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pigcowboys · 4 months

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secret santa !

pairing: percy jackson x female!reader

summary: camp half-blood decides to do secret santa this year.

warning(s): pre-established relationship and kissing but, none, mostly!

a/n: merry (late) christmas to everyone who celebrates it!! this was supposed to be out on christmas day but.. uh yeah. this is slightly self-indulgent.

“you’re doing it right?” you asked, adjusting your position on your bunk bed as you tried your best to scrub out the nasty maroon stain you’d spilled onto the fabric.

it was almost christmas day and with that important birthday coming up, it meant only one thing for you, gift shopping. not that you hated it — honestly. it was just the idea of somehow disappointing your friends.

the stakes were higher this year considering the fact chiron had brought up the idea of doing a secret santa with the rest of the camp. everyone voted in agreement the idea — well, except for clovis but, to be fair he wasn’t conscious when the announcement was made.

soon after it was set in stone that the camp would be hosting its very first secret santa and then following that, everyone was assigned a partner.

piper got annabeth, annabeth got leo, leo got piper and somehow travis stoll had gotten clarisse. that last part was going to be interesting. you even got someone as well, too. not that it made you anxious at all, you loved gifting people presents — great at it, dare you say.

well, it was a bit easier to gift people presents when you didn’t have to worry about whether or not your gift would somehow make the person hate you and question why they even started dating you in the first place.

so, it was safe to say you weren’t especially overjoyed when you got percy as your secret santa. your mind went blank as you shifted to the side, allowing percy to slide past you to reach for his paper with his santa.

you eyed him curiously as he stared at the words on the paper indifferently before a smile flashed onto his face. he turned the paper so your eyes had access to it clearly, completely missing the moment when your heart dropped.

"we got each other," percy said, tucking the paper into his pocket. "that's lucky, right?" you merely laughed nervously in response.

"yeah, totally." not lucky, not lucky at all.

“everyone is,” annabeth started “why? are you changing your mind?” annabeth asked, causing you to frown slightly.

“well, no..i think.” you trailed off, eyebrows furrowing as you flung your sponge to the side. gods, you seriously hoped this would wash out after a while.

“i wouldn’t wanna spoil the fun.”

“plus, you’re curious about what your secret santa might’ve gotten you.” annabeth chimed in.

“that too.” you replied. "any idea what percy might have in mind?"

annabeth merely hummed in response leaving you even more conflicted than before. what if he gets you an amazing gift and all you get him is some crap that he'll say he loves, a fake smile on his face before dumping it somewhere in his cabin 'till the next secret santa.

you didn't want to be that girlfriend. you actively rebuke any allegations that may have even brought that idea up.

“i am so screwed.” you sobbed out, pressing your fingers against your face as you sighed dramatically.

“you have time, use it.” annabeth reminded you. she was right, it was only 2 days till christmas day and even then, secret santa wasn’t going to happen till later into the evening.

“just don’t use too much, shopping places are never open for late minute gifts.”

“right, okay..” you murmured out. "i have time."

those 2 days came and went sooner than you expected it to and by christmas day morning, you were frantically wrapping up percy’s gift, thoughts racing as you tried to not think about whether or not the gift would be cool enough for him.

he’s be happy with anything you got him, you knew that. didn’t make ease your mind any less, though. you stumbled out of your cabin as you rushed towards the decorated tree that was out near the forest, courtesy of the demeter kids.

to be honest, even if you liked christmas or disliked it, everyone could appreciate the effort put into decorating the tree. especially with all the presents stacked under - it added to the scene. you bent down, carefully placing it underneath the tree, not too close so that it would obviously stick out, but not too far that people would forget it was there.

this was a big camp, after all.

you'd made your way over the mess hall, scanning over it for any signs of percy before taking a plate and shoving food onto it. you spared a part for your godly parent and then made your way toward the table to sit with everyone else.

even with percy missing, the mess hall was still lively - believe it or not. everyone seemed to be talking lively about their gifts and what they were expecting, something that didn't ease your anxieties about your own gift.

it didn't help at all when your eyes finally settled on percy's own across the room, a small smile pulling on his face as he tended to his plate. your mind had been so zeroed in on worrying you hadn't even clued in on the fact he was walking over to you, taking a seat beside you.

"thanks for saving me a seat." you fought back a smile at the sound of his tired voice. he must've been knocked out sometime after sword practice. you hummed in response, fiddling with your food as your mind raced.

your eyes drifted towards percy as you watched him silently from the corner of your eyes. between the bed hair and the disheveled state of his clothes, it was safe to say that he had just woken up. despite the anxieties that swirled in your mind and the ansty fidgeting of your legs, you couldn't deny that percy was gorgeous.

though, it just brought your mind back to your dilemma. secret santa would happen right after dinner and then would be campfire time. how could you sit and sing songs at the campfire knowing percy had hated your gift?

"you're being stranger than usual, y'know."

"hm?" you turned to look at percy who gave you a quizzical look. "i'm acting completely normal."

"you've barely touched your food."

you stared down at your plate, it looked like a ghost had gently floated over it - devoid of human ingestion.

"i'm not hungry." you lied, slapping yourself mentally when your stomach growled deeply.

"mhm.." percy nodded along, trying to suppress the smile on his face. "what's wrong?" he asked, pushing his plate aside as he turned his whole body to face you, something that didn't go unnoticed by you as you locked eyes with him.

"just..thinking."

"about?"

you narrowed your eyes at him, ignoring the tingling in your chest as you watched him carefully. you really hoped he hadn't caught onto the fact you were just checking him out at this point, turning your face away in embarrassment as you rested your head on your elbows,

"stuff."

"what kind of stuff?"

"important stuff."

"like what?"

"percy, will you leave me alone!" a laugh, followed by his hand brushing against your back soothingly. you titled your head up to look at him as your head rested on your elbows.

"sorry, sorry." he smiled. "just hang in there, okay?" was all he whispered in your ear before moving back to press a sloppy kiss to your head that made your face scrunch in disgust.

"gross...you're so disgusting, percy.." you murmur, wiping the wet blotch of spit that was left on your forehead from the kiss.

"i love you too."

"what'd you think you got?" piper asked, shifting in her seat slightly as she waited for annabeth to respond.

"you're asking me like you don't know what i got." annabeth replied with a small smile.

"can't hurt to imagine."

you zoned out the rest of the conversation as you suppressed the urge to scream out of frustration. the camp chatted lively around you, cueing you in on the fact that you'd been cuddled up beside percy without once offering a word to him.

not that he minded, he was aware you wanted to be with your thoughts and he respected it. just..didn't feel very..couple appropriate. it felt like you'd been talking to yourself way more than the guy who was supposed to be your boyfriend.

"quiet down," chiron's voice rang through all the chatter, reducing the crowd to silence. he'd somehow managed to shimmy matching ugly christmas sweaters onto him and mr. d respectively. the image alone made you want to pull out your phone and snap a picture.

though, you decided against it, taking notice of the death glares mr.d had sent your way.

chiron announced that secret santa would be happening in a bit, receiving a series of cheers from some campers in the crowd. you shifted slightly in percy's hold, prompting him to look at you - a curious look on his face.

"you okay?"

"yeah, it's just kind of cold, i guess."

percy hummed in response before pulling you into him so you were resting against his chest. he rested his chin on your head with a small smile.

“is this better?” he whispered, to which you merely hummed in response, snuggling yourself against him as you tried to get comfortable. now, you weren’t a fan of those overly lovely couples that couldn’t keep their hands off each other in public but, you had to admit that being in percy’s arms felt more than good with the day you’ve had.

chiron continued on with his announcements, listing out the series of activities tomorrow and also stating as well that the stables would be closed on account of an “accident” that had happened in there. that part was received with a small shiver.

“that’s all i’d like to say, furthermore, I’d like to wish everyone a merry christmas.” then, chiron and mr.d stepped to the side as the festivities continued on.

it was time.

“wonder what everyone got.” you murmured, watching quietly as the rest of the campers hurried towards the tree decked out with over the top presents. percy stood up, offering you his hand as he locked them.

“me too.” percy agreed, sighing slightly. “gods, all i hope is that someone doesn’t make the mistake of gifting travis firecrackers ever again.”

“or a megaphone.”

“oh, yeah, i totally remember that year.”

“I’m sure everyone else does too..”

percy cracked a grin, one that cause your stomach to flutter slightly as you smiled back at him. he squeezed your hand before making short strides towards the rest of the campers.

you should’ve been anxious — you were anxious. though, your concerns seemed to slip away the longer you stayed with percy. the way he looked at you, it made you realize just one thing that you were sure a crummy present wasn’t going to change.

he loved you.

camp activities were fun and all but, extremely loud.

you’d figured it’d only been amplified by the fact that everyone was opening their christmas gifts and comparing what they’d gotten from each of their respective partners.

you could respect that, secret santa was no joke.

yet, you’d still managed to slip away with percy while none of the adults were watching in favorite of opening your gifts in the company of one another rather than the rest of the camp. and judging by the sputters of stars in the night sky illuminating percy and your faces, it was a good call.

“you think they’ll be mad at us for ditching everyone else?” you asked, clutching your present to your chest as you adjusted your winter coat.

“we’ll be back before they know it,” percy replied, turning to face you with a smile. he was always smiling. “and anyways, everyone else would be too busy with their presents to care.”

you sighed, taking a seat next to percy as you rested his gift in-front of you. percy turned to look at you with an anxious look on his face as he cleared his throat, holing his hand out as he waited for you to take the gift from him.

you looked back at him, nerves set ablaze as well as you exchanged your gifts, resting the wrapped present in your lap as you ogled the festive paper.

“so, truth be told — i’m pretty nervous.” percy blurred out of the blue.

“gods, i’m so glad you said that cause, i so was too.” you sighed softly, your heartbeat stilling for the first time this night as you shifted your body so you were turned towards percy. “i really wanted my gift to special and.. i feel like if it isn’t you’d like hate me or something.”

“i could never hate you.”

you paused for a moment. it’d only be a few years since you’d started to date percy, you should’ve been more used to his personality. yet, it never seemed to catch you off guard when he said these kind of sentimental things.

“even if i got you like..a smelly sock for christmas?”

percy laughed before shaking his head. you bite the inside of your mouth, frowning slightly as your face grew hot.

“sorry, i’ve been so quiet tonight.” you averted percy’s gaze, picking at the clear taping of your present. “it’s just — I don’t know, i guess i was lost in my own head.”

percy watched you quietly, leaning forward to cup your cheek as he planted a soft kiss to your lips, pulling back to stare you head on in your eyes.

“don’t apologize for something like that, it’s fine — really.” percy replied, his voice soft and careful. it made your body feel warm.

“if you want, you could open my gift first,” he added, moving his hand to rest atop yours. “that way you won’t be so nervous.”

you smiled, a genuine one. “that or your gift will be so amazing that it makes mine look horrible.” percy grinned back at you.

“let’s see.”

you nodded, turning to stare down the gift in your lap before you started to unravel it. it wasn’t a particularly big present, not that you minded at all. anything from percy was something to treasure. you moved the packaging to the side carefully as you stared at the small box that hit behind it.

it wasn’t cardboard, more like.. leather? or silk. and it was blue — percy’s trademark. you looked to him with a curious look on your face before turning back to gaze at the small box. you let your finger glide over the material once more before you opened it.

“percy..?” you mumbled out, voice barely a whisper.

inside the box contained a small ring that looked to be just about the size of your ring finger. your heart dropped at the sight of it — in a good way. it was pretty, careful patterns etched into that showed that it was finely crafted. and at the center of it, a small gem that was the same shade of your favorite color.

the cherry on top.

your eyes started to water involuntarily as your lips trembled. you were at a loss for words, how could you say anything? you stared at percy in shock as you tried to grasp the right words to say, eventually coming up with the idea to not say any words at all, leaning forward as you pulled him into a tight hug.

percy hugged back immediately, burying his head into your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you gently.

you pulled back to look at him, tears pooling down your face as he wiped them away with his thumb, pressing a kiss to your tear stained cheeks.

“you’re..you’re totally insane for being nervous.” you managed out, laughing slightly as you choked back a sob. “how did you get the money to pay for this?”

“i saved up!” he replied brightly, a proud smile flashing on his face. your shoulders trembled as a warm laugh broke through your lips, causing percy to flush slightly in your hold.

“thank you so much percy.” you whispered, moving your hand to rest on his cheek as you spoke. “you really didn’t have to get me something like this.”

“it’s all fine.” he replied calmly. “it’s you were talking about, y’know.” your face burned with embarrassment as you smiled uncontrollably, pulling percy in for a deeper kiss.

you pulled away from him, watching quietly as percy took the small blue box you’d placed on the floor beside you and opening it. he held the promise ring in his hand, gently taking your own as he slid the ring on carefully. you watched him quietly before press another kiss to his face.

then another, and another.

and before you knew it, you were peppering kisses all over his face, taking the small giggles he emitted from his lips as a sign to do even more than before. percy managed your name out though his giggles, fingers digging into your winter coat as he tried to pry you off of him.

“the — gift!” he giggled, shutting his eyes tightly as you pressed another kiss to the bridge of his nose. “what about — your gift?”

“another time.” was all you whispered as you slid the gift away, focusing in on making sure you’d filled every single spot off percy’s with the feeling of your lips.

safe to say percy hadn’t gotten to see what you’d gotten him till a little later into the night.

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #x reader #x reader fluff #pjo fluff

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tvgirlcore · 2 months

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how would adam in eden treat his first wife reader

Was he an asshole before eve and lilith left him?

HOOOOLY CRAP GUYS. i went down the BIGGEST rabbit hole for this (perks of being sick and having free time)… first request!!!! (AND FEEL FREE TO LEAVE MORE :)) tysm!!! and with all the background research, i cooked !!! (proofread + i tried my best to make this accurate)

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

how would adam in eden treat his first wife reader?

was he an asshole before eve and lilith left him?

(no warnings, no pronouns used, but suggested you are his wife ^_^)

— in my opinion, lucifer pretty much messed with his whole love life. i think he would be much more chill than he is now. but to try and match his character, he will be a little egoistic.

you were adam’s first wife, and to him, you meant a lot.

seriously, being the first man on earth he grew to be a bit egotistical. but, you helped tone that down from him.

you knew he thought higher of himself, but you tried to remind him that humans should all be equal.

life was wonderful in eden. after spending time in eden with him, you both realized you were falling deeply in love with each other.

“hey, i think i’m in love with you.”

adam says with a grin, and you can’t help but reply,

“me too.”

and your relationship bloomed from there. he thought you were the most wonderful woman he would ever meet.

and as a few years passed, you became adam’s wife.

he could hardly believe it, considering how dumb he was. you were like a goddess to him. beautiful in every way, even if you didn’t think so. he would always tell you how important you are to him.

you spent days upon days with him, and you would plan various things to do.

one of your favorite activities was spending a day in the warm sun, prancing in meadows and playing in creeks.

adam just adored you, sometimes he got a little embarrassed to participate because of his somewhat ‘manly’ ego, but if you asked him to do anything, no questions, he’d do it right away.

“babe, there’s a bunch of flowers in your hair.”

he says, gently leaning forward to pick some of the succulents out of your hair. you two sat in the meadow, as adam hummed while doing so.

“what happens when we die?”

you say curiously, and adam looks at you wide eyed.

“oh, sweetness, don’t worry ‘bout that, ‘kay?”

you silently nodded, curling close to him. the sun was starting to set.

you two shifted on your backs to look at the stars, and he listened intently as you mumbled about the different constellations.

and soon, he knew when your speech got slower, and your hands stopped pointing up at the sky, you had fallen to slumber. and he follows quickly.

͙͘͡★

and you remained close, in love for years to come.

when it came time for death, you both succumbed.

when you made it to heaven, you were there together.

he was so happy, happy he is able to spend the rest of eternity with you.

extra / if he left you for eve + lillith (angstyyy kinda?)

when you and adam got married, you knew this wouldn’t last forever. you love him, so so much, but you knew he didn’t love you fully.

and that’s just who he was, perhaps. he was always eyeing other women, thinking he was superior to you, and seemed to become a bit short tempered around you.

and that’s when you couldn’t take it anymore. you confronted him, tears in your eyes.

and he left.

left you for eve, left her for lillith.

you knew there was no end to it, but when you became an angel, you saw just how fucked up he was.

he was even worse now, somehow, and you knew it was all his wives fault.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

research/long blabber about adam’s backstory i looked up to understand him further even after rewatching hazbin 4 times… adam’s first wife lilith married lucifer,, lilith and adam fought (as of religious text) demons =sinners and freedom with a life in heaven =exterminations lilith = left and kinda evil? adam =first man earliest of man and kinda worst of man? (according to lol more religious text blah blah blah) uprise because lilliths singing which adam took advantage of? alastor’s master = lillith..(theory i think) OH GOD IM SO CONFUSED anyways. lilith hates subservience (willingness to obey others unquestionably) that’s why she left adam?? adam =toxic masculinity. eve left to eat the apple from lucifer ADAMS EX-wife set lillith up? or what. first human. after his wife’s? he’s EXTRENELY cocky and arrogant in charge of annual extermination of sinners (because of overpopulation) is mean because he thinks it’s hilarious, who’s gonna stop him? adam thinks no one can change, and thinks heaven and hell is a great system. basically abuses his power.. lucifer had a baby with adam’s ex-wife and is indirectly responsible for adam losing out on paradise. adam didn’t eat the fordbifden fruit which is why he acts the way he does? god complex cuz he’s firsy man. lillith was the first woman in hazbin, lilith left because adam thought higher of himself. EVE ATE THE FRUIT of knowledge! i tried to use my brain to the max to make this so I HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!!

#adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin adam x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #fanfiction #tvgirlcore #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x oc

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sergeantbuckybarnes · 1 year

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mastermind // george weasley

Summary: You like Fred but he doesn’t seem to reciprocate your feelings, so you ask George to fake date you to get his twin attention, but the faking soon turns too real.

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: unrequited love, fake dating, angst, a bit of fluff

A/N: As always, remember English is not first language. Also, thanks to @allyjoe755 for proofreading this!

main masterlist

“You’re staring again.”

You turned to your friend. “I am not.”

Bernice arched an eyebrow, gazing at you with skepticism.

“Okay, I was staring,” you said defeatedly, looking down, “but Binnie, look at him; I just can’t help it.”

You'd been infatuated with Fred Weasley since the first time you met him. You'd spent the last few months trying to flirt with him and show him how you felt, but he didn’t seem to be on the same page.

“Why don’t you ask him out? Straightforward. Without beating around the bush.”

“And have him laugh in my face, leaving me with shame and rejection for the rest of my life? Thank you, but no. Besides, Fred is no idiot; he clearly observed my advances on him and chose to ignore them since he isn't interested.”

Bernice remained silent for a few minutes before breaking into a wicked smile. You knew what that smile meant; you'd seen it a thousand times since you befriended the redhead in your first year at Hogwarts — and it never meant anything good.

“You should make him jealous.”

“What?” You frowned, a confused expression painted on your face.

“Look, men are inherently jealous. Now, he may appear uninterested, but if he realizes he's losing you, he'll go for it.”

You were perplexed when you stared at her. “Where did you learn that?”

“From a magazine of my muggle neighbor.”

“And you’re sure it’s going to work?” You inquired, still dubious.

Bernice nodded confidently, which gave you some comfort. She appeared to know what she was talking about.

“So, how can I make him jealous?”

“Easy. You go out with someone else,” Bernice said. “His twin brother is single, right? Go out with him and show Fred how much fun you can have with someone else.”

“With George? Why does it have to be George?”

“Because it will make him ten times more jealous. Siblings always want what the other has.”

You couldn’t know if that statement was true, since you were an only child who never had to share anything.

“Look, Fred believes he has you in the palm of his hand; his ego towers higher than the astronomy tower. He needs to come back down to earth.”

You sunk into your seat. You were hesitant. How could you do something so wildly unethical, not to mention how it would hurt George in the process? Was your desire to have Fred return your affections really worth it?

“What if George rejects me?”

“He will not,” Bernice said, shaking her head. “He’s the nice twin.”

“Fred is nice too.”

Your friend rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

You sat in your bedroom, quietly staring at the wall. This morning's conversation with Bernice was still circling your head. You knew it was childish, but you also knew there was a chance it would work. Still, you were hesitant. You liked George and you considered him a good friend; he was nice and he didn’t deserve to be used and discarded. Furthermore, what if Fred didn’t want you after you broke his twin brother’s heart?

No. There was no chance you’d risk that.

You groaned and buried your face in your pillow, letting out a frustrated cry. You were truly helpless.

One of those muggle magazines Bernice mentioned might be useful right now.

You turned around and started looking intently at the ceiling, as if the solution you were looking for were, somehow, written there. Suddenly, a spark went off in your head.

“What if I tell George about the plan and I ask him to help me?”

That was a better idea than what Bernice first suggested. Fred would still believe you and George were together, and no one would be hurt.

Yeah, that was a brilliant plan. Now you just needed George to agree to it.

“I can always bribe him with chocolate frogs.”

You also had some galleons that he could invest in creations for their future store.

Finding George was more difficult than you expected, and that the castle was of gigantic dimensions did not help in your search either. He could be anywhere. Well, except for the library. That was a place you wouldn’t bother to search.

Frustrated, you trekked outside to the Quidditch pitch, where you finally spotted George and the rest of the team, who appeared to have just finished practicing.

“George! Where have you been?” You exclaimed as you dashed up to him.

George looked up, surprised. He wasn’t usually the twin you sought out. But before he could reply to your query, Fred joined you.

“Hey, Y/N. You look good today,” he said, his signature charm smile on his face.

You fought the flush that was coming up on your face and tried to keep focused on what you needed to get done. “Thank you,” you replied before turning your attention to George again. “Can I talk to you?”

George nodded but made no moves to exit the pitch.

“In private,” you specified.

As he nodded, understanding rushed over him. Then he turned to Fred. He didn't say anything; they just looked at each other for a few seconds like they were communicating telepathically — something that frightened you every time they did it. Fred rolled his eyes and walked away, muttering something under his breath.

“Well?” He inquired, intrigued, once you were alone.

“I need to ask you for a favor,” you said, sheepishly. He didn’t say anything so you continued. “I want to make Fred jealous.”

George frowned, confused. “Not sure how I can help you with that.”

You sighed, “I really like him, but he doesn’t address any of my advances. If he sees I’m interested in you, it would make him want me.”

“Who told you that?”

“A muggle magazine.”

George kept staring at you as if you'd grown two heads.

“Please, George. All you have to do is pretend you like me and that we’re dating.”

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with pretending to date someone.”

“It's just for a little while!” You begged. “Please, George. You're my only hope.”

After a few minutes of contemplation, George finally agreed. “Alright, fine. Let's give it a shot.”

You made a small enthusiastic leap. “Thank you, George. You’re the best.”

You shuffled anxiously outside the Great Hall the next morning, eyeing Fred from afar. George, who was standing next to you, cleared his throat.

“You ready for this?” he asked.

You took a deep breath before nodding. “Let's go.”

George extended his hand, and you entwined your fingers with his before walking into the Great Hall hand in hand, garnering some surprised looks from some of your classmates. You dashed over to the Gryffindor table where Fred was already seated.

“Morning, Fred,” you said joyfully as you sat down, still holding George's hand.

Fred cocked his brow. “What's going on with you two?” he asked suspiciously.

You shrugged. “Nothing much, we're just enjoying each other's company.” You gave George a sly smile and leaned over to rest your head on his shoulder.

George returned your smile. “I couldn't resist.”

Fred cast a skeptical glance between you two. “You guys are really dating now?”

You nodded, taking a sip of your pumpkin juice. “Yep, we decided to give it a try.”

Fred appeared to be uncomfortable, but he tried to mask it by stuffing some food into his mouth. You noticed how uneasy he looked and whispered into George's ear. “It’s working, he's definitely jealous.”

George chuckled softly and squeezed your hand under the table. As you finished your breakfast, you caught Bernice’s eye from the other side of the table, giving you a thumbs up.

You smiled back, grateful for your friend's encouragement. With Bernice’s idea of fake dating George, you finally had a chance to make Fred see you in a different light.

It just started and it was already working.

You and George were huddled up in one of the couches of the Gryffindor Common Room, lost in your own world.

Pretending to date George turned out to be pretty easy. He’d do all these nice things like wait for you in the mornings and walk you to breakfast and carry your books to class, even if you told him it wasn’t necessary. Also, he didn’t miss an opportunity to hold your hand or kiss your cheek.

You'd seen something light up in Fred's eyes whenever George touched you, like that first morning in the Great Hall. Despite this, he had done nothing about it. In fact, you haven’t had a conversation with the older twin since all this sham started.

You and George haven’t had a proper fake date either. And with Hogsmade weekend approaching, you decided it was the ideal time to put on a show of phony young love.

“Get a room!” Lee joked from one of the couches.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help but smile, “We’re in a room,” you said.

Angelina piped up. “Yeah but I don’t think we want to hear all that snogging!”

Truth to be told, you and George only have shared chaste, innocent kisses. At first you were a little apprehensive, and you could sense George was as well. You didn’t want to dive in too deep, but if your only kisses were on the cheeks, you knew it wouldn't be very convincing.

George couldn’t help but tease back. “Jealous?” he asked with a smirk. And although it was Angie who made the comment, he said this looking at his brother, expecting to get a reaction, but Fred only rolled his eyes and started a conversation with Lee. Even still, he would steal glances from time to time.

“We should go on a date this Saturday,” you suggested.

George hummed in response.

“We could go to Honeydukes and then get some butterbeer at The Three Broomsticks,” you added.

“That sounds great, love.”

Under a lovely blue sky, you and George wandered through the charming streets of Hogsmeade. You laughed as you passed the various shops, your eyes sparkling with delight.

The wonderful fragrance of candy filled the air as you walked towards Honeydukes.

You took George's hand in yours and led him inside, eager to indulge in some treats.

"Wow, look at all these sweets!" You exclaimed as you surveyed the colorful display cases. “Let's get some chocolate frogs and Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans.”

It was foolish of you to get so excited over candy, but you couldn’t help it, you had a sweet tooth.

“So what’s your favorite candy here?” George asked.

You grinned. “I'm a sucker for the peppermint toads.”

George laughed. “Typical. I'm more of a chocolate person myself.”

After filling up on treats, you took a leisurely stroll through the quaint town, admiring the intricate fairy lights and bobbing for apples at games stalls.

As you were exploring the stores and taking in the charming atmosphere, George spotted a flower shop and decided to buy you a rose. When he handed it to you, you flushed. “You're such a gentleman.”

“Only for you,” he said with a smile.

As dusk started to set in, you made your way over to The Three Broomsticks to warm up with some butterbeer. You found a cozy corner booth, your eyes locked onto each other. The candlelight flickered softly, casting shadows on your faces.

The quaint pub was bustling with students from Hogwarts and other wizards and witches from Hogsmeade.

“This is really nice,” George said, taking a sip from his butterbeer. “I haven't been here in ages.”

You smiled sweetly at him. “I'm glad you're enjoying it. I thought it would be nice to get away from the hustle and bustle of the school for a bit.”

George nodded in agreement. “It's nice to have a change of scenery, especially with good company.”

There was a brief moment of silence between the two of them before you spoke up. “I had an amazing day. Thank you, George,” you said sincerely.

“You’re welcome, love,” he responded, smiling.

You chatted for what seemed hours while sipping on the frothy drink. The atmosphere was cozy and warm, with the crackling of the fireplace in the background.

“I can't believe we're already in our final year,” you said wistfully.

“Time flies when you're having fun,” George remarked.

Despite the fact that you had been out for the majority of the day, you couldn't help but feel that your date had finished far too soon, but you were glad for such a great day. You couldn't recall ever feeling so at ease around someone, let alone a boy.

You were growing so used to this relationship that you forgot you weren’t actually dating him.

You walked into the Gryffindor Common Room with a wistful expression on your face. Bernice had been lounging in one of the armchairs by the fireplace, flipping through a magazine. As soon as she saw you, she jumped up excitedly.

“So, how was Hogsmeade? Did you and George have fun?” your friend asked eagerly, a hint of mischief glimmering in her own eyes; waiting for you to spill the beans.

You sank down onto the couch next to her and let out a sigh. “It was...nice,” you said, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

Bernice raised an eyebrow. “Nice? That's all you're going to give me? You'll have to do better than that if you want me to help you get Fred's attention.”

You looked away uncomfortably. “That's just it, though. I don't think I want Fred's attention anymore.”

Bernice's mouth dropped open in surprise. “What? Why not? You've been crushing on him forever!”

"I know, but...after spending time with George, I realized there might be something there," you admitted quietly.

“Oh no, Y/N. This is not what we planned. You were supposed to make Fred jealous, not fall for George.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. But George is just so wonderful, I can’t help how I feel.”

“Well, I guess we have to come up with a new plan then. Maybe we can find someone else for you to date and make Fred jealous that way.”

“I don’t know, Binnie,” you murmured. “I should never have dragged George into my mess. Maybe I should just be honest with him.”

“That’s a risky move, Y/N. What if he doesn’t feel the same way? Then things could get awkward between you two.”

“I know, but I think it’s worth the risk.”

Bernice placed a hand on your shoulder sympathetically “Alright. It’s your call,” she said. “I'm here for you no matter what you decide.”

“Thanks, Binnie,” you smiled. “I appreciate it.”

As you approached George, your heart rate increased. You rubbed your hands, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. You sat down on the bench near George, taking a deep breath before starting the conversation.

“George, I... I need to talk to you.”

“Of course, what’s up?” he responded kindly, a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“I don't know how to say this, but... I know we started pretending to date to make Fred jealous. But... sometime along the way, I began to see you differently. You're... smart, funny and kind-hearted. And I'm not sure when it happened but…” You looked up for a second to observe his reaction, “I think I like you. Like, I like, like you.”

George's eyes widened in surprise as he heard what you said. Silence filled the air as George sat there astonished, his thoughts jumbled as he tried to process everything that you had just told him. Finally, he took your hand in his own and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Y/N,” he said softly, “I like you, believe me, I do. But… I think you are confused.”

You peered into George's eyes, not understanding what he was saying. “What? I’m not confused; I know how I feel.” You sighed, feeling embarrassed and exposed. “I know it's sudden, George. And I understand if you don't feel the same way,” you added, looking down at your hands.

George took a moment to think before responding. “It's not that I don't have feelings for you, Y/N. It's just...I don't know, this whole fake dating thing was confusing enough as it is. And Fred… he’s my twin brother, he’s in the picture too,” he paused and exhaled deeply. “I need time to figure things out,”

You nodded understandingly. “I get it, George. Take all the time you need. I just wanted to be honest with you,” you said, standing up.

