his face. It’s like mockery to him. He is so desperate to make you understand him and find pity in yourself and yet you are blind to it, “so close, kitten”, you press out, squeezing around his cock, “your pretty kitten cock is gonna make me cum so good.”

Yoongi tries to beg you, but can’t. He doesn’t know how to speak. Only animalistic sounds come easy to him. They’re not of feral nature, but that of a scared, little animal getting cornered by its biggest predator. You are talking about your impending orgasm while he suffers. Yoongi feels so fucking mocked by you and as a result, he wants to kiss the very ground you walk on. You own him.

You motherfucking own him.

“So close, kitten. So fucking close”, you moan as your tits remind him what heaven is and your pussy keeps his enchanted cock on edge.

Yoongi tries to help you, but he can’t. His body is useless. He can’t even get his legs to move or his hips to meet your bounces. He genuinely feels like a stupid, little sexdoll right now. A sexdoll meant to exist for your pleasure and to be useless otherwise. You could do anything to him and he couldn’t even fight back because you ruined his body to the point of paralyzing exhaustion.

All which still works are his hands and they are currently dimpling your ass from gripping you so goddamn harshly. He’ll leave bruises in the deepest parts of your flesh, but you can’t care about this right now. Yoongi doesn’t even notice that he is bruising you. He feels numb to anything other than your hot pussy and your tits in his face. He snatches for them and manages to brush his tongue over your left nipple. It’s so weak and slow, his licks that is, and Yoongi can’t speed up even if he wants to.

“Yes Yoongi, yes. Fuck my prince, my beautiful, ah”, you moan, rutting against him. Your walls are so tight. Yoongi tries to breathe through it, but even that gets hard when you knock the air out of him each time you slam yourself down on him.

Your hands come to cup his cheeks and tilt his head up. You want to meet his gaze, but can’t. Yoongi’s eyes are glued shut, his face is crinkled in pleasure. Or agony. You can’t decide. Maybe it’s both.

“My love”, you moan and climax to the view of him, “a-ah Yoongi”, you whimper, dropping your forehead against his’ as your body shakes out of control.

Yoongi’s hands lose strength as well. Your pulsating, clenching walls are too much. Not even spilling tears is enough to show the desperation he feels at this point. But he still does. It’s the only thing he can still do besides moan like crazy and fight for air.

You come down soon, but don’t slow down as you fuck your tight walls through the overstimulation.

Yoongi tries again to produce words, “p-please n-no more”, he chokes out and tries to grip your hips, “I can’t take much more.”

“I know kitten. Almost there”, you lull your words, sounding so ruined by your high. You speed up your hips, fucking him into insanity and no control.

“No more”, he squeaks and presses out a pained, “oh”, before a sob shakes him.

“Who do you belong to?” you rasp the words against his temple.

“You”, he chokes out, spilling tears.

“Yes Yoongi, fuck”, you lull as you drag your lips to his forehead, “cum for me”, you order and kiss his forehead.

The spell drops. Yoongi screams and arches his back off the sofa to its breaking point. His head he keeps thrown back, showing view to his throat and his agape mouth. His fangs are on full display as he screams over and over again as you finally fuck him to an orgasm. His cock, once perfectly human sized, grows into his supernatural length within a second.

“Fuck, ah”, you gasp, convulsing around the sudden intense stretch. One second you need to get used to it and then you are already bouncing on him again, fucking masses and masses of hot cum out of him, “yes Yoongi, cum for me. Yes”, you growl, using the edge of the backrest as support. Shit, he is cumming so hard that it is squirting out of you and you fear that he might stuff you past your body’s limits. You can’t get enough of him, wishing for him to reach places no human should be creamed at.

“Keep cumming for me. So fucking good. You’re such a good fucking boy”, you moan while Yoongi is reduced to screaming and clawing at the couch. If he didn’t claw at it, he would hurt you. He has no control over himself right now. It scares him, but all the more it fills him with sensations he hasn’t experienced in millennia.

Yoongi thought that he knew pleasure with you. He was so sure that he couldn’t climax any harder with you. You break him and build him up just to break him again over and over each time your bodies connect in pleasure. You know his every spot and how to get him to his breaking point, you know how to keep him there until even breathing gets hard and you know how to draw it out until begging is the only thing he can do. His pleasure is on your literal fingertips and Yoongi thought that you already dragged out the deepest highs from his soul. And yet he was wrong. He was still fucking wrong.

The last time he felt that kind of high, Yoongi lived a different life. He killed for pleasure, fucked for short relief and found his highest high in the taste of blood. He was twisted and wrong and loved nothing more than the sensation of blood coating his throat. He doesn’t like to think of this time in his life, but sometimes he thinks about the highs he can’t have anymore and begins missing them. And you are dragging such a high out of him right now. Safely. Without blood spill. Two millennia without it and Yoongi finds it again at the fingertips of his beloved woman. If he didn’t already exist solely for you, he would have started to do so right here and now.

His screaming stops in sync with his back dropping against the sofa. He grows limp as paralysation sets in. Yoongi is there for it. Mentally he takes in every second of his vulnerable state and he can’t do anything against it. He should feel scared, but he doesn’t. He just feels so ruined and happy that he wants to smile but he can’t. Even that he can’t do because you fucked him into helpless paralysation.

“Good job”, you praise and slip off of him, “ah shit, I’m not peeing myself right now, it’s your cum”, you say and laugh which makes even more cum squirt out of you. It covers his thighs and drips to the ground. Truly you are leaking like a goddamn faucet. You snicker at the situation and look at Yoongi when he doesn’t respond.

He is staring at the ceiling with ruby eyes and silent tears running down his cheeks. His lips are parted and his cheeks look so…fallen in as if his muscles stopped working.

“My love?” you ask, cupping his cheek, “what’s wrong?” you say, shaking his head gently. It flops from side to side without any kind of protest from him. Like his muscles forgot how to work.

You study him with furrowed brows. Unmoving and limp. Almost as if…you widen your eyes. This is the result of a Ripper High.

“Holy shit, I gave you a Ripper high”, you gasp and press out a squeaky giggle, “oh my love, I did it!” you exclaim and begin kissing every inch of his face, “I, I did it. I knew I could do it. Oh my love, oh I love you. My love, you’re doing so well. It’s safe to come back to me, my love. Take as long as you need to, I’m right here.”

Yoongi is present for all of it. Physically he is gone, but his mind and heart are still with you. He doesn’t feel your kisses and loving touches at first. At least not on his skin, his heart still feels their effect. It swells in his chest and fills with the warmest of warmths. He knows that what you are speaking is the truth. It is safe to come back to you. There won’t be agony and guilt waiting for him, just love and the healing feeling of home.

“My beautiful, handsome love. Oh my Yoongi, I’m so happy and so proud and oh, I love you like crazy.”

Your words have an even stronger effect on his heart, affecting his mind as well and healing wounds so deep he thought they could never heal. When he lived a different life, being paralysed after his high meant that he slaughtered villages, left families ripped apart and caused nightmares to whoever was unlucky enough to survive. When he lied paralysed between the massacred bodies of his once pleasurable hunt, the guilt and pain of what he did made him cry and scream his lungs out until he stopped tensing up and he had to flee the scene with his limbs barely wanting to work.

And now he knows that once he regains control of himself, there won’t be any bodies waiting for him. Just you. Perfectly fine and unharmed.

The first kiss he feels on his skin is one at the tip of his nose. You trail them up the bridge of it and by the time, Yoongi feels your lips on his forehead the feeling in his skin returned completely. He can feel the wet mess on his lap, your warmth against his skin and your loving touch on his face.

“___”, he croaks with his voice terribly ruined.

“Hey”, you speak gently, “welcome back. You did so well, I’m so proud”, you praise, tilting his head into a kiss.

It focuses his attention on his lips and Yoongi does everything inside him to make them work first just so he can kiss you back. It happens soon. Yoongi regains control over his lips and finally kisses you back and it fills him with so much overwhelming happiness that his body regains control within the brink of a second. He loves you so much and he shows you that he does with his arms wrapping around you and his body melting with yours as he sits up and deepens the kiss.

And he kisses you. Kisses you. Kisses you. And kisses you without wanting to stop. He kisses you with you on top of his lap, kisses you with his arms around you and his hands as deep in your hair as your texture allows it, kisses you with his chest flush against yours and his throat producing the most grateful, happy whimpers.

He stands up with you in his arms, still kissing you. He keeps kissing you as his weakened knees drag him down and he falls onto the couch with you underneath him. And even then he keeps kissing you, needing you to understand what this meant to him. What you just healed. What you fucking mean to him. He swears that no kiss he shares with you is enough to show you what he feels for you. None of them is enough and so he has to keep kissing and kissing and kissing you until he finally finds the one worthy enough of his feelings.

Quite frankly, he would have kissed you for countless more hours if you hadn’t broken it for him. You had to because he barely gave you time to breathe and you felt dizzy.

“___”, his begs are instant, his lips search for your kiss but find your fingertips. The spot on your body which holds his heaven, paradise and dreams. Yoongi begins kissing them, doing so with his body trembling in emotion.

“I can’t tell if you’re upset or not”, you whisper, watching him with overwhelming feelings in your chest. You always thought that he showed you every variation of kisses he had to offer, but the way he kissed you right now was unlike any kiss you ever shared. It left you feeling overwhelmed in the best ways possible.

He tries to answer you, but can’t. He is too overwhelmed by everything he feels.

“Take your time”, you encourage him, caressing his cheek with gentle fingers while his lips still kiss your other hand.

Yoongi tries again.

“The last time I felt this high, it was surrounded by dozens of massacred bodies”, he begins with his cheek seeking your palm. You help him find it, feeling your heart grow in love when he nuzzles into you, “I hated myself so much and wanted to die.”

“Yoongi my love”, you croak, cupping his other cheek as well.

“For hundreds of years I chased this high even if I hated it. For hundreds of years feeling it meant that I killed innocent people and left others traumatised and now you-” his voice breaks as his emotions overtake him.

He opens his eyes, giving view to the tears blurring his vision.

“I love you so much”, he chokes out shakily, “I-I want to know words more honest than love, but there are none. I love you so much more than love, I can’t f-find words. I feel so much for you”, he stutters and lets his head fall into the crook of your neck. He closes his arms around you, cradling you against him as best as the position allows him, “you’re the home I always longed for, ___”, he confesses, leaving you to spill tears because it felt so good to be loved by him.

“You’re my home too, Yoongi”, you say, hugging him against you as your nose nuzzles against his face, “god, you’re making me cry”, you confess in a chuckle, “I was planning for the evening to be fun and kinky and yet here we are sobbing again.”

“I feel so much, I can’t help it.”

“That’s okay, as long as we have each other we can be little crybabies after sex”, you say and making him laugh out a sob.

“Yeah”, he says, “ah fuck”, he gets out and laughs into the crook of your neck as much as he sobs.

You snicker and hug him closer, kissing his hair, “my Yoongi.”

Being with each other is the only thing that truly matters and if one was wondering, yes Yoongi will whine about everything which happened once he regained clarity again. It will come by morning after you and he shared cuddles in your bed and he wakes up to an empty bed and a magical note telling him that you were in your kitchen. He will find you kneeling by the couch as you attempt to fix the holes he ripped into the cushions and Yoongi will sit down next to said holes and give you the shiest glances you ever saw on him and mere seconds later, you and he will talk about last night. You will be terribly excited while Yoongi will whine at first about how reckless it was, but in the end he will giggle with you and tell you how nice you made him feel and that you healed wounds he never thought capable of healing. Then you will attempt to fix the couch together, stealing kisses and snuggles way too often as your giggles just didn’t seem to want to stop.

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wonwins · 2 months

Text

moment

megumi fushiguro x reader - non sorcerer!au

you're tired from school and your amazing boyfriend knows how to brighten your mood

cw: very soft megumi, fluffy, little kisses

wc: 602

author's note ~ first fic here hehe just a short one to start :) please please give me suggestions on what to write i wanna write sm. also this fic is basically just me writing about what i want rn :((

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

14:49. you felt your vision crossing as you tried to keep your eyes open. just 11 more minutes till school was over. you sighed, even after that you couldn't go home and sleep. you still had some homework to do.

you straitened your posture in your chair, you couldn't let others see your exhaustion. you were supposed to be a role model in the class. sometimes, you really wished you weren't the class president.

the bell rang taking you out of a trance you didn't realize you were in. was i sleeping with my eyes open? you quickly packed up your things before having a quick talk with your teacher about plans for tomorrow’s class and if there were anything you needed to prepare. unfortunately, there was.

you felt your feet drag you out of the school, at snail pace. a hand grasped your shoulder stopping you in your spot. you knew who it was before you even turned around already leaning into their presence. “hi, ‘gumi” you smiled lightly.

“hi. you look tired.” megumi, your amazing but brutally honest boyfriend, said.

“i look that bad, huh?” you raised a brow almost daring him to continue.

“no, no, that's not what i meant!” he clarified, albeit slightly panicked. “you look like you could use a nap or coffee though…”

“both.” you whined, continuing your trudge out of the school.

“okay, let's go get coffee and a snack.” he smiled, taking your hand in his, leading the way.

your smile grew. you knew megumi wasn't the biggest person on pda (even if it was just hand holding) but you knew megumi was very attentive to your needs and knew in moments when you were overworked and exhausted…a little hand holding was what you needed.

the hand holding alone almost boosted your mood as you walked beside him.

you chatted lightly about each other’s day as you made your way to the coffee shop. what made you and megumi’s relationship so special was you both understood the value of talking to each other animatedly but as well quietly appreciating the small moments like this.

after you arrived, you ordered your drinks and food. megumi payed (well technically gojo did but so what), as you sat on a bench under a tree in the park across the street. shortly after megumi came over with the stuff. “thank you, love.” you breathed in the smell of the delicious roast.

after a couple minutes of you quietly drinking your drink, megumi said suddenly, “i love you.” you glanced at him in slight shock.

“what has gotten into you lately?” you asked with a chuckle, “i love you too, but that was random.”

“do i need a reason to say i love you?”

“well no but-”

“but what?” he leaned in closer. you turned your head blushing slightly. even after all this time, you still felt like you had a crush on him. he kissed the side of your head as he tucked you into his side. “you work too hard, yn. i worry sometimes and i want to make sure you know i'm here. just say the word.”

“oh, ‘gumi.” you felt tears treating to rise. “i know, thank you. you are amazing. how did i get so lucky?”

“i'm the lucky one.” he looked at you with his beautiful eyes and you couldn't help but lean in and give him a light kiss.

“you’re so cute.” you saw him blush making you giggle. suddenly you felt wide awake. if being class president somehow led you to moments like this, then you guess it's not too bad.

#megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen #megumi fluff #x reader #jjk oneshot #fluff #anime

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toxicanonymity · 1 year

Text

Silence can never be bought, only rented.

pt. 2 of 6, 2.5k | dbf!Joel x fem!reader | 18+

picks up after Pt 1 . Story Master List

Joel Miller List

“You’re right, it’s gettin’ hot." he starts unbuckling his belt and your heart skips a beat. As he pulls his tight jeans down over his bulge, his boxers start to come with them, revealing a small, circular scar, then a sliver of neatly trimmed salt and pepper hair. The glimpse makes your knees weak.

Thank you @dark-scape for the mini mood boards!

Warnings/notes: no-outbreak AU. Reader confident in string bikini, there may be more to joel than meets the eye. Legal age gap. Masturbation. cumshot. Kinda dom reader. i don't know all triggers, not used to detailed warnings in my usual fandoms sorry

NEXT: PART 3

Catch up on Part 1

-----

It's June in Texas. You packed your swimsuit this weekend. You don't know why Joel would wear a jacket in this weather anyway. Hopefully he doesn't fuck your stepmother while he's breaking it off. In the big scheme of things, one more time wouldn't make much of a difference. It's more about the fact that he's your property now.

Back at your friend's place, you plug in your phone across the room while you settle in to watch another movie. Her new sound system is badass, so you don't hear it when your phone rings, but she does.

She’s a lot closer to it than you are, so you tell her she can send it to voicemail. She leans over and looks at the screen.

“Joel." Her eyes widen. "DILF Joel??”

You scrunch your face up. “Gross, he's like 50.”

“Okay, what does non-DILF Joel want?” She rightfully uses finger quotes around "non." In the back of your mind, you always knew Joel was hot. It turns out, you had no idea.

You sigh, “Probably just checking on me while my Dad is away.” You're tempted to tell her–at least the part where Joel is fucking your stepmother–but for now, you don't. You enjoy being the only one who knows and could ruin both of them.

“So why not answer?”

“Guess I just don’t feel like talking.”

She looks at you sympathetically. She knows why you came home this weekend. You needed a change of scenery after things got messy with a guy you were seeing. “I get it,” she says. “But I promise you’re gonna be over him before you know it. Then on to the next,” she smiles.

If only it were that easy. You really don’t feel like going back and facing life. Technically Chad is right, you never defined your relationship or agreed to be exclusive. But you spent so much time together, and he said he loved you. You know he’s a chode and not at all worth your tears. You just hate feeling so powerless. On the plus side, you've barely thought about Chad at all since the moment you first saw Joel's truck this weekend.

Your phone dings. Your friend looks at it.

“Who leaves voicemail?” she asks. It dings again and her face gets serious. "Oh, shit. You should really call him. He said Trouble."

"That's just what he calls me." You suppress a smirk at the nominal determinism.

"Oh, yeah. Ugh. I hate that I'm gonna miss the HOG barbecue this year. "

HOG. . . Hot Old Guy. She really tickles herself pink with that. Your dad and Joel cook out at Joel's pool every independence day with a couple of other friends, and you normally bring her.

Your phone dings again. She looks at the screen and side-eyes it.

"What?" You ask

"You should block Chad."

You feel a rush of satisfaction followed by shame as you eagerly go over and look at the phone.

Chad: miss u already.

In a way, it’s the best possible message, but seeing the dumb way he writes, your shame is replaced by anger.

"God what an asshole," you fume. You don't respond.

You finish watching the movie, and eventually start catching up on Joel's texts. Come out and talk to me for one minute. A pit forms in your stomach. He was here? Are you that predictable?

When it's time to leave and you get to your car, there's a note. It's the same one you left on Joel's truck, the one that said You're sick. There's a response scrawled under your writing:

You have no idea.

Your heart races as you look around the street. How dare he? And why are your cheeks burning?

You start driving back to your apartment. It’s well under two hours away, it's still afternoon, and you don’t know what you'll do with the day when you get back. Laundry, you guess. You can hardly bear the thought of being back there alone with your thoughts.

Instead of 35 South to San Antonio, you find yourself on Joel's street. Joel is a successful contractor and has a nice house. Comically high-security, too. Today, the gate is already disarmed, so you don't have to put in the code or talk to him. You park in his big wraparound driveway, grab your bag, and head around back. The pool gate is disarmed, too. You enter the code to the pool house door.

When you walk in, the air conditioning blasts on and it's freezing. Kind of obnoxious in a state with a power grid crisis. You throw your stuff down on the big couch, not bothering to go any further. You strip down to your underwear, ass facing the window. Then you put your swimsuit cover-up over your underwear. Feigning modesty, you take your underwear out from under the cover-up and replace it with your two-piece.

When you come out, Joel is sitting in a zero gravity lounge chair across the pool in front of the big glass windows of his house. When you see him, your heart skips a beat, even though it’s no surprise. It’s like when you’ve been thinking about someone so much they practically become a celebrity in your mind, even if they don’t deserve it.

You bring your bag out to the deck and sit across the pool from him. He’s wearing the same tight, blue t-shirt and jeans. Now he has on Ray Bans and flip flops instead of boots.

You slather your sunscreen on as he watches. He doesn't bother pretending not to watch. You slip your hands inside the cups of your bikini top, lotioning up your breasts. He adjusts himself, which sends a tingling rush to your core.

Once your sunscreen is dry, you wade into the pool. You walk around aimlessly, then swim over to his side, keeping your head above water. When you get to the edge, you rest your forearms on the deck, then put your head down on the crook of your arm and float your legs behind you.

“Come to give me my jacket?” he asks.

“I don’t know how you’re wearing jeans, much less a jacket." You lift your head to look at him.

“You’re right, it’s gettin’ hot." he starts unbuckling his belt and your heart skips a beat.

He stands up, and as he's pulling his tight jeans down over his bulge, his boxers start to come with them, revealing a small, circular scar, then a sliver of neatly trimmed salt and pepper hair. The glimpse makes your knees weak. He pulls the elastic waistband up and leaves the boxers on. He sits down again and crosses his ankles.

You ask, “How’d it go?”

“Oh, about how you’d expect.”

“How long were you fucking her?”

“Does it matter?”

“You’re gonna tell me everything I ask.”

“Few months. Look, Trouble, I’m human at best. She came onto me.”

“Knew you’d say that.”

“What if I could prove it?”

You don’t say anything. He takes out his phone and scrolls for a while, then brings it to the edge of the pool. You watch his heavy quads quake with each step but avert your eyes while he bends his knees. You have no interest in seeing his balls or anyone else’s. His boxers tighten around his muscular thighs as he sits down and lowers his feet into the pool right next to you.

“There,” he says, handing you his phone. You can barely see in the sunlight and don’t really care who initiated it anyway.

“Why don’t you just get a girlfriend?” you ask.

“You wanna set me up?” he smiles. “Got any single friends?”

“Why don’t you ask Sarah? She’s older than me.”

He grabs his chest like you shot him. Sweat is blotching his softwash t-shirt already.

You hand his phone back.

"There's one inside for you," he says. "It's on the counter." He gestures through the window.

"One what?"

"iPhone pro. Since you can't seem to answer whatever piece of crap you're using."

"What do I need an iphone pro for?"

"They didn't have the regular one in blue."

Your favorite color is a nice touch, but an iPhone isn't going to make this all go away.

"How’s it goin’ with what’s his name?”

“Chad? It’s not.” You hate him for bringing up Chad. You harden your face, but it isn't convincing.

Joel nods regretfully and there's a long moment of silence.

“You’re better than him, Trouble."

You don't say anything.

"Shit, you can have any guy you want.”

You can't see his eyes behind his shades, but something in his voice tells you how hungrily he's looking at you.

You still don't say anything.

Joel stretches his leg and the top of his foot grazes your quad, then your inner thigh. All your blood rushes to your loins. You don't move. He strokes your other inner thigh with the arch of his foot, getting a little higher with each pass. A tent forms in his boxers and he adjusts himself again.

“See what you do to guys?” The top of his foot brushes your crotch and you throb. When he tries to slip a toe inside the fabric, you float out of reach.

“You’re not a guy, you're a grown man.”

"Exactly. And he's just a guy."

"A grown man and a pervert." A wave of anger hits you when you remember your stepmother. "And apparently you'll fuck anything."

If he's still listening, he ignores it.

“God damn. Look at you.” He shamelessly palms himself over his boxers and suddenly his body is the only thing on your mind again: The way his naked ass flexed while he looked at you. The length of his cock slamming into her when he came. And now it's right there for your taking. Your core churns needily, slickening itself for what it desperately wants. Too bad he doesn't deserve it.

“Yeah. . . ” Your hands slowly reach behind your back to unfasten your top as you sink down into the water. "Look at me," you echo as you take the halter over your head.

You lie back with your nipples above the water line, lazily floating and barely pushing yourself around in the water, watching him watch you.

He takes a deep breath and his lips part. He digs the heel of his palm into his boxers. You grip the deck with one hand. You hover just far away enough that he can't touch you. He picks up his phone, swipes it, puts it down. He exhales through pursed lips and adjusts himself again.

"Take it out," you tell him, then lean back, jutting your tits into the air again.

"Yes ma'am," he growls.

He reaches into his boxers and holds his hard cock with the tip pointed toward you.

"The whole thing." You nod at it.

He pulls the fabric back.

"Now take your hands away."

"God almighty," he groans as he complies. He sits back with his hands on the pool deck.

Big mistake if your goal is to stay in control. This is going to take more restraint than you thought.

"Take off your sunglasses," you demand.

The sky is getting cloudy enough. He complies.

It’s the only cock you’ve ever seen that actually makes you salivate. Thick, slightly tapered, circumcised, prominent tip. Salt and pepper peeking out from the fabric and creeping up the base. You recall for the hundredth time how he felt pressed up against you by your car the night before.

Your nipples harden and his cock bounces on its own. He inhales deeply through his nose, his chest stretching his sweaty t-shirt. You wet your lips and he exhales loudly. You approach his knees and rest your hands on his thighs, letting your nipples graze his shins. His phone buzzes and he ignores it.

A bead of precum grows at the head of his cock. He clenches his jaw.

“Go ahead,” you tell him as you back away. He gathers the precum with his thumb and begins to stroke himself slowly. He’s proportional - His massive hand is a good fit.

“I’m gonna put this back on in two minutes,” you tell him, dangling your swimsuit top in your hand.

He shakes his head slowly. “Yeah, you would.”

He looks down at himself then back up at you. His eyes darken. The vein on his hand makes you weak - his big, masculine hand wrapped around his thick cock. . .

His breath becomes ragged, his eyelids get heavy.

You disappear below the water, and when you resurface, you come to the edge of the pool between his legs. You plant your hands just above his knees and inhale his musk from several inches away as you watch.

“Thirsty?” he breathes.

“Hell no. Just wanna see what a sicko's cum looks like.”

He smirks, then it fades. The dark, hungry look on his face makes you breathe heavier, throb harder, and twitch.

His ass clenches and he points the tip directly at your neck, then he groans as a hot, white rope meets your collarbone and the halter tie. A few more ropes gurgle into his fist.

“Gross,” you say. But you ache for him so badly. “You know, a gentleman always asks.”

“I'm a sicko, remember?" He dips his hand in the pool, shakes it around, then wipes his hands on his boxers and puts his dick away. "Give me a minute."

You dip your head under the halter tie of your bikini top to put it back on, but you let it float, not covering your breasts. He pushes himself up and grabs his phone. He looks at it and says under his breath, "gotcha, pendejo.” Then tells you, "I've gotta make a call." He pulls on his jeans but leaves them unbuckled. Somehow, that’s even hotter than his pantsless look, but you’re miffed that he got dressed so quickly.

You would've made him take off his shirt, but you love the way it stretches with every move he makes. Half of it is dark with sweat now. His back is a sight to behold as he walks over to the watertight, faux wicker box with the dry towels. You squeeze your thighs together and clench around nothing.

He pulls out two perfectly folded towels and you wonder out loud, "Are you fucking your maid, too?"

"Not this one," he says matter of factly. He drops a towel on the deck near you, then goes into the house.

He stands in his large window, spreads his feet as he does something on his phone, then looks at you as a water jet blasts into your thigh right at crotch level.

How devious of him.

You shift your hips slightly, just like he knew you would, and try to manage your best poker face as you let the jetstream carry you over the edge. You close your eyes before they roll back in your head. Your core implodes and your whole body pulses as a much-needed orgasm is wrenched out of you. Your mouth falls slack and you open your eyes in time to see him watching you with his phone to his ear. He smirks as the jetstream fades, then walks away.

You lay your head in the crook of your arm and let your bikini float near your breasts as you recover, with the occasional aftershock. Then, you hear his truck start up and drive away. Asshole.

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moonstruckme · 7 months

Note

part 3 of sirius x remus's roommate reader when+? +$? $???? ur writing is too good frs

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

Thanks sweetheart! I made an inference, so I hope I caught your meaning here haha (upon further reflection, I may have jumped to conclusions....but here you go anyway)

cw: smut, mdni, everything is consensual !

modern au

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 900 words

“Come on, gorgeous, make some sounds for me,” Sirius says, and instead you swirl your hips, laughing when he groans.

