#if you finished this fic then rOUND OF APPLAUSE

[cillianhead]

Hello dear!!! I hope you're having a wonderful day!

Could you please write a piece about Cillian falling for a (younger!) poet? He starts frequenting her reading sessions and that's how they meet. The rest is up to you!

Thank you 🩵

Yes!! Love this, thank you <3

Enjoy my sweet nonny!

This is heavily inspired by the song All Too Well (10-minute version) (Taylor's Version) by Taylor Swift!!

Wind In My Hair, I Was There || Cillian Murphy x Reader

warnings: Smut, angst, age gap (reader is in her mid to late twenties, Cillian is in his forties.), swearing, Cillian is sort of an asshole in this in some parts, so that is a warning, infidelity (Cillian is married), general adult content ahead!!

Minors DNI! 18+

I'd also like to clarify this isn't really based on the real Cillian!! I know he's married and very happy, this is just fiction and fantasy!! Not meant to portray Cillian as a bad person!! I'd also like to clarify that the ready doesn't really know who Cillian is... or maybe like Cillian isn't that famous in this fic universe or something because there are a few plot points that may seem questionable... that's all. Anyway... enjoy!!

The autumn you spent with Cillian Murphy would be one you would always remember, not that you really had a choice in whether or not you could forget him.

Your apartment was small and cozy at the time, with a perfect view of the falling leaves outside. It was sitting across from a small park in New York City; the trees were red and orange, and it felt like the fall was putting on a show just for you. You felt fortunate and privileged to live in such a place.

You lived right up the road from a small cafe with a library. Every Thursday, you meet with like-minded writers and read your work aloud. It helped bring you out of your shell; you felt a sense of pride when you read your poetry out loud and had people praise you for being so brave and how well you wrote. Despite the fact you have been attending these little group meetings for almost two years now and you felt pretty comfortable amongst the people who were there, you felt like you could vomit your pounding heart right up every time you stood at that podium in front of the dozen or so people that attended. But even with the lump in your throat, you'd read with a shaky voice and tears ready to spill, you would receive the same round of applause every time and a pat on the back from some of the attendees you were closer with.

It was September 14th when you first saw him, but it wasn't the first time he had seen you, summer still lingering in the air but barely grasping on as Autumn began to take the reigns. You were standing at that cedar-wood podium, reading aloud as nervously as you always did. You had yet to notice him quietly slip in; you were too busy ensuring you were on the right line.

"-And something beautiful sprouted, something that I am not... something that I never will be." You looked up after reading the last line, biting your lip nervously and stepping back from the speaking podium. There he sat, in a sweater and the most hypnotizing eyes you had ever seen. Maybe love at first sight was real, you thought briefly. People clapped, but the room remained silent and still for you as you two made eye contact; he didn't clap; he just stared at you with a look that told you he was just as taken aback by you as you were by him.

He kept attending the sessions, but he never got up and read anything and never really interacted with anyone else; in fact, you'd see him get up and leave once you had finished reading your poetry. You wondered if anyone else noticed him the way you did, or maybe he was a figment of your imagination... a ghost.

It was October 19th when you first spoke with him. You dreamt about him day and night, and you two had never even spoken before every session; you'd wonder if he'd be there, and he always was. Sitting in the same seat, at the very back, going ultimately unnoticed by almost everyone but you.

"Excuse me, sir!" You yelled out, rushing to follow the man in the plaid shirt and beanie. "You dropped this!" It was a pair of keys you had clutched in your hand, the crisp autumn air meeting the apples of your cheeks.

He turned around, only a foot or two away from you, as he looked at you up and down, taking notice of his keys in your hand. "Oh gosh, thank you, love," He took the keys gently out of your hand, his fingers lingering on yours a little too long for a stranger, fingertips brushing together. "I swear I'd lose my head if it weren't screwed on." You took notice of his Irish accent. It made you even more curious to know him better. "Erm... thank you so much."

"It's no problem..." You trailed off. You're not sure what to say now. He gave you a stiff nod and started to turn around and keep walking, but you just couldn't let him leave. "Wait!" What do you say now?

"Yeah?" He turned around, tilting his head at you, blue eyes staring at you, waiting.

"I... I'm Y/N... by the way... I always see you here... but I never see you read anything..."

"Cillian," He chuckled. "Not interested in reading anything I've written, only here to listen." Cillian's response was short but straight to the point.

"You don't stick around for very long... you always leave after... I've finished reading my writing..."

"Well... your work is the only one I come to listen to. The rest of the lots' poems just go in one ear and out the other," He said honestly. "You've got a charm about you; I've never heard anything like what you write. It's unique and intelligent, cleverly crafted written pieces... It captures my attention, unlike the rest, which all seem like people trying to mimic someone else... you write from your heart... or your head... I can't decide which, really." He notices your silence, Cillian steps a bit closer to you. "Perhaps I've said too much." He mumbles. The proximity of where he stands is close enough that you can feel his warmth, a stark contrast to how cold it was outside. "You've surely captivated me, Y/N." He said your name like it was a sacred prayer.

You felt like your heart was in your throat, looking at him dumbfounded and unsure what to say. "That's... very flattering, I don't know what to say... thank you, Cillian..." You scratch behind your ear, swaying nervously on your feet. Cars honked, and people passed by as you two stood outside the little cafe, which was now closed since the reading sessions had ended. Cillian looked around awkwardly before sucking in a deep breath and exhaling, his breath visible out in the open air due to how cold it was.

"Would you like to go out for dinner with me?" Cillian looked at you, eyes reflecting the city lights. The moment felt like something from a movie or something you'd write a poem about. It felt like something that wasn't quite possible within these depths of reality. "I understand... if not... you're a young beautiful woman... probably got someone waitin' at home for y-" "N-No, I'd love to!" You interrupted him, with your heart racing. "I'd love to go to dinner with you... I don't have anyone at home... waiting for me..."

"Well, aren't I lucky... when are you free?" He gave you a smile, the first you'd ever seen from him. It made his usually sombre face light up; he grinned, making you feel all giddy.

"I'm free any time on the weekends... and on Tuesdays, I have work off, so... I would love to... see you this weekend, maybe?"

"Wonderful, Saturday evening, you and me?"

You nodded. You exchanged numbers and went on your merry way, walking down the streets of New York City with a smile on your face that was purely gleeful. People would give you looks, but you didn't care. You were excited about something for once. You obsessed over it for the next day and a half.

October 21st marked your very first date with Cillian Murphy. At six, you waited patiently outside your apartment building in the cold air. With a red scarf wrapped around your neck your nose runny from the autumnal weather, you looked around like a lost puppy.

"Y/N," Cillian's warm voice startled you from behind you. You jumped but swiftly turned around to look at him, a bashful smile on both of your faces. "You look lovely." You felt your heart pound at the sight of him.

"Thank you. You also look lovely yourself." You replied. He leaned in and kissed your cheek before taking your hand in his and guiding you down the street. The feeling of his hand in yours made the cold weather seem like summer. Your body lit in flames at the idea he wanted you close to him. And the feeling of his lips on your cheek remained there the whole evening, burning its mark into your skin.

The night went on, and you found yourself in a charming Italian restaurant. It was nothing too fancy, but it was nice and romantic for a first date, definitely nicer than any other places other guys have taken you. It was just the two of you sitting towards the back, in a small booth, eating your plates of pasta. You talked, and you talked, and you talked. He spoke about how he was an actor; you could see his eyes light up at his passion for his work. He told you he was in New York for work and was filming a movie for something he couldn't legally disclose yet. Your chemistry was magnetic, and the conversation would weave in and out of different subjects. You talked about anything and everything, things like masculinity, The Beatles, the incident that happened on your 21st Birthday, batman, and everything else there was to discuss. You felt like you had known him forever. He said the same thing and referred to you two as twin flames. When you were about to leave, his phone began to ring.

"Fuckin' hell, what is it now?" He groaned. "Probably just a wrong number... or somethin'... hold on, love." He stepped outside, and you watched him on the phone. Cillian looked angry and frustrated, like he was arguing over the phone with someone. Your heart, which once rode the waves of love and joy, now sank beneath them into the deep dark depths of navy blue and dismay, watching him grow angrier and angrier and yell over the phone. He was seeing red.

When he waved for you to come out, you approached him cautiously. He huffed, puffed, and fidgeted his hands in his pockets, clearly restless. "Who was that? Are you okay?" "It was no one," He replied shortly and coldly. "I'm fine, let's go." You didn't say a word after that. The tension was thicker than the cold. You were afraid of saying anything to further upset him. So silence was the answer as he walked you home. You felt disappointed that this was how the night was ending. You wondered who it was and what they had said that had upset him so badly. The familiar apartment building you called home came closer and closer within sight, the disappointment weighing you down like water in your shoes. The disappointment tracing every inch of your freezing skin.

You stood in your elevator with him. He promised to walk you back to your unit at least, and he kept that promise. "Would you like to come in... Cillian?" You asked. You pulled out your house key and unlocked the door, looking at him hopefully.

"No, I'd better not." He remained cold and rigid with you. He couldn't even bring himself to give you a smile. You felt you'd never see him again; maybe he didn't like you the way you thought he did. Maybe he found you obnoxious and dumb. Perhaps the phone call was from another woman he realized was better than you. Maybe you simply needed to be better for him. "Goodnight, Y/N." He turned and walked away; you couldn't speak as tears welled in your eyes. Sorrow built up within you like some sort of horrible game of Jenga; one wrong move and you'd come crashing down and falling apart all over the place.

"Goodnight..." You whispered, but by then, he'd already stepped into the elevator, and the doors shut, taking him away from you. You cried yourself to sleep that night, both out of self-pity and disappointment.

When you awoke, it was to the sounds of soft raps on your front door. It was eight in the morning. Padding gently down the hallway, floorboards creaking, sleep still in your eyes, and your face puffy from the tears that leaked from your tear ducts the previous night, you opened the door, expecting it to be a neighbor asking you if they could borrow some sugar or something along those lines.

"Good morning," Cillian stood at your door, this time with a big apologetic smile, a complete change from last night's cold demeanour. He held a pink, yellow, and white bouquet and a small paper bag in his other hand. "I came here to apologize... for how I treated you last night." "Come in." You ushered him in.

He noted your knick-knacks, the photos on your walls, and your old, worn-out furniture. The way you decorated the place stood out to him, but the look on your face stood out to him the most. Sad, tired eyes, puffy and glazed over, you looked at him expectantly. "I'm so sorry." He whispered to you.

"What for?" You asked as you sat in your favorite olive green armchair. It was velvet and soft, and you'd spend most of your time writing, reading, or drinking your morning cup of coffee.

"For treating you like I didn't care," He sighed. He sat on the leather sofa beside you, gently placing the flowers on your glass coffee table and the paper bag smelling of freshly baked goods. "I don't want to discuss exactly who it was or what happened on that phone call... but I... I shouldn't have shut you out just because I was upset... that was... wrong of me, and I'm sorry." Your anger and sadness dissipated the way a fire dissipates when it's being smothered: immediately. His big blue eyes were the blanket that hushed that flame out, striking him as immediately forgiven.

"I understand, Cillian..." You mumbled, pulling your knees up to your chest. "Things happen... it's alright... I...." You wanted to confront him and tell him how insignificant and stupid he made you feel, but you swallowed it back and gave him a small smile. You remained the people pleaser you always have been. You spared his feelings over your own. "I understand." You repeated.

"I thought... I would make it up to you," He pushed the small paper bag over to you. "We could spend the day together... if you don't already have plans."

The paper bag contained a chocolate eclair. You had written a poem that mentioned eating a chocolate eclair while in a made-up love affair. The rhyming was cheesy, but it was one of Cillian's favorite poems of yours. It was the first one he had heard from you. Of course, you didn't realize the irony of it at the time. You just grinned and accepted it happily. You didn't know that you were engaging in a relationship with a man who was already married. So you took a bite of the eclair, letting him into your fragile heart, and entered this sad and tragic love affair.

So you spent the whole day together. You walked around New York City, holding hands and laughing your heads off. It felt romantic and intimate, and you got to know each other even deeper than you did before. You kissed under a stop sign and shared sweet nothings. The clouds rolled over, and the sky opened up. The rain watered you down like a pair of leaves in a pot plant, and you both ran through Central Park, trying to find the nearest shelter until you came across a large oak tree. It was something out of a movie, sitting together, soaking wet, staring at each other as lightning strikes in the distance. The wind was in your hair, and his lips were on yours.

You spent pretty much every day together after that. You made love in every room of your apartment, cherishing each other's bodies. Cillian would sit in that cafe, and he would clap after your readings and then reward you with a kiss when you got back down to him. You wrote poetry about him, and he would write some for you. It was a beautiful, quiet, little harmonious relationship you had going on. You found yourself falling in love. You thought he was, too, though you never said it out loud.

He even met your dad. They got along quite well. Your dad didn't seem to mind that Cillian was only a few years younger than him (and much older than you). Your dad just wanted to see you happy and safe. In fact, your dad told you he had never seen you more content. Cillian made your dad laugh, they got along like old friends. Seeing them bonding and getting along made you incredibly happy and excited.

On November 16th, at noon, you got ready to go to where he was staying, wrapping that red scarf around your neck again and stepping out into the living room where Cillian waited for you with eyes full of affection. You had packed a small bag since Cillian told you he was staying at his sister's house in upstate New York. She was away at the moment. "Most beautiful girl I've ever seen." He hummed jollily. You wrapped your arm through his and went down to the lobby.

His car had that new car smell, clearly a rental. "No matter how often I've stayed in America, I never get used to driving on the wrong side of the road." Cillian chuckled, exiting his parking spot and beginning the long drive to his sister's house.

The drive was beautiful. Driving through the city and slowly entering into suburban areas, red and brown trees lining the streets, Halloween decorations on display, and music playing through the radio, you both sang along to the words happily. The drive was surreal and peaceful. You drove down a long country road, and the tall trees created a tunnel above you. Only small slits of the grey sky could be seen through the scarlet leaves.

"We're here, Y/N," Cillian smiled at you, stepping out of the car and walking off without you. You hurriedly got out of the car with your things. "Oh, lock the car for me, the button doesn't work... please, love." He tossed you the car keys, not looking where he was throwing them, and they landed in the dirt before you. You ignored how it made you feel (stupid, insignificant, small), picking up the dirty keys and locking the car manually before rushing over to where he was unlocking the door.

The house was nice and quiet and far from the rest of civilization. It felt like home somehow. It is decorated nicely with photos of his sister and her husband, even some with Cillian when he was younger. It was getting dark by now, and you set your belongings down in the guest bedroom where Cillian was staying. You never asked when he was going back to Ireland. You didn't wanna know. You wanted to appreciate your time together instead of counting down the days.

Cillian cooked you dinner and shared a long, loving kiss to say thanks. You sat cuddled up on the couch together afterwards, your crimson scarf hanging over the stair railing as you rested your head lovingly on his shoulder. An old Western movie played in the background, but you were too busy holding each other and whispering sweet things.

"Cillian..." You whispered, pressing soft kisses along his stubbly jaw. "I'm so happy you brought me here... this feels so special." "I'm so happy to have you here, Y/N." He whispered back. Cillian pulled you into his lap. "This is special, just you and me... here... I'm going to make you my own." You wanted to tell him, 'I'm already yours, Cillian; my heart and soul are yours', but you remained silent, smiling dopily at him.

And with those charming words, you kissed him. Flashes of red played through your mind, fireworks sounding off in your head as your lips danced together. His hands cradled your head as you made out nice and slow. Both in your pyjamas now, warming each other up, hands running up and down his back. Cillian's hands wandered down your back until they rested on the tops of your hips, his thumb fiddling with the waistband of your sweatpants.

"Take them off." You hummed, raising your hips slightly off of his, and he obeyed, sliding your pants off until you were only in your panties. Cillian observed how you sat back down on his lap, the lace scrunched up, showing off the curve of your ass.