George stood up as well, giving you a small smile. “Thanks for telling me, Y/N. We'll talk more soon, okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed before walking away, feeling both relieved and nervous about where things might go from there.

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley x you #george weasley fic #george weasley one shot #harry potter imagine #fred and goerge weasley

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foolishlovers · 5 months

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MUTUAL PINING FIC RECS: Below you'll find a list of Good Omens fics in which Aziraphale and Crowley are pining for each other.

You can request more fic recs here.

you play with my feelings (right from the start) by PenroseSun (G, 3k)

There were three things of which Crowley was absolutely certain: 1. Aziraphale, being an angel, was required to be kind and loving towards all things, even when those things were flawed or sinful or fallen. 2. Notwithstanding that obligatory kindness, Aziraphale would never, and could never truly love a demon, in any meaningful sense. 3. Despite this, Crowley was desperately, hopelessly, in love with him.

For To Quench My Thirst by apliddell (G, 6k)

After moving to Sussex with Aziraphale, Crowley is trying so hard to be satisfied with friendship and the suddenly beautiful life he already has.

Slow by write_away (T, 9k)

It started like this: A boy with the ability to warp reality met an angel and a demon and he made assumptions. You might say it started like this: An angel and a demon found a marriage contract hung on the wall of the angel's bookshop. They didn't question it. It also could have started like this: Once upon a time, the angel told the demon he went too fast. The demon took it to heart. Aziraphale and Crowley find themselves somehow married. Crowley fears going too fast. Aziraphale forges ahead. Neither know how to ask questions of each other.

got a pretty face, pretty boyfriend too by KissMyAsthma, leukozyna (T, 9k)

Aziraphale and Crowley are next-door neighbours. They’ve been attracted to each other since they met. The only thing keeping them apart is a thin wall between their bedrooms and Atticus and Freddie, Aziraphale’s and Crowley’s respective life partners… or are they? A human AU glued together by misunderstandings and wet food.

speed limits (and how to break them) by darcylindbergh (E, 13k)

There is a trick people do with a mint candy and a bottle of cola which results in a small eruption, and something very like it, for much higher stakes than a laugh in a car park, is about to take place in Aziraphale’s back room. Or: what happens when you finally unscrew the cap on a six thousand years of repression, and drop in Valentine’s Day.

Something We Were Withholding Made Us Weak by triedunture (M, 17k)

"Yes, exactly. Retire." Aziraphale reaches for the last remaining tartlet brimming with summer berries. "Somewhere along the south coast, perhaps." Or: Crowley and Aziraphale learn to move in tandem.

32 Questions That Lead To Love by ffonippop (E, 32k)

”First formulated in 1997, [32] questions to fall in love is a study by psychologist Dr. Arthur Aron which took place at Stony Brook University, New York. The aim? Speeding up the creation of intimacy between two strangers.” The Cosmopolitan Okay, fine. Crowley was 32-Questions-That-Lead-To-Love-ing Aziraphale. Sue him. He had no expectations, all right? Just, an innocent curiosity.

Flowers From The Grave Of Our Friendship by WaitingToBeBroken (E, 50k)

Crowley is very good at temptation, not so good with what comes afterwards. Aziraphale knows demons don't love so he is happy to take anything Crowley would give him. Both of them are too blind to realize the thing they want is right in front of them.

Fledging by FeralTuxedo (M, 53k)

Cool Dad was at the school gate again. Clambering out of his ridiculous sports car like a great big spider, all black denim and designer sunglasses. What a prat. He made his way towards the entrance, followed by his equally lanky son. All the mums' eyes were on him. Which was fine. At least they weren't staring at Aziraphale for a change. Cool Dad high-fived his son goodbye, because of course he did, then sauntered back to his car. Making it look so bloody easy. Aziraphale Fell is much too young to be looking after eleven-year old Pepper. He barely has his life together as it is, with his minimum-wage job and a half-baked dream of trading rare books for a living. And as if adopting a recently bereaved pre-teen isn’t enough, there are some rather more adult problems to navigate: playground politics, the shadows of his own childhood, and the growing question of how Crowley, the only other dad at the school gate, feels about him. A human AU/kid fic.

Style and Substance by Cabernet_Woebegone (E, 89k)

“But y’know, if my boss finds out I’m helping you even a little, they’re gonna throw me out on my ass.” “Yes, I understand it is a bit of a conflict of interest for you… Is there something I can offer you in return? Something you would like?” Aziraphale questioned hopefully. You, Crowley thought loudly as he took a second sip. I want to know if you moan when you kiss the same way you do when you try something delicious. I want to know if your lips taste like Zinfandel. “Yes, actually.” Aziraphale is having difficulty running his restaurant, and it isn't helping that he believes the place across the street is trying to sabotage him. To his surprise, chef Crowley comes to him on friendly terms. Together they come up with an arrangement that could benefit them both.

On Espionage and Prophecy (or How to Accidentally, but Wholly, Fall in Love With a Soho Bookseller) by RockSaltAndRoll (E, 133k)

1941 is the London Blitz and the year that MI5 really comes into its own with the now infamous ‘double cross’ system. The service keep tabs on suspects, root out enemy agents and try to turn them into doubles. Anthony J Crowley is fucking great at this job. He can be sneaky, underhanded and damn ruthless but also charming and kind. It’s what makes him good at turning. Aziraphale is just a regular Soho bookseller who loves his shop and books and good food and wine when he’s approached by a woman claiming to be MI5, wanting to recruit him for espionage. The poor man is too trusting and gets the shock of his life when he’s approached by a charming but dangerous-looking man also claiming to be MI5. Crowley recruits Aziraphale to double cross a double crosser and Aziraphale takes to espionage like a duck to water. Danger, hijinks, and sex ensue.

Old Vines by sevdrag (E, 189k)

A.Z. Fell, one of the most respected names in wine and food blogging, has been sent on assignment with his assistant Warlock Dowling to spend six months in California Wine Country. Under direction (by his boss, Gabriel) to use this experience to double his blog followers and write a novel, Aziraphale is both excited and anxious about the opportunity. Anthony J. Crowley is the owner and viticulturalist of Ecdyses, a winery that unexpectedly fell into his lap eleven years ago when he hit rock bottom. He may be in debt, yeah, but he’s paying off his loans — and despite pressure from his lenders and their team of inspectors, Crowley has found a kind of contentment tending his little corner of terroir and producing extraordinary wine. Crowley’s old vines are the heart of his vineyard, and he’s never let anyone in. Crowley finds Aziraphale intriguing; Aziraphale finds Crowley enthralling. Turns out a famous wine expert and an experienced viticulturalist can still learn things from each other. The summer of 2019 unfolds.

#support is so appreciated <3 #just hoping someone might find a new favourite!!#i think i may have material for another 2-3 mutual pining posts ngl it's one of my favourite tropes #also i know i know i've recommended old vines a thousand times but it really is THAT fic for me. do yourself a favour and read it pls!!#good omens #good omens fic rec #go fic recs #good omens fanfic #good omens fic #aziracrow fanfic #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #good omens human au #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #foolish recs #go fic masterpost

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writerpeach · 11 months

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Never Safe For Work

Dreamcatcher Gahyeon x m!reader

word count: 14k

The long-awaited return to the Dreamcatcher Office series

---

Read on AFF

Read on AO3

Universally, it went without saying that nobody in their right mind liked Mondays, for obvious reasons. But Tuesdays? Those were the real fucker.

The beginning of the work week always started the same way. Monday mornings were nothing but meetings, meetings, and more meetings. So that meant Tuesdays were not just four days left to endure, but time spent dealing with the aftermath from those endless hours of time spent discussing problems, budgets, and other mundane matters—time that could have easily been spent working on more crucial responsibilities.

Each hour passed felt longer than the previous one. Every minute dragged on as if it would never end.

Early morning hours were the most troublesome part of the day to get through, weighed down by never-ending tasks daunting for an entire team, let alone one person. Not that the rest of the week’s schedule wouldn’t be any better, always filled, with the following day more hectic than the last one.

While the weekend seemed so out of reach, somehow you mustered up the energy to tackle your responsibilities, but even the simplest task felt difficult to do before your regularly scheduled trip to the vending machine and a refill of coffee. Equipped with a hot mug, alongside your second headache of the day, you sorted through dozens of emails about new projects from your bosses, other clients, and business partners. And just when you finished one task, another would be assigned to you, another plate to spin, another fire to put out.

Despite how early it was, you needed a break—caffeine wasn’t doing its job properly, so maybe you needed an extra dose, a shot of espresso from the fancy machine in the break room that you never touched for fear of breaking it. But before you could even get out of your chair, before you could stretch your arms, a loud knock at the door interrupted your countless thoughts.

Great.

Almost nothing good came from a knock at the door before noon. Usually, your superiors would call your office when they needed something, but when they needed to show up in person—that was when you were doomed. So, with dreadful anticipation as to which boss would further ruin your day, you waited for the door to open, half expecting flames to appear on the other side.

But when the door creaked open and the figure standing in the doorway did not sport a pair of devil horns, you let out an enormous sigh of relief that it was only your assistant, Gahyeon. It wasn’t that she didn’t cause problems of her own, yet at least she wasn’t here to chastise you about an impending deadline or shove a brand new project to your already massive pile of work.

"Good morning, boss,” Gahyeon said as she stood in the doorway with her arms crossed, her mouth twisted into a less than genuine smile.

“You look pretty busy.” Nothing she could have said would be more obvious other than calling water wet. With a heavy sigh, you glared at her and tried to keep your annoyance in check. Given the evident stack of documents on your desk, you couldn’t afford to waste any time today.

"You’re late, Gahyeon. Once again. It’s half past ten, and you were supposed to be here over an hour ago.”

Upon entering the office, Gahyeon shrugged without a care in the world, but at least had the courtesy to shut the door so you could reprimand her in private. “But I’m here now, aren’t I?”

That annoying smirk on her face made it even worse. You wouldn’t have been so annoyed with her if she hadn’t done this during one of the busiest weeks of the year. Nearly three months had gone by since you promoted Gahyeon to fulltime and made her your personal assistant. Essentially, it was the same job but with increased responsibilities and higher expectations, but you were beginning to regret it when she fell back on old habits.

“Well, I’ve done all the heavy lifting already since you couldn’t bother to show up when I actually needed you. There’s not much left to do right now. Go get some coffee or something.”

“But I don’t like coffee…” Gahyeon pouted, always finding an excuse to fight back against even the smallest command.

With the last of your worn patience razor-thin, you resisted the urge to snap at her while rolling your eyes practically out of your head. There was little you wanted to deal with right now, but if she was here, then you’d find some purpose for her. "Then go get something else to drink, Gahyeon. Just be back here within five minutes."

As Gahyeon left the room, you took a deep breath and rubbed your temple. Having such an unreliable assistant just added more stress, especially when she often had to be micromanaged at every moment. Your one hope would be that Gahyeon took her new position more seriously and became a valuable asset to the team, rather than a hindrance. The last thing you needed was someone to babysit.

Trying to put a dent in your many, many emails, Gahyeon returned with a bottle of fruit juice in hand, plopped down in a chair in front of your desk and took a sip, an unnerving smile etched on her smug features. She wiped her mouth, leaving a lipstick stain on the bottle as she placed it on your desk.

"You look like you could use a break, boss," she said in her usual cocky tone. Again—nothing had been more obvious.

“I could always use a break,” you replied, raising an eyebrow while you looked up from your monitor. “But that’s not a luxury we have. There’s a lot of work to be done, and not enough time to do it.”

Growing more frustrated, you looked back at your monitor, then back at Gahyeon, who hadn't moved aside from continuing to sip her fruit juice. You took a good look at her—with everything going on, her outfit hadn’t caught your attention until now. When Gahyeon was an intern, you would typically ignore it as long as her attire didn't deviate too far from the office dress code, but now that she held a place on your team, there was an expectation to dress more professional. However, every day she showed up she seemed to wear something that the higher-ups would consider wildly inappropriate.

“Gahyeon, what have I told you about your work attire?”

“What’s wrong with it?” Gahyeon looked down at her outfit, puzzled as if she wasn’t wearing anything out of the ordinary. Which, if it were up to you, would be fine—but even if you didn’t make the rules, it was your responsibility to make sure that everyone who worked underneath you followed them.

“Do I really need to answer that? A skull tie, ripped stockings, and those boots? This is a professional environment, Gahyeon,” you said, letting your frustrations all out. “And you’re expected to dress as such. You’re not that clueless intern anymore, you’ve moved up. You represent this company now, so when I ask tasks to be run and our clients show up and see you like that—”

“But I like the way it looks…I like being comfortable.”

Like always, Gahyeon missed the point, and you could feel the throbbing ache in your temple again.

“Gahyeon, do you think I like wearing these stuffy collared shirts? Or these boring, constricting ties? No, I hate them, but I deal with it.”

Before continuing, you let out a deep breath. “I don’t ask for much. Just that you show up on time and wear work-appropriate clothing. Yet you’ve failed to do both today. When I decided to hire you, it was because you promised me that you would take this position seriously, but if you won’t—then I can easily find somebody else who will.”

“Okay, okay. Calm down, boss. Tomorrow, I’ll wear one of your ugly little ties. And high heels. I promise.”

“Just be professional.”

“Aren’t I always? I’ll wear my best outfit. You won’t even recognize me.”

Gahyeon wasn't the same intern she was a year before, despite her sometimes acting like it. You had a feeling she would come around eventually, she just needed a little push in the right direction.

“So…is there anything I can help with, boss?” Gahyeon asked, even if it was a bit too little too late.

After a long pause, she leaned against your office desk, looking around at cluttered reports, financial documents, endless proposals, and worst of all—an entirely too empty coffee mug. Out of frustration, you laughed—because what didn't you need help with?

“Everything,” you said, slumping back in your chair. “I need to finish looking over these reports so I can have them sent to Minji. I’ve got weeks of expenses that need to be tallied up so Siyeon can reimburse me. There’s a video meeting with our new business partner in an hour and I haven’t even begun to prepare for it yet. And on top of that, every time I take a sip of coffee, my inbox keeps filling up. I just—”

Letting out a sigh of defeat, your voice sounded more and more strained. To make matters worse, Gahyeon hopped atop your desk, interrupting any chance to finish more work. She crossed her legs before reaching forward and placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently.

“Boss, you’re stressed. And your muscles are so tense. It sounds like you need a massage. Do you want me to give you one?”

“That’s not what I need, Gahyeon. I just need you to help me look over these reports.”

“But that’s so boring,” she whined, pouting those sultry lips in disappointment. Having little energy left to endure her presence, you could feel your headache coming back.

“That’s why it’s called work, we’re not at a theme park. You asked what I needed help with, so this is what I need help with. Maybe after we finish, then you can give me a massage.”

Gahyeon wasn't pleased with your response, as evidenced by the look in her eyes. Refusing to sit idly, she lifted herself up off your desk and slid onto your lap before you could say another word, swinging her legs over to one side, so the weight of her generous butt rested on your thigh. But she couldn’t help but fiddle with your tie, flashing a flirtatious glance in your direction.

“You smell good, boss. New cologne?” Gahyeon asked, leaning in much closer until her face became mere inches from yours, with her seductive lips dangerously close. It became impossible to avoid her gaze, and you were inclined to lift her petite frame anchored on your lap. However, it didn't really matter because fighting Gahyeon's charm was a hopeless battle.

“I don’t wear cologne. But you need to get off me, you’re being a distraction.”

Gahyeon didn’t care—rarely did she ever, with the only goal to get whatever she wanted. “Take it easy boss, you’ll pop a blood vessel. A little break won’t hurt, will it?”

“If I had time for a break, I would take one.” Whenever Gahyeon lingered around, you only grew more and more frustrated with each passing second.

“There’s always time for a break…” Gahyeon said, always refusing to make work a priority. “Maybe you should take a short one, boss? It’s not good for your health if you keep this up. Besides—isn’t this what you hired me for?”

Your brow furrowed in irritation, before finally letting out another sigh. “No, I hired you because you showed what a good worker can be. Which I’m starting to believe was just a mistake, and I should let you be an intern forever.”

Gahyeon chuckled, her demeanor unbothered. “But you like having me around. We both know you didn’t hire me just for my work skills…”

She wasn’t exactly wrong. When Gahyeon wasn’t being a thorn in your side, you enjoyed her company, and if you had to admit, it was nice to have a pretty face show up to your office first thing in the morning—when she actually showed up.

“Gahyeon, please get off me. Once I put a dent in this work then I’ll take a break. I promise.” But as expected, she didn’t budge, stubborn as ever, and kept playing with your tie.

“But I think you should take a break now…”

“Gahyeon—”

“I get it, work comes first. But so should my boss,” she smirked, taking advantage of your compromised position. You had no response.

“So you wouldn’t want me to give you a nice, sloppy blowjob under your desk? I shouldn’t get on my knees for you and wrap these pretty little lips around your thick, delicious cock?”

You swallowed hard. Gahyeon knew how to make you crumble, no matter how tough you tried to hide your weaknesses. She knew better than anyone what exact words to say and when to provoke you. If only she put as much effort into seducing you as she did in putting off her obligations.

But your lack of any protest was the closest thing to an answer as she loosened up your tie and positioned herself into a proper mount on your lap. “I wanna make you cum, boss.”

Her words sent an electrifying tingle up your spine. “I wanna make you cum in my mouth, so I can swallow it all. So you can watch me swallow your huge load. Come on, boss. I’m dying to suck your dick.”

When your assistant practically begged, it was hard not to cave in. Your heavy workload could wait, because you couldn’t avoid those tempting eyes any longer. And if anything—it would be the best way to silence that mouth.

“Then get on your fucking knees, slut.”

Gahyeon’s devilish lips couldn’t smile any wider. Quick to comply after you uttered her favorite word, a word she no longer pretended to protest against, she used those same lips to deliver a greedy, deliberate kiss, before wiping her lipstick from your mouth.

“Since when do you care about lipstick marks?”

“I don’t, boss. I’d just rather see my lipstick at the end of your cock.”

There it was again, that annoying sly grin as Gahyeon removed herself from your lap, and lowered to her knees. She then maneuvered into the space underneath your desk, nestled perfectly between your legs.

“Anything for you, boss.” Not one to hesitate, Gahyeon unzipped your pants with an intense desire to please you, eager for what waited underneath when she felt up your crotch. Faster than your next heartbeat, she yanked your slacks down, letting them drop to the floor in a heap, and your boxers fell to your ankles moments after.

Gahyeon might have been a lot of things: unmotivated, a complainer, habitually late, but if there was one thing she was an expert at, that would be taking your mind off work. So you watched while she grabbed your cock, and slapped it on her pretty face, all while maintaining that seductive smile that screamed I’ll do anything.

But it had all fallen into place far too easily. “Are you sure you deserve to suck my cock?”

Refraining from saying much more, Gahyeon frowned and answered with deft strokes as she pumped your cock with a tight grip.

“I’ll convince you, boss.”

Her eyes sparkled with determination, widening even more when she admired your shaft, before she teased it with her wet tongue and licked along your length.

If you had to admit one weakness, it would be Gahyeon’s lips; so pouty and full, kissably soft and always ready to go down on you at a moment’s notice. When they made contact on your swollen cockhead and planted several wet kisses, there would be no holding back, you had fully given into temptation.

But there would be no guilt about letting your assistant suck you off in your office for the umpteenth time, because as Gahyeon suggested—it was just part of the job.

So without interruption, you let Gahyeon do what she did best. She continued kissing your cockhead and created a path of tender kisses all the way down to your base that warmed your shaft with her hot breath as she did so. “You’re so hard, boss…”

Only Gahyeon could be blamed for that.

“Need to get this down my throat. I’m so hungry, I haven’t had breakfast yet,” Gahyeon murmured as she licked her lips, and gave your stiff cock a proper tongue bath, followed by bouts of kissing your cock that gave as much attention as she could. Ultimately, it was the look in her eyes that turned you on more so than the sloppy licks she gave your cock, but her unwavering eye contact and growing desperation while on her knees more than helped persuade you.

“Then stop teasing me, Gahyeon,” you said, shooting her a look that demanded she comply. Surprisingly, she did just that—after one more long lick up your length, her sexy lips parted, and swallowed up the engorged head of your cock. From that moment, you melted into your office chair when Gahyeon sucked your tip, and her head bobbed in a hypnotic rhythm while her delicate hands caressed your bare thighs.

“There you fucking go,,” you muttered, almost too loud for comfort as any tension in your body began to fade. Gahyeon wrapped those pretty lips around your cock and created a tight suction that instantly made you groan as she worked her magic. Using those perfect plump lips to suck on your swollen head, she only let go of your cock to flick against your leaking slit, then nudged down further to the base to take more of you in her warm mouth.

“Mmm, you’re so delicious, boss. I’ve been waiting for this all morning,” she moaned, as she slapped your cock against her wet tongue. You knew her intentions went deeper than just your personal wellbeing, but you never should have fought back against this—and if anything, Gahyeon’s mouth on your cock should be part of your morning routine.

That pretty mouth felt better the deeper it went, using all the tricks she had stored—spitting on your dick, hollowing her cheeks, and fondling your balls until your entire length ended up buried down her throat.

“Fuck, Gahyeon—just like that.” With a deep groan, your gaze fixated on Gahyeon’s bobbing head, as you savored the intense wetness of her mouth, the softness of her lips, and the wonderful warmth of her throat. The messier she got, the more tension from your body dissipated, and soon you felt lighter than a cloud, as both the stiffness in your neck and shoulders subsided.

Gahyeon, like she had candy in her mouth, sucked on each of your balls while she furiously stroked your cock. From there, her sloppy mouth swapped between your tender sack and your stiffened cock, giving equal attention until she doused each part of you with as much warm saliva as she could.

In that instant, when your throbbing length filled her throat, her greedy lips remained balls deep, with her cute nose flush against your stomach. Lost in her piercing gaze, Gahyeon lips stayed latched onto your shaft, as she took hungry, fulfilling strokes, and had never looked so needy.

But you, on the other hand, needed more than just a wet mouth to satisfy your craving. “Open that shirt up, slut. Need to see those pretty tits.”

Bobbing her head more frantically, Gahyeon kept her focus on swallowing your cock down her throat, but also loosened her tie up, and began unbuttoning her shirt. Multitasking was only a skill used when she needed it. Her nimble fingers practically ripped open her top, exposing her full, clothed breasts in the black bra underneath, with her skull tie nestled perfectly in between deep cleavage that stared back at you.

“Fuck, there’s nothing more I love than sucking your cock,” Gahyeon said, filling up her throat with every long stroke, using her talented mouth with more fervor than she ever did before.

“Doesn’t that feel good? I love hearing you moan, boss. My pretty lips must feel so good on your huge, throbbing cock, right?”

Another set of painfully obvious questions that you shouldn’t have bothered to answer. “Yeah, Gahyeon. You’re being such a good little cockslut. Fuck, your mouth feels so fucking—

It was hard to finish your sentence when you had your assistant slobbering on your dick, lips hard at work, desperate to prove her worth.

"Then why aren’t you fucking my throat?" Gahyeon asked, hands gripping your thighs to further add encouragement. You had to ask yourself the same question—but there was no need for an answer, especially after you immediately grabbed both sides of her head, with your fingers tangled up in her pretty locks.

Fortunately for Gahyeon, it wasn't in your nature to be gentle with her, and she would never want you to be. After staring at her mesmerizing eyes, you shoved her head down your length, thrusting into her mouth until you bottomed out her throat in one fluid stroke, forcing out a gag on the first try.

Holding her head down, you pumped vigorously into that tight mouth, and Gahyeon gagged once more as the bottom of your length became saturated with lipstick and saliva. Now that the last bits of control were taken away, Gahyeon let out sultry sounds of being unable to manage your length, regardless how many times she had been in this exact position.

“Sorry, boss. You’re just so big for my slutty little mouth.” Gahyeon got off on this part the most, and nothing made her happier than having her throat stuffed to the hilt, being choked with cock as you shoved it down until she couldn’t even breathe.

More than the thick flesh that gagged her, Gahyeon loved the helplessness that came with being throatfucked, the way her mouth filled with drool, and how it took mere seconds until her once pretty face became an absolute mess with just a handful of harsh thrusts. On your end, you loved ruining Gahyeon’s makeup, as well as making her luscious lips glisten with saliva, because when she walked out of your office with mascara and tears dripping down her cheeks—you knew she had no way to hide the events that had just transpired.

Yet, for all the many times you gave Gahyeon the rough throatfucking she so desperately begged for, she should have grown accustomed to the harsh way you used her pretty mouth. But you couldn’t say you didn’t love to see her struggle, audibly gag, and drool when your length continuously shoved down her throat.

After all, whenever Gahyeon was on her knees, she had little trouble submitting to you. In fact, she preferred this, to be treated like nothing but your own personal toy, to use whenever at your own convenience. Without any complaints, Gahyeon continued gagging on your cock, as you continued thrusting your hips into her face, urged by the look on her face.

“Such a good fucking slut, taking me so well. My pretty little assistant really likes being facefucked, don’t you? And gagging on your boss’s dick?” With her cock-filled throat gurgling on your shaft, slurping and leaking saliva down the corners of her lips as she tried to choke it down, Gahyeon couldn’t exactly give a response. But you could see it in those needy, lust-filled eyes, how much she took pleasure in her throat being fucked without mercy, without consideration for how well she could breathe.

Only once did you grant Gahyeon a brief respite that left her gasping for air. Unconcerned for anything but your taste, she latched her wet lips onto your balls, and suckled them with a greedy hunger you hadn’t seen before, tasting her own spilled saliva. “I really love choking on your dick, boss. You make me so wet when you force my head down, when you make my eyes water, when I can feel every last inch of this beautiful dick throbbing down my throat…”

From then, it only got rougher, even messier when Gahyeon sputtered out saliva against your shaft, gagging on your length over and over as she struggled to breathe properly. Regardless of how rough things got, she would always choose the hard flesh jammed down her throat over oxygen, and nothing could deter the lewd expressions she made, nor could it deter your vigorous skullfucking.

More and more you craved your addiction—the sounds of Gahyeon struggling, the tears in her pleading eyes, the streaks of mascara that beautifully ran down her face, and the harsh tugs of her hair you made when you hit the back of her throat. Equally, Gahyeon craved the way her lips were forced down at the bottom of your base, her mouth wide open and her jaw stretched out. Most of all, you were addicted to the intense feeling of ramming your cock down Gahyeon’s throat, because there wasn’t anything better than the messy sounds from a good throatfuck.

Gahyeon fulfilled her role well, even if she did little but stay on her knees and offer up her wet throat, dedicated to your pleasure.

"Fuck, this throat feels so damn good,” you groaned, as the endless echoing noises her messy little mouth made compelled you to be even rougher, causing the final traces of self-control collapsed. “You sound so good choking on this dick. My little slut likes being your boss’s personal fucktoy, don’t you?”

The way that Gahyeon looked up drove you wild as she answered with her eyes, not only just enduring, but savoring the merciless treatment of her throat, yet getting off more by your degrading words than any actions.

Just as you felt yourself going insane with bliss and drew closer and closer to that sweet nirvana—there came a knock at a door that interrupted your fun.

Shit.

Mild panic kicked in—you couldn’t think straight. You wouldn't have any cause for concern if Yoohyeon or Bora came through that door, they’d even take a seat to enjoy the show and spur you on. But you had to be ready for anyone else who wouldn’t turn a blind eye, regardless if the entire office floor knew you railed your assistant more often than a fresh cup of coffee brewed.

After you involuntarily released the tight grip you held on either side of Gahyeon’s head, you tried to collect yourself and ran through dozens of scenarios in your head in preparation for whatever possibility would materialize.

“Don’t fucking move, Gahyeon. Don’t make a fucking sound, just keep my cock warm in your throat, okay?”

Moving back beneath your desk as a quick sign of acknowledgment, Gahyeon tried her best to stay out of sight, and for the time being, kept your cock in her mouth obediently.

While your heart pounded as you wondered who could possibly be behind your office door, you made your best effort to tidy up your desk, wanting at least something to look presentable.

“Come in!” you said, after some serious hesitation, and hoped that you wouldn’t be caught with your pants down—quite literally. Moments later, the door to your office opened, and it came as no surprise who stood behind it, the lesser of two evils—Kim Minji.

“Good morning, boss.” Somehow, you found the courage to look straight ahead while resisting the impulse to look underneath your desk.

“Morning!” Minji replied back, sporting a bright smile. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to add to your pile. I come with good news only. Here are our monthly earnings reports. We’re up ten percent from last month, so your bonus at the end of the month will reflect that. Good work.”

You held your breath when Minji dropped a folder on your desk, and pretended everything was as normal as could be, like you weren’t naked from the waist down with your cock being warmed by Gahyeon’s pretty lips.

“Thank you, boss. Oh here, I have some reports that you need to look over and sign them.”

“Of course, I’ll have them back to you by the end of the day.” For all the stress that Minji brought, her smile alone came with a sense of relief, and she was much preferable to deal with than her scary counterpart, Siyeon.

“Wait, where is Gahyeon? I swear I saw her earlier, did she not show up today?” Minji asked, folding her arms against her chest.

If only Minji knew your assistant was nestled under your desk. Which of course meant Gahyeon couldn’t help herself. As if on cue, her tongue began to play with the underside of your shaft, and you gritted your teeth to control yourself, but you palmed the back of Gahyeon's head and dug your nails into her skull to prevent anything else.

“Oh, she’s here. She’s…around. I sent her on a couple errands, so she should be back soon.”

“Ah, okay. Well, whenever she comes back, send her my regards for a job well done. She’s an official part of the team now, so she shares the credit.”

“Sure thing, boss.” Minji nodded, turned around to head back to her office, then shut the door behind her. Once she had departed, you took a deep breath, and relaxed back in your chair, with your heart still racing.

“Jesus, Gahyeon. What did I say?” You glared at her underneath your desk, but she didn’t utter a single word. No sooner had you taken your next breath before she snatched your cock back inside her mouth and went back to work.

“Think you can finish me off by yourself? You want me to blow my load down your tummy?"

Gahyeon had never smiled so wide, nor had as much enthusiasm when she bobbed her head and played with your balls, trying to speed up your orgasm. “Yes, boss! Please let me swallow your cum, I’ll suck every drop out of you.”

Despite how much she enjoyed having her throat used, Gahyeon also took pride in her oral expertise. So, in the blink of an eye, her movements grew frantic, eager to wring out your load as promised, with every stroke of her mouth bringing you even further to ecstasy.