“You first,” you tease.

Sirius tightens his grip on you in response, fingers digging into the fat of your hips. Your breath catches in your throat, but you do your best to keep the effects of his touch from showing on your face.

It’s always a power play with you two, and this is no different. Sirius is determined to make you finish first, and you’re determined to foil him. That being said, you don’t have all day. Remus has only gone study in the library, and the last thing you want is for him to come home to the ambient noise of his roommate and his best friend fucking in the room opposite his. You quicken your pace, and Sirius’ features tighten, hands moving hastily to your sides, trying to slow you despite what his body so clearly wants.

“Come on, pretty boy,” you croon, but you’re panting, your clit finding traction with every movement of your hips.

“Getting tired?” Sirius asks, something close to desperation in his tone. “We can switch.”

“Not tired,” you say feebly, but Sirius is already stabilizing your hips against his, careful but efficient as he flips you over. He folds himself over you, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth while pushing further inside you. His teeth scrape over your lip cruelly as he moves tantalizingly slow, dragging against the back wall of your cunt. You writhe underneath him. “Fuck,” you gasp. “No fair.”

“Sorry, darling,” he hums, not sounding very sorry at all. He nips playfully at your shoulder, relishing in your unraveling. “Can’t help myself, you just look so pretty like this.”

Sirius looks rather pretty himself. It’s really not fair for any boy to have eyelashes so long that they brush his cheekbones, or hair so Stygian black that it glows silvery blue in the moonlight coming in through the window. His eyes are darker than you’ve ever seen them, pupils blown wide enough to nearly eclipse his irises, and the smirk that twists his lips is as hot as it is infuriating.

You try to regain the upper hand, leaning upwards to kiss under his ear where you know he likes it, but Sirius’s thumb finds your clit, drawing sloppy figure-eights over the bead until you’re arching unwillingly into his touch.

“Fuck.” There’s frustration to be found even in your whimper as Sirius picks up his pace, rutting faster and deeper inside you. “Fuck fuck fuck—”

“You can do it, sweet thing,” he coos encouragingly. “Cum for me.”

You could pick any one of the words that have just left his mouth to be your undoing, but together, they’re a fatal combination. You go limp under Sirius, but his cheers are short-lived before they give way to a groan as he finds his own release. Dizzy with your high, you laugh against his lips while his fingers stutter and slow on your clit. Sirius buries his head in your neck, and you blow a piece of his hair—it’s soft as dandelion fluff, the asshole—away from your mouth.

“What’re you laughing at?” he pants. “I won.”

“You cheated,” you argue, though you know he had, technically, beaten you. It had felt like a win for you, though. “Doesn’t count. Plus, you were like, two seconds behind me.”

Sirius chuckles, and you tense as he lifts his head, one dark swath of eyebrow raised impossibly high. “Yeah?” he asks, getting his breathing under control as he slides out of you. His eyes stay on yours, challenge glinting like a single star in the abyss of his pupils while he moves down your body. “I bet I can get you there again in five minutes or less.”

You try to scoff, but it comes out pitchy as his hands sweep confidently across your thighs. “There’s no way.”

Sirius’ incisors flash when he grins. “You’re on, sweetheart.”

You tense in anticipation, but then you hear the distinct sound of a key jiggling in the front door. You and Sirius both freeze, hardly breathing as your finicky lock clicks this way and that.

“Rain check?” you ask quietly, and Sirius nods, grabbing his pants from your floor and tossing you your shirt. You both tug on your clothes as quickly as possible, and you’ve never been more grateful for the difficulty of opening the door to your apartment, sending a silent apology to your landlord for all the times you’ve bugged him to fix it. You even have time to check your appearance in the mirror, running your fingers through your hair before going to help Remus with the door.

“Hey, Moons,” Sirius says, sitting casually on your couch as Remus comes in. “How was the library?”

“It was good,” Remus replies, setting down his book bag and slipping off his shoes. “How has your night been?”

“Good. You know, fine,” you say, with what you hope is convincing insouciance. Sirius shoots you a look that conveys an eye roll without giving one. “That lock, huh? I can’t believe they haven’t fixed it yet.”

“I don’t know how you have so many problems with it,” Remus replies briskly, going down the hall to his room. “It always works fine for me, I just thought you might appreciate the notice to put your clothes back on.”

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queenofallimagines · 4 months

Text

Satan if you were a satanist before you arrived in the devildom

A/n: listennnn in between getting dragged by the Lucifer chat bots, writing two really long fics and having brain worms about this Au I’ve had so many thoughts and Satan has landed in my radar☺️ asmo and Simon are NEXT bc guardian angels are a whole DIFFERENT can of worms

I’m gunna use like ACTUAL satanic lore mixed in w the game lore

Satan:

- okay so boom

- Right off the bat he can tell you are different

- Sitting back waiting to see how you react to everyone

- Takes note you’re much more respectful to him than the rest

- Thought you were walking on eggshells because you were terrified of him but you ain’t scared at all

- You see through all his pranks

- “He’ll probably see that coming a mile away. Try moving it over here Lucifer don’t check there.”

- Color him impressed

- Does see you don’t really freak out like his brothers when he goes into one of his little rage fits

- When he offered to make the pact with you to piss Lucifer off you were really caught at a pass

- Like for one you technically already have a soft pact with him being a devotee

- But also you don’t want to disrespect him by saying no

- Choosing to not get on Lucifer’s bad side because you still do have a mission to do in that attic, soyou politely decline

- “I’m sorry, but I’m not going to make a pact with you that isn’t built on a mutual trust and understanding”

- He’s always told you to sniff out a trap and you were NOT falling for it

- Blinded by rage for not getting his way, that’s when he lashes out

- He feels something weird in his chest when he looks at you in that moment but he can’t quite understand it. Like a tugging feeling at the back of his head trying to tell him something

- When you get caught I. The middle of the whole “they’re the same person thing” you just roll your eyes

- “No shit they’re not the same person🙄😒 Satan and Lucifer couldn’t be more different, Lucifer is the morning star and Satan is more tricker than anything :/ crazy how yall don’t do research”

- Ngl he almost fell for you right then and there

- He cannot STAND that especially when humans call anything and everything Satan and refer to him and Lucifer like they’re the same person.

- Looks at you with star eyes for a second before sticking to you like glue. He’s very fascinated with you and wants to study you under a microscope

- Ask you if you’re like Solomon and have been studying for years

- Did you manage to get your hands on some devildom textbook somehow?

- Maybe even some texts form the celestial realm

- “Not really but that would be super cool to read.”

- He himself hates misinformation so you be correcting all the demon brothers with the quickness

- Lucifer is very annoyed and Satan is elated

- Notices you looking at him a lot, like you’re analyzing him

- Ofc he’s blunt and isn’t gunna beat around the bush he asks you what you’re doing starring at him like that

- “It’s really nice to see what you actually look like… if you’re shape shifting all the time and this is the form you stay in full time it’s… nice to see you face to face”

- Confused for a second because he doesn’t often make trips directly to the human world even for a summoning

- “Well I mean, in the human world we don’t actually know what you look like. The only book that has a description of what you looked like and are has the pages mysteriously ripped out and have never been found. I assume that was your doing?”

- Shocked pikachu bc he fr forgot he did that in his younger years

- His mischievous tendencies have been delegated directly to Lucifer, he understands the value of books now

- “Ah,,, I do recall doing that. It would make sense why you’re starring at me so hard.”

- Blushes when you call him a pretty boy

- Like he’s in his room kicking his feet giggling

- You bring him his offerings directly

- He won’t even realize you’re doing deity work with him and is just excited to spend time with you

- Whenever you come back home from class or whatever you give him little things you got in your way back or snacks he likes

- Nobody has ever seen satan smile this much

- Lucifer peeps when it’s your turn to cook dinner you just so happen to favor foods Satan likes and uses ingredients he does to cook too

- Will be very suspicious of you mirroring his behavior

- Satan is none the wiser truly he’s assure at familiar feeling is like some star crossed lovers stuff and you were meant to meet by fates hands

- Has so many cute cat themed things in his room from you

- Lucifer is not liking how you seem to be trying to gain his trust for your own reasons but he can’t sense anything malicious.

- He can’t pinpoint any alternate motive for this behavior

- Satan will not notice until someone points it out to him

- Lucy straight up asks you why you’re getting so friendly with him

- Mammon also chimes in that you seem like you’re sucking up to him, and Satan feels conflicted be he doesn’t like how they’re accusing you but also the fact that you might be just being nice to him because you want something is setting his nerves on fire

- Rolling your eyes you shoot back at Lucifer that you’re just worshiping Satan like you usually do

- The old man is takes aback and Satan is like…. I beg your pardon?😀

- “Satan has been my patron for years now, the only thing that’s different is that I can give him my offerings and ask him for help directly”

- Mammon is chewing the carpet he’s supposed to be your first man!

- Satan is flabbergasted and is searching his memory for this information

- Before he remembers

- “How did I not notice??”

- “I thought you knew??”

- “NO???”

- Dinner is wild bc now asmo asking for embarrassing memories of you

- Rip bc Satan gon tell it ALL😭

- I feel like he’d be the type to keep a log so he might not remember every single face and name because he does fuck with some people who summon him

- Grabs your notebook from his room and starts reciting shit BAR FOR BAR

- “Oh yeah i remember this! You were quite a rowdy child picking fights with everyone. Your temper was awful”

- “YOU DO NOT GET TO FUCKING SAY THAY TO ME!!”

- laughing because he’s taking a stroll down memory lane and he’s dragging you along

- Can feel your anger a mile away, he’s in your ear now more than EVER going “don’t you want to go apeshit?”

- Constantly encouraging you to loose your temper on Lucifer

- He feeds off your rage and it feels almost euphoric to him, because he’s an instigator if anything😭

- “Where the fuck is your rage?? Lucifer was definitely disrespecting you👀👀”

- Exhausting

- Lucifer will get on him about having you up for hours on end reading and studying when you need to sleep

- You will NOT fail any class not on his fucking watch! He’s gunna make sure you excel in this exchange program academically

- Even if he’s not who you ask for things he’s helping you

- “Do NOT as belphie for help with dream interpretation I’ll help you!!”

- Very proud to show you off

- “Y’all see MY human?”

- Mammon is trying not to start problems on purpose

- He will probably bend you over Lucifer’s desk bestie it’s inevitable

- If you’re intimate before he knows he’s really gentle and makes sure to take his time with you

- If it’s after he will be rough and mean

- He definitely cares about you and loves you but he will pretend he’s using you as a toy

- As if he’s your god and you’re nothing but a lowly mortal designed to be used and filled up by him

- Choking you out and breeding you for hours on end

- Will be so incredibly gentle with aftercare it’s almost like he’s a different person

- “Look at you drooling and can’t even keep your eyes focused. Pathetic. You’re too stupid to think of anything other than how I’m ruining you”

- Makes you struggle to walk every time

- Gets carried away and marks you everywhere like diavolo asking you why there’s a hickey on your ankle😭

- Almost buys you a collar if Lucifer didn’t stop him

- Wants you to know you belong to him and you’re his little follower

- Tells you how good you are for him and gives you a nice reward

- “You’re so good for me, so eager to please and make me happy. My human deserves a reward hm?”

- Cocky asf for no reason PLEASE humble his ass!!

- Gets off on it when you pin him down and call him pathetic

- “The great avatar of wrath Satan himself bouncing on my lap like a whore desperate to get off.”

- He’s literally turning to mush for you

- Whimpering and looking at you with teary eyes

- “P-please I need to cum I’ll do anything”

- Bites back a moan when you coo at him that he’s so pathetic needing a mortal to get off

- He can feel how mean you are and your anger through your pact and it’s making his body buzz with excitement

- Panting and wiggling his hips he’s begging you to fill him up

- Call him a good kitty and he probably won’t be able to last

- Likes when you punish him like best his ass fr leave bruises make his ass bright red!!

- He’s really just attached to you and will cause a big issue when you have to leave the devildom at the end of the year😅

#x black reader #obey me swd #obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me x black reader #obey me satan #satan x reader #my wrtitng #satan smut #Satan obmswd #obm satan #Satan x Reader smut #obey me smut #satan om

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lavendertom · 5 months

Text

The Neighbor Across the Street pt. 6

Mike Schmidt x Babysitter!f!Reader

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

wc: 3.2k

warnings: none! basically pure fluff (as always, lmk if there’s anything i’ve missed)

summary: the neighbor across the street needs a babysitter, so you take the job, not knowing what’s in store for you as you grow closer to the siblings. AU where nothing bad ever happens at the pizzeria.

A/N: this is it 🥹 the ending mike and y/n deserve! everything in italics are flashbacks. i cried tears of joy writing this, i hope you all enjoy this well deserved fluff and fun 🫶 happy reading! btw… u might wanna listen to “yellow” by coldplay towards the end ;)

——————————————————————————

It probably wasn’t the ideal first date, but you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Technically, you and Mike had been dating for about 2 months now, but he wanted to continue working on himself and focusing on work before deciding to officially take you on a date anywhere. He wanted to save up enough money to do something fun and be able to bring Abby with you guys. It wouldn’t be the same without her there and you couldn’t agree any more.

“Abs what’re you most excited for?” Mike asked, looking at her through the rear view mirror. You sat next to him, holding his hand as you looked out of the window.

“Everything!” she squealed with excitement.

“You can’t decide on one thing you are most excited for?” you asked laughing.

This wasn’t just a big deal for you, but Abby as well. She always wanted to visit an amusement park. The semester had ended a few weeks ago for you and it was Abby’s last day of school just a few days earlier, so what better way to start the summer. After your big conversation with Mike, the siblings also worked on their relationship with each other. It was not easy by all means, but they were closer than ever before. Mike felt it was fair that he did this for Abby after all they’ve been through. He knew how much she’d wanted this and he found a way to make it happen. Anything for his little sister.

“Maybe the big rollercoasters. Those look fun.” Abby said grinning.

“You aren’t nervous at all? What if you’re not tall enough?” Mike asked her.

“Y/n told me I was tall enough!”

Mike playfully hit your arm.

“Okay to be fair I told her I think she’s tall enough. Have you been finishing your dinners Abs?” you asked chuckling.

“Duh, I had to be tall enough to ride the big rides.”

You looked over at Mike, smiling, knowing he was the one who came up with the idea to get Abby to finish her meals.

“I don’t want to eat!” you heard Abby shout from her room as you finished up making some grilled cheese. It was something you heard often from her voice, so it wasn’t surprising. You were used to making a meal and letting it sit on a plate all evening to get cold until just before bed when she’d suddenly be hungry.

You put it on a plate, the plastic wrap already in your hands as you assumed she wouldn’t be eating it now. Suddenly the little girl was right in front of you snatching the plate from your hands.

“I thought I heard you say you didn’t want to eat now?” you questioned her as she sat down quickly.

“I told her that if she doesn’t eat, she can’t ride the adult rides at the amusement park.” a voice said from the other room.

“Is that so?” you stepped out of the kitchen to investigate further. You found Mike sitting in his usual spot on the recliner in the living room.

“They stay tiny forever!” he said once more for good measure, you noticed Abby began eating faster.

“What are you up to now Michael?” you asked as you stood behind him, your hand finding it’s way into his messy dark curls.

“Wow legal name and everything, am I that suspicious?” he said looking up at you.

His brown eyes were no longer filled with that hint of sadness and exhaustion you always noticed. They always seemed a little brighter since you started dating. It was something you noticed immediately.

“You’re not very good at this you know.” you had to hold in a laugh to not make him feel too bad.

“I got the tickets.” he said whispering, trying not to show how excited he was about this.

“Did you really?” now you had to try and hold in your excitement too, you didn’t want to spoil the surprise with Abby in the room right next to you.

“Yup, they’re for the end of May. So a little end of school gift for both of you.” you could tell how happy and proud he was for finally saving enough money to treat both you and Abby. He had been waiting for so long to finally say he had done it.

“Mike she’s going to be so happy.” you placed a kiss on the top of his head.

“I know.” he looked over at her, still scarfing down her food. “Thought I could use that little trick to get her to eat dinner tonight. I promise I won’t use it too often.”

“I don’t buy that for a second Mike.”

“I still have time to return your ticket you know-“

He was interrupted by your lips on his as you leaned over the back of the seat to reach him. It was short but long enough for him to get the point. Once you pulled away, you sat with your chin resting on the back of the seat, just staring at Mike still playing with his hair.

“Can I have more food Y/n?” Abby shouted from the table.

“Sure Abs.” you replied, still staring at your boyfriend, which still felt crazy to think let alone say out loud.

“Stop kissing my brother Y/n, it’s gross.”

“Abs you’re the reason this exists, besides I’m not even kissing him. Not anymore.” you got up, lightly ruffling Mikes hair, saying that last part quietly so Abby wouldn’t hear.

The car ride to the amusement park was long, but it felt like it went by in a breeze with all of the random conversations the three of you had.

Once you got into the park and found your way around, you realized Abby wasn’t messing around. She immediately found the biggest rollercoaster possible.

“You sure you’re brave enough Abs?” Mike asked her. He was clearly getting nervous about it.

“Of course I am Mike!” Abby was the happiest kid in the world, not an ounce of fear in her.

You and Mike followed behind her, your hands laced together.

“Don’t be so nervous Mike, she’s gonna love it trust me.” you said, attempting to reassure him.

“I know.” he sighed. “But what if she hates it?”

“Abby’s one of the most adventurous and daring kids I’ve ever met. You’re never gonna be able to get her to leave here tonight.” you smiled, squeezing his hand. “Are you sure you aren’t scared?”

“Yeah right… I could never.” he sarcastically rolled his eyes at you.

Abby absolutely loved the rollercoaster and you weren’t entirely surprised that Mike did not love it as much. The ride photo was a hit for you and Abby. Abby was having the time of her life, sitting with you, while Mike sat behind with the most terrified look on his face. You and Abby spent a little too long laughing at the photo, Abby making sure to mock Mike as usual. The three of you continued on your adventure for the day as you walked hand in hand with Mike once again, Abby following next to you.

“I thought you said you liked rollercoasters Mike?” Abby questioned.

“Yeah, like ten years ago.” he replied, his voice ever so slightly still shaking from the adrenaline.

“Mike you were only like 14 years old ten years ago.” you were still chuckling at him. “Stop acting like such a grumpy old man.”

“Y/n called you an old man!” Abby started laughing at your accidental diss.

“Yeah, old man is a new low Y/n.”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” you tried defending yourself, but there was no coming back from this one.

“Mhm…” you knew Mike wasn’t buying it. You also knew exactly what he was fishing for.

Something you found out about the siblings as you continued to get to know them more was their ability to get what they wanted whenever they wanted it. They were both extremely good at it, too.

“Y/n! Can I pleaseee stay up tonight?” Abby begged you as you cleaned up her toys from the living room.

You looked at the clock on the wall that read 9:08.

“Abs, it’s only 9:08 you still have 20 more minutes to read or draw in your room.” you said, still finishing up picking up toys off the ground.

“Yeah, but I want to hang out with you!” she ran to the ground to latch onto your leg, not letting you move anymore.

“I know Abby, but your brother told me you gotta be in bed by 9:30. You can’t get up in the mornings when I let you stay up.”

“Pleaseee Y/n? Now that Mike is your boyfriend, you’re technically my mom now.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works-“ you were slightly embarrassed and intrigued that Abby really thought of you in that way.

“And if you’re technically my mom now, you can make up your own rules!”

You looked at the girl on the ground, still not allowing you movement. She gave you the most heart wrenching puppy dog eyes you couldn’t say no to.

“Alright, fine.” you sighed, smiling. “But only until 10, got it?”

“Got it!” she leaped off the ground, doing your special handshake with you as she got up.

You didn’t realize how late the two of you ended up staying up, it was now 11:30 and Abby was out like a light. The two of you were still on the couch in the living room. She looked way too cozy and you didn’t want to wake her up by moving her to her bed, so the two of you stayed there. You grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and placed it over the two of you.

It was moments like these you cherished most with Abby. She was probably going to be a pain in the ass to wake up the next morning. Mike was also probably going to call you at 7:30am the next day to come wake her up yourself because he “wasn’t the one who stayed up till midnight playing pillow fights with her.” Regardless, these moments were the best. You loved spending quality time with Abby as if she were your own sister. You knew how much you meant to her and if staying up till midnight with her is what makes her happy, you were gonna do it with her. Maybe not every night, but if she really wanted to, Abs always found a way to your heart.

At around 6am, a door quietly opened. The sun was just beginning to shine through the windows of the house. Mike set down his things before he walked towards the living room. He stopped in his tracks when he noticed you and Abby sound asleep on the couch. He quietly chuckled to himself, he knew exactly how the two of you ended up like that.

He couldn’t really be upset though. He knew how much Abby loved you and needed you to be there for her. He also couldn’t forget how lucky he was to have you as his girlfriend. The two of you became “official” just a few weeks ago, but Mike still felt like the luckiest guy in the world to have you by his side.

He sat down in he usual spot on the recliner across from the couch. You started slowly waking up as the sun began hitting your eyes from the windows. You rubbed your eyes as you oriented yourself with where you were. Through your still blurry vision you could just barely make out that Mike was sitting in his chair.

“Good morning Mikey.” you said quietly through a yawn, careful not to wake up Abby just yet.

“Morning babe.” he said with a small smile. “Let me guess, another sleepover night?”

“How did you know?” you said pretending to be surprised.

“Don’t worry about it Y/n. Long as you guys are happy, I’m happy.”

“Are you still going to make me wake her up when she doesn’t want to get up?”

“Of course I am. Still makes me happy to know Abs doing well when I’m not around, and I get to see you just a little longer before you have to leave for classes.”

“Well in that case, I’ll do girls night with Abby every night.” you were starting to get up from the couch, sitting up now stretching the sleepiness out of you.

“You’re too cute Y/n.”

“Mike, stop.” you buried your face into your hands. You had to be honest, you were still getting used to all this dating stuff. As much as his little compliments made you feel like prettiest girl in the world, you still didn’t know how control your reactions over them.

A small smirk was forming on his face.

“Make me.”

You looked up from your hands so quickly. You never realized how he was exactly like his sister. They both knew exactly how to get what they wanted. You got up slowly to not wake Abby, smiling and rolling your eyes, realizing you give in way too easily for these siblings.

You carefully walked over to Mike and squeezed yourself next to him on the chair (or you attempted to, it was more you sitting on him rather than the couch.)

You wrapped your arms around his neck and he pulled you in closer. Your lips met his and everything felt perfect. It always did, it just felt right. It was like the two of you were meant to be, always and forever. After probably a little too long, you finally had to pull away from him. The two of you sat with your foreheads pressed together, admiring one another.

“How are you and Abby always so good at getting what you want?” you finally broke the comfortable silence.

“You’re just too nice to ever say no Y/n/n.” he brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“And you and Abby are just difficult.” you said through a small laugh.

He pulled you in for one more kiss, the two of you smiling through it. When he pulled away he placed one more gentle kiss on your forehead. You let your head fall onto his shoulder, his left arm pulling you closer as the two of you just sat there. It wasn’t often the two of you had moments like this and you were both taking advantage of it.

“I should probably go wake up Abs now.” you said, wishing this feeling would never end, but you knew it had to at some point.

“Can we have five more minutes? Please?” he asked quietly, still holding onto you like he was gonna lose you at any moment.

And you couldn’t say no those brown puppy dog eyes that looked into yours.

You rolled your eyes with a smile as you leaned over to place a very quick kiss on Mikes lips.

“Y/n! You said you weren’t gonna kiss my brother in front of me today!” Abby said as she looked over with a disgusted look on her face.

“Your brother asked for it Abs.”

“That’s even worse, ew!” she gave you an unamused glare before running ahead of the two of you to her next big activity.

You gave Mike a knowing stare as he smirked back at you while you all continued walking. The two of you always found it funny that Abby was the matchmaker that got you two together, but now she could not stand the thought of you guys doing anything romantic. Ever.

After that, the rest of your day consisted of many activities including playing the prize games, riding tons more rides, and Abby forcing Mike on every big rollercoaster she could get him on.

Once you finally arrived at your final activity, it was like watching two kids in a candy store, quite literally. Abby’s eyes lit up as she walked into the ice cream store, she turned around to face you.

“Have you ever seen this many ice cream flavors in one place?!” she tried to contain her excitement.

“I don’t think I have Abs.” you said with a small laugh.

“Me either.” Mike said as he let go of your hand to begin inspecting every single flavor.

The two siblings spent a good half an hour in the shop just trying to decide what flavor to get. It was quite amusing watching Mike get so excited over ice cream. Out of all things, ice cream is what made him that happy. After everyone finally picked out a flavor (or more) the three of you left the shop to sit and eat your sweet treat.

“Today was the best day ever!” Abby said with a mouthful of rainbow sorbet.

“I have to agree with Abby on this one.” you said while poking at the rest of your ice cream

“I already want to come back and we haven’t even left yet.” Abby squealed.

“Hold it Abs, it’s gonna be a while until we can do this again.” Mike said.

“That’s okay, I can start collecting change so we can buy the tickets quicker!”

“Look at this little girlboss you have on your hands.” you said smiling at Mike.

“Believe me, I know.” he was already so used to Abby’s big ideas.

“I wish we didn’t have to leave already.” Abby said, looking down at her cup.

“It’s okay Abs, we’ll definitely be back before summer ends. Right Mike?” you looked over at Mike with your best puppy dog eyes, giving him a taste of his own medicine. He knew what you were doing. Abby quickly caught on to your idea and followed along.

“Anything for my girls.” he said with a smile.

“I am exhausted.” you said as you all made your way home, the dim moonlight shining through the windshield of the car. The quiet noise of Abby snoring from the backseat filled up the car.

“Pretty good first date, huh?” Mike said.

“More than pretty good, it was perfect.”

“Even with Abby here?”

“Especially with Abby here.” you smiled. “I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.”

Mike looked over at you quickly, not losing his focus from the road ahead of him.

“Me too.” he softly smiled, looking at the rearview mirror to see Abby fast asleep.

“How’d I get so lucky to have you in my life?”

“I ask myself the same question every day.”

You leaned your head onto his arm, starting to feel extra sleepy from the quiet hum of the AC and Abby’s occasional snores.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

You slowly drifted off to sleep after hearing those four words. It was all you needed to know, the worlds best little reminder of who you were doing it all for.

Mike looked over at you once again, smiling to himself. After he thought about it some more, today really was the perfect first date. Not the most ideal with Abby there, but after all, she’s the reason the two of you met in the first place.

Mike carefully moved his hand to turn on the radio, quiet enough not to wake you or Abby, but loud enough to keep him awake. The quiet sound of the song “Yellow” by Coldplay now filled the car. Mike smiled again, remembering that this song was yours and his. A constant reminder how Y/n would do anything for Mike and Mike would do anything for Y/n. A reminder for Mike that if he never mentioned this babysitting job to the neighbor across the street, this bond would’ve never formed.

An even bigger reminder to Y/n that taking the job from the neighbor across the street was the best decision she could’ve ever made. A decision that changed her life and the lives of two siblings who just needed a little extra love.

