#[ answered: ic. ] oh? you'd like to know more about me? what will you give in exchange then?

[orchideae]

Tag drop (1/2): General.

#[ ooc. ] don't try to make it logical or edit your soul according to the fashion. rather; follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly. #[ ic. ] a word to the wise: do not try to lie to her. for falsehoods may last as long as fragile bubbles before meticulous thoughts. #[ answered: ooc. ] finding her is no easy task either. for it is always she who finds you when she wishes to; not the other way around. #[ answered: ic. ] oh? you'd like to know more about me? what will you give in exchange then? #[ psa. ] seeing isn't always believing. and if you can't trust your eyes; you certainly can't trust rumors. #[ saved. ] how can things ever be the same again: knowing your life was saved when others weren't? salvation can also be a burden. #[ prompts / memes. ] i so happen to be interested in some information you have. in other words; you scratch my back; i'll scratch yours. #[ crack. ] you nearly gave paimon a heart attack! / you look pretty alive to me. can't have spooked you that bad. #[ salt. ] that's the worst-case scenario. but all too often; the most pessimistic speculation turns out to be the closest to the truth. #[ post-it. ] she dances with danger; secrets and a strong sense of achievement. these are the vivid proof of her existence. #[ et cetera. ] every round of finger-guessing is a tiny adventure; and every roll of dice sends sporadic thrills down her spine. #[ self promotion. ] i'm heartbroken. i thought it might take you a little longer than this to forget all about me? #[ promotion. ] it does intrigue me: the way we all ended up here together. if this is fate; let's grab it in our hands and turn it around.

[gureumz]

liar, sweetheart

rating: explicit

member: sunghoon

premise: your best friend, benj, is a twin but he's the complete opposite of his brother. his brother, sunghoon, is all kinds of sleazy, or so you've heard. knowing about your big fat crush on your best friend, this sorry excuse of a twin brother agrees to put in a good word, in exchange for a good fuck, of course.

notes: fem!reader, dom!sunghoon, sort of rivals-to-lovers, unprotected sex, slight breeding, dacryphilia, dirty talk, degradation, praise, clothed sex, accidental voyeurism, sunghoon is two people here lmao, lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: fifth entry for my 1k follower special! we're in the endgame now, people. one last after this and my 1k event is ending. how did that happen :') anyways, i really got back into my writing groove for this one so i hope you all enjoy!

"what do you think of sunghoon?"

your ears perk up as you turn your head to give your best friend a look.

oh, benj. sweet, sweet benjamin park.

awkward but in a cute, boyish sort of way, tall almost to the point of gangly, but handsome in the way supermodels were.

benj is a figure skater, a very good one at that. he's at the level where if he did well enough, he'd be international news tomorrow. you've seen him skate and to you, it was nothing short of mesmerizing.

oh, you. clueless, utterly clueless you.

honestly, it was all so predictable.

a situation right out of booktok's latest favorite friends-to-lovers novel by some up-and-coming author. the comfortable silence, the memorized starbucks orders, the pining, oh, the pining. booktok lives for the pining.

sitting here in benj's room as he casually games, fingers lazily moving over his ps5 controller, you realize just how utterly shortsighted you were.

of course you'd fall in love with your best friend. it's law. it's fate. a canon event, as the kids say.

but, you're getting out of topic here. right now, benj is asking you about his twin brother.

"what do you mean?" you ask, swiveling around in the office chair by benj's desk. benj is perched on his bed, leaned up against his headboard as he plays.

"like...what do you think of him...?" benj repeats, as if in an attempt to rephrase his question but ultimately failing.

your forehead creases even more.

"you have to be more specific than that," you chuckle.

benj pauses the game, setting the controller down. he shifts on his side so he can get a better look at you.

"do you like him?" benj deadpans, raising an eyebrow.

you nearly choke on your own saliva.

sunghoon. benj's twin brother.

the younger twin, as benj always reminded. your thoughts drift to the other park brother, complete in all his dark clothes and equally dark hair.

while benj afforded himself the preference of dying his hair an icy blonde, sunghoon kept his own hair jet black. benj wore sweaters and cardigans and loose-fitting shirts, but sunghoon wore button-ups, with the first three buttons popped open, paired with jeans ripped to the heavens.

benj is the shining star in this family, a star figure skater, an overachiever. sunghoon battles his way around ice hockey, dabbles in dance, keeps his triumphs to himself.

benj is the sun, while sunghoon is the moon. yin and yang.

you get the picture.

oh, and sunghoon is a complete asshole. benj is not.

"he's okay," you finally answer. benj looks at you like he's waiting for more.

"that's it?" benj asks after a second.

you roll your eyes. "i don't know what you want me to say. i barely talk to him since i spend most of my time with you."

benj cocks his head to the side, as if curious.

"weird," he says. "he asks about you all the time."

this piques your interest.

"he does?"

benj shrugs, returning his attention to the tv. he picks the forgotten controller back up, resuming his game.

"yeah. asks if and when you'll be coming over," benj explains. he shoots you a quick side glance.

"you're not hooking up behind my back, are you?"

you physically recoil at benj's words, the idea initially repulsive to you.

"absolutely not," you practically spit out. "he's not my type."

benj bursts out laughing, his eyes forming cute crescents as he does so.

"you basically just called me ugly with that," benj points out, eyes unmoving from the tv screen.

you stutter for a second. "that's not what i meant. it's just—well we're not close, at least not like how we are and—"

you sigh, cutting yourself off. you've embarrassed yourself enough, you think.

benj shakes his head, one side of his mouth turning up in a half-smile.

"okay, no need to explain, ______. i was just asking," benj says. "but the way you're so defensive about it is raising a few questions, not gonna lie."

you rub exasperatedly at your temples.

"i am not sleeping with your brother."

---

"hey."

you nearly jump a foot back in surprise. looking up, you're met with the stern gaze of sunghoon, black hair falling over his eyes. he's wearing one of those compression shirts, ridiculously tight against his toned upper body.

you turn away before it gets weird.

"oh, sorry, is benj home?" you ask, peeking momentarily past sunghoon.

"he's at training," sunghoon informs. "didn't he tell you?"

you glance at your watch. "he said he'd be done by now."

sunghoon raises an eyebrow. "well, he's not."

your mouth falls open, your mind momentarily going blank. you shift your expression to one of stony resolve.

"you know what, i'll just come back. sorry to bother you," you say, already turning away.

"i didn't tell you to leave, did i?"

you turn back, giving sunghoon a look. you stare hard, noticing just how much he resembles benj. but some things differ, naturally.

an extra beauty mark. the slightly sharper upturn of his nose. the seemingly eternal frown on his face.

"you can come in," sunghoon says with a sigh, stepping aside. you duck your head as you cross the threshold.

"and don't be so uptight next time," he adds. you can practically hear the smirk as he says this.

you glare daggers at sunghoon and he's still smiling as he closes the door behind him. he crosses his arms and studies you.

he leans back against the door and you straighten yourself up as much as you could.

"what's your problem, sunghoon?" you ask, planting your hands on your hips.

"what's yours?" sunghoon replies. you feel a twinge of annoyance spark in your chest.

"nothing," you emphasize. "and that's exactly it. i don't have a problem but if you don't stop acting like that, i might just have one soon enough."

"acting like what?" sunghoon questions, tilting his head to the side.

you swallow. you rack your brain for something to say, and don't be mistaken, you have a lot, but it's like your train of thought has halted altogether.

"like...that," you say, gesticulating vaguely with your hands.

sunghoon laughs, a hand coming up to run through his hair. you watch him, observe as his muscles shift beneath that stupidly tight, stupidly attractive shirt.

...what?

"are you this jumpy with my brother?" sunghoon asks, shoving his hands in the pockets of his grey sweatpants.

"i don't follow," you say, taking a step back. being close to sunghoon seems suffocating now, as if the air is stuffy with something you can't quite put your finger on.

"of course, you don't," sunghoon mutters under his breath.

it takes everything in you not to punch him square in the jaw.

"you like benj, don't you?" it's more of a statement rather than a question and it's so unexpected to you, you nearly stumble back in surprise.

"what?" is all you can say.

sunghoon snorts as if your confusion is oh-so-amusing.

"no need to deny it, _______," sunghoon reassures. "everyone with one working eye can see it."

you decide to stay silent. maybe if you don't react, sunghoon would drop the subject.

sunghoon seems satisfied with himself as he grins, nodding to himself, probably mentally patting himself on the back for his 'detective work'. he brushes past you and you get a whiff of his perfume and what you can assume is his body wash.

fresh. powdery. clean.

you wait a second before you hear his bedroom door close.

you let out a breath you weren't aware you were holding.

your phone vibrates with a notification and you're relieved to see it's a message from benj.

'are you at my place yet? i'll be home in a few. sunghoon will let you in. sorry, love u!'

you smile to yourself as you lock your phone.

---

you couldn't stop thinking about it.

were you really that obvious? or is it just some twin telepathy that's why sunghoon could tell? could benj tell?

you sit up, careful not to jostle anything in your immediate vicinity. you peer up at benj's sleeping figure from where you're situated on his spare mattress, positioned on the floor right next to his bed.

he seems to be deep in slumber, shoulders rising and falling steadily. you swallow, realizing how parched your throat has gotten. you get up on your feet, treading carefully around benj's room to get to the door.

you exit, walking down the hallway of the parks' penthouse apartment, trying to make as minimal sound as you can. you round the corner to where you know the kitchen is and you immediately stop in your tracks.

"shit—" you curse, startled by the figure standing by the kitchen island.

your eyes adjust to the dim lighting and you realize you've come face to face with sunghoon.

"hi, _______," sunghoon greets. "fancy seeing you here."

you huff, approaching the refrigerator. "ha ha. you scared the shit out of me."

you hear sunghoon laugh quietly from behind you.

you take the ice-cold pitcher out of the fridge, setting it on the counter before walking over to the cupboards where the parks keep their glasses.

you can feel sunghoon watching you, aware of the burning attention. you can feel your neck prickle with it.

you pull the cupboard door open and it's only now that you realize you can barely see. afraid to just reach in and possibly knock over and break something, you pause, willing your vision to adjust even more to the low lighting.

"hey, can you turn on the—"

your words are cut off when you feel warmth press up against your back. you flinch, watching with wide eyes as sunghoon's arm braces itself against the countertop in front of you. he reaches over you, his breath tickling the top of your head.

you shiver involuntarily.

you turn to face him, pressing yourself fully against the granite behind you. sunghoon pulls a glass down from the cupboard, handing it to you. his arm is still planted firmly to your side, half caging you in.

"here," sunghoon says.

you can just make out his face in the low light, his scent invading your senses once more. you take the glass from him and he steps away, freeing you.

you wordlessly return to the center of the kitchen, pouring yourself the water you desperately need. and boy, do you need it.

you gulp down mouthfuls of it, unsure why your legs are suddenly weak, your knees threatening to give out.

"hey," sunghoon calls out. you pause, turning to where he's still standing by the cupboards.

he has the same easy stance he had earlier in the day. leaned back, arms crossed. even in the dark, you can feel him staring.

"what?" it comes out a little more harshly than you'd like and you wince.

"do you hate me or something?" sunghoon asks brusquely.

once again, you find yourself rendered speechless by sunghoon.

"no," you answer simply, setting your glass down.

"then why don't you hang out with me like you do with benj?" sunghoon asks, approaching you.

"because benj is my best friend, you're not," you respond. sunghoon stops right in front of you and you have to crane your neck to meet where you think his eyes are.

"your best friend that you're in love with," sunghoon says, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"that's not true," you deny.

sunghoon snickers. "sure, keep lying to yourself, sweetheart."

you inhale at the term of endearment.

"you know, i never understood why you got closer to him but you stopped spending time with me altogether," sunghoon muses. "the three of us grew up together, remember?"

you do.

the afternoons spent in the local playground. you and benj sat on the swings while sunghoon pushed. you and sunghoon on the seesaw while benj attempted to balance in the middle (much to their mother's horror). the twins hiding while you played seeker.

a smile tugs at your lips at the memory. and then it falters just as quick.

"you were the one who stopped hanging out with us," you say, a little accusatory in the way you did. "you had newer ice hockey friends and when middle school rolled around, you decided those girls were worth your time more than us."

'more than me,' is what you wanted to say. but you swallow it down.

sunghoon stays silent at this. after what you estimate is a minute, he sighs.

"sorry," is all he says.

you shake your head. "it's okay, we all drift apart from our childhood friends at one point."

sunghoon steps even closer. you can feel him now. a strange crackle of electricity tickles your fingertips.

"that's not the case with you and benj," sunghoon observes.

it's your turn to say nothing.

"i can help you," sunghoon suggests. your head snaps up as you try to process sunghoon's words.

you can see him now, illuminated by the faint hallway lights behind you. sunghoon's looking at you, expression unreadable.

"help me?" you parrot back. sunghoon nods.

"i can help you get with benj, if that's what you want. plant the seeds, so to speak," sunghoon explains. "he is my twin brother, after all."

you consider this for a moment. there's no denying the giddy feeling you get in benj's presence. the comfort it gives you when you spend the whole day together. the butterflies in your stomach when he beams at you, all bright and shining.

this should be an offer you can't refuse.

"i just have one thing to ask of you," sunghoon cuts through your thoughts.

"what?" you ask.

sunghoon pauses, turning away as if gathering his own words.

"do you ever feel that there's this weird...thing between us?" sunghoon asks.

your whole body seems to stiffen. your hands turn cold, clammy.

"like tension," sunghoon elaborates. "something you can't really explain."

"no," you answer a little too quickly.

sunghoon chuckles. "there you go again, lying."

you avoid sunghoon's gaze, staring hard at a spot behind him where his shadow dances against the cabinets.

"if you agree to...try this thing with me just this once, i'll help you get together with benj," sunghoon concludes, bending lower so he's in your line of sight.

unable to avoid him any longer, you look into sunghoon's eyes. he's much clearer now, your eyes well-adjusted to the dark. he's looking at you, expression soft, unlike the other times you've come face-to-face with him.

"so, you're offering to be my wingman, but only if i let you fuck me?" you string your words out carefully. "is that it?"

sunghoon sighs, shrugging. "basically, yeah. sounds fucking weird but you can always say no."

"it is weird," you confirm. you cross your arms as you narrow your eyes at sunghoon.

"can't we just skip the part where we fuck and go straight to the part where you help me?"

sunghoon grins down at you, dipping even lower so you're eye level with him.

"it's as if you don't know me at all, _______," sunghoon says lowly. "that hardly seems fair, sweetheart."

you grit your teeth.

"besides, do you want to skip the part where we fuck?" sunghoon presses on the last word, holding your gaze as he said it. you feel a warmth spread all over your body.

you take a deep breath, steadying yourself. your mind is at war with itself, warning you that this is a bad idea. if you get together with benj after, what then? take the secret that you fucked his brother to your grave?

"just this once, and when we're done, you'll help me, correct?" you say, raising a brow at sunghoon.

sunghoon nods. "exactly."

you pause. you want it. what 'it' is, you're not so sure.

you reach your hand out.

"deal."

sunghoon grasps your hand in his, squeezing firmly. his fingers envelop yours easily, your palm almost cartoonishly smaller than his.

and he's warm. so warm.

your eyes meet his and it's like something snaps.

you feel sunghoon grasp at your waist and your own arms come flying up to wrap around sunghoon's neck. he kisses you fervently, harshly, desperately. you respond with the same enthusiasm, pulling him closer to you.

sunghoon pushes you against the fridge, the contents rattling within. you gasp as the cold metal presses through your thin pajamas, but sunghoon drinks in any noise from you with his mouth.

"fuck," sunghoon mutters softly.

"god, ______," sunghoon continues, hands splayed against your back, his lips exploring the expanse of your neck.

"sunghoon," you whisper, clutching onto his wide frame. you mewl softly when you feel him suckle on a spot just above your collarbone.

you pull sunghoon away from your neck, guiding his face back to level with yours. you kiss him some more, a strange feeling bubbling within you.

it's making you want more of sunghoon, as if your whole being craved him.

you hear a soft click of a door opening somewhere down the hall and your eyes fly open, your hands forcing sunghoon off you. he jumps back as well, a panicked look on his face.

footsteps echo in the hallway and a voice immediately follows after.

"_______?"

benj. it's benj. his voice is thick with sleep and you look over at sunghoon, eyes wide with alarm.

"i-i'm in the kitchen," you call out. "just needed a drink."

you rush out of the kitchen and into the hall, running right into benj's firm chest. he catches you before you stumble and he holds you at arm's length, looking at you through half-closed eyes.

"there you are," benj says with a laugh.

you let out a nervous giggle of your own, gently pushing benj back towards his room.

"i'm right here," you assure him. benj rambles on about hearing noises from his room and you quickly dismiss it as you just messing around in their kitchen.

just as you herd benj back into his room, you look back down the hall and see sunghoon sauntering casually towards his own door. he catches your eye and winks, stepping quietly into his room.

---

"i know what you were doing last night."

you stop dead in your tracks, hand frozen in midair just as you're unwrapping your hair from your towel.

you had just stepped out of the bathroom adjacent to benj's room, dressed in his shirt and your shorts from yesterday. it's the morning after your little tryst with sunghoon and you were nearly a hundred percent sure you had successfully lied your way out of an explanation to benj.

it turns out, you haven't.

"you were hooking up with sunghoon, weren't you?" benj says, looking at you expectantly.

you put on your best attempt at an appalled expression, eyes wide an lips turning down into a frown.

"no, i wasn't," you muster up with as much disgust as you can.

benj just laughs. "i've lived here for nearly half my life, ____. i know the sounds of this house better than you."

"well, you thought wrong," you argue, busying yourself with brushing through your hair. you keep your eyes trained on the full body mirror in front of you, setting your sight on your own face.

benj comes up behind you, looking at you as if he could see right through you.

you think maybe he can.

"you're such a bad liar," benj accuses.

"i would never hook up with your brother," you protest, raking through your hair aggressively. you're getting antsy and you pray that benj would just drop the subject.

"why not?" benj questions.

you look at his reflection, scowling. "i don't like him like that, benj."

"hooking up with him would feel like hooking up with you," you add. 'a red herring, yes,' you think. 'distract him, make him feel weird for even asking.'

benj gives you a look. "what's so bad about that?"

you stare open-mouthed at benj. a million thoughts are flying through your head and something pinches at your chest.

"you're my best friend, benj," you try to reason. "that's weird."

"and hooking up with my brother isn't?"

you groan, letting your head fall into your hands.

"i didn't hook up with sunghoon!"

benj nods, pouting as if not fully convinced. "okay, whatever you say."

he steps out through the door, leaving you in his eerily quiet room.

you sigh, turning back to your reflection.

"not yet," you whisper to yourself.

---

"aren't you leaving yet?"

you look up from your phone and you're met with sunghoon peeking through benj's door. his hair is damp and you can smell his aftershave from where you're sprawled out on benj's bed.

"nope," you reply curtly, turning back to your phone.

"you've been here two days," sunghoon points out, stepping into the room. you ignore the jolt of excitement in your gut.

"i'll leave once benj comes back from training," you say.

"oh sure, then the two of you will get caught up again in whatever nerd things you do, and then it's the evening and you'll stay another night, walking around in your skimpy pajamas," sunghoon rambles sarcastically.

you narrow your eyes him as you sit up. "what's wrong with my pajamas?"

"they make me impossibly hard, _______. that's what's wrong," sunghoon admits, expression unchanging.

your eyebrows shoot up in mild surprise. "that down bad, huh?"

"nah," sunghoon replies nonchalantly.

"whatever you say, sweetheart," you say, throwing the pet name back at sunghoon.

sunghoon lets his eyes travel over your body, expression darkening, and you feel every hair on your skin stand up under his unrelenting gaze. you shift around, unsure of what to do with sunghoon's undivided attention.

you watch as sunghoon approaches, his jaw set as he pauses right before benj's bed. he meets your eyes and before you know it, sunghoon is crawling over you, stopping once he has you caged in between his arms.

"you're seriously not thinking of fucking me on your twin brother's bed, are you?" you whisper. you're nearly nose to nose with sunghoon now.

"i am," sunghoon answers simply before kissing you, effectively driving you back against the plush mattress.

the same bubbling feeling reappears and you grab at any part of sunghoon that you can, hooking your legs around his waist. he grunts against your mouth and you feel him harden against your core.

"this is my shirt by the way," sunghoon grins against your lips. "benj stole it from me a while back."

you moan at the thought of it. you feel sunghoon reach under your—his—shirt, chuckling when he feels the absence of a bra. he cups one of your breasts in his hand, kneading as he continues his assault on your lips.

"lose this," sunghoon commands, his other hand tugging your shorts down harshly. you oblige, reaching down to discard the piece of clothing along with your underwear.

"but keep this on," sunghoon adds as he kisses along your jaw, referring to the large shirt swallowing your frame.

you kick off your shorts and underwear the same time sunghoon pulls back to undo his own joggers. he throws them off to the side unceremoniously before hovering back over you, his eyes scanning every feature of your face.

"if you're so in love with benj, why are you about to sleep with me on his bed?" sunghoon asks, his fingers trailing down delicately from your chest down to your stomach. you flinch, fighting the urge to curl into yourself at the ticklish feeling.

sunghoon continues down towards the space between your legs, wasting no time swiping through your folds. you gasp, back arching as sunghoon rubs up and down, finger circling teasingly around your entrance.

"you talk too much," you counter, voice shaking. "are you gonna fuck my brains out or what?"

sunghoon sneers, shoving two fingers in without warning. you yelp, turning to bury your face in benj's pillow. it smells like him, but you barely register that, seeing as his twin's fingers are knuckles deep in you.