More than ready to blow your load, you couldn’t ignore the tightness in your core when Gahyeon’s warm, sloppy mouth devoured your cock up, deepthroating from tip to base, with a trail of saliva covering every inch as she slurped the life out of you.

“Don’t fucking stop, Gahyeon. I’m so close, keep sucking that dick until you make me explode,” you demanded, and she obliged as she sucked with a fervor never shown before, impatiently waiting for you to shoot down her throat.

Nearly there, your breathing grew heavy, faster with each stroke, and you couldn’t wait to release that deep reservoir of pent up lust Gahyeon had caused. As each pass drove you closer and closer to release, you couldn't stop staring at how her lips swallowed you whole while her eyes kept their focus on you, anticipating your climax.

Gahyeon didn’t hold back anything, finishing you off with one more long stroke from base to tip, as you gripped the back of her head tightly with both hands, pressed her face down your crotch, and let out a loud groan when you finally unloaded in her mouth. Like a tidal wave, your orgasm hit, her eyes widening more than they ever had when your thick cum quickly overflowed from the messy corners of her lips, the volume of your orgasm simply too much to handle.

You firmly held her head down, unwilling to let go, all while your dick continued to pulsate inside Gahyeon’s throat, sending more hot semen down, and you spilled everything you had with loud grunts and lust-filled groans. Exhausted and drained of every drop, every ounce of energy, you gasped and panted while releasing the harsh grip you held, feeling the weight of the world lifted. With a messy face and a satisfied smile, Gahyeon pulled away until your cock released from her lips, and opened her mouth wide to let you see the creamy pool of cum gathered up before she swallowed the sticky mess that coated her throat.

After licking her lips stained with saliva, Gahyeon cleaned up the remnants of arousal that she failed to contain, using her tongue to clean up your crotch so she could fill her stomach more. Only then did she place one more deep kiss on your cock that had yet to stop twitching, and slid her tongue into your sensitive slit, desperate to try to find a drop she hadn’t yet tasted.

“Your cum tastes so good, but I need more, boss, much more. Your delicious cum makes a very good breakfast.”

“Greedy little cumslut.” Gahyeon giggled in admission as she licked clean the head of your cock. Several deep breaths later, you leaned back in your chair and just stared at her, who kept some part of her body touching yours, lips kissing your inner thighs, delicate hands longing to keep your body warm.

You were far from done with her, but the workplace would no longer cut it, you needed a more open playground.

“There’s much more for you later, but you’ll have to earn it,” you said, earning a pout from Gahyeon’s thoroughly used lips, because being told to work for something—even your dick, made her disappointed. Taking some pause, she lifted herself up, stood upright, and took a seat back on your desk, eyes looking around at the stacks and mountains of paperwork that seemed impossible to know where to begin.

“Now that I’ve relieved some of that stress, what else can I help with, boss?” she asked, not even bothering to button up her shirt.

“Nothing, Gahyeon.”

“Nothing?” she repeated, tilting her head to one side. “But I thought you had a lot of work to finish…”

“Yeah, I do. Piles of it, as you can see. But since you got me so worked up, it’ll have to wait,” you said, shamelessly focusing on her uncovered cleavage that still had glistening saliva staining her chest.

“I’m going to take the rest of the day off, and so are you, just so I can rail you into next week—but not here. Because we both know you’ll be far too loud, so we’re going back to my place so I can fuck your brains out far away from this office, where nobody will be around to hear how loud you’ll scream for me.”

Even in her disheveled state, Gahyeon couldn’t have been more overjoyed. She’d take any excuse to leave the office. But convincing your superiors as to why you were leaving work with your assistant before noon would be the tricky part, though just this once, you could count on Gahyeon, because you knew she had a thousand different ways to get out of work. You'd leave that part all up to her.

✦ ✦

You couldn’t have driven fast enough to your place. Luckily, most traffic lights were in your favor, and those that weren’t, well—you were fortunate enough to not see red and blue in your rear view mirror. Not even three songs played through your playlist before you arrived, then it became a race to enter your house, and the door couldn’t open fast enough.

The thought of staying in a hotel did cross your mind, with its spacious beds that you wouldn’t be responsible for changing sheets, scalding hot showers, and beautiful balconies that were perfect for ramming your pretty assistant up against the cold glass while admiring the view. If you wanted, you could have made everything come full circle and took Gahyeon to the same hotel you took Bora to that very first night that snowballed your office relationships. For sure, that really would have made Gahyeon jealous and brought out an even bigger brat in her, but also most likely you’d get kicked out for noise complaints within five minutes.

Your place would suffice. After all, it was already well equipped with everything you needed, without worries of noise or any other concerns, although you planned on fucking Gahyeon hard enough that the entire neighborhood could hear her moans and screams.

When the door closed behind Gahyeon, there would be no more holding back, the green light to take her against any surface to do whatever you pleased with her. But she didn’t even bother to properly store her shoes when she slipped them off, yet neither did you, as you tossed your keys, wallet, and all your inhibitions.

“Bedroom? Living room?” she asked, but wouldn’t make it past the foyer before you pinned her against the front door with a hand wrapped around her throat. Gahyeon knew things wouldn’t be easy the moment she stepped foot in your place, but it didn’t stop her from feeling just a trace of nervousness when you tightened your grip, adding to her arousal.

She couldn’t hide her anticipation, nor her little lip quivers under your control, but at the same time—this was what she wanted, what she worked hard to provoke you, willing to fold and let you have your way with her.

“Here? You’re gonna fuck me hard against this door, daddy?” she asked, as though it were both a question and a suggestion, but it only made you clutch her throat harder when you pushed her more against the wood of the front door.

“Don’t call me that, Gahyeon.”

“But you like it when I call you that. And we’re not at the office…” Gahyeon was right on all counts, but after her little morning shenanigans, she would have to earn her daddy privileges back.

“You’re right. We’re not at the office anymore, but that doesn’t mean you still deserve to use that word. Because now you’re going to call me sir while I fuck you senseless until your legs give out.”

Releasing the grip on her throat, Gahyeon caught her breath, then gave a slight nod with a blatantly mocking salute. “Yes, sir.”

“That’s much better. Now arms up.”

Gahyeon stalled as she rolled her eyes and curled her lips into an even more blatant smirk. “But what if I don’t wanna?”

That was what you expected, of course. Now, in the comfort of your own space, the best part of bringing Gahyeon home was the freedom to do what you wanted with her. But it came at a cost, for her to fall into her old bratty ways, with her own freedom to challenge every order you gave with less repercussions than at the office..

“Arms up, slut,” you repeated, but predictable as always, Gahyeon didn’t move a muscle, nor did she make any attempts to listen. Fine then, you would play her little game—for now. While you stared at the whites of those gorgeous eyes, waiting to see who would blink first, you seized her cold, delicate wrists, and pinned them above her head with the harshest grip you could manage.

She pretended to fight back, squirming under your touch, and pretended like she couldn’t be controlled. But when you stared daggers into her big, round eyes, she folded like a deck of cards, thanks to your intimidating gaze.

“Keep those arms raised, Gahyeon. Don’t drop them until I say so.”

“Y-yes, sir,” she said after nodding in agreement, refusing to give up her faux defiance while you caressed and patted her cheek.

“Good girl.”

As her first test of obedience, you released the firm grip on her wrists that had developed bruises already, and observed while she kept her arms held high above her head. Searching for any signs of resistance, you couldn’t find any when you loosened up Gahyeon’s tie and slid it off her, almost tempted to use it to bind her hands together. Instead, you flung it aside and undid her top, allowing yourself access to her ample breasts once more.

Her chest didn’t stay covered for long, and after a long stare between her deep cleavage, you tugged her lacy bra down enough to release her wonderful full breasts, cupping them the moment they earned freedom.

Making sure Gahyeon still held her arms up, you squeezed her bare breasts, groping as much flesh could fill your hands. You teased her taut nipples, flicking your fingers against them as they stiffened up, which made a helpless Gahyeon moan against your touch.

“Look at these gorgeous fucking tits. They look so swollen and sensitive,” you said while fondling them to your heart's content, enjoying their softness, their pleasant weight, and how effortlessly they bounced as you toyed with them. Her tits were as immaculate as they were sensitive, softer as you remembered, perfectly shaped, and you could spend hours kneading them, playing with them, all while her eyes begging for your continued touch.

The more you squeezed Gahyeon’s large breasts, the needier her moans became, as your hands got lost in that milky flesh. She could feel her shoulders ache the longer things went, but knew better than to dare complain. That would be the least of her worries soon enough.

You tugged at her pretty nipples, pinched them, then flicked them more just to break the silence with her whines—but it would be the last modicum of pure pleasure you would grant Gahyeon. Without warning, you slapped one of her heavy breasts, and watched her flinch in surprise. You then slapped her other breast even harder, perfectly landing on her stiffened nipple that you pinched right after, making her yelp out while causing satisfying ripples of her sensitive flesh.

Unable to hide her reactions, Gahyeon cried out in both pain and pleasure while you continued smacking her pale tits, the harsh sound an addictive level of arousal for her—for you, another release of frustration, more encouragement to hear those cute whines, and most of all, more punishment.

Back and forth you went between her beautiful tits, and smacked one after another, right, then the left, then the opposite direction, even slapping them both at once, like a metronome of painful pleasure leaving an arousing soreness that made Gahyeon’s thighs clench.

"I like you much better when you're an obedient little whore,” you said, proud to have wiped that smirk from Gahyeon’s pretty face, and kept up your assault on her supple, tender breasts that began to turn a shade of red that contrasted with her creamy skin, turning even more sensitive than from the start. She fought hard not to moan, unsuccessful when you carried on the ruthless nature, each pass across her reddened chest a heavy reminder that you were the one with all the power.

“Fucking brat. You like these huge fucking tits being slapped?” Before she responded, you roughly kneaded her breasts, earning even louder whimpers when you played with her nipples, driving her crazy with stimulation.

“Y-yes, sir, I love it, I love my tits being slapped! Please, sir, please—make it hurt,” Gahyeon pleaded, and for once, you’d oblige her by smacking her tits with much more force than previously, only to watch them bounce and bounce, as if counting the times she disobeyed you. You knew she could take more, that the painful sting of her tits being slapped would only ruin her panties more. Which was exactly why following a few more smacks and tugs at her swollen nipples, you gave each sensitive, reddened breast one final slap before you pulled away.

Unsurprisingly, Gahyeon couldn’t help but be greedy and beg for just a little more. “Please, sir! Please keep slapping my tits, please, please…”

But you ignored her pleas entirely and took a step back, admiring the way Gahyeon stayed frozen in this helpless state. “No, Gahyeon. A greedy little slut like you doesn’t deserve anything.”

Next came the customary pouts, needy whines, and desperate pleas that you disregarded while guiding her away from the doorway, removing that pesky shirt and bra to leave her fully topless. Finally able to rest her tired arms, the first thing Gahyeon did was make her way over to you, squeezed a handful of your crotch, and let her eyes wander while a delightful smile overtook her sinful lips.

“Please, sir…” Normally, you’d punish an unpermitted action like that, but well—you figured Gahyeon had enough punishment for now. Plus, you knew that would be exactly what she wanted. So instead, you simply grabbed Gahyeon by the waist, and held her tight against the nearest wall as you dove into her neck.

“Ah, please!” Letting out little gasps while you licked, nibbled, and then sucked on her delicate neck, eager to leave a mark.

As you kept sucking a bruise into her neck, Gahyeon returned to your crotch, and rubbed you through your slacks until you hardened under her touch. You made quick work of her skirt and removed it from her tiny little waist, then watched the way it dropped down to her ankles, leaving her in just skimpy panties and torn stockings. Those tattered, unprofessional stockings which gave you an idea when you dropped to one knee.

You ran a finger over her thigh, scratching against the material to test its strength, and easily tore through the fragile fabric. Confirming your suspicions, you found the perfect spot and tugged at the sheer fabric right between the center until they ripped open.

Gahyeon looked down in shock, but you couldn’t even be bothered to meet her gaze. “Hey! I liked those stockings!”

You didn’t—they were tacky, cheap-looking, and most of all, inappropriate for the office. No better excuse than getting rid of them by ripping them off Gahyeon. “You earn a better paycheck now, you can buy another pair. One that’s more professional, like you promised. Besides, they were ripped already.”

“But they’re supposed to be—”

Ignoring her was, as always, the best course of action while you removed her now useless stockings and admired her bare, luscious legs in all their splendor. When you rose to your feet and pressed two fingers against her clothed cunt, Gahyeon no longer had any complaints to spare.

“Ah! Will you—will you fuck me now, sir?”

Not a damn thing would stop you from that. “Yes, Gahyeon. I’m going to use your tight body, every slutty little hole, until I’m satisfied, and I’ll make sure I ruin you.”

With your intentions laid out, Gahyeon couldn’t look more pleased, and there was no better motivation than your petite assistant waiting for you to ravage her body. Not wasting a second, Gahyeon unbuttoned your pants as you took off your shirt, adding both items to the discarded pile of clothes underneath. For a brief moment, you admired each other’s half-naked bodies, until you grabbed her waist to pull her close enough so that she could feel your bulge against her toned stomach.

“I can feel how hard you are. I did this to you, didn’t I sir?” Gahyeon asked, as she reached down to massage your bulge, tracing every inch while your throbbing erection strained against the fabric.

“You’re right, Gahyeon. Your slutty little body caused this. And you know what I plan on doing about it right?”

“This cock is going inside me, isn’t it, sir? Until I can’t walk?”

“Until you can’t walk.”

Without saying anything more, Gahyeon began her ascent up the stairs that led to the bedroom, but only made it a few steps, before you grabbed her voluptuous hips and bent her over the stairwell railing. Little could compare from such a vantage point with your curvy assistant in your favorite position, yet you wasted no time peeling off her skimpy little thong to expose her plump buttcheeks and the prettiest set of pink pussy lips.

“Impatient, sir?” she asked, and instinctively spread her legs, granting easier access to whichever part of her body you would decide to partake in first. Making that decision would be more difficult than anything you had done at work, for sure.

“That’s your fault, Gahyeon. Now you’re going to share some of the responsibility,” you replied, pondering over your choices carefully. Her tight, spankable ass begged for attention, and that little asshole would be a wonderful place to start, but the wet flesh of her gorgeous cunt couldn’t be ignored, beckoning as it dripped with arousal. Either would provide an ideal home for your aching shaft.

Until a decision could be made, you removed your boxers, and gave yourself some relief, stroking several times as your attention grew divided between Gahyeon’s juicy ass and the slick pair of lips that waited for you.

“Where do you want this cock, slut?" you asked, unable to make a decision on your own and rested your shaft between her shapely cheeks. Surrounded by supple flesh that sandwiched your thick erection, you slid in between and throbbed while you awaited her answer.

“Wherever you want, sir,” Gahyeon responded, an honest, yet unhelpful response that did little to steer your answer in the right direction. “It really doesn’t matter, as long as you pound me like a whore and empty these big juicy balls inside me.”

Back at square one, it would be up to you to choose your own fate. Inevitably, you’d use both that tight sculpted ass and her drenched, succulent pussy, but without any lube in arm’s reach, the choice became obvious which would be the winner of your seed. You would save the best for last.

“Fine, Gahyeon. Let’s start with this pretty little cunt.”

With your cock poised above Gahyeon’s ass, she couldn’t have been more ready when she arched her back and leaned firmly on the railing, looking back for a moment to entice you with her eyes. As you lined yourself up with her warm opening, your tip nudged her plump pussy lips, and you felt her walls tremble in anticipation. You were all out of patience, so after you grabbed her wide hips and slid inside her with ease, you bottomed her out with your entire length in one fluid motion.

“Oh god,” Gahyeon moaned out in surprise, while her pussy tightened around your shaft the moment she felt your thick shaft slide into her slippery warmth. “So fucking big.”

There was no pause, no hesitation when you plunged your hard cock inside the intense warmth of Gahyeon’s tight little pussy. The soft flesh wrapped around you, already dripping wet when it squeezed your length, and your shaft felt so damn good inside that tight hole that your hips picked up speed right away, stretching out her velvety walls. With every thrust you felt her walls quiver, compelled to grip her body tighter, and used her body as an outlet, entirely out of frustration for how goddamn tight she was.

“Goddamn, Gahyeon, you’re so fucking wet,” you hissed, out of breath at the hot flesh that craved your throbbing cock as you pumped into her heat, your entire shaft covered in her slick juices. “So tight, such a tight fucking slut, god—this tight pussy feels too good.”

Already, you were going insane, even by the first set of thrusts, Gahyeon felt so hot around you, her delicious cunt squeezing so harshly, that you couldn't help but give in to lust, freeing the restraints that remained. Almost on autopilot, you pounded into her heat unabated, pistoning your hips that met her supple cheeks, and rippled with every thrust as the smack of flesh on flesh filled the small foyer.

“Oh my god, just like that. Fuck me like that, please sir, fuck me like a toy!” she begged, not that being gentle with her would ever be an option, not when you could stretch her in ways unimaginable.

“Your tight little cunt loves my cock, doesn’t it? Look at you creaming all over me like a needy fucking whore. You like being used, don’t you? You like being fucked this rough by your boss?” you growled, as Gahyeon desperately moaned for more.

Fueled by the intense clench of her cunt that persuaded you to keep the rough pace, she held the railing while you kept railing her, and made every type of satisfied moan imaginable. Those delicious cheeks bounced and bounced when your body clapped against them, and they became a soundtrack of delirious bliss, one that you could listen to forever.

“Sir, yes! Oh my god, you’re so deep in my little pussy, please, please, sir—fuck me harder! Fuck, oh fuck!”

You continued to mercilessly slam into Gahyeon’s wet cunt as she repeatedly added the word sir to the end of her moans, and fought to keep up with the tempo you set as she became louder with each hard set of thrusts.

Beginning to pant heavily, Gahyeon squirmed underneath your body and desperately tried to anchor herself to the stairwell. Her beautiful pale skin glistened with sweat as you kept pounding away into her slippery warm depths, and your movements became more and more erratic, borderline out of control.

And she endured it all so well, so fucking wet you swore you would slip out of her at any moment, but you kept hammering out thrusts, with your end goal to absolutely destroy her cunt. Because with Gahyeon, there was no such thing as being too rough, no holding back, and it was a given to fuck her without a morsel of mercy that undoubtedly, even your neighbors across the street could hear the screams she made while your bodies crashed together.

If it were anything less, Gahyeon would have complained without end.

Leaning closer, with your hands still squeezing her insanely wide hips, you buried your face into the crook of her hot sweaty neck, took a long lick, and bit down harshly, yearning for the rich taste of Gahyeon.

“After I cum in you, that huge ass is next. I’ve been waiting to fill your holes, ever since you were on your knees under my desk. I could have pounded your ass at work, but I wanted to do it in the comfort of my own bed so I wouldn’t have to worry about staining the carpet. It’s not easy to explain to the custodial staff that my assistant can’t keep her fucking legs closed.”

For once, maybe since the first time you met her—Gahyeon became speechless. Her attention narrowed on how you were slamming your hips against her and rearranging her guts. “When you report to work tomorrow, you’re going to have to carry around one of those spare cushions from the maintenance closet from me ravaging your perfect ass.”

Every slew of vulgarity that left your mouth made Gahyeon’s hips buck almost as much as the rough thrusts that battered her sweaty little body. You kept yourself buried in her tight cunt, consumed with desire from the sensations of your hard cock that slid between her drenched lips, pounding into her with thrusts so hard she almost collapsed.

Overpowered by exhaustion, Gahyeon released her grip on the stairwell, and you took advantage by seizing both her arms one at a time, and held them behind her back, linking them with yours. She wasn’t going anywhere as her lips uttered the most needy cries of pleasure when you pulled her upright towards you, the warmth of her cunt intoxicating, sending you into a frenzy of bliss. Gahyeon was completely yours, and you were free to use and dominate her hot body as much as you desired until you had your fill.

Utilizing your remaining strength, you followed down a final path of merciless thrusts while keeping her curves close to you at all times, maintaining the urge to fuck every last little bit of brat out of her.

Her words became a jumbled mess of incoherence, and the more you plunged into that smothering wet heat, the greater the urge became to spill your seed inside Gahyeon, unwilling to fight back against the tightness in your balls that demanded to be drained.

And while Gahyeon didn’t deserve to cum—you were more than content to keep this a one-sided ride of pleasure, but had to ensure that she became more than a ruined, blithering, fucked out mess who couldn’t remember whose assistant she was. You wouldn’t be satisfied until her legs turned to jelly, hell-bent on this maddening pace as her body began to tremble, counting down to the last moments of release that you both chased.

Because there would never be anything better than watching Gahyeon fall apart at the seams.

"Sir, please, I’m so close. Please, n-need, need to—” Gahyeon didn’t even have to vocalize her desires when the walls of her soaked cunt tightened to a new level, but you always enjoyed that begging, and wouldn’t hesitate to finish what you had started. So after letting go of her arms, she collapsed to the stairs, clinging onto the wooden steps with your cock still pounding away.

“Hurry up and cum then,” you said, indulging your desires to reclaim her delicious hips once more, clutching them tightly.

Gahyeon couldn’t exactly do much else under your control, so close to obtaining what she craved since you shoved your cock inside her. She seemed almost reluctant, but the tighter you held her and the quicker you pumped, the more the walls of her cunt pulsated violently—until she shattered like glass. The pressure boiled up inside far too much, making her writhe uncontrollably, juices pouring down your dick that painted the bottom stairs.

“Shit, oh fuck, oh fuck—” Gahyeon gasped out when she hit her peak, and let out a torrential outpour of shrieks, her walls continuously suffocating your cock. The only thing better would be seeing Gahyeon’s tits bouncing wildly in the mirror, as well as the look of pure bliss etched on her gorgeous face when she came.

Never had her pussy felt so wet or so tight, those harsh clenches like she was prematurely attempting to extract the cum from your aching balls, desperate to be filled with your seed to the brim.

“You must be close too, sir. Cum inside me, please, please cum inside me, fill me, sir…”

“Don’t you fucking worry, Gahyeon. Your slutty little pussy feels way too good for me not to empty my load into you. That’s what you wanted from the beginning, right? Your boss pumping all this hot cum into your warm little cunt?”

“Yes, yes! Please, sir—fill your little brat, fill me up and use me like a cumdump. Need to feel your big throbbing cock emptying into me, please.”

Savoring the way that tight little hole trembled for your load would be the last thing you did before burying your length inside one last time, and unloaded deep into Gahyeon. All those hours of pent up annoyance disappeared when you spilled your hot seed into her insides. Her wet, hungry pussy clenched for more, milking out spurt after spurt, groan after groan, as your cock twitched in violent pulsations, and filled her up to the brim, overflowing with every drop.

You chased that last bit of bliss, pumping with as many strokes as your body had left, and fucked your hot semen into Gahyeon deep, deep as it would go—all the way into her womb.

When that last spurt finally left your balls, you slumped against her, panting heavily, but with no desire to unsheathe from her warmth. Especially not when Gahyeon continued to quiver in ecstasy, catching her breath while you both recovered.

“Th-thank you, sir,” Gahyeon whispered, her voice weak and trembling, just like her legs underneath her that became just as useless as any words. Your breathing only became deeper the longer you stayed inside Gahyeon, and eventually you pulled out from her swollen lips, watching a slow drip of thick, pearlescent cum that had just been swallowed up leak down her glistening thighs, meeting the rest of her arousal on the steps.

“Gahyeon, fuck—”

“D-don’t worry, sir,” she answered, almost reading your mind while your fresh cum continued to trickle down her battered cunt. “Never been better…”

After a tilt of her head sideways, you kissed her lips while still pressing yourself against her body, feeling her breath in your mouth to validate her condition for yourself. “That’s my good assistant.”

Even though her legs no longer felt like her legs, and her breathing remained unsteady, you helped Gahyeon up to her feet, and moved her so her back rested against the railing.

“So, boss…”

Her chest still hypnotically heaved, and she held onto each side of the railing for support. “H-how come you never fuck me this hard in the office?”

“Because if I fucked you this hard, we’d both get fired. We’ve gotten caught enough times as is.”

“Yeah, well—” she paused, and avoided the subject, grabbing you by the arm with a weak grip. “You promised you’d fuck me in the ass, boss. Now, come on, I can still walk. Barely.”

Whenever Gahyeon looked up at you like that, flushed cheeks, disheveled hair, and a magic smile, now you were the one powerless. If she didn’t need a breather, then neither did you. So, leading the way, Gahyeon sluggishly climbed up the stairs to the bedroom, swaying her hips, with her round ass such a beautiful target that you couldn’t help but smack.

✦ ✦

After the pounding she took, Gahyeon didn’t exactly run up the bedroom stairs. However, her leisurely pace meant you could admire every aspect of her delicious body, and watch the way your cum still dripped down her thighs with every step.

Her appetite for dick hadn’t been tamed, and if there was anything better than Gahyeon on her knees—it was Gahyeon lying on your bed naked. Running fingers through her hair, her head bobbed with familiarity between your spread legs, her bare feet dangling in the air, with a mouth full of cock.

But while you loved the proper oral session Gahyeon gave as you relaxed into your pillows, and her hot mouth swallowing your length whole, that wasn’t her purpose here. That belonged to something waiting on your nightstand.

You raised Gahyeon’s head off your cock with a simple motion, which caused her lips to pout, but instead of complaining, she crawled over your lap and grabbed something from said nightstand.

“This must be for me,” Gahyeon said, attempting to act coy and innocent as she shook up a bottle of lube, its contents already half-empty. She flicked the bottle open with a pop, and turned her back towards you, positioning herself on the edge of your lap. Gahyeon gave you a worthy show when she lubed herself up, inserting one digit, then another, fingering her ass as she spread the cold liquid around her tightest hole, letting out cute little moans the deeper she went.

“Can’t wait to feel your cock instead of my fingers,” she said, turning to face you, and drizzled lube down your shaft, eyes beaming with anticipation. “Can’t wait to feel all of it filling me up.”

For good measure, she poured some down your balls, just to see the way they glistened when she rubbed it in, but kept going, her oiled up hands massaging your stiff cock.

“Hope you’re ready for that little asshole to be stretched, Gahyeon.”

“I am. I can’t wait anymore, sir, please,” she pleaded, guiding your cock, and groaned when she sandwiched your girth between her asscheeks. Letting her impatience linger, you remained silent while Gahyeon’s massive ass rubbed your cock, but grabbed the bottle of lube from her, and coated her pale cheeks until her entire backside became oiled up.

“See? Doesn’t that feel good? It’ll feel so much better when it’s inside me…”

You couldn’t agree more, but that only meant Gahyeon would wait longer, because you needed one more moment to savor how the oiled flesh of her plump ass squeezed your cock, one more moment to admire that magnificent ass. Grabbing a handful, you smacked it hard, an imaginary green light appearing in her eyes.

“Yeah? You’re going to ream my ass finally?” Gahyeon asked with a breath of relief.

“Yes, Gahyeon. There’s no way I’m not going to shove my cock up this perfect ass.”

Those words made her grin from ear to ear, earning what she wished for, a reward for patience. "I’ve needed my little hole stretched so wide, sir, please—”

“You don’t have to keep calling me sir,” you said, and her eyes twinkled upon earning her privileges back.

“Please, daddy—”

“Stop begging, Gahyeon. I'm not only going to stretch you out, I plan on destroying your tight ass until you become a pathetic, whimpering mess. And even if you pleaded with me to stop fucking your brains out, I won’t, because remember—you wanted this.”

Gahyeon couldn’t help but curl her distinctive lips into a blush-inducing smile. Despite the fact that you just laid out the blueprints to give her the anal hammering she so richly deserved, you felt no obligation to move a muscle. After all, you shouldn’t be the only one doing all the work, should you?

“If you want this dick so bad, then come bounce that fat ass on it.”

“Yes, daddy!” she replied, somehow still so energetic while she lifted her hips high and grabbed your cock, carefully lining it up against her back opening, that juicy ass eagerly waiting to be filled. When it came to anal, Gahyeon was nothing but enthusiastic, and preferred it almost as much as you did, and who could blame her when she had an ass like that.

So naturally, Gahyeon wasted little time, taking a deep breath before lowering herself down, until your thick cockhead disappeared inside her impossibly tight asshole. That first orgasmic plunge was the very definition of heaven, a slow burn of bliss upon entering her back entrance that always took your breath away.

“Oh god, daddy,” she gasped, placing both hands on your thighs for leverage. Sharing the sentiment, you gritted your teeth when you felt such an overwhelming tightness that surrounded your shaft, and could hardly process it all, eyes focused on the way Gahyeon’s luscious ass rose back up, nearly leaving herself empty before she sank deeper. There was nothing like watching her ass swallow up your cock.

Every little twitch, every shudder that ran through your body urged her to take you deeper, because for your assistant, it wasn’t much trouble to fit more of you inside. At this point, Gahyeon was a seasoned veteran in taking a cock up her ass, relaxing every muscle, while she took more into her hungry lithe body.

“Shit, Gahyeon, that ass is fucking tight,” you said, now your turn to be blatantly obvious as Gahyeon worked more cock inside that warm little hole, with only one goal in mind—every inch balls deep.

That goal wouldn’t take long to accomplish when she arched her back, taking your cock into her small frame like it was nothing, and spread her ass cheeks to accept more of you. “Good girl, you take that cock like such a good girl, stretch that little asshole out.”

With every word of praise, she clenched hard, an extra bonus to that magnificent view in front, Gahyeon’s perfect, round ass taking more of your girth, begging for your whole length.

“Ah fuck, daddy—oh my god, you’re so big. You feel so good, daddy, I need more, fuck, fuck—”

Nothing compared to the tightness of Gahyeon; that divine cunt could squeeze a load out of you in seconds, but her warm, heavenly asshole, almost painfully tight—that’s where the real fun started.

Greedy as could be, Gahyeon bounced her thick ass on your dick like she had something to prove, that vice-like grip already driving you to the point of insanity. Nearly burying your entire length in one motion, she pumped those wide hips like they had a mind of their own, and the pressure on your cock intensified while her tight little hole became stretched to the limit.

“Fuck, I love how good this feels. Need daddy to gape me, open me up more. Please, daddy, fill me more…”

She pleaded with every word, and your throbbing shaft fought against the constricting walls of her asshole, but for either of you, it was never enough—you needed to be as deep inside her as possible. At the tail end of one of her endless bounces, you reached up to grab her oiled ass and pulled her body back as you plunged the full length of your shaft deep inside her asshole in one continuous stroke.