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A/N: one final massive THANK YOU to everyone who supported this little series 🫶 i hope everyone enjoyed as much as I enjoyed writing. I plan on doing one or two more little cutesy fics in this same AU so keep an eye out for this :) until then, thank you once more. sending each and every one of you big hugs! 🫂

jules jewels 🤗

@balesita @universi8 @browneyedgirly93 @marsmallow433 @prongsprincessworld @ajlareads @k3nnlolz @louweasleymalfoy @chompwoman @wasabidottie @queenie-official @emmaishere432 @curasimp @nevvdrinksteaa @rcailleachcola @scribblesandsherlock @iheartyouyou @prosteticsynthesis @hotgothchick @novausstuff @1-akira-2 @starringo @planetevermore @cherriebat @bethsvrse

dedicated to @mxrvelouss for dealing w my delusions and also feeding into them by letting me write this. love u w all my heart 🫶 the peeta to my bread 🫡

#fnaf #fnaf movie #mike schmidt #josh hutcherson #abby schmidt #five nights at freddy’s movie #mike schmidt x reader #fnaf fic #five nights at freddy's #mike schmidt x y/n #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt has my heart #the ending mike schmidt deserves #mike schmidt fic

196 notes · View notes

bigtreefest · 1 month

Text

Chapter 5: From the Ground Up

From: You Catch More Bees With Honey Series

Pairing: Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader

Summary: It’s time for Bucky to take charge in your absence.

Word count: 4,065

Content/warnings: Interrogation, restraints (not in the sexy way), allusions to violence, swears, name calling, pet name usage, female reader, kissing, horseback riding?

Author’s Note: I REALLY loved writing this chapter. This is where we start to see the other storylines of the Outta Nowhere AU emerge, so keep an eye out as those get released.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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Bucky was mad-no, he was seething as he paced back and forth in your home office. It was in the wee hours of the morning when his private jet had landed on the local airstrip. Within that same hour, Sam had personally escorted in the little nerd responsible for a good third of the turmoil going on in Bucky’s head: Jake.

Sam had taken the liberty of pre-binding his hands and duct taping his mouth shut. Bucky was going to enjoy ripping the goatee straight off his mousy little face.

Five hours ago

As soon as Steve had gotten off the phone with Bucky, he called the construction crew. They kept them on call for things like this, but the two of them never thought the stakes would be this high. It wasn’t often that someone important and non-expendable was put in this type of danger, let alone someone Bucky cared about. As he was finishing up the call and directing them towards your house, Sam reached out to him with a sticky note.

On it was a name and the address to an apartment in the city, along with Sam’s scrawled ‘pick her up on your way over.’ Steve nodded as he hung up his call and placed another, grabbing the duffel bag he kept packed by the door and heading out.

Three Hours Later

Bucky hadn’t left your side since the rocks collapsed. Luckily, the two of you had been able to find a small gap in the rocks where you both sat. It wasn’t large enough to keep air circulating, but it was big enough to at least allow the two of you to talk with each other. You and Bucky had shared so much, from him sharing his first business operation with Steve, to you detailing crazy college stories of when you, your roommate, and Curtis would hang out.

Bucky laughed along. There was a whole side of you he never knew. He had studied intently what showed up on paper, and he knew the hardships you’d faced from your deep conversation last week, but this? This was a whole new, more playful side. He was surprised to see your spirits so high despite the situation.

“I do not believe that one bit. No way you were climbing up clock towers at school just to steal the clock hands, or a random brick or whatever. You’re too straight-laced.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes as you leaned your head back against the stone wall. “Oh please, people already pay so much to go there, if anything, I had more than the right to do it. Our money pays for that stuff. Technically we owned it. Not the school.”

Bucky snorted. “You didn’t even pay tuition. Didn’t they pay you to go there?”

“That’s besides the point, Bucket. Fight the man. And anyway, if you think I’m straight laced, you should meet my roommate.”

Bucky grimaced. “Yeah, about that. She’s on her way here right now.”

Your ears perked up. “Decks is on the way? Oh, that’s good. She’ll be super helpful. She’s so organized, although, I can’t imagine she took well to whoever had to interrupt her beauty sleep. Who’s the poor guy?”

Bucky sharply inhaled. “Steve.”

“Oooo hooo hoo.” You laughed. “That’ll be a fun one for both of them. They’re either gonna love or hate each other. What are all the rest of the ETAs?”

Bucky looked at his watch. Well, really, he had been checking his watch this whole time to monitor his pulse, which was over 100 consistently since the tunnel buckled. He was shaking with concern for you, but kept his voice level to keep you calm, a trick he and Steve had worked tirelessly to master. “Ummm… looks like the construction crew should be here within the hour. And I’ll bet Decks and Steve will be pulling up any minute.”

You hummed in acknowledgment. “Anyone else coming that I should know about? So I can figure out where they’ll best fit around the farm? Decks is great with the animals.”

You hadn’t heard all of Bucky’s or Curtis’s phone calls earlier since they stepped out of the cave to make them with better reception. Bucky didn’t want you to know Jake was on the way, mostly because he knew you’d make him promise not to hurt the rat, and he didn’t want to have to make that promise with the high likelihood it would be broken. He decided a better move would be to change the subject.

“So where did the nickname ‘Decks’ come from anyway?”

“Oh! Well it’s actually-“

Bucky heard footsteps near the mouth of the mine. He did his best to politely cut you off. “Wait, Honey, I’m so sorry, quiet for one second.”

He sat there and silently listened, the rustling becoming closer and clearer until he identified it as hooves clopping gently against the soft ground. He heard Curtis’s voice say something vaguely before he moved to get his feet underneath him and brush off his pants.

“I think Curtis is here with Steve and Decks. I don’t want anyone else to come in, just in case it’s still too unstable. Can you tell me exactly what you need them to do?”

You nodded, even though you knew Bucky couldn’t see it and began to lay out the instructions. Decks and Steve weren’t here to clean out the tunnels, they were here to help keep the farm running until you were freed, and no one knew how long that would take. It was best to keep only those who could be closely trusted around until this was all figured out. God forbid the authorities come knocking, or worse yet, Cole. Bucky held onto your every word before briefly leaving the tunnel to relay the information.

Bucky returned to you shortly after instructing Curtis to take Steve and Decks back to the house so they could rest before their long day tomorrow. Everything needed to run as smoothly as possible to not raise suspicion from your absence, which they were going to claim was due to a corn crop farmer’s conference out in Iowa if anyone asked.

After another hour with you, Bucky let you know the construction company arrived and was starting to stabilize the ceiling so they could dig you out. “I’ve gotta go deal with some business, so I’ll be back soon. Plus, I can’t get in the way of these vehicles. But say the word to one of the crew and I’ll be back here in a minute flat. I promise.”

Bucky’s promises meant a lot. That was something you had learned in your conversations. He never said something unless he had a plan to deliver. A man’s word was everything in his line of work.

“Okay, I’m going to hold you to that!” You yelled back.

Bucky chuckled. “I’m going to send Sam back here as soon as he arrives. He’ll keep you company.” And with that, Bucky made his way back to the house.

So this is where Bucky found himself, walking back and forth menacingly behind Jake, who had been tied down to the guest chair in your office. Jake’s eyes shifted back and forth with nervousness as he tried and failed to hold back whimpers and near-hyperventilating breaths.

Bucky had been silent for only ten minutes. He liked the way it made them squirm. He could sit and stare all day, completely unbothered, as anyone he interrogated slowly lost their mind. Of course, there were other, more fun ways, to get information, but he wouldn’t dare mark up your home. He’d never let the one they called ‘The Winter Soldier’ be unleashed in your sanctuary. This is the closest he would ever get, though, and it would never be seen by you.

Bucky stalked around Jake and crouched in front of him. “A milk maid came in here and told me that you’d given him information about this farm. Care to share?”

Jake shook his head vigorously and whined through the duct tape over his mouth. Bucky leaned in closer. What was more terrifying than being yelled at by him? Bucky with an alarmingly level voice.

“Sorry, I couldn’t quite catch that. I can help you talk a little better, but you’ve gotta be quiet. There are people upstairs sleeping, and I can’t guarantee they’ll be as nice as me if you wake them. Promise to be good?”

Jake nodded carefully and slowly. Bucky reached for the tape at the corner of Jake’s mouth and ripped it off quickly. Jake’s head lurched forward, his mouth open with a silent scream between gasping breaths. Bucky examined the sticky side of the tape. There was no hair on it. The steam from Jake’s mouth must’ve reduced the stickiness just enough that it didn’t cause damage. Shame.

Bucky slammed his hands over Jake’s on the armrests of the chair. “Tell me everything.” He gritted out between clenched teeth.

Jake giggled uncomfortably. “Uh….there’s not really much to know, mister…sir….does this have to do with Peach? I thought she owned this farm now. Where is she?”

Bucky growled. “That’s not important right now, but yes, this is about this farm. Tell me everything you told the guy with the soft hands and the jackets that were too crisp to indicate a day of work in his whole life.”

Bucky had no intention to associate that with his own designer crisp suits that he wore everyday back in the city. That was different, it was a totally separate line of work, plus, he wasn’t trying to pose as something that he’s not when he wore them. Anyway, he’s not the one on trial here.

“Oh! You mean Cole? Fucking prick.” Jake mumbled looking down and to the side. “I can promise whatever he said to you was a lie. That guy’s always been awful. He hides a demon face behind his handsomeness.”

Bucky didn’t want to be on Jake’s side, but he couldn’t argue with that. But to keep him talking, Bucky leaned in closer, moving his hand towards the knife on his belt loop. Jake flinched and raised his hands in surrender as much as he could with his wrists tied down.

“Okay, okay, I promise I didn’t say much. At least not on purpose. I was at an investors party up in San Francisco when Cole bumped into me. He was bragging about how he had just inherited his parents’ company and it was way bigger than when we were in high school. Frankly, I didn’t care, I make an effort to forget about a lot from back then, mostly him, so I tried to disprove him by saying that there are still nice little farms around despite his family’s efforts. I told him I still had my mom buy me honey that Peach makes, herself.” He hung his head in shame.

Bucky huffed as he leaned back against your desk and crossed his arms. “Well, way to go. You know, they painted you to be some genius, but you’re an absolute idiot.”

Jake looked up and scrunched his nose. “Well I actually prefer the term loser, bu-“

Bucky raised his hand to stop Jake from talking. “I really don’t care. What matters is that you’ve made a mess for Honeybee that inconveniences all of us. I’ve gotta be the one to work on cleaning this up while she’s otherwise occupied.”

Jake cocked his head to the side and furrowed his brow in confusion. “Who the fuck is ‘Honeybee?’ Are we talking about the same person?”

Bucky sighed and wiped a hand over his face, stopping with it covering his mouth. He looked at the helpless man in front of him. How had you ever dated this guy? If he used to be great, what on Earth happened to him? “God, you’re slow to catch on. Yes, it’s the same person, but I don’t think the sweet peach you used to know and love is in there anymore. Not after you abandoned her. And especially not after you gave up her operation on a silver platter to Cole.”

Jake swallowed as he caught on. He had seen the devious glint in Cole’s eye when they had run into each other, but just thought it was a product of Cole’s braggadocious success. Not his complete hunger for domination. Despite the way Jake left, he still cared for you. He didn’t want to see the thing you loved taken away, especially by the guy who caused him so much grief. The guy your family defended him from on so many occasions. He felt awful. You’d taken care of Jake when he was around, but when the opportunity came for him to do the same for you, he failed.

Tears began to well up in his eyes. “I’m so sorry. Whatever I can do to help, I will, please, misterrrr…….”

Bucky’s shoulders pushed back in arrogance. Jake squealed all the information he had and didn’t even know the name of the man interrogating him. That wouldn’t do, especially if Bucky wanted to eventually release Jake back out into the wild once this was all over. He made a mental note to have someone coach Jake on how to not give up sensitive intel so easily. But for now, Bucky would take advantage of the ease of informational access.

“Barnes. You get to call me Barnes.”

“Ooh! So like a cool nickname only I get to use? I feel so special.”

Bucky chuckled dryly at that. Jake really was clueless. “No. Not at all like that.” Bucky leaned forward, elbows on his knees as his face inched closer to Jake’s.

“Now tell me everything you know about the mines.”

Jake’s eyebrows raised. “Oh? Those old things? Yeah, Peach and I used to make out in the-“

Bucky waved his hand again as he closed his eyes, unable to look at Jake for another second. “No. Skip that part. What else?” He quickly said, dismissively.

“I know they’re old? Like crazy old and probably prone to collapse at this point. But Pe- I mean, your Honeybee does some occasional civil engineering contracting work. She could probably easily whip up a plan to reinforce them.”

Bucky looked at Jake more intently. He liked the way Jake said his Honeybee, but he couldn’t let that distract him right now. And anyway, you were very much your own person. Far from his. If anything, he was yours. He knew about all your business endeavors, but not those kinds of specifics. “Keep talking.”

“Yeah, I kept up with her after school-well, more like I asked my mom to keep up with her. Apparently she’s like, designed bridges for town and stuff. Why? What’s going on with the mines?”

“That’s not technically your business.” Bucky stood there, debating on his next move.

Jake’s eyes lit up as he gasped loudly. “Oh my gosh. Is she in trouble!? Did she get hurt in a mine!?”

Bucky slapped his hand over Jake’s mouth and whisper yelled at him. “What did I say about keeping it down?”

Jake winced and whispered back. “Sorry. Does Curtis know?”

Bucky nodded. “Yes. And he’s upstairs sleeping. Don’t. Poke. The Bear.”

Jake nodded again. He was being so compliant, Bucky figured he could let a few more details slip. Maybe Jake was a little smarter than Bucky gave him credit for. “She’s trapped in one of the smaller caves. I’ve already got a construction crew digging her out.”

“Wait wait wait. You guys have a proper plan for this, right? You’ve gotta put supports in first and then calculate the load-bearing rocks. You can’t just go willy-nilly digging or it could get worse.” Man, based off that language, Bucky had no doubt Jake truly did grow up around you.

“Good observation, Jakey. That’s where you come in. I know I could’ve just called you if I wanted to know what you told Cole, but I needed you in person to know how serious I am. Grab your little computer and we’ll get going so you can run the calculations while Honeybee talks you through them. You can still ride a horse, right?”

Jake moved to get up, only to be stopped by the restraints. Bucky turned around from the door, voice dripping with fake sympathy. “Oh, that’s right, my bad. I’ll get you untied and then we can go.”

Sam was talking with you about where to put which construction vehicles when he heard hooves make their way to the entrance. Bucky dismounted the back of a horse holding a laptop, followed by Jake who was riding ahead of him on that same horse.

“Not a word of this, Samuel.” Bucky growled lowly into Sam’s ear with clenched teeth. “I’ve already threatened the kid with the same.”

Bucky still had no idea how to ride a horse on his own, but would never admit that, so he was actually extremely grateful that Jake could take the reins. Sam had taken the other horse to get to you, leaving only one back at the house for him and Jake to use.

Bucky handed Jake the laptop and patted him on the back harshly, making it more of a shove. This led him to the small hole where you and Sam had just been talking.

Bucky followed at a quicker pace, reaching the area just before Jake could and held his arm out in front of the blond to bar him from going any farther. “Hi Honey, it’s me. I brought you a little present to help out, I hope you’re not mad. It’s your old friend Jacob from high school. Say hi.”

“Jake? Like… Jensen?” You responded, trying to look through the small hole unsuccessfully.

“Yeah, Peach, it’s me. I’m here to get you out. A-and Mr. Barnes wants you to know he’s been nothing but kind to me.” Jake clutched his laptop firmly to his chest, leaning over to be heard better through the small opening.

Bucky gave a stern nod to Jake for already responding well to his coaching on the way over here. Jake sat down by the hole where Bucky had sat before and got to work.

“Okay, Bee. Like I told you before, you say the word and I’ll be here in a minute. You can time me.”

“Where are you going?” He could hear the slight worry in your voice.

“To run a farm. And by that, I mean listen to Curtis.”

You giggled. “Okay, Bucket. See you soon.”

He looked back and smiled before turning towards Sam and pointing into his chest. “You tell me the second she’s close to getting out. I’ll be there.”

Sam nodded. “Sure thing, boss. Need help getting back up on your horse?”

Bucky was already turned away and heading back to your house. He waved a hand dismissively. “No. I’m walking.”

Sam chuckled as he watched the mob boss trudge away. He knew something had shifted in Bucky’s feelings. And he definitely had his suspicions that Bucky couldn’t ride a horse.

When Bucky returned to your house, he didn’t go upstairs. He feared the creaking of the steps would wake Decks, Curtis, and Steve. Plus, he knew he wasn’t going to sleep. Why would he when there was so much to do to help you? He would just get in the way at the mines, so he went into your office. He pulled out the files and article you had planned to show him the previous night regarding Cole from the kitchen, and as he sat down in your chair, he saw a contract with a familiar watermark. Shit.

Fuck. Shit. Bitch.

The letterhead was from ‘Turners Farm Corporation,’ which he had expected, but the associated law firm was ‘Hansen & Co.’ Bucky had his fair share of law firms in his back pocket, but this was not one of them. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

Lloyd Hansen was something of Bucky’s rival in the city. He was an unhinged lunatic. Where Bucky ran things with honor, poise, and calculated movements, Lloyd was messy, unpredictable, and reckless. He’d been trying to make multiple steps into Bucky’s territory, geographically and business-wise, but Bucky had done a decent job at shutting it down thus far.

And now Cole was in cahoots with Lloyd, well, not him directly on paper, just his bitch-ass sister who ran the firm. Bucky couldn’t believe-well, actually he could. He could believe that Cole would have teamed up with Hansen to build enough power for a takeover, especially considering it didn’t add up if Cole was making these moves on his own.

Fired by frustration that more than supplemented the sleep Bucky lacked from not just tonight, but this whole week, he snapped a picture of the contract and sent it to Sam. Sam would make sure it made its way through the right channels and contacts still back in the city. For now, Bucky had a more important priority than personally dealing with business: You. He had never been so grateful for Sam.

As he skimmed through the final page of the contract Cole had proposed to you, the first rooster crowed. Bucky got up to gather the eggs and make breakfast like any other day in the routine he’d grown so familiar with over just the past two weeks. But instead of cooking for you, he was cooking for the small army that came to your aid.

Curtis came barreling down the steps first, followed by Decks, and then eventually, Steve, who slumped and slinked down the stairs, reminiscent of Bucky’s first day doing the same. At least they were able to get themselves up.

Bucky plated their food, Curtis eyeing him with a small smile that Bucky failed to notice, and he sat down in his normal spot to start eating. He honestly didn’t have the appetite to do so, but he knew he’d crash without food since he already wasn’t sleeping, so he forced it down, preparing to go over the assignments with everyone once again.

Steve would be doing what Bucky had last week to set up the farmer’s market since it was scheduled to go again. Decks would be taking over the tasks you had, feeding the animals, and then doing sales with Bucky since people already knew his face. No need to raise more suspicion by introducing two new people to an event you were usually at.

Once everyone cleared their plates, they got to work, doing everything they could to be of assistance for the mob boss who was very evidently on edge.

It was early afternoon when Bucky got a call from Sam. He immediately picked it up.

“We’re close, boss. Only a couple more large boulders to go before there’s a big enough gap to pull her through.”

Bucky dropped the empty crates he was carrying onto the floor of the storage shed where he was returning them from the farmers market. Lucky for him, the storage shed was much closer to the mines than the barn.

Bucky was full-on sprinting in a way no one had ever seen. He never had to once he rose to power. All he did was walk, his long strides alone commanded enough respect. But this wasn’t about pride. It was about you.

He arrived at the mine entrance, breathing heavily, just as Sam was holding your hand, helping you step over a pile of sand and pebbles. Jake stood awkwardly to the side as you looked up from your feet to see Bucky quickly moving toward you. A smile took over your face and you sighed in relief. He scooped you up and spun you around before setting you down again and using his large hands to frame your face. Bucky didn’t care about the dirt and grime that had built up on the two of you. All he cared about was your safe return to his arms.

You watched as his eyes darted between yours and down to your lips. You wouldn’t hold back anymore. He had put all his resources into saving you, helping you. Without wasting another second, you leaned up on your toes and smashed your lips into his. When you pulled back, Bucky lost consciousness, collapsing in your arms.

Next >

Bonus A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Tbh I thought some moments in here were so funny, but I’d love to hear your thoughts!! Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are sooooo appreciated!!! If I could, I’d make a secret handshake with you through the phone for following this plot line with me. 😉🤠

Series Taglist:

@scuzmunkie

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@vicmc624

@hawkeyes-queen

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lincolndjarin · 7 months

Text

Oh Honey. ✩ Chapter 2

chapter two : beware the jabberwock

series masterlist ao3 kofi main masterlist

a/n : took a while to get out but here is chapter two !!! i have a lot of fun writing this fic bc the pacing is so much different than bks but i'm excited to get this chapter out bc i loved writing it so much and i'm so happy that people enjoy this fic so far !!

pairing : monster!joel miller x mortician!reader

rating : 18+ mdni - explicit content, read all warnings

word count : 15.1k (i'm so sorry idk what happened)

summary : new relationships are tricky, especially when your boyfriend likes to disappear for several days with no explanation.

warnings, etc. : dub con?? i'm gonna tag this with that because the sex is like weird in this?? a lot of it is angry or reluctant from one participant at times so i'm gonna tag it just in case, soulmates au, no outbreak au, language, graphic descriptions of violence, gore, fear, feeling of being stalked, feeling of being watched, me making up things regarding the embalming process, animal death, graphic description of the mortuary process, menstruation, derealization (sort of), smut, oral f!recieving, p in v, biting, just like a lot of mouth stuff lmao, cum eating, rough sex, degradation, sort of dumbification, joel is a bit beastly, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, praise, use of the pet name bunny, nightmares, periods, menstruation, joel is a terrible boyfriend, angry sex, injury, blood, blood drinking, manipulation, not a/b/o but something i made up that is sort of along those lines??, body horror, monsters, predator & prey dynamic, a lot of stuff happens this chap so i might have missed some sorry!!, no physical description of reader but joel is described as being abnormally strong and does pick reader up, there is no actual fucking of a monster yet we can't just do that right out the gate it's a thriller it destroys the thrill if they fuck immediately, that being said; this is a monster fucker fic - proceed accordingly

comments and reblogs are appreciated!

You don’t sleep well after your dream.

Just staring up at the ceiling until the sun is starting to shine through the windows.

Not that you’ve been sleeping well recently to begin with. And Joel suddenly feels less safe, the grip of his arms around you feels more like it’s trapping you rather than protecting you.

It’s Joel.

Just take a deep breath.

It’s Joel. Joel Miller. Sweet, handsome, kind, Joel Miller. Joel who came back, even though you assumed you’d never hear from him again.

It was nothing more than a dream.

Stop making up monsters.

You slip out of his arms, quietly making your way over to the fridge to try and find something to make for breakfast. You haven’t gone shopping in a while, all you’ve got is half a loaf of bread and a few eggs. Good enough. Clicking the stove on you set a pan down, cracking the eggs with a small sizzle as they hit the metal.

“Up already?” You didn’t hear him wake but when you turn he’s propped up on an elbow watching you.

“Couldn’t sleep.” Not technically a lie.

“Are you okay?” He sits up a bit and you can feel him sizing you up.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

You aren’t really.

But you can’t really tell him why, so why bother.

He stretches his arms above his head as he gets up, making his way over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, and resting his head on your shoulder as you flip the eggs.

“Hungry?” You’re desperate to think about anything but your dreams, as you speak his grip around your waist tightens.

“I could eat.” You shudder for several reasons as his teeth graze your neck before nipping at you.

“These should be done in a few minutes, I just gotta make the toast.” You laugh softly as the scruff of his beard brushes against you.

He makes it too easy to forget your fears.

“Mhmm.” The vibrations from his humming make you gasp, nearly dropping the spatula in your hand as he squeezes you for a moment. You work around his advances, putting the bread in the toaster as one of his hands slips under your shirt.

“How many do you want?” You hold up the bread in front of him, trying to get him to pay attention but it’s getting difficult to stay focused on your task when something is currently pressing against your ass.

“I think I’m fine with just this.” He squeezes the bare flesh of your torso making you yelp a bit as his hand drifts further up.

“What happened to your third date rule?” He groans as you reach over to the stove, turning the burner off to keep the eggs from burning before turning around in his arms, your back pressed against the counter.

“We should go to dinner tonight.” He smiles before leaning forward to kiss you but you put a hand between his mouth and yours.

“What makes you think I’ve forgiven you enough to warrant another date?”

He pouts. His bottom lip sticking out a bit as he frowns.

“Wouldn’t matter if I did anyway, it would only be the second date.” You shrug.

“Last night was the second date.” He says rather matter of factly.

“That didn’t count.” You can’t help the smile that threatens to form on your as his frown deepens.

“So you wanna wait for two more dates.”

Definitely not.

“Tonight?” For a brief moment you try and think of anything else you might be doing but you don’t exactly have a social life here in Honey.

“S’gotta be, I’m spending tomorrow with Ellie and then I’ll be busy with work, gotta catch up on some things.”

Why would he need to catch up if he’s been busy all week?

“Tonight works.” Even after what he put you through you still feel the strangest pull towards him, dragging him to the table with you as you set down a couple plates.

“I’ll be here at eight?” He sits, an accomplished look on his face.

“Works for me.”

You have an uneventful breakfast.

Neither one of you talks about his disappearing act. And eventually he has to leave for work and so do you, so he gets his things together once you eat.

“Get dressed, I’ll drive you to Maria’s, I gotta pick up Tommy anyway.” He takes a sip of whatever juice you had left over in the fridge as you nod, finding something clean to wear before following him out to the truck.

He makes it too easy.

He smiles like everything is fine and he holds your hand as he drives.

“Have a good day at work.” You return his smile and he leans across the truck cab to kiss your forehead.

“You too, I’ll see you tonight.”

“See you tonight.” You wave at him as you walk up to the house, Tommy’s just leaving, giving you a pat on the back as he passes you before jumping in the truck with his brother. With a weak smile you watch them go.

There are no bodies today.

It’s a paperwork day for both of you. You know Maria’s dying to ask about what happened but she never does, just staring up at you every once in a while, always looking like she’s about to say something before choosing not to.

You decide to throw her a bone.

“I’m having dinner with Joel tonight.” You can’t ignore the surprised smile on her face.

“I’m glad you two seem to be getting along.”

“Yeah, apparently he got caught up in his work for a few days.” You try and get a reaction out of her but she goes emotionless, giving you only a hum in response.

You don’t try to start another conversation after that until you say good night at the end of your shift. Giving her a small wave before stepping into the misty evening air.

You keep your eyes on the trees the entire walk home but nothing seems out of sorts and before you know it you’re safe in the camper.

You’re dressed and ready to go when the truck pulls up. You aren’t sure where exactly you’re supposed to be going but you’re ready nonetheless, deciding on just jeans and a plain tshirt. What you aren’t expecting is when Joel steps out of the truck with grocery bags and a grin plastered on his face.

“I thought we could cook together.” He says as he makes his way up the steps inside.

“You know how to cook?” You try not to sound as surprised as you are but he just laughs.

“I have two kids. I know how to cook.” He sets the bag on the counter and you open it, he’s brought bread, cheese, and cans of tomato soup.

“What exactly do you plan on cooking?”

“Grilled cheese.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and any worries you had about tonight go out the window.

“You really went all out for tonight.” You raise your eyebrows at him.

He nods, searching through the cabinets for a pan and a pot.

“When you said cook together you meant you cook and I watch, right?” You lift yourself up onto the counter as he lights the stove.