"go on, run your mouth like you always do, slut," sunghoon taunts. you involuntarily clench down at his use of such a degrading word and sunghoon notices, of course, his mouth curling into a smirk.

"should have known you were into that," sunghoon wonders out loud. he moves his fingers in and out of you, pumping his thick digits into your wanting hole.

you clamp a hand down on your mouth, suppressing every noise that threatens to escape you.

"let me hear you, pretty, come on," sunghoon coos, prying your hand off your face. "it's just the two of us here."

you bite your lip but let yourself be heard as sunghoon continues to fuck you with his fingers. he curls them up inside you and you thrash about, the pressure building within your abdomen.

"gonna cum already? you're so fucking easy," sunghoon comments, leveling his face with your cunt. he blows softly against your clit and you cry out in pleasure.

you feel the wet heat of his tongue press against your bundle of nerves and coupled with sunghoon's fingers, you can't help but curse loudly at the sensations.

"shit, sunghoon!" you whine. "yes, just like that, please."

sunghoon wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and running his tongue over it alternately. you feel like you're about to lose your mind. you're seconds away from orgasm and you barely have any time to warn sunghoon.

"i'm gonna cum, sunghoon i'm gonna—"

you're cut short by your own loud moans as you feel yourself come undone, your whole body seizing up. you grip at the sheets beneath you with one hand while the other reaches down to thread through sunghoon's hair. you hear him grunt against your pussy as you tug at the strands.

eventually, you relax, easing up on sunghoon's hair. he comes up to face you, his mouth glistening with your release. he licks his lips, smirking at the way you watch him with awe.

"you still with me?" sunghoon asks with a raise of his brow. you nod weakly, hands coming up to cup at his face.

sunghoon leans down to kiss you tenderly and you moan as you taste yourself on his lips. he moves his lips against yours slowly, savoring each pass of your tongue over each other's, tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth as he pulls away.

you peek down and see that sunghoon's cock stands red and angry against the black of his shirt.

"fuck me raw," you say before you can stop yourself.

sunghoon's eyebrows shoot up.

"are you sure?" he asks.

you nod, angling your hips up. restraint be damned, you want sunghoon and you want him now.

sunghoon chews down on his bottom lip as he lines himself up against your dripping hole. he coats his tip with your juices and you throw your head back as he teases you with his leaking cock.

"please," you whisper.

sunghoon presses a kiss on your cheek. "i got you, angel."

you feel him push in, stretching you out more than you anticipated. your mouth falls open in a silent moan as sunghoon slowly but surely bottoms out. your heart races and your mind loses all coherent thought. all you can register is that sunghoon feels like he's splitting you open with his dick.

"fuuuuck," sunghoon drawls into your ear.

"so fucking tight and so fucking good," he continues, bracing himself on either side of you. he moves his hips experimentally, pulling out then thrusting in and the two of you moan at the same time.

"give it to me," you pant, pulling sunghoon closer. "don't you dare hold back."

sunghoon grunts as he snaps his hips forward. you whine and moan like a whore as sunghoon fucks into you with reckless abandon. he keeps his eyes on your face, observing every expression that passes over your features.

"look at me," sunghoon orders as you let your eyes flutter close. "i said, look at me."

you obey, peering up at sunghoon through your lashes. he grabs your jaw as he hammers even harder into you. you cry out brokenly as you feel him deep within you. he's like a man starved, eyes wild as he takes you like this. rough and uncaring and oh so desperate.

"waited so long for this," sunghoon grunts. "to have you moaning and begging under me."

you feel tears prickle in your eyes, half from sunghoon's sharp nails digging into your cheek and half from the way his cock repeatedly punches against your cervix. it hurts but it's a pain you'd like to savor.

"god," sunghoon says, his face scrunching up in pleasure. he momentarily closes his eyes as he moves his hips even faster. he turns back to you, and by this time, your tears have escaped, streaking your face.

"fuck yeah, cry for me," sunghoon curses. "my pretty slut, weeping over my dick."

"oh, fuck—"

it came so suddenly, so unexpectedly that you can physically feel your body jolt. your second orgasm of the day rips through you, brought about by the filthy words escaping sunghoon's mouth. you hear him practically growl above you as he stills, your cunt clenching down so hard he's unable to move. you feel him twitch inside you and a second later, the warmth of his cum follows, shooting deep inside.

you're full-on crying now, mind hazy from pleasure as sunghoon catches himself before completely crushing you with his weight.

you wrap your shaky arms around sunghoon's shoulders, stroking his hair as the two of you calm yourselves down. sunghoon pulls out a minute later and you wince, immediately clamping your legs together to keep all of him inside you.

sunghoon plops down next to you, breathing heavy as his eyes stare at the ceiling. you hug your knees to your chest, hoping that nothing stains benj's sheets.

"fuck, that's a good girl, keeping all my cum in," sunghoon says through breathless chuckles. you groan, swatting at his chest.

"get tissues or something," you demand weakly, rolling over to your side. sunghoon pulls you close and cradles you against his chest.

"later," he murmurs, kissing you on the forehead. "just wanna hold you."

you hum in agreement, letting your eyes droop close. the two of you lay there, unmoving for a few minutes.

you initially think it's your imagination but you can hear faint footsteps coming down the hallway from outside benj's room. just as your eyes fly open, a loud knock thunders against the door.

"are you done?" comes benj's muffled voice from the other side.

"as much as i wanted to stay and watch, that might not be something you guys are into, so i gave you your privacy," he continues.

you and sunghoon look at each other, clearly panicking.

"but please, for the love of god, don't do it on my goddamn bed next time!"

#enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #sunghoon smut #sunghoon scenarios #w: sunghoon

[luveline]

hi bae, just wondering if you could write something like roommate!marauders and reader with anxiety where everytime one of them goes out she gets really worried that’s somethings gonna happen to them and waits up for them and just feels like a burden when she calls to make sure they’re alright and just general anxiety things and them being so sweet about it

love u

love u too♡

cw death related anxiety

“Hey, Remus?” you ask tentatively. 

Your housemate lays across the sofa with his dinner half eaten on the coffee table and a book tented on his chest. He's ignoring both in favour of the television, a rerun of Family Fortunes turning the sofa cushions and his pale skin a light blue. 

He drags his blue-tinged gaze from the subtitles to your frowning. “What's wrong?” he asks. You're surprised he heard you over the sound of Sirius’ stereo echoing down the stairs. 

“Where did James say he was going?” 

“I think he said he'd be at the gym for an hour now he's not in work. Want me to call him?” 

“Why would you call him?” you ask, instead of saying yes, please, like you want to. 

“You're worrying again.” 

They know how you are. It doesn't mean they have to understand —it isn't logical to think James is hurt because he hasn't been home today yet, and none of them are required to humour you in your worry, but they always do. 

You feel sick as he takes his phone from his pocket. You've convinced yourself that James is dead, that his car curled around a bend too quickly on the drive in the rain, or that something happened at the gym, or that he never made it there at all, had a fit in the car park outside of work. Even as you think it, you know it's implausible, unlikely, just a repetitive negative anxiety worming its way into your head, but you can't make it stop. 

James doesn't answer the first time, which doesn't help, and then when he does answer the second time you're waiting for bad news. Remus smiles as he talks. “Hello? Jamie?”

James doesn't need speak phone to be heard. “Remus! I'm at the gym, what's happening?”

Remus wrinkles his nose. “What's happening? Since when do you say that?”

“What's up?” James corrects. “I'm on my way out of the gym, can you talk? You can keep me company while I drive.” 

Remus holds out the phone to you. 

“Remus?” James asks into the room. You take the phone before he can hang up, and decide to be honest, but the words get stuck like toffee between your teeth. “Hello?” 

“Hey,” you say, sending Remus a grateful look. He moves over to make room on settee for you, and his arm wraps familiarly around your shoulders as you settle in. He turns his attention back to his show. 

“Oh my god hey, angel. Remus okay?” 

“I was making him ring you, sorry. I thought… you know what I'm like. It's getting late and you aren't home, and I know I don't have the right to pester you about where you are.”

“Yeah you do,” James says, his voice louder, like his mouth is very close to the microphone. “Course you do. I'd worry too if you weren't home yet.” 

“I do this all the time, though.”

Just last week he and Sirius were out late and you'd panicked that they'd both been hurt. You stayed up until almost one in the morning waiting for them to get home from a music shop in the city, each minute after eleven like a shot of ice water in your veins. Sirius jumped when he saw you waiting in the living room, but then he'd given you a hug and rubbed at your shoulders roughly. You didn't wait up for us, did you? 

“It's worse lately, yeah?” James asks. You hum non-committal, and Remus gives you a squeeze in typical Remus fashion. You hadn't even realised he was listening, but his support makes this easier. “You're worrying about us more.”

“Yeah,” you say. “I don't know why. And it sucks because I know it's making me a lot to deal with.” 

“I would one thousand percent prefer it if you rang me then sat there worrying. That would make me feel better. And Remus and Sirius feel the same way, okay? We could all stand to ring each other a bit more anyways.” 

You rub your nose into your hand. “Sorry,” you mumble. 

“There's no need to be. I love you, ‘n I just want you to be happy. If a phone call can make that happen then why shouldn't you do it? And it's not like they're a big imposition, I like talking to you. We all do.”

James is home from the gym what could only be ten minutes later, and he leans over the back of the settee to kiss your forehead chasely. “Here we are, all safe and well.” 

“You haven't seen Sirius yet,” Remus points out.

“I can bloody well hear him. What is he listening to? Is that U2?” James shakes his head in disgust. “I can see why you were so worried I wasn't coming home. Let me go put a stop to that immediately.” 

#the marauders #marauders #poly marauders #poly!marauders #poly marauders x reader #poly!marauders x reader #remus lupin x reader #james potter x reader #remus lupin fanfiction #james potter fanfiction #remus lupin fic #james potter fic #the marauders x reader #the marauders x fem!reader #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #sirius black x reader implied is

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

You and Eddie get into an argument about the girl he's giving guitar lessons too. Angst, misunderstandings and bad communication ensues.

Warnings. Mdni. 18+ only, angst. Miscommunication and misunderstandings. Idiots in love. Jealousy.

💞

You and Eddie had been together for a few months and up until this point you had never had a cross word.

He had been giving some girl guitar lessons, her name was Britney and she was gorgeous, amazingly cool and hilarious.

Tonight you had walked in on them laughing together and looking all cosy. Something in you kinda broke inside, it was ridiculous because you knew Eddie would never cheat, but you still felt your stomach bottom out.

Hearing Eddie gush about Britney and how metal she was and was like a rockstar on the guitar didn't help either.

You weren't proud of it but you were quiet and a little less warmer than you'd usually be and when Britney made excuses to leave, you were left wracked with guilt.

Eddie had rounded on you asking ''Why were you being such a bitch?" and that had made you even more pissed and the argument ensued.

"I'm sorry that walking in on my boyfriend looking so fucking cosy with someone else put me in a bad mood" you bite back at him and Eddie's big brown eyes darken in rage.

"You're being fucking ridiculous right now you know that?" it hurt hearing Eddie say that and you lashed out without thinking about what you were saying.

"Oh so I'm ridiculous because I hate seeing some girl make gooey eyes at my boyfriend, I'm such a bad girlfriend for being a little bit wary" Eddie shakes his head and the temperature in the room turns colder.

"Or it's obvious that you don't fucking trust me. So if you don't trust me then what's the fucking point?" your breath hitches and there's a deep pit of gloom and dread, in your stomach.

"Are you breaking up with me?" you whimper and want to take back everything you said, tell him that of course you trust him but you're so stunned, your heart is breaking.

Without another word you storm out before Eddie can confirm your worst fears.

❤️

Instead of going home you go straight to Nancy's who immediately digs out some ice cream and let's you cry out all the heartache, you both stay up most of the night but end up crashing around 5am.

Nancy is ready up and getting ready for school, you have the worst headache and just want to sleep a little longer so she leaves you to sleep, brings you up some pancakes and freshly squeezed orange juice that Mrs Wheeler kindly made up for you.

In return you help her around the house, trying anything to take your mind of your heartache about Eddie.

When Nancy comes back home she gently explains that Eddie has been calling you and is worried that you haven't answered.

"I think you need to listen to what he has to say honey, he looks a wreck, I think he's driving Mike and the rest of the kids here after Hellfire so if you want to wait"

Nervously you nod and try to calm your anxious mind that Eddie is going to break up with you for good.

By the time that you hear Eddie's van and he's parked outside, you're on tenterhooks. Eddie looks like he's barely slept, his hair is messier than usual and he has the saddest look in his beautiful brown eyes.

That look makes you want to burst into tears there and then. You hate that you're the cause.

"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry, his voice is rougher than normal, his hands are shaking and you reach out to steady them.

"I'm sorry too Eddie. I was a bitch and rude and of course I trust you, I trust you with my life and I hate that I made you think otherwise" his eyes fill with pain and he swallows.

"I shouldn't have called you a bitch. I've been a mess since you left and I was worried as shit when you weren't answering your phone, Mike told me you stayed here last night with Nance so I knew I would come here as soon as I could"

The tension slowly begins to leave your body and you feel soothed as Eddie pulls you in his arms

"Also Britney has just started dating Gareth, she was learning guitar to impress him and I was teaching her how to play his favourite song."

Fuck. "I'm so sorry Eddie" he softens and kisses your forehead.

"Even if she was interested I don't care. I'm not interested in her. How could you think I'd want her or anyone when I already have the most amazing, beautiful princess"

A warm fluttery feeling pools in your belly and you cuddle into Eddie and peer at him sadly.

"I just got insecure when you talked about how badass Britney was on the guitar and how metal she was" Eddie strokes your cheek and you melt into his touch.

"I'm sorry sweetheart. I didn't realise that was bothering you. Honestly yeah she's metal and pretty badass at the guitar but she's not you. She's not the one I'm head over heels in love with. You are"

"Oh" well shit, you'd definitely fucked up and misread everything. This is the first time Eddie has said I love you. It's a big deal for him, you know that and it is for you too.

"I'd never cheat on you or hurt you princess, I'm so in love with you" Tears roll down your cheeks and you kiss him fiercely.

"I love you too Eddie, I should have tried better at communicating with you" You sigh and cuddle into him, feeling calmer than you have in days.

"We both should learn to communicate better" he corrects you and you nod. It feels like a weight has been lifted of you.

"I really should apologise to Britney too" he hums in agreement.

"She thinks your really cool by the way and she put up with me constantly gushing about you"

Shit. Yeah you definitely have to apologise. In fact you make that your next mission first thing on Monday morning.

For now you were just going to bask in Eddie's love for a little while.

Britney as it turns out is a total sweetheart about the whole thing when you speak to her first thing on Monday and excitedly tells you about her dates with Gareth and how she played him the song Eddie taught her.

Not only do you gain the start of a friendship with Britney but you and Eddie are more in love than ever.

🫶

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #angst to fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson

[sapphire-writes]

Money Shot

Part 4 of The Campaign

modern!Aemond x Reader

summary: Tensions rise between you and Aemond at the arrival of Floris Baratheon.

word count: 6.3k

rating: explicit/18+/MDNI

warnings: kissing, fingering, oral (f receiving), degradation, slight praise, semi-public, finger sucking, gagging, hair pulling, begging, infidelity, reader serving cunt (listen, our reader is not a girl's girl and you know what we're just rolling with it for this one rip), angst, alcohol consumption, smoking, language

note: oh hey there! it's my monthly series update whatcha know! how's everyone doing? surviving? thriving? slay! thanks for reading lovelies I hope you enjoy it!

dividers & headers by me (i know, we've come so far)

if you'd like to be notified when I post please follow and turn on notifications for @sapphire-writes-updates in lieu of a taglist!

like this story? check out more of my work HERE 🖤

Floris Baratheon is annoyingly pretty.

Even more so now that she’s this close; seated across from you at brunch. Floris and her sisters went to school with you when you were younger; you’d been in the same grade as her older sister Maris. You were never close. When it became clear her family was supporting Aegon over Rhaenyra, you made it your mission to find out everything worth knowing about them. 

Floris motherfucking Baratheon. 

She bats her lashes at Aemond as he holds his brother’s attention in polite quiet conversation. Easily the prettiest of her sisters so it is wasn’t surprising that Aemond had chosen her as his prize. Though to be frank, you’d never thought of Aemond as shallow. He hardly dated at all. 

Aegon had arrived late the previous night, setting off the alarms of Summerhall as he fell into the swimming pool. A fabulous start to the day. 

Floris had arrived the evening after you and Aemond’s most recent rendezvous. She’d squealed like an excited teenager, throwing her arms around Aemond, her heels lifting off of the ground as she peppered light kisses across his face. Her presence had been a thorn in your side ever since. 

A family outing had been Alicent’s idea. The restaurant was Rhaenyra’s choosing; an intimate little rooftop brunch spot. You’d all gotten there early to avoid the sweltering midday sun. 

You glance over your shoulder at the table behind you where Rhaenyra is seated, flanked by Daemon and Joffrey. Alicent and her father sit across from them, both tight lipped. Daemon is lost in his menu, the corner of his mouth curling into a sneer as he murmurs something to Rhaenyra. The table appears quiet, with no polite conversation. Though Joffrey is seated beside his mother, it feels very much as though you’d been seated at the kid’s table. 

“Weren’t you supposed to bring someone?” Helaena asks, glancing at Aegon out of the corner of her eye as she pours over the menu. “I thought you were seeing that Lannister girl.”

You turn away from the grown-ups' table, reaching for your wine. You declined the complimentary mimosas, as did Aegon. He swirls his glass of scotch in his hand, the ice cube clinking against the sides. Nothing like hard liquor at 11 am. 

“She’s not coming,” Aegon answers.

“Not coming?” 

Aegon merely shrugs, tapping his finger against the glass, “We had a fight.”

Helaena quirks a brow at that, pursing her lips as she sets her menu on the table.

“A fight?”

“Yes. A disagreement.”

“About what?”

Aegon groans, leaning back in his chair as a waitress walks by. His eyes rake over her figure so quickly you almost miss it. Aegon’s been perving for years and he’s mastered his technique. Your stomach sours and you roll your eyes. Jace reaches over to you, placing his hand on top of yours giving it a comforting squeeze. 

“Loyalties. I kissed someone else and she wasn’t happy.” Aegon tells his sister. His playful frown suggests he’s unbothered by her reaction to his infidelity.  

Of all the Targaryens, you think you hate Aegon the most.You glance at Aemond and find him already looking at you.

Well, maybe not the most. 

“How dreadful. You’ll cause a scandal, I’m sure,” Helaena muses. 

“No one’s paying much attention to me. Nothing to worry about,” Aegon says, plucking a piece of bread from the basket in front of him, “Everyone’s more concerned about Maegor With Tits.” He holds the bread against his chest for crude emphasis. 

“Hush,” Helaena snaps, always the quickest of her siblings to defend her half-sister. 

Helaena and Aegon quarrel like lovers. It’s unsettling. 

Aemond is still watching you, even though you’ve looked away. You’re trying to control the small smirk that plays on your lips. You know why he’s staring. 

It wasn’t as though you were trying to get him to look at you, but you had opted for a more revealing dress than you usually would for a family outing. Jace’s eyes had widened considerably as you’d smoothed the small scrap of silk into place that morning.

“You look incredible,” he’d said, hand on your hip, eyes following the fabric that stopped just below the curve of your ass, leaving no amount of leg to the imagination.

You glance at Aemond, meeting his hungry gaze. He’s awfully fun to play with. It’s been so boring the past few days ever since Floris’ arrival. She’d been stuck to Aemond’s side like a pretty little leech the entire time. 

“So, Floris,” you say, placing your wine glass on the table, “We’ve been living in the same house for three days now and I feel like I don’t know anything about you. Tell me about yourself.” It’s a command more than a request.

Aemond keeps his eye focused on you, the heat of his glare burning into your face. Helaena raises a brow as Jace and Aegon begin talking to one another, oblivious. Helaena has always been the most observant. Floris smiles kindly, not sensing the tension that rolls off your shoulders. It’s the first time you’ve attempted to speak to her. 

“Oh ... .well…,” she glances at Aemond though he says nothing, “What would you like to know?”

A smile dances across your lips. This should be fun.

“I can’t remember for the life of me where you studied. Which university did you graduate from again?” you ask, cocking your head to the side, “Was it Harvard or Yale? I always confuse the East Coast ivies.” You laugh breathlessly, shaking your head. 

Floris’ eyelashes flutter; a nervous tell. She smiles with a sigh, clearly not used to the spotlight directed at her. 

“Oh well I think you’re thinking of my sister Maris,” she answers, cheeks turning a rosy hue of pink. You knew that, obviously. If Aemond wanted intellectually stimulating conversation, he’d have chosen her as his arm candy. “But I’m planning on going back and getting my degree at some point. I’m really interested in botany—”

“Botany! Ha! That was my minor in university,” Helaena chimes in. Floris’ eyes light up, thankful Helaena has joined the conversation. “That’s rather—”

“Flowers?” you interrupt and Floris’ smile falters ever so slightly as her blue eyes return to you.

Unlucky for her, you’ve never been one to give up easily. You reach for your glass, holding it lazily between your fingers. Smiling tightly and tilting your head to the side, you continue your advances. 

“Yeah,” Floris shakily answers, “I mean…I don’t know. I haven’t really made up my mi—”

“Have you read any good books recently?” you ask, taking a sip of wine. You watch Aemond begin to tap his fingers against the table out of the corner of your eye.

“Oh um, not really,” Floris answers, “I’m not much of a reader.”

You flick an eyebrow up at that, glancing at Aemond. His pale blue eye holds your gaze, nostrils flaring. Interesting. Aegon and Jace have paused their side conversation.

“Oh?”