"I'm going to ravish you." He growled, eyeing you up and down. The timbre of his voice caused your thighs to tightly squeeze together. He pressed you down onto the couch, slipping his pants down until he was just in his briefs. He slipped your shirt over your tits, breasts bouncing out of their containment and straight into his mouth. He sucked happily on your nipples until you were a panting mess, begging for more. "Let me feel you, sweetheart."

"Please..." You exasperated. "Please... Cillian."

Two nimble fingers slipped under your lace underwear, straight down to where your arousal pooled. "So wet f'me, always so wet, aren't you, baby?" He groaned, fingers teasing your slit before sliding back up to rub circles on your clit.

"You know what you do to me..." You breathed out, biting your cherry red lips and closing your eyes, embracing the pleasure. "Always so wet for you, Cillian..."

The way Cillian cradled you in his strong arms as his fingers caressed you to your peak was the most intimate thing you had ever experienced. His eyes watched your face contort with pleasure, mouth open and spilling sounds of satisfaction as you came on his fingers.

"That's it, baby... doing so good," He whispered, kissing your cheek. "So beautiful."

You lolled your head to the side, panting and looking at him with a dazed grin. "Please fuck me."

Cillian laughed at your words. "Such a dirty mouth!" He teased as he tugged down his pants. "Gonna fuck you nice and slow, gonna show you how much you mean to me, love."

Then, in the dim light of the TV and the moon shining through the window, you made love like it was your last night on Earth. Hands ran up and down each other's bodies, trying to savor every final touch. Lips captured together, your bodies working as one, the love was there, glimmering in the light. No words could explain how you felt then; nothing else existed to you, just him and his hands all over your body. You and him for the rest of eternity, at least; that's how it felt in your heart.

You held each other tight in bed, clinging on for dear life. You listened to his heart slow as he slept and the way he breathed. You wondered if he dreamt about you the way you dreamt of him. Eventually, you fell asleep at midnight after watching his pretty face sleeping.

At three in the morning, you wake to an empty bed. Sitting up with a sweat, where did Cillian go? You slip out from under the covers, wincing at the room's cold air that meets your bare legs. You wore one of Cillian's button-ups, only the middle button holding it together as you slowly creep out of the room, listening to the sound of quiet music from the kitchen.

"Cillian?" You called out, cautious and slightly afraid at how dark the house is. It was a lot quieter than you were used to. You were a city girl, unfamiliar with the countryside silence.

"Y/N?" You heard, which relieved your paranoid mind.

Down the stairs, Cillian stood in the fridge's light, soft music playing through a small radio on the kitchen counter. "What're you doing up, Cillian?" You worriedly walked over to him, arms reached out as he turned to look at you, only in his sleep shorts.

"Just needed a midnight snack. I'm alright, my love," He smiled sleepily, with a sheepish look since he wasn't fully awake yet. "C'mere... dance with me."

"Oh... Cillian..." You giggled, walking over to him, letting him wrap you up in his strong arms and sway you gently. "This is nice."

"Mmmm..." Cillian hummed into the soft skin of your neck.

The refrigerator remained open, the cool-tinted light painting you both as you swayed side to side. You were half asleep, and the rocking motion didn't help your drowsiness. You felt as though this was some strange dream.

"Are you real?" You whispered.

"What do you mean?" Cillian purred back.

"I just feel like I made you up." You muttered, pulling your head back to look up at him with big, sleepy eyes.

Cillian looked back at you with the same look. Your wide-eyed gaze and his sweet blue eyes looked like something out of a romance film or something you'd see in a painting. The love you shared was unanimous... or at least you thought so. A kiss and then another kiss and then another turned into a sleepy yet heated make-out.

"Gonna take you right here," He grumbled into your mouth. "My midnight snack."

You giggled at his words as he pressed you against the kitchen island countertop. Kissing so hard it felt like your lips could bruise. He ripped off your shirt and pulled it off you like it was nothing. Cillian growled at the sight of you, hands groping at your tits and lips trailing down your neck. You whimpered, letting your head hang back as he ground his stiff cock into your clothed cunt.

"Fuck!" You whined, wrapping your legs around his hips even further. You ignored the feeling of the marble countertop digging into your lower back; the feeling of his cock was too delicious, too distracting, to really let it ruin the mood. "Cillian, please, baby, just put it in me... need you so bad."

He gave you a grunt and slipped off his shorts before pulling your panties to the side. Cillian acted like a feral dog as he pushed his cock into you and began fucking you on his sister's countertops at three in the morning. The act was sinful.

"Oh god! Yes!" You wailed. You could be as loud as you wanted to out here. No one else was around to hear, and you knew how Cillian liked to hear you scream for him. His hips pistoned in and out of you, cock fitting perfectly inside you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head. He had never been so rough with you before, but you were enjoying it.

"Best pussy I've ever had," Cillian groaned, sweat dripping from his forehead. "Fuck... so good... feels so good."

His fingernails dug into your hips, grunting into the dips of your neck and shoulders as he chased his own high. You ran your hands up and down his back, leaving scratch marks across his shoulder blades. The fridge remained open, but right now, you didn't care. All you could think about was how good he was fucking you. Drool spilled down your chin, mind blank, and legs went limp from the euphoria taking over.

"Yeah, is that it?" Cillian muttered, voice gritty and low as his hips sputtered. "You gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna cum on my cock?"

"Yes... oh fuck! Yes!" You moaned. "Gonna cum for you, Cillian..."

"Love the way my name sounds comin' from your mouth," He whispered, letting out a mouth-watering whine straight into your ear. Your pussy clenched around him tighter as Cillian, usually a quiet and stoic man, came undone and let out the most delectable pornographic-sounding moans. "Y'make it sound so dirty..."

"Please cum in me..." You whimpered. "Please... need it so bad."

"Really?" Cillian panted and looked at you incredulously. He had never had the pleasure of getting to cum in you yet. "You sure?"

"Yes!" You threw your head back, panting like a dog. "Please, Cillian! Please... give it to me." "Fuck... alright... gonna fill you up, love."

You pressed your face into the curve of his neck, mewling as you came around him and the feeling of his hot cum beginning to spill into you. "I love you." You gasped out, squeezing your eyes shut as you came around him. You meant it; you did love him. You had never loved anyone the way you had loved him. You could see yourself with him for the rest of your life, having his babies, getting married..., and dying together. He just groaned loudly as he came inside you, not saying a word to your confession. Maybe it wasn't the right time, or he would wait until he was done to say something.

"Fuckin' hell..." Cillian whispered as he slipped his softening length out of you and pulled his shorts back up. "Look at that..." He mumbled with amazement, getting down on his knees in front of your quivering and cum-filled pussy.

"Cillian, I-"

"Shhh..." He hushed before pressing a loving nip to your inner thigh, and then he unhinged his jaw and attached his watering mouth to your cunt. You forgot everything you were about to say at the feeling of his tongue licking you up and sucking on your swollen clit. You came again quickly due to how sensitive you were, and Cillian sucked up your gushing juices and his cum that still dripped out of you. Standing up, he grabbed you by the chin and kissed you, spitting the mixture into your mouth, tongues swirling together. You moaned at the salty taste and the dirty act. "Such a good girl..." Cillian hummed. "Swallow it, baby. Show me how good you can be for me."

He watched you gulp it down before leaning in and rewarding you with a wet and messy kiss, teeth grabbing your bottom lip before pulling away. "Cillian..." You whispered, out of breath and incredibly flustered. "That... was so good... I love-" "Let's go to sleep," He interrupted abruptly, crouching and picking up your discarded clothing. "It's real late, sweetheart."

"Oh..." You mumbled, heart breaking a little. "Okay... let's go then." You didn't get a peep of sleep that night. While Cillian snored beside you, one heavy arm draped across you and his hot breath fanning the back of your neck, you stared at the ticking clock with tears slipping down your face. Why didn't he say it back? Why didn't he at least say something? You knew he heard you. The dread built up within you that night, and daylight didn't seem to get any closer.

At 7:47 AM, you were pulled out of a state between consciousness and sleep by Cillian's phone ringing. "Fuck..." Cillian said groggily, reaching over with a heavy hand to pick up his phone. "Who is it?" You moaned out of dissatisfaction from being pulled out of your slumber.

"It's my sister..." He groaned before answering the call. "Hello?.... Yeah, it's alright... no, I don't have anything on today... you're comin' home today?... I thought you'd be home Monday..." You sat up at this, heart racing. Were you going to have to meet his sister today? You were nervous but also excited. Cillian looked over at you with a horrified look in his eye. "Yeah... alright... see you then... bye."

"...Is everything okay?" You asked cautiously.

"Yeah, I guess we're not sleepin' in..." He grunted as he got up and walked towards the en suite. "Gather yer' things, we're going back to the city." "What? Why?"

"I just don't want my sister to know I had a girl over." That was the last thing he said before shutting the bathroom door, clearly in a bad mood. Your heart sank at his words as if it wasn't already hurting. So you got up, fighting back the tears and gathered your things, shoving them back into your bag as you let out a choked sob.

Half an hour passed, Cillian was still in the shower, and you sat at the bottom of the stairs, feeling sorry for yourself. Your bag sat beside you, and the floorboards creaking behind you caught your attention. You turned and looked up at Cillian, dressed in a lovely blue turtle neck, dress pants, and a grim look on his face.

Begrudgingly, you followed him outside and into the car, then began the drive back in silence.

"You wanna grab some lunch wit' me today?" Cillian asked after about twenty minutes of silence.

"No." You said dryly.

"What? You got plans or somethin'?" Cillian asked with a chuckle. The question felt condescending and rude.

"Because what you said to me earlier really fucking hurt me." You hissed, turning to look at Cillian to see him already looking at you.

"What the fuck are you on about?" He barked back, putting his eyes back on the road and giving you that dry, condescending laugh again.

"You said you didn't want your sister to know about me.... that you didn't want your sister to know about you having a girl over."

"Yeah, and?" Cillian quipped, clearly flustered.

"Is that all I am to you?" You whimpered, trying to keep your composure, trying to seem strong. "Just a girl?" "'Course not, Y/N." He said in a hushed tone.

"Then what the fuck are we?" You raised your voice, a tear slipping down your cheek. "Why can't your sister know about me? About us?"

"B-Because..." He faltered before falling completely silent.

"Why, Cillian?" You cried. "You've met my friends... you've even met my father... for fuck's sake... why can't... why can't I meet your sister and her husband?"

He kept his silence. You could see the tears in his eyes that refused to spill. Those tears were just as stubborn as he was.

"Answer me!" You screamed, tears pouring down your exasperated face. "Say something!"

"Because I'm married!" He screeched back.

That shut you up. You leaned back and just stared at your feet. You felt like you had been winded, like all the air in the car had been sucked out, and you were choking on carbon monoxide. He was married. You sobbed as the shock set in, and Cillian pulled the car over to the side of the road, unbuckling his seatbelt. You fell into a state of despair; your chest felt incredibly heavy, and your brain played a loop of hopeless thoughts.

"Y/N," Cillian said firmly, reaching out and placing a soft hand on your shoulder, which you quickly smacked away. "Y/N... look at me..."

You looked over at him, and you could see him wince at the look on your face. He'd never seen you in so much pain. Never had he seen you look at him so coldly. "What?" You spat. "What is it, Cillian?"

"I... I'm sorry."

"Fuck you," You cried harder, covering your face with your hands and leaning on the dashboard. You cried so hard it felt like you could vomit. You felt like the salty tears were slowly dissolving you away. "Fuck you!" You sobbed.

"Y/N... I am sorry."

"If you were sorry..." You hiccuped, looking back at him with red eyes and tears endlessly slipping down your flustered face. "You never would have... you never would have done this to me... you never would have gotten involved with me!"

Cillian sighed and shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I... I stumbled into that cafe one night, and I saw you and... I heard the way you spoke... and the words you said... and I couldn't believe you were real... and things haven't been amazing in my marriage lately... and I haven't seen my wife in months..." He was rationalizing with you... with the infidelity. "I... I've never met anyone like you."

"You lied to me."

"How was I supposed to tell you I was married, Y/N?" Cillian snapped at you, looking at you with fangs barred. "What was I supposed to say to you?"

"You didn't have to say anything," You sobbed. "You shouldn't have invited me to dinner... you shouldn't have even... you shouldn't have ever shown up to those reading sessions... you just shouldn't have gotten involved with me in the first place!"

"My wife doesn't have to know."

"That... doesn't make it any better," You bawled. "You have a woman... back in Ireland fucking waiting for you, and I'm here... thinking I'm falling in love with you while you fuck me over!"

"I'm sorry..." He whispered, defeated. "I'm so sorry."

Silence.

"Do you feel anything for me?" "Of course, I feel something for you, Y/N... you're-"

"Do you love me?" You corrected. "Could you say you truly and honestly love me?" "I..." He looked away at that. You scoffed and shook your head, wiping tears off your face. "I don't... I don't know... I just..." "What the fuck was going to happen between us?" You cried. "How was this going to end? This was always going to end tragically... wasn't it? Wasn't it, Cillian?"

"I didn't... I never thought about how I was going to end things... I go back home in December... filming ends in two weeks... I was going to spend the last few weeks with you..." You scoffed again loudly. "Aww... how sweet! Spend your last few days with your mistress, who's twenty years younger than you... and then fuck off back to Ireland and go be with your loving wife and your... oh god... you have kids, don't you?" "Yes... I..." "Fuck!" You screamed. It wasn't like you to be so angry. You weren't usually this loud. But the pain was just too much, and you needed some way to get the pent-up rage within you out. "So this is it... this is going to be the last time I'll ever see you."

"It doesn't have to be that way, love," Cillian whispered, placing a hand on your arm; this time, you let it stay there. The shame of having him touch you made you sob again. "We could... spend this last month together... we could... cherish what we have while we still have it." "What we have is gone," You replied. "It's gone! It's dead! You killed it! You can't even say you love me."

"What good would that do?" He pushed you further over the edge. "I mean... I could lie and say I love you... I could feed into your fantasies that this... this could last... but it's not..."

Those words 'I could lie and say I love you' echoed over and over again in your head.

"I know that!" You yelped.

There was a pause. The silence hanging heavy in the autumn air and your teardrops falling into your lap where your hands lay curled up. Cillian's thumb rubbed circles into your arm, and you only cried harder.

"Maybe... if we had been closer in age... maybe we would have... maybe we would have been fine." Cillian broke the silence with that banger. The words ringing in your ears, you didn't reply. You didn't utter a word. Those words made you want to die. A minute or two went past. You just ignored him, ignored the way his hand lit your skin on fire, and ignored the way his eyes bore holes into the side of your skull. "Y/N?"

"Take me home." You muttered.

"Y/N..." He whispered.

"Take me the fuck home, Cillian."

And so he did. He pulled out of the parking spot, and you spent the next hour in an agonizing silence. At some point, the tears stopped falling, and the stupidity sunk in. You felt stupid and ashamed. You had told everyone about him, how happy you were, how handsome and funny... and how sweet he was. And now you sat in the car of a man you felt like you didn't know.

"We're here, Y/N."

"Goodbye, Cillian."

"Please don't do this." He begged, you looked at him, and he had tears in his eyes. "Please." You sucked in a breath, his eyes pleaded with you, and you wanted to stay so badly... you wanted to give him one last kiss and say, 'I understand,' but you knew you couldn't. You were too heartbroken. It was going to end one way or another... and it might as well end now.

"Goodbye, Cillian." You said once more before stepping out of the car and walking off into your building. Never looking back to see the broken man in the car, crying just as hard as you did, loving you just as hard as you did him.

Three months went by. There wasn't a day where you didn't think of him. Not a day passed when you yearned for his touch and to feel him hold you again. You thought about dancing with him in the refrigerator light. You thought about his hand on your thigh as you drove upstate. The memories all too real and... all too there.

And tonight, as snow fell outside, you stood at that same podium, reading the poem you wrote for him. You could barely utter the words, your heart catching in your throat as you looked around the room and spoke the words written on the page.

"Just between us, I remember it all too well." You finished, and the room clapped, but the applause didn't matter. Your heart still felt just as broken as it did the day you left him.