“Obviously.” He sets everything down and you watch him fish around the top of the fridge for a few seconds before pulling down a rather dusty old radio. “I knew she had one somewhere.” He grins as he sets it down beside you, plugging it in and fidgeting with the knobs until the static turns into music.

You don’t recognize the song that plays but he does, as he hums along, opening the two cans, emptying them into the pot.

You had been so nervous about tonight, nightmares aside, you had expected a totally different Joel, the kind of person who ignores you for a week and expects immediate forgiveness. But instead he continues to be just Joel. Joel, who’s very presence lulls you into an overpowering sense of comfort. The moment he stepped inside the camper the entire space became heavy with his cologne, everything smells like the forest, as if you’re surrounded by pine trees and not the four walls around you.

“We should do something this week.” He turns to you as he butters the bread, setting it in the pan with a quiet sizzle.

“Don’t you have work, and Ellie?” You tear open the plastic wrapper on the cheese, handing him a few slices.

“I do, but I can get Tommy to watch her for a night.” He tosses them down onto the bread before opening a drawer, riffling around until he finds a spatula.

You hum along to the music with him when the song changes to something familiar, watching him cook.

He looks at home with you, like he belongs right here.

You both laugh your way through dinner, it’s outrageous how charming he can be, he tells you about the house he’s building, and how his brother ordered the wrong kind of cement. (You didn’t know there was a wrong kind.) And he tells you about how Ellie’s picked up some curse words, apparently there’s quite an argument happening between the Millers regarding who she learned them from.

You’ve always been hesitant to talk about work, especially on dates because you never know how people are going to react. Not everyone has the same relationship with death that you have. So when he says, how has working for Maria been? You aren’t exactly sure what to say.

“It’s good.”

“That’s it? It’s good?” He looks up at you, giving you that lopsided fucking smirk and you can’t help but just melt at the sight of it.

“We’ve been… busy, lots of work the last few days, now we’re just funeral planning, this week we’ve got a funeral pretty much everyday, Maria’s swamped.”

“What made you choose this line of work?”

You never really know how to answer that question.

“Because I like to play with dead things.” Never gets the laugh you hope for, and the real answer just makes you sad.

“I like to fix things.” You instinctively break eye contact, staring down at an uneven floor board you’d never noticed before under the table. “I like knowing that I can help people in that way, to fix them one last time.”

For a moment he doesn’t speak, when you look back up at him he simply looks at you with something that resembles yearning.

“That’s nice.”

You’re glad he thinks so.

He takes the dishes, rinsing them in the sink despite your protests.

Your palms are getting clammy.

This is, by his count, your third date.

Is it weird that this feels scheduled? It was different when you’d brought him home after your first date, that felt natural, your body innately wanted to be with him. How do you even start this kind of thing when it feels so planned? You both know what you want but it feels strange to just outright say, so is this the part where we have sex?

He dries his hands on his jeans and clears his throat as he turns back to you, holding his hand out, you aren’t really sure what he’s doing until he pulls you up from your seat, wrapping his other arm around your waist.

It isn’t the kind of song you can slow dance to, it’s fast and upbeat.

But as far as you can tell, Joel isn’t the kind of guy who dances in the first place, so you bring your free hand up to his shoulder and join him in his attempts to dance.

I heat up, I can't cool down

You got me spinning

There isn’t a lot of floor space in the camper but he makes it work by holding you close and mostly just spinning you as he nods along to the music.

'Round and 'round

'Round and 'round and 'round it goes

If his goal was to put you at ease then it’s working, any remaining nerves you have fizzled out completely. You laugh in earnest, not out of fear, as he bumps his nose against yours.

Where it stops nobody knows

Every time you call my name

I heat up like a burning flame

Burning flame full of desire

Kiss me baby, let the fire get higher

He keeps his forehead flush with yours as you continue to sway your hips back and forth to the beat, the both of you laughing and spinning, you watch curiously as he closes his eyes, inhaling deeply.

Abra abracadabra

I wanna reach out and grab ya

Abra abracadabra

Abracadabra

With a satisfied sigh he opens his eyes, his gaze going from simple infatuation to something darker. When the song ends he pulls you close, so you’re chest to chest and reaches over, turning down the radio.

“So…” You can’t stop smiling as you stare at him through your lashes.

“So.” He gently guides you, his hands on your hips as he walks you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed.

“I’ve got a long day tomorrow, I should probably get some sleep.” You give him an exaggerated yawn and point at the bed, plastering a mock apologetic look on your face.

“You’re really funny.” He leans down to give you a chaste kiss before picking you up. His strength is still a wonder to you.

The way he throws you down onto your bed makes you erupt into a fit of giggles but he certainly isn’t laughing anymore as he drags you by your ankles to the edge of the mattress, a look of concentration on his face now.

“Joel!” You shriek as you hear the tearing of the zipper on your jeans.

“M’sorry.” He grumbles, making no effort to slow down as he tugs them down.

He doesn’t sound sorry.

“It’s a zipper, just unzip it for Christ's sake.” His sudden change in demeanor leaves you a little breathless, in the blink of an eye he’s gone from remarkably gentle to practically unhinged.

“S’too late for that.” He groans softly as he kneels on the camper floor, throwing your legs over his shoulders.

“You owe me a new pair-” Your voice trails off into a stuttered moan as his mouth latches onto the front of your panties, dragging his tongue over the wet spot that’s been forming all night.

“We can go to the mall sometime this week.” He mumbles against your cunt before you feel his teeth grazing the fabric before tearing it apart completely.

“Jesus, Joel!” Instinctively your hands grip his hair as he buries his face between your legs.

How sharp are his teeth?

He’s all consuming. Like he’s trying to lay claim to every single part of you. And he’s loud, it’s a good thing you don’t have neighbors. Lewd slurping noises as he laps at your dripping hole like it’s his fucking job.

He flattens his tongue, dragging it through your folds, for a moment you aren’t sure what he’s doing, but it feels fucking amazing. The way his tongue moves in and out of you, occasionally drawing a lazy circle around your clit, it isn’t like anything anyones ever done before. It takes you a moment to realize that he isn’t necessarily trying to make you feel good (despite the effect it may be having on you,) you’re pretty sure he’s tasting you.

Drinking you in. If he’s trying to get you off it’s only because he wants more.

“S’ so sweet.” He mumbles against your thigh, biting the meat there making you cry out a bit before he returns to his work between your legs.

“Joel- fuck, Joel please.” You manage to stutter out between gasps, when did he become so gruff? You never could have predicted that he would be like this in bed, his grip on you is certain to leave bruises and you can barely think straight after just a few minutes with his head between your thighs. The noises he makes as his lips wrap around your clit are down right pornagraphic. Your vision is starting to go white around the edges as he does the first gentle thing since he started, sucking that bundle of nerves almost lazily. Through shuttered breaths you manage to mumble out his name a few more times your vision whites out completely.

You’re a little surprised at how quickly he manages to pull an orgasm from you, your skin coated in a thin sheen of sweat as you sit up, pulling him up by his hair as you crash your lips against his, tasting your own slick on his tongue. He moves so feverishly as you feel his hands spreading you again, teasing your entrance with two fingers before slowly pushing them in.

“Joel- oh my god-” He silences your rambling with his mouth again, swallowing your groan once he’s knuckle deep inside you. His brows furrow in concentration as he starts to pump them in and out of you. “P-please.” You stammer out.

It’s such a sharp contrast to the Joel you’re used to, he’s so… unruly.

“So fucking tight.” He mutters before grinding his palm against your clit, pulling another series of gasps from your throat. “Such a pretty, tight, wet cunt.” He whispers against your jaw and you feel a third finger pushing into you.

You hadn’t expected him to be so vulgar, turns out he’s only all southern manners outside of the bedroom. You’re starting to see stars all over again as you feel the stretch of his thick fingers, he nips at your jaw before pressing them in deep, focusing on grinding the heel of his palm into your clit until you’re soaking his hand, hands tugging at his hair as a second orgasm is ripped out of you with a shudder. Your head falls back with a noisy whine, you can’t decide if you want more or less, his touch burns your skin but you feel so cold without it.

“Please, please Joel.” You exhale the words, scratching lightly at his shoulders with a whine.

“Tell me what you want.” His voice is lower than ever and you watch as he unzips his jeans, shoving them off and taking his cock in between his fingers, still slick with your release. Your eyes go wide as he strokes himself a few times, he’s thick, hefty, you’re trying not to stare slack-jawed at the way he fills his own hand. You grab the bottom of his shirt, pulling it off in an attempt to feel more of his skin against you.

“Fuck me… please.” You tack on the please at the end hoping he doesn’t make you wait much longer as you gawk at his pretty tan skin. You don’t even know where to look, you run your fingers through the coarse sprinkle of black and gray hair on his chest as he crawls further up the bed to hover above you.

He takes your thighs, pushing them up against your stomach, his eyes dark with something reminiscent of hunger. You hook your own arms around your knees to keep yourself in that position as he takes hold of his cock once more, guiding himself into you with a strangled groan.

“Christ…” He mumbles under his breath as he slides just the tip of himself in, your own breath hitching at the size of him. He tilts head town, pressing a soft kiss to your chin.

He splays his palms out on your thighs, leveraging himself as he carefully rocks his hips back and forth, slowly working himself into you. The camper fills with the sounds of your collective noises. Joel is loud. Grunting and growling as he fully buries himself in your heat.

He scans your face for signs of distress, tears pricking the corners of your eyes, the tiniest sting from the stretch pulls a whine out of you but you only nod as he stares into your eyes.

“More, Joel.”

Once he has your approval he starts moving, setting a pace that for a few thrusts is slow before picking up. Quickly becoming downright brutal, every slam of his pelvis against yours drives his cock deeper into you. He feels as if he was made for this, he’s just big enough that it doesn’t hurt, simply an overwhelming feeling of fullness.

Your body begins to tense up all over again, you wrap your arms around his torso as much as you can in this position, scratching at his back. He leans forward, going in for a kiss before moving around your face, kissing your jaw, forehead, nose, and temples. When he kisses the apples of your cheeks you feel his tongue darting out.

Did he just lick up a tear?

He snaps his hips forward, disrupting your train of thought, his teeth barred as he does so, eyes fixed on every one of your reactions. He’s practically snarling as you let your head fall back against the mattress, the head of his cock driving into your g-spot.

“Wanna come again already, bunny?” You make a real spectacle of yourself, hooking your legs around his waist, trying to pull him in deeper. “Greedy little thing…”

“Joel please-”

“Joel please.” He mocks. “Is that all you can say now?” You keen softly but he only grins as you tighten around him.

“P-please…” You squeak out as he snaps hips forward once more.

“Come again, I wanna feel this pretty cunt come.” He snarls against your neck, leaving a trail of bites until he reaches your shoulder, a particularly harsh bite has you crying out.

“Joel!” You grit your teeth, a wave of heat washes over you as you come one last time, you feel his tongue dragging across the bite mark.

It’s all so close to being painful.

Your stomach aches from the overstimulation, and you register a faint stinging feeling when he laps at the bite. Your walls clench around him, strangling his cock, and his hands instantly leave your legs, gripping the sheets instead.

“Fuck, fuck.” He barely pulls out in time, coming on your stomach. You reach down in your haze, scooping some of his load onto your finger before sliding them between your lips.

Fucking salted caramel.

Sweet and sticky on your tongue.

He pants above you, watching with an intoxicated look as you dip your fingers into his cum over and over again until your stomach is bare.

He nudges his nose against yours, rubbing every part of his face against you for a few minutes. It’s wildly intimate and you're once again a little taken aback by his sudden tone shift.

“Was that okay?” He drawls, once again searching your face for any indication that you might not be.

You nod, beaming up at him and letting him rest the bridge of his nose on yours for a few moments more before you slip out of his arms, stepping into the bathroom. You relieve yourself before going to sort yourself out in the mirror.

You’re bleeding.

Where he bit you, two mirroring crescents, red and angry on your shoulder, leaking blood.

“Shit.” You grab a handful of toilet paper, wiping it clean before rinsing it in the sink and returning to him.

“Everything okay?” He’s pulled his boxers on, tossing you his shirt which you’re eager to put on. You don’t want him to see the bite.

“Everything’s fine.” You crawl back up into the bed beside him.

He stays the night, pulling you to his chest and caging you in with his arms.

And you aren’t haunted by dreams.

In the morning a part of you worries he’ll disappear all over again, you’re a little surprised when he texts you just a few minutes after he drives off. [ can’t wait to see you again soon bunny ]

Joel follows through on his promise.

A few days later he picks you up from work and drives you to the outlet mall about an hour away, saying he needs to get some stuff for Ellie as well. Apparently she likes to throw plates so he wants to find the kind that suction onto the table. As he drives the radio plays a country song you don’t recognize which he hums along to as you watch the trees outside the window.

“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you about my aunt.” He turns the music down once you start speaking.

“Darlene? You probably know her better than I do.” He doesn’t seem very eager to talk about her but it only makes you want to know more.

“Doubt it. All I know about her is that she wasn’t close with anyone in my family.”

“You weren’t close? But she left you her camper.”

“That’s why I need to know anything you might know about her, I know nothing.” He seems hesitant and you’re worried if you keep pushing it he won’t tell you anything at all.

“She was a lonely old woman, had me fix things for her often, I honestly think she just wanted company.” His voice softens a bit as he says it.

“She didn’t have friends here in Honey?”

“Not that I know of, she was a bit of a shut in, sweetest woman I’ve ever met, just a bit… skittish. She worked from home and I’m pretty sure someone delivered her groceries. The only time I ever saw her outside was when I was fixing her roof and she sat in a lawn chair to talk to me while I did.”

“She worked from home?”

“Yeah, something on her laptop, I’m not entirely sure.” You’ve never seen a laptop.

You’ve been living in the camper for nearly six months and you’ve never seen a laptop.

But that’s not what interests you the most right now.

“What do you mean by skittish?” You’re trying to gauge his reaction but he doesn’t seem to have one.

“Maybe skittish isn’t the right word. Eccentric? Some of the kids in town called her ditzy Darlene.” His expression sours as he says it.

“That’s horrible.”

“It was.”

“Why?” He seems more reluctant than ever but now you’re just upset on behalf of the woman who left you everything.

“She fed into a lot of the legends around town, and didn't seem to have any hobbies outside of monster hunting.”

“Monster hunting?”

“She was the only local who went to the gift shops, searching for a monster she swears she saw.”

Sounds familiar.

“Did she ever find any?”

“Monsters?” He laughs. “Not that I know of.”

“Did you think she was crazy?”

“I think she was lonely, and I think when you spend that much time alone your mind can wander.”

“But did you think she was crazy?”

“No.” He puts an end to the conversation by putting the truck in park. You hadn’t even realized you were there, the outlet mall is so small. His southern manners remain persistent as he jogs around the truck to open your door for you, holding onto you to provide balance as you hop out.

You aren’t sure where anything is so you just follow him, taking his hand in yours as you walk. He takes you into a clothing store you don’t recognize the name of and waits patiently as you try on a few different pairs of jeans. It’s been quite some time since you’ve bought new clothes so you get a few pairs, you’re worried it’s boring for him to just wait outside the changing room but when you walk out with three pairs slung over your arm he still looks happy as can be. When you go to pay he opens his wallet, silencing your protests with a reminder that it’s his fault you needed new jeans in the first place.

After that he takes his time, the two of you walk hand in hand through each store, he doesn’t even look around most of them, seemingly content with just spending time with you.

He manages to find a few rubber bowls with suction cup bottoms for Ellie as well as some spanish flashcards and you decide to get a pair of blue hiking boots, if you’re gonna be walking everywhere you might as well be comfortable.

At the last store you stop at you find a nice perfume, spraying a bit into the air and inhaling. It reminds you of springtime, it’s light, floral, but when Joel catches a whiff of it he scrunches his nose up.

“You don’t like it?” You set the bottle back down.

“I like the way you smell now.” You frown, trying to remember what shampoo and body wash you’ve been using. If you recall correctly it’s just some generic brand you’d bought ages ago.

“I didn’t know you spoke spanish?” You remark, pointing at the bag containing the cards, opting to just change the subject rather than give yourself a headache trying to remember.

“I don’t, but Sarah does and she’s been insisting I teach Ellie while she’s gone, something about it being better if she’s bilingual.”

“I think that’s sweet.” You swing your arms a bit, keeping his hand in yours as he walks you out of the store and in the direction of the truck.

“Of course you think it’s sweet, you're not the one with two daughters who will be using their secret language against you.” He takes his keys from his pocket, clicking the unlock button.

“It’s not a secret language, if your baby can learn it then I’m sure you can.” He helps you up into the truck once more, shutting the door behind you.

It’s almost comically difficult to keep your hands off him when you’re alone, especially now that you have a taste for him. Even just being in the truck with the windows up is suffocating, the smell of his aftershave or his laundry detergent drives you mad the moment you’re stuck in an enclosed space with him.

You slide across the truck so you’re in the middle seat as he pulls out of the parking lot. It’s like you feel sick when you aren’t touching him, like you’re suffering from this barely noticeable nausea and you don’t realize you were even dealing with it until it’s gone.

You watch curiously as he keeps one hand on the wheel and brings the other to rest on your thigh. His shoulders relax the moment he does, his frown lines smooth themselves out a bit.

He’s just so warm, and he’s so nice to be near. Today he smells like a candle you used to have, something you lit around Christmas time. He smells like cookies and peppermint.

You can’t help but turn your head a bit, trying to discreetly inhale the scent of his jacket.

To say that Joel Miller becomes the perfect boyfriend would be an understatement.

He drives you to work, he sends you flowers, (which gets confusing in a funeral home.) he holds open doors, and he always texts you back.

Quite literally everything gets better once he’s back in your life.

You don’t get anymore mangled bodies, only a few from the nursing home and one from a nearby hospital, it’s mostly just funeral planning these days. You see Joel daily, Maria and Tommy seem a little surprised every time he dotes on you and you can’t help but wonder what he’s done to earn such a reaction, but he’s so sweet you hardly care. Between both of you working and him having a toddler you’re shocked he makes as much time for you as he does. You see him every morning when he takes you into work but he also insists on seeing you twice a week, whether it’s going out, or ordering in, or just dragging him into your bed, he always makes time for you.

You even spend a little time with Ellie. Joel spends a lot of time with her at the funeral home so you often see her in little doses, she seems indifferent towards you which worries you until you realize she acts that way towards everyone but her father. It’s remarkable to watch him with her, he’s soft with you but with her it’s something else entirely. She sticks to him like glue and you’ve never once seen him look bothered by that fact, you assume she’d get bored just sitting in his arms but she never does. He likes to tell her jokes and you aren’t even sure she understands them but without fail she bursts into a fit of giggles every time he gets to the punchline.

It’s good with him, everything is easier. Everything just sort of makes sense with Joel and for the first time in a long time everything feels right.

Until the morning you wake up, a sticky feeling between your legs and an ache in your belly.

“Shit.” You roll out of bed, quickly shedding your clothes, tossing them into the laundry bin before texting Joel.

[ hot date idea for us, you drive me to the laundromat and then watch me do my laundry ]

Setting your phone down you hop into the shower, washing away the blood with a groan, you spend far too long under the water, when you finally step out and check your phone you’re running late, you pull open the curtains a bit to see if Joel’s already waiting for you but much to your confusion you aren’t met with the familiar sight of the truck.

You had never really discussed him driving you to work; it was just something he’d started doing, you probably shouldn’t have expected it to be a permanent thing.

You haphazardly pull yourself together, tossing on whatever looks clean before grabbing your phone and bag, rushing out the door.

The cool morning air stings your face as you quickly walk down the familiar gravel driveway towards the home, you’re already preparing your excuse for why you’re so late but Maria doesn’t even notice as you step into the office, she’s busy on a call.

You recognize the look on her face, she’s talking to a family. You step inside, taking a seat in one of the chairs across from her desk as you wait. She seems to be at the end of the conversation.

You couldn’t be more grateful that she takes care of telling the families. You’ve never been good at that kind of thing. She hangs up with a gentle, goodbye, smiling up at you as you try and imagine a situation in which your job was to deliver such terrible news.

The ache in your stomach snaps you back to reality.

Fuck. You forgot to bring anything.

“Any chance you have a pad?” You give her an apologetic look.

Based on her expression you’d think you’d just asked her for a lung. Several emotions flash across her face in an instant, but mostly she looks like someone who just solved a riddle that had been plaguing them for quite some time. She snaps out of it quickly though, giving you a curt nod.

“Of course, let me just run upstairs.”

It’s an older man, graying and wearing what is obviously hiking gear.

Poor guy.

He’s torn apart, the worst you’ve seen so far, his limbs have all been individually torn off, they lay, separated from the rest of him on the table.

It’s an open casket so you’re gonna be down here all day.

You text Joel one last time before setting your phone down.

[ gonna be pretty busy all day, got another bear attack, i’ll call you when i’m on my way home. ]

With that you get to work, putting on your gown and gloves, and starting at the torn clothes. It’s hard to figure out where his clothes start and his skin ends with the condition his body is in but you manage to cut him out of everything so you can properly assess the damage.

You’re getting used to seeing these messy wounds, the sight of torn flesh. It should be a pretty easy job all things considered. He’ll be in a suit so you’ll just reattach everything and no one will ever have to see the extent of his wounds.

You check everything twice, making sure that you’ve got the left and right correct before you start sewing things back up. You try to mimic the way you saw Maria do it, careful and practiced stitches.

You finish the legs easily enough, both had been ripped off just above the knee, you’re about to start on the arms when you drop the needle in surprise.

How didn’t you realize this before?

You’ve been preparing these bodies for weeks now and you’ve never once noticed one harrowing detail. You’re used to tending to bodies that have already seen a pathologist. Bodies with their organs in a bag, with their blood drained, ready to be prepared for a funeral or cremation. And you’ve been so focused on doing a good job to impress Maria that you’ve failed to take note of the most obvious thing before you.

There’s no blood.

None of the bodies you’ve tended to from the bear attacks have blood, all of their organs remain intact but because Maria declares cause of death you know she doesn’t drain them. You’ve drained everyone who hasn’t been sent in from a bear attack.

Maybe Maria drained them before you got in.

But that isn’t possible, you know that, you’d have seen the equipment, and you’ve gotten bodies straight from the scene, already drained.

You reach over to grab a scalpel off the table.

You shouldn’t do this. You could probably be fired for it, but as long as no one finds out you’ll be fine. All the damage to this cadaver has been done to its limbs, so hypothetically, if you were to slice open his chest you would see blood, dried or otherwise.

So you do just that.

You carve out a small, clean, incision vertically on his sternum.

Nothing.

You’ve got a pen flashlight that you shine into his chest cavity only to find his organs. Dry.

He’s been completely drained of his blood.

You stitch him up quickly, finishing the job as swiftly as possible before running up the stairs, mumbling a rushed excuse to Maria before running the entire way home.

Joel doesn’t text you back.

This isn’t happening, not again, he wouldn’t do this again.

You feel like you’re gonna be sick.

An image flashes through your mind.

Joel.

Lips curled back in a snarl.

No. That wasn’t real, it was just a dream. Although the line between the two has been getting blurrier.

Joel isn’t out there draining people of their blood, that’s absurd, even if he goes missing and those dates happen to coincide with the days that you get bloodless corpses.

It’s a coincidence.

Or it isn’t.

Maybe for one second you should just let yourself consider the possibility that something is terribly wrong.

You thoroughly check the two bodies you get the next day.

They come in together, a couple from out of state hiking in the park. Neither one of them bleeds.

The day after that you wake up early and walk to the funeral home as the sun rises. You watch the hearse wheel in the body, and you make sure you’re the first person to see her.

A tragically beautiful woman who appears to be in her late forties, maybe early fifties.

None of her wounds are bloody, and when you open her chest cavity it’s like someone drank her insides with a straw.

You’re nearly at your breaking point, nothing you’re looking at makes any sense.

You spend that night in bed, unable to sleep as you try and figure out what the hell is going on.

Joel doesn’t answer your calls.

He doesn’t respond to your several angry texts.

And something deep down within you tells you that asking Maria would be a mistake.

You’re completely alone on this.

So you call Maria and you tell her that you’re sick and won’t be in tomorrow. Then you look up the bus schedule in and out of town.

The bus comes in and out of Honey twice, every other day. Lucky for you, today is one of the days the bus will be there in the morning, and return in the evening.

The bus stop is empty when you arrive, the misty morning air clings to your skin as you stare out into the surrounding forest.

Something is out there.

And you’re gonna find out what it is.

You can’t keep being afraid, this is your home now, and you won’t be driven away by some imaginary monster.

It starts to drizzle when you look out the window of the bus, watching Honey disappear behind you.

You have a plan.

Well sort of.

You’re going to find some literature on the subject. You’re sick of feeling crazy so you’re going to prove yourself right. Something is very wrong in Honey, and monster or not, you’re going to figure it out.

You don’t catch the name of the town you end up in, you just get off at the stop that looks the most tourist friendly, assuming that there has to be a book store somewhere in town.

You only have to walk main street for a few minutes before you find it.

It’s a quaint little shop tucked in between an attorney's office and a gift shop.

Betty’s Books

Dimly lit and jam packed wall to wall with books, a small elderly woman sits behind the counter, reading a Stephen King novel.

“Excuse me?” You clear your throat as she looks up at you over her wiry glasses.

“How can I help you?” Her smile is warm, it fills the entire shop with an aura of comfort.

You’re going to sound ridiculous. And the moment you do this you’ll be speaking it into existence.

You don’t have any other options.

“Do you have anything on local urban legends?” You try not to sound too ashamed but her smile never falters as she points.

“Back left corner, dear.”

“Thank you.”

“Let me know if you need anything else.” She’s already buried her nose back in her book before you turn towards the rest of the shop.

You begin searching the shelves for anything that could possibly help you, there’s several different books on bigfoot and the loch ness monster. There are a lot of empty spaces between books and you have to assume that this is what most tourists are buying.

People in search of ghosts and myths.

Are you any better than them?

Running out into the darkness, looking for a monster you very well may have made up.

You look through a few more options before finally settling on a thick, leather bound book, you pull it from its place and stare down at the embossed cover.

A Beginners Guide to Cryptozoology : West Virginian Monsters

You aren’t going to find a better place to start.

You move back towards the front, stopping in front of the children's section.

Lullabies & Poems for Bedtime

A rabbit with a pocket watch, asleep under a tree, adorns the cover.

Ellie might like that.

Even if you’re madder than hell at her father.

You grab the little white book, setting both onto the counter, paying before stepping out into the rain. You’ve got hours until the bus back to Honey returns so you quickly make your way to a diner across the street, keeping the books tucked into your jacket.

A little bell chimes as you push the door open, sitting yourself at one of the free booths you set the books down on the table.

The waitress brings you coffee and water as you set your jacket aside, you order a plate of fries just to give you something to do as you watch the rain on the diner windows for a bit.

Eventually you know you can’t put it off anymore so you open up the book and sit back, taking care to read every single page, not wanting to miss a thing.

The first thing you learn is that there are a startling number of unnamed monsters.

It covers the basics in the first few chapters, mothman, bigfoot, chupacabra, and werewolves, but the second half of the book is entirely monsters with no names, only ink drawing accompanying the descriptions. For a while you find nothing, eventually ordering a milkshake which you sip as you skim the pages.

After two hours you’re about to give up when you stumble across a page that finally shows something familiar.

A drawing of a body, mangled, with wounds you recognize.

Five slashes across the chest, both arms completely torn off.

This creature is thought to reside only in heavily wooded areas, it was speculated to be located in the southern United States for several decades before disappearing completely.