The table is silent. It’s like watching a cat play with a mouse. Aemond’s knuckles blanche as he curls his fingers in toward his palm. A waitress walks by, absentmindedly refilling the sweating glasses of water that line the table. Aemond says nothing; he doesn’t jump to his girlfriend’s defense.

Doesn’t look away from you. 

Floris wets her lips, smiling politely up at the waitress as she refills her cup. She pauses for a moment, nervously sipping her water. She’s about three mimosas in; you’re sure the alcohol is working in your favor. A layer of nervous sweat covers her brow. 

“I mean, I haven’t really—”

“What about current events?” you continue to steamroll her, “Aemond loves staying up to date he must be driving you crazy with all that. Especially with what's been going on recently in the Riverlands.”

“Oh, well I’m not really sure—”

“Oh you aren’t?” you ask in mock confusion, over dramatically pouting, “Hmph. I assumed you’d be interested in his work. I mean as Aemond’s girlfriend and all—”

“Oh well, that’s actually a great segway,” Floris interrupts, her voice shriller than before, as if she’s trying to regain control of the conversation.

You take another sip from your glass, allowing her interruption. You’re enjoying her distressed state. A smile curves at the edge of your lips and you attempt to hide it behind your glass. 

“We’ve just been having the loveliest time together, haven’t we?” Floris says, pressing her hand against Aemond’s shoulder.

He makes a soft noise of approval and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. You catch his gaze again, the conversation fading into white noise. 

Does Floris know she’s been sleeping on the bed he ruined you on? Your cheeks grow hot. Just a few nights ago you’d been tied to the rails of their headboard. Guilt stabs you in the gut but you choose to ignore the uncomfortable feeling. Floris Baratheon means nothing to you. She’d do the same to you in a heartbeat. There’s no playing fair in these circles. 

“—you see we decided to get engaged!”

You choke on your wine, sputtering, and coughing. Droplets of wine stain the white tablecloth like little pink raindrops. Jace rubs a comforting hand on your back. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed with concern.

“Sloppy girl you got there, Jacey,” Aegon snickers. 

“I’m fine,” you manage in a hoarse voice, “Just went down the wrong way, that’s all.” You can feel droplets of wine running down your chin, onto your neck, and down between your breasts.

Aegon raises his eyebrows, an amused smile on his face as his eyes shamelessly follow the river flowing down your chest. You wipe your chin as you stand from your chair, the legs scraping harshly against the wooden floor.

“I’ll just go freshen up,” you tell everyone. Your throat tightens uncomfortably. 

“D’you want me to come with you?” Jace asks, rising halfway from his chair, his brown eyes wide.

“No, I’m fine,” you insist, pressing your hand against his shoulder until he sits back down, “I’ll be right back.”

You don’t look at Aemond, nor anyone else as you hurry past Rhaenyra’s table and between other patrons towards the restroom. Hurrying down the hallway and slamming the door shut behind you, you take a deep breath gazing at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes are wide and bloodshot from your coughing fit, and your chest is shiny and sticky from the wine. 

“Seven fucking hells,” you grumble, grabbing one of the provided towels and wetting it in the sink. Cleaning yourself up, you try to stop your hands from shaking. 

Engaged. 

You shake your head, fixing your hair, trying to rid yourself of the thought.

He’s fucking engaged.

Sleeping with Aemond Targaryen when he has a “girlfriend” is one thing. But fiancee? The thought makes your stomach tighten. Well, it shouldn’t mean anything. You didn’t care then. You shouldn’t care now. You meet your eyes in the mirror, your stomach flipping unpleasantly. You shouldn’t care. Your lower lip trembles, nails digging into the soft flesh of your palms.

Seven hells.

“What are you doing?” you whisper.

What have you been doing? You have a boyfriend. He has a fiancee. You press your hand against your forehead, breathing deeply as your heart thrums against your ribs. A wife practically. Gods if this got out. You don’t even want to think about it. Rhaenyra’s campaign would be jeopardized. Everything you’ve worked for. You’ve been so incredibly reckless. 

This has to end. 

The door opens and you’re torn from your thoughts as Aemond enters the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Of course, he followed you. You glare at him through the mirror.

“Out.”

“Let me explain—”

“Get out Aemond,” you demand, drying your hands, not turning to face him.

“I meant what I said,” he continues, taking a step forward, “It’s an arrangement that’s all, a publicity stunt—”

“A publicity stunt? You’re getting married,” you hiss, throwing the towel against the counter, meeting his eyes through the mirror once more. It feels hauntingly familiar, looking at him like this; the last time he was buried to the hilt inside of you. “Get. Out.”

“It doesn’t change anything,” he insists.

You laugh bitterly, finally turning to face him. He’s standing inches away from you, so close you can smell the intoxicating scent of his cologne. It makes your head spin. Shit. Stay focused.

“Doesn’t change anything?” you repeat, “She’s going to be your wife.”

“Don’t be such a child,” he snaps, causing you to flinch, “You know how this works. People are paired off together all the time.” He takes a step forward and you back up, your ass nudging against the edge of the sink. “What did you think was going to happen, hm?” He steps even closer, his body completely caging you against the counter.

Aemond places his hands on either side of you. He’s not wrong. You know how this world works. Families align with each other all the time through relationships and marriages. It’s as if they’re frozen in time using betrothals for political gain. 

Just look at Rhaenyra and Laenor Velaryon. Their marriage was anything but a loving one. Her children are proof of that, clearly fathered by someone else. You remembered watching them arrive when you were in grade school; exiting the black limousine and not realizing who they were. Their father was rumored to be the head of the Secret Service at the time, Harwin Strong, though this was never confirmed. 

“It’s not like Jace is going to let you go,” he murmurs, hands inching closer to your waist, “Or have you not thought that far ahead?”

His hands come to rest on your hips and he chuckles softly at the sound this elicits from you.

“You’re in too deep,” he says, nose brushing against your cheek. His minty breath wafts over your face. One hand remains on your waist, the other trailing up the side of your ribs. Goosebumps bloom on your arms as he reaches your face.

“It’s for the election,” you whisper.

“The water’s over your head,” he murmurs, his hand caressing your cheek, “If you think it’ll end there, you’re not as smart as I thought you were. You’re drowning.”

You swallow, lips parting to give him another snide remark, but he doesn’t let you; the hand that cradles the side of your face pulls you forward and presses your lips to his. You push against his firm chest, disconnecting your lips with a wet pop. Your hand reaches toward your face, your fingertips pressing against your tingling lips.

“You’re getting married—”

“And you’re fucking jealous,” he snarls, bringing his face inches away from yours. You suck in a surprised breath, cheeks warming as his lips curl into that familiar smug smirk, “Worried Floris is getting what you’ve been missing?”

Humiliation makes your skin prickle; the hair on the back of your neck stands on end. Your fingers fall from your lips.

“Fuck you,” you hiss from between clenched teeth, “I don’t care.”

You try to push by him but his hands plant themselves on your middle, holding you firmly in front of him. His hands slide down your waist, cupping the globes of your ass. A disapproving whine leaves your lips as he squeezes the soft flesh harshly, lifting you onto the counter. Your fists beat against his chest and he grabs your wrists.

“You care,” he insists, pressing a kiss against the side of your neck as you twist an arm from his grip to shove him, “Otherwise you wouldn’t be behaving like a spoiled brat in front of everyone.” His lips press against your throat with every word he speaks. 

One of his large hands moves up your back winding in your hair and tugging your head backwards. Your forearm presses against his shoulder attempting to push him away. Aemond hums appreciatively against your throat, pressing another soft kiss against it. Your breathing hitches as he continues to kiss your neck, warm desire pooling in your belly. You stop pushing, curling your hand into the fabric of his shirt instead, pulling him closer. 

“It’s been three days,” he murmurs, continuing his exploration up your neck with his lips, nipping and sucking at the smooth skin, “Three days without this cock is driving you crazy, huh?”

“Aemond,” you try to snap at him but it’s dangerously close to a moan, “They’ll be waiting for us—” You’re silenced by his fingers thrusting through your parted lips, pressing down against your tongue. 

“Shhh,” he hushes in a condescending tone, “I think that pretty mouth has said enough, don’t you agree?” You watch him with wide eyes as he presses further down your throat until the tips of his fingers reach the rough surface of the back of your tongue causing you to gag. He moves his fingers back.

“C’mon, you can do better than that,” he scolds, tapping your cheek with his other hand. His eyes narrow as he presses his fingers further down your throat once more. Your throat constricts and you claw at his bicep, fighting the urge to gag again. You hollow your cheeks, sucking his three fingers in your mouth. “There she is. That’s much better— there’s a good girl, that’s it.”

He removes his soaked fingers, a line of saliva still connected to your lips. Gasping for breath you feel him part your legs, his hand sneaking under your dress. You can feel his cool, wet fingers against your inner thighs. 

“Aem—”

“What did I say?” His words are clipped and irritated. His fingers graze against your clothed center, pressing lightly against your soaked center. You can feel how much you want him. How right he was about the jealousy that burns in your belly. You’re sure he can feel it too.

A muffled whine leaves your lips as his fingers pull your panties to the side, parting your silky wet folds. You’re embarrassingly wet already. Aemond chuckles darkly, fingers dipping against your entrance and gathering some of your arousal before circling your clit.

“You’re begging to get fucked, you know that?” he asks, his voice husky and strained, “Walking around here looking like this.” The hand in your hair tightens and pinpricks of pleasure sting your scalp. “Needy. Little. Slut.” His fingers pinch your clit on the last word and you cry out.

Aemond slams his lips against yours to silence your cry and you hook a leg around his slim waist, heel digging into his lower back pulling him closer. He kisses you feverishly like he means to devour you. It’s sloppy and his teeth scrape against your lip but you don’t care. It’s been days without him speaking to you, let alone touching you. You’ve felt like you were going crazy.

Not that you were about to admit that to him.

Your breathing is turning to pants as he continues to kiss you, fingers circling your bud with determined precision. Your eyebrows scrunch together as the current of pleasure in your abdomen winds tighter, and your toes begin to curl. You whine against his mouth and he shushes you once more.

“Shut the fuck up,” he growls through an open-mouthed kiss, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. 

You accept it greedily and your limbs turn to jelly when he licks at the roof of your mouth. One hand clings to his bicep, nails digging into the hardened muscle while the other winds around his neck and tangles in his hair. His hand dips lower, two fingers stretching inside of your warm waiting pussy. 

“That’s it,” he murmurs as you shudder at the stretch, “Fucking c’mon then—” his fingers crook upwards pressing against the spongy section of your walls that has your back arching, and black spots dancing across your vision.

“Gods—” you whine, clenching around his digits as his thumb presses against your clit. His fingers are longer and thicker than your own; you’d indulged yourself several times the past few days but masturbation was nothing compared to the pleasure Aemond is able to give you. 

“This is all you needed, huh?” he asks, steadily beginning to finger you, focusing all his attention on caressing your sweet spot. “Oh yeah. You’re so much happier with my fingers buried inside this tight little cunt, huh?” Your face flushes as he speaks to you. Every stroke of his fingers sends waves of pleasure washing over you. Your jaw slacks, eyes squeezing shut. Every nerve ending in your body is singing as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. 

“You want my mouth on this sweet little pussy?” he asks gruffly, his face pressed against yours, “Tell me how badly you want it. C’mon. Tell me.” The squelching sound of his fingers is borderline pornographic in the small space.

“Yes!” you wail.

“Beg me,” his voice is rough, the commanding tone causing your walls to spasm around his lengthy digits. 

“Please,” you whine, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. He knows your body so well. Too damn well. Every curl of his fingers incessantly bullies against your sweet spot. You can feel your walls pulsating around his fingers, squeezing him tighter and tighter and tighter. 

“Please what, baby?”

Your teeth are clenched together, and a whimper gets caught in your throat. Your eyes roll back in your skull as he slows his pace stroking just right. Your head tilts back gently tapping against the mirror, mouth hanging open in bliss as you try to find the words. 

“Please—please I need your mouth—”

“Yeah?” he says, an amused, open-mouthed grin slashed across his face, “Where?”

Seven hells he’s relentless. You bite your lip hard enough to draw blood, your heel presses against his buttock, your back arching off the counter desperately grinding against his hand for more friction. Gods you’re practically fucking yourself on his hand your hips rutting against his palm.

“Please! Please on my pus—” Your sentence dies as Aemond kneels in front of you. “Aemond—oh god,” you moan as he presses his face against you, one hand holding your panties to the side, as his tongue slides over your aching clit.

“Since you begged,” he murmurs, suckling your clit between his lips and sucking; tongue lavishing the sensitive button with even strokes.

His tongue is deliciously warm and firm, tracing little circles around your clit and making your mind go blank, the last few moments forgotten. His fingers stroke the rough patch at the front of your sensitive walls and he presses against it with brutal determination. 

Your thighs shake around his head, fingers tangling in his hair as the pressure in your belly builds, winding tighter and tighter until at last white-hot pleasure bursts through you; your muscles go taut and you cry out, slamming the back of your hand against your mouth to stifle the noise as you release barrels through you. 

He fucks you through it, a low rumble of appreciation bursting through his chest as the wet, sucking sound of his fingers grows louder with your release. The pleasure is almost too much; it ignites you completely. 

A rush of air enters the small space and your head snaps up. Aemond is quick to stand, mouth falling away from you and your release fizzles out. 

Daemon leans against the doorframe, a knowing smirk on his face as he purses his lips. His eyes follow the length of Aemond’s arm down to where it disappears still beneath your dress. Aemond’s fingers slip out of your pussy, the soaked digits dragging a wet path down against your inner thighs leaving you despairingly empty.

“Carry on,” Daemon murmurs, letting the door close behind him as he exits.

Blood rushes in your ears and the room begins to spin. It’s like Daemon took all the air in the room with him. Black spots appear in your vision. 

“Fuck,” you’re nearly panting, “Oh gods—” Your mind is beginning to spiral, the high of pleasure leaving your limbs. “Shit,” you breathe, fixing your panties, hopping off of the counter, “—fuck.”

Aemond reaches for the sink, and he turns it on calmly, beginning to wash his hands. 

“Relax.”

“Relax?”

He shuts off the faucet, drying his hands as he faces you.

“He’s not going to say—”

“Aemond,” you stop him, holding your hand up, “Just don’t.”

Fixing yourself quickly, Aemond stands in stony silence as you open the door and flee the bathroom. You return to the table, not looking at anyone. Sitting beside Jace you reach for your wine, downing the rest of it, trying to ignore the ache between your legs. 

Aemond rejoins a moment later, reclaiming his seat next to Floris. She holds out the menu, pointing at something trying to show him. It takes him a moment to get back into character. You watch him blink before slinging an arm over the back of her chair and leaning into her, seemingly very interested in what she’s showing him. 

You place your glass on the table, your leg bouncing uncontrollably. Helaena watches you, lilac eyes narrowed. Turning away from her scrutinizing gaze you subtly glance at Rhaenyra’s table.

Daemon meets your eyes, raising his glass to salute you.

Fuck.

You forgo dinner later that day, claiming the sun has gone to your head. Hiding beneath the silk sheets of you and Jace’s bed seems like a much better way to spend the evening. You try to busy yourself on your phone but your thoughts keep going back to Daemon. The smirk he wore, the look in his eyes.

Caught you.

Your stomach turns and suddenly the blue light is making you feel nauseous and you throw your phone across the room. The sun bleeds orange tendrils of light across the floor as it lowers over the horizon, the hours ticking by as you lay in silence. 

The door creaks open when the room is shrouded in darkness. The mattress dips as Jace sits, placing a comforting hand on your back.

“Hey,” he says softly, rubbing slow circles over the covers, “How’re you feeling?”

“Miserable,” you answer truthfully.

“I’m sorry baby,” he murmurs, “Do you want me to stay?”

“No,” you tell him, “I’m sure there’s something planned, you should join them.”

“It’s just a movie,” he tells you, “Joffrey picked it. Some crazy action film.”

“Charming,” you grumble as he places a kiss on the top of your head.

“Can I bring you something later?” he asks, and you don’t answer, “Get some rest.”

He gently closes the door as he leaves and the nausea comes back. You don’t deserve him. Jace knows, you’re sure of it. He knows there’s someone else. He’s just too nice to say anything. 

Whether he knows it’s Aemond you’ve been sleeping with is a different story.

It should make you feel worse than it does. 

You sit up, throwing off the covers suddenly very hot. You can’t sit in this room anymore, can’t lie down and sulk. It’s driving you up a wall, making you want to crawl out of your skin. You need fresh air. Rising from the bed, you throw on a pair of shorts and a simple t-shirt along with some flip-flops. 

The hallway is quiet when you enter; everyone must still be in the theater room or have gone to bed. You quickly pad down the stairs, the sound of your flip-flops echoing through the grand entryway as they slap against the marble staircase. Heading through the spacious kitchen you open the sliding glass doors and head out the back towards the pool. 

You see him as soon as you step onto the patio. He’s standing at the far end of the pool, a lit cigarette dangling from his perfect mouth. He glances at you, the cherry red tip pointed in your direction. He’s taken his hair down, the silver waves ripple over his shoulders. 

The pool is filled with lights dancing on the blue surface; little lotus flowers holding candles. A basket of beach towels sits next to the door and you grab one. Aemond watches your movements as you walk along the side of the pool coming closer to him.

“What are you doing?” you ask, watching him crush the cigarette under his shoe.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Didn’t know you smoked.”

“Only during times of stress.”

You nod, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth. You don’t ask him to follow you, but he does all the same as you continue to walk the edge of the pool until you reach the beginning of the yard. You walk on the grass until you reach the dimly lit cobblestone path you’d seen during the tour of Summerhall house Alicent had given the day you’d arrived. Fairy lights have been strung along the railing that leads down to a small private beach giving the path a feeling of perpetual summer. Aemond’s footsteps echo behind you sounding heavier than your own. 

As you arrive at the end of the steps you remove your shoes. Your feet sink into the sand, cooler now with the blazing summer sun not hanging overhead. 

“You shouldn’t swim at night,” Aemond comments.

“I’m not going to swim,” you tell him, placing your shoes on the last step, “Are you coming?”

Aemond hums, hesitating for a moment as he holds your gaze. He truly looks ethereal with the moonlight casting shadows along the angles of his face. That chiseled jaw, those striking cheekbones. His prominent long nose. He could have gone into modeling if not politics, that you’re sure of. 

You walk side by side further down the beach before you spread the towel and sit on top of it. You pat the spot beside you and he accepts the silent invitation to sit. For a moment neither of you speak, staring out at the waves that gently lap against the shore. The lights of the city are visible from here, just shiny little stars sparkling against the horizon. 

You can feel his gaze shift as he looks at you. What was it he said to you a few days ago?

You can’t fool me.

“I can speak to Daemon,” Aemond says softly, “Make sure he doesn’t…”

“Don’t bother,” you cut him off, “You and I are a ticking time bomb. It could have been anyone walking in on us.”

At least it was Daemon. If he releases it, he’ll spin it to make Aemond look like the sleaze; cheating on poor, doe-eyed Floris Baratheon. You don’t even want to think about the possibility of Otto or Alicent walking in on you. 

It’s always easier to scandalize women. 

If Daemon spoke to Rhaenyra, she’d make him leave your name out of it. Nameless, faceless. Just some girl. Curiosity gnaws at you. 

“Why wouldn’t you say something?” you ask him suddenly, “You could get on top of this before Daemon goes to the press. He’ll ruin you with this.”

“I’m not worried,” Aemond responds coolly, “I’m not scared of a little scandal.”

You think back to the stories you’d heard about him. The dutiful son with his sprinkle of bad decisions. Aemond cleans up his messes, unlike his elder. 

“I suppose your family is very protective of your reputation,” you agree, tucking your knees against your chest.

“You don’t have that sort of protection,” he says softly.

It’s true. The Targaryen and Hightower names are like royalty compared to everyone else. Sucking your lower lip between your teeth, you slowly shake your head. 

“No,” you agree, “I don’t.”

“I’m not going to say anything,” he clarifies, “I expect Aegon to win this campaign without the additional nonsense.”

You snort out a laugh. Even now he can’t help but try and push your buttons. It’s inevitable, the two of you. Always trying to one-up one another. 

“Yeah okay. Well, we’ll see about that. Besides, Rhaenyra’s numbers have increased steadily since the debate,” you tell him, bumping your shoulder against his. The small contact leaves a burning feeling where your skin meets his. 

“Don’t count your eggs before they hatch,” he softly teases.

“I know my chickens.”

Aemond frowns, giving you a quizzical look. “That’s not a saying.”

“Says who?” you ask, arching a brow at him. 

This is easy, this is good. Just banter. Just Aemond versus you. It’s much more simple when you’re on opposite sides of the playing field. 

“Surely someone,” he says leaning back against his hands.

The waves crash loudly against the rocks and seafoam sizzles against the sand. The moonlight reflects off of the top of the surf sending a silver trail down the middle of the water, splitting it neatly in two. 

“Why?” you softly ask, tapping your fingers against your calves.

“Why what?” Aemond asks.

“Why aren’t you going to say anything?”

Aemond stares at you, his gaze burning into the side of your face until you can’t stand it. Turning your head, you meet his heated gaze. 

“You know why.”

Your head tilts to the side, eyes not leaving his. “That’s a problem.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Aemond insists, “If we’re careful.” Aemond wets his lips, “What do you want?”

Your heart is beating so fast against your ribs it's almost painful. You place your palms against the towel, pushing against it trying to ground yourself. 

“This…” you struggle to find the words, opting for another shake of your head, “This will never work. You and I; we hate each other.”

“Yes,” Aemond agrees, his hand moving on top of yours.

“And you’re engaged,” you continue as his fingers lace through yours. Oh gods. There it is. That ache deep inside of you; a bottomless pit of want that threatens to swallow you whole. 