And as you descended from the podium, people would pat you on the back and murmur praises for how well-written your poem was and how well-spoken you were. But your eyes were focused on the hazy figure outside the cafe, the silhouette all too familiar.

And it was wearing that same red scarf you had left behind.

And you knew it was him, watching you from afar. Loving you from a distance... remembering it the same way as you did...

All too well.

-

hope you enjoyed!! Sorry this was all over the place a bit but I really wanted to write something angsty... anyway... there are lots of little easter eggs and references to the song, did you pick them all up? Okay byeee!

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy fanfic #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders

[wh1msic4alwasab1]

𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬! 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬!....𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬, 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬, 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬...

synopsis: drunk bouncer gallagher starts getting a little too turnt at the club you’re in on penacony….

tags: food play, body shots, alcohol implications and heavy mentions, explicit, vulgar, suggestive, handjob, exhibitionism

wrd cnt: 730+

a/n: (click the title for a song) this song got me through this fic LMAO i hope the vibes matched because that’s what I was going for, but anyways enjoy!!!! ( art from choco_uncle on twt)!

You could feel the music thumbing under your feet, your skins and everyone else’s in the club endourned with various colors and shines of brilliance. A rather tall and muscular man stood at the door, his arms crossed over his chest. You couldn’t help but notice how different he was now that he got some drinks in his system, that hard ass almost didn’t let you and your friends in.

He had already downed a few shots and was feeling the effects, his head was spinning, and his inhibitions were lowered. It seemed like he was just letting anyone in now. But he couldn't help but notice you staring at him across the room, chatting with your friends and glancing toward him every now and then.

Gallagher's eyes followed yours as he walked his way over to the bar, ordering a round of shots for you and your friends.

As you clinked glasses and downed the liquor, you caught Gallagher's eye and gave him a flirty smile. It was all he needed. He quickly made his way over to her, his steps a little unsteady.

“Having a good time, dear?” he asked, leaning down and close to your ear so you could hear him over the loud music.

You nodded, her eyes sparkling. “Definitely. Want to join us for another round?”

He smirked at your invitation, signaling the bartender for another round of shots, on him.

He handed them out to you and your friends, keeping one for himself.

He watched with hungry eyes as you sucked salt off his thumb, took the shot, and then let him squeeze lime into your mouth from above.

“What a good girl” he praised, giving your ass a playful smack and chuckling as the people around you yelled and hyped you up.

His mind couldn't help but wonder how your lip would look around something else of his.

Taking a gulp of his own shot, Gallagher slammed the empty glass on the table and grabbed your hand, pulling you towards him. “Up for some fun?”

The partygoers around you cheered and whistled, knowing exactly what was about to happen.

You’re not one to fall for peer pressure, but you definitely didn’t want to stop now.

Your eyes widened in surprise, but you couldn't resist the temptation of being so close to Gallagher, it felt so excitingly good. You nodded after the support of your friend group pushing you into him as he led you to a nearby couch and laid you down on it. His hands gripping your waist and legs to make you sit down.

Gallagher poured tequila on the little cup of your collarbone, sipping the booze and then licking up the spilled drops, finishing it with a wet kiss to your neck; causing shivers to run down your spine. He took the lime and placed it between your lips before taking it in his own mouth and sucking on it sensually, eyes locked into yours.

Everyone screamed around you, watching the both of you create enough tension for everyone to feel.

Next, he grabbed a shot glass filled with more liquid courage, and pushed you back down on the couch before placed the small glass between your breast in the deep v cut dress you wore, and leaned down to take the shot with his mouth, his tongue gliding all the way up from your sternum, to inbetween your breasts to pick up the salt, and up to your chin, making you throw your head back into the cushion with his hand holding a fistful of your hair, the other under you’re arching waist.

The sensation sent a jolt of desire through you, and you couldn't help but let out a playful moan. “You’re so tasty”, you hear against your ear. 

The crowd around you two erupted in applause as Gallagher continued the body shots, trailing his mouth down your body, stopping at various erogenous zones along the way. What really sent you over was when he finished, pulling you into his lap and whispering, “You enjoy that?”, he asked with a smirk.

“Mmhm” You respond, grabbing a bottle of baileys and pouring it into his mouth. You could feel his hard cock under your ass, and he could definitely feel you grinding on it, hoping no one notices. But no one was really paying attention, it was barely noticeable, right? No one could see you making out with the bouncer and fisting his cock, right?

As the shots and alcohol flowed, your inhibitions disappeared, and your passion ignited. 

With the loud music and the party atmosphere, it was easy for Gallagher and you to get lost in the moment. As the night went on, you continued to indulge in each other, your bodies moving in perfect sync on the dance floor, bumping against each other through the beat; feeling his now even harder brick against you as you grinded back into him, his arm snaked around your waist from behind.

It would definitely be much easier to get into the club now…

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

#jo’s posts #hsr gallagher #gallagher smut #gallagher #gallagher hsr #hsr smut #hsr #honkai star rail smut #honkai #honkai star rail #honkai sr

[yoongsisbae]

King of Corruption | MYG

Sequel to Christmas Mass. Yoongi x reader Demon AU. Dark smut.

The organ player takes his time with you, holding you and caressing your body while you sleep, until you can’t discern your dreams from your reality. A king and a sleeping beauty, his name leaves your lips like a prayer, prostated at his feet in blind reverence…the perfect position for him to corrupt and defile you. 

I promised readers a Yoongi version if Christmas Mass hit 1,000 notes, and you did it! Round of applause for you! This story is all your fault :D. Please please please heed the warnings, this is dreadfully filthy u.u.

Trigger warnings: 18+ dark themes, horror, demons, religion, smut, boss x employee, wanna experience the trauma of having an office job? this fic is for you!, power imbalance, Yoongi is literally the worst boss ever lol, yoongi is unhinged (remember that you wanted this sequel :’)) sloth is one of the hardest sins to really articulate - I wanted it to be a bit more than just sleepy/lazy, sleeping beauty syndrome, rough sex, corruption kink, pain kink, sadism, degradation, name calling, possession, reader manipulation, mental torture/mind break, dubcon, dark ending

Word Count: 8.9k

---

It’s quiet.

Apart from the clicking, dozens of busy hands typing away, needing to meet quarterly deadlines by the end of the month, less than a week away. 

What day is it? Tuesday? Thursday? 

So quiet.

Apart from papers shuffling back and forth and dress shoes thudding on thin office carpet; employees chasing down their supervisors, the gurgling of the water cooler dispensing another cold metallic tasting cup of water.

Click click click.

It’s almost closing time. Yet, you know you’ll be here at least two more hours along with everyone else. Your fingers are cramping, your legs shake up and down as you sit idle. You’re hungry and tired and so sick of these long office hours.

Tap tap tap.

Your office cell buzzes, a message popping up: ‘Come to my office.’

You press your lips together, annoyed.

Tap tap-

Your fingers hover over your keyboard as you finish looking over your current spreadsheet, double checking that the totals match the expense reports on your desk.

Click click click.

Tap tap tap.

Buzz. ‘Now.’ 

You sigh quietly, standing up. 

Walking past rows of cubicles, you trek towards your manager’s private office, knocking softly before entering.

“Sir?”

He calls you closer with a lazy gesture, crossing his arms. He stares at you in silence for far too long, making you fidget uncomfortably on the spot. Lowering your head down you look at the objects on his desk, unable to meet his eyes.

A Newton’s cradle, at a standstill.

An ornate letter opener, shaped like a small needle dagger.

Countless papers, so scattered the desk wood is hardly seen.

“Y/n.”

“Yes, Sir?” You look up obediently.

Yoongi leans back in his office chair, eyes looking through you.

“I need these finished before you leave today.” He gestures down at the stack of reports at the corner of his desk.

Your eyes go wide, there’s at least three more hours of work piled up high. “B-But Sir-”

“Our quarterly deadline is in less than-”

“-a week,” you finish for him, dejected. “These have to be done today?” you ask, “Can’t I, um, come in early in the morning instead-”

Yoongi clears his throat and shakes his head, cracking his pointer finger with his thumb, turning the silver ring around the digit out of habit. “I needed those reports done yesterday.”

“Oh…”

You want to scream.

“...okay.”

“Okay.” He repeats impatiently. “Work on these first, I can’t finish what I have to do until I get those reports back.”

You exhale, reluctantly nodding and reaching for the extra work.

Yoongi slams his pen down, making you jump. “As soon as possible, y/n, okay? Got it?”

You nod quickly, turning on your heel, desperate to hide away from his stern gaze. Yoongi’s presence is intimidating, his curtness makes you feel like a child, dumb and incompetent. ‘Just get it done,’ you think, then you can go home, far away from this hell.

Yoongi watches your retreating figure, sighing, “How tiring…” he mumbles, a sly grin hiding behind his knuckles.

---

Your eyes sting, the blue electronic screen glow under half-dimmed office lights could seem sinister if you weren’t so focused, tiredly saving updated files to the company’s servers. Somehow you are always the last one left at your desk, a “model employee,” by administrative standards of course.

You rub your eyes. Eat, you need to eat, before you pass out.

‘Saving: 78%’ You look around, forgetting there was nobody left around for you to disturb. You look through your purse for some change to buy a snack bar from the company’s vending machine, anything to eat just so you can make it home in one piece.

Under closing lights the bright shine inside the vending machine makes the cheap snacks inside look incredibly appetizing, or perhaps it was because you skipped lunch today...

You rest your head on the glass of the vending machine, watching the agonizingly slow twirl of springs as your snack bar...gets stuck.

No. Not now!

Closing your eyes, you debate on whether to start screaming or crying.

‘Come on!’

Of course only you could be this unlucky. You try to quietly hit your fist on the glass, harder again when nothing moves. 

‘FUCK THIS FUCKING SHIT,’ you think, cursing your life.

You shift your weight between legs, thinking, itching to kick the damn thing. No, you shouldn’t make a scene. Biting your tongue, you lean your body against the side of the vending machine, using your shoulder to nudge the large appliance.

‘FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU-’

Someone clears their throat.

You look up and stare into a pair of intense eyes, dark irises silently judging you.

It’s one of the rare times you’ve seen your boss without his coat jacket on, Yoongi’s unkept appearance surprising you. His tie is pulled down, top two buttons unfastened, the gel in the front strands of his hair has lost its hold, causing his bangs to frame his sharp cheekbones. His cheeks are flushed, a sign he has been doing more than just sitting at his desk all day, it makes you wonder what or who...

Yoongi swipes his credit card and hits the same two numbers you had chosen.

He bends down slowly, pulling two bars from the machine. Your lip trembles as you build up enough courage to speak. ‘That’s my bar.’

Just ask for it.

Just say it.

Say something!

-

“That’s mine,” you summon the courage to speak up.

Yoongi laughs softly. “Yours?” he hums.

He stares at you, and you realize he has no intention of giving you what you want.

You immediately look down out of habit. You would have let it go, scurried away before Yoongi really got annoyed at you, but you only brought enough change for one bar. “Y-Yes.”

“No.”

“It is! I paid for it, it got stuck, the stupid machine-” you trail off, realizing you were speaking your thoughts aloud.

“Nothing here is yours, y/n,” he tuts. His tone catches you off guard, and when you look up his expression is even more surprising. Yoongi is leaning against the machine, smiling at you.

A smile is usually friendly, welcoming.

Not like this.

His crescent eyes don’t twinkle, they gleam with a malice that makes your body stiffen.

He chuckles, staring at your gaping mouth. “This belongs to me. This whole company is mine,” he smiles. “And do you know what else is mine?”

“Huh?” you can only ask dumbly, frozen by his sudden icy demeanor.

You yelp when he grabs the back of your neck so swiftly you trip over yourself trying to pull free.

Yoongi forces you back against the cold vending machine glass.

He whispers his next words so softly in your ear, you wouldn't have believed he was capable of such tenderness in the midst of such aggression. “You belong to me.”

He runs his thumb harshly over your bottom lip smearing your lipstick down your chin, gripping your face in his hands so tightly it stings. You gasp out his name in surprise, jolting when he presses his knee between your legs. “You’re mine,” he whispers.

-

Your boss holds out one of the small snack bars in your direction. “Y/n?”

You shake out of your stupor, looking at Yoongi as he stares back at you blankly. “Y-Yes Sir?” you ask, realizing he was offering you the extra bar.

He stood three paces away from you, not close at all, but your body felt jittery thinking of his skin against yours, how it would feel if he pushed you against the vending machine and had his way with you.

Your thoughts horrify you. It had felt so real, you were still lingering in your own delusions. Your boss...he’s your boss. Why would you think such horrible things about your boss?!

You grab the bar away from him so quickly he stares down at his open palm.

You keep your head bowed, silencing away those horribly intrusive thoughts burning through your body like a forgotten muscle memory. Yoongi steps closer to you, eyes peering down at the bar held tightly to your chest. “I-I-”

“Y/n, go home.”

---

You put on the television.

It only takes a few minutes before your attention is on your phone instead, checking the latest trends. You scroll quickly, unfocused, so you didn’t have to think of the horribly embarrassing moments you had today.

If your thoughts become too loud, like tonight, you drown them out with music, adding another layer of noise inside your quiet home.

This has become routine.

You spend the night scrolling through images of popular celebrities, cute half naked men and women with soft features and sweet smiles so you wouldn’t think about him...

Your boss.

Min Yoongi.

Yoongi’s intimidating appearance, so unlike the warm and friendly celebrities displayed on your screens. Yoongi’s sharp angry eyes, you wonder what makes him happy. Yoongi’s deep drawling voice, that voice, what would it sound like in your ear? Oh, the way Yoongi runs his tongue over his lips when he concentrates...

You own tongue licks across your teeth thinking about it.

Your boss had a notorious reputation, there’s always been office gossip between chatty women who giggle amongst themselves when he walks by. Stories to explain why his assistants never stay for too long, and rumors of a terrible terrible temper. You’ve never seen it for yourself, but god help you, you can’t help but imagine...

Something must be under that listless facade he always exhibits for him to be so successful...

A fierceness...

You shake your head, sighing. Something is wrong with you, you think, ashamed at yourself. Stop y/n. You’re not brave enough to play with fire like that. You’re his subordinate and you’re fairly certain he finds you annoying, like a pest, and you’re definitely certain he is out of your league.

No, Mr. Min seems like the type who doesn’t bother with relationships anyways, the type to scoff at romantic gestures, probably prefers high class escorts and busy women who would leave him alone to his own devices. Your boss is not a nice man.

But there’s just something about him...that hooks you, in the lungs, in the chest, in the pit of your stomach. You’ve been wholly ensnared by him.

You pull your legs up, burying your face in your knees, hiding away. A silly gesture, you were all alone in your home after all.

You turn up the volume on your television and laughter fills your house. Rehearsed, giddy, raucous laughter. A show you’ve probably already watched before. You can barely crack a smile in response.

You eat a cold meal of leftovers, too lazy to cook for yourself, too hungry to even wait the time it takes until it heats up.

You move from the couch to the bed, and fall asleep quickly, exhausted.

---

You gasp for air, waking up.

Where had you been? Were you drowning? You catch your breath. No. Then why are you wet? Is that sweat?

It’s too dark to see. You try to move, but something heavy holds you down.

“What’s going on?” you murmur. 

Something is wrong. Very wrong.

“Go back to sleep,” a deep drawl mumbles.

You know that voice.

Who is it? His name is on the tip of your tongue.

Your limbs feel so heavy, so tired. It can’t be morning yet, it’s too dark for that.

You still have time to sleep more, go back to dreaming, enjoying that pleasant feeling again, so good you can still feel it creeping over your limbs...

...up your body...

...inside you...

It’s a nice feeling, it was a nice dream. It’s where you want to be, where you want to stay. Just until morning, just until you have to go back to reality, back to work, where everything hurts and is exhausting and unpleasant, a deadline on top of a deadline, a bunch of dead ends, finish lines with no rewards.

You rather stay in bed and sleep.