Since then people have claimed to have seen this creature in many different locations although the majority seem to be centralized to the east coast of North America, resembling a lich, or a wendigo.

When you turn the page the illustration of the monster stares back at you.

It’s hard to make out what’s what and it looks mostly like inky scribbles but within those lines you see the creature you’ve been imagining. Long, sharp limbs, massive shoulders, and a face almost reminiscent of a humans, everything is just… distorted.

While technically unnamed, there are many unique pieces of folklore attached to this specific creature. Witnesses claim to have seen this monster transform from human to creature and vice versa, as if they walk among us in their free time.

What sets the creature apart from many other creatures of this variety is their affinity for humans. More often than not we’ve gotten reports of these creatures seeking out human mates.

We have several different claims from people saying they’ve seen the transformation happen right before their very eyes. One man claimed to have watched his sister in law turn at Thanksgiving dinner. Another says that he saw a cousin's boyfriend disappear into the woods during a wedding, transforming into a beast as he did.

According to old legends there is thought to be a connection between these creatures and their mates, quite literally bonding them in blood. The males are believed to be linked to their human mates menstrual cycles; if they have one, the females are linked to their own. There are many different descriptions of what this means for human mates. Some believe that when this creature comes in contact with their mate that they permanently revert to their human forms. Others believe they’re hunger for flesh only grows after coming in contact with them.

But most believe that they eat their mate. Plain and simple. That their blood is more potent to them than anyone else’s, so much so that any love they may harbor for them is irrelevant, they are simply blinded by their bloodlust.

Its victims often resemble that of an animal attack. Bodies torn apart, mangled, often believers of this legend are ‘disproven’ because of this fact, but there is always one thing that separates this creature's kills from that of an animal. Animals who eat their victims will do exactly that, eat them, this creature does no such thing, while it does massacre its victims it will rarely consume its flesh, preferring the taste of blood.

There have been no confirmed sightings of these creatures and we have been unable to trace its origins or obtain any photographic evidence, maybe it really is just an animal.

Monster or bear? It’s up to you.

It’s up to you.

You slam the book shut.

It’s nonsense.

Joel isn’t some blood drinking, period monster. But you came all this way, looking for a monster, and seemingly you’ve found it.

You pick up the little book for Ellie, taking a sip of your coffee.

Maybe it’ll make you feel better.

You open it to find a familiar little song on the inside of the cover.

I know you,

I walked with you once upon a dream.

You flip through it, mostly admiring the beautiful illustrations, they look like watercolors. There’s a frog with a crown, princesses with flowing gowns and witches grinning up at you from the pages. It isn’t until some random page in the middle that you actually stop to read the poem. The drawing accompanying this one isn’t colorful, only black ink, a drastic change from everything so far.

Jabberwocky

By: Lewis Carroll

It unsettles you to look at so you focus on the words instead. You know this creature, it’s from Alice in Wonderland. The poem is whimsical, you can imagine a child finding it rather entertaining should a parent read it with enthusiasm. You don’t have a parent reading it to you though, you’re alone, staring at the lines that have caught your eye.

Beware the Jabberwock, my son!

The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!

No more books today.

When you check your phone there are no new notifications. So Joel is either a terrible boyfriend or a potential murderer.

How comforting.

Fuck it.

You click on his contact.

[ TEXT ME BACK RIGHT NOW. OR WE’RE THROUGH. ]

Monsters aren’t real.

Joel Miller is just the worst boyfriend (soon to be ex-boyfriend) on the planet.

It doesn’t help that you catch a glimpse of a tampon wrapper in your bag when you throw your phone back into it.

It’s a coincidence.

You can’t say anything to anyone about this, how would it look if ditzy Darlene’s niece showed up and started spinning stories of her own? You can’t do it, you know exactly what people would say. They’d say it ran in the family and they’d find a reason to be cruel to her even in death.

So you take the bus home in silence.

For the next few days barely speak to Maria other than polite greetings, you’re certain she doesn’t notice, both of you are swamped. You’ve got a body everyday the rest of the week and she’s up to her neck in paperwork.

And Joel never texts.

Maria’s juggling Ellie and trying to fill out papers when you get in the next morning.

“Thank god you’re here, can you run upstairs and grab something for me, there’s a little makeup bag on the counter in the bathroom, I forgot it earlier and I’m waiting on a phone call regarding the couple we had.”

“Of course.” You set your things down before reaching for Ellie. “Here, let me take her so you can do that.”

“You’re a lifesaver, thank you.” Almost as if on cue the phone rings the moment she says it. You head towards the stairs, the toddler in your arms scrunches up her face as if trying to recall your identity.

“You know me, silly, I’m friends with your daddy.” At the mention of her father she seems to relax and you open the door at the top of the stairs.

You’ve never actually been in this part of the house before, you’ve always stayed in the business section. You don’t get a chance to look around, the bathroom is the first door on your left. A bag the size of a pencil box is on the counter, you hand it to Ellie, her little hands play with the bag as you carefully bounce her in your arms.

“Do you know where your daddy is?” You poke her in the belly making her smile at you for the first time. “Not gonna snitch?” You tickle her side, earning a tiny giggle. You let her play with the zipper as you bring her back downstairs. “Any bodies today?” You yell as you descend the stairs.

“Had a cremation from the home this morning, I’ve just got a lot of papers, I’m planning six funerals simultaneously right now.”

Six massacred corpses in six days.

“Where’s Tommy?” Ellie puts up a bit of a fight for the bag but you set it down on the desk just in time to watch Marias grip on her pen tighten.

Yikes. Must be a sore spot right now.

“He’s got a work thing, left me with that little monster.” She uses the pen to point at the toddler who’s already starting to get antsy in your arms.

If you’ve got no bodies today you might as well offer to help.

“I can watch Ellie if you’d like.”

“Really? You don’t mind?”

“Of course not, want me to keep her upstairs? I’m sure you don’t want me watching her in the basement.” You laugh a little as she nods.

“You really are a lifesaver, I don’t know how I managed without you.”

“Oh stop, you clearly did just fine before I came along.” Your face gets a bit hot at the compliment.

“I’ll be up in a few hours once I finish up here, you two have fun.” She doesn’t give any instruction beyond that so you just take Ellie back upstairs. You haven’t spent much time with her beyond the small interactions in passing but you know she doesn’t like doing nothing unless it’s with Joel. She’s trying to get out of your arms the second you’re at the top of the stairs. You set her down in the entryway and she’s already running into the kitchen.

You don’t want to snoop but you actually get to take a good look around as Ellie settles in front of a pile of notebooks and a mess of crayons on the kitchen floor. It’s a pretty open floor plan, the kitchen and living room are all one big room and from the looks of it they must watch Ellie often, an outsider would assume they have a child of their own. A play pen is set up on the floor of the living room and toys are scattered everywhere.

“Are you hungry, sweetie? Do you want something to eat?” There’s different snacks on the counter as you walk over to where she’s playing.

“Yes please.” Her voice is clear and high pitched, you’re actually a little surprised, you didn’t even know she could talk, she’s always silent when you’re around. There’s an assortment of different things on the counter so you just find something that’s already open. Handing her a little container of apple puffs, she doesn’t look up from her drawings, just blindly reaching over and grabbing a handful as you sit at the counter to watch over her.

She’s a very well behaved baby all things considered.

You have to stop her from drawing on the walls a few times and at one point she stuffed a handful of food between the couch cushions but other than that she’s rather relaxed. She sits and draws mostly, only occasionally getting up and doing a few laps around the room before returning to her papers.

At one point she makes her way to where you’re sitting, slapping your leg to get your attention until you pick her up, she points to the window above the sink and when you take her there she simply stares out at the trees.

She’s focused on the woods as you watch her expression, her face is oddly serious.

After a few minutes you set her down, unease filling your body. She doesn’t seem to mind though as she runs back to her drawings, you return to the counter, checking your phone for a few minutes until she appears in your peripherals once more, tapping your leg again, handing you one of her drawings.

At several different moments this week you’ve thought that you’ve reached your breaking point.

None of those compare to how you feel when you pick up the paper Ellie had been scribbling on.

It’s crude and mostly indiscernible but you know exactly what you’re looking at.

A monster.

A broad shouldered, sharp toothed, crayon monster.

You stare at the little girl, trying to keep your composure as you pick her up, setting her in your lap and pointing at the mess of scribbles on the page.

You feel crazier than ever, asking a toddler for help but no one else is around and you’re running out of options.

“Can you tell me what that is, sweetie? What did you draw?” You hand her the drawing back which she crumples a bit in her fist before setting it on the counter, you point again at the creature. “Ellie, honey, can you tell me what this is please?” You’re doing your best to keep calm as she kicks her legs a bit before staring up at you with a frown.

“Daddy?” For someone so small she speaks so loudly and clearly, but you just shake your head.

“I know, honey, you want your daddy, I wish I knew where he was but you’re stuck with me today.” You smooth out her hair a bit as she scrunches up her face, looking rather upset.

“Tío.” She points down at the drawing before looking back at you for approval, you just smile. You feel like an idiot. Asking a child for help. A child who can barely speak.

“It’s okay, you’re too little to understand.” You hold her under one arm as you walk around the counter to the fridge. “How about I get you some juice.”

You find a clean sippy cup, pouring her some apple juice before setting her back down, handing her the cup and searching through your bag.

“I almost forgot, I got you a present.” She perks up immediately, setting her cup down as you hold the little white book out towards her.

“Thanks!” Her eyes light up as she takes it from you, it’s one of the few times you’ve seen her smile without her father being in the room, sitting on the floor before looking back up at you, tapping the spot next to her until you sit as well.

“Do you want me to read it to you?” You watch as she sets it down in front of her, she’s surprisingly gentle as she flips open the cover.

“No thank you.” She’s enraptured by the illustrations, not caring for the text, laying down on her stomach, and sitting up on her elbows as she slowly flips through the pages, her eyes wide as she points out everything she sees to you. You rub her back, nodding along, you’re mostly just happy that she’s excited.

She kicks her feet as she explains the big red bird on the page to you. After a few more minutes of her babbling she turns the page again.

Jabberwocky

She giggles wildly as she points at the page and suddenly you’re filled with dread all over again. She’s positively captivated by the drawing, refusing to turn to a different page when you urge her to move on.

You don’t speak again until Maria comes upstairs to check on her, when you do it’s to tell her you aren’t feeling well, and you’re going home.

You’re going on a monster hunt.

There’s nothing left to do. You need to soothe your fears before you lose it completely and you aren’t going to stare at the trees and wonder for the rest of your life.

You stop at one of the tourist traps in town, you need supplies for tonight.

A camera.

It’s an easy in and out stop. You buy a polaroid camera, and several packs of film.

No one will believe you otherwise, you’ll be ridiculed the same way they did Darlene. You think of her as you walk back home, what if she was right about everything? She spent her life in fear of a monster no one believed in and they mocked her for it, and at the end of the day she might have been right.

Maybe the monster is real and it isn’t Joel.

Either way you’re going into the woods tonight. Your backpack is packed with the essentials, your water bottle, camera, an extra film pack, one of the knives from the kitchen (wrapped in a towel,) and a flashlight.

Once you’re packed you put your boots and jacket on and head out.

It’s like everything quiets down the moment you step outside. The forest hums, beckoning you in, and how could you refuse such an offer?

You manage to keep your hands steady as you flip the switch on your flashlight, stepping into the trees. It feels so much colder now than it did when you were walking home.

With dusk settling the sun is no longer there to keep you warm or to guide your way. You haven’t actually seen much of the forest, so you decide to walk in a straight line to avoid getting lost as you carefully step over a tangle of roots. As a child you loved nothing more than playing in the woods behind your house. But after just half an hour in these woods you suddenly resent the trees, they no longer bring you any comfort as you carry on into the cold dark night. You’re just about to give up and turn back around when suddenly something changes.

Without warning and with seemingly no cause you feel a chill rush through your body, your hair standing on end. Your blood runs cold and you hear a sound you’re all too familiar with at this point.

The tearing sound rips through the air.

Your instincts tell you that you’ve become prey rather suddenly in this situation but you can’t turn back now, not when you can prove to yourself that you aren’t losing it.

As quietly as possible you reach back into your pack, grabbing the camera already loaded with film and holding it in your free hand. The beam coming from your flashlight trembles slightly as you carry on towards the noise.

It’s louder than it ever was in the dreams. In the dreams it was subdued, almost as if you subconsciously knew that it couldn’t hurt you. As you carry onward you can’t help but wonder if you’re just imagining it at this point. It doesn’t seem to get louder as you walk. It simply fills the air completely, you’re being directed purely by your instincts. You know it’s this way as you move forward a few more steps.

You scan the trees with your light, seeing nothing out of the ordinary until you finally see it. Your finger instinctively flips off your flashlight.

You almost didn’t catch it.

But your legs keep moving and you get closer and closer to the hunched figure.

It’s hard to describe, like your eyes don’t want to accept what you’re seeing. A voice in the back of your mind tells you that you’re getting too close but you can’t seem to stop yourself as you carry on until you can get a good look at it.

You can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief as you realize it isn’t Joel. But that relief only lasts a moment as you see what you’re actually dealing with.

You aren’t sure how big it is. It’s big. That much is clear but it’s crouched down, it’s almost human, it may have once been human. You’re having trouble making out most of it in only the moonlight. It’s less broad than the illustrations you’ve seen, almost slim, with how close you are now you can see that it’s eating.

A buck, one of the biggest ones you’ve ever seen is splayed out across some rocks. It’s stomach has been ripped open. You watch, with morbid fascination as it digs its maw deeper into the gore.

How curious, it’s wearing clothes. Or at least the remains of some clothing, a bit of fabric clings to its crooked spine, it wears the tattered collar of a shirt like a necklace. Navy blue sweatpants stretch around the creature's waist, the fabric pulled taut, it looks like they make it just past its knees. The elastic around the ankles has snapped.

The funniest part of all of this is that you feel nothing but fear for the creature. You aren’t disgusted and you certainly don’t hate it. You’re just afraid, so afraid that before you can slap your hand over your mouth you burst into a peal of laughter.

Fuck.

It all happens so fast, you aren’t ready in the slightest to be face to face with it and suddenly you are, purely on instinct your hand twitches and with the flash of the camera you get a single moment to stare at it.

It’s so close to being human.

It’s mouth is too big, a blood soaked tongue falling past a row of jagged, pointed teeth. It’s almost like someone stretched out a person's face like it was made of clay. And it’s male. Intricate branching horns stretch out from under the hair crowning its head.

“The doe’s don’t have antlers.”

Your dad was a hunter, you know your antlers, you aren’t exactly sure but if it was a deer it would be a thirteen pointer. You should run, you’re about to but then you finally look it in the eye, just as the final remnants of the camera flash flicker out.

There is something worse than hunger, or thirst, or rage in its eyes, if that was all there was you could scream or cry. But this leaves you frozen in place.

Recognition.

Like it knows you.

And the moment it recognizes you it snarls, an ear-piercing sound that rips through the quiet of the forest, blood spewing from its maw at you, flecks of crimson tint your clothes and hands as your eyes go wide.

It’s a good thing your legs move faster than your brain, you’re already sprinting away from the creature.

You lose your flashlight almost immediately but you know where you’re going, you couldn’t be more thankful for your decision to go in a straight line. You don’t stop moving, running blindly back the way you came, never once daring to look behind you.

You know it’s there, you can hear it, and you can feel it.

Its breath is hot on your heels, you can hear the branches splintering directly behind you. Everything is a blur, stray branches sting your exposed skin but you don’t stop, you can’t, your muscles ache as you push onward, keeping your hands out in front of you to guide you through the darkness until you finally see the road up ahead.

You’re nearly there, almost feeling relief, almost.

An icy hand wraps around your ankle, you’re yanked backwards before you can process what’s going on, your back dragging across the forest floor and in an instant you’re beneath it.

This is it.

You wanted a monster, you got one. And now you’re going to die for it. It snarls as its maw falls open, you’re face to face with a row of shimmering, gore smeared teeth. This is it.

He smells like cinnamon.

It tilts its head ninety degrees, its jaw closing in on your throat as you close your eyes, tears now flow freely down your face and finally you can’t contain your terror anymore.

You scream.

A trembling shriek falling from your lips and much to your confusion a killing blow never comes. After one more shuddering breath you open your eyes only to find you’re just staring up at the trees. You sit up, still out of breath.

He’s a few feet away now.

Thrashing around frantically as he stumbles backwards. As if your scream had upset him. He bellows, his twisted hands clutching his skull like he’s angry with himself. You cover your ears instinctively when it snarls in pain.

He can’t help it.

You’re scrambling to your feet once more, giving him one final glance, you look into each other's eyes.

“Run.”

It speaks.

You break into a sprint once more, not daring to stop until your feet touch pavement. You don’t get the sense that you’re being followed anymore but you’re still in shambles. The adrenaline is slowly starting to fizzle out and you’re painfully aware of the wound you sustained during that encounter. Your ankle is torn up, two deep gashes from where it grabbed you are bleeding an alarming amount. You stumble, the sight of it making you nauseous.

You get a moment's respite and you manage to compose yourself enough to retrieve your phone from your pocket. Walking backwards, keeping your eyes on the forest as you slowly continue to back away. In your desperation your blood stained fingertips frantically swipe across your phone screen, you don’t realize until it’s too late that you’re calling the only person who isn’t going to answer.

Yet when you bring the phone to your ear you hear a click.

“Joel?” You can’t fucking believe it. He actually picked up.

“Sweetheart? Are you okay?” He can definitely hear the panic in your voice.

You just break down.

“I’m by the road, on the way from Maria’s to my camper, I- I need you to come get me, please, it’s- it’s following me, but I think I lost it please, Joel.” You’re in hysterics as you catch a glimpse of one of the few streetlights down the road. You hear the sound of keys and you swear you hear Maria saying something in the background but you’re too frenzied to focus on that.

“Who’s following you? Stay right there m’on my way.” You can hear the truck starting in the background as you keep running, not daring to stop even though it doesn’t feel like you’re being pursued anymore.

“The monster… in the woods… it’s not a bear Joel.” You’re out of breath when you finally stop, standing in the middle of the road underneath the street lamp, spinning around to try and somehow keep an eye on all of the darkness around you.

“Stay where you are, I’ll be there in two minutes, okay? Stay right where you are.” You’re about to beg him to hurry when the line goes dead.

You must look like a mad woman. Standing in the middle of the street, covered in blood, and spinning in circles to try and keep an eye on every single direction as you listen for any signs of movement.

Your heartbeat never slows, you can hear it pounding in the crushing silence that surrounds you.

It only takes a few minutes before you see headlights approaching in the distance. You don’t even let the truck come to a full stop as you open the door and jump in, closing it behind you as you scramble towards Joel as if he could protect you from the goliath you saw in the darkness.

“Drive! Now Joel, go!” You yell as he accelerates just to the point of following the speed limit as he heads towards your camper.

“Bunny, please, calm down.” He wraps the hand that isn’t on the steering wheel around you but you shove him off, sliding back to the other side of the truck.

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Joel, not after what I just went through, I saw it, a real monster grabbed me.” You’re stumbling over your words, trying to get them out as quickly as possible.

“Slow down, just tell me what happened.”

“I told you on the phone, I just found a fucking monster, Joel, that’s what happened.”

He’s gone silent now.

He probably thinks you’re crazy.

That’s fine. You know you aren’t, you saw it, watched it feed. There’s deer blood on your boots.

“You didn’t see a monster.” When you look he’s shaking worse than you are. You don’t dare turn your head further but you watch in your peripheral as he grips the steering wheel, his knuckles going white.

He’s lying.

Why would he lie?

“I did, I took a-.” You reach into your bag and your stomach fills with dread as you realize you dropped the camera.

“You didn’t. You’ve been spending too much time alone, and you shouldn’t be going out in the woods by yourself to begin with.”

“And who’s fault is it that I’ve been alone?” You snap.

He doesn’t have a response to that. And you don’t have anything else to say, not like he’d believe you if you did. You should probably break up with him, for several reasons.

Except you can’t.

If you do, how will you stop people from being needlessly murdered? He may not be the monster, but he knows something, and you need to find out what it is.

So you’ll ‘forgive’ him. Again. Because you need to get to the bottom of this.

And maybe, despite it all, you’re still terribly attached to him. He keeps disappearing, without warning and with halfhearted excuses as to why and all you can think about right now is how badly you missed him, and how badly you need him.

“Does Tommy have Ellie tonight?” You mumble, trying not to sound too irritated.

“I was stopping in to see her before leaving her with Maria for the night when you called.”

“Why?”

“I was gonna come over here and apologize.” He sounds just as sincere as he did last time but you still scoff.

“What’s the excuse this time?” When you turn to scowl at him he looks guilty.

“I was out of town on a work trip.”

“And you couldn’t answer your phone.”

“I forgot my charger at home.”

It’s a preconceived lie. You’re certain of it based on how quick he replies, and it’s not even a good one. He could have borrowed a coworker's phone or bought a new charger; it wouldn't have been difficult. But he doesn’t want you to know where he really was.

Every bit of this confuses you.

You saw something in the woods, but it wasn’t Joel? Joel was with Ellie and then he was with you, he couldn’t have been slaughtering lost hikers. It doesn’t make sense. One thing is for certain though, and it’s that you can’t break up with Joel until you know what's going on or more people are going to be killed by that thing you saw in the woods. You aren’t really sure what to call it, but you know that you found the thing that’s been killing.

And he knows something about it.

He had no reason to get as rattled as he did if he didn't know something about what you saw. So you can’t break up with him, not until you figure this all out. Until then you just have to play the part of a clueless, loving girlfriend. Which shouldn’t be too hard considering the fact that for some reason there is still a sick and twisted attraction to him despite everything you know, settling in your stomach. You bite your tongue, going the rest of the short drive in silence. When he finally pulls up to the camper the engine goes quiet as he turns the key. You had no intention of inviting him in but you won’t stop him if he follows.

You slam the truck door shut, stomping up to the door, his footsteps following close behind.

“Let’s talk about this.” He reaches for your arm as you’re unlocking the door but you just shove him off. You leave it open, kicking your shoes off as you slip out of your jacket as you flip on the lights.

“I don’t want to talk.” He shuts the door behind him, you note that he locks it behind him.

How presumptuous.

Correct, but presumptuous.

“You’re clearly upset, bunny.” He kneels down, untying his own boots before kicking them off. You glare down at him until he stands, trying to pull you into his arms but you just shove him away again. His eyes go wide as he takes you in.

Based on his reaction you really must be quite a sight.

“Jesus, you’re a mess.” He looks genuinely concerned but you brush it off.

“Thanks.” You scoff but when you look down you realize you’ve been leaving a trail of blood in your wake.

“Do you have a first aid kit?” You should send him away. Tend to yourself and go to bed, but instead you just point to the cabinet containing the kit, sitting on the table as he retrieves it, tossing it down beside you. He doesn’t ask what happened, grimacing as he lifts your leg to examine your ankle.

He doesn’t need to ask, he knows what happened.

He tends to your wounds in silence. You wince as he wipes the lacerations on your ankle, they look bad enough that you consider just going to the hospital but he doesn’t seem too worried. They’re just shallow enough that you don’t think you’ll need stitches.

You don’t watch as he sprays it with antiseptic, quickly wrapping it in a layer of gauze and then bandages.

When he’s finished you’re ready to get angry with him all over again but the moment you open your mouth to yell at him he grabs you by the chin, taking a clean piece of gauze and gently dabbing the thin cuts that litter your face.

You stare up at the ceiling light, refusing to meet his gaze.

He tends to every one of them, taking extra care as he smears ointment on each one. When he’s finished he takes anything bloodied and gathers it in his hand, standing to toss them into the bin under the sink. You don’t turn, but out of the corner of your eye you see him bring his hand to his mouth.

Your blood.

He tasted your blood.

You can feel the bile rising in your throat but you just swallow it back down.

“Now we can talk.” He makes his way back over to you but you just shake your head.

“I already told you, I don’t wanna talk.”

“Bunny-” He takes another step towards you.

“Shut up.”

“Don’t be like that.” There’s real remorse in his eyes, you might even feel bad if you didn’t know that he was lying to you.

“Shut. Up.” You push him so he stumbles back onto the bed. “I’m not crazy.” He props himself up on his elbows to look at you as you say it.

“I know.” He sounds almost apologetic.

“Take your clothes off.” You mumble, already tossing your shirt to the side.

“Are you sure?”

You’re sure that he knows what’s out there in the woods and he isn’t telling you.

“I am.” You kick your jeans off to emphasize your point. You know he won’t deny you this. Whatever sick, unexplainable force pulls you into his arms affects him as it does you. You don’t just want him, you need him.

You hadn’t realized it until he’d disappeared again, but now you couldn’t be more aware. It’s as if your entire life you’ve felt wrong. You’ve been in a state of discomfort for as long as you can remember, like a vital part of you was missing. But you got used to it, and you learned to live with the odd sensation of never feeling like you're in the right place, nowhere ever felt like home.

Joel feels like home, in a sort of twisted way.

From the moment you first saw him everything cleared up. It was like you had finally found your center of balance, and when he disappeared he took all of that with him.

This is more than just attraction.

With that he tugs his flannel off, you grab the bottom of his shirt, impatiently pulling it up over his head, not wanting to look him in the eyes, you stare at his shoulders as you climb up onto the bed, straddling his lap.

“I really think we should talk-” He starts again so you reach behind yourself, unclasping your bra, glaring at him as you let it drop.

“Then talk.”

He looks at you like you’re something to eat.

“That’s not fair.” He finally manages to pull his gaze off of your chest, looking you in the eyes, his pupils swallowing his irises leaving you to stare into the darkness of his eyes.

“There’s nothing to talk about, you went away for work and you forgot your phone charger.” You reach between the two of you to remove his belt, tossing it behind him on the bed before trying to unzip his jeans. “It was just an unfortunate series of circumstances.” You grumble before lifting yourself off his lap so he can shove his jeans off.

He’s glaring at you now. Good. He should know that you’re challenging him. Everything from this point on is a game, you just have to catch him in a lie. You grind down against the straining fabric of his boxers, hands on his shoulders to balance yourself as you rub yourself against his clothed erection, drawing a hiss from between his teeth. Before you know it his hands are gripping the hem of your panties.

“Go on Joel, rip them off. I know you’re plenty capable.” You say it like the accusation it is. He’s strong enough to do a lot of things, you aren’t sure if tearing a person in half is one of those things but you’re determined to find out. He knows what you’re implying but he does it anyway, grabbing the fabric on either side of your hips and easily tearing them to shreds.

“You don’t know what you do to me.” He murmurs, leaning forward to press his forehead to yours.

You do.

He does the same to you. A carnal desire, your most basic human instincts are reduced to nothing the moment your skin is against his.

You don’t waste any time, slipping your hand under the waistband of his underwear, watching his cock spring free, slapping against his stomach. You unceremoniously spit in your hand before taking him in your fist, watching his jaw go slack as you rake your nails against the underside of his cock, feeling him twitch in your hand. You keep your eyes trained on his face as you notch him at your entrance, tilting your head to the side as you hesitate.

The veins in his neck jut out as you slide the head of his cock over your clit, hissing softly as you do.

He’s purposefully showing restraint.

He clutches the sheets, his knuckles go pale and you can’t help but wonder if he isn’t touching you because he’s worried he’ll hurt you.

“Fuck me, Joel.” You lean forward, biting his stupidly plush bottom lip. He doesn’t move his hands from where they are and you can’t help but scowl against his mouth.