“I’m engaged,” he agrees, reaching over to stroke your cheek, “And you’re with Jace.”

His thumb strokes your cheekbone, hand cradling your jaw. The action is affectionate and caring. It’s so tender, so endearing you almost burst into tears. 

“I’m with Jace,” it’s barely a whisper, “I’m with—” You don’t get a chance to finish. His mouth is on yours before Jace’s name leaves your lips. There’s only Aemond.

You fall into the familiar rhythm quickly as he climbs on top of you, kissing you all the while. The sounds of the waves are deafening, matching the beating of your heart, of blood rushing in your ears. It’s too much and not enough at the same time. You want to lose yourself in the sound, in the feeling of him on top of you, pressing against you. He’s everything. He’s all-consuming. 

It’s too late for anything else. 

You’ve already been devoured. 

The heat of the morning sun wakes you, a light sheen of sweat covering you. The side of your face itches and you bring a hand to it, brushing away some sand. Sand sticks to your legs and arms. Aemond lays beside you on his back, an arm thrown over his eye to block the sun. 

“We fell asleep,” you tell him, squinting at the rising sunlight.

Whirl. Click!

A noise startles you. Must be the birds. Pushing yourself into a seated position, you brush some sand from your arm. Aemond turns onto his side, throwing an arm lazily over your outstretched legs. His hand curls against the meat of your thigh causing you to chuckle.

“Someone’s needy,” you tease, combing some hair from his face. 

He growls his eye remaining shut, but the corner of his mouth quirks in a smile.

Whirl. Click! Whirl.

Craning your neck, you raise your arms above your head, yawning as you stretch. A sliver of flesh is exposed as you do so, and Aemond reaches his hand to grasp your waist, tugging you closer. You definitely shouldn’t have fallen asleep. Jace is probably worried sick. You pat your shorts. Shit. You’d left your phone as well.

“They’ll be looking for us,” you tell him, attempting to escape his grasp.

“Let them look,” he says, voice rough with sleep, as he pulls you close, pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips.

Click!

You turn. There’s that noise again. As your ears adjust, you’re less sure that it’s simply the sounds of the birds rustling in their nests. The waves crash against the rocks, and you look over the dunes as the sea breeze rustles through them.

There it is. 

A photographer, laying on his belly in the dunes, camera held at the ready. Whirl. Click! Your heart drops into your stomach. You’re going to be sick, for real this time. 

You should have known.

Pushing away from Aemond, you pull your shirt down, dusting off the remaining sand.

“You’re a real fucking asshole,” you hiss, pulling the towel out from under him. 

Aemond frowns at the sudden change, watching as you shake the towel out before chucking it in his direction. He catches it, leaning back slightly, surprised at the force of your throw.

“What?” Aemond says, face a mask of confusion.

“Shame I wasn’t in some skimpy suit, bet the press would have a field day putting those photos side by side with you and Floris,” you tell him scoffing, “I should’ve fucking known better.”

He calls your name. You don’t turn back, shielding your face as you hear the click of the camera once more attempting to save whatever dignity you have left. You can hear Aemond struggle to sand as you move toward the stairs, slipping on your shoes. His hand wraps around your forearm as you begin to climb them, halting your steps. 

“This was not me,” he insists, “Look, Storm’s End yes, I did that but I had nothing to do with this—”

“I am such a fucking idiot,” you snap, ignoring him.

“I swear it-” You tug your arm away from his grasp, his expression crestfallen.

“I don’t even know why I’m surprised,” you tell him, laughing bitterly, “Like I didn’t know who I was dealing with.”

Aemond’s lips part, but he says nothing. You open your mouth to speak again.

Click! Whirl. Click!

“Fucking hells,” you mumble, turning away and running up the steps back towards the main house. 

Tears stream down your face, hot and wet as you continue to climb. They’ve already got their money shot. You won’t give them one of you crying as well.

#aemond x fem!reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #modern!aemond #modern!hotd #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x you #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x female reader #modern!aemond x reader #modern!aemond targaryen #aemond/reader #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen/reader #aemond fic #aemond smut #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen smut #aemond fanfiction #hotd aemond #Aemond Targaryen modern #modern au #modern aemond #modern hotd

[appocalipse]

tell me again — steve harrington

this is for @sparklingsin 's spookinktober! ♥ my prompt is: "Would you stop stuffing your face with candy for one moment and listen?" and somehow i turned this into angst + friends to lovers hehe ♥

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You're halfway between the door and the counter when you hear your name.

Instinctively, you stop. It's Steve. You peek around the shelves and see that he's talking on the phone, absently leaning over the counter, phone cord wrapped around his index finger.

“What about her?” he is saying. He frowns and breathes out a nervous laugh. You'd really like to know what the person on the other end of the line is saying. Steve shakes his head emphatically, though they obviously can't see it. “Oh no, of course not. She's nothing to me.“

A stake through the heart, it seems. A punch to the gut. You'd come to the conclusion that you and Steve were friends at the very least and two people harboring a mutual interest in trying something else at best, but it seems that in reality, you're worse than a stranger to him— nothing. She's nothing to me.

These words keep ringing in your ears. You'd like nothing more than to turn your heel and leave, but the tape in your hand needs to be returned, so you try the second best thing: finding Robin. However, this too fails. She must be in the storage room in the back…or maybe it’s her day off. You really don’t know.

You are many things. Coward is not one of them. It's especially easy to be brave when you're so angry. 

Steve is still in the middle of a conversation — no doubt with one of those gorgeous girls he hangs out with — when you emerge from behind the shelves and slam the tape on the counter. 

Shock, absolute shock blooms over his face — and then all the color drains from it, you realize, in a matter of seconds. 

“I just came to return this,” you say, chin lifted with a confidence you usually wouldn't be able to show. “Sorry to interrupt your conversation, Steve.”

He's lowering the phone, opening his mouth to say something, but you don't wait to hear. You ignore the guilt and regret on his face — perhaps more for getting caught than for saying those things in the first place, you think bitterly — and turn toward the door without waiting for an answer.

Experiencing something terribly similar to panic, Steve jumps over the counter rather than walking around it. “Y/N, I don't-”

He lands a little awkwardly on the other side but you're fast, faster in your rage, he notices, and the front door slams hard behind you long before he is anywhere near reaching it.

Robin appears from the back. Her face is a mixture of surprise and disapproval.

“Uh,” she mumbles, giving Steve a pointed look, a crooked smile. “That went well.”

🕸 ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩🕸

Someone is calling your name. 

Someone tall, unfairly handsome, and who has quite possibly the best hair in the world — someone you've been avoiding.

Steve Harrington. You don't have to turn around to know the voice belongs to him.

Ever loyal, Dustin starts to turn around to wait for him, but you turn him back around by the shoulders and keep walking. Steve is closer now.

“Y/N, c'mon,” he calls again, footsteps resounding against the concrete behind you.

You pick up your own pace — damn, you would have happily run down the road if you thought you could get away with it — but it's no use because Dustin suddenly decides to walk at the same speed as his neighbor, Mrs. Jones, does— and she is eighty years old. 

Dustin turns his head and you see his face, his expression; it's like staring at a big neon sign that says ‘guilty’. 

Understanding downs on you like a bucket of ice water. 

“Traitor!” you accuse, and are still staring at Dustin — who has the decency to look slightly regretful — when a warm hand closes around your elbow, making you jump.

“Can we talk? Please?” Steve asks. Begs.

You try to pull your arm back. It's useless. “I can't believe you told him I was here,” you say to Dustin, still refusing to engage in any kind of interaction with Steve.

“Sorry, Y/N,” Dustin smiles the kind of sweet smile he reserves to save himself from trouble and shrugs, looking from you to Steve with barely hidden delight. “I hate it when my babysitters fight.”

You're not really his babysitter anymore, although his mom still calls you to stay with him when she’s out for the night or something. You’re more friends than anything else.

You scoff, anyway. “He's not your babysitter,” you say pointedly, somewhat jealous. It's kind of ridiculous if you stop to think about it — so you don’t.

“And yet I'm the one who's always driving him around.”

On instinct, you turn your head to look at Steve, angling your chin up with fire in your eyes. 

“And which one of us gets paid?” you say.

You're too close, too defiant, and Steve feels dizzy, his traitorous eyes falling straight to your pouty lips, momentarily forgetting he's standing in front of a bunch of kids. Well, not exactly kids anymore, but…

“Oh, sweet lord,” Dustin rolls his eyes dramatically. His friends are calling out to him, already several steps ahead, and he makes a gesture with his hand asking them to wait. He then turns to you and says, “We'll wait for you in front of Mrs. Jones' house when we're done, okay? Byeee!”

“What- no! Dustin-”

Running, he looks over his shoulder and chuckles. “You better kiss and make up before we head home!”

He doesn't wait for an answer, knowing what it will be, and rushes down the sidewalk after Will, Lucas, and Mike, all wearing very detailed costumes. You make to follow them, all responsibility and focus, but Steve's hand slides from your elbow to your wrist and he holds on tight for a moment, your arm stretched between you and him.

“I can't let them go alone!” you say, putting some drama into your words to see if he wavers and lets you go.

He doesn’t.

“They do it on their own every year.”

Just because it's the truth doesn't mean you're going to let him think he's right. You haven't forgotten what Steve said before. You absolutely have not.

“You're just trying to avoid me,” he accuses.

“Well, I said I would take them trick or treating this year!” you argue. And it's a pretty weak argument, because they're all teenagers now and nothing violent has happened in Hawkins for a long time.

Steve thinks you're not as invested in Halloween as you'd like him to believe. He's seen you wearing that black dress before (he's not complaining) and these knee-high boots too (definitely not complaining), so probably the only thing you bought specifically for tonight is the pointy hat you’re using. You're a witch, a pretty one at that, but little effort was put into it.

“What do you care?”

Steve doesn't let go of your hand, but he’s not holding it tightly either; your brain doesn't register that your body can run away, though. 

Maybe you don't want to.

“I heard you say,” you add, “and I quote, 'she's nothing to me’.”

“I didn't mean it!”

“Then why did you say it?”

“I-” he opens his mouth, closes it, not sure what to say. Your hand slips from his and you turn around to keep walking. Steve holds it again. “Wait! Please, just…don't go. Let me explain?”

You snort. It's a bad idea. A smarter person would take that as the perfect excuse to smother any feelings for this boy blooming in their chest.

You open the candy bar in your hand — your favorite, which Dustin gave you about ten minutes ago, and say, “You have until I finish eating this.” 

And starts eating at an impressive speed. 

Steve watches for a moment before realizing that his time is very, very short and decreasing by the second. 

“Y/N, I- I didn't mean what I said about you. I was just-” half of the candy bar, you’ve already eaten half of the candy bar, he thinks, bewildered. “Just…what can I do to make this right? Please- just tell me. I want to fix this. Just-”

Just, just, just. You’re nearly finished eating and you're barely looking at him, barely interested in listening to whatever he has to say. Steve squeezes your free hand and tries to find your eyes and he's losing his mind and…

He grabs the candy bar and holds it behind him, arms stretched, frustration and desperation clear in his warm brown eyes as they find yours.

“Steve!” you chide.

“Would you stop stuffing your face with candy for one moment and listen?!”

Your body moves before your mind can process. You step forward as Steve steps back, keeping the candy bar safe behind him when you reach for it, at first just on instinct, then with enthusiasm, once, twice. Hopeless attempts, really, but you don't have it in yourself to give up easily.

That is until you, already up on tiptoe and desperately reaching for the candy Steve is deftly holding over his head, feel his breath on your face. A second — you’re unarmed. He senses the closeness before you do, of course, and it doesn't go unnoticed that you are the one who put the two of you in this situation in the first place.

His eyes are already on yours when you finally avert yours from the candy you’re trying to retrieve. His pupils are blown, his lips parted. Close, very close. You swallow hard and neither of you pulls away, although probably — says the voice of reason in your head — you should have.

In the end, the words come out of your mouth almost without permission, almost on their own. “You really didn't mean it?” 

You certainly look more vulnerable than you'd like.

“Of course not,” Steve says quickly, and there's the faintest trace of hurt behind his eyes as he does. “Of course I wouldn't- I never meant to hurt you.”

“Well,” you say, smiling the saddest smile he’s ever seen on you, “you did. You really fucking did.”

You don't notice when you lower your arm, giving up on retrieving the candy bar altogether. You don’t think he notices either, even though Steve lowers his own arm. But both of you definitely notice when his hand touches your cheek, gentle, warm. It's more of a reflex; no time for hesitation, for thinking about what he’s doing.

I'm sorry, this touch means.

But you close your eyes tightly, almost as if you're in physical pain, and take a very long step back, shaking your head.  For a long moment, Steve hates himself, hates the way he’s making you feel. His hand stays where you left it for a little longer, between you and him, seeming awfully empty, awfully cold.

It surprises both of you when you're the one who speaks again.

“Why did you say that?” you question without looking him in the eyes. The fear of the answer is smaller than the frustration of not knowing.

Steve shifts his weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably.

“Because- because Heidi was jealous of you, okay?” he says. 

Heidi, the wannabe supermodel he's been seeing lately. You give a particularly bitter laugh and look away for a brief moment. You can't believe it. That’s his excuse?

“What was I supposed to say?” 

"The truth!" you're not proud that you raise your voice even though you're not really yelling. There's anger, fear, frustration, things beyond your control burning in your throat. “You could have told her the fucking truth, Steve!”

“Oh, really?” Steve raises both eyebrows, ironic. "I was supposed to tell Heidi that since we met you've been the only damn thing on my mind?" He steps forward and you don't step back, caught into some sort of hypnosis, a connection you can't break even when he gets close enough to be too close. “That she has every right to be jealous of you because every time you walk into the room I don't have eyes for anyone else?"

Your heart is doing all sorts of things inside your chest. “What do you-”

“- that I'm head over heels for you… pathetically so?” he chuckles a bitter sound, though it's entirely true, then gazes at the ground when his ever-reliable self-confidence finally wavers in your silence. “Yeah, well… I thought it'd be better if I lied to her too, so I did.”

Your chest rises and falls like you've run just run a marathon. Thump, thump, thump. And then you look at him. Just…look at him. 

“You're an idiot,” you say. But your voice is soft, the way you speak feels more like a hug than an attempt to push him away, an invitation disguised as a tease.

He lifts his eyes to yours, tests the waters.

“I think so,” he whispers after a moment. Because he really is. And this close to you, he feels sillier by the second. He mumbles your name and you lift your chin as if to say 'huh?'

She's going to kill me, he thinks. One of these days. Today. 

He can almost feel the intimacy from before that day on Family Video, that comfortable feeling that always existed between you, the warm smiles and the curious looks; everything coming back. But there's also something new now, something he tried to build with all those words he’d confessed moments ago.

Steve tries not to make anything fall apart when he asks, “Do you forgive me?”

“Um…” you pretend to think deeply. “...maybe.”

“Alrigh,” he says, catching the glimpse of a smile on your face. And then… “Alright.”

And there, right in the middle of the street, on Halloween night, Steve gets on his knees. Yes, the street is deserted now — there aren't any kids around at the moment, but people in their houses might see a strange scene if they were to look out the window now; a boy on his knees in front of a witch.

He drops what's left of your candy on the floor and you cover your mouth with your hand, stifling a laugh you can barely hide. “Steve! Stop it! Get up. You’ll get your pants dirty.”

“Who cares?” he says, beaming up at you. “I'm humbly begging for your forgiveness.”

“This is ridiculous.”

He smiles and doesn't say anything, and before you know what you’re doing, your hand rests on his face. But Steve doesn't pull away; he leans into your touch and you hold your breath for a moment. 

“You're smiling, though,” he points out. 

You can't help it. 

“Do you really…” His skin is warm under your fingers and you’re momentarily unsure whether to ask what you want to know, thinking that maybe you're pushing your luck, that you should be glad you've heard him say it once, that he might change his mind. …

Steve turns his face and kisses the palm of your hand. "What?" he asks softly.

“Do you really think of me in that way?” you finally ask, now without looking at him. “Or are you just… trying to make up for what you said that day? Because if you are, you don’t h-”

Instead of answering, he stands up, wipes his knees as best as he can (not very well) and offers his hand, palm up. 

“C'mon.”

You take it. His hand in yours feels right, and you let him guide you towards a large tree by the side of the road, big enough to hide you from view.

“Soooo…you’ll kill me now?”

It's a bad excuse of a joke, a terrible attempt at easing the tension. He smiles anyway.

"Actually," Steve brings your clasped hands to his lips and kisses the back of yours tenderly. "I was thinking about kissing you."

You must be a sight — cheeks warm, eyes wide. A mess inside, a mess outside.

"You didn’t answer the question."

“I'm not going to kill you now, Y/N.”

“ No, before that…you didn’t answer."

“I know,” Steve says. "Here’s my answer."

Then he holds your head in both hands and kisses you, and something comes alive in your chest. It's slow at first, slower than you'd imagined a kiss with Steve Harrington would be, and ten times, a hundred times, better, sweeter, kinder. Your pointy hat falls from your head and you couldn't care less.

Steve takes his time. You taste like chocolate, smell like spring and he kisses, kisses, kisses, walking you backwards until you're pressed up against the tree and smiling against his mouth. You giggle when he redirects his kisses to your left cheek and hold back a moan when his mouth finds the soft skin just below your ear, nibbling gently.

"Does this answer your question?" he says against your skin.

“I, uh, don’t know, Steve,” he bites your neck lightly, then presses his lips on the spot. You sigh happily and say, “I think I need you to tell me again.”

He would be happy to tell you a thousand times more.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington #stranger things fanfic #fanfiction #stranger things drabble #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington blurb #strangertober

[the-kr8tor]

I don’t know if you’re still taking asks for fluffy Friday but could you do a fic of the Hobie x reader twin AU, where the reader goes into labor and has the twins and their reactions during and after the twins are born!! Your recent one of them seeing the ultrasound was so cute!! But now I kinda wanna see the chaos and the cute that follows lol!! I feel like the doctors would low key be intimidated by Hobie cause he’d taking care of reader but also be staring them down 😂 to the point they’re ask him to leave but he doesn’t of course!! Sorry for the long ask!! Your last fic was just to AMAZING 🤩 !!

Ahhh another twin au request! Thank you for sending this one ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, TW blood mention, Billie and Ramona AU, twin AU.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

You were in an unimaginable pain, the kind you would never wish on anyone, your voice is hoarse from all the screaming and cussing out whoever was unfortunate enough to slightly annoy you. Too bad for Hobie, your annoyance and anger were mostly thrown at him. You had him in an iron grip, he's sure his hand would be aching for days to come. He's been a great help in alleviating the pain, patting your sweaty face dry, feeding you ice chips, whispering words of encouragement and the occasional glare at the doctor who arrived fashionably late to the party.

The epidural was your best friend that you've never thought you'd even befriend. You were sure that you wouldn't need it but after what must've been the umpteenth contraction, you were more than happy to accept its friendship.

After twenty hours of labor, all the literal blood, sweat and tears were all worth it. From the first cry of the older twin came a sudden elation, then the younger came only after five minutes apart from her sister with a loud energetic cry. You were in pain, now everything you're currently feeling is extreme happiness, and also fatigue you've never experienced before.

Following all the ‘good jobs’ from the hospital staff and numerous tearful kisses from Hobie, it's safe to say you're officially a parent to the most beautiful pair of twins. Your girls, the light of your life.

With both babies cleaned and you wiped from all the fluids, they're properly swaddled and checked by the doctor and nurses, you lay almost half asleep with your babies on your bare chest. Hands securing them atop their tiny torsos. They gurgle, making the cutest sound you've ever heard whilst Hobie takes hundreds of pictures with his digital camera. He still can't believe his eyes at the little family he now has.

“Hobie,” you say hoarsely, eyes watery from all the happy sobbing and tiredness. “I think you've got all their angles covered.”

He lifts the camera off his eye, greeting you with a genuine grin. “Alright, let me have a turn at them so you can sleep”

You scoot over, giving him space to sit right next to your hip. Hobie takes the oldest first in his arm with slight trepidation and oh so careful like he's handling the finest china.

“Hi, dad's got you” Hobie looks down at his daughter staring up at him with curious eyes, he doesn't miss the fact that she mirrors your own, almost a copy of yours. With a quick peck on top of her forehead, he moves to take the youngest and smallest from your arms. You help him by cradling the back of her head. “And I've got you too”

She answers with her lips wobbling, looking like she's about to cry her little heart out. Hobie bounces her lightly, making cooing sounds that he would always make when the twins were particularly rowdy in your belly. It works, she still frowns up at her dad but the tears don't fall.

“My brave girl, huh? Just like mum” he leans down slightly, juggling his girls whilst he lifts up the blanket to cover your bare chest. “You did amazingly, love” Hobie tells you for the tenth time just in case you forgot.

You hum in reply, heart tender at the sight in front of you. Hands cupping both his elbows, your way of helping him carry the bundles of joy.

“Did you at least make me look good in the photos?” You gesture to the digital camera on the side table. “I must look horrible in all of them after all that”

Hobie shakes his head, “you're as beautiful as the day I met you, and it's impossible for you to look horrible in pictures”

“Even after almost pooping while I was pushing them out?”

“Especially then” you laugh softly, winching at the soreness.

“You alright?” Hobie scooches closer to you, sharing his warmth, taking a quick glimpse at his girls already sleeping. He's not jealous at all.

“I'm okay, promise” you drop your hands from his elbows down to his thighs, too tired to lift them for a second more. “How are they?”

“Sleeping, you should be too” he observes you closely, your eyebrows slightly knitted, hands limp over his thighs.

“We haven't even decided names for them yet” you whisper.