That dream, what was it about? You try to remember, get it back, so you can go back, anywhere but here.

You groan, chest heavy. Just a little bit more time is all you need. Let the sun stay away for a little longer. Let the shadows hide you away. Please.

That dream, you’re almost there, it’s coming back to you like a sweet lovely serenade, sung by lips pressed against your skin.

A rhythm begins inside you that makes your body sink deeper, two fingers pulling out the song inside you, making you ache to hear more.

A deep sigh against your thigh followed by a chuckle makes you whine in tune. You think it almost feels too good to be just in your imagination, right before you fall deeper.

---

“Am I boring you?”

A sharp kick to the back of your chair by your coworker jolts you. “S-Sir? N-No, no– No, Sir.” 

Shit, now everyone in the meeting room has their eyes on you. Your boss continues to chastise you. You shrink inward, gripping the ends of your skirt hard enough to wrinkle. 

Yoongi asks your thoughts on the presentation so far, already knowing you don’t have an answer. You stutter out the notes you’ve written down, riffling through the papers in front of you and he corrects you, flustering you even more.

You mumble out an apology. You hate being the center of attention, you wish to disappear. Taking your pen and piercing it into the soft part of your throat would be less painful than the embarrassment you’re feeling and when you hear giggles on your left part of you contemplates on actually doing it and ending it all!

God, will this reflect poorly on your performance review?!

You try not to shake as you scribble down what he’s saying, ignoring his eyes fixated right on you. ‘Why me?’ you write in the corner of your notebook, holding off tears of frustration.

Why does Mr. Min always seem to be picking on you?

-

“Everyone is dismissed,” Yoongi says after the meeting concludes. He calls out to you before you can leave, asking you to see him in his office.

You wince. Of course, you never get a break from working.

You sit on the couch by his desk, waiting. He’s making you wait on him. When you should be eating lunch with everyone else. You swallow down your growing resentment instead.

It’s bitter.

Your leg shakes in boredom, your foot tapping on Yoongi’s office carpet. Time just ticks on by, slower and slower until you can’t take it.

You feel hungry and annoyed and worst of all, you feel deep restlessness, uneasiness working up your limbs and into the pit of your stomach until you wish to scream, run, anything.

How much can you tolerate before you explode? Act out? That’s what Yoongi seems to want to find out.

Your boss walks in, shutting the door to his office behind him.

Instead of sitting at his desk, he sits next to you on his couch, limbs sprawled out as he rests.

“Why did you need– Was there something you needed to discuss with me, Sir?” you ask, trying not to sound impatient.

“Y/n…” The way he drags out your name, deepening his voice, has you holding your breath, waiting for his next words. He runs his hands through his hair, fixing the strands away from his eyes.

“How long have you worked for me?” Yoongi asks, testing you.

“I…” you pause. How long has it been? It must be years now, right? This is your first job, you can’t remember having any other. “A very long time,” you laugh awkwardly, hoping he doesn’t ask you anymore about it. “Why? Is something wrong?”

Yoongi glances at you, fingers tapping on his knee as he stretches his legs. He adjusts his hips, moving closer towards you. “No, well, I think it’s time for a promotion, don’t you?”

“Oh?” You say, surprised. You would have bet Mr. Min would have fired you before ever promoting you.

“From now on you’ll be working directly under me. This department is growing, and I need an assistance manager. You’re a hard worker, your performance accuracy are always high, and I think you’ll be a perfect fit.”

You stay quiet, only nodding in acknowledgement. The idea of seeing more of him was burdensome. But you can’t help but fixate on his compliments, Yoongi called you ‘perfect.’

“How does that sound?”

“Sounds...great.”

He crosses his arms, “Yeah?”

“Yes...”

He glances in your direction frowning, “Really? Because you look like I just told you someone died-”

“No, sir!” you recoil, “I’m sorry Sir, I’m just surprised! I thought you were mad at me,” you say softly, looking down at your knees pressed tightly together.

He reaches out to you, turning your chin to face him. “Y/n, tell me, do you like your job?”

-

You can’t exactly be honest and tell your boss how much you…

…hate it here.

“Yes, I’m very grateful for the opportunity-”

Yoongi frowns again, his touch becoming rougher. “You can tell me the truth, y/n.”

“Oh...I-l really like my job.”

He laughs.

And then, he grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back over the couch cushion. It’s quick and unexpected and...just like that time before...

What’s going on?!

“Do you?” he asks, a smug smile on his face. “You like your job?” he laughs.

“Y-Yes!” you defend yourself, pulling desperately at his arm. If you told him the truth, he would fire you. Then what would you do? How will you pay your bills? If you fought back against him, who would believe you? This goddamn job was all you had.

“Oh,” He nods back, voice pitched higher and seeming to mock your own voice. “You like this?” he laughs, dragging your body down, hovering over you. 

This is Yoongi? His demeanor shifted so quickly you can barely recognize him as the same man. Your boss was reserved, almost apathetic to things. The man looking down at you seemed unhinged, animated, barely contained.

You didn’t know what this man was capable of. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “What do y-you want me to say?” you whimper, words barely audible.

“Still that quiet little lamb?” He holds you down so tightly your scalp burns and his other hand snakes around your throat threateningly, bending over you until your foreheads touch. “Spineless, dumb girl, this is the best you could want? Is this what you gave up everything for?” he asks, shaking your body.

You don’t understand what he’s saying or why he’s doing this, but something inside you feels ashamed at his words, like you’ve done something horribly wrong and you don’t even realize it, like a child being yelled at for going to a place they shouldn’t without an adult. You shouldn’t be here...

You want to leave!

You cry out, fighting against him. You try to scream, sound muffled by the pressure of his fingers around your neck.

Yoongi sits his full weight on top of you, his designer suit pulling at the itchy fabric of your cheap bargain clothes.

“You so desperately want to feel something, it’s all you can think about, all you can dream about. If you want to feel, I can make you feel. I can make you hurt. And I can make it feel so good. If I took away that numbness inside you, fill you up with my cock instead, wouldn’t that be nice?”

His words don’t make sense. He sounds like an echo of your thoughts being thrown back at you, like a twisted mirror showing your reflection. How could he know? 

You stop struggling, surrendering. Yoongi is too strong, too heavy, too much for you. His eyes bore into you, deep dark irises with endless depth. You can’t look away and you start to cry.

This must be what drowning feels like, pain you’re forced to confront, a miserable knowing that you steadily lower into. It’s Yoongi who reaches for you, and it didn’t matter that he was pulling you down deeper, you cling to him for salvation.

-

“Do you like your job? Y/n?”

You gasp in air, looking at Yoongi’s passive face. Your hands immediately massage your itchy throat as you look around his office, catching your breath. 

What the hell.

You feel like you’re losing your mind, grasping at something slipping between your fingers, something you can’t explain.

What the hell was that?

It had felt so real, so palpable, so shocking, like electricity through all your tired joints.

Yoongi clears his throat, tilting his head at you as you try to regain your composure.

“D-Do I like my job? I…yes, it’s fine. I’m fine,” you breathe out. You continue to look around the room and where Yoongi sits next to you. What was that?! Did you really imagine it all? 

“Really?” He crosses his arms.

You laugh nervously. “Are you supposed to like your job? Don’t they say you shouldn’t turn what you love into work, you’ll grow to hate it or something like that, I think,” you trail off, unconfident you made any sense to him. “But this is a really good position! Thank you for the, um, promotion.”

“I see...” he says. “You know, this place is not my first choice, but I can appreciate this kind of job, it molds a certain kind of person. Someone disciplined, useful. Humans are natural born workers, did you know that? The very first man and woman had jobs. When God asked Adam and Eve to tend to his Garden. Humankind was created to work, to follow.”

This conversation is so odd. “Yes...”

“So do you think you can do that for me?” he asks, clasping his hands together.

“What, Sir?”

“Follow me.”

“I...”

“You look a bit sick,” he says, touching your forehead, causing you to flinch away.

“Y-Yeah,” you mumble, looking around his office again, worried you weren’t hearing things correctly, worried you were sick in another way, maybe you should talk to someone, go to HR. “I think I, uh, maybe need to take a sick day tomorrow.”

Yoongi frowns. “Take a half day, go home for the rest of today and get better, I need you back here tomorrow,” he commands.

“Okay,” you say shakily. “Yes, Sir.”

---

“Where am I?”

It’s a familiar room you’ve only visited in your dreams. A room with no doors. A realm you know you don’t belong in, but can’t help but come back to again and again. You should be used to the fear creeping over you, but you can’t remember why.

“Stay away.” Your words echo, come out as a weak whisper. “This is a dream, just a dream,” you mutter to yourself, trying to stand, but unable to.

Yoongi walks closer to you, ignoring your pleas.

You boss? His clothes change from the familiar sleek blue suit you remembered him in into black, brown hair to stark silver, deep dark eyes becoming even darker, turning into obsidian orbs. 

You shut your eyes tightly. Your limbs feel heavy and slow, unable to move at the speed you wanted, unable to get out, unable to leave. Your body feels fractured from your mind, the physics of your dream always working against you. 

“Relax,” His deep voice sends goosebumps over your skin, the pads of his fingers dig into your sole, relaxing the muscles. You open your eyes and see Yoongi back to normal again, strong hands cradling your foot. His touch is so relaxing and pleasurable, and for a moment you forget why you’re so scared, the tension releasing from your stressed body with every deep stroke across your sole and down your calf.

“Just a dream, just a dream, just a dream.” You repeat the words like a mantra when he lets your foot drop, the familiar weight of his body back again.

“Would you like to go back already? We just started.” His skillful hands presses into your skin, up your thigh, closer and closer, kneading the muscle in tantalizing circles, replacing the tension in your body with desire. “Let go and enjoy it, y/n.”

But you can’t, you need to wake up. You shouldn’t escape into your fantasies and shut out the real world every time you become stressed. How many nights has it been? Your twisted day dreams have turned into full fledged nightmares, and now you can’t escape him, this reoccurring torturous cycle every time you close your eyes and think about Yoongi.

‘Wake up, y/n.’ Get out of your head, get out of your house! You can’t keep living like this! 

But you know, you’ll be here again, it just feels too good to stop. You don’t want to do anything but sleep and escape. It’s too easy.

And it’s too hard to resist him.

“Yoongi, fuck me. Please.”

Yoongi tuts, hand caressing down your throat and holding you there under him before he finally decides to stand.

“This time, work for it.”

He moves away and it’s cold loneliness without him on top of you, all you want to do is have him there again.

You feel the sudden energy return back to you at his command now that he wasn’t tangled over you. Your growing desire to have him back propels you.

You move yourself in front of him, getting on your knees. Assuming this is what he meant, you begin to unbuckle his belt.

He watches you, looking down at you dutifully fulfilling his orders. The perfect worker you are. Yoongi could get used to this kind of enthusiasm, even if he prefers you docile and completely pliable to his whims.

As you slowly pull out his length from his pants, you look up to make sure he is pleased. You let your lips stretch around him, taking him in your mouth as far as your throat allows.

“Good girl,” he sighs, “So sweet.”

He holds the back of your head, leading you to take him fully until you choke on his cock. Then he steps back, dragging your body forward by the hair, that way he keeps you connected to him, adjoined to him in the most sinful way.

You clumsily crawl forward, following his lead, knees hitting hard floor, a pain that reminds you just how much power he has over you.

Yoongi takes a seat, spreading his legs to make a place for you to kneel between them. He sighs in pleasure. In your dreams, you boss always seems much more at peace, putting pleasure first, and everything else melts away. Your worries, your responsibilities, your duty is only to him, it makes him happy.

You move your mouth, sucking him down over and over again until your jaw aches, until sweat drips down your forehead and your wrists and knees hurt and you’re messy and dripping for him. He helps guide you as you tire, hands still tangled in your hair.

He’s close, you can tell by the swell of his cock, the loud groans that escape his lips.

You taste his release, salty and thick. Your own is still so far away, you whimper around his still hard cock. Yoongi feels your quiver against him, and he gives you an unexpected mercy. He releases his hold on you, leaning back. “Get up and ride me now.”

You nod quickly, standing up. Yoongi lets you straddle him, awe over his muscular body. You don’t waste any time dropping down on his cock.

He watches you rut your hips side to side, up and down on his hard length, your hips moving fluidly against his own, chasing your pleasure. You reach for his hands and he lets you place his large palms over your breasts, watching as you mewl when he kneads and pulls on them. You place a hand across your collar bone and he takes the invitation to rest it higher, fingers squeezing around your throat, taking your air for his.

Oh, you’re good at this. And all Yoongi has to do is sit back and relax, let you take him, his own cocksleeve. A perfect disciple, willing to learn exactly what pleases him.

You close your eyes and listen to his low whisper, moans of encouragement. “You’re so close, don’t give up on me now, fuck yourself on my cock. That’s my girl. Keep going, come for your master.”

You tremble and whimper out his name like a prayer you’ve wished for over and over.

---

You wake up abruptly, falling off your couch, still in your work clothes from the day before.

You can’t believe you slept the whole day away. Maybe you really were sick. Your muscles ache, your head is spinning and you can’t stop thinking...

...about what it would really feel like...

...to have Yoongi’s hands hold down your body.

You clutch your head. ‘It wasn’t real.’

Your alarm hasn’t gone off, the sun is only just rising, you still have time to shower and get ready for work, but all you want to do is take away the frustratingly clawing ache inside of you, a desperate need you’re too embarrassed to acknowledge.

So you run a cold shower before breakfast instead.

You heave out a long drawn out sigh, letting the cool water hit your back, washing away your shamefulness.

You rest your head on cold tile. ‘Don’t think about him.’

No, don’t think about his rough hands on your delicate neck, his crotch pressed over your stomach, or the feeling of his cock getting harder against you.

Fuck, you want to fuck him.

You try to calm your breathing, tilting your head into the water. What are you doing? Your boss wouldn’t do that! He…

You touch your bottom lip…He could, if he wanted to.

Did you want him to?

The answer frightens you. No no, your morbid curiosity was nothing more than just that. You just wanted to feel fire, but you didn’t want to get burned.

So, like always, you resign yourself to this small depraved little fantasy. Behind shower curtains, hiding in the low light of your bath.

You trail your fingers down between your legs, working yourself up before you could think of talking yourself out of it.

It wasn’t really about him right now anyways. You just needed to release. You were so wound up and desperate, right?

You shudder a yes, pressing your fingers deeper into your sex.

You flinch as your back bumps into warmth. ‘This is not real.’

Smooth, wet skin, pressing back against you, fingers gripping your wrist so you don’t stop.

You feel yourself unraveling as lips run along your shoulder, the same lips you couldn’t stop thinking about. You close your eyes, whimpering, scared to look behind you and either confirm your delusions or become utterly lost in them. 

You pull your fingers out, circling your clit, thinking of how good it feels to have Yoongi pressed against your back, his cock up between your legs.

The way he would be so merciless when he pushes his cock inside you, pulling your leg up higher to angle himself deeper.

You moan, feeling so full it makes your head spin.

The way his fingers would explore your body, gripping you like he owns you, pinching your nipples, pulling at your hips, pressing down on your tongue.

This fantasy feels so real, all that’s missing is…

“Can’t help yourself, greedy slut, can you? You ever wonder why that is, y/n?”

You cry out, focusing on the piercing drag of his cock against your walls. “Aw does it hurt? I told you, I would hurt you.”

He slams into you over again, water splashing with every impact against your ass. You struggle to stay standing, clinging to tile. “You’ll take it, though, like a good obedient whore.”

He pulls out, turning you around.

It shocks you how real this fantasy of yours looks. It’s dangerous how effective your thoughts work to rile you up, he’s dangerous.

“Lusting after monsters, you haven’t changed one bit, y/n.”

“I want to stop it,” you admit, shaking against him out of fear and pleasure. “I don’t know how,” you whimper, knowing you can only ever really have him like this, a twisted version of your boss you made up for yourself. It’s shameful and sickening.