He’s holding back.

He knows exactly what you’re doing and he’s trying to prove you wrong. How long has he been holding back?

In one sharp motion you slide down on his cock, forcing an obscene moan out of yourself, but it isn’t loud enough to cover the ripping sound. Your eyes wander downward, his are rolled back but all you can focus on now is your torn bed sheets in his clenched fist.

Holy hell.

“Fuck. Me.” You rasp out, lifting your hips again before dropping them back down. His head falls forward this time, his mouth latching onto your shoulder, muffling his growl.

You know that growl.

“Fuck me or leave, Joel.” You take his face in your hand, roughly pulling him back so he’s eye to eye with you.

You heard that growl in the woods less than an hour ago.

“You’re playing with fire, bunny.” He glares at you but you just stare right back.

“I won’t say it again.” You give him one last warning and he finally brings his hands to your hips, with a grunt he lifts you up, slamming you back down on his cock, you can feel him brushing against your cervix as you cry out.

At his age he shouldn’t be able to do that.

He does it again, moving you like a ragdoll up and down on his length, a lewd squelching fills the air, egging him on. He tilts his head down, his teeth scrape against your breast, and you can hear a roar building in his throat. He fucks you like a fleshlight, moving you effortlessly up and down on his cock, your chest bouncing with each thrust.

He shouldn’t be able to do any of this.

Neither one of you speaks, you can feel the camper swaying ever so slightly as he slams into you, thrusting his hips up to meet yours as he pulls you down onto him.

He makes it look effortless.

Another growl rips through the air and you know neither one of you is gonna last long if he keeps going at this pace. He hammers into your sensitive spots with every thrust, your clit rubbing against the dark curls along his pelvis.

He’s merciless with the force at which he moves you, he’s started nipping at your shoulder and you know he’s close as they get harder and harder. You finally feel him break the skin and just like that he’s lifting you off of him, his mouth clamped down on your flesh, you feel his cum between your legs as he finishes on your folds. The sensation of him slipping out of you sends you over the edge right along with him, your stomach tightening as you groan, letting your head fall forward onto him.

You feel better already.

Not good, just better.

He manages to keep you both upright for a few more moments before collapsing down on the mattress with you in his arms.

And then it’s just quiet.

Until the mattress squeaks as you get up. Wiping yourself off with a towel and turning the lights off before returning to bed without a word. He’s the one who finally breaks the silence.

“If you want me to leave, I’ll leave.”

“You can stay.” You mumble, rolling over to face away from him.

It’s better if you know where he is.

That’s what you tell yourself.

It’s easier to swallow that excuse than the truth, that you can’t shake the terror from your encounter with the creature and now amount of fucking is going to change that. You don’t want to be alone, no matter how angry you are. He doesn’t seem to take the hint though, snaking his arm under yours and pulling you to his chest.

You start to push him away but you feel a wave of calm wash over you when he does so you just settle back against him. You close your eyes, praying sleep might come but all you see in the darkness is that open maw closing in on you.

You know that growl.

It isn’t Joel. It can’t be Joel, he was with Ellie and then he was with you.

It wasn’t Joel.

You’re more than used to waking up in the woods at this point. Monsters and men torment you in your dreams whenever they get the chance to.

But tonight is different.

You don’t feel the cold, wetness of the forest floor on your back before you open your eyes. Instead you only feel steel, you make an attempt to sit up on instinct but you can’t. In a panic you open your eyes to find yourself cuffed to the cadaver carrier from Marias basement.

This can’t be happening.

This is the kind of dream you get after your first body.

You’ve had this dream, years ago when you’d just started studying mortuary sciences. Although now it feels worse, more ominous than it had previously.

That probably has to do with the fact that you can’t move.

In response to that petrifying thought you begin to uselessly tug on the cuffs, your ankles and wrists attached to the cold unforgiving steel of the table you’ve sewn countless bodies back together on.

You don’t strap cadavers down, there’s no need to.

The door swings open and you’re thankfully able to sit up enough to watch Maria and Joel walk in, solemn looks on both of their faces.

You open your mouth to call for help but something stops you.

No.

No, no, no.

Your jaw is wired shut.

The sudden realization makes you gag as you shake the table with the force of your panic.

Maria is always thorough, your mouth is full of cotton.

They act as if you’re as lifeless as any other corpse as they stand beside you, despite your muffled screaming, tears immediately flowing from your eyes as you feel your throat constrict around the cotton.

“What happened to her?” He sounds so far gone even though he only stands a few feet away.

“You know what happened to her.” Marias sorrow turns to a look of resentment as she turns to Joel.

“Bear attack.” He says it more to himself than to her.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“You never do.” Her voice is full of a hatred you haven’t ever heard in reality.

She looks at you with a pity you’ve had on your own face before. It’s the same look you give every corpse on a table.

You follow Maria’s gaze down at your body and find your chest sliced open, the inside dry.

And then you wake up.

Of course Joel is there when you sit up in bed with a strangled cry, a fresh flood of tears falling down your face.

“Bunny?” His groggy, sleep ridden voice resembles a growl, sending you backwards away from him, your back hitting where the mattress meets the camper wall. He’s already up, he moves towards you but the moment you flinch away from he stops. “Are you okay? What hap-“

“Don’t come any closer.” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Thankfully he doesn’t move towards you, he holds his hands up ever so slowly. He’s acting like you’re a cornered animal.

You can’t seem to find your voice. Every single logical and rational part of your body and mind tell you to get as far away from him as possible. To fight tooth and nail to get past him, to run away and never look back. You’d never get away with that though, he’s too deeply rooted in you already. He’s made for you. Sculpted by the gods to be everything you’ve ever wanted all in one neat little salt and pepper package, served up to you on a silver platter.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay, you’re okay.” He inches forward a bit but the way you pull your legs up against your chest, trying to make yourself smaller makes him move back. “It’s okay, it’s just me.”

Yeah Joel, that's the problem.

a/n : i have such mixed feeling abt this chap but whatever i really like it so ?? idk

I am no longer doing taglists so follow @lincolndjarinnotifs and turn on notifications to be notified when new chapters are posted !!

#lincolndjarin #joel miller #tlou #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #tlou hbo #joel tlou #the last of us hbo #monster fucker #monster lover #monster romance #oh honey #fic : oh honey

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here4kpopfics · 2 years

Text

Leave the Door Open | JJK

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

Pairing: neighbor!Jungkook x reader

Genre: smut, a dash of fluff, humor

AU: Strangers to lovers. Or Strangers to fwb? Up to you.

Wordcount: 7,367. oops

Summary: Based off this request. Your neighbor loves to sing karaoke in the middle of the night. You finally get fed up and confront him about it. Except when he opens the door, you realize you’re screwed. He’s gorgeous.

Warnings: Language. All the warnings are smut warnings.

Smut warnings: Explicit sex. Protected sex. Light choking/breath play. Pet names (Sparkles and baby) 69ing oral (both receiving). Light anal play/rim job. Spanking. Biting. Bulge kink. technically cum eating at the end? multiple orgasms. He makes her cry it feels so good. I feel like I’m missing something else. This is just porn with a very baseline plot

Rating: M / 18+

AN: How did we get here you ask? Well @here2bbtstrash made a request and I was just clocking off work and decided “yes. I wish to suffer. I have an idea” and spent the next 24 hours writing porn. Literally a day after posting my first smut. This is for M, but I hope you all enjoy. And as usual, thank you to the oh so beautiful @jjkeverlast for beta-reading for me. and @chryblossomjjk for enabling me with some of these kinks. 🥵 Banner and Divider made by the beautiful @classicseffects

and as usual, please leave feedback. Either with a reblog or send me an ask. It’s greatly appreciated. 💜

It’s been a long day. You had three sets of parents chew you out about the store you work at being out of stock of a specific item. No matter how many times you calmly tell them you have no control over the store’s inventory because you are just an associate, a cashier that never works the floor and couldn’t even begin to tell you where to locate said items. Not your department, not your problem. If your managers really wanted it to be your problem, they should pay you more. But they don’t, and instead schedule you at ridiculous hours and expect the world from you in return.

It’s finally 9PM which means you get to clock out and bolt home. You’re already planning the instant ramen pack and what to add with it from the convenience door next to your apartment building as you walk out the doors of hell. You want the spicy one. Should mix in an egg or something to bring the spice down a little bit, though. Maybe a bottle of soju as a treat? And absolutely some snacks and it’d be a crime not to get ice cream.

The whole bus ride home all you can think about is making the food, settling on the couch and watching the most recent kdrama and judging the couple’s miscommunication issues. Maybe a nice bath too. Oh that’d be nice. You’d light some candles, bring the soju in with you, and just stay in the tub with a nice bath bomb. You pray your neighbor isn’t home so you can have some silence.

You’ve never met your neighbor. He’s literally the apartment next to you, your bedroom shares a wall with what you assume is his bedroom as well. You’re not sure, but going off on the layout of the apartment complex and how similar every unit is, you assume it’s the bedroom. That and the few times you’d heard him bring a friend over and had been able to hear every moan and grunt from both parties. Although you could’ve sworn you heard three at one point. But it was always done on the weekends so it was fine. You weren’t too bothered by his sexcapades. Who were you to judge? If given the opportunity, you’d be bringing people home left and right. But the idea of all that flirting for just a one night stand seemed like too much effort.

Your problem with this mystery neighbor, however, is his karaoke habit. He has the voice of an angel and can sing anything with little effort. You actually enjoy listening to him sing, even softly singing along with him during the day. However, it’s not that often that it happens because he would usually carry out his karaoke escapades after 11PM and continue well into the night, usually around 3 or 4 in the morning. And always on weekdays, when you need the most sleep. You tried to work up the courage to confront him one night, but right when you left your apartment, he stopped and his place was silent. Another night, you just pounded the wall begging him to stop. He did eventually. But not until your thumps on the wall got lighter from you being too tired.

You finally enter your apartment, with the results of a successful quest for sustenance in your clutches. You slip off your shoes at the door, Toss your purse on the counter and begin preparing food. Mission: eat and drink everything and feel no regrets is a go.

While the water is boiling, you head to your room to change. You rip off your bra and your pants and grab a giant t-shirt that you’re pretty sure you accidentally stole from a one night stand years and years ago and have been too afraid to contact him again. So it’s yours now. It’s soft and not too thick. And it’s huge, which you love because it makes you look super tiny. You take note of how quiet it currently is on the neighbor's side. You wonder if he’s even home. Not your problem. You remind yourself as you return to the kitchen and get back to food prep.

It’s now close to midnight and you have eaten all the ramen, grazed across all the snacks, had a good amount of the ice cream, and gone through two and a half bottles of soju and were feeling pretty good. You grow bored of the kdrama and decide it’s time to take that super relaxing bath you daydreamed about on the bus. Your neighbor still makes no noise on the other side, so you take this moment to enjoy some peace and quiet.

You run the bath, light the assorted candles, and toss the bath bomb in before easing into the slightly too hot water full of oils, pretty colors, and an obscene amount of glitter. You put your hair up and slide down the tub in pure relaxation mode. Trying to erase the horrid customers from earlier. There’s no sounds save for the water dripping out of the tap and any movements you make against the water.

The problem with relaxing like this in your tub is your breasts aren’t fully submerged in the water. They could be, but then the water would overflow. The cool air hits your sensitive buds, causing you to clench your thighs together. After a few more breezes tease your nipples, you say screw it and reach your hand down between your legs, looking for any kind of friction. Your fingers find your bundle of nerves underwater and begin moving against it in a figure 8 motion. You whimper softly, entering two fingers past your folds, using your palm and the water to continue to work against your clit. Your other hand is massaging a breast, twisting and pulling the nipple every now and again. You could feel the knot in your stomach begin to burn, already so close to release. So close. Just right there. Right there, oh god right the - !

“Give me your, give me your, give me your attention, baby. I got to tell you a little something about yourself. You're wonderful, flawless, ooh, you a sexy lady. But you walk around here like you wanna be someone else.”

What. The. Fuck?

The sudden sound of your neighbor singing and the music blaring through every crack in the walls sends your hand flying away from your center, killing any chance at an orgasm. Your sudden movement causes the water to slosh over the edge and you hastily make to get out of the tub. You get one leg over onto the floor but it lands on a puddle of water and sends you flying forward. You brace your hands in front of you to catch on the countertop before you slam your face into it. Your other leg doesn’t go the right height to get over the tub and instead slams into the side of it. You let out a sudden cry or pain, finally steadying yourself against the counter.

You give yourself a few seconds to assess what the hell just happened. You were masturbating. It was great. You were so close to coming. And then your stupid neighbor decided right then was the time to sing Bruno Mars. And you almost died getting out of the tub. Fan-fucking-tastic.

You catch your breath, until you realize he’s still fucking singing. “That’s it. I’ve fucking had it.” Your voice is laced with hatred as you grab a towel and wrap it around your damp body, not giving a shit about the way you look. You need to give him a piece of your mind and you need to do it now while you have courage, amplified by the soju. You don’t even bother putting on your sandals as you march out your door, turning 90 degrees left and again until you’re facing his door. You take a deep breath and begin pounding on the door, mentally preparing which vile words would come out first. The music stops and you can hear footsteps approaching, but you keep knocking away until the door finally opens.

“You don’t have to keep knocking ya know, I heard the first three.” He has the audacity to sound annoyed with YOU making too much noise? Seriously? You open your mouth to retort back such thoughts when you finally catch a glance at the beautiful sounding singer with horrible timing that you want to strangle to death.

Fuck, he’s gorgeous.

He’s slightly taller than you. Black hair cut almost like a mullet. With his bangs split down the middle. A lip ring attached to his bottom lip. Big round eyes and a nose you immediately deem the cutest nose to exist. A few freckles scattered across his face and neck in the best places, you decide the one under his lip is your favorite. He’s leaning against the door wearing a matching pajama set of black silk with gray rectangles lining the entirety of it. His sleeves are rolled up and fuck he has a tattoo sleeve. You're ruined.

Your extremely attractive mystery neighbor just stares at you and you’re staring back, lips parted, still trying to find the words you were going to say before you knew you were going to say them to the prettiest man ever. Finally you just grab whatever words you can find so that it’s not silent.

“Fuck me…” his eyebrow quirks up and he crosses his arms across his chest.

“Sure, but at least tell me your name first.”

“What?” You frown.

“Unless you want to stick to nicknames. I’m down with whatever. You can be Sparkly Towel Girl. Though it doesn’t really roll off the tongue as well…” He smirks and it finally clicks in your head what just happened.

You’re in a towel. Only a towel. Your hair is a mess. You have glitter from the bath bomb glued to your skin that is actually still wet. And you just told him to fuck you. Your cheeks heat up and your eyes go wide. “No! No no no not what I meant.”

“You mean you don’t want me to fuck you?”

“No!” You scoff trying to sound offended. “Why would I want to have sex with you?” He shrugs.

“I don’t know, baby. You’re the one at my doorstep at 12:30 in the morning sopping wet in a towel sparkling like a fairy saying fuck me.”

“No I don’t. That’s not.” You’re very hyper aware of the towel now and tighten it around your chest, praying he both does and doesn’t see the way your cleavage pushes up. You cover your face, trying to rewind back to when you were angry. What were you angry about?

OH. The karaoke!

“I was taken aback. That’s why I said what I said. But that’s not important. What’s important,” you huff, welcoming back your anger with open arms, “is your constant need to sing in the middle of the fucking night on weekdays only. Do you have no consideration for your neighbors who work late nights and early mornings every day? I can accept you having obnoxious sex on the weekends, but keep the singing to day time hours, yeah? I’d like to get a good night’s rest at some point in my life.”

You rush your words, trying to put emphasis on you needing sleep, because you do. You were tired of sleeping only a few hours a night. Even then, it was constantly interrupted by this man’s beautiful voice. You look him in the eye, looking for any form of acknowledgement, until he silently nods. “Okay. No more singing at midnight. I’m sorry.” He almost sounds sincere and you’re willing to accept it and move on.

You make a small enough curtsy that your towel will allow and mutter a thank you before turning to leave. Just as you get back to your door, Sexy Neighbor speaks.

“You gonna tell me your name though, or am I going to have to call you Sparkly Towel Girl every time?”

You turn back to him with a softer glare this time. “Depends. You gonna tell me yours or am I going to have to call you Attractive Pajama Man?”

“So you think I’m attractive.” The most obnoxious grin forms on his lips.

“You know you are.” You roll your eyes and turn back to the door handle.

“Could say the same about you, Sparkles.” He’s having fun teasing you. But his tone turns more serious when he finally looks down at your leg. “Hey you okay?”

You look back at him, eyebrows raised in question. “Yeah, just a little traumatized and embarrassed but I’ll live” you joke, trying to make this as fast as possible so you can get back inside.

“No, I mean your leg. It’s bruised. And swollen.” You look down and gasp. Somehow in the span of you falling out of the tub and stomping over here to give me pleasant conversation has resulted in a gnarly bump forming on your shin as well as a deep bruise.

“Oh. That’s. That’s nothing. Ignore that ever happening. It didn’t.” You turn your door handle as he steps away from his door.

“You should probably go see a doctor. Or at least some ice packs. I have some in my freezer.” He actually sounds concerned as he starts stepping closer to you, eyes still honed in on the bruise.

“No, it's fine. I’m fine. Goodnight, stop singing in the middle of the night please, that's all I ask. Okay goodbye.” You open the door, swiftly rush inside and close the door before he can get to you.

Once you lock your door and head back to the bathroom to rinse off the glitter, you realize that glitter is just a way of life. No matter if you want it or not. It’s going to be stuck to you for days and follow where you go. You take a look at your leg and wince as you lightly touch it. It doesn’t feel broken, thank god. It’s just deep and super painful. You change back into pajamas and crawl into bed with an ice pack, pain relievers, and extra pillows to elevate your leg. You take the pills and settle in, scrolling through your phone until you fall asleep. Sexy neighbor man didn’t sing the rest of the night.

He actually didn’t sing the rest of the week.

He couldn’t. The sexy towel girl at his door looked exhausted. He genuinely had no idea you could hear him. He never heard you make any noises from your shared wall. Originally he was going to just keep singing. One cute girl wasn’t going to tell him what to do. But when he saw the bruise on your leg, he felt overwhelmed with guilt. He could only assume you got it when you rushed to knock on his door by how fresh it was.

So instead of singing around midnight. He had a hard cut off time at 10:45 and then switched to headphones where he would only sing as softly as he could as far away from the shared wall as possible.

What bothered him the most was he still didn’t know your name. He could easily go down to the mailbox room and find your number and therefore your name. But he didn’t want to do that. He wanted you to say it. And for you to say his name. He just had to find the right moment. Which was difficult when you seemed to always be out.

Five days later, he’s working out in his living room. Yes, it’s midnight. Yes, there’s a gym in this building. But he’s got to stay just in case. He’s beginning to lose hope in ever seeing you again, ignoring how ridiculous that sounds when you literally share a wall with him. And it’s only been five days. As he finishes a set of push ups, hope is restored. You’re home. And you’re loud? He freezes, trying to imagine what you're doing just by listening. You’re actually laughing but it doesn’t sound genuine. It almost sounds painful, like you’re angry? A few moments later, he hears music. It’s loud, and he chuckles to himself.

“Let’s see what happens, Sparkles.” He heads to the bathroom, removing all of his clothes and stepping in the shower to briefly wash off the sweat. He steps out and wraps a towel around his hips. He leaves the shoes just like you did and heads straight to your door, pounding on it in the exact same manner you did.

You’re dancing around the kitchen, clothes strewn about the floor as a result of you rushing to change into the giant shirt again with just your underwear underneath. You just got to the chorus, brand new bottle of whiskey in hand and are about to go hard into the dance when someone starts pounding on your front door, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin. You swing the door open, not caring that your legs and hips were on full display, and are met with you could only assume a hallucination.

You both eye one another up and down, unable to speak. Your eyes are locked on the towel, specifically the corner of the towel that’s tucked into itself to stay attached to his hips. You’re not sure if you’re drooling from your mouth, but you know another place is. Finally, he clears his throat and grabs your attention away from the towel.

“I think I see what you meant. It’s a bit hard to focus when that’s what I’m greeted with.” He tries to hide the devilish smile he gestures to your legs. You hum, not really sure if you’re agreeing, and if you are, to what. Your focus is back on the towel and the abs above it. You want to scratch them. You want to mark any part of him you can. He tilts his head, trying to get your attention a second time. “Sparkles? You okay?”

You finally make eye contact with him. “Sparkles?” You question in a whisper, suddenly remembering the last encounter. “Oh…right…” You hum in response again and then look at the bottle of whiskey in your hand and then back to him, his mouth specifically, down to that damn towel, and back to the whiskey. You shrug as if someone made a good point and put the bottle down on the side table next to you. You smile something sinister and reach out for the towel, tugging him inside, with him closing the door behind himself.

“This is a better option than whiskey.” You let go of the stubborn towel still attached and reach up to wrap your hands around the back of his neck, pulling his lips down to meet yours in a needy kiss. His eyes widen, hands going for your waist, pulling away from your lips

“What is happening right now?” He sounds so serious and you hate it, so you reach back for his lips when he shuts you down again. “First of all. You’re drunk. So this is not happening.”

“I’m not drunk…I was going to. Brand new whiskey. See?” You pick the bottle back up, showing off its perfectly unbroken seal. “You can even smell my breath. Not a lick of liquor. Very sad. But now you’re here. That's way better.” You pull him back down to you and capture his lips again, this time he returns it in full, gripping your waist and pulling you flush against him.

“As much as I appreciate being considered better than alcohol, and glad you can consciously consent,” he smiles into the kiss, “there’s one more thing, Sparkles.”

“Hmm?” You moan out. He kisses down your chin, across your neck, and buries his face into the crook of your neck, biting and leaving marks along the way.

“I need to know your name, sweetheart. And you need mine.”

“I don’t need yours.” You mumble back. He laughs, pulling away from your neck to see your face.

“You will need it if you’re going to be screaming for me.”

He can actually see you process this thought, mentally going through every scenario where you don’t know his name. Finally settling on him unfortunately being correct. You don’t want to be called Sparkles during sex and you need a better name than Sexy Neighbor. You lock eyes, suddenly very aware of what's going on. You let fears and anxieties walk out the door and you nod.

“It’s Y/N” you practically whisper. You let your fingers toy with the hair at the nape of his neck, leaning forward to kiss his nose. He smiles at the soft action, tipping his nose up to capture your lips again. This time, slow and methodical, but still as desperate. He only pulls away enough to say his name against your lips.

“Jungkook, baby. It’s Jungkook. Now let’s get out of your hallway. I have a girl in front of me who had a very specific request last week. I need to fulfill it.” He lowers himself just enough that he can hook his hands behind your thighs and lift you up and return his lips to yours. You wrap your legs around his waist, subtly trying to take the stupid towel off with your feet, but failing miserably.

You’re not sure how you ended up on your bed. You didn’t tell him where to go. You mindlessly confirm your assumptions were correct and you had the same floor plan so he just knew where to go.

He lies you down on your back, legs still hooked around him and he awkwardly crawls over you, mouths staying connected until he rolls his hips into yours. That stupid towel still attached and rubbing against your covered core. You whimper at the friction, but it’s not enough.

You let your legs go from around his form and reach down, finally tugging the towel away and tossing it across the room like it was poison. “Finally” you accidentally huff out loud, causing him to burst into breathy laughs on your lips. You ignore him, reaching down for his length which, though you haven’t seen it yet, feels overwhelming. He’s hard and you can feel the precum on his tip as you slide your thumb over it. You bring your hand down his length, twisting your wrist as you bring it back up, thumbing his tip again. His lips part as he lets out a groan.

“Fuck, baby. Be careful, I’m embarrassed to say I might not last if you keep touching me.”

You whine. “Want it. Want your cock.” You sound so needy and desperate, the complete opposite of how you usually are in bed. Usually in control, usually a brat that needs to be punished. You’ve never been truly submissive like you feel right now. You can’t bring yourself to care.

“And you’ll have it. But first, let me taste you and get you ready.” He moves to sit up and push you further up the bed when you mutter out a “No.” He stops everything and looks at you. Your eyes are trained on his member. “No? Is everything okay? Did I do something wrong?” You just shake your head again.

“Wanna taste at the same time.” You mumble, pulling yourself up, pushing the still confused man to be the one that lays back. You peel your underwear off, leaving the shirt on, and crawl over him, hovering your center just above his chest while facing away from him. You lean forward, grabbing his erection and giving a long lick from the base to the tip, wrapping your lips around the tip and sucking. You can hear his guttural reaction and suddenly two hands are violently tugging your hips closer to his face. You stop sucking long enough to reposition your knees on opposite sides of his head. He brings your hips down when you feel settled and dives into your sopping wet center.

“Shit. That feels so fucking good.” You moan, leaning back down, slowly easing his cock down your throat. He bucks his hips up unintentionally and you gag slightly, but he doesn’t hear. Instead, you brace both hands on his meaty thighs and bob your head up and down, taking him all the way each time and gagging around him before coming back up. You rut your hips against his face as he continues fucking his tongue into you, sucking on your bundle of nerves in intervals. He brings two fingers into play, sliding them against your entrance a few times before easing them into you, letting you fuck yourself with them.

Feeling close to his own release, he glances up at your rim. He runs a thumb along it, adding the smallest pressure possible, yet still earning a pleased reaction from you. He takes that as a yes and brings his tongue to your hole, licking flat against it before dancing his tongue around the rim. You keen, your head falling against his cock that you’re subconsciously still stroking. “Don’t stop. I’m so close. Please, Jungkook. Keep going.”

You find a strand of energy in you, determined to make him come at the same time and wrap your mouth around his tip again, hands working the shaft while you suck mercilessly. You both let out a series of loud moans, groans, and cries before you feel your hips spasm against his mouth, coming hard. At the same time, his hips snap up, ramming his cock even farther into your mouth, shooting the bitter white liquid down your throat. You swallow proudly, resting your head on his pelvis to take a breath.

“What the hell was that…” was all Jungkook could mutter, still processing what just happened. After a few moments he pats your leg where your bruise was starting to fade. “Wait.” He raises his head, a little shocked. ”Did you swallow?” You smile and nod, rubbing your cheek into his skin, humming out a yes and kissing whatever skin was there. He can barely see what you’re doing, but the feeling alone is enough to make his member come back to life. You feel it twitch and move to sit up again and grab it. But he catches you in time, flipping you around and over so he is now facing you from above. “No no. Not again. You specifically said ‘fuck me’ last week. I intend on doing that.” You groan at the change in positions and mope. You look tired and he’s still thinking about your frustrated laugh from earlier.

“But first,” he grabs both of your wrists in one hand, sliding them up above your head while holding himself up with the other by your head. He leans down, leaving a soft kiss on your lips. “First, I need to know why you decided to blast music at midnight, and why you were about to crack open a bottle of whiskey by yourself. Are you okay?” his face softens, no longer full of lust. It’s still there, hiding behind his concern and obviously pressing up against your stomach. But he clearly has more important needs right now. Like making sure he’s not about to make a mistake.

You get lost in his eyes for a moment before nodding slowly, supressing the emotions building up behind your eyes. “Yeah. Just had a bad day. But I’m fine, I promise.” Your smile doesn’t fully reach your eyes and Jungkook doesn’t know if he believes you.

“No bad breakup or fight with a guy or girl I should know about? I don’t do rebounds and I don’t condone cheating.” He’s very serious. You just laugh, this time it’s real and he can tell immediately.