“We've got plenty of time for that. Sleep, they'll be here when you wake up, yeah?”

“I don't think I want to, I just wanna stare at them forever” you fight an oncoming yawn.

“Sleep or I'll name them B one and B two” he jokes.

“You wouldn't” you do your best glare despite the sleep slowly enveloping you.

“You wanna bet? On second thought Bert and Ernie sounds better”

You surrender, “alright, alright, I'll sleep” your eyes threaten to close. “I really like the first one you suggested, it's Ramona, right?”

“Love” he says sternly with hints of fondness.

You giggle, “okay, love you. All three of you” giving them one last look over, you finally succumb to sleep.

“We love you too”

#request done #fluffy friday #hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #the kr8tor's creations #hobie brown #x reader #atsv fanfiction #spider punk #spider man across the spider verse #atsv fluff #atsv x reader #atsv fanfic #atsv hobie #twins au #ramona and billie au #hobie brown x fem!reader #hobie brown x you #hobie x you #hobie x reader #hobie fluff #spider punk x fem!reader #spider punk x you #tw blood #fanfic

[taejusunju]

𝒊'𝒎 𝒈𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒛𝒚 - taesan (part 1??)

taesan x fem!reader admin: 🪱

✦ word count: 1.8k ✦ genre: fluff, non-established relationship, minor swearing ✦ summary: taesan x fem!reader, he's been in love with y/n for quite some time, and the story leads up to a confession by him. like for a part 2?? ✦ note: this is my first official fic, i tried my best

A warm spring breeze tickles strands of hair against your cheek as you rest your chin on your hand, gently swinging your feet as you wait. You admire the scenery before you, lush green trees adorned with bushes of blooming red roses when something cold and a little bit wet is pressed against your cheek. You flinch, turning around to see your best friend Taesan grinning from ear to ear as he holds two plastic cups in his hands.

"You're unbelievable," you scoff, snatching the cup from his hand and taking a long sip from the paper straw, eyeing him scornfully. Almost immediately your nose scrunches up at the bitter taste earning a soft laugh from Taesan.

"You goofball, that drink is mine," he says, reaching out to ruffle your hair and take the cup back from your hands, lightly brushing his fingers against yours. He passes you the second cup and taps on the lid. "Iced cappuccino, your favourite, you're welcome."

"Thank you," you smile, tossing him an exaggerated eyeroll as you allow your eyes to wander past him towards a strip of stalls selling vintage clothes.

Taesan's eyes rest on your face and he cups his chin in his hand, admiring the way your eyes sparkled in the spring sunshine and the sprinkle of barely noticeable freckles that dot your cheeks because you were always forgetting to put on sunscreen. He watches how you tilt your head slightly to the right when you're curious about something and how you seem to enjoy the way your bangs fall across your face, tickling the bottom of your chin. On instinct, Taesan reaches out and pushes your bangs behind your ear, not realizing what he'd done until he was making eye contact with you, his fingers resting lightly on your earlobe and your faces hovering just a few inches apart.

"Oh," he stuttered, visibly gulping as he quickly sat back down across from you. "I didn't mean to do that, it just sort of came over me-"

You let out a giggle, smiling adorably at his flustered self. "Bro Taesan, how do you not have a girlfriend yet, when you're already treating your best friend like this?"

Taesan stared back, his face unreadable. When he's silent for a few more seconds you give him a light kick from underneath the table. "Who's stuck on your mind that you can't even answer me?"

'You,' Taesan thought, holding in a sigh as he eyes your innocent and ultimately clueless expression. He gives his head a little shake and shrugs. "Nobody," he finally answers. "I don't need a girlfriend."

You raise an eyebrow at him, not buying the lie. But just for Taesan's sake, you play along, offering a light smile. "Well, if you're ever interested in dating, I've got a lot of friends you can meet." Almost as if the universe was on your side, your phone suddenly rings and you glance down. "Speaking of which, a girl I know who is very interested in you is calling," you wiggle the phone in front of his face before jumping up. "Wait here, I'll be right back."

As soon as you disappear around the corner Taesan slumps onto the table, burying his head into his arms as he groans in frustration. "Damnit," he mutters. "The only person I'm interested in dating is you, y/n." He pokes his head up enough so that only his eyes are visible as he watches the corner of where you disappeared around. "Will you ever look at me in a different way?" He sighs, presses his fingers against his eyes for a moment.

Ever since the two of you were in middle school, when Taesan was still a new student, you'd both immediately clicked and became almost inseparable throughout the past five years. You did practically everything together, from nighttime walks, to summer picnics, to accompanying each other in almost every physically strenuous activity because neither of you wanted to suffer alone. Of course you both had other friends to hang out with, but at the end of the day, you considered eachother as your go-tos. Need to run a stupid errand but don't want to do it alone? Need someone to talk to about shit while it's past 12am in the morning? It was always Taesan for you and you for Taesan.

It wasn't long before you were well into highschool that Taesan started developing feelings for you. You were one of the first people that provided him a space to be vulnerable and he adored your random bursts of energy that was always followed by complete exhaustion where half the time you would pass out on his shoulder the moment you sat down after a long day. In all honesty, many peers at school would think the pair to be dating already, had you done any romantic acts towards each other.

Though it was plain as day that you did not reciprocate Taesan's feelings at all, it was his only wish that he could get over you... soon. He tried everything, he tried avoidance (failed within 24 hours), he tried being more romantically social, he even tried listing out all your cons (he felt extremely shitty about it afterwards). But everytime he saw you, he felt like he was falling in love with you all over again so he resorted to the only other thing that he held dear to his heart. Songwriting.

He'd written countless songs upon songs about you. It was all saved into a folder that he opens now, pondering for the nth time whether he wanted you to hear them or not. As he absentmindedly scrolls through his song files, he doesn't notice that you've snuck up behind him.

"Guess who," you singsong, covering his eyes with your hands as he flinches in surprise, flipping his phone around as fast as he can. Curious, you remove your hands and bring your face right next to his, peering down at his phone. "What are you hiding?"

He moves back, flustered by how close you were and tries his best to look nonchalant. "Nothing, it's nothing, it's nobody."

"Okay, well if you have-" Taesan jumps up, cutting you off mid-sentence as he gently tugs on your wrist.

"C'mon let's go on a walk, it's nice today."

Still suspicious, you allow him to drag you along by the wrist, unaware of how fast his heart was beating at the contact. He drops your wrist almost as fast as when he grabbed it, and you wince, missing the feel of his cool hand. Wait wtf were you thinking? You blink twice to yourself in surprise and shake the thoughts away, ashamed. This is your best friend for Christ's sake.

"I was thinking," you link your arm through Taesan's and look up at him with a bright smile. "You should really meet my friend." he immediately opens his mouth in a protest but you interrupt him. "I'm serious dude, she's super sweet and kind, totally shares a similar music taste with you too."

He doesn't say anything, just silently looks straight ahead. You take it as a sign that he's thinking about it and continue, prodding his side with your elbow. "Besides, it's due time you get a girlfriend, who's gonna keep you company?"

"You," he replies simply.

You blink slowly, taken aback by his fast reply.

He peers down at you, those familiar eyes crinkling slightly at the corner as he smiles. "What's wrong? Haven't we always been doing everything together? Why does it have to change now?"

"I'm talking about your future Taesan," you roll your eyes. "You can't be with me forever."

"Why?" he stops abruptly and you jerk backwards into him, arms still linked. He spins you to face him, hands placed on either side of your arms to keep you in place.

"Taesan what are you doing," you mumble looking down at the base of his neck. Your eyes widen as you watch his adam's apple suck in a gulp, and your gaze flicks up to meet his eyes.

"Why can't I be with you forever?" he asks.

You open your mouth to reply but your words are caught in your throat as you stare into his dark eyes that seem to hold you in place. You swallow and your eyes flick across his face, looking for a part of him that'll give away this whole prank. Instead your gaze drags along the soft curve of his nose, to the wisps of black hair that almost reach his eyes, to his sharp rosy pink lips that capture your full attention.

"Y/n?" Taesan's voice snaps your eyes back to his and he clears his throat awkwardly. "Are you alright?"

"I, uh, yes. I'm fine, all good," you blubber. You look away and take a deep breath before meeting his eyes again. "Was that supposed to be a confession?" He blinks, surprised by your question. "It's just, I can't really tell if you were being serious or... uhm, joking around."

"Y/n..." Taesan laughs softly, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners when he smiles shyly at you. "I... was being serious. I meant every word that I said."

"Oh," you say, stunned. "You know, I just didn't really expect that because forever is like, a really really long time and I've never-"

"Okay enough," He interrupts you, gently cupping both hands on either side of your face. "I like you so much y/n. So much so that I don't even want to think about the concept of time, I just want to be by your side with every passing day. I don't need anybody else. Just you. The only time I ever feel alive is when I'm with you. You make me want to smile and laugh until my cheeks are sore and aching. I'm serious."

You feel a smile start to grow, and you don't bother trying to tamp it down. With every word he says, you realize how much you want him to stay in your life... forever. To be honest, you wouldn't know what you would do without someone who loved to tease you affectionately, allow you to drag them on the stupidest errands, or own that sweet, awkward, shy smile that always made your heart flutter a little bit deep down.

"This is too much for me," you groan jokingly, closing your eyes to enjoy your moment of bliss. His cool fingers move to squish your cheeks and you open your eyes to face him. "I like you too." Taesan's mouth drops slightly and you continue, "Actually, I like you a lot."

#boynextdoor #bnd #boynextdoor fic #boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor fluff #boynextdoor scenarios #boynextdoor x reader #boynextdoor x you #boynextdoor x y/n #boynextdoor taesan #taesan fic #taesan imagines #taesan fluff #taesan scenarios #taesan x reader #taesan x you #taesan x y/n #han taesan #han dongmin #han taesan x reader #ilovetaesan123

[slayfics]

A Ride Home

Katsuki takes you home.

Warnings: Angst | Denki aged up | Katsuki aged up | NSFW themes | Denki is kind of a scumbag in this sorry ;-;

Part Two

You sat in the passenger seat of Katsuki's car in a daze. You hadn't expected to spend just a little over an hour at the party. But- after being left behind by Denki, your party spirit had vanished.

Even after all the flirting from Denki making you feel special, he had quickly left you alone to talk to other girls at the party. The hurt still stung- but at least you'd be home soon.

"Cut it out," Katsuki huffed, as he drove down the road.

"Hu?" You mumbled, confused, and taken out of your thoughts.

"I told you to forget him- so stop looking so damn pathetic," he replied.

"Well, geez I'm fucking sorry my pain is such an inconvenience to you. It's not that easy to get over you know," You replied harshly. It wasn't like you were moping around on purpose. The events just happened moments ago, and it would take a bit longer than a few minutes to extinguish the crush you'd had on Denki for months now. Especially, after all the attention he gave you that made it seem like he felt the same way.

"Yeah, it is- there isn't anything special about dunce face. There are a ton of run-of-the-mill heroes running around just like him," Katsuki said.

"What!? How could you say that about your friend? Kaminari is special! I don't think I've met anyone else that could make me laugh like he could," you said solemnly, reminiscing on memories with Denki.

"A damn TikToc video can make you laugh- so there. He's not that irreplaceable. You'll be fine," Katsuki said and pulled into a gas station.

"You need gas?" You asked, changing the subject.

"Nah," he said, parking outside the convenience store attached to the gas station.

"Then what did you stop for?"

"To get ya some fucking ice cream or something- isn't that the protocol for break ups or- whatever this is?"

You stared at Katsuki shocked. You hadn't expected a kind gesture from him.

"Don't look at me that way!" he said, flustered by the doe eyes you gave him. "Do you want some or not?!"

His raised voice gave you a startle, "I actually would prefer some Hot Cheetos," you answered.

"Those are unhealthy as shit but- I'll allow it since you're sad and... those are spicy so- I respect it," he said and got out of the car. "I'll be right back, just stay here and put your address in the navigation while I'm gone," he said, shutting his door and making his way inside.

You typed your address in and then watched through the window as Katsuki wandered around the brightly lit convince store picking out your chips and paying at the counter. As you watched, you couldn't help but notice how the bright lighting accentuated his features. He definitely wasn't ugly. Your phone buzzed bringing you out of your trance.

It was a message from Denki.

Hey! Where'd ya go cutie?

You stared at your phone, unsure of what to do. Did he miss you? Why was he messaging you now?

The car door opened, and before Katsuki could think to speak, you were at him with panicked words.

"Denki texted me! What do I do?!" You asked, waving your phone in his face.

Katsuki scrunched up his nose and swatted at your phone, "I don't give a damn what you do," he replied bluntly and threw the chips in your lap.

"Why would he text me though?! He was flirting with that other girl!" You said in dismay.

"Probably wasn't getting lucky with her- so now he's back to trying with you," Katsuki said without thinking how that answer would upset you.

Your mouth hung open, "Are you serious?" you questioned, eyes full of sorrow.

"Tch- if you look any more like a damsel in distress, I'm kicking you out of this car!" Katsuki said annoyed, as he started the car up and began to drive to your place.

Your phone began to ring, "Oh crap, he's calling me!" You said alarmed. "What do I do?!"

Katsuki just gave you an irritated look that said all you needed to know. He was fed up with the situation.

You answered and brought the phone up to your ear, "Hey..."

"Hey! I've been looking everywhere for you! Where did you run off to?" Denki's voice sang on the other line. It hurt to hear his voice so cheerful, you would have loved to hear that sentence if you didn't know what you knew now.

"I uh- I left," You mumbled back into the phone.

"Left!? No way- I would have taken you home cutie! Did Mina drop you off or something?" He asked innocently.

"Uh no- Bakugo is taking me home," you answered.

"What..." Denki said flatly- his demeanor completely changed. All the sweetness in his voice had run dry.

"Yeah- I uh... wasn't feeling good- and you know he was sober so- he's driving me home." You answered.

"Mhm," Denki grunted pointedly into the phone.

"I hope you have fun though- I'll talk to you later, ok!" You said nervously into the phone.

"Wait-!" Denki yelled, but you had already ended the call.

Katsuki chuckled, "How did he take that information?"

"I don't know... I don't think I've ever heard him sound like that before... he sounded mad," you replied.

"Hah- don't think too much of it, idiot is getting what he deserves. To be alone," Katsuki exclaimed.

A notification dinged and came up on the screen in Katsuki's car- his text messages were synced to the dash. You leaned over to see it was from Denki. Denki had texted Katsuki-

The hell you doing man?

Katuski's eyes grazed the message, then focused back on the road.

"He texted you," you said stating the obvious hoping Katsuki would say something.

"Course he did- he'll do it again too," He responded.

Just as Katsuki predicted, another message came in from Denki.

Bring her back dude. That's not fair I had dibs.

"Dibs?! What the fuck does that mean?!" You said, snapping your eyes to Katsuki- furry now bubbling in your stomach.

Katsuki just sighed in frustration, "Told you- to forget him. Didn't I?"

"Wait-... is that why you're taking me home?! You're just trying to get lucky too?!" You accused Katsuki.

"The fuck!? Of course not! I'm not some damn perv like spark plug! Accuse me of that again and I'll kick your ass out little shit," Katsuki barked.

You looked out the window feeling slightly embarrassed, "I'm sorry.... I just don't know what to think anymore."

"Look- Kaminari's been feeling really big-headed since graduating being a pro hero and what not- so... he's probably not going to be settling down anytime soon. Do you get it now? Or do I need to spell it out for you even more?" Katsuki asked, stealing a glance at you looking out the window.

You sniffed and failed at holding back tears. You got the message loud and clear now.

"Fuck... don't do that- don't cry about it," Katsuki said.

You wiped your tears on your sleeve bringing in another big sniff, "I'm not-," You lied. "But... what do I do now Bakugo?"

"The hell do you mean? Just live your life- you'll forget about him- and eat your damn Hot Cheetos-," Katsuki suggested, causing you to laugh.

"You're right these will solve everything," You giggled, shaking the chips.

A small smile crept on Katsuki's face at your laughter. "Look- he's going to keep getting drunk so- he will probably call you again. He'll try to find any excuse to come over. Don't let him- unless you want more heartbreak," Katsuki recommended, as he parked out in front of your place.

"Ok," you nodded in agreement. "Believe me I don't want to see him again after tonight," You said unbuckling your seat belt. "Thanks for the ride home- and the chips," you said, and got out of the car.

Katsuki grunted in acknowledgment and waved a hand at you before taking off. You let out a deep sigh and made your way into your place.

You threw off your uncomfortable shoes and plopped yourself down on the floor. What a shitty night, you thought- but as you stared at the Hot Cheetos a smile crept on your face. Then, just as Katsuki had speculated- Denki was calling again. You watched the screen on your phone light up with his face. Such a cute picture you had taken of him- Once your phone stopped ringing you called Katsuki.

"What the hell do you want now? Thought this nightmare was over," He complained into the phone, that was on speaker in his car.

"You're right- he's calling me again," You answered, as you spoke over the phone the other line buzzed. Denki was calling again.

"So don't answer," Katsuki said as if it was just that easy.

"Yeah...," You mumbled solemnly into the phone- and Katsuki didn't know why but his stomach turned at the sadness in your voice.

"Or-... if you really want to piss him off- I can turn around and answer it for you." Katsuki offered.

A smile beamed on your face- " Yeah... I think I'd like that," You answered and pulled the bag of Hot Cheetos over.

This started as a Denki x reader and kind of ended as a Katsuki x reader. Ops- I couldn’t control what came out of me when I sat down to type it haha- Thank you for reading hope you enjoyed the ride!

Tags: @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @derangedmango @surgerbaby

#not even sure how to tag this #denki x y/n #denki x reader #denki mha #katsuki x reader #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x you #mha bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x self insert #bakugo x you #kaminari x you #mha kaminari #kaminari x reader #denki kaminari #mha x y/n #mha x you #mha x reader #bnha x self insert #bnha x y/n #bnha x you

[wolffoxnation2]

The Cupid scene but make it unrequited? Valgrace

Meant to finish this yesterday but couldn't get it done in time so heres it now. I'm not completly happy with it but im just glad its done.

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"You cannot lie to Cupid, Leo Valdez. If you let your shame and sadness rule you...well, your fate will be even sadder than mine," Favonius said, and Leo could have sworn there was pity in his eyes before the god disappeared in the wind.

Leo felt like he was back in Khione's ice palace. There was no way this wind god he just met knew his deepest, darkest, never-to-be-said-out-loud feelings. Right?.

Right?.

No, he must be talking about something else, and Leo is just being stupid and paranoid. He has to be.

Fortunately, or, more unfortunately, Leo didn't have the time to dwell on the ominous words of wind gods.

Because the ground was shaking. Why was the ground shaking?

So. A voice said.

Something zipped past his face and nicked his ear, throwing him off his feet and into Jason. Pain blossomed in his right ear, and he was pretty sure he was bleeding.

"You okay?" Jason asked, catching him in his strong arms.

Leo winced, holding a hand to his injured ear as he scrambled to his feet, trying not to think about the fact he just fell in Jason's arms. "Yeah, I'm good," he muttered.

You come to claim the sceptre. The voice said behind them, more like stating rather than asking.

Leo turned to where the voice was coming from, but no one was there.

"Cupid!" Jason called, standing at Leo's back with his sword drawn, "Where are you?".

The voice—Cupid laughed. It definitely did not sound like it belonged to a sweet baby angel's. It sounded rich and velvety but also threatening— like an ember in a fire before burning a house to the ground.

Where you least expect me. Cupid answered, As love usually is.

Leo's heart skipped a beat as something invisible slammed into Jason and hurled him across the street. He toppled down a set of concrete steps and sprawled on the floor of an excavated Roman basement.

I thought you'd know better, Jason. Cupid's voice circled overhead like a vulture. You've found true love after all. Or do you still doubt yourself?

"Jason!" Leo screamed, scrambling down the steps.

Jason took his hand and got to his feet. "I'm okay! Just sucker punched by an angel."

Oh, Did you expect me to play fair? Cupid laughed. Make no mistake; I am no angel, Jason Grace. I am Love. I am never fair. 

Oh boy, do I know that. Leo thought dryly before Jason swept him off his feet.

Literally not...not metaphorically.

Leo was swept into Jason's chest as Jason intercepted an arrow that would have gone straight into Leo's chest with his sword. The arrow exploded against the nearest wall, giving them a nice limestone shower.

Of course, Jason wasn't done giving Leo butterflies in his stomach and grabbed his hand, pulling him up the steps and behind another wall as another arrow rained down on them, shattering a column nearby into a thousand pieces.

"Is this guy Love or Death?" Jason growled, still holding Leo's hand.

Thanatos and I are often not so different. Cupid said from somewhere above, except Death is usually kinder.

Leo understood that more than he should: Death is just...well, death. The End. Just boom, you're dead! No more pain. No more problems. And if you're lucky, you get to chill in Elysium for eternity. 

While Love is...terrifying: It hurts, sometimes it doesn't last long, and some just don't get it (cough cough).

"We just want the sceptre!" Jason shouted, poking his head above the stone wall. "We're trying to stop Gaia! Are you on the gods' side or not?"

A second arrow shot at the air dangerously close to Jason's head, landing on the ground near Leo's feet and glowing white-hot. 

The arrow's temperature shot past 2,397 F (Hephaestus power.) before combusting into a geyser of flame. 

Love is on every side. Cupid said. "And no one's side. Don't ask what Love can do for you.

"Great," Jason said. "Now he's spouting greeting cards as well as trying to kill us."

"It's official. Queen was right; Too much Love kills you," Leo joked. If Love is gonna kill him in the end, then at least he wants to make Jason laugh before they both die.

Leo caught a ghost of a smile on Jason's lips before another arrow landed between them, ruining the moment.