“Because you’re mine. Look at you,” he tuts, “Your soul weeps for me,” he presses his fingers inside your dripping cunt, “But I want more than that, you understand?”

“What?” you stutter out.

He kisses you roughly, swallowing your whines. You close your eyes, lost to pleasure as his tongue rolls over your neck, sucking. You can’t stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him, fingers tangling in his wet hair, succumbing to your delusion.

“Devotion. Your sweet devotion, give me your that, and you won’t need to do anything else ever again.”

---

Tap tap tap.

Click Click Click.

What?

What?

Wait. Wait.

You stand up suddenly, startling those working around you. You look around, scanning the familiar setting over and over again.

Afraid you’ll start a scene you turn your heel and walk quickly to the bathroom.

Only when you’re alone and have caught your breath do you go to the mirror and stare at your reflection.

Your hair is still damp, the collar of your work shirt is wet, fading water droplets across your jacket and skirt.

And your panties feel wet, sticking to your core.

Shit, you think, noticing your smudged makeup. How long have you looked like this? You grab paper towels quickly, rubbing away the lipstick smudged under your lip, trying to gather your thoughts together.

What was happening to you? Why can’t you remember how you got here?

You massage your temples, feeling dizzy. There has to be an explanation, you just have to look for it.

But...

...unfortunately, right now you have work to do.

-

You sit at your desk, chewing on crackers, contemplating the idea that you might be going completely insane.

Your cell buzzes. ‘Sixth floor meeting room. Now.’

It’s your boss of course. You can’t face him right now. You turn off your cell, nibbling on your nails in your anxiousness.

This isn’t normal, something is very wrong with you. You end up back in the bathroom, trying to retrace your steps, figuring out the minutes that were escaping you. You turn on the faucet, wetting a towel, running the wet paper across your forehead to calm yourself.

You catch your reflection again, except this time, there are two.

Another person, behind you, staring back.

An image of a devil.

A beautiful devil.

Smiling wickedly behind you, an image of a man so haunting you forget how to breathe.

You scream.

Before you can turn around and confront your worst nightmares the bathroom door bursts open, familiar hands wrapping around your wrists and pulling you away.

Yoongi is pissed.

You can tell as he drags you along, not stopping until you are back in his office.

His nails dig into your elbow, pulling you possessively closer to him. “Missing him?!”

You shake your head frantically. Miss who? Not...

Whoever that was...no, you didn’t want to think about it anymore!

You whimper, feeling weak and dizzy.

��Oh poor little y/n,” Yoongi tuts, “you just need some more rest.”

---

“What do you think you’re doing, my friend?” Jimin asks. “You’re not usually this persistent.”

Yoongi yawns, undoing his tie. “I want her longer.”

Jimin laughs, so loud it would have surely woken you up if it weren’t for Yoongi’s effect on your body. “Fine.”

He watches your brow furrow, “I do enjoy watching the fight in her return,” Jimin laughs.

For all the passion Jimin possessed, Jimin was a heartless demon.

Jimin had thoroughly broken you, taken from you until you had nothing left to give and became a boredom to him. 

So it was Yoongi’s turn. 

“This is a nice little world,” Jimin looks around, flicking the metal name plate in the center of Yoongi’s desk.

“We’re currently not hiring.”

“Oh, don’t be like that!” Jimin whines.

“You can have her back when I’m done.”

Jimin bites his lip in thought. “You’re not lying to me, are you, dear friend?” he asks. “You remember she called out to me first. I can, hmmm, satisfy her the best.”

Jimin’s fingers trail the curves of your body, and even in your slumber your body responds to his touch, writhing in the other demon’s lap. Yoongi holds you loosely, caressing your cheek as you whine softly. Jimin moans at the sight.

Yoongi laughs, “Concerned for her satisfaction, are you?”

Jimin holds up his palms in mock defeat, smirking. “Okay. Then, let me watch.”

---

A soft touch, wet and warm.

You’re too tired to open your eyes, not yet fully awake. Your limbs laid sprawled out, sinking into the thick covers under you, body too sluggish to move. You don’t want to wake up just yet, it feels too good. It feels real good.

You breathe in, turning your head into your pillow, leaning into the softness against your cheek, the warmth rolling over your stomach, the weight on your pelvis. It makes you gasp softly.

Yoongi smiles against your skin, mouth opening to taste you again.

Your body rocks against the soft sheets. You wish to moan, but you can’t. You wish to press your sex closer to the delicious sensation between your legs, but you can’t. If only you could wrap your legs around it, beg for more. But you can only lie sedated in your pleasure, getting wetter and wetter.

---

You wake up restless in your bed, needing to pee. Stumbling through your pitch black room, you search for the light switch, your drowsiness slipping quickly away and being replaced by an anxiousness when you can’t find it.

The darkness frightens you. But even scarier, what could be hiding, terrifies you.

Click.

You decide to keep the lights on when you return. 

You lie in bed thinking about him. Min Yoongi, when did he become such an obsession for you?

Maybe you need to find yourself a boyfriend, try dating, you stay home too much. You sigh, realizing how you have spent every other night in bed...fantasizing...instead. You’ve always been alone, but you’re starting to notice the loneliness, and it’s becoming suffocating. You need to go out, appreciate the couple hours of free time in the evening you had after working all day and afternoon. You’re coming to a realization your freedom shouldn't feel so...confining. The four walls of your room feel so close now. When did you become so lazy, so closed off and boring?

The sad realization leaves you even more unwilling to take the risk. Honestly, you should be grateful you have a roof over your head and a meal in your stomach and the luxury of being able to relax at home.

What about your dreams, ambitions?

Shh, you silence that annoying voice inside you. Those aren’t affordable! And take so much more energy than you have right now. But a nicer steak the next time you go shopping, a small joy, could still be an option.

Tomorrow, you’ll buy it tomorrow.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow.

Tonight, you’ll take your mind off your troubles.

So you go back to your increasing obsession with your boss.

You breathe in, thinking of the cologne you smelled on him today. Those eyes that narrow when you do something wrong, so sexy, it almost makes you want to make him angry.

You wonder what goes on in his mind when he gets annoyed at you. If he wants to punish you, if he could get away with anything, what kind of punishment would it be? another voice inside you asks.

Bending you over his desk?

Maybe.

Would he find serenity in slaps across your ass? A belt welting your cheeks.

Your previously relaxed limbs seize.

Fuck, it hurts. It hurts so much. There is cold wood against your front and stinging down your back. You can’t help but cry out, leather digging into your wrists. 

What?

How?

“Shhhhh. Keep dreaming.”

The leather bands around your wrists hurt. You’re dreaming? Really? But this is too real.

But how else could you explain this situation? Your legs spread open, Yoongi standing in between them as he admires your aching backside.

He runs his fingers over the welts across your ass, making you hiss in pain.

“Let’s keep going, shall we?”

You stay quiet, unable to move, crying out when sharp pain comes back down across your ass.

“Oh, now don’t go regretting this now. You wanted this remember?”

Another slap makes you scream out in pain. You want to wake up now. ‘Wake up!’

“You chose this. You gave away your freedom just like that, dumb girl.”

Another hard smack with his belt has you reeling, legs tightening around Yoongi’s torso as you twist your body in agony. You sob, unable to handle anymore pain.

So Yoongi forces pleasure on you instead with two fingers inserted into your pussy, massaging the throbbing pain away. He slips in and out easily, the wetness that gushed out of you was a shameful reminder that you had been a willing captive. You moan weakly, body tired.

He easily builds up your orgasm, practiced fingers curling into your sex, stroking you inside and out until you’re close to bursting.

Yoongi stops, taking the moment to strike your ass with his messy palm. You shiver and cry out. “P-Please,” you stutter, pulling at your restraints.

Yoongi resumes his ministrations, “Please...Sir,” he reminds you.

“Please, Sir, let me come,” you gasp.

Yoongi turns you around, lifting your restrained hands over your head. He moves so fast you yelp at the sudden movement, only realizing after he lets go that the loud thud you heard was his letter opener sticking into wood and restraining you to his desk.

Your breathe becomes ragged as you lie tied down, body exposed to him. His thumb swipes over your clit, making you cry out his name. He sits, rubbing lazy circles into you, watching your body uncontrollably react. The buildup is achingly slow, steady, reliable, you know your orgasm is approaching and you are ever so close to release, yet Yoongi draws it out, until you feel the pressure in your ears, in you throat, in your feet, in your chest.

If this was another fantasy, it was the best one yet. Yoongi had fire in his eyes, electric movement, a demanding touch. You cum hard, crying out.

It wasn’t over even after your orgasm finished, Yoongi moves in closer, lips kissing your inner thigh. “Stay still, relax,” he smirks when your breath hitches.

You lose your breath all over again when his face rests in between your legs, burying his mouth into your sex. His tongue rolls over your folds, sucks on your abused nub. You clench your jaw and accept his pleasure. Your body pulses over and over again as Yoongi eats you out, your legs and hands going numb, but like Yoongi promised, you felt everything he was giving you, until exhaustion overcame you.

-

You wake up, still wet. You try not to feel ashamed, but your shame sticks to your core, underwear drenched and stretched as you slept.

Maybe it’s time to look for another job.

-

“Here’s your reports. And the notes for your next presentation. And-” you hand Yoongi a warm cup of coffee, “-for you. Black, half sugar.”

“Thank you, y/n,” Yoongi grunts, sipping the coffee. 

“Thank you, Sir,” you smile, beaming.

Yoongi smiles too. It’s slight, barely there, but you notice the small curl of his lips. “You did well,” he reaches for your waist, pulling you close. “My best girl.” 

You smile. “I-” you falter, “Have I…have we always been like this?” you think out loud.

“Does it matter? Doesn’t this feel right?” His hand caresses this inside of your thigh, disappearing under your skirt.

“S-Sir?!”

“Isn’t it nice working for me, why would you want to leave?”

You swallow, trying to sort out your surroundings, the happiness inside you shrinking away.

“Has that always been there?” you ask.

Yoongi glances at the corner of his office, pressing his fingers against your panties, rubbing on your clit through the sheer fabric. 

You stare at the relic that didn’t belong there, a golden piano. No, that wasn’t quite right, it was an organ.

Yoongi pulls your gaze back to him, caressing your check. “That poor little mind of yours...” he sighs, tutting. “Why don’t you forget about that and just enjoy yourself? You’re finally starting to be useful to me.” 

You can’t help but look for the organ from the corner of your eyes, a cold dripping feeling running down your spine.

Yoongi pulls you into his lap until you’re straddling him, your tight skirt digging into your thighs as you have to widen your legs around him. His mouth latches onto your neck to distract you, licking your clammy skin, sending shivers down you again.

His fingers curl inside your panties, moving the fabric to the side, so he can insert his digits fully. You hold his shoulders for stability, biting down moans.

“This is another dream.”

“Oh have you been dreaming about me?” he smirks.

“No!” you pant, “Yes...I’m dreaming.” His steady pressure moving inside you makes you dizzy, your jaw going slack as you lean into him. You can’t help but widen your legs, giving in to him in your lust. Yoongi takes the opportunity to kiss you, devouring your lips.

A knock on Yoongi’s office door stops his movements.

You stand up quickly, straightening your clothes, looking over at the corner where you could have sworn you had seen the large organ instrument.

“These came in for you, Sir.” A receptionist drops off three packages for him, excusing herself quietly before looking you over, her eyes narrowing at your appearance.

“You can leave now,” he says curtly and she huffs before leaving. He then turns back to you, swiping his fingers across his lips, tongue jutting out to roll over his wet glistening digits.

You pat down your skirt, legs wobbling. This wasn’t a dream?

“Come here.”

“Sir?” You look at the door, closed again, but unlocked.

“Come here, y/n.”

You take one hesitant step closer. Was this really happening? “W-We can’t,” you stutter out. “You can’t-”

“I can do whatever I want,” Yoongi laughs, “I’m the boss, remember? Now, come here.” He moves his chair further away, turning to fully face you, legs spread, a position you’ve only dreamed about.

You wipe the perspiration away from your brow and neck, looking down at his black Oxfords, until you’re finally courageous enough to look Yoongi in the eye, and what a mistake that was.

His eyes held a challenge that you couldn’t back away from. Yoongi was unbuckling his belt, undoing the button of his slacks.

He didn’t say come here this time, his pointer finger only had to draw one small movement to coax you to him.

He pulls you back to his lap easily, lets you clumsily touch him. This was really happening, and your boss seemed to be enjoying himself, acting so much nicer.

The smile he revealed, you believed to show kindness.

You smiled foolishly back, and he patted you head.

You hesitantly moved in for a kiss, pressing your lips softly to him, heart leaping when he opened his mouth for more, tasting his tongue.

The door opens again and you freeze, mortified at your predicament.

“I thought I told you to stay away.”

“You did, but look at her, she’s dripping with lust.”

With your back to the door, you can't see who is behind you, but his smooth sultry voice makes you shudder.

His words feels like daggers, each syllable chiseling away at you, fracturing what was left that held you together, revealing the truth underneath. It hit you like a splash of cold water, like waking up from a dream.

You look down at your hands, grasping tightly onto Yoongi’s shirt. “Father Park?”

“Hmm, not here,” he laughs, hands in his pockets, “Here you can call me Daddy,” he cocks his head, smiling.

Yoongi caresses your check, holding your jaw up when your head lulls to the side. You hear clicking, a belt buckle unfastening.

---

You wake up again in darkness.

That darkness never really left you, did it?

“Why are you doing this to me?” you call out.

The organ player reveals himself. He must have always been there too. “Because this is what you wanted,” he crawls over you, like he’s done countless times before, “what you begged for, prayed for, gave up everything for.”

“No, I didn’t want this,” you stutter out. Who was that woman you became? You barely recognized yourself in her...

Yet there were similarities, you suppose. If you had to recite a list of all your sins, you suppose your lists would look identical. If you had that kind of life, you suppose the path she took would have your footprints as well...

“Am I dead?” you look at your surroundings, soft sheets under you, fabric cascading over your body.

“Dead? No.” Yoongi chuckles. “You exist, y/n. Well, for us, death is just another existence.” Yoongi lies down next to you, arm over your stomach. You should push him away from you, but it’s cold and Yoongi is warmth, a fire lighting up the darkness.

“So I am dead...” you whisper.

“Is that what you’re worried about?” Yoongi laughs. Humans can be quite amusing, he thinks. “What if I told you, you’re very much alive. See, the living realm is so much more fun, why would we keep you dead?”

“This place...”

“Welcome home,” Yoongi sighs, head snuggled to your shoulder.

“Is this hell?” you whisper, head heavy and limbs slow.

“No, not yet,” Yoongi smirks, “It’s just a dream. A place we can be alone together.”

“What is Jimin doing to my body?” you ask. You heart pounds, making you dizzy and anxious for the answer.

“Your body? Humans really are funny creatures...What is a body but a vessel to hold what’s really important, your soul, and who owns your soul, y/n?” he asks you. You stay quiet, resisting the answer, the consequence you’ll never escape from. “I will tell you something,” he whispers in your ear, “Your soul is here, with me. I hold it for the time being.” He places his hand over your heart, cupping your breast. “Feels just like it would in the physical world, doesn’t it?” he massages and tugs at the flesh. “Maybe it’s better, if you stay here with me?”

“Stay here, with you?” you repeat, trying to think of anything other than Yoongi’s slow torturous touch. You realize his touch feels familiar, skilled fingers like an old lover’s. You’ve betrayed yourself, over and over again.

You wonder if this is what you’ve become now, traitorous, self-gratifying, weak...did Father Park do this to you? Yoongi? Or was this...ache...void inside you always there, begging to be filled, to be touched?

And Yoongi was so excellent at making you feel whole, feel full of him and nothing else. He hugged you secure like a blanket, hands claiming you, soft and slow, with all the time in the world to make you his.

“If you decide you’d rather, let me have you, instead. Jimin is a master of desire. But we all are very adept at pleasure,” Yoongi smirks. “We can stay here for as long as you like. Your bones can turn to dust, but with me, here, your soul will remain. And you’ll be my Queen.” He kisses you, a slow drag of his lips pressing heavily onto yours making you feel even weaker.