“God, no. No exes or currents. Haven’t had that in years. No no no. Just…I got fired from my job and want to have something good before having to deal with the impending doom of reality, okay? Just make me forget for a moment, please?” Those stupid emotions are on the brink, threatening to spill from your eyes. You shut them tight, fighting against the feelings you want to let go. He sighs, leaning down to kiss your eyelids, moving up to your forehead.

“Okay, baby. I can do that. Do you want it rough or gentle?” You puff out a breath, trying not to laugh at the question.

“Either is fine. Rough would be better…” you mutter under your breath. He just nods, kissing your forehead again, trailing down to your ear.

“I’ll make you forget, baby. Just focus on me and how I make you feel, okay?” You nod, moaning softly when he licks the shell of your ear. “Where are your condoms, y/n?” You gesture with your head to the left nightstand and he lets go of your wrists to briefly move off you to grab one. He comes back, foil unwrapped and rolling it down his length. He gazes down at you and you can see a weird shift in his face. His tone suddenly becomes darker as he slowly pumps himself.

“You’re gonna be good for me, right babygirl?” You nod enthusiastically, mentally making fun of yourself for switching to full submissive for a guy you just learned the name of.

“I’ll be good, I promise.” you sweetly respond, lifting and spreading your legs open for him to crawl in between. He sets one leg on his shoulder, leaving the other to rest on the bed as he lines himself up to you, smirking as he rubs the tip against your clit for a moment, watching you squirm before fully entering you without hesitation.

“Oh fuck” is all you can let out as you lift your hips to meet with him. He lets out a low groan as he pulls out everything but the tip, pushing your hips back down, keeping them there, and slamming back down into you. You arch your back, one hand grabbing onto the bed sheets and the other reaching out for any part of him. He notices, smiling as he leans back down, giving you better access. You find his waist and dig your nails in as he continues with his relentless pace on your pussy. He grunts loudly, fully leaning down over you, both knees over his shoulders.

You grab his neck and pull him into a sloppy kiss, teeth crashing together as you try to breathe through the pounding. “You feel so good, Jungkook. So big. Stretching me out perfectly. Fuck me just like that please. Don’t ever stop.” You cry out mumbling for him to not stop over and over.

He finds his new favorite spot on your neck and bites down before sucking, ensuring you’d be marked, and moving on to another spot. You mewl at his little art project on your neck mixed with the feeling of him fucking into you over and over until you come without warning. His hips stutter at the noise and feeling of you clenching around him and he has to still himself inside you before he finishes. “I’m not done with you yet, baby. Flip over. All fours. Now.”

You oblige, albeit slowly. Your legs are shaky and you don’t know if you can hold yourself up very well, but you try. The moment you think you can keep yourself up, a hard smack sound fills the room as his large hand meets your ass. Your arms give out and you almost face plant into the pillows before a tattooed arm slides around your waist pulling you up to your knees.

“No, you don’t. No resting, baby. On your knees, I’ll keep you up.” His hand slides up your chest, under your shirt, creeping out of the neckline to wrap around your throat, holding you against his chest, letting you rest your head back on his shoulder. You’re panting and whimpering against him. He kisses your temple, quietly asking if you were good to continue. You nod and whisper a yes as he slips himself back inside you and continues his pace like he never missed a beat.

“Baby, you’re so tight but you take me so well. You feel like fucking heaven.” He pants in your ear, the hand not around your throat sliding down between your legs to your pulsing center. You whine and struggle as he starts rubbing in big lazy circles. It’s after a particularly deep thrust he feels something under his palm. He does it again to confirm and grins.

“Give me your hand, baby.” You lift it up without thinking too much, unsure where he wanted it. He grabs your wrist and places your hand flat against your lower stomach just above where he’s ruining you. He does another deep thrust and you feel it. Your eyes widen and he chuckles. “You feel that? Feel me all the way inside you?” You’re silent, in shock at the bulge you feel. “How about now, baby? Feel it now?” He gives another sharp thrust, lessening his clutch around your throat, forcing you to cry out.

“Yes I feel it!” You feel the knot inside you coil up and ignite. “Please. Jungkook. I can’t. I can’t take it anymore. He eases you back on to all fours and you grab a pillow, clutching it for dear life. To compensate for not being able to be on all fours, you put all your strength into raising your ass to meet with his hips perfectly. He groans at the view, slapping your ass again. He uses both hands to grab to give it a massage, separating your cheeks to get a better view. He sees a perfect opportunity to make you see stars and keep your mind off anything troubling you.

“You wanna come for me, baby?” His voice is low. You nod into the pillow. “Remember what I did with my tongue earlier?” His thumb softly grazes over your hole and you nod, letting out a whiny moan, pushing your ass back for more. “Do you trust me?” You nod again. “No, y/n. I need to hear you say it. Do you trust me?” He asks again.

You frown, lifting your face out of the pillow just enough to force out the words “Yes, I trust you. Please, let me come. Please.” And tuck your face back into the pillow.

“Thank you, baby. Relax for me. Just enjoy it.” He pulls out momentarily, chuckling as you whine at the feeling. He sinks his thumb past your folds, gathering up any arousal he could before inserting his cock back inside, eliciting a low moan out of both of you. He smears his thumb across your puckered hole a few times, adding more pressure each time. Once he feels you relax more, he presses his thumb past the tight ring of muscles at the same time as he thrusts his hips deeply into your cunt.

You suck in a breath and hold it, toes curling, and you bring the pillow even closer to your face, biting down on the satin pillowcase. He holds his position with his free hand on your hip, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. “Breathe, baby. It’ll feel better when you breathe.” He whispers, slowly pushing deeper until his knuckle slips past the muscles. You let out a guttural moan, pressing yourself back towards him, helping him get the rest of his thumb in. “Can I move again, y/n? You’re okay?” You nod into the pillow almost shouting a yes into it.

He resumes thrusting, starting slow, eventually building back up to his rapid pace curling his thumb with every thrust. Your moans are deep, cut off by trying to catch your breath every other moan. “Jungkook. I’m coming. Please. Let me. Say I can come.” If he wasn’t so close himself, he’d be chuckling at you begging, teasing you and edging you. But he needs his release just as much as you do.

“Come for me, baby. Let go. Come all over my cock.”

And that’s all you need to hear before you’re screaming his name and varied obscenities, clenching around him as you enter a state of euphoric bliss. You see stars and in the background you hear him groan deeply, coming inside of the condom deep inside you. He eases his thumb out of you while you’re out of it and just takes in the view below him, face still in your pillow, back shivering and rising and falling in time with your rapid breathing. How the hell did he just have the best orgasm of his life with a girl he literally met twice even though you’ve been neighbors for who knows how long? His hand on your hip tightens a little as he moves to pull out of you. A small whimper coming from you in the pillow.

Once he’s fully pulled out of you, you fall on your side, freeing the pillow from your face, ignoring the drip of saliva coming with it and watch him begin to remove the condom. You’re exhausted. You don’t want to keep going. Yet your body moves of its own accord and you hold yourself up enough to reach out to stop him from doing it. “Let me” you choke out. He removes his hands, watching you carefully as you slowly remove the condom, hissing slightly at your touch.

You hand him the condom to tie up and toss aside and gently hold up his length covered in his release and, locking eyes with him, lick up his length. “What the fu-uck?” He groans out, tossing his head back. You clean up every inch of him, ending on his tip and he has to softly push you away before he gets hard again. “No. Baby, stop. No more. I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I am spent.” He whispers into a laugh.

You grin up at him, launching yourself backwards, spreading out on the bed. Your shirt riding up your stomach. He’s not sure what to do next. Should he leave? Ask to use your restroom first? But why do that when he lives next door. You can see his confusion, you pat the space next to you, gently moving yourself over, wincing all the while, so he has room. He smiles, laying down on his side next to you. It’s silent for a moment. He reaches out to play with the bottom of your shirt.

“Is there a reason you kept this on?” He questions, mindlessly running his fingernails across the hemline.

“It’s too big. Makes me feel small. And you haven’t earned the right to see this divine pair of tits.” You smile at his gaping reaction.

“After all that?! And I still don’t have the privilege?” He drops the fabric and waves his hand around the both of you. “Literally ruined you and I don’t get to see the goods.” He whines dramatically. You giggle, sleep fast approaching.

“Next time.” You mumble.

“Oh there’s a next time?” His eyebrows raise and he smiles.

“You think after all that,” you mimic his gestures, “I wouldn’t want a next time?” You both burst into a fit of giggles. He stops first, reaching out to remove a strand of hair from your face.

“Well I surely look forward to next time then.” He whispers softly, moving a bit closer at the same time.

“Who knows? Next time could be in the morning.” You say it so confidently. You had expected him to fuck you and bolt. But him staying has to mean at least a little something, right? Except his happy expression falls into that of worry and uneasiness.

“I actually have to go out of town tomorrow.”

“Oh…” you frown, trying not to look too devastated. He cups his hand around your face, gently smiling.

“I’ll be back in like three days. I’ll let you know. Then we can have as many ‘next times’ as you want, okay?” He grins as your expression perks back up, leaning across to give you a few soft and sensual kisses. “I’m going to stay here until you fall asleep. But I have to pack, so don’t think I just got up and left in the morning, okay?” You nod your head, shuffling closer to tuck your face into his chest and drift off to sleep immediately.

When you wake the next morning, he’s gone. As he said he would be. And thus began three days of complete silence.

On the day of his alleged return, you stayed home all day pampering yourself. You put on one of your favorite lingerie sets that really enhanced your already marvelous chest and curves and put the same big shirt back on over you.

You were ready by midday but you had one problem. You had no idea when he was coming back. You two didn’t swap phone numbers or socials. He didn’t tell you any details. So you spent the rest of the day on the couch moping about being fooled. Which didn’t make sense in the first place. You two weren’t anything. You had a crazy intense one night stand and that’s it. There was no date offered. No deal made. Nothing. So why were you getting dressed up for a one night stand? You tried to reason with yourself until you fell asleep on your bed around 8PM, figuring he wasn’t going to come back, and if he did, he forgot about you either on purpose or accident.

You’re jolted awake by loud music and the beautiful voice of your stupid sexy neighbor at 11PM.

“What you doing? Where you at? Oh, you got plans? Don't say that. I'm sipping wine in a robe. I look too good to be alone. My house clean, my pool warm. Just shaved. We should be dancing, romancing in the east wing and the west wing of this mansion, what's happening?”

He sounds like he’s directly on the other side of the wall and you both hate him for doing this and love that this is how he’s waking you. He continues on as you check yourself in the mirror, convincing yourself you still look good and not to get too excited and eager.

“I ain't playing no games. Every word that I say is coming straight from the heart. So if you tryna lay in these arms, I'ma leave the door open.”

He belts out the last line and you can’t help but laugh. After a final once over, you head out of your room. He’s still singing as you put your slippers on and head out the door.

“And I'm hoping, hoping that you feel the way I feel. And you want me like I want you tonight, baby.”

You turn to his door but it’s already cracked open. You roll your eyes at his ridiculousness and open the door to a reverse layout of your apartment. You take your slippers off and follow the sound of his beautiful voice to a room with the door closed. You knock and he answers, finishing the song as your eyes meet his.

“Girl, I'm here just waiting for you. Come on over, I'll adore you.”

The song ends and your smile turns to one of annoyance.

“You didn’t tell me when you were coming back. I waited all day wrapped up like a gift for you and honestly the least you could’ve done is write down a flight numbe - “ he shuts you up with a greedy kiss and you melt instantly as he pulls you closer.

“What’s the gift? Do I get to see this divine chest I’ve heard rumors about?” He grins into the kiss, and you hold the laugh in. You step away from him and remove your shirt, showing off the extravagant set underneath. He lets out a strained groan. “You just don’t know how to warn a guy, do you? Get on the damn bed, Sparkles.” He snaps, pulling you into the room and shutting the door. The start of another intense night.

AN: yay open endings. Decide how it goes. Fwb? Lovey dovey? Have fun. Thank you for reading, I love you! 💜💜💜💜💜

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imagining-in-the-margins · 8 months

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CM Meet Cute (or not) Challenge 📚☕️

The following are prompts including a Meet Cute/Ugly scenario (any first-time-meeting)! Reader or OC, Gen/Platonic, AND Character/Character fics are allowed!

This event is over (Masterlist of Fics here), but you are welcome to use any of these prompts. If you would like to be added to the existing Masterlist of entries, please check out the Rules below!

☕️ Generic Prompts 📚

Character gets locked out and their neighbor picks the lock for them.

Characters get the same coffee order. They both reach for it at the same time.

Characters get paired up at the work event icebreaker.

Characters both duck for cover under the same tiny storefront when it starts pouring.

Character is knocked into a stranger’s lap on the bus.

Characters are both stood up at the same date spot.

Character sits next to a stranger in the theater, but the two end up bonding when there’s a technical glitch.

On Character’s first day at the new job, they get stuck on the elevator with their new coworker.

Character breaks their heel/slips on the way into their new job. Their new coworker manages to catch them.

Character accidentally dumps their coffee on someone in a very dramatic fashion.

Character accidentally causes someone to slip and fall. They try to help them up, but they both fall down.

Characters are sat together on a long train ride.

Characters are on rival teams at a work event.

Characters reach for the same book at the library.

Character sits next to someone at an academic conference. They get way too excited about a topic that’s taboo/uncouth to normal people.

Character accidentally messages the wrong number. A stranger answers.

Character offers unsolicited fashion advice to a stranger in the dressing room.

Characters wear matching masks at a masquerade party.

It isn’t a meet cute at all. They know each other already but they don’t notice for an embarrassingly long time.

Character realized they left a piece of clothing in the laundromat but when they return, someone’s already started a load. The pair wait for it to finish together.

Character accidentally bumps into someone’s car in a parking lot. They are very upset… until they realize how cute the other one is.

Anything else you can think of!

🍄 Autumn Prompts 🍁

Character gets lost in a corn maze… meant for children. They begrudgingly ask a total stranger, for help.

Character fight over a perfect pumpkin at the patch and explain why each of them needs it.

Characters show up in an accidental couples’ costume.

Character tries to scare their friend, but ends up spooking a complete stranger.

Character steps on a stranger’s shoe… and realizes they are dressed like Cinderella.

Character accidentally gets hurt in a spooky attraction and a scare actor breaks character to help.

Character gets scared in a haunted tour and jumps in the arms of someone they think is their friend—but it’s not.

Character thinks someone is in a costume and tries to guess what it is. They’re not in a costume.

🫣 Dialogue Prompts 😅

“Hey, sorry, can I give you my number?” “What?” “Oh, not like that—I lost my phone.”

“My kid thinks you’re a real princess. Would you mind taking a photo with them?”

“I think we accidentally swapped orders. By the way, what the hell is in this?”

“Hey, would you mind talking to me so this creep will leave me alone?”

“Is it possible to actually die from embarrassment?”

“I definitely would have remembered meeting you.”

“Watch where you’re going!” “… You ran into me?!”

“That diamond is fake.” “So is the engagement.”

“You aren’t some crazy serial killer, right?”

“Do you believe in fate?”

“This is way too cliche.”

Rules 📚

The fic can be a Reader insert, an Original Character, a character/character ship, a platonic ship, or a Gen fic. It can feature any Criminal Minds character. AUs are more than welcome.

Tag me in the fic, or send the link to me in a Direct Message. It can be already written, or you can write it for the challenge - I’m collecting both! You can also tag it “#mentioningmargins” which is a tag I track.

The fic can be any genre, but ONLY send me smut if your bio states you are 18+. I DO NOT WANT smut written by minors. Ever. At all. I will check. Platonic ships and pure, fluffy fics are 100% allowed.

Please include Content Warnings and a one-sentence Summary of the fic in your post.

Have fun!

Happy Writing!

#spencer reid #aaron hotchner #tara lewis #emily prentiss #luke alvez #penelope garcia #david rossi #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #cm writing challenge #writing challenge

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ghostingaces · 1 year

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We Need To Talk About Glass | 141 x Reader/Oc

Synopsis; There’s something not right about the rookie

Warnings; vague horror themes and foul language

Notes; Glass is technically an oc but I don’t mention a name or physical description in this, even though she has one, is because this is kind of like a screen test for her. The only description so far is she's tall, Irish, and has plale eyes. This au is also inspired by this and this which I absolutely adore. This is my first piece of writing on this site so I hope you enjoy.

Its also only Price and Ghost for now. It’s a bit rough. Part Two here.

▄︻̷̿┻̿═━ 一

Most of the file before him was blacked out.

Rows upon rows of dark lines stared back at him as he flickered through the manilla folder, crime scene like photos of bloodshed tacked to pages after pages of mission reports. Occasionally the repetitive drivel would be interrupted by a disciplinary report, but those were drowned out with commendations.

“No picture?” Prime hummed as he flipped back to the first page.

“No Sir” The Irish Ranger in front of him answers. He's a tall man, bald with keen green eyes, and the rookies former CO. Lieutenant Byrne. A respectable and very capable man. A man who’s knuckles had been bone white on the file when he handed it over, green gaze refusing to flicker over the pictures he had probably seen dozens of times already. He had probably lived through several.

Price cast his gaze back down to the first page of the rookies file. Her name was simple and easy to remember, but distinct enough to suit her stature. He read it twice again just to make sure that it stuck though.

He rubbed his eyes as an uncomfortable itch overtook them.

“Infiltration, demolitions, interrogation, guerrilla warfare..., Jack of all trades aren't you...” He read over the callsign inscribed on the page “Glass”

The figure in the corner nodded. A scratchy voice echoed from behind the balaclava “Yes sir”

He had barley noticed the woman when she had walked into the briefing room behind Lieutenant Byrne. Draped in all black and of a similar stature to the man, she had seemed more of a shadow then person. By the time Price had realised she wasn't just an apparition, she had retreated into the dark like she belonged there.

“Before you're cleared for active duty you'll run some sims with the team” He explained. He settled his gaze on where he thought her eyes would be but could only see the shimmer of something staring back at him.

“Yes Sir”

“Even after that you won't be let out on the field for a while, not until you sim scores are perfect. Any objections?”

“No Sir”

“I expect perfection for my team, no room for mistakes.” Price stood from his desk and circled it slowly so he could sit closer to Glass (what was her name again?) and stare into the depths of the shadows that covered her “Understood”

There was what he perceived as a nod “Yes Sir”

“Good.” He grunted before reaching out to the other ranger for a grateful handshake “Lieutenant Byrne, thank you for the introduction but I can take it from here”

“Of course Sir” The irishman smiled aloofly has he shook the captains hand, grip firm, before stepping back closer to the woman “I’ll be out of you hair by the morning.”

Captain Price nodded with an amicable smile and watched as Byrne stepped closer to the woman who had moved to face him. They spoke in hushed voices, a flush of cold sweat gathering across the mans bald head, and what sounds like him snapping out a small ‘behave’ bounced around the room before he moved briskly to the door. It open with a scream of rusted hinges.

“Good luck Sir” Lieutenant Byrne smile tightly and shut the door behind him.

Good luck?

Price watched him go, head turned towards the door, before looking back to Glass.

She was closer than before.

A lot closer.

He could make out the structure of sharp bones under the black balaclava, high cheeks and an almost roman nose, as well as tired pale eyes that seemed to look perpetually glassy. He looked away when the itch returned. John huffed, callused hands rubbing his eyes softly, and watched in his peripheral is Glass continued to stare.

When the ache subsided, he offered a hand to shake “Welcome to the 141″

The corners of her eye crinkled every so slightly and he caught what looked like a smile in her dead eyes “Happy to be here Sir”

He could feel the ice of her skin through her gloves when they shook hands. Something distinctly wrong settled in his chest as he stared into her almost fake looking eyes. (Iris too glass like, pupils to much like a void)

What was her name again?

▄︻̷̿┻̿═━ 一

There was something wrong with Glass.

Something almost artificial, something uneven in the way she walked. Something doll like in the way she turned her head.

Ghost, the paranoid man that he was, noticed it first.

Noticed the lights that flickered when she walked into the room, a figure that wasn't her appearing in the shadow, before the bulbs would return to their usual florescent glow. The woman didn't seem to notice (or she didn't care) and was content to to carry on with her day. Ghosts eyes would follow her though, catching her gaze in the mirror she walked past. (He knew for a fact all the mirrors in her room were covered)

Her reflection would linger a moment while her body walked on.

Every instance of wrongness was so quick.

Too quick, like she was teasing him.

Daring him to say something.

He never told anyone he saw it happen

She made attempts to be normal. Well versed on most topics, she held up conversation easily (if you could ignore you own voice echoing back at you occasionally) but her gaze seemed to pierce through you. Glassy. Fake. Eyes more lifeless than the taxidermy deer head his father hung above the mantle.

He’d watch her for the rest of the day.

He'd watch as she stalked from room to room, lingering in the back, ghoulishly pale eyes fixated on the people that milled about, as if waiting on one to walk off alone so she could follow. Stalking like a predator, like something hungry.

People had been going MIA recently

He’d never seen her eat, never drink, never seen a sliver of skin that wasn't the greasepaint covered flesh around her eyes. Hands constantly bound in leather gloves, tall body locked away in layers of black fabric and body armour. However, in spite of the heavy boots she wore, her steps were basically soundless. She moved like smoke.

“Keep sneaking up on me and I might shoot you” He had snapped one day, tone playful but a genuine threat thinly veiled in his words. He wasn't comfortable with her at his back, not with the knife always on her belt.

Glass has simply laughed, the sound as grating as nails on a chalk board, before she slinked off to to bother Soap or linger in Prices shadow, knife hilt glittering like polished gold.

A Celtic cross was carved into the handle.

A similar gold one hung from a thin chain around her neck, weathered with age and handling, but meticulously cared for.

Soap had asked is she believed in God when he first saw it dangling around her throat, polished gold blindingly vibrant against the blood and black of her tac vest. The chain was short which made the sigil sit right on her breastbone, right above rows of magazines waiting to be used.

Glass had chuckled hoarsely, like she thought having faith in something was more of a desperate joke more than anything else, before spinning a painful vague story about a grandmother and family heirlooms.

Ghost new many people in the service who believed in one god or another, he knew how important it was in a job like this to have something to hold onto to ground yourself when the bullets started flying and bodies dropped around you. Knew it was better to have anything than to let horror of the job eat you alive.

But Glass?

He knew no god could help that creature.

#call of duty fanfic #john price x reader #simon riley x reader #kyle garrick x reader #john mctavish x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #141 x reader #call of duty original character #Cod oc; Glass #Glass tag #shattered tag #call of duty oc #cod oc

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onewmin · 8 months

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so it goes | kim mingyu

Pairing: idol!Kim Mingyu x idol!(implied)fem!reader (but can be gn!reader)

Summary: Perhaps, you shouldn’t be thinking about Mingyu at your friend’s party. Perhaps, you have to stop reminiscing about the night you spent with him. Perhaps, it’s too late for you to fall head over heels for someone. Or maybe, you’re not too old for the sweetest guy you’ve ever met.

Genre: Fluff, suggestive (if you squint), overall, two people are falling in love

Word count: 2184

Warnings: AU (cause in no way I’m saying it’s real), the reader is torn apart, mentions of cheating, slightly suggestive, the reader is older, mentions of social pressure

Author’s note: idk what it is but here we are. it’s pretty short and is mostly focused on the reader (it’s becoming my signature mark I guess lmao). Hope your enjoy it! Tell me what you think <3 p.s. the pictures are taken from Pinterest, so if you know the owners, please let me know so I could credit them! header cr — @/minzvk on Pinterest.

Disclaimer: the names and the appearances of real people are taken for the writing purposes only.

You did something bad. It’s not something illegal that could get you in jail, nor it is anything to be ashamed of. Well, technically, your media persona would be destroyed in an instance if they found out what happened.

As you glide through the chitchat, giving sweet smiles, bowing and trying to hold two drinks in your hands, you look for Jihyo, who seems to be lost in the crowd. It was her party, the celebration of her solo debut, and the club was filled with every other idol possible. The person you did the bad thing with included.

“Ah, there you are'', you panted, shoving a drink in Jihyo’s hands, “it’s impossible to get through here”.

She nodded, taking a sip, and immediately engaged in a conversation with somebody else. No matter how happy and supportive you were of your friend, your mind couldn’t help but wander, couldn’t help but think about the bad deed that happened two days ago. How horribly brainwashed were you to think doing that thing was the end of the world?

Sipping on your drink, your eyes wandered around the room too. Not wearing your contacts was a terrible idea as now you couldn’t recognize anybody unless they were close to you. Or unless they stood right in front of you, waving their hands closely to your face. Perhaps, it was for the best — you wouldn’t be able to see his face as well.

Your phone buzzed in the pocket of your jeans. Reading the message, you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, as you nervously ran your hand through your hair.

“Can’t stop thinking about you”.

You raised your eyes from your phone screen, turning your head in desperate attempts to find him. To notice him from across the room didn’t even require you squinting your eyes — he was the only person who stared directly, shamelessly. You could swear he smirked when you looked back at him; however, maybe it was your imagination, playing dirty with your already burning mind.

You ran your hands through the hair again, sighing deeply and staring at your screen. Scrolling up your almost one-sided texting with the contact ‘Mingyu’, your brain couldn’t focus on anything but the memories of him from two nights ago.

‘Please don’t ignore me’.

‘Mingyu, we can’t’.

‘Why?’

‘Please answer me. Please’.

‘Just tell me why. Tell me why and I won’t bother u ever again’.

Easier said than done. Why, Mingyu? The answer is both simple and overcomplicated at the same time. Because you were older than him — not too much, he was just three years younger. Three years younger, super popular and way out of your league. That’s what you were confident about; although, Mingyu was absolutely different in his opinions. But just to think about it… You debuted almost twelve years ago, when he was, what? Thirteen? Fourteen? Isn’t it weird?

Only in your head, perhaps.

But in these twelve years you did your absolute best to never be caught in any dating scandals. Even with your ex-boyfriend of nine years, who was an ex-trainee turned into a dancer, you never went public. First because you both were too young, and your agency didn’t allow dating (who listens to them anyway, right?); second — you were too busy with your schedule, singing, blooming acting career and university studies to even consider having a public relationship; and third? Because he didn’t want to. He enjoyed living in comfort of being incognito, of having no responsibilities publicly. He could flirt with girls, get on dating apps, go out with random ladies and eventually, as you found out later, sleep around in your shared bed. In the bed that you bought. In the house that you paid for. Yeah, it was hurtful to catch him red-handed, but hating him helped come through the breakup faster. A year and half with the therapist's help, moving from the house to the apartment, getting a dog and a cat, and gaining new hobbies and friends — yeah, you were much better off without his jealous ass.

To consider dating after him, though? Wasn’t possible. Building up trust from scratch after you’d spent almost a decade with one person wasn’t even on the table. So you thought.

You knew Mingyu long before you changed agencies, almost right from their debut. He never failed to tell you how much of a fan he was, his cheeks turning rosy, while he was fiddling with his fingers. He seemed like a nice, sweet boy. Until a month ago.

“Oh, Mingyu!” Someone exclaimed, pulling you from your ever-wandering thoughts. “Good to see you!”

Oh god, he was right in front of you now. The black baggy T-shirt he wore was probably the exact same one from two nights before. Yeah, it was that tee. Oh shit.

“Mingyu”, you whimpered, back pressed to the wall, as his hands were roaming around your body.

“What, love?” He murmured, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your neck. The unexpected pet name he’d given you sent vibrations down your spine, turning you into a melted vanilla ice-cream under a scorching sun.