“Oh shit!” Gahyeon cried out, those tight walls grasping your cock with somehow more force after feeling your full length buried inside her. She rolled those magical hips to match your thrusts, that ass eager to take every last inch, and she tried her absolute best to accommodate your size.

“Does my little slut like bouncing that fat ass on my dick?” you asked, returning the reins back to Gahyeon, who took the initiative and slammed her cheeks down on your thick, rigid cock, every bounce devouring you balls deep.

“Yes, daddy! Oh god, it’s so amazing. You know I ride dick better when it’s in my ass.” Gahyeon demonstrated by using your cock to ride with more fervor, that plump ass engulfing your stiff erection as her hips moved in powerful circles, drawing you deeper under her euphoric spell.

All your focus stayed on Gahyeon’s body, how sweat collected on her back, and the hypnotic way her round wet cheeks rippled as she fucked herself on your shaft without interruption. As her ass choked your cock, you did nothing but lay back in the sheets and let her handle everything, the cadence of her careless bounces mirroring the bed that creaked in protest.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, so perfect—god, that tight little asshole feels incredible. Look how well you take me, keep going,” you said, demanding in your tone, and now that Gahyeon had been properly opened up, she had an obligation to take your whole length into her hot little asshole as she rode you like crazy, accelerating her hips, utterly consumed by lust. Even when the bounces of her ass became relentless, it didn’t dampen the unimaginable bliss; if anything, it planted the seeds of desire further.

“My body is yours, daddy. Use it, use me as you like,” Gahyeon said, looking back with her lips curled wider than ever. Words like that made your swelling erection throb like crazy, the pleasure of your shaft buried in her suffocating ass almost too much to handle.

Seizing control of Gahyeon’s tight frame, she lifted her bare feet and placed them on your thighs as you took hold of her hips, not wanting to waste any time as you remained lodged within that perfect plump ass.

“You feel that hard cock throbbing inside you? That’s what’s gonna destroy this amazing ass. I’ll make sure my pretty slut can’t walk for a whole fucking week.”

Gahyeon wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less, nor would she if you granted her any mercy while hammering your dick into her asshole, making every thrust that you delivered count. Firmly in charge of her body, you pounded away at that tight muscular ring, using your cock to gape Gahyeon’s little hole until it no longer struggled to fit your length, but she craved more, much more, and you reciprocated her desires.

“Yes, daddy, yes! Fuck, that cock stretches me so well, use me all you want,” she whimpered, the strength in her voice fading from all the begging. Just like in the office, Gahyeon understood her duties in the bedroom, knowing how to be an outlet for your lust, and how to be a proper fucktoy. There would never be any doubts about how aggressive you would be with her, so after sliding your hands under her sweaty thighs, you pushed her legs up into a V shape, locked your fingers around her neck, then lifted her small frame into the air, giving your all into every unforgiving thrust.

“Oh fuck—fuck, fuck, holy shit—” Gahyeon cried out as you fully put her into the full nelson position and hammered her ass relentlessly like she was a fleshlight. As you used her incredible ass in the manner that she loved, taking absolute control, nothing could match the absolute bliss that filled your body, and you were lucky to pound something so perfect.

If only you could see the way her eyes rolled back in her head while you rammed her ass without mercy—but hearing her boisterous cries of pleasure would have to do. In an instant, your hips released all their energy stored up for the last several moments, and you drilled Gahyeon’s asshole with so much vigor that her moans turned into loud, frantic screams—one of your favorite sounds from her lips.

“Oh god, don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop, ruin my little asshole, oh fuck!” Gahyeon managed to utter out before her words became little more than a slur of curses, unraveling underneath your unrelenting onslaught as the intense pleasure in your cock turned into an addiction, one that you would fuel by treating her body just like a toy, giving her the anal pounding she so richly deserved.

Despite how forceful your thrusts were, nothing would stop Gahyeon from begging for more, and you could drill her ass indefinitely. But as much as you craved to keep her suspended in that position, the creeping urge for release began to take over, so involuntarily you would oblige it, savoring how helpless Gahyeon remained while you kept her asshole filled to the hilt.

When your shaft finally slipped from her ass, you beamed with pride at how gaped you made her asshole, and Gahyeon fell to her side, able to catch her breath. But that respite wouldn’t last long, since she couldn’t stand not having your cock inside in some way, and slurped on your Gahyeon-flavored tip once more.

“God, you’re an insatiable little slut, aren’t you? You like tasting your ass?”

“Mhmm,” Gahyeon hummed, and planted a big wet kiss on your tip before she shoved your cock back inside her warm mouth, down to the base in one stroke. She indulged her hunger, sucking you off while tasting herself on your cock, her throat aching to drain everything from you.

You weren’t finished with her yet, left empty by every second that went by without the suffocating grip of her ass. “You want me to keep pounding this tight little asshole?”

Gahyeon hesitated for a moment, too involved with slobbering on your cock before withdrawing her pouty lips. “Want you to cum again. Wanna feel you in my ass again, my little hole hasn’t been stretched enough.”

“Such a slut for this dick, aren’t you?” you asked, while Gahyeon nodded in agreement, shifting to the center of your messy bed sheets, her legs spread wide as she rubbed her cunt, unsatisfied with how much time she had spent empty. Her impatience grew, but you did little but watch, indulging yourself in her divine physique, focused on every movement she made while touching herself.

“Come on, daddy. Shove that big cock back inside my ass.”

You rubbed her thighs, and planted gentle kisses on their pillowy softness while spreading more lube inside her, using it as an excuse to tease her further. “Needy fucking brat.”

“And your needy little brat needs another pounding…”

In one movement, you lifted Gahyeon’s creamy legs into the air, and rested her ankles on your shoulders. No doubt you wouldn’t have much left in the reserves, but just to see the frustration on her face, you stalled while you stroked yourself, teasing her warm little hole with your swollen cockhead.

"Daddy, pleeease—please fuck me," she pleaded, with a drone of whines, your cock nudging against the inviting warmth of her ass. But you still hesitated—not for Gahyeon’s sake, but for yours, and needed a moment to prepare—to prepare for that insane tightness again. With one hand lining up your shaft, the other stroked her beautiful legs, until you were ready to fill her back up again.

You waited for one more whiny plea, one more ‘daddy’ while keeping track of the desperation in her eyes, then impaled your entire shaft into that tiny, unyielding hole. Her back arched right off the bed upon re-entry, and you swore the second time felt like an even tighter squeeze, fitting perfectly inside her. “Shit, Gahyeon—”

That tight hole tempted you into an early climax, but you fought back against those urges, and one stroke at a time, pumped into Gahyeon, groaning at that familiar tightness.

“Daddy, why aren’t you pounding me?” Her lips pouted in her usual manner, but you ignored her and focused on setting the pace, allowing only the head of your cock to disappear inside her asshole as she desperately squeezed you.

“Let me feel it all, daddy. Split me open.”

Regardless of the look on her face, you wouldn’t give in that easily. “Be a good girl and rub your clit for me. Nice and slow.”

You didn't take your eyes off Gahyeon as she obeyed, using her fingers to rub slow, lazy circles against her sensitive swollen clit, and bit her lip at the added stimulation. Her cute whimpers guided your hips and urged you to sink deeper inside her, your strokes quickening as you filled more hard flesh inside that tight hole. Every expression her cute face made became a contortion of lust, and you couldn’t keep yourself from bottoming her out once more, returning back to your animalistic desires.

“Daddy, just like this, you’re so deep, need more…”

Holding back would no longer be an option when the urgency in Gahyeon’s eyes mirrored your own, and you didn’t hesitate to keep your length buried inside her ass, not even giving a chance for her to adjust to your size, pumping against the harsh grip around your cock.

Snatching whatever pleasure she could while Gahyeon kept playing with her clit, you rammed her little asshole without any cares or limits, thrusting with your hips in an erratic rhythm, more and more uncontrolled with every stroke.

“Oh god, daddy, that feels so good. Stretch me with that thick cock, pound my asshole, fuck me hard!” The noises from her lips became borderline unintelligible as your thrusts increased tenfold, hard enough to make her big breasts bounce, and made her fingernails dig into the sheets she squirmed underneath. Her constant moans and whimpers spurred you on as you refused to let your cock stay outside longer than necessary, and held her legs together, hugging them tightly as you began to lose all sense of self-control.

“Fuck, this tight asshole makes my cock feel so fucking good, Gahyeon. Gonna pound you so hard, gonna fuck you like a little slut deserves,” you said as your shaft moved in frenzied, harsh strokes, hitting the right angle, not neglecting a single sweet spot.

Not letting up your pace, you let those luscious legs fall from perched on top of your shoulders, then spread them wide as they could go, giving yourself a better view of your cock spearing her asshole.

At this point, you weren’t so much as fucking Gahyeon anymore, but using her body as just a cocksleeve, a toy, a container for your uncontrollable lust. Through all that lust, you were so lost in the tightness of her ass that any words that exited her mouth sounded miles away, but still heard the faint murmur of pleas. You played with handfuls of her delicious bouncy tits, fingertips trailing up to her collarbone, and then you wrapped a hand around her throat, squeezed with just enough pressure.

“Harder, choke me harder, daddy. Choke your little slut.”

If there were any remnants of control left, Gahyeon relinquished it all when you squeezed her neck harder, and those large eyes spoke more than words ever could. Her asshole tightened more than you could fathom, just like your hand around her throat, and you had no qualms about how rough you were fucking Gahyeon, nor the red marks that would be left displayed on her bare flesh for everyone in the office to see in the morning.

Not that your coworkers didn’t already know how rough you pounded Gahyeon in the various rooms and spaces around the workplace—if only everywhere else had as much soundproofing as your office did.

But nothing would deter you from pounding Gahyeon’s wrecked asshole, when the constant uncontained lust in her eyes began to boil over, long past the point of no return. The pressure built up in her body faster than expected as she frantically worked two fingers deep inside her cunt, and without warning—Gahyeon sprayed your abdomen with a sudden influx of liquid, an orgasm so intense, so overwhelming, that it left her body shaking, desperate for more.

“There you fucking go, Gahyeon. Good girl, cum for me one more time, can you do that?”

Gahyeon could only nod.

“Fuck!” she cried out, and did just that without hesitation, letting out another deluge of squirt from her greedy cunt that coated your lower body in her slick arousal. Her head fell back onto the mattress, quivering thighs spread wide, while you prepared to take your own climax.

“Good little slut.”

“D-daddy, I want your cum too—want it so bad,” Gahyeon said, with pleading eyes, and soon enough she would get it, every last little drop. You doubled down on your pace, and plunged your length into her asshole for as long as you could, savoring the last clenches while pumping into her until your climax was too strong to resist.

All you could withstand were a few more thrusts, so after pulling out of her ass, you spilled hot cum all over her tight stomach, and covered her supple tits with the remainder of your milky load as Gahyeon groaned from below with each thick spurt that fell on her bare, sweaty body.

Equally exhausted, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from Gahyeon’s perfect body used as your canvas, staring at her glazed breasts that heaved hypnotically, and her cute, cum-covered tummy that became the perfect target for your load. Lusting for more, she stroked your sensitive cock, almost disappointed when you were milked dry, but kept pumping, desperate to extract one more leftover drop.

“Gahyeon—”

“Yes, daddy?”

You couldn’t find the words you wanted to say, but continued to stare over Gahyeon's body, panting hard while you took in every tiny detail, every droplet of sweat on her pretty, pale skin.

“Wanna go again?” Gahyeon asked, and while you didn’t exactly have much gas left in the tank—you couldn't find a good reason to say no.

"Needy brat."

"I'm your needy brat. Come on, daddy. I know you wanna go again. Press my tits against the glass, get them all wet and soapy for you. You’re still so hard—I know you’d love a nice soapy titfuck,” she said, massaging your balls, teasing them with her fingers like she was trying to get them to fill back up.

Just the thought ensured your erection wouldn’t falter, and well, you couldn’t ever refuse an offer like that. With a grin, you hoisted Gahyeon off the mattress to her feet, legs unsteadily underneath her.

She still had your load painted on her body drenched in sweat when she stood upright, but wore it proudly, just like the grin on her features. “I’ll go get the water running.”

Neither of you would spend that much time getting clean, because you knew the moment you stepped inside the hot shower, Gahyeon’s hands would be all over your body, doing way more than soaping you up. But you were used to that.

Nothing could really ever quench Gahyeon’s bottomless libido, anyway.

#dreamcatcher smut #gahyeon smut #kpop smut #male reader #reader insert #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #dreamcatcher #gahyeon

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luvrsbian · 1 year

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𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄

A/N: she's finally here!!! this was initially supposed to be a one shot but has kinda turned into a draft up of a pretty plotless, sweet, fluffy mini series. it follows canon for the most part minus eddies death ofc but because im bad with canon lore and science shit, its not heavily mentioned (some minor canon lore was changed but it's not super important.) this is a fem!reader, no use of y/n, set in 1992, 4k words, and i've kept reader pretty vague for inclusivity minus some background lore. this series is not 18+ (yet) but my page is, so please do not follow if you are a minor. thank you sweet baby mona @enam3l for beta-reading for me (ily)

MASTERLIST ✿ PART TWO

Eddie Munson liked his life. He liked his friends, even if a lot of them have now dispersed across the continental United States for school, jobs, general life (minus Robin who has somehow managed to make her way to Australia doing God knows what.) He liked his home, a house on the edge of town – slightly bigger than the old trailer – which he still shared with his uncle. He liked his style and hobbies and taste in music and movies that haven’t really changed much in the last 5 years since his final senior year.

He really liked his job.

Which felt odd for him to admit to himself.  It wasn’t anything like what he thought he would be doing. A younger Eddie Munson would imagine himself traveling city to city, adored by fans, living creatively and free spirited. 

But a middle school janitorial gig kept him young. One could argue 26 wasn't even that old, however, compared to his friends (who he'd already been older than) with their careers, relationships and growing families, he felt like a lonely old man. So, yeah, the awkward, funny, and extremely honest pre-teens made him feel young. 

Initially he thought the job would be lonely. It’s a small town with even smaller schools. Besides him, there was only one other night janitor that he alternated weekend cleans with and only really ran into during day-to-night shift changes. Ron was nice enough, older than Wayne, with a far higher patience for children. Unsurprisingly, behaviours from high school died hard and the teachers and administrative staff all kept to their own little cliques. Resulting in Eddie keeping to himself, rarely speaking outside of his custodian duties or the occasional faculty meeting.

He didn’t even think he’d interact with the students aside from cleaning the odd vomit or getting stuck balls out of the gymnasium rafters. He unintentionally found himself yet again the outcasted mother goose to a small hoard of pre-teen metal heads when their unofficial leader, Matty Sherman, caught site of the various posters Ed keeps hung up on his office (custodial closet) door. The seventh grader quickly forcing himself under Eddies wings and refusing to budge. Matty was a good kid. Reminded Eddie a lot of himself at that age. He was loud, abrasive, and way too confident for such a gangly frame in ill-fitting clothes. Matty had hair though which 13-year-old Eddie couldn’t relate to.

There was also Ms. Virginia Wagner. The eccentric, nurse who has been working at Hawkins Middle since Eddie was attending. Maybe even before that, he wasn’t quite sure and whenever he asked anything close to finding out her age, she quickly shut him down. She was sweet. She was funny. She was also a mean old hag sometimes, but God did Eddie love that about her. If he was just 20 - or more realistically 40 - years older and wasn’t almost certain she swings the other way, he’d shoot his shot. 

The Summer season was extremely uneventful for Eddie. Due to the kids being out of school, his hours were cut in more than half with only the yearly repairs and deep cleaning needing to be done. He went into work about 3 days a week, spending the extra free time to do some manual labour gigs here and there around town. When he wasn’t working, he was hidden away at home watching movies, listening to music, trying to plan out ongoing and future campaigns for Hellfire meetings that have begun to be fewer and far between now that everyone has dispersed. On some rare occasions when he didn’t feel like a complete shell of a person and was able to leave the house to socialize outside of life obligations, he met up with the few friends that remained in the Hawkins area (which at this point in time was really only Steve Harrington and Gareth Emerson.)

It was now the Monday of the week before students would return back to these fluorescent lit halls. That meant all other faculty were now gracing the school to prepare for the year ahead. Organizing and prepping and finalizing lesson plans and class rosters. 

Eddie had a slight pep in his step as he walked through the halls, scuffed up sneakers squeaking on the shiny, extra polished tiles. He whistled a silent tune that clashed with the jingles of his keys that he swung around his middle finger. Getting to the janitors closet to put on his navy coverall and put his hair into a low bun. He zips up the stiff material, covering the self-altered muscle tank top that had the logo for some local band down in Indianapolis he saw a few years back before things went to shit. A cracked and stained mirror hanging up over his work sink being used to make sure his hair looked casually messy in the bun. With a final once over, he hooks his keys to the belt loop of his coveralls and preps for the day's work. A glance at his wristwatch, the one that has somehow survived hell and back just like him, reads 7:58. Just 4 hours and 2 minutes until lunch. 

He couldn’t wait.

Eddie used those 4 hours and 2 minutes to check each stall in all bathrooms were fully stocked with toilet paper and the likes, clean the actual toilets themselves, and make sure the water was running properly in every sink. Once that was taken care of, he began on his biggest task of the week of dragging desks and chairs out of the back storage building to be put into classrooms. Sheryl from the administrative team having left the small packet of papers indicating how many seats each room would need for the coming year. 

He could move the chairs in stacks at a time but could only really stack two - maybe three if he was careful - desks on his hand truck before it became a safety problem. Once moved into the main building, he had to wipe them down, tighten any loose screws that could make them wobble, and make sure they were still in usable condition. Eddie had completed almost 3 of the 32 classrooms before lunch finally rolled around. 

He grabbed his lunch sack from the custodial closet and whistled on his merry way to the nurse's office. He’s been eating lunch with Virginia for as long as he can remember. Of course, there was those 5 years of High School and then the year of recovery following the events of his second senior year, and the summer breaks of course, but besides all those he’s been eating with her for a good 7 years. 

This ritual beginning in his 6th grade, the first year he moved in with Wayne, all sad eyed and past aside due to events outside of his control. Kids he had grown up with suddenly not wanting anything to do with him. He wouldn’t really make any friends again until 7th grade, and his first band of misfits was created, Corroded Coffin. 6th Grade was the worst year of his life until 1986 and now it’s about tied. 

Sadly, in middle school who you ate a meal with or gave the time of day too was so integral into maintaining the hierarchal balance of the ecosystem. It was bullshit. With everything that happened that lead to his father going to jail and him burdening his uncle, the kids of Hawkins middle school decided Eddie wasn’t worth risking their own reputations. He doesn’t remember exactly how it happened, his brain kicking the memory out at some point to make room for more important stuff like D&D lore. But he does remember he went from eating lunch in the bathroom to eating it in Nurse Wagner’s office. 

Even after being integrated back into the Middle school social circle, he couldn’t just leave her to eat lunch by herself. She needed him with his alternative music education and retelling of the fantasy books he’d been reading lately and his strong headedness that could keep up with her dry and sarcastic quips many interpreted as rudeness. Although Eddie would still refuse to admit it, in actuality he probably needed her more than she needed him.

He doesn’t knock, just moseys his tall frame into the nurse's office, wide dimpled smile on his lips as he hears rummaging coming from the actual office area that was blocked off by a wall. He looks at the two plastic-y beds covered in paper sheets, inhaling that antiseptic smell that can only seem to be found in medical settings. No fluorescent lights were on, only natural light being let it from the two big windows. 

There are curtains on them now which surprises him. Floral pinks and yellows with lace on the edge that really fit the grandma vibes Virginia has but refused to acknowledge. The windows all have blinds, but curtains were deemed a non-necessary commodity by the school board budgeting team, meaning if you wanted curtains, you’re gonna have to fork money out of pocket for them. Eddie had asked Virginia about it once, commenting about how it would help spruce up the place. Make it look a little less sterile. She told him to go to hell, that she’s a nurse not rich. Any out-of-pocket money she spent on work only going towards things that actually matter, like the allergen friendly laundry detergent and the nicer, name brand candy for the candy bowl.

Putting his lunch on the side table of the first bed, he lays down in a relaxed position. Hands behind his head, legs crossed, eyes closed, he lets out a relaxed sigh.

“Virginia, dear, I really love what you’ve done with the place,” he calls out to her, hearing the close of the filing cabinet and footsteps soon following, “feels all homey now, dontcha think.”

The footsteps stop.

“I'm glad you like them. You feelin’ comfy there?”

That was most definitely not Virginia Wagners voice.

Eddie jolts up, eyes wide and cheeks red. He’s not one to get embarrassed easily but since recent events he’s been a bit more reserved in how comfortable he gets around strangers. And you were most definitely a stranger. A pretty stranger. A very pretty stranger in a teddy bear patterned scrub top and an oversized cardigan with embroidered sunflowers. You’re a disorienting mess of patterns and colors but you’re also, like, really pretty and Eddie isn’t sure how to go about this.

“You’re not Virginia,” is all he can get his voice to come out with.

“I’m not Virginia.” You give a chuckle. A positive response, Eddie thinks.

“Where’s Virginia?”

Eddie is now standing away from the bed and closer to the door, ready to run from the situation if needed (something he’s learned to embrace in the last few years.) You give him a friendly smile, hands in your cardigan pockets, the sleeves bunched up. You look cozy. 

“Florida. She’ll be in the Caribbean by the end of the month,” you supply. He can tell your fingers are fidgeting in your pockets. His hands are fidgeting at his waist, pinching at the material of his coveralls. 

“Why?”

You shrug your shoulders, “Retirement.”

“Oh,” Eddie sighs, eyes breaking contact with yours for the first time since standing, shifting to look at your white - almost pristine - sneakers on the tile floor her spent all summer mopping and waxing and removing scuff marks from. “That sucks.”

You snort. Teeth biting your bottom lip to stop from laughing at him further during this awkwardly endearing meeting. Your own eyes looking him over now that he isn’t completely focused on you. He’s cute. His cheeks stained your favourite shade of pink once he realized you weren’t the now retired nurse he had been so fond of. Hands covered in jewlery. His inability to stay still so natural it makes you think he doesn’t even realize he’s been shifting his body weight back and forth from his toes to his heels this whole time. Tall, lean, maybe with some extra fluff hidden under the baggy attire. He’s got some shadow of hair on his cheeks. And if you weren’t a civil person and he wasn’t a stranger, you’d be begging to kiss at the column of his throat.

Your gaze moves to look around the waiting part of the office to avoid thinking even more things about this guy. A brown paper bag chicken scratched with the words ‘ED LUNCH’ catches your eye. Before you have a chance to speak yourself, he starts his interrogation again.

“Who are you?”

Your attention cuts back to him quickly. With a smile that shows all your teeth and a hand leaving your pocket, held out for him to shake, you give your full name.

He takes it with his own reserved smile. His hands and rings are warm, but they still tingle your skin from the unfamiliarity of the metal. You enjoy it you think. Before he can introduce himself, you beat him to the punch.

“You must be Edward, right?”

He grimaces, “Just Eddie,” your handshake falls. His hand back to his hip and your hand back into your pocket, “Just Eddie is fine. More than fine, actually. Preferred, really.”

Another chuckle from you. Eddie knows he’s funny when he wants to be but if it’s this easy to make you laugh, he doesn’t ever want to stop.

“Well, just Eddie,” you smirk at his eye roll, “you can join me for lunch if you’d like. I feel like my presence may have ruined your initial plans,” you let out a huff of a laugh and gesture to the lunch sack by the window. He grimaces again at your wording and shakes his head.

“It didn’t ruin any plans just was shocking ‘sall,” his hand moves from his hip to rub at his slightly scruffy chin, pretty brown eyes back on yours, “but um, yeah. Yes, I’d love- like to join you for lunch.”

You smile. He smiles back.

Eddie has sat in this chair, in this office, and eaten his lunch for years. Today it feels awkward and unfamiliar. 

It might have something to do with you sitting where Virginia used to sit. Same chair, same desk, same office, but completely different. Virginia didn’t decorate her space, leaving it functional and impersonal, if people wanted to know about her life they could ask her. She wasn’t going to flaunt it. 

You were very different. An orange, gaudy looking vase filled with fake flowers. A matching candy bowl with various sugary, little treats. A picture frame of you and what he could only assume was your family based on the similar features shared between each person. A decorated Coke can with the top cut off and trimmed with glued on lace and covered in holographic stickers of vibrant cartoon animals, sparse enough to still see the iconic red drink logo, was now holding an assortment of colorful gel pens. 

Even the chair wasn’t safe from your interior decorating, a purple knitted blanket folded over the top of the rolling seat. The seat itself now adorning a red, white, and black cushion of an ugly faced bulldog with a spiked color and cap with the letter G, the words ‘GEORGIA BULLDOGS’ splayed above him. A sports team he assumed. 

The conversation hadn’t started back up since the introduction in the sick room. Both of you taking your respective seats in the office area, opening your lunch bags and digging in. 

Eddie being a creature of habit brought his usual bag of pretzels, a can of Pepsi, and a sandwich made of whatever he could find in the kitchen. Today it was two slices of whole wheat, mayo, lettuce, the last piece of deli ham, and shredded cheese. 

Your own lunch seemed much more put together. For starters, you had an actual lunchbox, a bulky and vibrant plastic thing with Snoopy sleeping on his dog house on the front. Inside, there was your own ziploc bag of green grapes, a can of Coke, and a sandwich cut into triangles. White bread, crunchy peanut butter, and grape jelly. A Little Debbies Swiss Rolls pack sitting on the corner of your desk for dessert.

He’s mid chew on the final bite of his sandwich, half his Pepsi left, his pretzels being the first thing devoured, when you speak up. Your own sandwich having on triangle section left, grapes gone, and Coke untouched.

“Have you always lived in Hawkins?”

You’re wiping your mouth with a folded paper towel, curious eyes focused on him. You’re very good at that, he’s realized. Eye contact. Focusing on your center of attention. Eddie has never been good at it, having to remind himself to look at the person talking to him. It’s polite, Wayne would say, shows people you’re listening and interested in what they have to say. Eddie gets so worked up in remembering to seem focused, he loses it and doesn’t hear what’s being said. He hasn’t had that problem with you so far. He thinks he could look at and listen to you all day if you let him.

“Born and bred,” he swallowed his bite and shrugs his shoulders, rubbing his hands together to get the crumbs off, “you’re not though, are you. Feel like I’d remember you,” he raises an eyebrow. Feeling a little more confident in himself, especially with the obvious signs of you not being a local, and gives a playful smirk.

“You got me,” you hold your hands up in mock surrender, moving your arms back to rest your elbows on the edge of the desk, “I’m from Georgia.”

Eddie nods, the seat cushion making sense now. It’s your home team for… sports. A sport. Probably football. Eddie mentally pats himself on the back for guessing it was a sports team. Good on him for knowing sports. (Eddie doesn’t know sports.)

“So,” Eddie lulls, small talk never being his forte. Much more interested in getting into the nitty gritty of conversation when interested in someone but he doesn’t know you yet. He needs to find something to relate with you on and he can’t do that with tidbits he may know from growing up in town like he could other people his age or older here. “You’re like a southern chick,” it was your turn to grimace. 

“You’re really bad at this,” you snort and shake your head, finishing up the last of your own sandwich. Tidying up your desk, throwing away the ziploc bag and sandwich wrapping and paper towels. Opening the coke can and moving the swiss rolls pack to in front of you, looking back to Eddie. With a tilt of your head and saccharine grin you ask, “Splitsies?”

He nods at the opportunity to get a sweet little treat before addressing your initial comment, “Small talk requires talking and I just don’t really do that anymore with people who don’t already know me or just have a preconceived idea of who I am,” he shrugs his shoulders again, voice softer, slight regret in being too real. Eyes watching your fingers open the package, folding another paper towel (which he has now realized are coming from a roll kept in the lowest drawer of your desk), and setting one of the processed roll cakes on the indented paper before placing it in front of Eddie’s seated and slouched body. “Thank you,” He looks back up to you and you’re already looking at him.

“Virginia told me a lot about you,” you smirk, lifting your own cake to take a bite. Your eyes not leaving his except for split a second to give an appreciative glance and hum to the cream filled ‘pastry.’

“We’ve been corresponding for months,” you snicker at your own use of the word, making you feel like some sort of 18th century countess or captain, rather than a young nurse taking over the position of an older nurse. 

He looks panicked at this reveal. Which is cute considering he had a bit of white cream on his upper lip. Although he looked so pretty when his brow furrowed, it was clear he was frightened so you were quick to reassure him.

“All good things, of course. I think she’s just worried about you. It’s cute, really, just really cute.” Another kind smile on your lips and your hand holding out the paper towel - his now eaten roll was sat on - as hint for him to clean his mouth off.

Eddie knew Virgina wasn’t one to gossip but the prospect of a rare new person in town he’s actually interested in, being privy to all his shit-uations without him telling them himself, scared him. But Virginia did love to meddle and that may be worse. She was a big supporter of Eddie needing friends his own age. 

Letting out a sigh of relief that his tragic history had yet to be exposed, Eddie returned your smile with his own half one. You reach into your desk again, pulling out a letter instead of paper towels this time. ‘Edward’ scrawled in a familiar, loopy handwriting with blue ink on the white envelope caught his eyes. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion and intrigue. 

You hold it out for him to take like it was something precious, “This is for you.” From Virginia, is unspoken but recognized between the both of you. Who else would it have been from. Eddie flushing as he realized, Virginia never told him about you. Virginia never even told Eddie she’d be leaving. They didn’t speak much, or really at all, during the summer unless they happened to run into each other outside of these brick walls. 

Callused finger pads grazed your palm when he took the letter from you, he kept his eyes focused on examining the letter. A sad smile on his lips appreciating the loops of the E and W and curves of the D’s. Realistically he knew Virginia probably wasn’t gonna be gone from Hawkins forever, she had roots here. A son. That’s son kid or maybe kids now, he wasn’t sure, hadn’t checked in on Rick since he got out of jail in ‘88. But it still hurt that she was gone, without a word, and was happy enough to talk to her replacement about him but not to him about her. You.

“I’m gonna read this later,” he mumbles and puts the offending but appreciated letter in his deep pocket. A quick glance at his watch read it’s been about an hour since making his way into the nurses office, lunch was over. He threw his trash out in the bin by your desk and gave you a friendly smile, standing from the seat in front of your desk.

“Maybe we could do this again sometime,” eyes shifting around the office again, not really taking things in, just needing to not get trapped back into your gaze. “Ya know, with my lunches free now and everything,” he humorlessly chuckles.