The cascading fabric became tight around you, gold rings fastening it all in place to become a beautiful gown. You noticed Yoongi too wore gold, adorned on a black suit of armor fit for a King.

“Isn’t this what you dream of always?” he asks, a small smile pulling at his lips that made him look unthreatening. You knew better, but those tiny truths were being quieted by your King, who played his role so well, stuck his tongue inside your mouth and muted any lingering objections.

He places his hands on top of yours, stretching your arms upward, holding you in place, tongue taking away your voice. He lies his weight on top of you, kissing too sweetly the stretch of your neck, head nestled in the valley between your breasts, body sinking between your legs, mounting pleasure taking all your doubts away. “You don’t have to worry anymore,” Yoongi lies, “Give up. Give in.”

You try to keep your eyes open.

Yet your eyes flutter shut.

---

“Y/n.”

“Huh?” You turn your head in question.

Yoongi clears his throat, “As I was saying, due to the merger everyone is going to have to buckle down. We have to implement all new procedures, switch operating systems, upgrade the database... Are you listening!”

“Yes? Yes! Yes, Sir.” You sit up straighter, focusing on your boss.

“Expect to be here extra days, at least until everything settles in place.”

“Yes, Sir,” you nod, unsuccessfully trying not to frown.

“Also, since you will be managing twice as many people,” you wince at the thought, “You will have an assistant.”

On cue, there is a knock on Yoongi’s door.

“Hello,” you nod, standing up, forgetting you still had your binder in your lap, and papers scatter all over the floor. Yoongi curses as you quickly pick up your mess.

Your new assistant hands you the last stack of your remaining papers. You thank him, flustered at his kind gesture, your face heating up when you accidently bump his finger with your own.

“Hello,” he grins.

Yoongi lifts you up by the elbow, catching you off guard as you struggle to reorient yourself. “Nice to meet you, um...”

“Park Jimin.” Jimin licks his lips, beaming with excitement. “Hey, boss.”

You watch as the pair clasp hands, exchanging greetings. And a small part of you wonders, how it would feel

if their hands

were touching you instead.

---

So did you catch that y/n was actually reborn, did I fool you? But alas her soul is still theirs u.u

If this reaches 1k then I guess I will write a Mr. Kim version with the Kim trio, cause I’m not making myself suffer like this again for nothing lol :’D

#bts yandere #bts demon au #yandere bts #bts smut #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #suga smut #suga x reader #bts one shot #bts scenarios #bts fantasy au

[ughgoaway]

naughty vs nice // day 5

content warnings; smut (or at least attempted smut), blow jobs, kinda public?, sub-ish matty, swearing, misogyny and drinking.

a/n; now... I am not good at smut writing but I felt it was my duty to at least attempt some for y'all. if this is completely tragic, I apologise in advance lol <3

word count; 2.9k

(this fic takes place after they've gotten together)

12 days masterlist

✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿

“So please, go and mingle parents and teachers! Your little ones are all having their own party in the gym, so enjoy your night off!” The headteacher raised his glass of wine as he finished his welcome, each person doing the same and then giving him a small round of applause. 

You were currently talking to Mrs Jones and pretending to listen to her whine about her new teacher assistant and how useless they are. But your eyes continue to drift over her shoulder to meet Matty’s. 

He stands across the room from you chatting to Adam and another teacher, but he can't keep focused on anything when you are dressed like that less than 20 feet away from him. 

Your asymmetric dress draped over one shoulder and left the other bare. The body con hugged your figure in a way that had Matty's heart hammering at his ribs whenever he looked at you. The small slit teased him further. Every time your leg shifted and more of your thigh poked out, he had to make a conscious effort to not get hard.

Matty's eyes were drawn to the glowing skin of your exposed collarbone. Thinking of not even 30 minutes earlier when he stood between your legs mouthing at that exact spot as you whimpered under him. 

/////

“You can't leave a mark baby,” you pant out but make no effort to stop his motions, “everyone will know exactly what I've been doing” You giggle as he nips lightly at your collarbone.

Your legs were spread as you sat on your desk and Matty moved his mouth over you. 

“I don't care, I want them to know. Want them to know you’re my girl” he says, coming out from your neck with puffy kiss-bitten lips and messy curls from your wandering hands.

You sigh sadly and start to adjust his tie and stroke a hand over his hair to fix it, “I know, but we can't tell anyone. Not while im still so new here, im pretty sure if Mrs Richards knew I was fucking the hot rockstar Dad she’d fire me on the spot.”

Matty smirks and ignores most of your statement, opting to focus on one small part, “hot rockstar dad, huh? Is that what you teachers call me when you’re gossiping about me?”

Your cheeks go red, and you shake your head unconvincingly, matty hums and says “Sure sweetheart.”

You push him away playfully and stand, brushing your hands over your dress and straightening it out, not wanting to join the party looking like a teenager who has been caught fooling around.

“Okay you have to stay away from me tonight, or I'm just gonna jump you. you look too good in that suit” You smooth your hands over his lapels, and Matty smiles coyly at your words. 

“Mmm maybe I want that, though,” he teases as he smoothly slides his hands around your waist. A firm look from you has Matty backtracking, quickly saying, “Okay okay, I promise. I won't come near you tonight. Scouts honour” Matty faux salutes you, and you can't help but giggle at your boyfriend's ridiculousness.

That promise lasted all of 30 minutes, but soon you were roped into a conversation with Matty and two other dads, both of whom you hated. 

Mike Wilson and Martin Addams were two eye-roll-inducing men. You avoided them at all costs, but as you walked past them, Martin waved you over. 

“y/n perfect, we need a good woman's opinion here,” he says, smirking at you, shamelessly running his eyes over your body. You see Matty tense out of the corner of your eye, but he sighs and shakes it off.

“Ah hello everyone,” you say with faux politeness, giving Matty a subtle nod that he returns and fights the smile threatening his cheeks.

“You're a traditional woman, aren't you y/n?” Martin asks, not giving you time to answer before carrying on, “You have a job, but you get that women aren't meant to work. If you had kids or whatever, you'd be at home in the kitchen like a proper lady, wouldn't you?” his question had you frozen on the spot.

What kind of fucking question is that? What would possess him to ask you that?

Before you get a chance to try and give a fake, polite response, Mike jumps in, “Yeah! You get that a woman's purpose is to have kids and look after the house. You're all just babymakers, really, aren't you?” he says, laughing and nodding at you as if you'd agree with anything coming out of his mouth.

You fight to give an appropriate response. You really do. But Matty can see your shoulder tense as you begin to speak, and he knows exactly what's coming. 

“Excuse me if im being dense here,” you begin, “but have you seriously asked me, a woman with a full-time job and who is totally independent, if I believe women are meant to be ‘baby makers’?” you give a sarcastic air quote as you copy mikes words. 

You give them an incredulous look, and before they can stutter an apology, you cut them off, just as they had done to you. 

“Well forgive my language but since there are no kids around I can say pretty confidenly that you two are fucking insane. What possessed you to say that I'll never know, but I do know that both of your daughters are doomed if you say like things like that around them. How dare you speak about women that way? You should both be ashamed.” You shake your head in disappointment at the men in front of you, your teacher voice coming out as you scold them. 

Both men scoff and walk away wordlessly, leaving you and Matty standing there. You give him a disbelieving smile, and he simply nods in agreement. 

“God those two are dickheads. Good thing I couldn't care less about them,” you pause and suck in a breath before giving Matty an apologetic look, “Sorry my teacher voice came out at the end there, it felt like I was scolding two kids.” you roll your eyes as you finish. 

Matty shakes his head and looks at you shyly. He wordlessly motions you closer, and you lean in ever so slightly to hear his whisper. 

“Don't worry about it, babe, it was kind of hot actually,” he says shyly, avoiding eye contact with you as he says it. You give him a shocked look and watch the red spread on his cheeks.

A thrill of power skitters through your bones at his comment, liking seeing Matty slightly bashful. 

“Oh is that right?” Your breathy words are heavy with lust, and Matty looks at you speechless before nodding dumbly. 

You see his hand slide from his side to the front of his trousers and adjust his crotch slightly.

Oh, how very interesting.

You didn't think he'd be into that, or that you would. But you can't deny that the horny look in his eyes had you turned on. 

Teasingly, you raise your eyebrows at Matty. He bites his lip unconsciously as he stares at yours, and any resolve you had snaps. 

“Come with me” you demand, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the hall. His head shoots around to see if anyone is looking, but the only person's eyes he meets are Adam's.

He simply gives him a disbelieving chuckle and a shake of his head, knowing about the secret relationship the two of you had begun.

Matty smiles back and turns around to follow you like an eager puppy. You drag him down the empty corridors and stop in front of random doors to see if they're unlocked. Every time you jiggle a handle that doesn't move, you grumble angrily and keep dragging Matty along.

Eventually, the store cupboard door swings open, and you grin victoriously, shoving Matty in with two hands on his chest. With a thump, he smacks against the wall. The impact combined with the look of hunger in your eyes has him breathless. 

With a swing in your hips, you shut the door and stroll towards him. Once you're centimetres away from his face, Matty leans in, desperate to kiss you. 

“Ah ah ah,” you say as you pull away much to Matty's disappointment, but any sadness soon leaves his brain as you sink to your knees in front of him.

You smirk as his eyes shoot open wide, his mouth drops open as a shocked gasp crackles our from his throat.

“Oh fuck” he says disbelievingly as your hands start to smooth over his stomach and push up his shirt. 

“You like it when im bossy, huh?” You teasingly whisper and lean forward, kissing Matty's exposed stomach and tracing the spattering of hair trailing down with your tongue. 

He nods dumbly and watches you. You work your mouth over him diligently, nipping and kissing his abdomen. 

“Pleasepleaseplease just touch me!” Matty whimpers out from above you, bucking his hips forward desperately. His pathetic whimpers cause electricity to spark down your spine.

He grows increasingly impatient as you playfully kiss every inch of him. You can see him growing more and more needy for your mouth, and you love it.

Soon, it becomes too much, and he can't stay quiet.

The control you had was making you dizzy. With a firm hand, you press his hips back to the wall forcibly, pulling a weak protest from Matty's lips.

Matty couldn't care less how meagre he sounded at that moment. He needed your mouth on him now.  

before long, he isthanking whatever god there is above because your fingers begin to unbutton his trousers and pull them down his legs.

Your hands move up from his thighs to toy with the corkscrew curls you see sitting at the top of his boxers. A small damp patch sits on the front of his underwear, the dark grey making you salivate with want. 

Messily you lean forward and begin to mouth along the outline of his hard cock. The wet patch grows as more pre-cum dribbles from his head, mixing with your saliva the more you lick over him.

Pitiful noises come from deep within Matty's chest as his hand comes to rest on the back of your head subconsciously. You wrench your mouth away from him, and he whines desperately. 

“Ah no touching baby, did I say you could hold my head? Keep your hands to yourself,” you say forcefully, earning a loose nod from Matty, his head no longer feeling attached to his neck.

“M’ sorry it just feels so good i- ohmygod” you interrupt Matty by palming over his boxers harshly, giving his cock a firm squeeze that made him buckle at the waist. Almost falling forward at the sensation. 

Tantalisingly slow you pull his waistband down over his leaking cock, he groans at the pressure on his head. 

He was not sure he's ever been this hard. He could feel his heartbeat in his dick every time a bead of precum leaks down his shaft. The feeling of you releasing his swollen cock made his whole body fill with a visceral need for you.

You lean forward and kitten lick the tip, and Matty gasps so hard he breaks out in a fit of coughs, not prepared for any contact from your hot tongue. 

“Have you thought about this a lot, baby, huh? Me down on my knees for you? Choking on your dick? I bet you dreamt of filling my mouth with your cum” you say as you press a kiss on his rose tattoo, moving to recreate the same action to his other hip bone. Your hot breath teases Matty as you skip over where he needs you most.

His cock jumped at your words and his curls bounced in time with his needy nods, “Yes yes yes. I thought about it all the time. I dreamt of this. Just- please put your mouth on me” he whines out, trying not to buck his hips into your mouth. 

He didn't think he'd get off to being dominated, but the power in your eyes only made him more desperate for you.

“Well since you asked so nicely, my love,” you say with a sickly sweet smile before sinking your mouth on Matty quickly, taking as much as you can down your throat in one go.

The noise Matty made was animalistic, he felt completely out of control of his body. and he fucking loved it.

“SHIT. You're so fucking good at that. god-” Matty stares at your mouth, stretching out over him, admiring your red lipstick smudging on his dick. The ring of red moves further, and further down the more of him you fit in your throat. 

You moan in appreciation, which causes Matty's hips to stutter. A warning look from you has him furiously muttering out apologies.

“Im so sorry baby it just feels too good. Oh fuck- ill be good, I promise. I'll be a good boy” his cock throbbed painfully in your mouth. You marvel at the musky taste of precum on your tongue and pull it off with a wet pop. 

“Oh, you want to be my good boy?” You tease, leaning forward and letting a glob of spit fall from your plump lips onto his tip. Matty's eyes nearly bulge out of his head at the sight of your smudged red lips spitting on him and your hand working your salvia over his aching cock. 

“Yes yes. I wanna be your good boy-” he said, straining his words as he did. clearly yearning for your praise.

“You're such a good boy, sweetheart. My good boy” You give him a cheeky smile as you sink your mouth all the way down on Matty and begin furiously working his cock in your mouth.

Matty was chanting obscenities as your mouth moved over him, getting more and more incoherent as you went. Wet slurping noises filled the air of the small cupboard along with Matty's frenzied words. 

You feel his dick pulse in your mouth, and you know he's close. His body was telling the story that he couldn't.

“M’ so so close baby- please please can I cum?” he pleads with you, looking down with wide puppy dog eyes. His begging only caused the wet patch in your underwear to grow, holding this much power over a man like Matty was turning you on beyond belief.

You pulled off with a gasp and continued to furiously pump his cock with your hand, “What was that baby? Tell me again, I didn't quite catch it over your fucking pathetic whimpers.” ever so slightly your hand slows and Matty immediately stutters to repeat himself, desperate to give you what you want.

“Fuck yes, you're gonna make me cum. FUCK. please can I cum? I really want to cum in your mouth. Please please pleaseplease-” he nods as he speaks in a desperate attempt to convince you to allow him the release he needs so intensely.

“Since you've been polite, and such a good boy” his cock leaks on your fist at the praise, revelling in you calling him good. you lean forward as you speak, your mouth teasing the tip of him.

“cum” you demand and place his dick back in your mouth.

Matty's mouth falls open, and he lets out a guttural groan, with a few weak thrusts combined with your bobbing head he spills onto your tongue.

You moan at the taste of him as his cum trickles down your throat. He pants above you as you pull off and give him a sly grin. 

You knew he was staring at you like you were an angel on earth, so you opened your mouth to present him with the ribbons of cum that sat on your tongue.

You brought your hand up and stuck your fingers in your mouth, spreading his cum around the inside of your cheeks. Even bringing some out so smudge over your lips.

As you swallow, an involuntary groan comes out of you. You lick your lips deliberately, knowing Matty loves a performance. 

He stared down at you dumbly, in shock over what he had just witnessed.

Once he was capable of speaking again Matty groaned, “fucking hell, that was insane. You're insane ” he panted as he tried to catch what little breath he had.

You smile like the Cheshire cat and rise off your knees to stand chest-to-chest with Matty. You lean in and kiss him desperately.

Matty can taste his release on your tongue, and he briefly thinks this might be the hottest thing that has ever happened to him.

His tongue chases yours urgently, trying to keep you intertwined and chase the taste of him in your mouth.

Voices outside the door pull you away from each other. You both stare nervously at the door, but luckily, the voices drift past effortlessly. 

A laugh escapes the two of you, and Matty pulls you in for a hug. His chest heaves as you burrow your nose into the junction between his neck and shoulder. You pull up slightly and lick the outside of his ear before whispering, “So I think you liked that” with a cheeky giggle.