You can't hide from Love. It will always find you no matter what. Cupid's voice said nearby.

Leo's hair sparked; the idea of burning the feathers off that smug, overgrown chicken's wings was getting more and more enticing. He knew Cupid was toying with them, enjoying their discomfort as he shot his stupid arrows.

Another arrow narrowly missed him, and something inside of him snapped.

He snatched the arrow up and threw it back where it came from. "Enough games, show yourself!"

Lucky for him, he had good aim. The arrow hit something and hung in the air for a moment before dissolving, leaving no trace: not even a spot of ichor that could help pinpoint his location.

"...Very good, Leo," Cupid said, though it was strained. There wasn't a wound, but it must have hurt. "At least you can sense my presence. Even getting a glance at true love is more than most Heroes manage. Maybe there's hope for you after all".

"So we get the sceptre?" Jason asked.

Cupid laughed. Leo was seriously getting sick of that laugh.

Oh no, there is still much you can do for me.

Jason started to speak, "But—"

An arrow shot through the air, zipping past Jason and hitting Leo square in the shoulder.

"Leo!"

There was a burst of pain in Leo's right shoulder, and suddenly, he was back at the Wilderness School again.

He had just met this cool guy, Jason. He was also a foster kid like him. Jason seemed too good for a school like this. He wouldn't tell him and Piper what he was here for, just that his case worker, Juna— Juno or something — sent him here.

Piper told him later on that she thought Jason was kinda hot.

Leo thought so too but he didn't tell her that. 

Another arrow hit him in the back this time. 

He wasn't sure when Piper and Jason started dating; it had only felt like a day had passed since they met.

He pretended it didn't hurt.

He didn't dare ruin their happiness.

So he just smiled and bared it every time they flirted with each other and told jokes every time they kissed.

"Stop it!" Leo shrieked, "None of it was real! Hera faked everything!"

Not everything, Cupid said softly, and a third arrow dug into his skin.

This time he was on their first quest in Boreas's ice palace.

Khione told them he couldn't come with them to see Boreas because of his fire.

He played it off that he wasn't hurt about it, even though it did. It wasn't the first or last time someone was scared of him.

Jason tried to defend him at first with his hand on Leo's shoulder, which only made him love him more.

And it sting more when Jason walked away holding hands with Piper, leaving him alone with Cal.

It was fine. None of it was real, not even his feelings were, and even if they were, it's not like he could act on them. He was just the funny guy, the mechanic, the seventh wheel. He wasn't supposed to fall for his male best friend, who was already dating his other best friend. He wasn't supposed to want something more than friendship with Jason.

He bit back the tears that were already threatening to fall. The grass at his feet was starting to smoke. "Show yourself!" He screamed.

It is a costly thing, Cupid said, looking on the true face of Love.

Another column shattered. Jason barely scrambled out of its way in time.

My wife Psyche learned that lesson, Cupid said, She was brought here aeons ago when this was the site of my palace. We only met in the dark. She was warned to never look upon me, and yet she could not stand the mystery. She feared I was a monster. One night, she lit a candle and beheld my face as I slept.

Jason said something, but Leo couldn't hear him over the sound of his own heart pounding in his chest. He could still somehow hear Cupid though. Of course, Love was the only thing he could hear other than his heart.

Cupid laughed from somewhere at the edge of the Amphitheater. I was too handsome, actually. A mortal can't look upon a god's true appearance without suffering grave consequences; just look at poor Semele. My mother, Aphrodite, cursed Psyche for her distrust. My poor lover was tormented, forced into exile and given impossible tasks to prove herself. She was even sent to the underworld on a quest to show her dedication. She earned her way back to me, but she suffered greatly.

Leo had no clue what he was talking about, but it sounded like he was a terrible husband.

Jason thrust his sword into the sky like he was a demigod He-man and was about to yell, 'By the power of Jupiter!' and beat up Cupid.

Unfortunately, he did not do that. 

Instead, the ground shook, and lightning blasted a crater where Cupid's voice was coming from.

There was silence, and for a moment Leo thought it was over and that they could get the sceptre and leave. And hopefully, never speak of this day again.

Leo should have known they were never that lucky.

An invisible force—Cupid, knocked Jason to the ground, sending his sword skittering across the road.

A good try, Cupid said, his voice already distant. But love isn't so easily pinned down.

A wall collapsed, Jason barely managed to roll out of the way.

That was enough for Leo.

"Hey!" Leo yelled, waving his arms around. "It's me you want! Not him!. Leave him alone!"

Poor Leo Valdez. The god's voice was patronizing and tinged with disappointment. Do you really know what You want, much less what I want? My beloved Psyche risked everything in the name of Love to win my trust back. And you — what have You risked in my name?

"I'm literally saving the world!" He yelled, clenching his fists, "I've faced way worse! You don't scare me!"

I scare you very, very much. Face me. Be honest.

Jason struggled to get up off the ground, and a piece of Leo's heart broke. This was all his fault. He knew exactly what Cupid wanted. But he didn't want to admit it just yet.

All around Leo, the ground started to heat up. Grass smoked, and stones steamed.

"Give us Diocletian's sceptre." He said, trying to put his best brave face on. "We don't have time for games."

Games? Leo's breath was knocked away as a hand slapped him sideways into a granite pedestal. Love is no game! It is no flowery softness! It is hard work — a quest that never ends. It demands everything you have — especially honesty. Only then does it rewards.

Pain blosomed from Leo's...everywhere. His head spun from the pain, and the ground started to heat up more. Stones were starting to crack, and the grass was starting to spark. All it would take was one more push, and everything would burn.

Jason was up now and had retrieved his sword, "Leo!" he called, "What does this guy want from you?".

Leo's lip trembled. Everything was going so wrong. He didn't want to admit it. He didn't want to tell Jason. "I don't know!" He yelled back, and an arrow embedded itself in the pedestal, inches away from Leo's face.

Tell him, Leo Valdez, Cupid ordered. His voice was starting to get less patient now. Tell him you're a coward, that you're afraid of yourself and your feelings. Tell him why you hide among your machines like your father. Tell him the real reason you run and why you're always alone.

Leo gritted his teeth, his entire body trembling with pain and frustration. Cupid's words cut through him like a knife, exposing the raw truth that he had been desperately trying to bury.

The grass started to burn and the stone's cracks got bigger.

"I... I can't," Leo stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can't tell him."

Cupid's laughter echoed around them, mocking and cruel. "You see, Jason Grace? Your friend is afraid. Afraid of his own feelings, afraid of the truth. He hides behind his jokes and his bravado, but deep down, he knows."

Leo let loose a guttural scream, and like a volcano erupting; everything exploded at once.

Magma burst from the rocks, splitting them wide open. The grass combusted into green flames — Greek fire —he really is going to burn everything down.

"H—haaa"

Leo laughed through the tears. It was really all he could do and all he really ever did. It was funny really; he'd worked so hard to shove everything down, yet it was all destroyed in a fiery explosion in less than an hour.

A nearby tree collapsed dangerously close to Jason as the fire consumed it. "Leo! What is he talking about?" He almost couldn't hear his voice over the fire.

Will you hide forever, Leo Valdez? Cupid taunted, who unfortunately can still be heard because not even fire can shut him up. Will you let fear rule your heart, or will you finally have the courage to face the truth?

He didn't want to face the truth. He was too scared of what would happen. What might Jason say. How he'd react.

He just wanted to keep things the same.

Even if it kills him.?

Leo sobbed, and the flames burned brighter. If this was love then he didn't want it. Or maybe if love was this painful then he deserved it. Another arrow pierced his back—or maybe that was the feeling of his heart breaking more—and more images flashed through his mind.

He was back on that mountain in Colorado. Jason had his arms around Piper, his face scrunched up in concern. Leo pretended it didn't bother him. It was cold, and Piper ended up getting hyperthermia. He had tried to ignore the aching in his chest. He didn't want to think about how much he wanted to be in her place.

After their quest, they left him alone while he worked on the Argo II. He named it after the ship the first Jason sailed on.

It was all for Jason.

He was back on the Argo right after he had fired on New Rome—Jason's home. Everyone was angry with him, and Jason was in the infirmary; some asshole threw a brick at his head. 

He didn't go down to him. He couldn't face Jason.

It was all his fault.

Jason got hurt because of him.

And he didn't even have the guts to face him.

There were more scenes like this flooding his senses. At some point, his brain switched off, and he was just drowning in agony. He couldn't move or speak.

He was weak.

Meanwhile, the flames grew to an inferno of green and reds, drowning out everything. Leo's hair was a white flame. An outline of wings caught fire for a moment before being put out again.

"Interesting!" Cupid's voice said from somewhere above. Do you have strength after all?

"I...I can't," Leo said, though it sounded more like a whimper. He was on his knees now. 

Heh, too weak to admit your feelings and too weak to stand, his mind mocked in Cupid's voice.

Still hiding, Cupid said above, a flame burned an outline of a wing tip before going out again. You do not have the strength.

Leo sobbed. He really was weak. He was going to burn everything down just because he didn't want to admit his feelings.

"Leo" Jason yelled from somewhere. "It's okay! I get it!"

Leo stared at the burning grass below him. It was too hot for tears to fall. Only steam came from his eyes. 

"No, you don't," He said defeatedly. Jason didn't understand. He couldn't understand. If he understood, then he wouldn't be so nice to Leo. "There's no way you understand. If you did you'd hate me".

And so you run away again, Cupid chided, From yourself, from your feelings, and from your friends.

The fire had engulfed Cupid's wings now. But the god laughed cruelly and blew it away.

"Leave him alone Cupid," Jason croaked somewhere. "This isn't your..."

Oh gods, he was hurting Jason again. The smoke is choking him.

Cupid's laugh echoed from above the flames. But oh, it is exactly my business, Jason Grace. Love is me. I am love.

"Leo!" Jason choked out through the smoke.

Oh, you're killing him, you're killing him. Leo's brain screamed. You're a monster, you're such a fucking monster, and you're weak.

"Look, I don't care if you're in love with Piper!" 

He doesn't understand. He doesn't. He doesn't. Leo's brain screamed over and over again.

Cupid laughed again, and Leo's will broke.

"I—I'm not in love with Piper," Leo said, and everything seemed to go silent.

The fire subsided and all of Leo's fight and denial went out at once.

Cupid circled Leo like a shark. His form was visible now—long blond hair, muscular in a simple white frock and jeans, snowy white wings that were singed at the tips. The bow and quiver slung over his shoulder were weapons of war—not toys. His eyes were as red as blood, as if every heart in the world was broken and squeezed dry into one poisonous mixture.

Leo vaguely recalled that some think that Eros was a son of Ares and Aphrodite. And he could see why:

Love and War were the most painful things in the world.

He gestured for Leo to continue.

"I have a crush on you, Jason." Leo said.

The fire died down so Leo could see Jason's face.

And he swore he saw pity in his eyes.

The End

#heros of olympus #pjo headcanons #pjo #leo valdez #percy jackson heroes of olympus #pjo jason grace #jason grace #valgrace #Pjo cupid #Writing #Wolffox's writing #percy jackson #pjo leo valdez #piper mclean #only mentioned tho #pjo fanfic

[ghouljams]

Fae!Gaz meets his darling. I have a few other fae!Gaz darling asks that I might answer because he's another that's had a few. But this one is His Darling, y'know?

"Can I have your cherry?" You look over at the man next to you, his bored expression.

"Uh." He points at your drink.

"Your cherry, they didn't give me one and it's my favorite part." You glance down at his drink, realization hitting you.

"Oh," you laugh and fish the cherry off your ice, "Oh my god, sorry. I thought you were hitting on me."

He hums as you settle the bright red fruit in his waiting hand. He tosses it into his mouth stem and all, chews it for a moment then pulls the stem from his lips. Three neat knots tied in it as he sets it on the bar in front of you.

"No. This is me hitting on you." You stare at the stem in shock, you've never seen someone do that. You've heard enough people brag about tying one knot, but three? You look at him and he's smiling, it's dazzling. "I'm Gaz, I didn't get your name."

Like a stunned fool you give it to him, and he smiles a little brighter. It feels a little easier to talk to him, he taps his finger against the bar, you want to talk to him. You're sure your friends are having fun on the dance floor, you're sure they're waiting for you, but his eyes keep pulling you back every time you look away. Your conversation flows and wanders about nothing, about everything, you aren't sure what you're talking about. Just exchanging stories, you think.

"So," Gaz drags the word out, you hum, warm from your drinks, they seem to appear every time you finish one(not that you're complaining), "what do you want?"

"What do I want?" You fumble the question, leaning against the bar and rocking on your heels, "mozzarella sticks." You nod, yeah, you're starving. You wonder if your friends would want to find a McDonald's after this. Gaz chuckles.

"No, I mean really want?" His eyes narrow, smile dropping, it's the first time you've seen his amicable expression change, "I can't pin you down, you're too…"

"Too…?" You raise your brows, this is a weird direction for the conversation to take. You'd thought maybe it would go more along the lines of 'do you want to go home with me?'

"Doesn't matter."

"I guess I don't really want anything," you tell him with a frown. Gaz laughs.

"No, no that's not possible." You frown a little harder, not a fan of the way he says that. Like you're being childish by even implying you might be happy as you are. Your therapist is going to hear about this. You tug your wallet from your pocket and pull a few bills free, probably way overpaying when you toss them on the bar.

"It's been nice talking to you Gaz," you tell him, turning to leave. He says your name and shudder runs through you, like someone walked over your grave.

"Stay," he orders you like a dog, and you can't disobey. He turns your face with gentle fingers, so he can look in your eyes again. "Now," he raises his other hand and touches his finger to your forehead, "tell me what you really want."

Your brows furrow, your mouth opening to say something, you don't really know what. For so long all you've wanted was to be happy, and by God you put the work into it. You pulled yourself out of the pit, you dragged your ass to therapy, you did the stupid exercises, you are finally happy. What more could you want?

Gaz stares at you, watches your brows, your softly parted lips, your eyes searching his like he could find the answer for you. You say nothing. He taps you again, digs a little deeper. Your eyes go glassy, you say nothing. He goes to tap you again and something clicks into place, some internal defense forces words from your mouth to keep him out of the depths.

"I guess," you drawl, "it might be fun to fall in love." He blinks, waits for a hook to catch. Nothing. Jesus Christ what the actual fuck is wrong with you? Or right with you, he supposes.

"Give me your number," he tells you, handing you his phone.

"Kay," you sound so sweet, soft for him while you type your number into his phone. You hand it back, your contact name has a little heart next to it. Cute.

"Go on doll, back to your friends," he nods towards the dance floor. You nod and start to walk away from him. He can feel his influence loosening the further you get, the more people surround you, but that's just fine. You'll be hearing from him soon. Everyone wants something, he'll figure it out sooner or later.

#fae!Gaz #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick x you #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick x oc #lets all pretend that we are happy people for a while #this is another darling that i've been holding onto because i didnt know how to write their meeting #turns out i just gotta find the right musical score for Gaz and his darlings #this is brought to you by: #lust for vampyre by I Monster

[misspearly1]

115 and 116 with joel bear? <3

Oh my Gosh! Nonnie, forgive me for how long I have taken to complete this. I'm working through my requests slowly. These prompts though?? 🥹 Oh so good for our beloved Joel bear! Thank you so much for sending this into my blog and I hope you enjoy the read. 💜

A Beautiful Thing

Pairing: Joel Miller x Y/N (F!Reader)

WC: 3.9K

Prompts: "You wrote me a song?" // "You weren't supposed to hear that!"

Warnings: 18+ Content. Minors DNI. Strangers to lovers. Love at first sight. Soft Joel playing the gee-tar. Joel being a tease. Reader worrying that she had ruined a surprise, but Joel making her feel better about it. Light Smut. Ass Groping & Kissing. Lots of Fluff with a Happy Ending.

Song Choice: It's Your Love by Tim McGraw - inspired this story, the title, and the song that Joel sings in this story. It doesn't belong to me, of course, but I'm stating that all credit goes to the original singers/songwriters just in case I need to.

AN: Ok, I was deep in the fluffy feels with this one Nonnie. There isn't any smut really - which is strange because I'm always a horny ass bish for Joel lol - but let me know if you'd like a part two with some smut. I'd love to come back to this story. 💖

You have a lot of good days and bad days here in Jackson. Everyone does. It’s just the way life goes, and although the scales sometimes tip too much on the bad side, it only makes you appreciate all the good that much more. 

Take today for example, you woke up bright and early, ate breakfast and felt energetic, then went out on patrol and came back to Jackson without a scratch before taking a shower for date night at your boyfriends house.

It doesn’t sound like much, but when the world went to shit and the chances of dying at any given second became higher than ever, then that is considered a really good day in your books. 

Besides, even if you did have a bad day, then what better way to turn it around than spending an evening with Joel Miller - your boyfriend - whom you deem to be the sexiest man alive?

You vividly remember how Joel took your breath away the first time you met him. Albeit, he was chopping wood under the summer sun with no shirt on in his backyard, but he was, and still is, the sexiest guy you’ve ever laid eyes on. 

This happened just over six months ago, and the only reason you were in his backyard in the first place was to ask for advice about carving a sculpture out of wood, but drooling over his half naked body is what you did instead for a few minutes before he noticed you were standing there.

The man caught you eyeing him up and down, and thankfully for your sake, he felt flattered rather than uncomfortable. You often think about that day and smile fondly at how he reacted to your mindless ogling. The way he blushed a little and softly chuckled never fades from your memory.

You apologised for the intrusion of course, and for staring at him too, then explained that you were there to seek his professional advice. He was a carpenter after all and you assumed he’d know how to help. The project you were working on at the time was a three foot wooden rabbit. You’ve always believed they brought good luck and wanted something decorative for your home.

Joel naturally took an interest in your project and instead of just giving you a short answer and a couple pointers, he offered you a seat on his back porch and gave some really helpful advice on what to do and what not to do. You sat with the man for twenty minutes and the conversation flowed like you were a friend to him, not a stranger. He really made you feel comfortable and welcome, even offered you a tall glass of lemonade with ice upon noticing you were burning up from the sun in the sky.

You accepted his offer, but later admitted that it was actually his voice causing you to burn up. Not only were you attracted to his looks, but you were attracted to that thick southern drawl of his too. He spoke with a pleasantly deep, yet equally soft and smooth tone, one that just captured your whole attention and drew you in.

Joel's company was captivating, and you hungrily wanted more of his attention, but even though he didn't give you any reason to end the conversation, you made an excuse to leave and let him get back to chopping wood. You didn’t want to leave so soon after meeting him, but you had already taken up too much of his time and thanked him before saying your goodbyes. His response however, was most surprising.

“Happy to help, darlin’,” is what he said to you, and the flirtatious wink he shot your way made you feel weak in the knees. It was a simple gesture, but he did it so smoothly and with a seductive smirk on his lips too that just made you all the more attracted to him. 

You left Joel that day, feeling giddy, turned on and a little lightheaded too, then planned to return three days later with a home baked cherry pie to say thanks for the help, but to your absolute surprise and delight, the man showed up at your door just as you had taken the pie out of your oven.

He wanted to see you again and had asked his brother where you live to show up at your door unannounced. You invited him into your home, shared that cherry pie over another captivating conversation and the rest was history. 

Six months later, here you are now; in a steady relationship with the man and your love for each other grows stronger everyday. You still drool over him and even consider it a hobby of yours to watch him work, especially when he’s in his workshop.

You like to be in his company and often just sit on the sofa with a book to read while he chips and chisels away at a block of wood, creating another masterpiece worthy of a place on display around his home. But more often than not, your book is abandoned as you choose to gaze upon him instead.

No matter how many times you’ve done it before, you never grow tired of admiring the way Joel looks while working. He has a little lamp in his desk, it’s dimly lit and casts a warm glow across his face which just highlights his rugged good looks in the very best way. 

The focus and patience he has with woodwork is quite impressive too. You love to see that look of concentration on his face. It’s the way his eyes glide across his sculpture and his brows furrow, or the way he sometimes presses the tip of his tongue against his lip. You don’t know why he does that, but it’s really cute and funny to see nonetheless. Suppose it’s just one of those things that some people do without realising it. 

While you often like to gaze at him in his workshop, he likes to gaze at you too, especially when dancing in the dark. It’s become something that you and Joel do almost every night. He waits till nightfall, when all the lights are off and you’re about to head upstairs to bed or say goodnight and head home. Spontaneously grabbing your hand, he’ll pull you toward his chest and sway to the sweet sound of silence, grinning brightly as you laugh with endearment.

Dancing in the dark. That was Joel’s thing. He started it, but it’s something you very quickly grew to love. Speaking of love, he often swears that your love does something to him while dancing in the dark with you. He’ll joke and say that he’s under a spell, but can’t get enough while looking into your eyes and brushing a piece of hair behind your ear to really drink in the sight of your face mere inches away from his. 

And you believe him. Believe every word of what he says. He certainly acts like he can’t get enough of your love as he finds any and all ways to adore you. “Darlin’, your love is a beautiful thing.” He’s said to you many times before in the past and you believe him, but you never forget to tell him that his love is also a beautiful thing as well. The man treasures you, thinks the world of you and keeps you close to his heart. Those feelings are mutual. You feel the same way as he does, and honestly, you can see yourself spending the rest of your days with Joel. 

Upon spending the last several minutes thinking about the man, the desire to be in his company was growing rapidly, thus making you pick up your pace to reach his house faster. He unfortunately lives on the other side of Jackson, therefore it takes a solid ten minutes to walk there depending on your speed. Usually, you just take a leisurely stroll, but tonight you’re feeling extra needy for his love and attention.