“Eddie,” you spoke softer than you had before, a more sympathetic smile on your lips, “I’d really like that.”

He looks at you now. You have really shiny eyes. What a weird observation, Eddie thinks, but it’s true. With a quick wave of his hand before retreating them back into his pocket, fingers playing with the paper edges of Virginias letter. He begins his trek out the door. 

“Hey, next time though,” he stumbles in a spin to walk backwards while speaking, “We’ll speak more about you than about me. Feel’s like you know too much about me,” he huffs with a smug smile before spinning back to look forward. “See ya, Peach.”

Your sweet laughter follows him out into the hall. You call out, “See ya, Eddie,” to his retreating back, watching the door long after he’s left. 

“Peach,” you snort and shake your head, teeth tugging on your bottom lip to stop from smiling too wide.

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#ʚ by gwen ɞ #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #tcu #school janitor eddie x school nurse reader

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matchadobo · 6 months

Text

KIDD; babysitter

wc: 3462 summary: reuniting with the kid you're babysitting after nine years certainly went the way you didn't expect it to warning/s: nsfw, fem reader, p0rnp0rnp0rn, cute little kidd, actual s3x happens proceed with caution, faces1tting, p in v, no grooming don't worry they're all wholesome when kids during adults is spicy tho 😳

you used to babysit this little redhead when you were sixteen and he was nine. he always had this prominent scowl that contorted the serenity on his face. he had the palest skin you've ever seen, well at least back then, you haven't encountered anyone with the degree higher than that of his. he had the richest red in his hair, thick curls hanging at the sides of his chubby cheeks.

he wasn't a rowdy, loud kid. he was a mean fucking kid, but somehow, you two can get along in the long run. maybe it's because you weren't one to discipline him and just let him do his shit, only cleaning up if his parents would be close to come home.

but what pisses you off the most though is how he always comes home being the dirtiest rugrat on the neighborhood. what's weird about it is he doesn't even roll on the muddy roads nor play with other children, them children always says he was very mean to them. he always had a wrench in one hand a contraption he made in the other, it's one of the times where he voluntarily comes to you to show off the said contraption. you'd have the responsibility to clean him up in the bath afterward, begrudgingly.

it lasted only when you were eighteen, school was getting hectic and he was gradually growing up to not need a sitter. you two developed a bizarre relationship of unanimous silence and stay-in-your-business shit to have gone for two years. but what you've noticed in your second year is that he had grown distant; he avoided your eyes, he gets shy when you ask him about his 'contraption', he doesn't meet you as a rugrat no more, and he actually does the chores you mostly do. maybe he really is growing up, not really needing a sitter.

you buried those memories at the back of your head, nine years have passed and now you're on a stable business on your flower shop. the reason this surfaced from your memory is when you saw the owner of the new tattoo parlor that had been built just a week ago. he had the same rich shade of red for his curly, voluminous locks and somewhat rivaled the skin color of the kid you were babysitting. you normally don't pay him any mind, business is too busy. that is until, he visited your shop, seemingly buying something for his girlfriend.

"there any chance i could get somethin' more than a bouquet?" he raised a brow, leaning by the counter to get to your level while you count his change.

"sure, anything else you want, sir?" you smiled, returning his change. you could see the shift in the glint in his eyes when your fingers touched.

"a chance to take you out and give these to you." he gestured for the bouquet of tulips he was clutching on those monstrous biceps. you took a moment to process his statement, blushing intensely afterwards.

"i-i uh... am not really available for those." you avoided his gaze, he towered over you but he feels like he was getting closer. his metallic scent growing pungent.

he took a moment to study you, before sighing. "of course, i'm just across, yeah? stay adorable, mo ghràdh (my love)." he winked, leaving with the bouquet.

you sat down on your chair, knees failing from what just happened. an incredibly hot UNIT just asked you out?! and you were too dumb to refuse?! you had no choice but to forget about it, you weren't really one to date.

few weeks had passed and you seem to have forget about it, you try your best to not glance at the parlor each time the owner is out. you don't know why but something deep in you wants to avoid and refuse anything related to him.

"oh my god, name?!" an old woman who was still radiating despite her age greeted you from the entrance, you took a moment and furrowed your brows. only to recognize the woman who took you in as a sitter nine years ago.

it took a lot of catching up, talking about your life mostly. you two were laughing and sharing stories, until she mentioned her son that fucking owns the tattoo parlor across your shop. the reason why she's here is she wants to give a bouquet to his son, for a successful half year.

your face couldn't muster up the shock that shook you to your core. she had to ask if you were okay. later enough, she was so excited that she planned to have a dinner with her family with you to catch up. well, you were pretty close with them in those two years. it'd be pretty rude to refuse this time.

and that's why you're sitting in this affluent house with high ceilings and shiny floors, across the redhead you remembered as someone so tiny was now bigger than you. the motherfucker never took his eyes off you, eyes that meant something more than curiosity.

"he's waaayy bigger than me, it's crazy!" you replied to the mother, laughing to reduce your uneasiness.

"right?! kidd was so focused on bulking up he's bigger than all of us!" his mother joked, nudging his son.

"that's enough about me, mammy. i'm more curious about name here, mind humorin' us about yourself?" he set his utensils down, clasp his hands, elbows resting on the table, and rested his chin atop his fists as he stared you down.

"hm? you've become so assertive now, kidd. back then, you were quite shy, hm? moreso, mean. have that changed too?" you tried matching up to his forwardness, raising a brow and holding his gaze.

"wanna fuck around and find out?" he cocked a brow, eyes narrowing.

there was silence, it's as if the room dimmed and the only light that radiated was the one between the two of you as you two had a mini staring contest on who'd look away first. you can't help it either, his golden orbs were something else, it's hypnotizing.

"gosh, you two were just like this back then! always having little bickerings!" his mother laughed, shaking you both to reality that you two weren't alone. "i'll let you two catch up, i'll just clean up." you almost begged her to stay, you don't know how to survive a room alone with him.

"hey name, come to the pool with me." he stood up, sauntering across the plutocratic house. you obeyed.

"why? you're inviting me to swim?"

once you've reached the pool place, he turned around, awfully close. "why don't we recreate some memories, yeah?" a grin made its way to his tinted lips. he simultaneously walked backwards to the pool as he unbuttoned the shirt that was way too tight on him.

your heart almost stopped in your chest. you two used to swim together during his birthday, you and a few other homies of his. "kidd... we aren't kids anymore."

by the time you complained, he was already shirtless, a body of a fucking greek god. he was unbuttoning his pants, now only his boxers that highlighted something too fucking distracting saliva was stuck on your throat. "and? can't you fucking swim now?" he teased, snickering. he wasted no time in diving, some of the water splashing on you.

"now i'm all wet, thanks." you sarcastically remarked, flapping your arms to dry off. he resurfaced, hair beautifully slicked back. he ran his hand across his face to dry off some water before shaking his head a bit to dry off his hair. he laughed a little, looking up at you. "well, seems you really have to get in now."

"how is that a reason to swim?" you placed your hands on your waist.

"come here, i'll tell you." he got closer at the edge of the pool, motioning his hand to ask you to get closer.

"i know this trick, eustass! i won't fall for it!" you raised your hands in defense, backing away from the pool.

"not if i drag you here though." he got up from the pool by propelling himself with his arms. body dripping as he ran to you and scooped you up like you weigh nothing. "ain't this nostalgic? you were the one carrying me like a sack back then."

"w-what the fuck?! you're so wet let me down!" you hit his chest, wiggling in his grasp as he gets closer to the pool.

"aye." he dropped you by the pool, shortly joining you afterward.

you both resurfaced, you gasped for air as he got closer to you. "i see you became even more of an asshole." you ran your hand across your face to get rid of some water.

his canines tugged at his lip as he grinned. "and you became even more damn whiny."

you two laughed for a moment, leaning closer. you two stood closer, getting lost in each other's eyes as well as the current of the pool.

"your eyes got more... golden." you mused at him, alternating glances at his orbs. he grinned a little.

"yeah? your smile got brighter too, you know that?" you were about to mutter out an insult but you slipped at the inclined floor towards the deeper part of the pool from the sudden push of the water. if it weren't for kidd pulling you closer by your arm as his other hand fell on your waist under water to pull you faster, you would've drowned.

"f-fucking shit!" you cursed, clinging onto his chest. "g-get me out of here, fuck!" you drummed at his chest and he bursted into laughter.

he abided, walking you to the stairs. he fetched a towel for you, throwing it above your head as he wrapped one around his hips.

"just borrow mammy's clothes, bathroom's on the left." he instructed, rubbing the towel on your head vehemently.

"okay, you can stop fucking with me now, kidd." you moved away from him, cursing out his grin now that he'd ruined your hair.

you did as he said. scanning through the clothes after washing up. you threw on a summer romper and dried your hair with the towel, walking outside to get some water on the kitchen.

as you were about to close the fridge door, you saw kidd was waiting on the other side of the room. "jesus christ, i told you to stop fucking with me!" you stomped on the floor, fists clenched.

he smiled a little, walking towards you. "not my fault you're jumpy."

"no, you just like to fuck with me, that's it."

"not entirely wrong."

"what's the other half?"

"that i do want to fuck you."

you were about to laugh, only to realize the meaning behind his words. you looked at him with the reddest face and the widest eyes. "k-kidd?!"

"yeah? want me to say it again? little closer by your ear, perhaps?" he leaned down closer, scrunching his nose.

you moved away, fanning yourself. "i'm just gonna pretend i didn't hear that-"

he grabbed your wrist, pulling you closer. "hey, that's just being unfair. you heard me loud and clear, bòidheach (beautiful). your face is enough damn reason." he tapped your chin, grinning as he stared at the redness of your cheeks. "and i'm sure you know how i want this to go, hm?"

"n-no kidd, this- we're in your mother's house...!" you looked around, looking for signs of his mother.

"and? i suppose you're aware that this is my house too and i have my room upstairs. kitchen'll do though."

"n-no! what are you talking about?! how the fuck did you reach that point where you wanted to do that with me?" the irritation was evident in your voice but that bastard was enjoying the show.

"well," he placed a hand on the fridge's surface, his biceps flexing and the veins on the crook of his elbow become more prominent, you were so fucking distracted your cheeks we're quite literally on fire. "innocent lil crushes evolve to somethin' more when you put on mini fuckin' skirts and tight fuckin' dresses everyday, it's hard not to look when you're just across the damn street, aye?" he eyed you, focused on the view of your cleavage from above.

"stop gawking at me, you pervert...!" you covered your chest. "i am not sleeping with you, feels weird."

"look, name." he shifted his weight, now crossing his arms. he didn't miss the way your eyes focused on how the bulge in his muscles got tighter and bigger. "it seems that you've got the idea that i'm still the little boy that you used to take care of, yeah? lemme do somethin' about that, m'eudail (darling)." his gaze darkened, his hands brushed by your arms before it finally settled on your shoulders.

there was silence. he had that cocky smirk while you pressed your lips together, trying to contain yourself from exploding. he cleared his throat, spreading his arms in surrender. "alright, i won't pressure ya. but know that i'll be waitin' in my room, last room on the right corner of the fourth floor." he winked before leaving you, heating up like a goddamn bonfire.

you took a moment before sliding down and sitting yourself down on the floor. it seems so fucking enticing, he seems so fucking enticing. the way you always catch his golden eyes that was highlighted by that beautiful red fucking locks almost undressed you, the way his toned fucking abdomen peeked from his shirt each time he lifts his arms and you see a hint of that happy trail, and how his thighs looked so goddamn huge on his ripped jeans.

"fucking hell, kidd." you mumbled to yourself, tugging on your locks. it didn't took you long enough to finally come to terms with it. so you gave in. it's just one time, right?

you made your way to the series of floors, passing by family portraits and baby pictures. you giggled to yourself seeing lots of pictures of both of you. soon enough, you reached the tall black door that seemed too conspicous that it indeed belonged to him. you hesitated a little before knocking with shaking fists.

seconds after, he opened the door with his shirt off. you tried your best to not gawk at how built this man is. he leaned an arm on the door that was halfway open, a knowing smirk on his lips as he eyed you up and down once more.

"i know what you're going to say, but i will only agree for one. fucking. time." you gritted your teeth, getting closer and raising your index finger at him. he nodded like an asshole, smile never faltering.

he placed his hand on the upper door frame, simultaneously leaning down closer to you while holding your gaze. "sure, cupcake. let's see how long you can hold your tongue."

you narrowed your gaze and there was a little staring contest between the two of you. he moved a little when he saw you trying to squeeze yourself inside, laughing at how cute you are. once you were walking inside he spoke, "why the change of heart?" he shut the door, flicking the lock.

you took a look around his room, it was mostly dark and reds, of course. littered with band posters and a spray painted wall that seemed to be an original art by him. red led lights wrote his name at the top of his black, tufted headboard. "prove me wrong about earlier, i guess."

he got closer, arms gently prying your crossed arms off, and landing on the buttons of your dress. "right, let's get into it, yeah?"

once he unbuttoned all of it and you let him, you stood there as his hands rested on either sides of your bare waist. his hands were cold. you linked foreheads as you exchanged deep breaths from the contact. "your hands are cold." you muttered, his metallic perfume clouding your senses. "and you're fuckin' sweatin', princess." he complained at the small beads of sweat on your lower back.

his hands roamed down your cheeks, squeezing both with much fervor before giving it a smack. you flinched, hands landing on his chest. "asshole." he cocked a grin at your remark, squeezing tighter to pull your hips closer.

your hands roam the span of his chest, across his shoulders, and up to his neck. your fingers traced the edges of his face, up to his tinted lips. soon enough, he licked the tip of your fingers before biting the skin a little. "come here, give me a kiss. i know you wanna." he growled, hands traversing to where your bra clips where.

you ignored him but complied, pulling him down to your level and colliding your lips with his. boy, was it the wildest kiss you've ever experienced. he immediately slid his tongue inside, taking control of your mouth. he smiled through the kiss before biting your lower lip when he felt you hitching a breath and wrapping your arms around his neck. he swiftly carried you by your bum and wrapped your legs around his waist.

it didn't take long enough for both of all of your clothes to be on the floor and now you two are hungrily making out on his bed. you sat on top of his lap while he sat like a fucking king on his bed, leaning by the headboard as he played with your ass until it's red. he relishes on how your folds periodically rub across his length, how your tits bounced on his neck and chest, and how warm and good your body feels when he hugs it.

"sit on my face." he ordered, muttering through hot pants and wet kisses. you almost fell on his lap if it weren't for his grip on your hips.

"w-what?" your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed, as if you weren't naked with him doing unholy things.

"you heard me, lovely." his eyes darkened, smile growing. "i'll fuckin' drag you here if i have to."

so you did, you weren't sure how to position yourself, it was your first time sitting on someone. so you carried yourself a little, afraid of suffocating him.

"baby," he peeked after giving one languid lick on your crevice. "when i tell you to sit on my face, sit. fucking. down." he pulled your hips down, both hands settled on your thighs as you completely took over his face.

oh, he took his time alright. slurping, sucking, and biting while he bullies your ass. you had to get a hold of the headboard because of how this goddamn animal devours you. "s-slow d-down- fuck!" you almost squealed, pulling on his hair. you felt him smile through your lips.

you were worn out afterward, overstimulated and he haven't even used his length. he gave you kiss on the cheek before pumping his length, "i-i don't think it'll fit..."

he bursted into laughter, "you're too fuckin' adorable, come here." he pulled you closer by the neck. "i'll make sure you'll beg for it later, don't worry."

and the bastard really did make you beg for it. he's got you pinned down between his arms with you back facing him as he rams you from behind. the repeated contact of your skin resounded around the four walls of his room. your chin was buried down his black pillows that scented so much like him it made you go even more crazy, your eyes were rolling at the back of your head as you utter out slurred curse words, drunk on his dick. he was fucking prying your walls open. his length was too girthy and huge. he always makes it a mission to reach your cervix with each thrust. you fisted the sheets, going crazy with each movement of his hips.

he leaned down and bit on your shoulder before licking on your ear. "enjoying yourself a little too much? you're way too fuckin' loud there, not that i'm complainin'. just hold on a little, i'm close." he gave the top of your head a kiss before returning back to his position, raising your ass up to have a sturdy grip and a harder thrust.

"i-i'm cumming," you slurred between your moans, toes curling and thighs shivering. and not too long after, you both came in unison, panting and whining against each other as he leaned his forehead on your shoulder.

"still a little boy?"

"shut the fuck up, you came all over me."

"why don't we clean up like you used to do to me, yeah?"

"you'll fuck me again in the bath, i'd rather not."

feeding y'all :>

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dazaiandhislovelybandages · 4 months

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When You Know, You Know {Osamu Dazai}

A/n: so this idea came like this morning and omg I wanted to write it so bad because I need some good angsty yet sort of fluffy Dazai fic mostly because I want Dazai to get comfort. Also YES I USED A SNOW LINE FROM HUNGER GAMES. ANYWAYS PLEASE READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS

Pairing: Dazai x assassin!fem!reader

TRIGGER WARNINGS: character deaths, mentions of violent crime scene, Mori, murder, YES I AM A MORI HATER, blood, mentions of abuse

It had been four years since you left Port Mafia. You left the day after Dazai did -after enduring the torture Mori ordered upon you because he thought Dazai had contacted you- without contacting a single soul even though it was more than certain that the few people close to you -Chuuya and Koyou- would be worried sick. Was it because you wanted to get out of the organisation as soon as possible or because you wanted to somehow get revenge because Dazai had left you alone without a single warning.

Like everyone in the Port Mafia you heard about Oda's death the day after it happened -the day Dazai left- and something in your heart broke because even though you, seventeen years old at the time, were under the protection and guidance of Koyou along with Chuuya, you knew Oda. He had grown on you and if it hadn't been for Dazai mentioning him whenever the two of you sat in the dark in his container, it would have been because of Oda's gentle personality amidst the cruelty of the Port Mafia.

It went without saying that with Chuuya and Dazai being closest to you in age with them being one year older, you had naturally developed a somewhat nice relationship which had first started because of your respective positions: Dazai and Chuuya being executives and you being an assassin. You often went to missions with Dazai and Chuuya -always upon Dazai's request of your abilities- so after some time you became friends with the bandaged executive and soon after, lovers.

Had your relationship with Dazai been toxic? Absolutely yes and even though you both knew it, you couldn't actually help but come back for more. Both of you. So when he left like that? You were simply devastated.

And it took you a long time to feel like yourself again. In the meantime, you still worked as an assassin, performing various missions given to you by quite the important people.

You put your life in the Port Mafia in the past, a dark past that you didn't like visiting. But since you worked in the Underground you heard all sorts of things. That was how the fact that Mori had requested for a member of the Detective Agency to be transfered to the Port Mafia reached your ears.

You had heard that Dazai was now working for the Detective Agency and had reached the point of visiting him countless times before. The thought that he could be the one transfered to the Port Mafia kept you up at night for numerous days. How you had reached the point of caring for someone who perhaps hadn't cared about you was beyond you and yet there you were.

The sound the elevator at the Port Mafia building made when it reached Mori's floor specifically was almost like a stab right in the heart. All those memories were coming back, days of torture and manipulation from Mori's side that if not all then almost everyone among the higher-ups in the organisation had endured.

The whole thing lasted fifteen minutes. Just fifteen minutes was all it took for the man who ruined lives to die.

"Y/n?" Chuuya's voice snapped you out of your train of thought. Slowly, you lifted your head, your eyes falling upon the clock on the wall on the other end of the hallway. No wonder Chuuya was there, it was nearly eight in the morning, all Port Mafia members would start coming to work sooner or later.

You leaned your head back on the wall, bringing your knees even closer to your chest as you sat down on the floor. A small sigh of relief escaped your lips. Chuuya had been the one to find you. There was something odd in the way he looked down at you.

Chuuya, one of the most proud Port Mafia members, possibly the only member who respected the organisation for some reason. He wasn't freaked out, angry... he didn't pity you. It was as if he understood. He didn't have to ask or push the door of Mori's room open to understand what you had done -even though the blood on your hands and clothes was making it obvious.

"Come." He removed his gloves and after placing them on his shoulders, he helped you stand up. That was when you noticed Akutagawa standing behind him, waiting for his orders. "Inform Koyou." was all Chuuya told him and led you towards the elevator.

"What?" Akutagawa's voice came out trembling as if he didn't believe how someone who had just killed the Port Mafia's boss was walking away without any consequencies. But the young man didn't question his superior's orders further. Maybe because he had known you since he first arrived at the Port Mafia with you being the closest thing he had to a doctor after patching up any wounds inflicted by Dazai.

"I did it for Q and Koyou and that Detective Agency doctor and for Oda and Kyoka and Osamu and me." Your voice was barely above a whisper as you reached the underground parking lot where Chuuya had his car.

"I know." Chuuya handed you a handkerchief but you refused, your eyes focused on your bloodied clothes.

Other than that the car ride was silent. And when Chuuya stopped the car in front of the building you had almost entered many times in the past four years all you did was look at him. "Won't you come with me?"

Chuuya chuckled, shaking his head. "No, I have to clean the mess you left behind."

"If someone can become the new boss then please..." If your hands weren't covered in blood you would have hugged him. "Please take the position, and give Aku a better place as well."

Chuuya only smiled and opened the door for you. "I assume we will see each other again."

You took the elevator to the floor where the office of the Detective Agency was. Before you could do it yourself, the door of the office opened, a boy with blonde hair and a straw hat standing behind it with a smile on his face.

"Chuuya told us you will be coming."

"Did he now?" You let out a chuckle. It was slightly forced and very ironic considering that you were covered in the blood of one if not the most important man in Yokohama.

"Yosano!" The boy shouted and made way for you to enter the office.

You had heard of the doctor. You knew her ability and you knew her past. Mori didn't really keep his achievements private when he wanted to terrify his opponent.

Yosano was leaning against the door of her examine room, a sorrowful expression on her face. "I killed Mori Ougai." You mumbled.

"It must have been awful" A ginger haired boy said. Yosano approached you, ready to examine you fully.

"It was... yet it felt... powerful." You muttered, no sign of emotion in your voice. "The blood is not mine." You looked down.

"I will bring you a new change of clothes then so you can meet the president" She patted your back and opened the door of her examine room to lead you inside. You heard it close behind you and let out a heavy sigh.

"Long time no see."

The voice was familiar and soft like velvet with perhaps a hint of a small smile.

"That is all you have to say?"

Dazai's eyes were blooshot red and it didn't take much thinking to understand that he had been crying before you walked in there. He let out a sad laugh and nodded.

You took a small step and sat beside him on the bed that was meant for patients. He turned to look at you before taking your hand in his as if he hadn't left you without notice four years ago.

"My hands are covered in blood." You managed to say, fighting tears.

"So are mine, let me take half the blame."

#dazai osamu x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x reader #dazai #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs dazai #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #writing #anime and manga #anime #manga #dazai angst #dazai fluff

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princesssmars · 1 year

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late night visitors

a ladynoir x reader

most people don't get visited by paris's notorious superheroes at night. luckily, you're not most people.

wc : 1982

contains : fluff. just a bunch of fluff ngl. polyamory. mari and adrien's ages arent stated but they grew up with me in my head so they're about 17/18 here idc.

f/f - favorite flowers

a/n : we love starting a fic and not finishing it until a year later <3 i made this short (?) and sweet before i went overboard. enjoy :)

one thing paris didn’t get enough credit for was its quietness. during the day the city bustles, each arrondissement’s streets filled with tourists and families enjoying the city of love. but you loved it at night. the air grows cold and the roads are deserted, only a few stragglers walking about. the city lights twinkle against the skyline and blend into the clear night sky to create your favorite sight.

you had spent a while sitting on your balcony and just enjoying it, having finished your homework and chores and ready to just be. you let all of your worries about school and friends and villains go and finally relaxed, staying outside for an hour before heading off inside for a night of rest.

tap tap tap.

you grumble, slowly rising from your sleep at the sudden noise you've heard at the other end of the rom. sitting up and rubbing at your eyes, you look around your bedroom to pinpoint where the disturbance came from. from what you can see in the dark nothing fell from your bed, and your closet and bedroom doors are closed so that only leaves one other spot.

tap tap tap.

letting out a huff of air through your nose, you rise from your bed and throw on your robe, quickly noting the alarm clock on your dresser telling you its already past midnight, before moving to the window that looks into your balcony.

not able to see anything, you carefully open the door, shivering and only stopping for a second to again look at the beautiful view of paris before looking around your balcony, only to see a small flower pot that rose had gifted you knocked over.

figuring it to be some dumb bird or a stray, you turn back towards your room just to see a giant pair of bright green eyes staring right into your soul.

it’s pure luck that you're able to muffle your short scream in your hands to not wake and alarm your parents and half the of the arrondissement. unluckily, paris’ beloved hero chat noir is on the brink of laughing his stupid leather-covered ass off.

he somehow manages to calm down, but that means now he’s talking. and god help you when chat noir decided to speak.

"i knew you could be jumpy when scared but you leaped higher than a startled cat! you should've seen it!"

he makes more jokes and lets out little laughs as you stand still in front of him, glaring at him in your pajamas. the fact that your bottoms were covered in pink cupcakes didn't help your case.

“if you seriously woke me up at midnight just to tease and laugh at me so help me god chat,” you squint your eyes in a warning, barely noticing the figure cloaked in red and black sliding up to your side.

“nope, we brought something else,” you hear whispered into your ear. not flinching this time, be it because you were too pissed off or less on edge from the last time. you turn and smile softly when soft baby blue eyes meet your own. “how was your day, mon cheri?”

you hum as your hands find their way around her shoulders and hers wrap around your middle, “better now that you're here, can't say the same for others though.” ladybugs body rocks with a silent laugh as chat looks at the two of you shocked.

he goes off into one of his usual dramatic rants about how the “loves of my life have left me behind for each other! the stereotypes are true!” as you both watch him in amusement.

“alright fine, you big oaf. get in here,” you sigh, moving your arm from around ladybug to open in his direction. he puts on his model-worthy blinding smile and rushes into the hug, squeezing the both of you and raising you off the ground. sometimes you forgot how strong they could be.

during the day, marinette and adrien were the pinnacles of perfectly normal teenagers. it’d been an honor to not only see them grow up from stumbling middle schoolers bestowed with unfathomable power to where they are today.

when you first met mari you thought she was weird, to put it frankly. you’d reflected on how nervous she would get around you and adrien and how you caught her following you a few times, much to her embarrassment at the memories. but after giving her a chance at the behest of alya you found out how amazing she could be. she was incredibly smart, excelling in her studies and being the group's designated tutor. it was only during one of your late-night tutoring sessions, the blue-haired girl smiling at you sweetly and praising you when you got a problem wrong, that you realized you had feelings for her.

and adrien was so radiant it was scary. you figured since he was rich and childhood friends with chloe bourgeois of all people that he’d be another snob for you to ignore. but then that day happened when chloe was jealous of all the attention you were getting on your new hairstyle and dumped a tiny carton of milk on your head. normally you didn't let her get to you, but you couldn't help but tear up and run to hide in an empty classroom. it wasn't until a little later that a soaking-wet adrien sat down next to you, telling you he was sorry for what chloe did, and said “if she’s going to bully my friends, she’ll have to do the same to me.”

after that, it was hard not to harbor feelings for the two of them, and you were so glad when they confessed not only to each other but to you as well. you weren't expecting the whole superhero reveal thing, though. but it warmed you inside to know they trusted you enough with this secret.

“let’s head inside, its getting colder and i don't want you to get sick.” ladybug pulls out of the hug, holding the back of her hand up to your head.

“i’m fine, bug,” you assure her, pulling her hand away and smiling at the way her cheeks tint pink. “what’d you bring me?”

ladybug waves her hand to chat, the boy coming up behind you before your vision goes dark with his hands covering your eyes. you hear the sound of ladybug’s yoyo, then the familiar whssh of her body traveling through the air.

“can you give me a hint at least?” you plead. its been a solid three minutes of waiting for marinette to come back and the excitement is making you antsy. not to mention your leather-clad boyfriend standing right behind you.

“no can do, babe. we both know you'll figure it out and then ladybug will figure out that you've figured it out and then she figures out its because i told you and then-”

“ok ok! i get it! ill wait patiently.”

luckily you don't have to wait long, chat removing his hands to show you marinette standing in front of you holding a bouquet of f/f and a box of your favorite pastries.

“i made them this morning so they'd be fresh in case something happened, thank god we only had to deal with some thieves.” marinette hands you the flowers, the pair of them thankful when you bring them up and take in a deep inhale of their scent, holding them close to your chest.

“i wouldn't call ten men breaking into the louvre just any regular thieves, my lady.” chat chuckles.

ladybug shrugs. “didnt seem so tough to me.”

she shrugs. “didnt seem so tough to me.”

“c'mon you two, lets head inside before some insomniac catches a picture of you two.”

they follow you inside, the both of them able to sneak well after years of practice. you put the flowers in a spare vase on your dresser, gently placing them inside with a smile. you hear a slight smack followed by a 'ow!’ and a laugh. you turn to see your girlfriend scowling at your boyfriend, whose mouth is stuffed with one of the pastries.

“i made them for y/n! at least let her have the first one.” ladybug chastises him, setting the box down on a coffee table before sitting on your white chaise.

chat ignores her, too entranced by the deliciousness of her baking. “whatever you say, buggaboo.”

you smile, loving to watch how they interact with each other. they worked so well together, and sometimes when you admired them it seemed like they were made for each other. if it wasnt so sweet you’d be more jealous, but they never made you feel excluded.

“ill go put these in your kitchen so you can have them for breakfast.” chat puts some of the pastry on a napkin and leaves it on the table for you before picking up the box and slinking out of your door with a wink.

you send him an appreciative smile, looking to the side to see ladybug still slightly pouting.

“its fine bug, i appreciate it no matter what,” you sit down next to her, reaching up to take her mask off as her baby blue eyes look at you fondly. “ill have to repay you somehow. just tell me what and its yours.”

mari looks at you silently for a few seconds more before brining up her hand to cup your face and bringing you in for a sweet kiss. mari's kisses were some of your favorites, the girl always making sure to assert herself as ladybug and it travels into her intimacy.

you pull away reluctantly, her looking at you with a lovestruck grin.

“you already repay me by being mine, mon cheri.” she whispers, placing a gentle kiss on your warm cheek. you start to flirt back when a force plops onto the chaise next to you, a mop of blonde hair landing into your lap.