Matty looks at you with a grin that goes ear to ear and nods slowly, both of you lightly laughing at the absurdity of the situation. 

“I definitely liked that.”

#christmas75 #matty healy #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fic #matty healy fluff #matty healy smut #matty healy x you #matty healy x reader #the 1975 fic #teacher au! #i did enjoy writing this #was able to convince myself that reading smut counted as “research”

[onlymingyus]

Bed of Roses (sax, settlements, and speakeasies collab)

pairing; lee seokmin (dk/dokyeom) x afab reader

genre; smut (minor dni), fluff, romance, angst

warnings; unprotected sex, marking, scratching, use of a rose as foreplay (rubbed against pussy), mentions the readers hair being pinned up and longer, cigarettes/smoking, alcohol, fighting, use of 1920's slang (probably poorly)

w/c; 6.7k and some change 

sax, settlements, and speakeasies masterlist

a/n; this was a fun fic to write, i tried to do as much research as i could but as with any period fic there will be inconsienctancies and lack of knowledge. thank you to @hyucks-rose for hosting this collab! thank you to @junkissed-replies and @wonwussy for reading and proofreading! please be sure to read all the fics in the collab as some will overlap -- mine will overlap some with @lipglossjun especially as she is writing for jihoon

Seokmin’s fingers run along the microphone, a smile crossing his lips that makes your stomach tighten even before he looks in your direction. A rose in his left hand, his signature prop every performance. Seokmin’s voice feels like silk against your skin as it reaches your ears.  

He grins into his song, his voice melting every person’s heart as he makes eye contact with a choice few before settling on you. You press your lips together, crossing your legs from one direction to the other and drawing his eyes down to them before he looks away. He knew better than to linger too long with all the eyes on him, especially Lee Jihoon’s, his boss and your brother. 

Your teeth catch your lip as he sings, making the women next to you swoon as if they get to go home with him at the end of the night. He had that effect on people. He could look at them, sing or talk to them, and make them feel like they were the only person in the entire world. When in reality you were the only person he wanted in his world and in his bed every night. 

Moving around the bar, Jihoon pauses to lean on the end, watching Seokmin with careful eyes. He was proud of the man, not only as an employee but as a friend. He had watched him grow into his voice over the past few years and over the past few months it had seemed his confidence had gotten even stronger. 

Jihoon’s eyes fell on you sitting at a front table, your finger running around the rim of a Jack Rose, a recent favorite of yours. You spent most of your nights here, though he urged you to find something better to do with your time. There were much better places for a woman who looked as nice as you to be, but you insisted on coming to The Diamond Glass night after night. 

“God, he’s a real cake-eater.” You narrow your eyes slightly to the conversation to your right, two girls swooning over Seokmin as he makes his way down the steps finishing his set. The rose dangling from his fingers. Each night he would hand off that rose to a lucky lady and most nights, just like tonight it ended up between your fingers. “Miss Lee.”

You laugh, feeling your cheeks burning at his attention and everyone else’s in the room. The girls at your side scoff, “He only gives it to her because she’s the owner’s kid sister. Sucking up to his boss, pretty smart of him. He’s using his head, can’t fault him for being smart.” 

Seokmin sighed softly, his back turned to the women. He had heard their conversation as well but he was a smart man who knew which battles to choose…even if they included you. Walking back up the stairs, Seokmin takes a bow then gestures to his band taking extra care to give more attention to the piano player, Junhui. The man grins, his fingers running across the ivory like he was born on that stool and to be in front of an audience. 

“Thank you ladies and gents. Refill your drinks and give another round of applause for Mr. Lee Jihoon for making any of this possible.” The patrons gasp in awe, many of them turning towards where Seokmin gestures at the bar to look at Jihoon. The man clearly not wanting the attention, simply lifts a hand and presses his lips together. His eyes scan over the crowd for you but in the excitement he had lost track of you, the only thing left on your table is a half finished Jack Rose and a long stem red rose. 

You smile against Seokmin’s lips, his fingers pressing against your sides to hold you against the wall of the dressing room. He couldn’t help but to return the smile having watched you as much as he could during his performance. You had fueled him and also frustrated him. “God, doll…you drive me crazy. You know that?” 

Nipping at his lips causes a small groan to slip from Seokmin’s lips. He knew that you were a minx and that you knew exactly what you were doing. “I don’t know nothin’, Seokmin. I’m just some girl who’s fallen head over heels for some singer.” 

Shaking his head, Seokmin’s smile pulls at the corner of his eyes. Your fingers clinging to his suit jacket feels like the only thing keeping him grounded to Earth. “Is that what you are?” Lifting his hand, Seokmin runs his thumb along your cheek, his index finger folded under your chin to lift your gaze to meet his own. 

“I think you are so much more than that. I’d give it all up for you, but you know that. Couldn’t stand hearing those girls running their traps off about something they don’t know anything about. Wanted to tell them you are my girl and to mind their business…” 

When you laugh, lowering your eyes, leaning your head to press your lips to Seokmin’s palm he feels like he is melting on the spot. You didn’t have to do anything special to get him wound up. “You know you can’t.” 

Yeah, Seokmin knew but that didn’t mean it made it any easier. It wasn’t like this was just some crush, this was the real thing. He wanted to tell the world, most of all he wanted to tell Jihoon so the two of you could just stop hiding but even the thought of it made his stomach twist up in knots. 

Jihoon sighed heavily, pushing through the crowd trying to make his way towards the back hall. He wanted to figure out where you had slipped off to but after Seokmin’s gracious words the patrons had flooded him with talk. It wasn’t that he wasn’t grateful for them but he had a feeling and he wanted to follow up on it. 

Jun watched Jihoon carefully, managing to step in front of him before he reached the corner that would lead to the dressing rooms and bathrooms. His voice boisterous and cheerful as he leaned to pat his boss on the arm with a huge grin on his face. “The place is packed tonight Jihoon. What are you doing back here? You had people falling on their faces for a look at you.” 

Furrowing his brows Jihoon looked up at the piano player who was speaking far too loud for such a confined space. Junhui was a bit odd but this was strange even for him. “I’m doing something. What are you doin’? Nothing? Shouldn’t you be going back up on the piano soon?” 

He was right, Jun had taken his break so he was expected to be back on stage and getting people on their feet dancing. “Ah, yeah. I’ll head back out there. You know me boss. I’m just taking my time. So many people were up during it, I’m giving their dogs a chance to rest. Don’t need ‘em barkin while Seokmin is trying to sing, if you know what I’m saying.” 

You and Seokmin had already caught on to what Jun was doing for you two. He was one of the few people who knew about your relationship and also one who would help you hide it from Jihoon. With one final kiss that lingers longer than it should, you slip out the door and towards the bathroom as Jihoon groans at Jun’s words. 

“I get it. Have you seen my sister?” Jun swallows hard at the direct question, his elbow leaning awkwardly against the wall to block Jihoon when you open the door, slipping out only to open the bathroom door causing your brother to raise a brow. 

“Nah…why? She ain’t out there?” Raising his brow again, Jihoon scoffs, reaching up to pull Jun’s arm from the wall so he can push past him. It was all a little too suspicious at this point. You were up to something and this knucklehead knew more than he was saying. 

“No, obviously not so buzz off.” His shoulder hitting Jun on the way past him Jihoon starts to push open the dressing room causing Seokmin to take a sharp breath in when you open the bathroom door letting out a small sigh. 

“Jihoon?” His attention moving to you, hand dropping from the door, your brother scoffs glancing around before considering seeing who was in the dressing room again when you speak up. “What are you doing, following me?” 

“Question is, Y/N, what’re you doin?” 

You gesture back to the bathroom as if it should answer his question. Jihoon’s eyes look over your outfit then up to your face to your lips seeing your lipstick slightly smeared. “Yeah, sure and I’m a chump. If I’ve told you once, I've told you a hundred times not to be fooling around with these guys.” 

Narrowing your eyes, you push past your brother in a similar fashion he had pushed past Jun, only for Jihoon to put his hand around your arm pulling you back gently. “Y/N…I say it cause I care about you. I want you taken care of when you find someone to settle down with. Especially depending on who you were locking lips with…you ain’t gonna find that here.” 

Seokmin could hear the conversation moving away from the dressing room. His heart in his throat, he knew that Jihoon wasn’t wrong. He couldn't give you the life that you were already living, much less something better. All he could give you was what he had and his heart, and that you already had. 

Jihoon had walked you back to your seat, his hand moving from your arm so you could sit down. Gesturing to Joshua then your glass he got a nod knowing your drink would be refilled quickly. “Ya mad at me?” 

Your fingers ran over the stem of the flower in front of you as you shook your head no. Your heart is telling you something much different. You wanted to be upset with your brother but you knew he was trying to look out for you. You just wished he could see the same potential in Seokmin that you did. If he only knew it was Seokmin you were seeing and not just one of the randoms he had coming in for a week only to leave a couple of days later after making a couple of bucks. 

“No, Hoon…I’m not mad. Just wanna drink alone for a bit.” That told Jihoon all he needed to know. Leaning down he places a kiss to the top of your head and mutters a short ‘alright’ before he is taking his spot back near the bar, his watchful eyes never leaving you. 

Seokmin was trying to put away the overhead conversation from the club. You were standing in front of him in his apartment, no interruptions, no need to worry about anyone sticking their noses where they didn’t belong. It was just you and him. 

You smile when Seokmin moves behind you, his nose brushing against your neck next to your ear. A soft sound of pleasure slipping from his lips when he takes in a breath of you. You smelled sweet, a bit like apples and cinnamon. It was such a nice break from all that scent of booze and smoke earlier in the night. 

Your fingers slide over Seokmin’s forearm when he pushes his fingers along your lower stomach to pull you back against him. You could feel he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. Leaning your head back on his shoulder, you tilt your head to the side and just like you had hoped, Seokmin’s lips brush over yours gently. 

“Everything about you is too good for me. You know that?” Seokmin was finding it hard not to let his mind wander even with you in his arms, even with your lips so sweetly pressing against his own. When your nails gently scratch over his skin, Seokmin sighs against your kiss, his brows furrowing deep in thought. 

Turning in his arms, you drape your own around Seokmin’s neck looking up at him with curious eyes. “Why do you get to say so?” He couldn’t help but to let out a short, quiet laugh at your words. You were so headstrong, your entire family was like that. He had seen it with Jihoon and clearly when you wanted something you were going to get it. 

“I’m just sayin’, doll. I can only give you my heart…my voice, you know what I make.” His fingers slide along the back of your dress, undoing the buttons of your garment slowly. Each brush of his fingers caused you to take in a breath to steady yourself though you wanted to argue with his words. 

“I can’t buy a nicer place than this…you see what I got. This is probably all I ever have.” Lifting his hands, Seokmin runs the back of his fingers along your throat before dropping them to your shoulders to push your dress down your arms as he speaks. “I can’t give you the life you are living, much less a better one. I can’t put ice and marbles around your neck, as much as I’d like to.” 

The weight of your dress causes it to pool around your feet leaving you in your undergarments in front of a fully clothed Seokmin. He had only bothered to take off his suit jacket and shoes once the two of you had gotten to his place, but even as you stood in front of him feeling so bare you never felt uncomfortable. 

“If you think I care about all that mess, maybe you don’t know me as well as I thought you did Lee Seokmin.” Your words cause the man in front of you to scoff into a smile, one that pulls at his eyes and draws his cheeks a bit higher on his face. Moving your hands back up you start to undo Seokmin’s belt only for him to put his hands over yours and for him to walk you backwards towards his bed. 

Feeling the mattress behind your knees, you sit. your eyes lift to meet his loving gaze as Seokmin reaches one of his hands up to brush over your cheek, thumb tracing your lips slowly. “I know you, just like you know me. I was just saying what’s on my mind.” 

You knew why it was on his mind, mentally cursing your brother and his big mouth while also trying to just enjoy the fact that you were alone with Seokmin. In this apartment you usually didn’t have to worry about your family, about who you were, nothing but Seokmin. 

Moving his hand from yours to his pants, Seokmin lets you finish what you had started, his Adam’s apple moving dramatically as he swallows hard watching you closely. “And I’m just sayin’...why don’t you just make love to me and stop fussing over a bunch of bunk?” 

How could Seokmin say no to that? A grin forms on his lips, his pants falling to the floor at his feet. Seokmin takes another breath lifting his own hands to his shirt to make quick work of it while his eyes follow you moving back on to his bed. 

You were like a dream, some painting that had become real and Seokmin had to shake his head to keep himself moving. “Jesus, you make it hard not to just lose my mind. Ya know that?” Seokmin watches you smile, that pretty grin that drives him mad. You had a pull on him like no other person had in his entire life. 

Dropping his underwear to the floor, Seokmin puts one knee on the bed, reaching a hand out to run it over your leg. His nails scratch lightly over your thigh-highs causing you to bite at your lip until he reaches the end of your chemise. 

His fingers scratch back down your leg to unsnap the top of your stockings from the garter keeping them attached to your chemise. Seokmin’s eyes never leave yours, a warm look of intensity trapped behind them as you feel his fingers run over your leg where your stocking once was. 

“Unwrapping you might be my favorite part of the day…” Your cheeks burn at Seokmin’s words, he was bold with you in this room once the two of you felt comfortable. You enjoyed this side of him, how he would lean to kiss your thigh while his hands worked your other stocking from your leg only for him to move his lips to your now bare leg. 

“I just think you like teasing me Seokmin.” He smiles against your skin, his fingers running back up to your hips where he runs over the silk of your chemise on the way up to your shoulders to pull down the straps almost desperately. “Oh, God…careful. Don’t rip it, baby.” 

You say those words but Seokmin wonders if you mean it. He didn’t know how much your undergarments cost but though he had just said he didn’t have money to spare, he’d figure out a way to buy you more if it meant he could tear them off of you the way he wanted to. “Mm I’m not.” His lips brush over the top of your breast, his hands working the silk down your body as you arch your back then lift your hips allowing him to remove it from you completely. 

When Seokmin drops the final piece of clothing onto the floor he lets his eyes wander over your naked form. From your legs to your face, back down to your breasts, and finally between your legs. “Prettiest dame in the entire city…” 

Your eyes narrow, lifting your leg you push your foot against Seokmin’s chest. A laugh rises in his throat, his hands move to run over your calf to your ankle and back down as he stands in front of you, his cock standing hard and at attention for you. He only breaks eye contact with you long enough to lean and take a single rose from out of a vase next to his bed causing you to lift your brow and bite at your lip. 

“You do this almost every time.” 

“And every time…you like it.” You couldn’t argue with Seokmin when you feel the soft petals brush over your skin when he lightly drags the flower against your inner thigh up to your knee. A quiet moan falls from your lips, your hips lifting towards Seokmin and the flower only for him to pull it away running the rose along your shin, a smirk on his lips. 

“And you thought I didn’t know you. You got some moxie sayin that…” There was amusement in Seokmin’s voice that seemed to trail out into something more sensual when he heard you moan once again. Your own fingers were pressed against your breasts, Seokmin couldn’t take his eyes off of them even as he teased you with the flower letting it brush over your folds only to be taken away. 

You wanted him, you wanted more than the rose. As much as you loved the rose and his teasing you wanted him even more. “Seokmin…please. I love you baby, make love to me like I said.” 

That was his favorite thing to hear you say, that you loved him. It meant more than anything in the world to Seokmin. No amount of money could match the feeling of those words. The rose falls to the bed beside your head and Seokmin lays between your thighs, his lips finally finding yours once again. “Tell me again, just one more time, doll.”

You try to speak but Seokmin’s hand runs along your outer thigh to your knee, his cock brushing against your needy pussy causing you to moan his name instead. “Babe, you sound like a dream come true. Say it again…” 

Moving his hands between your legs, Seokmin slides his fingers between your folds relishing in how wet you were for him. The desperate whimpers falling off your lips were like the best song he had ever heard. Wrapping his hand around his length, Seokmin presses his tip against you and breathes softly against your lips muttering out a soft ‘please’ waiting for you to speak. 