Approaching his front door with your own key in hand, a key that he gave you two weeks ago, you unlock the door and slip inside quietly without making any noise. Joel admitted that he would have given you a key to his home sooner, but he worried about how it would make you feel and assured you that the gesture doesn’t need to be reciprocated. He just didn’t want to rush you, or make you feel obligated in any way, but you wanted to. You wanted him to have access to your house like it was his second home, and so you took your spare key and gave it to him two weeks ago on that very same day. 

Truthfully, you like to spend most evenings over at Joel’s house compared to yours. You can’t describe it exactly, or pin-point the reason why, but his house just feels the right place to be. Despite that, he also has such great taste in decoration too. You admire the way he furnished his place. It looks better than yours and feels cosy, welcoming and relaxed. 

Since you could hear the familiar twang of his guitar upon entering his home, you guessed that he was out back on the porch. It’s one of two usual spots that he likes to sit and play till his heart's content. You love to listen to him, and considering you wanted to take him by surprise, you tip-toed your way into the kitchen and through the laundry room to listen at the back door. However, you didn’t recognise the tune. 

The song Joel was playing is something he hasn’t ever played before, but it started off with an acoustic that was warm and gentle. Just so soothing to the ears that you instantly relaxed as your face softened with a smile. You leaned against the doorframe and closed your eyes, listening to him harmonising with the melody that he had created. The sound of him humming was so peaceful that it could lull you to sleep right here, but then he started singing and your heart skipped a beat. 

“Dancing in the dark, middle of the night,” he says poetically, the lyrics of his song catching your attention right away, “Taking your heart, and holding it tight,” he continues and you continue to listen closely, “Emotional touch, touching my skin, and asking you to do what you’ve been doing all over again. Oh, it’s a beautiful thing,” you gasp, holding your hand over your mouth with tears welling up in the corners of your eyes. “Don’t think I can keep it all in. I just gotta let you know what it is that won’t let me go. It’s your love, it just does something to me.” 

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. It was a complete shock to hear a song so moving and meaningful, and sung so beautifully by Joel that’s about you and your love. You had so much joy exploding inside of you that it was overwhelming, though he stopped abruptly and you peeped around the door to find him jotting words down on a little pocket pad - his song book. 

He looked so enthralled as he continued where he left off, his head bobbing along to the tune as he tapped his foot against the floor. You still couldn’t believe it and almost felt compelled to pinch your skin to check if this was all a dream. Joel rarely sings for you. He plays the guitar for you all the time, but to actually sing along to his music takes a lot of courage and just hearing him sing so passionately with confidence was sending shivers down your spine. 

His voice was transcendent and mesmerising, full of affection and romance. It made you feel like you were at the centre of his world, enveloped in the warmth of his love. Though, as much as you loved to hear the man sing, it didn’t feel right doing it this way. You were essentially eavesdropping on him at a time where he was most vulnerable, and it’s not fair.

He doesn’t know you’re standing just a few feet away, and what if that betrays his trust if he were to find out? Or worse, what if it destroys his confidence to ever sing in front of an audience? The worry of this possibility made up your mind. He can’t know you’re here. Not yet and not like this. 

Moving away from the door and quietly making your way towards the kitchen, your plan is to open the front door and shut it loud enough for him to hear. Then he will stop singing, hide his songbook and you can pretend that this never happened until he is ready to play his song for you. You could still hear him as you neared the front of the house, and the sound of his voice was as beautiful as ever. 

Upon reaching the front door, you opened it and shut it again before calling out for him like this was your first entry. “Hi baby!” You say excitedly, “I’m home.” 

The music stops instantly and it makes you stifle a laugh to hear him yell back like he wasn’t just singing his heart out. “Hey darlin’, I’m in the backyard,” I know that, you thought, “Come out here. I got somethin’ to show yer.” Oh shit… You panicked, wondering what he had to show you and if you have just spoiled your own surprise. What if he was going to play the song for me tonight anyway and I ruined it? You ask yourself with a pang of regret. 

You didn’t know what to think or what to expect when you approached the backdoor for a second time, but the smile on Joel’s face brought you some comfort and relief. After all, you were eager to see him tonight and are still very much hungry for his love and attention, but if you have ruined something special, then you at least hope some of the surprise can be salvaged. 

Hurrying towards him and taking a seat right on his lap, you held both your hands to each side of his face and leaned in to plant a kiss on his lips, displaying just how much you miss him. He kisses you back ravenously and smiles like he hadn’t seen you in days when it was only last night that you last saw each other. The fact that he missed you just as much made your heart swell. 

Naturally, he laid both hands to your ass with a groping squeeze, humming deeply into your mouth with satisfaction. You like when he holds onto your ass like this. It makes you feel adored and aroused. He breaks off to look at you, his smile slowly turning into a smirk as he whispers. “Hi, gorgeous” 

“Hey, stud,” you reply and mirror his smile, though your cheeks started to burn up under his wanton gaze. “How’s it going?” You ask upon recognising the playful mood he was in and return the gesture with your teasing tone of voice, “I see that you have your guitar out here. Playing for the stars again?" 

“Oh, you saw that, did you?” He chuckles with amusement, as if he were pleased with himself and you can tell that he’s up to something since he had that look in his eyes; it was just full of mischief. You looked at him suspiciously, your eyes narrowed as he continued to laugh. “Yeah, I have my guitar out here…” he slowly bit his lip, and he did it in such a sexually provocative manner that it made you clench around nothing. “I was singing a song.” 

“M-hm,” you roll your lips together and quickly gather that he’s onto you. That’s why he’s acting this way… He knows. “And um… What song were you singing?” You try to come across like you don’t have the slightest clue, as if you don’t already know he was singing. 

His chest swells with pride as he answers truthfully, “I was singing your song, babydoll.” 

“You wrote me a song?” You beam excitedly. Even though you already knew, it didn’t take away how incredibly special you feel upon hearing the man say those words himself. Perhaps some of his surprise for you was salvaged after all. You weren’t taken aback with shock, but you felt your stomach flutter and your heart begin to pick up speed once again. He still looked so happy too, and you could tell he was savouring the way you reacted.

“Yes darlin’. I wrote you a song and I was singing it just now, but-” he looks at you with accusatory eyes, “You weren’t supposed to hear that.” 

Now you were taken aback with shock, and he began to laugh at your reaction, the sound was sweet and authentic to your ears. It didn’t sound fake or full of mockery. He just sounded so amused and happy, really happy as a matter of fact, and he ran his hands up your back reassuringly. “You weren’t supposed to hear that yet,” he clarifies, and it gives you some comfort, “It’s ok that you did, and I appreciate that you tried to make it better by pretending you didn’t hear me.” 

“Fuck…” You sigh and shake your head, blaming yourself for ruining everything. “Did you know I was standing there the whole time?” You ask incredulously. 

“No, not quite, sweetheart.” He replies, thus causing you a great deal of confusion. If he didn’t know I was here, then how did he know I heard him singing? You wonder while he continues to smile and shake softly with a chuckling laughter escaping him. He’s too happy, and that look on his face spoke of pleasure. 

“Wanna take a wild guess as to how I knew?” He asks, then pauses briefly with one of his brows raised, as if giving you a chance to think about his question before answering. But you didn’t answer. You couldn't answer, so he did instead. “Since when do you come home and announce you're here?” 

“Oh my God, Joel,” you cry out with embarrassment. Burying your face into his neck and lamenting over your mistake, you could still feel him shaking ever so slightly as he continued to laugh at your failure. “Of course!” You moan into his shirt with a ghost of a smile on your lips. “How could I have been so stupid and forget about that. Of course you would know something was up.” 

“You’re not stupid at all. Don’t say that, babe,” he chides. Sliding his hand up your spine and cupping the back of your head, his embrace tightens a little as he plants a kiss in your hair, the action making you feel less disappointed with yourself. “I know you were thinking what’s best for me,” he says, hugging you closely, “And that’s something special right there, doll.” 

Tilting your head to rest your cheek against his neck, his words gave you even more relief and comfort, though the worry around fucking everything up still remained. You lift your head to look at him, expressing a look of regret in your eyes and ask: “When did you originally plan to play me the song?” You sigh, chewing on the inside of your lip with self-annoyance, “I just feel really bad, you know? Like I ruined something special you had planned to surprise me with.” 

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he promised. Shifting his position a little more to aid his comfort, he leans back and kicks his feet up onto the table before pulling you to sit directly over his crotch. The action was nothing out of the ordinary, he prefers you to sit like this as much as you do, but it made you gasp softly upon feeling his bulge press into your heat from below.

He heard the noise you made and recognised the way it made you feel, causing him to smirk before resting his hands to your ass once again. “I hadn’t decided when to play it for you,” he answers, shrugging. “I just couldn’t make up my mind… was overthinkin’ the how and when to do it, but I shoulda’ just played it for you a long time ago.” 

“Wait…” You tilt your head at him, confused, “What do you mean by a long time ago? How long have you been working on this?” 

He grins brightly, his cheeks starting to blush a little from your questions, but he had no problem in answering them truthfully. “Six months ago, right after I met you in our backyard,” he says, and it really takes your emotions on a rollercoaster ride as you don't know what to say or what to think. Though, your silence didn’t discourage him and he continued. “I knew you were different darlin’, and as soon as you left me, I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about yer,” your face burns with flattery as you absorb his compliments. “Couldn’t even get back to chopping wood. I was that head over heels for yer… So, I grabbed my guitar and started playing something I never played before.” 

“Really?” You manage to break your silence to ask.

“Really babydoll.” He responds with an affirmative nod. “The tune came first, but the lyrics came later and…” he pauses momentarily to brush your hair behind your ear and gaze into your eyes. “...That day I showed up at your door and we shared the cherry pie in your kitchen? That’s when I knew for sure you were different. I knew in my heart that you were something special, Y/N.” 

“Joel,” you blurt his name with an elevated tone in your voice, your smile displaying nothing but delight and rejoice. “Did I really make you fall that hard for me?” You cry out and laugh sweetly, as if you couldn’t believe him even though he’s just said it himself. He fell just as hard as you did the moment you laid your eyes upon him. The feeling was mutual. It always has been. 

“Yes ma’am, I did indeed,” he drawls thickly, the crows feets around his eyes deepening, “And showing up at your door unannounced was the first best decision I ever made in our relationship.” He details, though it piqued your interest and you had to ask: “If that was the first, then what was the second best decision you ever made?” 

Joel pulls you in, placing his lips to your cheek with a tickling kiss as he whispers teasingly. “I’m sure you can figure that one out,” he chuckles softly before peering into your eyes and holding your line of sight. You hear the way his breath hitches in his throat, see the way he looks at your lips and smiles, his eyes expanding with love and devotion. It’s the way he looks at you every night, and sure, you could figure out what the second best decision he ever made was, but you wanted to hear him say it himself. You wanted to hear him ask you that question. 

And not a second later, he did ask you that question, and your answer was an immediate yes.

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[justwritedreams]

Facetime calls with EXO members ❤️‍🩹

Morning calls definitely

So that your day starts more than well 🥹

I really think he's a very romantic guy

Like, very

So his morning calls would be very affectionate

To wish you a good day at work

Or to see your face when the flowers he sent you arrive in the morning 😍

Sometimes to show that he is at your door to give you a ride

Always say that he believes in you and loves you for the strength you have 😭

And I believe he would do this EVERY DAY

Maybe to make up for how much you miss him every time he's away

Oh and don't even get me started when he just starts singing to you!!

I'M GONNA CRY

I have to be honest, I don't think he's a big fan of facetime calls

Bc I think he prefers real life talks yk

Looking into the eyes, touching

But considering that both of you have busy schedules, talking on the phone is the solution

And I think with him it would be to relieve stress

You know, the escape valve from a tiring day

So most of the time it would be nocturnal

He just needs to hear your voice to forget everything else 🥹

You tell him how your day was so he can smile

No matter how silly the details are, he will want to know everything!!

And it's effective!

Bc as you talk to him, you can see that he is only paying attention to you

And when he didn't respond at all

You'd be like "what's up?"

And he would smile happily like "I love you, you know"

OH GOD 😭😭

Okay so, he is the father of two children

I'm almost sure that his calls would be to show something or teach something

For example, him teaching you how to change a light bulb when he's not home 🤣🤣

I don't know but I think that with him the calls would be about everyday life

How expensive the food is or him choosing what flavor of ice cream you want because he will bring it to you

Small everyday details that make a difference

He seems to me to be so light in the sense of living life as simply as possible

So he'll share whatever, even if it's a 15-second call lol

Oh and I don't doubt he would make a call in the middle of the night to make a dad joke

And would laugh loud enough to wake up all his neighbors, main singer privileges lol

Oh my poor baby 🥺

As much as this man travels for work, it's no surprise that most of the year you talk to each other on phone calls

I think with him it would be a mix of everything

And there wouldn't be a time bc well, jet lag sucks, right?

He would try to call you at a time that wouldn't disturb you

So he would always be worried about the time so you could rest

Even if it meant him staying up until dawn 🥹

It would be a long conversation, that's for sure

Bc I know he would want to share everything he did, saw or learned He would be super happy to show you the landscape outside the hotel he is staying in

But would be sad to be far from you 😞

He would try to act strong but deep down you know he just wanted to be with you

But you know, it would be a good idea for you to travel without him knowing and go to the door of his hotel room

And when he answered the door he would be holding his phone like "what are you doing here I am literally looking at your face on the phone?"

And you'd be like "surprise 😏"

Random, inconvenience and silly calls

I don't know how but his timing would be perfect for when you have a towel on your head after washing your hair

Or with your sheet mask on your face

And I know he's going to take a screenshot so he can use the photo as a meme

He would have a huge “I got you 😆” smile

And you'd be like "don't you dare🤨"

He would dare anyway

He would probably call you and say random things like "do you think aliens exist?"

And you would have a long debate

That wouldn't even have an ending

But it was just bc he really wanted to talk to you and bc he didn't have a specific topic

You would talk about everything

So at the end he makes a pout like "I miss you" 😭😭

Incurable romantic and you can't convince me otherwise

Hate calls but he do it anyway

Mainly to show where he is recording, be it a film, a series or an album

If it's a song, I think he'll want to know your opinion first than everyone else

Bc he knows you will be sincere and he takes a lot into consideration bc you know he works hard

He will end up confessing that the song he thought of you when composing it 🥹

And if it's a movie or series, he'll probably show you the clothes and accessories like "look they're going to give me a sword 😆 it's a fake one but okay🙄"

He will probably accidentally give you spoilers lol

Lowkey romantic okay but don't push him

He's just going to share it with you bc he's excited but it's going to have to be quick bc he has to record it soon

So the calls will be very quick

But they will have a greater meaning than it appears.

I'M NOT READY FOR THIS ONE 😭😭

Y'all know he's my bias, right

So, no one can convince me that this man won't literally compose a song for you on calls

He will simply call you to show him playing the piano or guitar

And if you don't look at him with the biggest "I'm madly in love with you" face YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG!

He's a hopeless romantic okay??

Like, I can totally see sparks in those big eyes 😭😭😭

He will definitely sing to you until you sleep

And you would miss his proud and passionate smile that he would make

WHY AM I DOING THIS??

Neither of you will want to hang up lol

But eventually you will, always saying "I love you" to each other 😭😭😭

Okay sooo I think with him would be pretty cute at the beginning

And very spicy at the end if you know wHAT I MEAN

Night calls!!

He would start by talking about how his day was while simply eating like a normal person

But he's not really a normal person

Have you ever seen this man, seriously?

It would be very difficult not to get lost in the way he moves his lips to eat….

Yeah, he's a walking sin

So let's just say the night will end up pretty satisfying in parts for both of you

YOU GOT IT RIGHT??

I don't know why but I imagine him being very shy afterwards lol

You'd be like "well, that's not exactly how I wanted the night to end"

And he'd be like, "Did it at least relieve the stress enough for you?"

Well, okay maybe not that shy after all

Oh Sehun lol

He would call you constantly for "very important matters"

The matter 👇🏻

Giggling bc he call you to decide which outfit he should wear

And you'd be like "you look good in everything!"

And he'd be like "of course I know that 🙄 but I need help"

Eventually you would help him and he would be very grateful but embarrassed

Then he would try to shamelessly flirt with you in jest

"I look better without clothes but this one looks good

And you'd be like "why do you do that"

"Why? Do you deny that it's true? 🤨"

Yeah, he changes his personality pretty quickly

But you don't deny

Can you??

Honestly, he just needs an excuse to talk to you

He'll call you every time he dyes his hair!!

He's a baby so you don't have much to do

Except, praise him and say I love you

And actually say I love you, bc I can see him waiting for you to say it with that sassy face of his

Like "I don't want you to say me too, say it straight"

#exowritersnet #exo scenario #exo scenarios #exo reactions #exo x y/n #exo x you #exo x reader #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #kpop x y/n #kpop x you #kpop x reader #requests #maari #maari's best anons 🫂

[dizzyjelly]

Beautiful Girl

Read part 2 here!

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: you have to go to lunch with your terrible father and Abby comes to the rescue, bringing you back to her house afterwards where you guys kiss.

Cw: homophobia, bad relationship with father, daddy issues ig

You set your phone down, bringing a hand to rub down your face frustratingly as you'd just gotten off of a twenty minute call with your father. A man you weren't very fond of, he'd never been the best. When you were younger, he was always making you cry, and that hadn't changed even though you'd gotten older. Mostly, it just bothered you how He could talk to you the way he did, say the things he said.

You stood to make your way to your kitchen, already dreading lunch with your father later. It wouldn't be the worst, but it'd be the worst. Every time you had to sit down with him, the conversation always went south. It was anything but nice.

Then your phone buzzed, and you let out a guttural annoyed groan as you threw your head back in annoyance. What did he want now? But, much to your surprise, you'd actually gotten a text from someone else. Somebody whose name on your phone put a smile on your face. Abby, your best friend.

'Wanna go thrifting? There's this super cool spot that just opened downtown:))'

As desperately as you'd wanted to say yes, you already had plans, unfortunately. It took nearly every bone in your body to not fake sick and cancel with your dad. But you were better than that.

'Sorry I can't today :/ going to lunch with my dad.'

You responded.

'Oh, you alright?'

Abby would answer, knowing all too well about how terrible your father was.

'I'll be fine. Very unexcited but I'll get through yk'

You'd say, telling nothing but the truth.

'Ok, well just call me if u need anything'

She answered, you let out a light chuckle fondly. It was nice to know there was someone that would always be there for you. Abby never failed to remind you of that.

Eventually it was time for you to head out, which you did reluctantly. You'd worn this dress you bought the other day, and it had already become your favorite item in your wardrobe. You turned up the radio as loud as it could go on your way there, trying your best not to list every worst case scenario in your mind.

Once you arrived, you sat in your car for a good minute or two. Then you'd gotten out, entering the local diner to find your father already waiting for you. He smiled at you before it quickly turned to an uncomfortable grimace as he eyed you up and down. You bit back a scoff and just smiled back.

"Hi, Dad!" You did your best to feign excitement as you went to give him a hug.

"Hey darling, you look... fun." He chuckled awkwardly.

"Thanks I guess." Your voice was plain and unamused.

"No sorry I just- new dress?" He asked.

"Yeah! I got it the other day actually, you like it?" You asked with a smile, excited that he'd noticed.

"Mm, sure." Jesus he was a terrible liar.

"Come on dad, if you've got something to say just say it." You snapped slightly.

"I mean- it's a bit skimpy, no? Listen I just think if you dressed more modestly you'd do a lot better." He brought his hands up defensively as he spoke.

You let out a shock gasp, your brows furrowing. You really shouldn't have pushed. Because now you just felt insulted, and uncomfortable in your own skin. A waitress came and told you to sit anywhere you'd like, you followed your dad as he chose a booth.

Then, the kind lady came back with two menus and glasses of ice water and a smile. You took the menu and the water, gulping down a few sips as the lunch was already going terribly. Your eyes skimmed the menu, deciding on a basic and safe chicken fingers with fries. (Picky eaters rise 👊)

Your dad would order something complex, that you weren't even slightly interested in. He'd ask why you always ordered just chicken and fries, claiming it was boring. You'd respond with the fact that it's something you know you like.

You tried your hardest to avoid talking about yourself while you waited for your food, encouraging him to ramble on about his work and other projects he had in the works. Your efforts failed, because of course he'd find a way to direct things back to you.

"You know, Y/n, there's this guy I work with. He's very nice, fairly good looking. I think you two would get along well." He smiled smugly.

Now you let your eyes roll, a small groan coming from you.

"Dad, how many times do I have to tell you I'm not into guys?" You reminded him, and immediately he shifted in his seat with discomfort.

You'd come out as a teenager, your mother had been confused but was supporting nonetheless. Your father on the other hand, he was beyond angry. It wasn't the first time he'd tried to set you up with a guy, a trend that'd been going on since the day you told them you were gay. He insisted you had no idea what you were talking about.

"Look, I know you think you like girls but- honey I just think you're not like that. I-I know it in my heart." He brought his hand to his chest dramatically.

You let out a small huff through your nose.

"Ok well I know that I in fact do like girls. I don't really care whatever your heart is telling you, because mine only fancies women." You sighed once you finished your small rant.

"Are you kidding me right now?" He spoke aggressively.

He opened his mouth to say more, but was interrupted as your waitress came by with your food. You thanked her and your father just nodded, paying no attention to the plate in front of him as he turned his focus back to you. You swallowed nervously.

"Listen to me girl, I am tired of being embarrassed to tell people about my daughter. My gay daughter. Honestly, it's disappointing. Why can't you just suck it up and be normal? Is it really that hard? For your old man, please." He spoke sweetly towards the end, but the words before shot through your heart like a sharp dagger.

Tears welled in your eyes and you felt extremely hurt. Your chest felt heavy and there was a deep pit growing in your stomach. Your mouth fell open in shock, and you stood as you grabbed your bag furiously and stormed out of the diner.