“We…can’t”. Your words came out as a whisper when he stopped all of his movements to look at you. His dark chestnut eyes magnificently bewitching — as if he had put a spell on you.

“Why?” He uttered, hands squeezing your waist. “We’re both attracted to each other, why not?”

You sighed, unable to give an answer. Your reasoning seemed to fall down at his feet, as it started to appear stupid at the moment. Who cares if you are three years older? He’s not far behind, a responsible adult, who’s also the most attractive person you’ve ever met. Not to mention he’s super smart, ready to pull up in his car to any place you call him from and makes the best homemade pasta in the world. When he holds your hand, gently rubbing your palm, you could swear it fits his big ones perfectly, and when he puts his arms around your waist, chin resting on your head, the heat of his body warming you in cool late August nights – as if you were born to eventually be loved by him. One night with him, preceded by a couple of months of pining, of watching him dance, talk, laugh, run, smile, blush, run hands through his hair, sheepishly bring you a coffee because he thought of you in the coffee shop… Mingyu drove you home endless times when your car was being repaired, and every time he did, he would walk you right to the door of your apartment, to make sure you got home safely. You couldn’t, you can’t count the moments when you thought of him. Every day. Every night. Every minute of your day, even those you spent in the studio. And when the pining was too much, it resulted in a cheek kiss turned into a heavy breathing and making out against the wall of your living room.

You hand touched his cheek. His eyes were clouded with desire as he observed your every move, leaning into your touch. “No reason”. You didn’t let your doubts take over the moment. Not with him.

And now Mingyu was standing right in front of you, a silver chain on his neck glimmering in the dim light of the club. The thought about this same chain, dangling on his neck and sending shivers all over your body every time it touched your skin when he was kissing you in the dark of your room, seemed to absolutely absorb you. And your shameless staring didn’t escape Mingyu’s attention either.

“You seem busy these days”, he said, obviously hinting at you ignoring his texts. You let out a sigh, not having the slightest idea what response you could give him.

“I have a comeback soon”, you cleared your throat, “so there’s a lot to do”.

He nodded. “Avoiding me included?” That horribly smug smirk made you close your eyes and take a deep breath. He did not just say that here, where multiple people could hear him.

“Let’s not talk about it here”, you leaned in to almost mumble it in his ear. He glanced at your lips, a slight head tilt away from his. It was too late when you realized how close you were, but Mingyu didn’t let you get away easily when he grabbed your hand.

“As you wish”. He almost dragged you from the spot you were hanging around, his hand squeezing yours a bit too hard. You felt as if you were under scrutiny, when every other person in the club was eyeballing the scene that Mingyu created. However, no one seemed to take notice of him taking you out of the club. Hopefully, none of your girlfriends did – otherwise, you’d have to deal with their constant taunting forever. They always joked how you were the ‘least scandalized’ concerning your dating life (and less experienced, as you spent your younger years being practically married to one man). And if they find out about Mingyu? A never-ending saga it would be.

When you were outside, a group of paparazzi almost caught you – or so you thought – but Mingyu was quick enough to move to the opposite direction, where no photographers or strangers could catch you. He took you to the parking lot, right to his car.

The place was empty, not many cars were occupying the parking spaces. At one point, when you observed the area, you dropped his hand. However, it didn’t help: Mingyu took both of your hands in his immediately, gently rubbing your palms once again.

“Did I do something wrong?” He muttered, eyes glued to your hands. An immediate string of pain poked your heart, as you heard his brittle voice. He was too good to make him feel this way.

‘No”, you shook your head, cupping his cheeks and bringing his gaze back to your face, “it’s not about you, Mingyu”.

“Then what’s wrong?” He asked, his hands sweetly squeezing your wrists.

You looked down, unable to meet his eyes. That was so stupid, so… You couldn’t even find the words to describe what you were feeling. No matter how much you liked Mingyu, the thought of public going mad about the two of you dating was eating you from the inside. And the fact that you were slightly older than him… The whole stigma of women being older than their boyfriends was so terribly bizarre, to the point when even your cousin (whose partner was a year younger than her) was dragged by the whole family and called ‘too old’ for him. And you were three years older! What would they do to you? And what’s most important, what would the public do? How horribly would they tear your career apart? And what would they do to him?

“I don’t think..” You stuttered, looking down at your feet, “I don’t think I’m a good match for you”.

“Why would you ever think that?” It was his turn to cup your cheeks now to make you look at him. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted”.

“But the age-“

“Are you, like, what? Eighty?” The corners of your mouth quirked up. “I… I have feelings for you. I like you, I’ve had a crush on you since I first saw you”, he said under his breath, “and I know you feel the same way”.

The eye-contact seemed to be a non-verbal communication for the two of you; otherwise, if your gazes could speak, they would declare love poems for the whole world to hear. You weren’t sure what to respond, because, no matter how much the public opinion had altered so many things about you to fit in their idealistic standards, you, from the moment Mingyu and you got stuck in the elevator several months ago, from the moment you noticed his soft smile, had his silky voice be your shy companion for half an hour — from that moment alone you were mesmerized by him. Captivated. Did it really matter what the public would think?

“I do”. You almost gasped when his eyes lit up at your response. An angelic smile adorned his face, a face so delighted you could swear he had a garland behind him to lighten up the darkness of the night.

“Then let me take you home”, he murmured into your lips, “let me take you home every day”.

How in the world could you say no to him?

So it goes. Him, driving his car, stealing kisses from you at the red light and squeezing your hand in his; and you, catching the glimpse of every little thing he does, just so you can savour these memories when he’s far away. It feels different — to be able to fall in love slowly, feeling his and yours palms sweat whenever you hold hands; to laugh at stupid jokes the two of you make, to cuddle on the couch, while watching TV, to go on picnic dates, to finally be loved. Perhaps, this is everything you ever wanted.

#kim mingyu #kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu x female reader #kim mingyu x you #mingyu #mingyu x reader #mingyu x oc #mingyu x you #mingyu x y/n #mingyu x female reader #mingyu imagines #kim mingyu imagines

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irelandking · 9 months

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steve rogers fic recs

steve rogers x reader

❤️ = fluff 😔 = angst 🔥 = smut

modern cap steve x regular reader

series:

mr. steve - @pies-writes-and-more

part 2 Soulmate AU In a universe where your soulmate’s name is written on your wrist after you meet them, receiving a wedding invitation from her friend is just another reminder that (Y/N) has yet to find her soulmate. But maybe this wedding will be a little bit more exciting, with the help of a tiny child without a filter. ❤️

one shots:

the waitress - @pies-writes-and-more

Done for a writing challenge // song prompt: “If things get worse, will you still be here?” 405 by This Wild Life. Steve Rogers has finally worked up the guts to ask out the super cute waitress at the diner he frequents… except it’s hard to ask out of a girl when you’re a) already super nervous, b) unsure if it’s rude to ask her out, and c) when you have Dumb and Dumber insisting they tag along. ❤️

vigilante - @invisibleanonymousmonsters

Steve reacts to his girlfriend getting violently mugged. ❤️😔

under pressure - @invisibleanonymousmonsters

Steve still doesn’t know how to talk to women…let alone how to get a first date with one ❤️

boardroom fantasies - @pies-writes-and-more

prompt: “You wanna have sex….here? Now?” Steve can’t help how tight his pants get when (Y/N) is working nearby. While everyone else goes out for drinks, he pulls her aside to show her that the Accounting Guy who keeps asking her out isn’t who she should be with. 🔥

morning wood - @angrythingstarlight

Your new neighbor Steve gives you more than one surprise in the morning. 🔥

perfect - @tempestuous-lush

reader breaks up with steve over insecurities regarding lack of experience. he insists she is perfect, and proves to her just how perfect she is. 🔥

blind date - @invisibleanonymousmonsters

It had to be fate when Steve runs into his work crush on a stroll through his old stomping grounds. ❤️

guard dog - @invisibleanonymousmonsters

Sometimes Steve has to protect his girl from the least expected attacks. ❤️

agent/avenger reader

series:

start again - @wkemeup

part 2 A chemical spill, uncontrollable desires rushed to the surface, an unbridled need, and the consequences in the aftermath ❤️😔🔥

embarrassment - @a-confused-turtle

part 2 and part 3 A drunken game of truth or dare reveals what Y/N didn’t want anyone to know. She’d been perfectly and contentedly miserable before her slip up, but the confrontation over her little secret, which she avoids at all costs, quickly catches up ❤️

one shots:

blue - @pies-writes-and-more

Steve in blue is too much to handle whilst sober, (Y/N) decides. So while attending Tony Stark’s birthday party, (Y/N) doesn’t stop to drink her anxiety away making for entertaining company for Steve ❤️

hickeys - @a-confused-turtle

Y/N wakes up in her boyfriend’s arms and the day begins as it always does, sneaking out of his room, until Tony notices lovebites on shy, quiet Y/N’s neck. ❤️

wallets, keys and bobby-pins - @marvelouscaptainrogers

Soulmate AU where anything you lose suddenly appears in your soulmates possession, and anything they lose will appear in yours. It usually works swimmingly for everyone else, but what happens when your soulmate is technically around 75 years older than you? ❤️

insubordination - @marvelouscaptainrogers

Y/N likes to be a little asshole and not follow orders, and Steve decides she needs to learn her lesson 🔥

jealous (strong) steve - @pies-writes-and-more

Steve Rogers, the man behind the shield, knows that his strength only came from an injection. He isn’t a Norse god, how could he compete against Thor who seems to have all of (Y/N)’s affections? Steve Rogers is a jealous man. A strong jealous man who just keeps breaking things.❤️

whisper - @redgillan

Natasha and Sam have a plan to make Steve confess his feelings. ❤️

major crush - @redgillan

Laser Tag brings out Steve Rogers’ competitive side and Reader loves it. 🔥

it's your captain's birthday - @witchywithwhiskey

you're avoiding steve rogers' birthday beach party by relaxing in the ocean, but when he finds you alone in the waves, your captain is sure to let you know how much he appreciates that you wore a bikini in his colors to his party—and things escalate from there. 🔥

the best birthday gift - @witchywithwhiskey

you attend a party at avengers tower celebrating the fourth of july and steve rogers' birthday and make a fool of yourself when introduced to captain america, the man you've crushed on for most of your life. but when you run into him while avoiding the fireworks show, he's more than happy to spend his birthday distracting you from the party.🔥

steve - @assembletheimagines

Steve’s never had a blowjob and could you really consider yourself a friend if you didn’t suck his dick? 🔥

you'll always be the sexiest man alive to me, captain - @witchywithwhiskey

steve rogers is named people's sexiest man alive and his fellow avengers—along with their SHIELD support team—won't let him live it down, but when you make a smartass joke in front of your new colleagues, you catch the eye of captain america himself. turns out he *really* likes it when you call him captain. 🔥

college!steve

one shots:

kissing booth - @viollettes

After Nat volunteers your services at the kissing booth, you find yourself sitting across from you is none other than your best friend. ❤️

the end of the war - @redgillan

Everyone knows you and Steve can’t stand each other, but after he runs into you after one of his fights, he starts to see you in a different light.❤️😔

she calls me daddy - @hertzwritings

Frat-Boy!Steve Rogers x female reader 🔥

oopsy daisy - @whateveriwant

In order to keep the animal shelter from closing, your sorority holds a car wash as a fundraiser. Besides cleaning cars all day, you have another goal in mind involving a certain football-playing frat member. 🔥

modern au

series:

slow like honey - @heli0s-writes

The gossip that buzzes around in the teacher’s lounge is that sweet, sensitive, divorcé Steve Rogers is hot-for-teacher. His daughter’s first-grade teacher, to be exact. ❤️😔🔥

at your service - @writing-for-marvel

part 2 As your bodyguard it’s Steve’s job to look out for you, when you find him in a compromising position, it becomes your turn to look after him. 🔥

one shots:

a french kiss - @pies-writes-and-more

Y/N came to Paris with a plan: take a photo with a cute man next to the Eiffel Tower, just like how her and cheating ex-boyfriend had always planned on doing, and make that son of a bitch jealous. Thankfully, there’s a super cute blond guy who just so happens to be nearby. ❤️

take a hint - @pies-writes-and-more

(Y/N) literally just wants to go out and have a good time with her girls. So why do guys seem to never take ‘no’ for an answer? To try to prevent more annoying encounters with men who can’t take a hint, (Y/N) slips on two rings onto her left hand and assumes the married life. It’s all well and good… until someone sees the rings as a challenge. Enter from stage right, our hero. ❤️

ask - @angelkurenai

Imagine Steve wanting to introduce you, his fiance, to his friends for a long time but hesitating because he hasn’t told them something about your past and how you met. You were once his student. ❤️

nature's beauty - @biteofcherry

Your teasing comment about staying home barefoot and pregnant makes something in Steve snap. He’s now eager to turn it into reality. 🔥

lilacs & ink - @witchywithwhiskey

you go in to get your first tattoo and the very attractive tattoo artist steve rogers takes good care of you.❤️

mob!steve

series:

ask - @invisibleanonymousmonsters

part 2 two prompts combined ❤️ 1. here’s people chasing us and I pulled you into the alley with me and wow you’re close 37. We’re dating and I didn’t know you were a mobster

biker!steve

one shots:

where he belongs/don't f*ck with the queen - @angrythingstarlight

It’s not often someone challenges your place as Steve’s queen but they only make that mistake once. And Steve knows better than to let anyone think they can take your place. 🔥

#steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers smut #steve rogers au #steve rogers #steve rogers x you

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rrxnjun · 1 year

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annoying (derogatory). ldh

pairing: lee donghyuck x fem! reader genre: college au, halloween au | crack(?), fluff wc: 3k (2.920) warnings: too much alcohol, kind of rushed and very stupid a/n: i know its technically not halloween anymore but this idea came to me this morning and i just had to write it. haven't posted anything in a while and i missed writing a lot <3 also thank you @decembermoonskz and @yaesnovels for the help with this fic!

you arrive at a halloween party only to find out your biggest nightmare came true in real life: you accidentally wear matching couple outfits with your biggest enemy. or where annoying (derogatory) turns into annoying (affectionate).

Black skinny jeans, blue jean button-up, black shoes and a tacky black coat. Your eyes meet with none other than your main enemy, a shit-eating grin slowly creeping at his face making you freeze in your spot and arch your back like an angry cat when you realise a fact that is immediately confirmed by the snicker coming from behind your ear.

“Your couple costume is so good guys, didn’t know you were dating-”

“Jeno, shut the fuck up. You know damn well this is not a couple costume,” you mutter, not liking the fact that your friend is feeding into this situation.

“Oh,” Jeno blinks, faking a surprise, “but he’s Edward. And… you’re Bella… isn’t it a couple costume, then?” he asks, pouting, acting lost in thought.

“No, it’s not-”

“Just admit that you planned this all along, Y/N,” Donghyuck grins, “you wanted to match with me, obviously.”

“I did not! I didn’t even know you’re going as Edward. If I knew, I wouldn’t have gone as Bella, for fuck’s sake,” you mourn in agony, hating the Halloween party you were invited to already, solely for the fact that you’re accidentally wearing couple costumes with the guy you hate the most on this earth.

Lee Donghyuck has been on your death wishlist for as long as you’ve known him. His annoying (derogatory) attitude and the confidence he radiates was already a hint for you that you wouldn’t like him when you first met him at university, but it was only solidified on one sunny day when he made fun of your haircut. Yeah, it might have been a bad, terrible haircut– you can even admit that– but he really didn’t have to call you Dora the explorer every time he saw you at campus until your hair didn’t grow back. Yes, this was the exact situation that made you hate the guy more than you hate anything in this world. Some would say you’re petty. You just think you’re being reasonable.

“I talked about it in the groupchat!” Hyuck exclaims, referencing the Whatsapp group chat you’re both in because of mutual friends.

“Well, I have your number blocked so I don’t have to read your annoying messages every morning,” you snap, seeing Donghyuck only smile at your frustrated figure, making you more annoyed.

“I’ll have you know, Ryujin enjoys my good morning texts,” he smugly proclaims, shrugging.

“Yeah,” you nod, “because she lacks common sense,” you add, seeing the man in front of you snicker at your nasty remark, loving the sight of you all worked up and frustrated.

“Don’t be mean,” he says, “I thought that was my job. Or, at least, that’s what you told me when I called you Dora-”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, not this again,” you roll your eyes at him, not wanting to see the look on his face he always has when he teases you. “See? He’s being annoying again-” you turn around, wanting to find comfort in Jeno, only to realise he’s no longer watching over your little quarrel, but is standing in the corner of the room with his friends from class instead, drinking out of a small red cup.

Turning back around to see Donghyuck leaning on the kitchen counter, hands resting at the very top, you try hard to ignore the grin on his face. Catching him eyeing you from head to toe, you furrow your brows and shake your head in disapproval. “Stop staring at me, weirdo.”

“Just wanting to see if you’ve done a better job than me, that’s all.”

“Yeah, sure,” you sigh, walking over to the kitchen counter, looking for a cup that would contain something you’d enjoy drinking– because you can’t even smell vodka without wanting to physically carve your stomach out of your body (you’d call this reflex your bad flashbacks from war)– Donghyuck’s voice lands into your ear once again, possibly the effect of his figure standing so close to yours.

“Chill out already, would you? Let’s dance,” he says, pointing his chin towards the living room, resonating with roaring music and filled with various other people from your university, all dressed in costumes. A rumor has it that Johnny-- the host-- was kicking out everyone that came without one, and with how much this guy loves Halloween, you don't even try to doubt the information.

You huff, laughing at Hyuck's proposal. “I would rather die than to dance with you, Lee Donghyuck.”

Silence– well, to a certain extent, with the loud EDM music playing in the background– overtakes the two of you after your response, your eyes still searching through the sea of alcohol poured in various red cups over on the kitchen counter, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Do these people really not drink anything other than vodka and cheap beer? Sighing in disappointment, almost reaching for the beer– because everything’s better than vodka– a hand holding a single red cup comes into your rear point of vision, making you look up at your silent companion in confusion.

Taking the cup into your hand and sniffing, your eyes meet your supposed enemy, to which he expressionlessly says: “Rum and coke. I know vodka makes you puke.”

“Thanks,” you say, hesitantly taking a sip and averting your gaze from the male, taken aback by his sudden act of service.

“Will you dance with me now?”

Sighing, you shoot him a glance, seeing the shit-eating grin appearing on his face again, making your blood boil at unreachable heights. “I will kill you tonight, Hyuck.”

“We’ll see about that, spider monkey.”

“Oh, you two look amazing together-”

“We’re not a couple,” you cut off the stranger passing you by on your walk down the street, sighing to yourself.

A few drinks, screams at the top of your lungs on the dance floor and selfies in your Halloween costumes later, you two and another few friends– the most sober ones of the group– were sent on a McDonald’s run. You argued that you could just order pizza, or that you could just get Postmates, but Jisung got too drunk to remember how it works and insisted on you getting it personally, because, quote, the stranger could eat his chicken wings, and, well, Jeno can never say no to Jisung, so… here you are.

“Not gonna lie, dudes,” Mark says, laughing to himself, “the disgusted look on Y/N’s face every time she has to explain this to someone is the only thing keeping me going right now.”

“I’m glad that at least someone is having fun,” you mutter under your breath.

“Who said he was the only one? I am enjoying this,” Donghyuck snickers, walking by your side as if to annoy you even further. Every time his hand accidentally brushes against yours as you walk– because even though you’re the most sober of the group, the amount of rum and cokes you’ve drank tonight is still enough to make you walk a little to the side– makes you want to turn around on your heel and scream into an endless void full of your misery.

Every time you see the man next to you grin with his perfect pearly whites, the hairs on your arms stand up in nerves, your stomach feels funny and the pit on the very bottom of it only deepens. You’ve never felt this much frustration, annoyance and anger towards someone. Normally, you’re a pretty chill person– it’s just that Lee Donghyuck is a menace to society and to yourself twice as much.

Walking into the McDonald’s that’s luckily only a few streets away from Johnny’s house, you stand in line and wait for your turn to finally order the endless list of meals the group waiting back at the party managed to stick together. Looking around, seeing a long line of teenagers dressed in various costumes, you find a new sense of appreciation for humanity. Isn’t it funny how once a year, we dress as someone else for one day just because we feel like it? Humans are actually pretty cute, if you think about it.

Lost in your thoughts, you almost don’t notice Donghyuck talking to someone that’s standing behind him. His words blur in your tipsy mind, allowing yourself to relax for just a bit and calm down before you have to carry the bags with food down the street again, back to the party, when the words girlfriend and Bella startle you awake.

“Yeah, it took me so long to convince her to come as Bella, ‘cause she always refuses to watch the movies with me, but she loves me too much, so she finally agreed-”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Donghyuck?” you ask, not even having enough energy to scream at him anymore, just furrowing your brows in resignance.

“Don’t mind her, she gets a little grumpy when she’s drunk, right, sweetie?” Hyuck grins at you as he puts an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. The smell of his showergel mixed with the cologne he uses– strawberries and coconut with just a hint of pinewood– hits your nose, making you swim in a weird sense of comfort and jumpiness. You once told him he uses too much cologne. He joked that it was so you would notice him, but ever since, the smell of his cologne has become less prominent, the sweet mix of strawberries and coconut making itself more known to your nose every time he was close to you in any way.

“We’re not even dating…” you lock eyes with the stranger dressed like Batman as you sigh, seeing the confusion in his hooded eyes when they jump from your figure to Donghyuck’s close to each other in a comfortable embrace.

Standing in the line at McDonald’s, various grinning teenagers pointing towards you two and telling you what a cute couple you are, you grow tired of explaining to them that your matching costumes are a mere coincidence. And with Lee Donghyuck sabotaging your every attempt at getting it straight and telling everyone that you actually hate your supposed other half, it becomes impossible to spread your truth, and so you just eventually stop trying.

Drinking so much the world is spinning and you feel hot in your cheeks, talking in the kitchen with Jaemin, Jeno and (ignoring) Donghyuck, you feel like this evening couldn’t get any better. You see, you may sound like an alcoholic right now, but the more rum and coke you drink, the less you mind Hyuck’s annoying teasing and the bad music choices from the resident DJ Jungwoo. You asked him to play Pitbull twice. He refused both times, and if that’s not a sign of a bad DJ, you don’t know what is.

Laughing at a joke Jaemin made, you momentarily lock eyes with Hyuck before you jump up in surprise at a loud scream coming from behind your back.

“Bella! Where the hell have you been, loca?!”

Turning around, you see a tall man with a wig on, wearing the most ratchet outfit cut out of a 2009 movie– there was no doubt, this was none other than Xiao Dejun dressed as Jacob from Twilight. Laughing at the whole situation– because there’s nothing else you’re able to do now, after realising that the three of you accidentally wore the costumes of a love triangle without knowing the other’s intentions, you watch as the man replicates the scene from the movie and runs towards you to pick you up into a spinning hug.

“This is getting ridiculous,” you giggle when he puts you on the ground.

“Why? You didn’t plan this?” he asks, seemingly not knowing about the rivalry between you and Hyuck as his eyes dance from him to you, seeing you shake your head in disapproval.

“Don’t listen to him if he tries to tell you otherwise, but no, we did not plan this,” you laugh, seeing Dejun join you in the little moment of you slowly going crazy.

“Well, that’s just great, because that means I can drag you to the dancefloor without Edward here getting mad at me!” Dejun yelps as he physically drags you to the living room by your right hand, body swaying to the beat of the never-stopping EDM music playing through the speakers. You don’t really remember you and Dejun being this close, you only had a few classes with him last semester, but it seems that the alcohol level in your blood is no longer letting you have any barriers tonight. Eyes shortly switching to the kitchen– completely subconsciously, really– you notice Donghyuck staring at the two of you with a cold look, jaw clenched. It only adds to the costume of Edward, you’d say, since you don’t remember the man having any other expressions in the movie, but the sight of Hyuck looking like that makes you a little taken aback, since you’ve never seen him with this face before.

“Are you sure you two didn’t come together? ‘Cause Edward Cullen over there looks a little jealous, if I may say so myself,” Dejun screams into your ear, making you roll your eyes at the comment.

“Don’t mind him,” you shake your head, “we hate each other.”

Dejun’s eyes widen at your last sentence, surprise overtaking his features. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you snicker, “he called me Dora the explorer for two months after I got a really bad haircut, I can’t stand that guy,” you laugh, seeing Dejun only snicker as he takes your right hand and rises it towards the ceiling, urging you to twirl for him like a ballerina.

“Well, that’s understandable,” he laughs, “even I’d hate him for that, if I was in your place.”

When the song ends and Dejun finds another familiar face in the corner of the living room, you find yourself sitting on the abandoned sofa in the middle of the room, finally letting yourself take deep breaths and try to force your head to stop spinning. Fanning your face before you take off your statement Bella zip-up hoodie, you let your eyes rest for a moment as you notice the sharp pain in your left temple– the first sign that you’ve had enough alcohol for tonight. Telling yourself you’re only gonna stay until you don’t feel a bit better, you try to force your brain to not shut off, before a painful slap to your thigh startles you awake as the sofa dips next to you with the weight of another figure.

“You okay?” you hear the all too familiar voice of none other than tonight’s Edward Cullen. After so many hours of being around him, you don’t even hate it as much anymore– in the loud screaming of the evening, you’d even consider it a safe haven.

Humming in agreement as you nod, you notice his hand on your thigh lightly massaging the spot he slapped before, the touch of his hand burns your clothed skin, sending shivers down your spine. “You want some water?” he asks, but as you shake your head to say no, there’s not a single thought in your head as you focus on the motion of his fingers on your leg, thinking of how you’ve never seen him so caring before, making you believe that maybe if he wasn’t so annoying towards you, you wouldn’t hate him as much.

“Do you want to go home?” he asks again, making you want to curse at him for breaking the silence (well, not really, since the havoc is still happening and the music is still playing), but instead, you only hum and cover his hand on your thigh with your palm, not even thinking about your actions. The danger of drinking is that you never know when the drink you have is the last one that takes you over the edge of having fun to being absolutely fucking miserable, and you think that the one you had right before Dejun dragged you to the dance floor was exactly the one doing just that.

“In a bit. Want my head to stop spinning so much first,” you say, letting your head drop onto his shoulder, enjoying the calmness of the situation after the stress and loudness of the whole night.

The smell of strawberries and coconut overtakes the smell of alcohol lingering in the room, calming your senses and making you wonder why you never gave Hyuck a chance before. It’s not like he was wrong about the haircut, after all…

“I’m team Edward, just by the way,” Donghyuck mumbles into your ear, making you snicker. To think you were considering that he wasn’t so bad just a few seconds ago…

“You know, Hyuck, I’m starting to think you’re an actual vampire, with how you’re sucking out my energy the whole evening,” you mutter, hearing the boy laugh at your comment before his tone turns suggestive as he leans even closer to your ear.

“Maybe I can suck your neck instead, like an actual vampire, you know-”

Feeling hot in your cheeks from the comment that just escaped from between his lips, hating the way it made you feel all funny in your stomach, you sigh and move away from him, standing up from the sofa in urgency. “I’m actually going to kill you, you know-”

“Oh, come on,” he giggles, taking you by your hand and dragging you back down to the sofa, “sit for a bit and then I’ll walk you home, okay? I was only joking…” he says, seeing you roll your eyes, but your body slides deeper into the sofa cushions, getting comfortable. “Unless…?”

Yeah, never mind. Lee Donghyuck is still the most annoying (affectionate) human being you’ve ever met in your whole, entire life.

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