“i second what she said, my love. only if i get some kisses too obviously.” adrien says, his mask now off to show off his dazzling emerald eyes.

you roll your eyes in playful annoyance but relent, leaning down to give him a kiss as well. adrien’s kisses are just as amazing as mari’s but they feel…desperate. not in the way he kissed you when he underestimated a villain and nearly lost his life, rushing back to your apartment and kissing you before holding you in a tight embrace for an hour.

he was desperate for physical touch, the reminder that he’s yours and your his and that you wont leave him. but no matter how much the two of you pretend to be exasperated at his constant touches and flirting, you want to assure him that you’ll always be here for him no matter what.

the kiss ends and you nearly giggle from the sight of his dopey grin and hooded eyes, quickly widening when mari roughly grabs his cheeks and kisses him dramatically.

“there, happy not, kitty?” she asks, the boy laying limp across your lap.

“yup. perfect.”

after a minute of mari teasing chat for his dopey reaction to your kisses and adrien pointing out how she acts the exact same, the time of night catches up with you and you feel your eyes start to droop. just when you feel the lull of sleep taking you away, a strong pair of arms lifting you up and placing you in bed. when they start to pull away, you tiredly reach your arm out to hold their wrist, whispering a quiet “stay.”

thankfully your loves cant say no to you, the two of them resting on top of the covers as they cuddle you from either side.

its quiet as they stay with you, and you’ve never loved the quiet of the city more.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug x reader #marinette dupain cheng #marinette dupain cheng x reader #marinette x reader #ladybug x reader #adrien agreste #adrien agreste x reader #ladynoir #ladynoir x reader #adriennette #adrienette x reader

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rmd-writes · 8 months

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a love note (and some fics)

Sometimes I wonder if there's really anything bigger out there - the universe, some kind of higher power, fate - and then I think about how extremely lucky I am that I became obsessed with a certain tv show and its characters at just the right time so that I could befriend someone who then introduced me to a particular book at exactly the right time to fall in love with those characters as well. And then, because of my need to have more of those characters, I went looking for more stories about them at exactly the right time to meet a group of people (some of them together, some of them later, but that doesn't matter) who would go on to become my friends.

There must be something, right? To bring together a group of people who live in five to seven different time zones depending on the time of year. To create my safest spaces on the internet. To share not just our love for a book and its characters, but parts of our lives with each other. To have them all wedge themselves into the soft spaces of my heart and never leave.

I've been thinking about this a lot over the last two weeks, because those people conspired and collaborated to gift me a collection of 10 incredible fics for a milestone birthday (tomorrow!) - even though some of them haven't written fic for months and months, or don't write for this fandom at all anymore, or have recently been finding it hard to make words work and finish fics, or are just plain busy with other projects and life. That they took the time to find and make words for me means everything and more 💖💖

I've been absolutely overwhelmed with love these past 10 days (probably to the surprise of no one, I have cried at every single fic drop and I'm crying writing this now). So, I want to share the wonderful fics that they've written for me with you all because it's the least I can do to pay it forward and they're objectively stellar fics. If you haven't come across them already then you should definitely add them to your to read lists/open tabs/MFL. Please show my friends some love and read their work.

The Rae of Sunshine! collection, in order of publication (with my very short summaries):

Take It Back (4.2K) by @three-drink-amy

Henry is the head chef at a French restaurant and there's one patron who keeps sending his dishes back. How can they resolve this?

Dick, Dick Dick (You Down) (10.2K) by @everwitch-magiks

Alex runs the craft services trailer on the set of actor!Henry's latest movie. Is he the only person who sees behind the façade?

A deceptively soft story, given the title.

Precious Love (1.3K) by floatingaway4

The fluffiest follow up to one of my favourite AUs Amigos y Migas (aka the food truck au).

Midnight ice cream (5.8K) by @the-amber-fox

Emotional support Cornettos? More likely than you think.

Make it Right (5.3K) by @three-drink-amy (that's right, Ally wrote me TWO FICS)

A rogue little Tarlos fic in amongst the firstprince - a post-season 1 canon divergence that sees TK working in a taco truck while he finds his feet.

a taste of life (7.4K) by @indomitable-love

A journey through Henry's life, told through food. (This one is not my summary, indomitablelove already summed it up perfectly)

Risotto + Melanzane + Dolce (a love story) (16.8K) by @villiageidiot

Alex starts working at an Italian restaurant and is terrible at his job. Somehow, Henry doesn't seem to mind.

Cursed is a State of Mind (WIP) by @welcometololaland & @dustratcentral

A 5 + 1 treatise on cursed coffee consumption.

12 Year Starter (6.6K) by @clottedcreamfudge

When Pez can't make it to Henry's Michelin-star birthday dinner, he arranges for Henry's friend, Alex, to take his place. Featuring CCF's signature banter and fun, and a menu that I wish was real.

Pour Your He(art) Out (WIP) by @athousandrooms

A 5+1 ode to latte art (featuring actual art!)

You can find the entire collection here on Ao3.

#rae gets sappy #i have the best friends #fandom friends are the best friends #rwrb fic rec #tarlos fic rec #rwrb fic #firstprince fic #red white & royal blue fic #tarlos fic #rae of sunshine

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ughgoaway · 8 months

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the birthday party

content warnings: alludes to sex at one point, drinking, gross romantic stuff and uhhh I think that's it? word count- 2.7k ish

a/n: 2 fics in less than a week??? who am I?? anyway, I was actually lying earlier in the week and somehow managed to finish this just in time for my birthday!! sadly, this is not how I'm spending my day but I am gonna delude myself that it is!!! Unsurprisingly, I am not a fan of this fic and wrote like 2k in a night so please tell me if it's really bad... okay here it is, love youuuuu-

You slam the door of your car and let out a sigh from deep within your chest. The day's weight feels heavy as you walk up to your silent house. The party your work had thrown you for your birthday ended up being less of a celebration and more of a hell hole you couldn't escape.

Sandra, your work “best friend” (a title she had given herself), had insisted on throwing you a party after finding out your birthday was at the end of the week. You insisted it was a small party and begged her for nothing big. And it began that way, just meeting in the conference room after work with a cake from Tesco, no dressing up, no gifts, just a small gathering.

As the week developed, your small get-together began to change and grow into something entirely new. Each email that came in had something added to the invite. Somehow, by the end of the week, it had changed to a semi-formal party, presents “optional” (necessary) with decorations and a personalised cake.

Today had been bad enough before the party, endless incompetent people seemed to find their way to you. You'd been hit on by 2 men old enough to be your father, screamed at by a 40-year-old woman for being “a stupid bitch” and dealt with 4 more insane people.

The party was just as bad as you expected. The only thing keeping you together was the compliments on your outfit. Matty had helped you pick out the dress you were wearing the night before, insisting on helping you feel just a little bit better about the party. It was nothing much, a simple forest green cowl neck. A small slit went up the side of your leg that hit mid-thigh, you were sure it was too much for a work party but after Matty's never-ending spiel of compliments, you decided to wear it anyway.

You sat through the 2 speeches from your boss and your apparent new best friend before you managed to slip away. Yes, somehow you managed to sneak out of a party that was supposedly for you, but you weren't going to take that personally. You saw the opportunity and ran.

The strappy heels that were once on your feet sat in your hands as you walked up the path to your front door. There were no lights on, which was unusual for this time. You thought Matty would be home and waiting with open arms, but he was nowhere to be seen, his car not even in the driveway.

You tried to mask your disappointment at your boyfriend not being home for your birthday, You're sure he just got caught up in the studio with George. A new idea probably came to him suddenly that he needed to get done then and there. You almost cursed his brain, but you could never curse the thing you loved so much.

The way you existed in his mind astonished you. Song after song was written about you, each one more beautiful than the last and each one changed how you perceived yourself. You used to insist the person who he sang about wasn't real, that she couldn't be. But demo after demo was played to you with Matty insisting you are real, and you are exactly how he sings about you.

You were this unimaginable force that changed his life in a way he only thought was possible in shitty teen movies. He was enamoured by you, every waking thought was about you, and if he was honest, even his non-waking thoughts were about you. He felt higher than heaven when he was with you, not that he would ever tell you that as he's sure you would cringe and scrunch your nose up at his cheesy behaviour.

The key clicked in the lock, and your door screeched open. Your cat came running at you and began rubbing on your legs. “Hi baby,” you began, turning the entryway light on and sighing once again, “I've got to grease those door hinges, don't I nutmeg?” Your cat had been adopted long before Matty came into your life. Well, adopted was a strong word. You found him hidden under the bins outside your old flat, once a skinny kitten, but he was now a slightly too chunky house cat who loved you more than life itself. Matty always joked that his only real competition for the thing that loved you most in the world was nutmeg, but he insisted he beat him every time.

you drop your heels on the floor and shut the door behind you, wincing at the squeak it lets out. Only to jump where you stood at the sight in front of you.

“Surprise!” rang out from the lounge room, your friends and family all stood with hats and smiles as they stared at you.

Tears streamed down your face as you laughed at the sight in front of you, streamers hung from the beams and balloons coming from every where.

You briefly look around at the people in front of you before your eyes are drawn directly to him, just as they always were.

Matty came strolling up and pulled you in for a brief kiss before escorting you into the sea of people that faced you.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

After 40 minutes of pure joy and mingling, you managed to pull away to get a drink. You enter the kitchen and grab a cup off the side before moving further in to find whatever alcohol you could.

You eventually settle on a Jack and Coke, You spy them on the other side of the kitchen and walk over to make your drink. More Jack than Coke if you are honest.

You take a sip and sigh as the drink slides down your throat, the glass clinks as you place it back down on the counter to take a breath.

Quickly, a pair of hands slide over your hips and settle on your stomach, You know exactly who it is by the scent of his cologne and the feeling of his warmth.

Matty pulls you into his body, your back against his chest. He begins pressing small kisses up the side of your neck and smiles as he hears your poorly suppressed giggles slipping out.

"So what do you think beautiful?" he asked, whispering into your ear before pressing yet another kiss behind it.

You slide around in his arms, his hands cheekily slipping down to grip your ass before sliding up to rest on your waist again. You shoot him a faux disapproving look but soon break out into a large smile at the pure adoration on your boyfriend's face.

"I think it's amazing. Thank you so much, baby," you say, kissing Matty. But you quickly pull away, much to the distaste of your boyfriend who lets out an upset grumble. "It explains all your suspicious behaviour over the last few weeks…" you say teasingly, raising your eyebrows and smiling at the man in front of you before leaning in for another kiss.

This time, however, it was Matty rejecting your advances as he pulled away and looked down at you teasingly.

"Oh, I've been suspicious, have I?" he said, leaning further back of your grip, causing the pair of you to begin walking back together until the kitchen counter stopped you, and you pressed into Matty.

"Please do tell love, how was I being suspicious, huh?" he said with a mocking lilt to his voice, leaning in and teasing your lips with his own. His breath tickled your lips, and he kept evading your moves.

“Well…” you begin smiling gleefully at your boyfriend, nervous to explain how he's been suspicious, worrying hell realise just how much time you spend lovingly watching him. Some would say creepily, you're sure, but you say lovingly.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You begin with the first thing you noticed, Matty's phone was suddenly attached to him. Usually, he had no idea where his phone was at any given time, believing everyone should be more present and leave their phones at home.

If anyone asked him about it, he would then begin to go on a long rant about the internet and his qualms with it. It was at that point you interrupted and just told whoever he was talking to to listen to “a brief inquiry” and “notes” if they wanted his thoughts on that subject.

But recently you'd noticed he hadn't been asking you 100 times a day “Babe, have you seen my phone?” like he usually did when he left it somewhere in your concrete mansion of a home. Every text and call was immediately answered, and some calls were even taken in the other room. You wrote it off as secret dirty hit business, trying not to delude yourself into thinking something more.

But it was last Sunday when you became sceptical of your boyfriend's new attachment to his phone.

The sun was streaming through the windows to the courtyard, decorating the house in golden hues that danced over the walls. You and Matty had woken up starving (probably due to the events of the night before) and decided to make breakfast.

So you did, like a couple in a rom-com. Matty's hair was messy, and his pyjama trousers sat low on his hips. He had forgone a shirt this morning as it had been stolen by you. You danced around him in one of his many Jeff Buckley shirts with nothing but panties underneath.

You swung around in each other's arms and stared into the other's eyes like lovesick teenagers. You put a hand up and began twisting the curls surrounding Matty's face. The other hand slid behind his neck and began to massage the curls back there. A content hum slipped out your boyfriend's mouth, and his eyes fluttered close at the feeling.

You stared in awe at the man in front of you, almost feeling sick to your stomach with affection. You traced each freckle on his face, mentally keeping count before getting distracted by his flittering eyelashes. You marvel at their length and briefly wonder why men always get such long eyelashes.

Before that thought overtakes your mind, you get distracted by another feature on your beautiful boyfriend's face, the light blush that decorates his cheeks. You stroke over the apples of his cheeks and resist the urge to pinch them like a grandmother.

The same pink that flushed his cheeks sat on his plump lips that were begging to be kissed, so you did. You pecked his lips over and over before moving to his cheeks, then his forehead and soon over his whole face.

His laughter soon broke the pair of you up and in a smitten daze Matty suggested a shower, you nodded and told him to go get it started while you put the dishes away. He happily ran up the stairs to start the shower and you giggled at your boyfriend's teenage excitement.

His phone buzzed on the concrete counter and you fought the internal battle of whether to look, your rational side saying not too soon lost out to intense curiosity.

A message from his mum sat on the screen simply saying, “Oh love, that's perfect. y/n will adore it.”

“Huh… so maybe not dirty hit business” you spoke out quietly to yourself, You soon put the phone down and ran up to the shower where your boyfriend was waiting ready to undress you.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Okay, so maybe I was on my phone a bit more than usual but that can't be it! Surely that alone can't be suspicious” Matty said looking down at you with a grin on his face.

“Well no… There was that message from your mum too!” You say before whispering something under your breath, “and that other thing...”

“Other thing?” Matty said, leaning back to examine your face, narrowing his eyes at your expression.

You stay silent at bite your lip at him, shaking your head at his questioning glare.

“No, no. Come on baby, what else made you realise something was up hmm” Matty said. You kept on moving your head from side to side, avoiding his gaze, knowing you'd crumble as soon as you looked at him.

Finally, he gripped your head between his hands and pressed kisses over your face, hoping it would get you to break.

It did.

“Fine! Fine!” You relent at your boyfriend's onslaught of pecks, “There was the sock drawer thing...” you say quietly, looking up at Matty, who wore a puzzled expression.

“Sock drawer thing?” he asked confusedly, “I'm gonna need more than that babe” he said, a smile clear in his voice.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was the Wednesday of the week of your birthday, Matty's phone had still been attached at the hip to him but you gave up questioning it, thinking he was just feeling more social lately.

You sat up at the head of your bed, your pillows behind your back and the duvet crumpled over your legs as you read your book. The shower was running in your ensuite, Matty needed one before a meeting at the office.

Soon the shower stopped and after a groan, a voice rang out behind the door. “Babe!” Matty began, “I forgot to get pants and a pair of socks, can you grab me some?”

You smiled at your boyfriend's forgetfulness, knowing he wasn't exactly a morning person, “Of course my love” you reply softly sliding the duvet off your legs and padding across the room to his drawer.

Your hand had barely grabbed the handle before he came rushing out and shouting, “WAIT! NO, NO NO” he stared at you with wild eyes. You shot back and lifted your hands in mock surrender to your boyfriend.

You took in his look, his shirt was half-buttoned but around his waist was just his towel. His curls were sopping wet and dripping on the floor, he was panting and staring at you with unnaturally wide eyes.

“Sorry babe... Uhh..” he struggled to finish his sentence, looking around the room as if to find an excuse for his erratic behaviour.

“Just… didn't want you to get out of bed s’all” he said pausing briefly, a nervous smile broke out across his face, “You looked so cosy reading so just… go get settled again”

You looked suspiciously at your boyfriend before nodding and walking back to bed silently. The rest of the day went as expected, Matty kissed you goodbye before his meeting and you went to work where you were bombarded with questions from Sandra about your “big day”.

But you didn't forget his wild eyes and odd behaviour.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Oh yeah!” Matty said, laughing at himself, “All the decorations were stashed in there so I couldn't have you snooping around” he explained causally. “But that was very odd of me. Were you expecting a party” he asked with a tilt of his head.

He watched your cheeks heat up as you stammered to explain what you expected, not wanting to make him feel pressured.

Eventually, you just spat it out, “Well… I kind of thought you might be proposing to me,” you say cautiously. You watch your boyfriend's eyes widen, and your hand shoots up to his chest to soothe him.

“Don't freak out, okay!!” You beg him, “It was just the combination of a few things that made me think that. But PLEASE do not feel pressured. We will get married when we do. There is no rush from me, I promise”

You wait with bated breath at his reaction, hoping it wouldn't be running and screaming. Soon, he broke out in wild laughter, much to your relief.

Once his laughter died down, he pulled you in closer and squeezed you lightly, “Not yet sweetheart, but I will eventually, don't you worry.” You smiled at his words and let yourself melt into his embrace.

Little did you know, upstairs in that sock drawer was a ring, no decorations having been stashed there. Just a little velvet box and a written speech prepared for next week, your 6th anniversary.

#matty healy #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy x reader #matty healy fic #matty healy fluff #cute little bday fic!!!!#okay why do i hate this so much UGH #im posting it anyway but be warned... it may be deleted...#but matty you can definitely propose to me whenever bff <3

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antiquitea · 2 days

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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: john egan x gale cleven.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the last place that john egan wants to be the summer before he graduates high school is the egan family cottage, a place where time and everyone else seems to have forgotten. having been intent on finding a summer job, spending time with his friends, going to parties, and making out with pretty girls, john is irked that the egan family matriarch has other ideas and wants the family to spend "one last" summer together.

john's sour mood shifts just a little when he meets local, but also not-so-local, gale cleven, a boy his age who works at the small town's one pizza joint. through teenage angst and a desire to break free of the awkward position of not being children anymore but not yet men, the two form a bond that makes their summer a little more bearable. a bond that comes to shock the both of them.

but what happens when more than the summer comes to an end?

𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: teen, though later chapters might have a slightly higher rating.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.2k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: YEAH FIRST MASTERS OF THE AIR FIC. thank you to everyone who reblogged the mood board and expressed interest in the story. special thanks to @wildbornsiren for being my ride or die and @swifty-fox for letting me share snippets and bouncing ideas off of you.

likes / comments / reblogs are very much appreciated! thank you for reading! 💚

» mood board. » read on ao3.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈.

Summer 1986 Somewhere in Wisconsin

“Johnny!”

Evidently, John Egan had ignored the shouts from his mother to come inside for the last time. Her voice turned into something shrill that he could hear even down by the lake, where he could normally escape all manner of ruckus that came from the cottage. It wasn’t that noisy, he supposed. But it was difficult to get a moment of peace and quiet when his whole family - his ma and dad, his sister, and himself - were all crammed into the small two bedroom space.

When they were kids, John and his sister, Billie, would bunk together in one room, at first sharing the one bed, John then eventually sleeping on the floor when he “got too long,” as his dad put it. But when one is suddenly seventeen, and the other is fourteen, bunking together isn’t on the table anymore, no matter what Ma said. John would just as soon take the couch, which he was too long to fit on comfortably anymore, in the living room, or grab a tent and camp out under the stars if the weather was nice enough.

“Johnny Egan!”

The last name had been included, it was getting serious.

John pushed himself up with a soft grunt, hands instinctively wiping grass and dirt from the ass of his shorts. He reached over to pick up the battered copy of ‘Salem’s Lot and the empty bottle of Coke that he’d brought down to the edge of the lake with him, cramming the book in his back pocket, and holding the empty bottle between his long fingers.

He didn’t know what all the fuss was about, having dinner at the same time every night. It was summer, no one else seemed to be on a set schedule. Kids, teens, and adults ran wild in cottage country. At least that had been the way. Once upon a time, he and Billie had been allowed to miss dinners and stay out past their bedtimes. Yet somehow, as they got older, Ma and Dad were trying to tighten the reins. Ma had tearfully mentioned that it might be the last time they all got down to the lake together for the summer, as if one of them were fuckin’ dying or something.

John tramped through the brush and tall grass to get to the path that would lead him back to the small cluster of cottages on the the top of the hill. There had been four that had always been there, as long as he could remember, situated around the lake. They went back generations, passed down through handshakes and wills, little more than a handful of rooms for families to sleep, eat, and unwind after a day in the sun.

But over the past few years things further up the road were beginning to be developed, real proper like, and it was only a matter of time before it reached the older cottages down by the lake. John had ridden his bike past them shortly after they’d arrived a week ago; they looked almost as nice as the house that they lived in ten months out of the year back in Manitowoc. John had heard the stories about how the Egan Family Cottage had come to be, put together by his grandfather and a few friends over the course of the summer in 1945, a product of coming home from the war, too much time on their hands, and a lot of packs of cigarettes and beer.

“Jo -”

“I’m comin’ Ma!”

When he was a kid it seemed like a much greater distance between the cottage and the lake, and now he realized that they were within spitting distance of one another. He’d taken up less space then.

John crested over the small hill at the top of the path, the cottages in full or partial view now. Theirs was on the far right, and despite its location amongst the small cluster, had been the center of his universe, and the universe of all the other kids, summer friends, that spent summers there, for as long as he could remember. But the Miller kids were both off to college the last couple of years, and Amos Cook had passed away early that spring, and his widow couldn’t bear to come down and bring their grandkids with her.

Suddenly, at seventeen years of age, John felt too young and too old all at once.

—

“Lucia’s dad said he would drive us to the mall the next town over tonight. If that’s okay? Ma? It closes at eight.”

John pushed the remnants of dinner around his plate with the prongs of his fork, desperately wanting to be set free from the small dinner table shoved into a corner of an equally small kitchen, to go and find somewhere to finish his book. He only had a couple of chapters left before he was finished, and he really wanted an excuse to take his bike (or the truck if Dad was in a good mood) into town the next day, go to the library, maybe spend some time at the pizza place that had Galaga and Time Pilot arcade cabinets, see a pretty girl. Any girl, really. He was beginning to think his summer would’ve been better spent in Manitowoc. At least then maybe he stood a chance of feeling up something pretty in the back seat at the drive-in.

“Who’s Lucia?” John Egan the Elder asked, reaching over and opening the fridge door. The perks of the small kitchen and its small dinner table meant that the fridge was often within reach. Egan Senior pulled out a beer and held it up, looking at John with raised eyebrows. John nodded, and his dad pulled another one out. He popped the caps off of both and then handed one to his son.

“A new friend,” Billie replied after a sip of water. “Her parents have one of the cottages up the road. I met her today. She’s really nice. Ma, you’d like her.”

“Oh, Billie. Why would you want to go to the mall on a night like this?” Ma Egan asked, dabbing her lips with a napkin.

Dinner had been steaks and vegetables that Dad had cooked on the barbeque. It dawned on John that in the summer that his dad did most of the cooking on the grill, which meant Ma got a break from cooking. Perhaps that was why she had been so eager to come down to the cottage every year.

“Oh let her go, Ma,” John Sr. said, then taking a sip from his bottle of beer. “She’s met a new friend and wants to go to the mall. Ain’t no danger in it. So long as she doesn’t spend her entire allowance.”

John swore his Ma still believed that they were children who needed coddling and protection from the world. He had his own feelings about his sister getting older - for one thing, she was infinitely more annoying than he had ever remembered her being - but Billie didn’t need Ma looming over her shoulder at all times.

“Well, who will John spend time with if she’s gone?” Ma asked John Sr., as if neither Billie or John will be present.

“He’s seventeen, he doesn’t want to spend summer nights with his kid sister.” Again, they may as well have not been there. “Am I right, John?”

John inhaled, waiting for a moment of quiet in which he could reply in, before Ma was filling the void. “Oh, all right. Is Lucia’s dad going to pick you up from the mall?”

Billie brightened. “Yes. Eight o’clock on the dot, he said.”

“Then I suppose it’s all right. But I want you home no later than eight thirty.”

“May I be excused?” John asked, looking between his parents.

“Of course,” Ma replied, before immediately turning back to Billie to go over the five new rules she’d just concocted for going to the mall with Lucia.

John cleared his plate, grabbed his beer, his book from off the table by the back door, and made his way back down to his spot at the lake. He still had a couple of hours of daylight left, and even after he finished his book (he was a fast reader) there would be plenty of time for him to just lay by the lake, sipping the remnants of his beer, and enjoying the sounds of the crickets and the lake.

—

Back in Manitowoc, the library had a couple of girls John’s age who worked there part time. While he did enjoy going there to check out something new, he also enjoyed leaning over the counter, smiling with all of his teeth, and asking what their favourite books were. He also enjoyed watching them duck their heads and giggle, and on occasion following them to the very back stacks where their favourite books were not at all located and putting his hands under their skirts while they tried to stifle their moans against his shoulder.

In the town library down at the cottage it was small enough to be staffed by one woman, and that woman was old enough to be his grandmother. John wasn’t opposed necessarily … she just wasn’t his type.

His solitary errand completed for the day (he picked a couple more Stephen King books), John glanced at his watch. It was only ten in the morning.

Letting out a huff, he leaned against the brick exterior of the library and looked up and down the one street the town possessed. So many shops weren’t even opened yet, their proprietors moving as lazily as the out of towners who took over in the summer. John didn’t know much about business or economics (despite Dad’s best efforts), but thought that opening earlier would be more profitable.

Or maybe it wouldn’t. He was just bored out of his skull.

They had six more weeks there.

Books placed in the milk crate at the back, John mounted his bike and began lazily cycling down the street back toward the direction of the cottage, passing by the pizza place. It was open, and John spotted a couple of kids Billie’s age playing Galaga. It felt far too early for a slice, but John wasn’t quite ready to go back to the cottage and get through another book in a day.

Parking his bike outside, John then opened the door to Rush Hour Pizza. What passed for rush hour in this place he would very much like to see. The boys were playing Galaga, one shouting very unhelpful directions at the other, but aside from that the shop was empty, save for the thin blond working behind the counter, her back turned to the entrance. He leaned over the counter, one hand pressed against the linoleum and set his voice to purr.

“Hey pretty thing.”

The blond turned around, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline, blue eyes wide.

Fuck.

“Um.”

“Yeah,” the boy around John’s age supplied, tucking a piece of his long blond hair behind his ear. “My dad’s been saying I should get a haircut.”

He was slender, but not so slender that John should’ve been mistaking him for a girl. John was scarlett with shame, but tried not to let it show, instead just clearing his throat and looking down at the counter for a moment to get his bearings.

“What can I get for ya?” the boy asked.

“Uh,” John replied, finally glancing up. Okay, so he may have been a boy but he was still extremely pretty in a masculine sense. Was that a thing that men were? John had never thought a boy was pretty before. He’d looked at men with curiosity, but never -

“You okay, man?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” John replied. “Can I, uh, get a slice?”

“This early?”

John looked at the boy across the counter incredulously. “It’s … a pizza place. You sell pizza. You’re open.”

“Yeah, but … it’s ten in the morning.”

“Then what …” John trailed off, gesturing to the boys playing Galaga.

The blond boy leaned over the counter, looking at the two younger boys shoving quarters into the arcade cabinet, and then looking back at John. “They’re playing Galaga.”

“I see that they’re playing Galaga. But isn’t this the sort of place where you, I dunno, have to buy something in order to use … the facilities?”

The boy chuckled and John kind of hated him. He stole a glance at the nametag pinned to the boy’s apron - GALE - and then lifted his gaze to his face once more.

“When my dad is here, probably. But I dunno, it’s summer and this place is boring. I don’t care. If they wanna feed quarters into the machines they can go for it. We get their money regardless. At least, that’s what my dad would say. They bought some Cokes about an hour ago,” Gale said. “Pizza’s not even ready yet.”

John blinked. “Then why are you open?”

“Galaga,” Gale replied, pointing at the boys and the arcade cabinet once more. “I was here making the pizzas anyway.”

“So when you asked what you could get me, it was limited to beverages,” John said, letting out a sigh.

“There’s a menu,” Gale said, pointing to the large board above his head. “I can make you a sandwich. Or a sub.”

For the first time, John picks up on Gale’s accent, and cocks his head. “Not from around here, are you?”

“No sir,” Gale replied, leaning against the counter. “Born in South Dakota, grew up in Wyoming.”

“Then what the hell are you doing here?” John asked. Gale opened his mouth to speak and John interrupted him. “If you say ‘Galaga’ one more time -”

Gale laughed, something big and bright, showing all of his perfect fuckin’ teeth. It stretched up to the corners of his eyes and made his nose scrunch up, and John’s face felt strangely warm again. “Change of scenery. Dad got tired of Wyoming.” He tilted his head at John. “You’re not from here either.”

“Well, I’m from Manitowoc. My family summers here.”

“Summers. Fancy,” Gale said a little teasingly, straightening back up. It was far from fancy, but John didn’t correct him. “Can I make you a sandwich or what?”

John reached into his pockets and pulled out his wallet, rifling through his cash. “Yeah. Yeah, sure. Cold cut sub sounds great. Not gonna get on my ass about it being too early for lunch?”

“I would never,” Gale replied with a slow smile.

—

“You were gone long,” Ma said the moment that John walked in through the back door of the cottage, a stack of books under his arm.

John rolled his eyes and placed the books down on one of the side tables next to the couch, which had been serving at his nightstand. “Ma, please.”

“Well, I’m just sayin’ is all,” Ma Egan said defensively, looking up from washing dishes in the kitchen. “Said you were going to the library. Figured you’d be there and back in half an hour or so.”

With an exasperated sigh, John flopped down onto the couch. He wasn’t certain if he could bear even just another day of his mother being overbearing. “Ma, we’re on vacation. I’m almost an adult -” Ma snorted, and John ignored her. “- can you stop hasslin’ me about being a bit longer in town? It’s not like I have anywhere else to be.”

“Now John Egan, I’ve had just about enough of your complaining,” Ma said with a sigh, tossing her washcloth into the sink.

John sat up a little straighter, hands stretched out in front of him, eyebrows raised in confusion. “I haven’t complained once since we got here.”

“Oh yes you have,” Ma Egan said. “Maybe not in so many words, but you’ve been throwing yourself around like a rag doll since you set foot inside this place. Mopin’ about, spendin’ all of your time down at the lake.”

“There’s nothing for me to do here,” John said, and he sounded much whinier than he had meant to. Definitely not an adult.

“Like hell there ain’t,” Ma Egan said, hands on her hips. “Your sister has been makin’ friends up the road, and don’t tell her I ever said it, but you’re far more personable than she is.”