It took you way longer than it should've to fish your phone from your purse, tears now streaming down your face relentlessly. Your breathing was shaky and erratic as the sound of your phone ringing filled your ear, you waited for Abby to pick up. She answered after about three rings.

"Hey, what's up?" She answered gleefully, but immediately began to worry as she heard how you were barely breathing on the other end of the line.

"Hey, hey what's going on? Talk to me." She spoke fast now, something she always did when she was worries.

"Ugh, it's my s-stupid fucking d-dad." You managed to choke out, harsh sobs interrupting your words, "can you c-come get me pl-please? I'm too w-worked up to drive right now." You hiccuped.

"Of course, can you please just breathe for me? You sound like you're gonna hyperventilate." She let out a light chuckle, trying to lighten the mood with a joke.

After a few failed attempts, you finally got your breathing regulated enough that you could form a sentence. You let out a long sigh of relief, sniffling as you put your phone on speaker to share your location with Abby. She was just getting into her car.

You sat on the phone in silence for a while, the light hum of her radio being the only sound. That and your small breath along with your sniffles. You brought your hand to wipe your tears, which were still pouring out as you couldn't get your fathers words out of your head.

They just played on repeat, disappointment, just be normal, embarrassed. It just hurt, you knew he wasn't fond of your sexuality but that was harsh. He'd never gotten that mean, but now that he had you had no interest in ever going to lunch with him ever again. Or any other meal for that matter. You'd be happy if you never even spoke to him again.

Abby arrived after a short ten minutes, rushing up to where you stood outside the diner. She pulled you into a hug, one of her hands rubbed up and down your back soothingly. The other one went to the back of your head to massage your hair. You melted in her embrace, your tears wetting her shoulder.

"It's ok. I've got you." She whispered, her tone soft.

"Abby," you let out a small whimper, "h-he was just so m-mean." You sniffled, burying your face into the crook of her neck as you searched for comfort from her.

"I know, I know. Don't even worry about that right now." She reassured you, tears forming in her own eyes at how upset he'd made you.

As if things couldn't get any worse, he happened to stumble upon the two of you. And of course he'd jump to conclusions, immediately starting to yell at you.

"Oh, and whose this? Your girlfriend, hm? I mean seriously, you're just gonna flaunt it in public like this?!" He held his hands on his hips.

"Oh my God, Dad, no! Just stop it, I don't care what you think!" You shouted back now, fed up, "just leave me alone, I-I hate you!" And that was the last thing you said before running to Abbys car and getting into the passenger seat.

She stopped him from following you, saying it'd be best if he just left it alone. She told him you'd come around in a day or two, but knew it wasn't really true. Then she made her way to the car, driving off in silence as she worried about you.

Your head turned away from her, and you chewed at your thumbnail as you stared out the window. The tears had stopped but you felt just as hurt, and you weren't entirely sure when you could get those stupid words out of your head. Soon, hopefully. Abby had taken you to her house, since it was closer.

She'd gotten out of the car with a defeated sigh, making her way to open your door for you. You'd muttered a small thank you then followed her inside, taking a seat beside her on the couch. You didn't really think before snuggling into her side, the main reason being that you needed comfort right now.

She was more than happy to give it you, wrapping her arm around your shoulders as her other hand came to hold one of yours. You sniffled slightly, feeling tears well in your eyes once again.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" She asked in a whisper, the feeling of your tears wetting her shirt making her feel nothing but sympathy.

"Not really. He's just such a piece of shit." You cleared your throat.

"Yeah, I know baby I know." She caressed your arm lovingly.

"You know what he said? He told me I was a disappointment" your sobs became more erratic as you repeated his words from earlier, "asked why I couldn't just suck it up and be normal." It honestly physically pained you to say it.

"Fuck," She groaned, "Well he's insane. Y/n you're perfect, there is nothing wrong with you, ok?" She took her hand from yours and brought it to your chin, forcing you to look up at her.

"Ok." You responded with a small nod, although you didn't really believe what she said was true.

It was impossible to keep your eyes locked with her own, instead they focused on her soft chapped lips. They looked unbelievably kissable, but you figured she was straight. You'd only ever know of her relationship with Owen, and she probably didn't even like girls.

Maybe you were dreaming, but you could've sworn she was doing the same. Looking at your lips while licking her own. The words 'she's straight.' playing on repeat in your head. However, they stopped as she leaned forward and brought her lips to your own.

It was better than anything you ever could've imagine. The way she sucked lightly at your bottom lip, keeping a tight grip on your chin. You sighed dreamily into the kiss, bringing your hands to her hair. After a moment you tugged lightly and she let out a breathy moan against your lips. This gave you perfect access to slip your tongue into her mouth.

She tasted fucking amazing. It was only a few minutes until you were full on straddling her, her hands on your hips as he tongue swirled around your own in a way that made you see stars.

Once you'd finally pulled away, you sat in her lap, the two of you catching your breath as your hands rested comfortably at the back of her neck. She smiled up at you, rubbing at your hips.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that." She spoke breathlessly.

"Really?" You chuckled, "You know I always thought you were straight." You joked.

"Please, with a beautiful girl like you walking around how could I not be into women?" She joked back.

You let out a flustered laugh, your cheeks turning red at the compliment. After a second or so, you let yourself lay on her chest, resting your head on it and smiling as she rubbed your back soothingly.

#abby x y/n #abby x you #abby x reader #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson

[corazondebeskar-reads]

well it's love, make it hurt - ch. 9

nine: it doesn't feel a thing like falling

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

dom!Din Djarin x sub!f!reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: You discover the Razor Crest has a cell for bounties. Mando is more than happy to make use of it.

Warnings: bdsm, established relationship, dom!Din Djarin x sub!reader, restraints, caging, spanking, cockwarming, oral (m receiving), gags, aftercare, soft dom Din, no y/n

Originally written for Kinktober Day 24 - brat/caging, inspired by @absurdthirst’s wonderful prompt list.

also on ao3

You hadn’t managed to catch Vanda at the coordinates Madame Anissa gave you, but you had managed to get a tracker on one of his associates’ ships. It takes a little of the pressure off, which is good because chasing these fuckers is eating up your fuel budget.

You’d caught a little easy money on the way and stopped to drop them off. Vanda and his gaggle of ex-ISB are just a few planets over. You're up in the cockpit, Mando punching in his calculations for the nav, when you notice a soft hissing noise from below.

“Shit, those idiots didn’t reconnect the seal,” he says, moving to stand.

“I got it.” Better than taking over the jump. Someday, you'd pay better attention or ask him to teach you, but right now, you'd be about as much use as a Wampa herder on Tatooine.

When you get into the back of the ship, it takes a few minutes to figure out how to engage the re-sealing process. You haven’t technically been back here. When you first started flying with Mando, you had peeked, but the carbonite bodies were too unsettling.

You were more than happy to let him continue to haul them to the ship and ice them.

It’s not too complicated of a system, so once you're satisfied you won’t be poisoned from a gas leak, you close and lock the panel.

And then you see it.

To the left of the empty carbonite storage is a small cell with floor-to-ceiling bars, big enough for one large being. Mando always froze bounties, and it hadn’t occurred to you that the Crest was even equipped to hold an alert quarry.

You reach out. Like your hand is drawn to it without your consent, testing the lightest touch with the pads of your fingertips. It's cold and rough metal. You wrap your hand around a bar and shake, but it has no give.

“What are you doing?” Mando says.

You jump about an inch out of your skin. “How are you so fucking quiet?”

He doesn’t bother to answer you, instead slowly looking you up and down. “What are you doing, cyar’ika?”

“Oh, um.” You let go of the bar. “Just, uh.”

He cups your cheek in one gloved hand. “Just a little curious?”

“Yep, and now I’ve seen it, so.”

His grip tightens, holding your jaw when you move to sneak around him. “No, don’t run off.”

Oh, kriff. His voice is low and breathy. You try to hold very still.

He chuckles. “Go on, cyar’ika. You can take a closer look.”

You don’t move, don’t dare look away.

He reaches behind you and punches something into the keypad. The door pops open, the metallic vibrations reverberating in the small room.

His hand lowers to your shoulder, and he pushes, oh so gently, until you take a step back. And another.

He shuts the door. The lock slides into place with a clunk and a sharp beep.

You’re still staring at each other. You wet your lips with the tip of your tongue and step forward, grabbing the bars in each hand.

“You going to keep me locked up in here?” You’re not sure where the boldness comes from, but you put on your best pout.

“Maybe I should. Keep you out of trouble.”

“I won’t be any trouble. I’ll be good. Promise.”

You both know he’s going to let you out. You have to be buckled in for takeoff. But just for a moment, you’re entranced.

He laughs. “I don’t know. Sluts like you don’t know how to be good.”

You’re aching. Dripping. Salivating.

“Please, sir?”

“You have one chance,” he says, reaching to open the cell. He pulls you out by the arm. “Get your ass in your seat and be buckled before I get up there.”

You scramble to obey. By the time he climbs the ladder, you’re squirming, one knee jerking up and down in a fluttering rhythm.

He doesn’t say anything. He looks you over and then straps himself in. By the time you’re on the route, you’ve nearly edged yourself in anticipation. So when he unstraps himself and moves about the cabin without giving you permission to get up, you whine.

“I thought you were going to be good?” he calls from somewhere behind you.

You swallow down the next whine, but you’re losing the battle.

He goes back to his seat, legs spread wide. “What are you waiting for? Get over here.”

You gasp. “But—”

“But what? Make yourself useful, or you’re going back in the cell.”

You feel a little lightheaded. This isn’t his style, but it’s fucking thrilling. You scramble to unbuckle and situate yourself on your knees at his feet.

He looks down at you, helmet tilted. You open your mouth and stick your tongue out.

“Maybe you do have a brain in there somewhere and not just a warm hole,” he says.

You can’t help the desperate groan that escapes your waiting mouth. He sticks two gloved fingers in, pressing down on your tongue.

“Listen,” he snaps his fingers in front of your face. “I have things to take care of. I don’t have time to keep you out of trouble. So what you’re going to do is sit here and keep my cock warm so I can keep an eye on you. Understood?”

You nod, which pushes his fingers deeper into your throat. He pulls his hand out and slaps you across the face.

“I expect an answer when I ask you a question,” he says.

“Yes, sir.”

He slaps you again. “That wasn’t a fucking question.”

You moan.

“Yeah, I know. All you can think about is cock.” He pulls his out, and you move to take it.

He grabs you by the hair and holds you an inch away. “You’re going to hold still. No licking. No sucking. You’re only here so I have a warm, wet place to keep my dick.” And then he shoves you on it, pushing your head down on his lap.

It takes a lot of effort to hold still. You swallow a little too hard once, and he swats you on the ass.

His arms wrap around you, and you think maybe you can relax, after all. His scent and heft are soothing, and his embrace is nice.

Until he reaches for the datapad, and you realize he’s using your back as a fucking table.

You moan, eyes rolling back into your head, and he spanks you harder.

He pulls you off by your hair. “You really don’t want to be distracting me right now,” he says and pushes you right back down on his cock.

It’s agony. Every so often, he twitches a little, or precum leaks out, and you can’t do anything about it, and your throat aches. Not because he’s hurting you but because you need it, you need him. You don’t mean to, but you rock back and forth a little.

He doesn’t pull you off this time. He wraps his hands around your neck and squeezes the sides. It doesn’t last long, just enough that you start to feel tingly, and he lets go. Somehow, by the light of the stars, you hold still when he releases you.

“Oh, good girl,” he croons, rewarding you with a soft caress on your cheek.

You do okay for a while. It feels like an hour, but you have a bad feeling it’s only been five or so minutes.

The worst part is that you can’t stop thinking about what he’s doing on the datapad. He sure as hell doesn’t have work of any kind. The idea that he might be sat there watching a holo or reading while you suffer makes you a little petulant.

When you just can’t take it anymore, you start to test your boundaries. He doesn’t react when you squeeze your throat just a little. You press your tongue gently against the underside of his cock. You shift a little to ease the ache between your thighs and earn a hit for it.

You whine, and he yanks your head off his cock. “Naughty girl. You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

“No, sir.”

“That’s not an acceptable answer.” He yanks you up so your top half is dangling off the side of the seat, holding you down securely by the waist, and spanks you.

There’s no build-up, no breaks. He doesn’t even make you count. You’re getting dizzy. All you can do is lay there and take it, huffing little moans and yelps. It hurts, and your skin is burning, but you’re rolling your hips against his leg.

“Are you going to cum from this?”

You moan, trying to grind down on his knee.

Smack. “Go on then, slut. Cum.” He doesn’t let up, landing sharp, hard strikes while you fall apart.

Once you’ve ridden out the aftershocks, he runs his hand across your ass. The gloves are rough, leaving you whining as they scrape your raw skin.

“Well, we can hardly consider that a lesson learned. Get down there and wait for me by the ladder.” He lands another hard hit to your ass once you’ve stood.

When he gets down, he pushes you against the wall and cuffs your wrists behind your back. He uses your arms to steer you to the back of the ship.

“No, please,” you beg. “I can be good, I promise.”

"Then you should have been good upstairs. Too late for that now."

He pushes you against the bars, laughing when you yelp from the cold. “Open wide, cyar’ika.”

You do, and from behind you, he fits a ring gag into your mouth and secures it behind your head.

“What do you do if you need to use your word, pretty girl?”

You snap your fingers three times behind your back.

“Good girl. Now get on your knees in the cell.” He pushes you in and locks the gate.

You drop down, wincing as you hit the durasteel floor. But your head is fuzzy, and your clit is throbbing, and the only thing that matters is Mando.

You’re looking up at him with wide eyes, offering yourself up to be consumed. He reaches down and tugs you by your collar until your face is pressed against the bars. There’s just enough room for him to shove his cock into your mouth.

“Go ahead, suck it.”

You whine, flattening your tongue and licking, but you have no way to get more of him in your mouth and no way to properly worship it.

He feeds a little more of it in. “I thought you wanted to suck my cock, cyar’ika? It’s right there.”

You whine again, saliva pooling and dripping to the floor.

“What, you need some help?” He grabs a handful of hair and holds you there, thrusting deep into your throat.

It’s not enough. You ache for him. His thick cock fills you and bruises the back of your throat, but it’s not what you need. It’s not what he’s ordered you to do, and you aren’t used to not being able to obey.

He sees the tears before they fall and brushes them away. “I know, cyare, I’m being very cruel to you. But I have no choice. You were being so greedy.”

Your eyes roll back into your head, and, even though you know it’s convoluted, it makes you feel better. You’re not disobeying; you’re suffering for him.

Your chest hurts. The ache spreads through your arms and brings more tears to your eyes. You need him. You need this.

His thrusts are getting rougher, and you’re having a hard time thinking at all.

“You’re taking it so good for me, sweetheart. You want my cum?”

You whine desperately around him.

Mando thinks about teasing you. But he can’t, not when he can see the adoration and devotion in your eyes. He relaxes his grip on your hair, sliding his hand to gently cup your chin, and pushes deep into your throat to cum.

You moan, drinking him down.

When he pulls out, you lower yourself to rest on your legs. He punches in the code and helps you out before sitting on the floor right there in the chamber and pulling you into his lap.

He unhooks the gag and eases it out of your mouth, rubbing gentle circles on the hinges of your jaw. You’re looking at him with a trembling lip and something on the edge of desperation. He removes his gloves and tosses them to the side, running one bare hand up and down your arm and sliding the other between your legs.

“Oh, cyare, you’re soaked. Let me help you.”

You’re hoping for something rough to shake away the rawness; he knows that. But it’s not what you need, so he rubs soft circles around your clit. You shudder and jerk, but he holds you tight with his other arm.

“Shh, just let me take care of you. Let me make you feel good.”

You dig your fingers into his tunic and tuck your face against him as you try to ride out the sensations. It’s so intense, and he’s barely touching you.

He knows you’re close, but he doesn’t change a thing. You’re going to break anyway.

It’s agony. Exquisite, terrible pleasure. Your abdomen feels tight, stretched like a slingshot, and you’re not sure if he’s going to let go before you snap. But you trust that either way, he’ll put you back together.

You bite down on his arm when he tells you to cum. You don’t mean to, but the scream that wrenches out of you is too much to bear, and your body can’t help but follow its instincts for self-preservation.

Luckily, unlike in a fight, you don’t tear his flesh or his shirt. He groans, deep and long, holding you against him even as your body rides through the aftershocks.

“Fuck, that was beautiful,” he says after you’ve released him.

“M’sorry,” you mumble.

“No, don’t apologize. You okay?”

You nod, but he knows you.

He knows you in his heart, and he picks you up and sets you in the bunk just as you start to sob. He climbs in and holds you to his chest until you calm down.

“Ner kar’ta,” he murmurs, pressing his helmet to your forehead. “Thank you. You’re so good to me.”

You don’t have the energy to talk, so you press kisses against his chest and snuggle in. You were drifting off when he nudged you.

“Cyar’ika, you’re shaking. That was pretty intense, and I’d like to get some food in you.”

You whimper and bury your face in his shirt.

“You wanna stay down here, read in the bunk?” he offers. “I can leave the door open if you need.”

“Okay.”

He tucks you in. “I’ll be right back.” He ducks upstairs for just a moment and returns with the datapad, setting it on your lap and handing you a full canteen and a few of your favorite amethyst sweetbreads.

“You can shut the door,” you say softly.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I know you’re right there. But I…I dunno.”

“You liked being locked in, huh? Makes you feel safe?”

You nod, relieved that he understands what you couldn’t find the words to explain. Plus, you want him to be able to eat. You dutifully take a drink and eat a cookie so he can stop hovering.

When he closes the door and goes to make dinner, you turn on the datapad to read, but can’t fight the curiosity and flick through to figure out what he was doing while you had a mouthful of cock.

Your mouth drops open. That evil nerfherder. “You finished my kriffing crossword?”

His unmodulated laughter echoes through the hull.

#din djarin x reader #mando x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x f!reader #dom din djarin #kinktober 2023 #make it hurt verse #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian smut

[deadbydangit]

Going to an amusement park with them.

Mastermind, Hillbilly, Ghostface

Mastermind

No.

He will not go.

Wesker has far too much work to do.

Besides, isn't that rather childish?

Pick an adult activity, like a museum.

"I don't have time for your childish nonsense. I have work to do. Go by yourself."

His words are pretty harsh.

And if you do start crying, he'll feel really bad.

"I-I'm sorry dear. Let's go. We can go there if you'd like."

He won't even wait for an answer.

He's just going to take you.

Please don't be upset with him. Please don't cry more.

He didn't mean it.

Wesker isn't a fan of any of this, and it's obvious, and he's really trying to hide it.

Rides, unhealthy foods, crowds.

He's doing this for you.

But he wants you to have fun.

And he won't let you not do something you want to if he doesn't want to do it.

He'll even go on some rides with you.

Just nothing that spins too fast.

His Uroburos don't seem to like that.

And, he won't say it, but watching you eat cotton candy was really cute.

It was even cuter when you tried to feed him a piece.

He actually doesn't mind rides with a view.

He really likes the Ferris wheel since you can see so much from up top.

He bribed the ride operator to keep you at the very top longer.

Just so you two could see the fireworks.

"Not a bad view if I do say so myself."

But he's actually looking at you.

He'll do whatever it takes to see you smile.

Hillbilly

An amusement park?

What's that?

Oh, he's seen those on TV!

Max had been locked in a room for most of his life with nothing but the TV.

Therefore, most of what he knows about the outside world is from what he's watched.

But actually going to an amusement park?

Absolutely!

Start with some of the calmer rides.

Something that may seem childish to some.

People might give you two weird looks as you get on the ride, but you could care less.

Rides with bright pretty colors and music are his favorites.

It gives him a sense of childhood wonder that he never got to experience.

He's literally living out a childhood dream.

He's just so happy.

Next, try a ride that's a little faster.

A spinning ride, maybe a small roller coaster.

He might be shaken up at first, but he quickly adjusts.

If you ask him what snack he wants to eat, he'll look at the menu so confused.

What's cotton candy? What's a churro?

Get him one of each.

He'll practically shovel everything down.

You might have to get him something else before you two leave.

He doesn't like the fireworks.

If they were quiet, he would because he likes the colors.

But the loud booming is frightening.

Watch them from inside a store or something like that.

When the day is over and it's time to go home, he'll envelop you in a hug.

"Can we come again tomorrow?"

You'll have to explain to him that it isn't something you do everyday.

He'll understand, but he can't wait to go with you next time.

Ghostface

Huh? An amusement park?

Danny hadn't been to one in forever.

Sure! Why the Hell not?

Once you get there you can see him freeze up.

Memories of his childhood are flooding back to him.

He'll suddenly grab your hand.

"We're doing everything."

Before he runs you into the park.

Children's rides, roller coasters, arcade games, spinning rides.

You're doing it all.

And uh, he knows this is awkward, but he wants to feed you ice cream.

He's seen other couples do it and he kind of wants to try it.

That, and he wants to push ice cream on your nose.

On purpose but say it was an accident.

"Sorry babe, you're so cute I got distracted."

Just let him have it and clean your face.

And he absolutely wants to go on the haunted house ride.

He'll do the thing where is places his arm around you and holds you close.

"I won't let the monsters get you. The only monster you have to worry about, is me."

Wink.

So cheesy.

He wants to see the fire works too.

He'll purposely get behind taller people so he has to lift you onto his shoulders to see.

He knows what he's doing.

Before you leave, he won you a stuffed animal and hid it until now.

"It's a cute little teddy bear. Reminds me of you."

#dbd imagines #dbd ask blog #dbd x reader #dbd killer #dbd ghostface #dbd mastermind #dbd hillbilly