“Ma,” John began, his voice firm and level. “Billie is a kid. There are other kids around. I, your son who is a completely different person, am not a kid. There’s no one my age around here. They’re probably all working jobs. Which is what I wanted to do this summer back home, but you and dad insisted that we all come here. So forgive me for feeling a little bit put out that I’m spending my summer vacation with nothing to do, when I wanted to get a job, make some money for school, and spend time with my friends.”

“And get up to no good,” Ma Egan said quickly.

“Ma -”

“Those boys you pal around with aren’t exactly model citizens.”

“Neither am I,” John muttered, really wishing he had thought to buy a pack of cigarettes while he was in town. He hadn’t thought he would need to take the edge off there, but it was becoming apparent that he would.

“Not if you keep aligning yourself with that lot,” Ma Egan said, stepping into the small living room, cluttered with John’s belongings. “Look, the reason why your father and I insisted that we all come here this summer is that it’ll probably be the last time we all get the chance to.”

“Ain’t no one dyin’, Ma!”

Sighing, Ma sat down next to John on the couch. “John, it ain’t about that. You and your sister are getting older, you’re not going to want to come down here anymore with the whole family. Hell, you already didn’t want to. But next summer you’ll be off to college, or getting a job somewhere, and you won’t be able to make it down. And your father and I aren’t gettin’ any younger.” She paused and reached over, taking one of John’s hands. “Our lives are all going to change one way or another in the coming years, and ain’t nothin’ guaranteed. But we could have this one last time. Some time together. I’m sorry that we dragged you here. But I ain’t sorry that you’re here. You understand me?”

John glanced over at his mother, letting out a small sigh of his own. He loved his family, he did. But he was filled with that sort of unbridled rage that all teenagers feel when they’re on the cusp of adulthood. Even if he couldn’t identify it, quantify it, it was there. He did an excellent job of keeping it to himself for the most part, unless his mother drew it out of him, like she was doing then and there.

He didn’t quite understand her insistence that they all be together at the cottage when they could’ve been together back home. But, agreeing with her in the past had sometimes been a better option than arguing with her, and John couldn’t bear to break her heart with his own teenage angst anymore.

“Yeah, Ma. I understand.”

—

That afternoon, John had found his father, who was working on a truck for one of the newer neighbours up the road. Turns out it had been Billie’s new friend’s father. Billie and Lucia were inside, enjoying some air conditioning and listening to New Kids on the Block, while their two dads stood over the open front hood of the blue Dodge Ram, each holding a beer in their hand. John the Younger managed to lend a hand, which seemed to please his father, who really wanted his son to one day take up the mantle of the family business back home.

John was still undecided if he wanted to be a mechanic or not. In fact, he was still undecided on what he wanted to be at all.

As a thank you, Lucia’s dad suggested they get pizza. John was about to take his leave when Lucia insisted that he stay. John didn’t miss the way that Lucia looked at him, and couldn’t find it in himself to break the girl’s heart, so he agreed. Billie looked equal parts shocked and disgusted, and he later heard her say, “My brother? Seriously? Ew.”

“He’s got a moustache, Billie.”

“Not a good one.”

John was glad he was out of sight, if not out of earshot, rubbing at the hair above his lip absentmindedly. The moustache was a work in progress. He thought it looked just fine. And Deborah Jensen back home in Manitowoc had seemed to be quite fond of it as well.

Lucia’s dad gave him the keys to the newly fixed truck to go pick up the pizzas, and John Sr. reminded him to be on his best behaviour with a truck that wasn’t theirs. John fought the urge to roll his eyes, wanting to be a good guest, and after taking his time to ensure that the mirrors were properly adjusted, hands at ten and two (he knew his dad was watching), John drove ten under the speed limit until he was out of sight.

—

John pulled up to Rush Hour Pizza with a groan, not really in the mood for Gale. He didn’t know why, they’d gotten on well enough that morning. Gale was clearly bored to tears waiting for the pizzas to come out of the oven, so he’d chatted with John from across the restaurant while he ate his sub (it had been really fuckin’ good).

When the bell above the door chimed, Gale popped up seemingly out of nowhere, looking a little bewildered to see John again. “Couldn’t get enough of me?” he asked.

“Very funny,” John said, looking around. The arcade cabinets were abandoned. He supposed it was dinner time, all the neighbourhood kids were probably at home. “I’m just here to pick up a couple of pizzas. My dad’s friend ordered them.”

“Oh yeah. Of course,” Gale said, hands braced against the counter. He paused. “What’s the name?”

John blinked at Gale. “I don’t fuckin’ know.”

“You don’t know your dad’s friend’s name?”

“... Lucia’s Dad?”

Gale chuckled, shaking his head. “Can’t say I recall taking that order, man.”

John sighed, shoulders slumping. “Okay. Well. Are there any orders here?”

“Yeah, a few.” A beat of silence passed between them. “Do you know what he ordered?”

“Pizzas.”

Gale smiled, cocking an eyebrow and folding his arms across his chest. “How in the hell do y’all get by in Manitowoc?”

“I’m beginning to wonder that myself.”

Still smiling, Gale pulled some receipts from a small pile to his right. “Here. We’ll go through them both together. You tell me if any of the names or orders ring any bells.”

“Doesn’t this violate pizza-client privilege or something?” John asked, leaning over the counter slightly to look at the order slips with Gale.

“That’s not a thing.”

Apparently, all twelve people in town had ordered pizzas for pick up that evening. As Gale rattled off names and orders, John realized that the pizza boy didn’t even know his name. It seemed very unfair that he knew Gale’s.

“I’m John,” he said, interrupting Gale mid-sentence.

Gale glanced up at John, blinking slowly. “Well, all right. Hello John. I’m Gale.”

“I know. You have a nametag.”

Gale glanced down at his chest and smiled. “So I do. Forgot I had that on. Okay, where were we? Carlos -”

“That’s it! What’s his last name?” John interrupted excitedly.

“I was gonna get to that, y’know,” Gale said, looking up at John and smiling. “Navarro.”

“That’s the one!” John said, taking the slip from Gale and looking at the order. “One pepperoni, one meat lovers, and one vegetarian.”

“Coming right up,” Gale said, heading toward the back as John pulled cash out of his wallet.

While John waited for Gale to come back with the pizzas, he craned his neck to look into the kitchen. “Do you work here alone?” he called out.

He heard Gale laugh. “Why? Comin’ back to kill me tomorrow night?” he replied, still hidden in the back.

“Not my style,” John replied. “Just … you’re the only pizza place in town it seems, and it’s just you here. Seems like a lot of work.”

Gale returns to the counter with three boxes of pizzas, setting them down and then taking the cash from John. “I like to keep busy. My dad comes in during the rushes, but once the pizzas are actually in the oven the rest is just … transactions. Making sandwiches and stuff like that.”

“Right,” John said, watching Gale as he rang up his order and handed John back the change. John tossed some into the tip jar. He picked up the pizzas and nodded a thanks to Gale, who nodded one back and tucked a piece of his hair behind his ear. John was halfway to the door, before he stopped and turned around. “Gale, what the fuck do people like you and me do around here for fun?”

…

#masters of the air #mota #masters of the air fan fiction #mota fanfic #john bucky egan #gale buck cleven #clegan #bucky x buck #buck x bucky #john egan x gale cleven #1980s summer au #antiquitea.fic

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writerpetals · 1 year

Text

monster in the castle | 🔞

; optional male lead smut | ☁️

w; dragon!au, breeding kink

As a little girl, you always heard stories about the monster that lives high up on the mountain near the village of your home. His castle is surrounded by tall walls and thick trees, and it takes a long, winding road hidden within the forest to get there. As a little girl, you were told never to go near the road, never play near the forest, and to never, ever venture off toward the castle.

Though the monster that lives there is not one that wishes to bring you or the people of your village harm, you were always told there were certain rules to follow when it comes to the castle and your village. Like you and your best friend making a pinky promise you swore to keep forever, there was a similar treaty set in place from hundreds of years before. For a simple price of tending to the monster’s castle from a few volunteer villagers, the monster would ward off any threats that came to your people.

The villagers, of course, never see the monster, but some speculate what it looks like, how many teeth it has, or how quickly it could kill you. The others swear they have spotted the monster in the darkness of the night, when you look to the moon to see a reflection in the clouds. It’s all stories, according to your mother who was almost chosen as the ‘volunteer’ when she was a teenager. Instead, her best friend at the time went to fulfill the village’s duty to the monster, and your mother tells you that day was the last time she ever saw her.

The stories were enough to keep you fearful growing up. You kept your head down so as to not stand out and kept people away as much as you could. You didn’t want to be a target for the ones that choose the so-called volunteer, making you think it was somehow your responsibility for a promise made hundreds of years before you were born.

You were lucky enough to succeed for a while. Whether it be for your lack of drawing attention to yourself or the fact that the castle didn’t need any helpers for a long time, you aren’t sure, but you were thankful to spend at least twenty-something years with your family in the village.

That all changed the day the elders marked you as the sacrificial volunteer. Tears were shed, your mother begged and pleaded for you not to be taken away, but like pinky-promises it is frowned upon to not follow through with the commitment.

Why they chose you out of all the young villagers, you still aren’t sure, but you put on a brave face as a few guards took you to the long, winding road through the dark forest, past the thick trees, and up to the stone castle walls that looked so much higher than you ever imagined. Your heart raced when they told you the wall was as far as they were willing to go. But you were still brave, grabbing your things and passing the threshold to your new life as a servant for a monster you only knew about from stories and gossip.

There was an older woman to greet you at the door to the castle. She told you her name was Mable, and though it sounded familiar, all you could do was smile at her. Fear struck you in the heart, no longer brave but worried about your new life, as well as the old one you left behind. But Mable had many years to adjust, and she took you under her wing, helping you get settled in, explaining the chores you were to do, and most of all, informing you of the castle’s master.

She explained to you the monster wasn’t seen much around the castle. At the time, you were too nervous to ask too many questions, but Mable would fill you in when it was needed. Don’t be out of your sleeping quarters past sundown. Don’t make too much noise in the early mornings. Leave food by the master’s door, but don’t enter. Ever. Don’t go looking for the master. Don’t disrupt the master. Don’t do anything that can draw attention to yourself.

You were pretty good at that. And months passed where you never even saw this mysterious monster. You helped prepare his meals, but left them at the entrance to his quarters, of course. You cleaned when it needed it. You washed linens in the river close by that cuts through the castle’s grounds. You did everything a good servant would do, especially staying out of the way.

All it took was one night to change everything.

A night to leave you a little bored, a little homesick. A night to take you from your bed to the hall to the part of the castle where you were strictly forbidden after sundown. But if everyone else in the castle is fast asleep, the master should be too, you think.

Your bored feet carry you past the main dining hall and to the lonely stairs of the spire. You aren’t sure exactly what is drawing you to this place in the moment, but you can’t stop yourself winding up the spire, the bricks cold beneath your bare feet. You pull your arms to you as you make your way to the top of the tower, feeling a draft the thin, lace nightgown you’re wearing can’t help. Luckily, the torchers are still burning, offering a dim light until you reach the look-out point at the top.

You supposed if this monster is so great and powerful, he doesn’t need too many look-outs, guards, or anything else to protect his castle. You think the thought sarcastically, but a warmth of comfort washes over you unexpectedly. You don’t dwell on the thought for too long, however, finally getting a refreshing new view you haven’t seen in months.

Your eyes settle first on the dark forest just on the outskirts of the castle. Rows and rows of tall trees protect the walls, making you feel so small and alone in the moment. You notice the moon reflecting off the ocean far away, sparkling light dancing along the waves. The sky is covered mostly by clouds, however, and the light is hidden by the shadows once again the moment they consume the moon. The loneliness takes hold of you, releasing a sigh and wishing you could see your family. For such a large castle, everything can feel so small all of a sudden.

Your attention is abruptly pulled from your thoughts of home the moment you see another sparkle in the night’s sky. But this time, it’s not the moon. This time, it whips through the whiteness of the clouds with razer precision. You see a shimmer of black… no, purple, dancing around the moon in between the fog. Your eyes widen the moment a rumble tears through the skies, and if you were far enough away, you would assume it was only thunder from a sudden storm.

Up in the tower, it sounds like a growl. It’s deep and evokes fear, like a warning for anyone and anything to stay away. Your heart races like light lightning, but you can’t peel your eyes from the clouds. Again you see the flash of a deep purple zipping through the sky, between the clouds, doing circles in front of the moon. And the moment the figure appears completely from the clouds is when you are sure you’re going to faint.

The figure appears before you, close enough for you to see individual, glimmering scales on its body. The color is now iridescent, sparkling from the moon and shifting between black, purple, and lilac. A long tail whips past the tower with a crack in the sky as the wide span of its wings fly by, blowing a strong breeze through the windows. Another rumble of the creature’s roar echoes through the skies, vibrating you down to your core and making your knees weak. You’re mesmerized, unable to tear your gaze away from the creature taming the skies. It completes a circle around the castle, disappearing for a moment only to fly back around a second before diving near a lake on the right side of the castle.

The creature disappears once again beneath the waters with a loud splash. If you weren’t so stricken with surprise, you would find the sight humorous looking over the sudden waves of an otherwise still lake, but all you can do is gasp and hold your breath until it surfaces again.

But the creature doesn’t rise. Instead, it’s a human. A man.

You’re practically leaning over the tower’s wall trying to get a better view as the man makes his way to the lake’s edge. He’s dripping wet when he comes out of the water, and much to your surprise, naked. He combs his hands through his hair after shaking his head, trying to get the moisture from the strands. Every inch of him is on display. Every muscle. Every curve. Your heart is racing as you look at him, not bothering to wonder if you should turn away, run back to bed, and pretend it never happened due to you being unable to pull your eyes from this man.

Though he looks ordinary, there’s still something so mesmerizing about him. Regardless of the sight of him in the sky, his human form draws you in, staring at his wet skin glistening beneath the moonlight, the outline of his body, the way his muscles tense when he shakes the water from his hair, and then his smile when he becomes playful all alone.

He’s beautiful. In the moment, he doesn’t seem threatening. You’re amazed by the sight of him, and suddenly your heart aches with a need to be close to him.

You quickly shake the thought from your head. It’s preposterous. He’s a monster. You’re a servant and a human. You shouldn’t be thinking things like this.

Disappearing from the tower’s window, you hurry down the stairs in a rush. You shouldn’t have even been out, you tell yourself. You shouldn’t have broken the rules. Now do you not only know about the castle’s monster, you know about the human as well. You aren’t sure what the monster or Mable would do if they knew, you can only make sure you get back to your room before anyone catches you.

You whip through the main hall, quickly but trying to remain quiet. So far, you don’t hear a peep from anyone else in the castle. The torches are still dimly lit. Maybe Mable is still sleeping in the room next to you instead of awake wondering where you have run off to and just how many rules you have broken.

Your palms press to the door of the servants quarters, pushing the large wood panels open and it’s then when your breath catches in your throat.

There stands the monster in the hall just before the door to your room. He stares at you through his lashes, chin dipped low and arms crossed over his broad, bare chest. He adorns white trousers only, hair still damp from the lake. Your heart is about to leap right out of your chest.

“I thought I saw someone watching me,” he says after a few seconds. The deepness of his voice takes you by surprise. The words rattle your bones and suddenly there’s a warmth spiraling through every inch of you. He takes a step closer. “I clearly remember making it a rule for everyone to be inside by sundown, yet… here you are. Watching me.”

Your mouth opens to speak. He takes another step and you’re speechless. A few more steps and he’s merely a few feet from you. You should be frightened, and you admit part of you is, but somehow your mind can only focus on him being even more beautiful in the warm glow of the dimly lit lanterns on the wall. His lips twist in a smirk, but you only see it a moment before your eyes lower to his chest, taking in every delicious inch of bare skin until your knees feel weak. His strong arms rest beneath, and just beneath that a patch of hair peeks out from the hem of the unbutton, loose trousers.

The sight of him so close simply makes your mouth water. It becomes harder to breathe in his presence. Even harder to think.

“Get back to bed, princess,” he says, half-sarcastically but it still makes your heart rate spike. Your chest heaves, and it’s only now do you notice his eyes fall to take in the sight of you. Your sheer nightgown hardly covers anything at all and you don’t miss the way he licks his lips. “And don’t go up to that tower again.”

“I-I’m sorry…” you finally are able to tell him in the shakiest whisper of a voice you’ve ever heard. “I… I didn’t mean… mean to upset you, I’m… sorry.” Your voice wavers with every word, and somehow it makes him chuckle. Somehow he seems even more human than before.

“Not upset, princess,” he tells you calmly, taking another step and another until he can reach forward to cup your cheek with his large, soft palm. The nickname doesn’t seem so sarcastic a second time, but it still makes your heart skip a beat. “But it’s not safe there at night. You don’t know what lurks beyond the shadows that I would have a hard time protecting you from.”

With that, he lowers his hand and makes you even more speechless. A simple smirk is all he offers before stepping past you to leave the servants quarters, while leaving you standing there with a racing heart, confused as to why you suddenly want to know more about the monster in the castle.

***

A day passes without a word said of your late night adventure meeting the monster. You assume you got away with it up until the moment he asks a specific request of you.

“I’ve never sent someone so new to see him,” she mumbles in a hurry, rushing you to his side of the castle with a tray of food in her arms. “I’m not sure why he’s asked for you. It’s so unlike him.”

You follow along, knowing you’re about to give him his dinner, in his quarters, at the request of him so suddenly. You also know he hasn’t forgotten about you seeing him the night before. Maybe he just needed a day for it to click before he was truly upset about it. Maybe this is you rushing to your punishment for disobeying the rules.

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you, dear,” Mable says, handing off the tray of meats and potatoes with a glass of wine to you. Shakily, you take it from her as she opens the large, heavy door to the monster’s living quarters. “Just… be respectful, of course. The master can have a bit of a temper sometimes. Don’t speak out of line, and don’t inquire about him and you will be fine, okay? It’s not all that scary.”

She has no idea, you want to tell her, but you don’t want her to know about you sneaking out. At least if you die in the next few minutes upon greeting him, Mable can think you were only an innocent bystander in the path of the monster’s rage.

She pushes you gently through the door before closing it behind you with a thud. That thud matches the beating in your chest, pounding hard against your ribs as you take a few wobbly steps forward down the hall. He should be waiting in the dining room just up ahead. You already spot the mahogany table and grand, elaborately carved dining chairs in the next room. The walls, from what you can see as you step forward, are lined with different weapons and animal heads. There’s a slow flicker of a flame lighting the way that doesn’t become much brighter the moment you step into the room.

“Ah,” he interrupts your thoughts, standing from the end of the long table where he was sitting near a fireplace. The wood crackles behind him as it burns, but it only pulls your attention for a second before you notice him making his way toward you. “My dinner is here.”

Your eyes grow wide. “Uh... huh?” You shake your head. He chuckles as he steps toward you, reaching to take the tray from your arms.

“My dinner. Thanks for bringing it to me.”

“Oh, right.” Your cheeks burn with embarrassment, almost too shy to look at him return to his seat by the fire, but once again you just can’t seem to look away.

“Please,” he begins, gesturing toward the chair to his right, “will you join me?” He doesn’t wait for you to move before taking the dishes from the tray. Then he takes a sip of the wine Mable and you prepared for him while you finally will your legs to move toward him. Taking a seat beside him, you watch him unfold the silverware from the clean towel before digging a fork into his food.

You say nothing as he takes a few bites, chewing and humming, sipping his wine. The fire crackles behind the two of you, watching the shadows from the flame dance along his skin. Your heart settles from the nerves as you sit with him for a moment without words, curious as to why he’s asked you to join him, but you remember Mable’s words and say nothing.

“Hungry?” he finally addresses you, causing your brows to arch.

“Wh-Uh… no… no, thank you. We normally eat a bit earlier so we can get to our rooms… before… sun…” Your voice trails off. The last thing you wanted was to give him any reminders of you breaking the rules the night before.

“Before sun down?” He chuckles again, flashing a beautiful smile and for some reason, your heart melts right in your chest.

For so long you were told fearsome tales of the monster in the castle. For so long, you were warned of his cruel behaviors, bad temper, and animal ways. They told you gruesome stories to keep the young ones scared and the fact that no one that went to the castle ever came back made it easy to believe.

However, he makes it seem like every story was an exaggeration of something that started as a lie. Though you broke the rules and should be worried of punishment, you feel calm in his presence. He laughs and eases the tension between the two of you. He seems polite enough. Not to mention his gentle touch against your cheek, something that you can still feel tingling against your skin if you think about it hard enough.

He isn’t a monster at all.

“I’m sorry about that,” you say, lowering your head.

“I’m not upset, truly, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

The words cause you to meet his eyes. “Then why is it a rule not to be out?” you ask, growing bold before you can stop yourself. “Why did you invite me here now if not to punish me?”

He smirks before taking another bite from his plate. “Like I said-” He chews a few times, then takes a sip of wine. “-easier to protect everyone here if they’re not rambling around at night. And if it’s a punishment you’re wanting, princess… we can make arrangements.”

Instantly your cheeks begin to burn. Your eyes lower and you can’t even look at him, allowing the words to process in your mind before they repeat like a broken record. You aren’t sure why he has such an effect on you. It makes your mind fuzzy and your body warm. Part of you wishes you could replace it with actual fear of him to make things easier, but the rest of you realizes the rush of adrenaline it gives you.

“Princess?” you ask him in a whisper. He is a King of his own castle, you remember. Maybe he’s using the nickname to tease you because you’re certainly not royalty. You don’t even have to meet his eyes to see the smirk on your lips. It’s as if it’s burned in your memory now.

“Do you wish to be called something else?” he asks with a nonchalant tone.

It’s not something you have ever thought to be called, but coming from him, with his deep voice drawing you in, you can’t say you mind. All you can do is shake your head.

“Good,” is all he says, and a few more moments pass with no words. Only the fire fills the silence as he finishes his meal. “But if I may ask, why were you wandering around the castle all alone?”

The question catches you off guard. Straightening your back, you take a deep breath before giving him the honest answer. “I felt a little homesick, I guess. I wanted to know if I could see my home from the top of the castle… I couldn’t.”

He stops eating entirely to take in your face, fallen with sorrow. “Homesick?”

You nod your head and he goes back to finishing the few bites he has left on his plate. “I miss my family. I didn’t realize how lonely I would feel here.”

He takes in your words with a serious expression. Then a slight wrinkle between his brows tells you he understands. There’s not much either of you can do, however. The deal was set in place long before you, and many have had to fulfill the promise. You are only doing what so many had to do before you, and will have to after. Even if he could somehow offer you to go back home, what would everyone in the village think? Elders that had to say goodbye to their own children wouldn’t even accept you because it’s a responsibility for all that only a few have to bear.

“I’m sorry,” is all he says, and from his low tone, you know he means it. It can’t be any easier for him, either. Everyone is told to stay away from him when they arrive. He spends all of his time alone. From what you can tell, he only talks to Mable through a door and doesn’t wish to see anyone at all.

Well, except for you. Which you still aren’t sure why.

“I… guess I understand what being lonely feels like.” He lowers his eyes, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Why?” you ask before you can stop yourself, earning his eyes on you once again. “Why do you close yourself off from everyone? Do you… do you know what people down in the village think about you?” He should be considered a hero due to the fact he protects so many people. The rumors floating around about him have been proven here and now that they are just that.

“I’m aware,” he sighs, then throws his head back and slumps in his chair. “I know the tales of the monster in the castle. I know people are scared of me. I know they think I will hurt or kill them if they get too close.”

“Well, you’re not hurting me…” Before you can help it, you reach for him, placing a hand over his own as it rests on the table. His brows arch. He’s surprised at the gesture. “Why choose to be so lonely?”

“Because…” He sighs once again, attempting to get his thoughts in order. “I had someone I was close to. I spent a lot of time with them. They were my friend, but one day I let my temper get out of control and…”

He doesn’t need to say the rest. You realize where he’s going with the story. He hurt someone close to him, so now he keeps himself locked away, allowing the rumors to grow and strengthen, and allowing himself to be lonely. All the while keeping everyone safe from the horrors that stalk the nights.

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” is all he can say. A few seconds of silence pass before he adds, “that’s why I invited you here. I was lonely. I saw you that night looking at me. I saw your face when you saw who I really was. I knew you weren’t scared of me.”

It takes a few seconds for the words to sink in before a comforting warmth swells inside of you. You were right to feel safe with him, because he feels safe with you. You never expected to see such a vulnerable side to such a big, powerful beast, but he makes you understand him better, and he understands you.

“I’m glad you did,” you tell him, watching his lips curve in a smile.

***

You don’t hear from him for a few days after that. He stays hidden away, and you busy yourself with keeping the castle tidy as well as helping Mable with the meals. Sometimes, you find yourself traveling up the tower before sundown for a chance to see him soaring through the sky like the first night, but he never comes. You suppose it’s due to not wanting to be seen by the villagers, or anyone else in the castle, but you don’t want to risk the rules by staying any later just to get a glimpse of him.

However, one night, just as the curve of the sun disappears behind the lines of trees in the distance, you turn to make your way to your own quarters when you spot him at the top of the stairs.

“Breaking rules again, princess?” He smirks while making his way toward you.

“N-No… I was just leaving…”

“You must really want the punishment,” he chuckles, stopping right in front of you, “huh, princess?”

You gulp, noticing the darkness in his tone taunting you. Though it’s not with fear, but with desire. The words tempt you, and the only intimidating thing about him in the moment is how badly your body begins to crave him. It’s like a switch the second you see him. Your body comes alive. Heat swells from the depths. He leaves you breathless and weak and wanting more of him all at once. You aren’t sure how he does it.

You’re drawn to him.

“Answer me, princess.” He reaches to cup your cheek just like the first night you met. His touch is gentle even if the words are firm. His stern tone snaps you back to reality.

“I-I…” All you can do is give in to the desire, the way he makes you feel, the desperate need to get close to him in any way you can. “Yes…” The word is a trembling whisper from your tongue, but he hears it. He realizes in the way you speak as well as the way you lean into his touch what you’re wanting.

Two lonely souls wanting to feel close to something. Two people desiring warmth and love and comfort. Neither of you can blame the other for it, but both of you can be there for each other.

He drops his hand to grip you by the hips in an instant. He pulls you close to his body, allowing you to feel the heat radiating off of his embrace. It only takes seconds for his lips to fall to your own, and you allow him in. The softness of his flesh, the warmth in the kiss, takes you by surprise while taking hold of all your senses. You’re wrapped up in him as the kiss deepens, not being able to stop yourself from moaning against his mouth. You’ve never wanted something or someone so much until this very moment.

He makes it clear he wants the same. The beast within him comes to light in different ways. He takes hold of you while kissing you passionately, hands roaming your body, fingers finding the hem of your dress until he slips it off your shoulders to fall at your feet. You’re bare before him and have never felt more alive. He takes a second to look over your body, groaning at the sight he sees until not touching you isn’t an option anymore.

He takes hold of you once again. Arms wrapping around his body, you allow him to take control as you release little whimpers and moans here and there from your mouth. His lips trail down your cheek, your jaw, to your neck, kissing and sucking and licking just to get every part of you he can. Meanwhile his hands explore your bare flesh, slipping around to your ass to hold you in place with a strong grip.

Your head falls back, giving him any and all access to your body in the moment. He seizes the opportunity until he’s falling to his knees. His kisses meet your flesh once again, trailing from your chest to your stomach down to the little V between your thighs. Opening up for him, your body presses to the walls of the tower while his tongue presses to your skin.

You exhale his name the moment his mouth dives between your trembling thighs. He keeps his grip on your ass with one hand, the other tossing your leg over his broad shoulder. He can’t help but to groan at the taste of you, finally becoming close and intimate with someone after so long.

“You taste amazing, princess,” he groans between your thighs, craning his neck to lick from your dripping entrance to your clit once again. All you can do is whimper his name beneath your breath, so lost in the moment, in the pleasure. Your hands fall to his head, fingers disappearing between the strands of hair before pulling tightly. “So sweet and all mine, princess.”

His voice rumbles between your legs, not wasting a moment to tell you how he feels. He tends to your body, using his mouth to offer pleasure in ways you’ve never felt before. He lashes out at your soaked pussy, gathering up all the juices that have dripped out because of him before drawing his tongue back to your clit. There he licks and sucks and massages your flesh until your head becomes dizzy. So skilled with his tongue, he doesn’t waste a single second making you go wild, driving you to the brink of release until you can take no more.

The pleasure comes in red hot waves through your body. It takes hold of every inch as you begin to tremble, but he doesn’t let you go. He continues tasting you, licking you, fucking you with his tongue to lick up every single drop of your release until he’s groaning once again.

The moment you begin to grow weak in his hold is when he finally pulls his mouth away. You dare to look down at him, seeing his expression darkened with lust, his mouth glistening in the dim lighting from your arousal. He never pulls his eyes away from your own as he presses kisses to your mound to soothe your body, helping you come down from the high and back to reality.

He rises to his feet before pulling his shirt over his head, all before tugging on the buttons and ties to his trousers. You stare at him in a lust filled haze, so entirely spent, yet wanting more, wanting to feel him inside of you. Noticing the thick line from his arousal in his pants, your body yearns for him, growing even more anxious until the moment he pushes the trousers down to unveil his hard, awaiting cock for you.

“Com’ere, princess…” He guides your body closer before turning you around completely right in front of a window to the tower. Your hips press into the cold stone, but the contrast between his large, warm hands on your body thrills you in the moment. “Going to fuck you, princess… going to make you mine.”

“Please…” is all you can manage, completely overwhelmed by the promise from his lips. He pulls you by the hips, pressing his thick, hardened cock against your ass.

“Want that, princess?” he groans, feeling you roll your hips against him, already so eager and wanting more. “Want me to fuck you and fill you with my cum?”

“Yes,” you gasp before you can even stop the word falling from your lips. The thought of him fucking you and spilling inside of you drives you wild. To feel his hot, thick release filling you up makes you bend forward, ass rising, legs spread so his cock is now against your dripping, soaked slit already ruined from his tongue.

“Let me hear you say it,” he commands just as he begins to line the tip of his cock to your entrance, “tell me what you want, princess.”

“Fuck me,” you say desperately, no time to worry over the sound of your own voice or insecurities, “please, fuck me and fill with me with your cum. Make me yours.”

The monster practically growls at the words. He wastes no more time sinking his cock inside of your heat, stretching you out, making you gasp and moan and whimper profanities under your breath. He allows you to adjust for a moment, and only begins to pull out and thrust into you when he feels you rock your hips against him, ready for more. He begins fucking you like he promised, like you wanted, long, deep strokes of his cock into your pussy stealing the breath right out of your lungs. He feels so big inside of you, and it drives you wild to know what he truly is, to know how strong and powerful of a monster he can become, while he’s fucking you. Suddenly you want to submit to him, give him anything he wants in return for his pleasure. You give in to him completely, letting him take over you entirely as he pumps himself into you over and over.

He suddenly takes hold of you in different ways, taking your body with an arm around your ribs, the other sliding a hand up to your throat.

“Let them hear you, princess,” he instructs once again, pressing a careful grip on the sides of your neck, “let them hear you scream my name as I fuck you, as I fill you up with my cum.”

“Please,” you cry out along with a gasp of his name, not caring about who can hear or any other dangerous creatures of the night. You have him, and he will keep you safe. You give yourself to him. You become his and only his in the moment. Your voice wavers as you cry out for him, but you moan it just as loud as before, feeling the bliss of his cock so deep inside of you.

“Again,” he orders you, his voice now strained on his tongue. You’re aware he’s getting just as close as you, but he keeps his composure in the moment, dropping the hand around your ribs to your ass with a single, solid smack against your flesh. Your body jerks, but instantly warmth floods every inch. In the moment, you realize you find pleasure not only with him inside of you, but with him making you his in any way he can. You want to be used by him because it feels too good, want him to fuck you and fill you up and do it whenever, wherever he wants.

“Please,” you cry again, tears beginning to trickle behind your eyelids from the overwhelming pleasure. “Please… come inside of me…”

Hearing the words, he can hold out no longer. He takes a final breath, a final groan, and topples over the edge of bliss. He spills his cum inside of your walls, filling you with his seed as you begin to tremble from your own pleasure. His release is hot inside of you, feeling his cock twitch as he gives you every single drop.

He pulls out of you with a heavy sigh, just as spent as you, breathless beyond belief. But he doesn’t take too long to recover. Gently, he spins your bare body around to face him, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips as his hand falls between your thighs. Without warning, he eases two of his fingers inside your pussy, sinking into the mix of his cum and your juices. He pushes his release into your body as it begins to drip down your slit, making sure not to waste a single drop.

“Princess,” he says softly, his tone gentle, his voice comforting. You stare into his eyes as he fucks you with his fingers, lids fluttering as the bliss swells, lips parting to softly whimper. “I’m going to make you come again with my cum deep inside of you.”

The words leave you shaking. You feel so alive with him in the moment. He does everything right. As if the two of you were made for one another.

You can only brace yourself against his bare shoulders, hands pressing to the softness of his warm skin. He buries his fingers inside of you before pressing his thumb to your clit. You’re already trembling from being fucked by him, you know it won’t take much longer. He pulls you into a kiss once more, allowing you to moan against his lips and become lost in the moment once again.

You become lost in his arms, the pleasure taking hold once more. Heat begins to rise, so on edge already as he circles your clit and sinks his fingers into you deep. All you can do is whimper his name and dig your nails into his skin, knees trembling, body aching for another release.

And he gives it to you. The bliss comes crashing down around you, lightning from his touch surging through your body. You cry out and roll your hips against his hand, allowing the overwhelming moment control once again. Your chest heaves and he kisses your neck through your pleasure, again and again and again until you finally begin to come down.

Then he kisses your lips softly, gently, taking his time to savor the feel of your skin against his own. He pulls you close, letting you know you’re his now, his princess, and he will keep you safe so you don’t have to feel lonely any longer.

#bts smut #marvel smut #call of duty smut #twilight smut #harry potter smut #jungkook smut #loki smut #nct smut #got7 smut #monsta x smut #stray kids smut #harry styles smut #ghost smut #jimin smut #taehyung smut #x reader #x reader smut

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ckret2 · 6 months

Text

Chapter 25 of human Bill is the Mystery Shack's prisoner and somehow befriended Mabel: in which Bill and Mabel make friendship bracelets. It's heartwarming. Bill is not, I repeat, not secretly up to anything nefarious.

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the chapter, Bill is secretly up to something nefarious.

####

"I'll be back in exactly one hour," Ford said. "Be finished showering by then. You've got everything you need, as well as..." He looked disdainfully at a baggie of shampoo and conditioner sample bottles, "your gift from the Northwests."

Bill eyed the Northwests' little care package skeptically. Four entire separate products that were supposed to be used all in one shower. He was drowning in mammal-cleaning slimes. What a waste of his time. "You don't expect me to use allthis junk, do you?"

"Frankly, as long as you aren't bald and don't smell like gnome urine in an hour, I don't care what happens between now and then."

"You're the most merciful warden I've ever had, Stanford."

Ford wasn't sure if that was supposed to be sarcasm or an awkward glimpse into Bill's sordid history, so he just shut the bathroom door. "One hour."

"One hour!" Bill waited until he couldn't hear Ford's footsteps; and then he turned on the shower, fished a crushed cider can and eight candles out of his hoodie, and stood on the wooden crate by the window.

Over the last few days, he'd spent every spare private moment using toothpaste and toilet paper to polish the bottom of the can into a perfect, shining, concave mirror. Now, he held it up to the window with one of the candles, using the mirror to focus the sun into a point on the wick of the candle... and...

It took a couple minutes of agonizing patience, but finally the wick smoked and then ignited. Yes. Moving carefully so he wouldn't douse the flame, he used the burning candle to melt the bottoms of the other candles just enough to stick them to the floor, lit them in turn, and in the middle Bill quickly made a (frankly terrible) drawing of Kryptos by finger painting with a tube of toothpaste.

And then he knelt in front of the candle circle, and—quietly enough that the shower covered the sound—he started chanting.

Some humans called Bill a dream demon. It wasn't exactly wrong, even if calling him a dream demon was kind of like naming the entire human race "the mountain bikers."

Which was to say, if Bill was a "dream demon," then so were the rest of his people. The other surviving shapes could cast themselves like shadows onto the walls and floors of other dimensions, slip through the cracks in reality that were too thin to accommodate the depths of three-dimensional creatures, and wander through the higher dimensions' mindscapes.

It was just that it was only one of their many side hobbies rather than their main pursuit as a species—and not a particularly popular hobby, at that. Most shapes weren't into taking safaris through aliens' dreams.

Out of the shapes Bill still hung out with, Hectorgon wouldn't do it; he appreciated why Bill went on his psychic excursions for the everyone's benefit, but skulking in a higher plane's second dimension made Hectorgon feel voyeuristic—and he'd only gotten more uncomfortable with the idea since his three-dimensional makeover. Bill could wheedle a majority of Amorphous Shape into a sightseeing trip once a millennium or so, but they were just a passive tour group who would be lost without Bill as their tour guide. Kryptos alone had taken enough of an interest in alien mindscapes to make the leap from "occasional tourist" to "frequent traveler." He was the only one other than Bill who spent enough time on Earth to network with the locals; and he was the only one other than Bill who had bothered to set up a summoning ritual, in case an earthbound buddy wanted to ring him up for a party.

Kryptos's party line was going to be Bill's salvation.

Which was a shame, because Bill just knew Kryptos would be annoying about this for the next million years. He'd worry about finding a way to bully Krypt into not lording it over him after he was safely back home in the Quadrangle of Qonfusion.

But when Bill called, nothing happened.

That wasn't right. Nothing wasn't supposed to happen. Even if Krypt didn't pick up, Bill should feel the spell working. The sound of the shower should pause. The air should go still and cool. Everything should be gray.

Bill opened his eyes. Nothing was gray. He checked each candle to make sure they were all lit, checked his drawing to make sure it looked right—it wasn't exactly flattering, but the lines were straight and the angles were correct, and anyway it was recognizable enough to work for the summoning. He remembered the words, he knew he remembered the words.

Try again. He shut his eyes. "Rhombus sapphirinus. Fraternitas, caritas, veritas. Te invoco, te invito." And then, not because it was necessary but because he was getting mad, he tacked on, "Responde mihi, quadrum defututum! Culum tuum calcitrabo!"

Nothing. The world went on un-paused. Bill remained awake. He opened his eyes to the vibrant, colorful, tragically real world around him.

It didn't make sense. Even without his powers, he should be able to reach Kryptos. Any human could do this ritual, and Bill knew a whole lot more than any human. Either Kryptos was dead (unlikely; but without Bill there...), or something was blocking Bill. The block could be inside him—maybe the Axolotl was sealing off even this paltry little magic—or outside, some sort of shield blocking the mindscape. But whatever the source, the result was the same:

He couldn't get a call out. Nobody, not even his oldest friends, could hear him.

He stared at Kryptos's ugly mug for a long moment; then blew out the candles, hid them and the crushed can back in his hoodie, used toilet paper to wipe the toothpaste and wax off the floor, and got in the shower.

If he wanted to get out, he had to make new friends. He'd been making some good progress lately, particularly with Mabel. Perhaps it was time to test just how far her compassion could get him.

####

Prisma the Rainbow Fairy said, "Gee, Sunny Cat, I haven't seen you spending time with Teddy Tender lately. What happened?"

"He's a killjoy," Bill said, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the TV. "He's a wet blanket."

A sunshine-yellow bipedal cat said, "Teddy's so sad today, and it's making me sad. I don't want to hang out with him when he's like this!"

"That's what I said," Bill said. Heckling the characters helped distract him from the urge to scratch the exposed skin on his arms until he scraped it off his bones. After showering, his hoodie had been confiscated for a round of emergency post-eye-bat-repellant laundry, and he was temporarily back in a reject gift shop t-shirt. He felt exposed.

Prisma said, "Sometimes when our friends are sad, all they need is another friend to give them a hug or tell them they care. It'll help them feel happier."

"I don't know," Sunny said. "When I feel sad, being around other people makes me feel worse."

"Everyone's a little different, Sunny. Why don't you offer to hold his hand and see if that makes him happier?"

"I guess I could try."

"Nah, it's too late for Teddy," Bill told the TV. With some glee, he added, "The most caring thing you could do is put him out of his misery."

Mabel, sitting up on the couch with three colors of embroidery floss tangled around her fingers, lightly kicked the back of Bill's head. He grinned wider. Mabel said, "Bill, I don't think you're taking this seriously."

"Was I supposed to?"

"It's a beautiful June day and I'm inside with you, so you could at least pretend to. I thought you were a good liar."

"I've never told a lie in my life," lied Bill. "But okay, fine. I've seen the error of my ruthless ways. Maybe there's hope for Teddy yet."

Mabel nodded, mollified. She set aside her current project and rummaged through her bag of embroidery floss. "Hey Bill, what's your favorite color?"

"Gold!"

"Why did I ask. What's your next favorite color?"

"Every color simultaneously superimposed over each other, instantly blinding you!"

Mabel tried to picture that. She imagined a rainbow that was also a laser that was also iridescent. Her mental image looked a lot like Prisma's combat magic. "You have such good taste."

"It takes good taste to recognize good taste!" Bill mentally reviewed the last couple minutes of conversation, saw an opportunity to bolster the "reforming monster" image he was trying to sell to Mabel, and added, "By the way—thanks for sticking around just to keep me entertained!" (See: he can say thank you unprompted.) "This sure isn't where I'd want to spend my afternoon," he laughed wryly, "but unlike me, you have a choice in the matter."

"Yeah," Mabel sighed. "It stinks. I wish you could go outside with me."

Bill quietly, smugly filed that statement away for later use.

Mabel pulled a couple fresh rolls of embroidery floss out of her bag and got to work with them. "We can't set off fireworks inside the shack. Or play with Soos's paintball guns."

Bill's smugness vanished, leaving behind only the hollow feeling of missing out on a lot of fun. Fireworks and paintball guns. Those were three of his favorite things: explosions, colors, and interpersonal violence.

Mabel went on, "And Candy's saved up three years of Magic Vision Poster calendars to wallpaper the inside of her closet. She read online that if you cross your eyes just right to make them all look 3D at the same time, you can hallucinate going inside them! We're gonna try it out tomorrow. That seems like something you'd like."

"What!" Bill groaned. "I've always wanted to see an autostereogram poster with two eyes! Now here I am, stuck in a stupid meat body, and I don't even get to enjoy the only thing binocular vision is good for?"

Mabel patted his shoulder.

"Back home I've got a chair with autostereogram detailing. I've never actually seen it work. And where is it when I've got two eyes?"

"I think they've got Magic Vision books in the kids' section at the library," Mabel said. "Do you want me to check one out for you?"

Bill glared at the TV, silently fuming. Then he muttered, "Yeah. I'd like that. Thanks."

The low-stakes drama on Color Critters was resolved when Sunny asked Teddy Tender if he wanted to maybe hug or hold hands until he felt less sad, and Teddy revealed he felt bad because he was lonely when he hadn't had a play date with a friend in a while. Sunny and Teddy went to the playground together, the gray swings and slide and seesaw blooming orange and yellow as they played. Crisis of the day concluded. Prisma watched proudly, before joining in the play herself. Bill was not jealous of their freedom to go to the playground.

As the credits rolled, Mabel said, "There! Give me your hand!"

Bill stuck his right arm straight out to his side. "Why—?"

Mabel wrapped something thin around his wrist, and there was a quick tug as she tied it off. "Bam! You just got friendshipped!"

"What?" Bill pulled back his wrist to examine Mabel's handiwork. It was a bracelet made out of embroidery floss knotted together into a flat band as wide as his thumb. "What is this?" Stupid question.

"A friendship bracelet!" (Of course it was a friendship bracelet; he was passingly familiar with the art form, he'd seen it centuries before they were called "friendship" bracelets.) "Make a wish."

He wished to get his body back.

"You've gotta wear the bracelet until it breaks, and then the wish'll come true."

And if he believed that, he'd already be chewing through the knot. "And, why am I getting this?"

"Because we're friends!"

"Oh." Well. Yes. Obviously.

He examined the bracelet more closely. The band formed a zig-zag pattern of black and metallic gold triangles; and Mabel had tied glass beads that looked like eyes over several of the gold triangles.

"I didn't have every color simultaneously, but I thought the black would make the gold pop." Mabel pointed at the triangles. "Look! It's you."

"I can see that." She'd used nazar beads for the eyes—a dot of black ringed in blue and white. A little eye-shaped lucky charm humans had been using to ward off the evil eye for millennia. Cute. He laughed, pointing at the beads. "So is this supposed to protect me from the evil eye, or am I the evil eye you're protecting everyone else from?"

Mabel was thirteen. Mabel hadn't put any deeper thought into it than these look like eyes. All the same, Mabel didn't hesitate before replying: "I'm turning your face into a protective charm! Now you've got to keep everyone safe!"

"Oh." And that, too, Bill quietly filed away.

"I expect you to take your new job seriously," Mabel said, pointing at him. "Don't let me down!"

"You give me a gift with my face on it and then tack on a bunch of extra terms and conditions. Very slick, kid." He admired the bracelet. It really was a pretty fine offering. He hadn't been gifted textiles in a while. "But all right! I've never gone back on a deal before," lied Bill.

Though it galled him to get something without a way to pay back the favor. It felt uneven. People don't want a god who grants miracles worth less than the tribute he'd been offered. He ran down his usual list of tricks—he couldn't snap his fingers and summon up a dream gift, he didn't have any useful info he could offer without prompting an interrogation session with his jailers, right now he couldn't even call somebody else to pull some strings on her behalf... His gaze drifted over to Mabel's bag of embroidery threads. He could see beads and a couple more friendship bracelets inside. "How many of these are you making?"

"A bunch! I'm giving one out to each new friend I make this summer."

That'd do. "Teach me."

"You what?"

"Teach me." He turned around to face the couch and pointed toward the bag. "You're making them anyway, right? Just show me as you go."

Mabel stared at him in disbelief. Was he serious? She thought he was serious.

A broad smile stretched across her face. "Okay!" She dug beneath her supplies for a little dog-eared friendship bracelet pattern book. "What kind of jewelry making experience do you have? Especially involving beads or knots."

"I can tie a living creature's blood vessels into quipu knots that spell my name—all without breaking the skin!"

"That's great! Can you do it with embroidery floss instead of blood vessels."

Bill eyed the bundle of floss Mabel held out. "Yes."

"Perfect!" She shoved four thread colors in his hands, a pair of scissors, a jar of pony beads, thought better and quickly took back the scissors, and added a roll of parachute cord. "I'll teach you everything I know. Even my secret trick to keep the edges from going all wobbly! We'll start you on chevrons and then move up to teardrop loops and triangle ends." She put her hands on Bill's shoulders, looked him in his uncovered eye, and said, "I'm gonna make you a friendship bracelet master."

Solemnly, Bill said, "I'm ready."

####

Ford squinted blearily into the living room.

Sitting alone on the far side of the room, Bill was bent over the living room table, fussing with several multicolored strings and a few beads.

Bill glanced at Ford from the corner of his eye, and then—with a faint smirk—turned back to his project without a word. Oh, he wanted Ford to ask. He was dying for Ford to ask.

It was too early for this. Ford wasn't dealing with it before coffee. He shook his head and shuffled onward to the kitchen.

Stan was already up, eating eggs with some unidentified liquid meat poured over them. Over the past year, typically Ford had been the earlier riser; but this summer Stan had gotten used to Ford pulling late nights downstairs as he worked on his research, so he didn't comment on Ford's sleeping in as he poured himself a mug of coffee.

But Stan did look at Ford's face and immediately ask, "Okay. What's the latest Bill bullsh... soup? Bullsoup."

"He's..." Ford tried to figure out what Bill was doing. "Making jewelry in the living room, I think."

Stan grunted and nodded. "Yeah, he was doing that yesterday with Mabel."

"Well, now he's doing it by himself."

Stan raised a brow.

The Stans leaned around the living room doorway to watch Bill.

Bill was engrossed with picking out a mis-tied knot, frowning deeply in concentration, one eye squeezed shut and the other squinted. He smoothed out the thread, his face relaxed; and then he glanced at the doorway, did a double take, and his shoulders went up around his ears. "What am I, a zoo attraction? Shoo! Scat!" He waved them away. "I'll throw salt at you!"

Ford raised his palms defensively. Stan said, "Okay okay, we're going."

They retreated to the kitchen.

"Well?" Stan pressed. "Is he up to dangerous voodoo stuff?"

"I'm fairy certain Bill doesn't practice Vodou."

"Answer the question, smart aleck."

Ford ran through every form of magic incorporating strings or knots he could think of. It was a pretty short list, and most of it was used for protection or binding separate things together. "Not that I know of," he said dubiously. "But it's more likely he's up to something I don't know about than it is that he's doing arts and crafts. Don't you think?"

Stan considered that. He shrugged. "Eh," he said. "It can wait 'til after coffee."

Eh. Ford was tired. He didn't want to go to red alert over some string and plastic beads. He sat down with his mug.

####

"I'm home!" Mabel called. "Biiill, I couldn't get you a Magic Vision book! The pictures in Candy's closet started moving, and I don't know if we were hallucinating or if we accidentally summoned an invisible holographic horse you can only see when you cross your eyes, so we decided to burn the posters and library books to be safe! Do you know if Magic Vision Posters summon things...?"

"I wish," Bill said. "But hey, I've got something better. Gimme your hand."

Mabel held out her hand, half pulled it back, and said, "Why?"

"Relax." Bill grabbed her wrist, tied on a bracelet, and said, "Make a wish!" He grinned. "You're impressed, admit it. Tell me you're impressed."

Mabel studied the bracelet. "Whoa." Purple, green, and orange threads formed lacy loops around a central thread, forming an endless wave that rolled up and down. The threads passed through several star-shaped pony beads, making the wave look like the tails of shooting stars. "A Peruvian wave with a perfectly straight center cord. That takes crazy precise string tension." She looked at Bill. "I have nothing more to teach you."

"Thank you, teacher."

"Is this supposed to look like my sweater?" Mabel asked, studying the pink in the tassels tying the bracelet on. "The one on your zodiac thing?"

"Sure! You gave me one that looks like me, I gave you one that represents you. Friendship's supposed to go both ways, right?"

"Bill! Is this why you wanted to learn to make friendship bracelets?"

"Am I that obvious?"

"Biiill! You're being so nice!" Mabel flung her arms around him. "I love it!" And then she took off, running laps around the living room, cackling madly and waving her braceleted arm in the air. Abuelita, who'd been watching TV, calmly turned to watch Mabel zoom around.

Oh, this was great. Look at this, Bill was the best at being a friend. Everyone who'd ever ditched him was a moron who didn't know what they were missing out on. They could've gotten personalized friendship bracelets. Maybe he should have offered Ford a friendship bracelet? No, that was stupid, why would Ford prefer a friendship bracelet over unimaginable cosmic power. But then it didn't have to be either-or, did it? Ford's favorite color was red, what went with red?

When Mabel had gotten the enthusiasm out of her system, she trotted back out to the entryway and hugged Bill again. He endured it. "You won't stop making friendship bracelets now that you've made this, will you?" Mabel asked. "You're such a natural at it! And you need more hobbies that are constructive instead of destructive."

"Ouch, kid. I'll have you know I have plenty of constructive hobbies."

"I don't believe it. Name one thing you like creating."

"Weirdness bubbles."

"Name one thing you like creating that doesn't terrify people."

Bill pursed his lips. "Agree to disagree. Anyway, I'm not getting out of the friendship bracelet game just yet. In fact, I've already got another few projects in mind."

####

Bill plopped down at the kitchen table across from Mabel. "Hey star girl. Guess what."

She looked up from her cereal at the dark rings under Bill's eyes. He had one eye squeezed shut; he could usually keep both open when he'd just woken up. "Were you up all night?"

"Doesn't matter. Time is an illusion and I can see the projector. I'm counting that as your guess. Look." Bill tossed two matching bracelets down on the table between them, deep watermelon pink and minty green, shaped like macrame chains with hearts where each link of the chain met.

"Aww, little hearts."

"Thought you'd like the hearts."

Mabel picked up one end of the bracelet and slipped it on—and then noticed the long coil of embroidery floss connecting the end of one bracelet to the other. "Bill? What's this for?"

"Didn't you say a few days ago that you wished we could go outside together? I thought up a perfect solution!"

With a sudden sense of dread, Mabel realized that the chain pattern and the string connecting the bracelets made them look like an extremely long pair of handcuffs; but before she could take off her half, Bill picked up the other bracelet and said, "There's a little magic in these, look. When both ends are being worn—" He slipped on the bracelet, and Mabel felt its matching pair gently tighten around her wrist. The string connecting them vanished into thin air.

Mabel gasped. "What—?"

"Poof! It's like a ghost: still there, but invisible to human eyes. We could even go into separate rooms and it'll connect us through the walls." He demonstrated by waving his hand under the table. "But we can't get farther apart than the length of the thread. I gave it about ten yards." He plucked up something invisible and gave it a tug, and Mabel felt the bracelet go taut against her wrist. There was no force, no matter how hard Bill tugged she didn't feel like the bracelet was pulling her; rather, it felt like the other end of the thread was tied to an immobile boulder preventing her from moving further away, until she moved her hand closer to Bill's to give the thread a little slack. "And..."

Mabel tried to jerk the bracelet off her wrist; it stuck around her hand. "How do I get it off?! Bill—!"

Bill put a finger on her hand, stopping her. He said, "Neither of us can take our end off until we both decide we're ready. Like... now." He winked; and the bracelet suddenly loosened again.

Mabel pulled it off with a sigh of relief.

"Unless one of us dies or something, I guess," Bill said thoughtfully. "That'd deactivate the magic. It'd be pretty gristly to have to keep sharing a friendship bracelet with a corpse!" He laughed. "Anyway—"

Mabel chucked the bracelet in his face. "That was mean!"

Bill blinked in surprise. "What was?"

"You tricked me!" She cradled her wrist against her chest, heart still pounding from the brief unexpected captivity.

"I did not!" He took the bracelets back and started coiling up the thread between them. "You put yours on before I even said anything."

"But you could have warned me before you got us stuck together!"

"Sure, I could have, but would you have kept it on then?"

"No, you jerk. That's the point!" She looked around for something else to chuck at Bill's face, plucked a dry piece of cereal from her bowl, and flicked it at his nose.

Bill endured his punishment without flinching. "Well, sorry, but I had to demonstrate how they work somehow." He twirled the bracelets around one fingertip. "This solves your whole 'can't let the big scary triangle out unsupervised' problem! Slap these bad boys on, and I've got automatic supervision that I can't escape! Maybe this'll convince the adults that I can be trusted outside, right?" He ate the piece of cereal. "So? What do you think?"

She thought he was still a jerk. All the same, she studied the chain bracelets. "Did you just make me a gift that's actually a gift for yourself?"

He didn't even look a little bit ashamed. "I prefer to think of it as something we'll both benefit from!"

"Bill."

"C'mooon. You know you want me out there." He lowered his voice. "Who else in this town will help you break into the pet shop to dye the dogs' fur?"

Oooh. Mabel should not have told Bill about that ambition. "Well..."

"Or help you grill hamburgers with sprinkles. You know Stanley's never gonna do that for us again," Bill said. "Or what if you need a drive somewhere, huh? The guys with licenses are gonna get tired of trips to the craft store eventually."

"You can't drive!"

"Of course I can drive, didn't you see me during—?" Bill's eyes widened. "Oh no, you didn't see! I can't believe you didn't see my car. You, you would have loved it."

He seemed serious. Maybe he could drive. "You... shouldn't get to drive."

"What if it's an emergency and I'm the only one who can do it. Do you want me in the driver's seat with or without a leash?" He spread his hands in a shrug. "And anyway... think of everything else we could be doing together outside. Purple poodles and pink pugs are just the start, my friend."

Mabel hated when she knew she was being manipulated but Bill still made a good point. She bit her lip and glanced at the clock over the sink. A tour had just started; the gift shop should be empty and the vending machine safe to use.

She got out of her seat, taking her cereal with her. "I'm gonna run this by the household magic expert."

Bill rolled his eye. "Fine. Tell Sixer we're out of apple cider."

####

"Tell Bill we got three packs last time," Ford said. "If that's not enough to hold him one week between grocery trips, then he has a drinking problem."

"Okay, but what about the bracelets?"

Ford set aside the book he'd been reading and studied the bracelets. He slipped one on his wrist. "Mabel, would you mind putting on the other side?"

"Sure!" She pulled on the bracelet. It tightened around Ford's wrist and the thread between them disappeared. Fascinating.

After a few minutes of experimenting to see how they worked, Ford was fairly sure this was a spell he'd learned about years ago, although he'd lost the details when he tossed his second journal in the bottomless pit. Usually it was done with metal chains—but the spell should make the bracelets nigh on indestructible while the magic was active, so, as promised, it would contain Bill. As long as he didn't murder the person on the other end of the spell.

"So can I take Bill outside?" Mabel asked, hands laced together and eyes wide. "Please please please?"

"You did hear what I just said about murder, right?"

"We'll bring someone else along! Bill wouldn't try to kill me if someone else is standing guard!" (At least she still recognized that there were circumstances where Bill would try to kill her.) "He's been stuck inside for weeks. That's not healthy! He needs to stretch his legs, get some sunshine!" She smacked Ford's desk as a thought occurred to her, "And we need to take him clothes shopping. I can tell he's uncomfortable in gift shop t-shirts and Abuelita's skirts. Does he even like skirts?" She dropped her voice to a whisper. "Does he even have underwear, or is he still wearing Soos's old swim trunks?"

Ford winced. "Melody was kind enough to pick some up a few days ago." But he could admit it had taken them longer than it should have.

"What about the rest of his clothes? Does he have a bra?"

"Wh—" Ford sputtered. "Does he want one?"

"I don't know, I haven't asked. It might be more comfortable. He has a lot of chest."

Lord. Ford closed his eyes. He did not want to think about bras.

"Pleeease?" Mabel said. "I wanna take him clothes shopping. He's probably never explored human fashion before! He's got to find his style. I can be his style consultant."

Aha. So that was what Mabel was getting out of all this: a person-sized dress-up doll.

Truth be told, they probably should take Bill outside. Depending on how Fiddleford's research proceeded, destroying Bill could take weeks, if not months. If there were ever an emergency, they might need to relocate Bill quickly—so it was better to ensure the bracelets worked as advertised before they became necessary.

"Fine. But this won't be a regular thing," Ford said. "Ask Stan when he can go. And your brother—I'd rather Bill know the numbers are stacked against him. And he's not allowed to talk to anybody outside the shack. You, Dipper, and Stan will have to intercept anybody he might speak to."

"Don't worry about that! I've got the perfect solution," Mabel said. "What if Grunkle Stan doesn't want to go?"

"Ask him to talk to me. I think I can convey the importance."

"You don't want to come? Are you too busy figuring out how to kill him?" Mabel's gaze moved to the books Ford had been reading.

Ford suppressed the urge to shut the books and hide the papers beside them. Mabel wouldn't be able to understand the books anyway: it was an ancient Roman historian's description of augury—fortunetelling with birds—and a Latin reference dictionary he was consulting to help him translate. He was more afraid Mabel's gaze would fall on the pages next to the books, where a few vocabulary words from the mystical, mythical language of the birds had been scrawled out in Bill's distinctive chicken scratch.

No, Ford wasn't busy figuring out how to kill Bill. He was still waiting to hear back from Fiddleford about the feasibility of synthesizing or replacing the quantum destabilizer's Dontium; and, in the meantime, he'd allowed himself to believe there was nothing else he could do on his own... and by now, he'd gotten thoroughly distracted. Going through Bill's notes, verifying his claims, following up on the leads he'd subtly slid in. Bill's miniature grimoire was the most dense magical text since the Emerald Tablet. Opening it up was like a cryptography puzzle mixed with a dissertation research project, and each sentence was a fractal flower of information, a bud that bloomed into a dozen more buds that each bloomed into a dozen more.

It was amazing. Enthralling. This was the kind of research Ford was made for. He was the most relaxed he'd been in weeks.

He hadn't told anybody what he was doing while Fiddleford worked.

"No, not that," he told Mabel, "I just don't want to spend time around Bill. Especially on what's essentially a social trip. Stanley can... handle it better."

"Oh," Mabel said. "That makes sense, I guess."

Ford glanced uneasily at Bill's papers, then looked away before Mabel could see.

He was so caught up in his own shame at getting caught toeing at one of Bill's traps, he didn't notice the quick shameful look on Mabel's face for the same reason.

####

(Thanks for reading! Please drop a comment or reblog if you enjoyed, y'all's commentary is what helps keep me writing. ❤️

Also I feel like Google translate can handle the Latin pretty well if you wanna see what Bill's saying at the start, but it's important to me that you know Google is wrong about "quadrum defututum" and it can actually be more accurately translated as "you square slut.")

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #mabel pines #gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #gravity falls fic #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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