“I love you Seokmin. I love you so much.” As soon as words leave your lips Seokmin slowly pushes into you, taking your breath away. A groan escapes his lips, feeling you clench around him instantly as he works kisses from your lips to your ear where he mutters “I love you too, more than anything in this life” against it. 

He was yours and you were his. That was all that mattered to either of you. At that moment no one’s approval was needed. If he had asked you to run away with him and elope you would have without question. 

Seokmin’s mouth pressed to your jaw, his hand sliding along the other side of your neck up into your hair. His fingers tugging some of the pins loose, letting it fall into his grasp. Seokmin smiled against your skin, his cock buried so deeply inside of you when you let out a low moan of his name feeling overwhelmed. 

Between your soft walls clenching around him, and the drag of his nails against the back of your scalp as he tugged at your hair, Seokmin was overloading your senses. He knew how to make you fall apart for him, every little button to push, every piece of skin to kiss in order to make you his all over again. 

Your nails scratch across his shoulder and Seokmin groans into the crook of your neck. His warm lips pause in their search for more skin so that he can whisper your name. The feeling of his own climax building causing his brows to furrow when he lifts his head to meet your eyes full of love and need. 

Leaning back, Seokmin wraps his arm around your waist pulling you up into his lap. The way he is reaching you so deeply now causes a breathy whine to slip from your lips before Seokmin claims them with his own muttering against them. “You’re my heart and my life, ya know that, doll?” 

Smiling on his lips, your arms wrapping around his neck, you roll down over Seokmin as he thrusts up into you granting yourself a deep groan from his chest. You were seeing stars, your orgasm so close you felt like you were going to burst. “You’re mine, Lee Seokmin.” 

The words seem to push Seokmin over the edge, his brows knitting together as if your words were the most profound speech he had ever heard. His thumbs press against your hips, fingers splay out along your lower back when Seokmin holds you in place before rolling over to his back letting you sit over him. 

He could feel the rose under his back, many flowers had met their end like this. Their petals soon covered the sheet under your bodies but neither of you seemed to care. You were too lost in one another to worry about the bed of roses you had always seemed to create. 

Seokmin’s head falls back, his throat exposed to you while your hands slide along his chest up to his shoulders. Your knees planted on the bed next to his hips you use what strength you have along with his hands lifting you to push yourself over the edge. 

You gasp out Seokmin’s name when your thighs begin to shake, your walls clenched tightly around him as you cum. His head lifts to the sounds of your pretty moans, Seokmin’s eyes never leave you, his hands holding you secure even as his hips meet yours hard and fast. “Oh, baby…so damn pretty. Shit…shit.” 

The words become breathy groans, your eyes open to fall on him getting your turn to watch him fall apart for you. There weren’t many things in the world as beautiful to you as watching Seokmin experience bliss.

His hands hold your hips to the point it's almost painful but you know he would kiss each mark later. Seokmin’s eyes close tightly, a smile forms on his parted lips before his hips stutter hard against yours and you feel his warm release begin to fill you. The feeling is almost enough to send you back over the edge to follow him again causing you to clench and for Seokmin to groan your name. 

“You’re gonna kill me…” Falling onto his chest and into his arms, you relish in the feeling of his long fingers running along your back up to your neck only to continue that path for several minutes. Neither of you are in any rush to move from one another even as he softens completely inside of you, the mixture of his and your cum dripping from you onto his thighs. 

“I’ll just kiss you back to life.” Seokmin laughs against your hair, his breath warm causing a shiver to run through you. You finally whine when he moves your leg and then his sliding from you causing you to feel empty. 

If he could be inside you for the rest of his life he would. He wished that those fancy scientists could figure that one out. Stop wasting their time on other bullshit and figure out the important things like how he could never have to be separated from you and out of this bed. 

“Don’t whine, doll. Gotta get cleaned up and get some food in you. You’ll fall asleep and wake up be sore at me if I don’t. Can’t stand when you are anything but happy.” Seokmin leans back to look at your face, running his finger along the bridge of your nose, a smile crossing his face when you can’t help but to smile at the gesture and his words. 

“Mm, fine but I want a Jack Rose.” You roll from Seokmin letting him slip from the bed, your eyes following him before they fall to the petals now covering the bed. A smirk forming on your lips you gather a few of them rubbing them between your fingers glancing back up to your boyfriend to find him watching you. 

You were a minx and a handful but Seokmin couldn’t help but know that he wanted you for the rest of his life. Watching you play with those rose petals melted Seokmin and made him want to fuck you all over again. Shaking his head, Seokmin grins, lifting his hand to rub the back of his neck at your request as his cock ached slightly just at the sight of you. “One Jack Rose for the dame comin’ right up.” 

Seokmin could never sleep very late into the day. It didn’t matter how long his nights were, even if they were longer with you. He had to have a little daylight in his life. Sitting on his small balcony, the doors open to let in the breeze and so that he could watch you sleeping, Seokmin let the cigarette rest between his fingers as he let the smoke out of his lungs on a slow breath. 

It was a beautiful evening, the sun was even with the horizon but as much as Seokmin wanted to admire that he couldn’t help but sneak peeks of you in his bed. You had started to stir, your fingers reaching out for him like you had so many times when you woke up at his apartment. He watched a frown form on your lips and felt bad instantly, but instead of going to you he decided to watch you for a bit longer, bringing his cigarette back to his lips. 

You knew Seokmin couldn’t be far, your frown didn’t last long when you realized where you were. Arching your back you smile, the sheet sliding down your body to your stomach, a happy sigh escaping your lips as you look around for any sign of him instead landing on the vase of roses. 

Wrapping the sheet around your chest you reach up to take one from its place. Bringing it to your nose takes in the sweet scent that makes you think of Seokmin and how much you love him. Seokmin leans on his elbow watching you run the rose along your shoulder and down your arm much like he had many times before. 

Swallowing hard, he brings the cigarette to his lips one last time to take a draw from it before tossing it away letting the smoke slip from his lips. Your lips were caught between your teeth, your face so bright, cheeks full. You looked so happy. Seokmin’s heart was pounding so hard as he thought to himself that ‘this is what love songs look like.’

Glancing up hearing the floor squeak, you can’t help but to smile seeing Seokmin standing in the balcony doorway, the curtains blowing in the wind, his hand in his pocket. He was still shirtless, pants unbuttoned, his hair only tamed by his fingers. Dropping the rose, you extend your hand for him and he wastes no time taking it, leaning down to press his lips to yours tenderly. 

Both of you knew you wouldn’t have long. Not as long as either of you would prefer before he would have to go to the club, but that wouldn’t stop you from melting into his kiss. That wouldn’t stop Seokmin’s hands from sliding into your hair holding you to him desperately as if you would fly away from him like a bird.

Smiling on his lips, you finally do pull away shaking your head when you hear him sigh. “I love you so much.” You feel his lips pull up, a small kiss brushing against your cheek as Seokmin nods, his hand sliding along the sheet to pull it open. He wanted to touch your skin and you weren’t going to deny him. 

“I love you too. Never wanna leave this bed, doll. Wanna be your husband.” He had said things like that before but it had been in moments of weakness and passion. Both of you had laughed it off knowing you would probably only ever be this. 

“Ask me then.” 

Seokmin’s lips were on your neck, his hand holding your side, his thumb gliding along your soft skin just under your breast when you spoke causing him to freeze. He had to have heard you wrong. Almost afraid to look up, Seokmin kisses your neck again before finally lifting his eyes to yours nervously. “What’d ya say?”

Your fingers rake through his hair, a smile on your lips though you were clearly nervous. “I said to ask me. You wanna be my husband, you gotta ask.” You weren’t the only one he’d have to ask or deal with when it came to this but god if he didn’t want this. 

“I–Y/N? Ya serious?” Seokmin watches you nod, no signs of this being a joke on your face. “What about Jihoon? You know I gotta ask him too. You heard him yesterday, no one in that club…me included is good enough for you. I don’t much disagree with him, you know what I said yesterday. As much as I love you, doll…I can’t give you anymore than what I got.” 

Your fingers tighten in Seokmin’s hair making him sigh out a slow breath. His eyes locked with yours. “I didn’t ask for excuses of why you don’t wanna marry me, Lee Seokmin. So if that’s all you’re gonna give me–” 

Seokmin doesn’t let you finish your sentence, panic rips through him at the idea of you denying him because of his own fear. His lips press to yours, his brow furrowed tightly, you feel how his hand clings at your skin as he mutters against your lips. “God no, I’m sorry. Marry me? Will ya? I’ll figure it out. I’ll rebuild the damn world to make it better if I gotta…just want you to marry me.” 

Your small laugh followed by a gentle kiss to his lips allows Seokmin to calm down. His heart is still beating so hard you can feel it against your body. Lifting your leg, you run your thigh along his hip, a smile on your lips as you nod leaning your head back so you can look at him once again. “You ain’t gotta rebuild nothin’. I love the man I got, just give me that and you got me. ‘Course I’ll marry you.” 

You knew he was right, soon he would have to talk to Jihoon, you both would. He would be furious, not only at Seokmin but mostly with you. Family didn’t lie, at least your family but you had been keeping a lot from him for a very long time, but that could wait. 

Seokmin sighs happily, his head lowering to rest against your breasts. You smile to the feeling of his warm breath against your skin as you close your eyes allowing yourself to push away any thoughts of Jihoon for now. That was a problem for later, this was now and you had your future husband in your arms. 

“I’m just sayin’ I gotta figure out a ring. Something that will look good enough to be on your finger.” 

You can’t help but smile, Seokmin lifting your hand to his lips to press them to the back of your knuckles. His eyes pull slightly at the corners when he meets your gaze, finding you giving him ‘that look’. 

“Somethin’ we can worry about later, babe. I got plenty of rings for now, ‘sides…we still gotta talk to Hoon.” Seokmin sighs beginning to speak, his head nodding as the two of you stand in his dressing room when the door closes causing you both to jump. 

“Yeah, you should’a talked to Hoon a while ago, it seems.” Seokmin’s eyes close to the sound of Jihoon’s voice. There was no way to know how long he had been outside of the door but that didn’t seem to matter anymore. 

Letting go of your hand, Seokmin clears his throat slowly turning to face your brother. “Jihoon, I –” He is cut short by Jihoon’s knuckles meeting his jaw with a loud crack causing you to let out a gasp. 

Seokmin’s first instinct was to fight back, his arms lifting to push Jihoon back, his own fist pulled back ready to make contact with someone he considered not only his boss but his friend. Tears were already on your cheeks as you pushed between them watching Seokmin lower his fist on his own accord. 

“I’m not going to fight you, damn it Jihoon!” Lifting his hand, Seokmin rubs his jaw wincing at the pain that radiates into his neck, turning away from both of you to curse under his breath before speaking louder. “I love her, and I ain’t sorry ‘bout that. So, if that means you gotta throw your fists at me some more, so be it. I’ll take it, I know I went about this all wrong.” 

You weren’t sure who to even give your attention to but when Seokmin groaned in pain, his hand moving over his jaw you couldn’t help but to move to him sliding his hand out of the way so you could look at his face. The skin was already red and you could tell there was some swelling, your brother had always been strong and wasn’t afraid to use his fists when it was needed. Glancing over to him, you watched Jihoon stand stoic, his eyes never leaving you or Seokmin even as your fingers tenderly tried to soothe the man. 

“I should have told you. I know that, alright? You didn’t have to punch him.” Jihoon doesn’t speak, instead he continues to watch as your attention is drawn back to the man in front of you. He watches how you look at him, how Seokmin’s fingers hold your wrist so carefully for a man so much bigger than you. He can see how much you two care about each other but that still didn’t make this okay. 

“Yeah I did. You know I did, and you should’a. We talked about this, Y/N…you know how I feel.” You start to speak but Jihoon lifts his hand moving closer to you and Seokmin, his eyes narrowed. “I think I get the chance to talk a bit, don’t you? I got a lotta catchin’ up to do.” 

Your cheeks were burning, you were angry and embarrassed but you knew he was right. You had hid so much from him. You owed him the chance to speak. Nodding you simply lean against Seokmin, his hand in yours while he also pays close attention to Jihoon trying to to piss him off anymore than he already has. 

“This thing, I dunno how long it’s been goin’ on, but if I had’ta guess it’s been a while.” Scoffing, Jihoon reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose, the memories of all the times in the past year he had caught you in different scenarios beginning to make complete sense. “All under my damn nose. Maybe I’m the chump, huh?” 

You knew that was rhetorical but you still shrug making Jihoon suck in a breath and reach out his hand to push his index finger into the middle of your forehead playfully. “Don’t push it. You really love this sap?” 

Jihoon watches a smile spread across your lips that even he can’t help but to feel a bit warmer because of. Your eyes lifting to meet Seokmin’s gaze, who presses his lips together trying to hide his own smile. “Yeah, I love him. I wanna marry him, Hoon. He’s mine…don’t want him with nobody else.” 

Wrinkling his nose, Jihoon didn’t know if he liked the sound of all of that. You were better than this, all of this, but of course you had fallen right into the lap of this world. “And you always get what you want, kid.” Sighing loudly, Jihoon looks at Seokmin before narrowing his eyes almost angrily, his hands lifting expectedly. 

Seokmin glanced at you a bit confused before Jihoon sighed, reaching to smack the man’s head as if to knock some sense into him. “You gonna at least ask? Or I could just knock your head off, your choice Seokmin.” 

You couldn’t help but be slightly amused, your brother using similar words that you had when you had brought up Seokmin asking you to marry you earlier in the day. A pained laugh leaves Seokmin’s mouth lifting his head, his mouth opening and closing to stretch his swollen jaw. Nodding he finally meets Jihoon’s eyes, “Yeah, I’mma ask. I really wanna marry your sister, can I please get your blessing to go ahead with that? ‘Cause I may not have much Jihoon but I still plan on making her a very happy woman.” 

Jihoon could see you were already happy, and to him that was already a pretty big step. He had half a mind to say no, to put you both in your place but watching the way you looked at him with your big puppy dog eyes even he had to melt, an annoyed sigh slipping out of his mouth. “You got my blessing. Don’t keep things from me ever again.” 

Moving from Seokmin you cause your brother to groan out another annoyed sound when you wrap your arms around him hugging him tightly. Only Seokmin sees the smile pull at the other man’s lips when he puts an arm around you holding you closely. “Yeah, yeah. Like I said, you always get what you want, kid.” 

Seokmin grins at the scene leaning his head back against the wall, a wave of relief falling over him when you finally move away from Jihoon and back to him, sitting on his leg. He shakes his head feeling a bit shy knowing your brother is still in the room as your lips brush against yours but he doesn’t pull from the kiss, instead he laughs against your lips hearing Jihoon groan once more then the sound of the door shutting. 

“Told you that you were mine, Lee Seokmin.” 

You smirk on his lips, Seokmin’s fingers pushing against your side as he holds you to him. “That you did, and you’re mine, doll.” 

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#dk smut #seventeen smut #svthub #caratwritersclub #seokmin smut #dokyeom smut #svt smut #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #dk angst #dk fluff #seokmin angst #seokmin fluff #sax settlements and speakeasies #seokmin x reader #seventeen x reader

[sincerely-sofie]

HEY GUYS: The Present is a Gift’s first draft is now 100% DONE!

Everybody give a round of applause!

The manuscript currently sits at 59,000+ words, well over 200 pages, and will now enter a two-week-ish long rest period! After the two weeks are up (which will be on January 1st, 2024), I’ll start the process of editing the fic from start to finish as well as working on illustrating the first batch of chapters. I’ll continue posting PMD content, so this won’t change too much for any of you, but I wanted to give an update on the fic’s status!

Thanks to everyone who expressed excitement or support for this project. Without you, I couldn’t have done this! TPiaG is the first project I’ve ever finished a full manuscript for, so this is huge for me. Thank you!

#stuff by sofie #sofie checks in #the present is a gift au #pokémon mystery dungeon #pmd #pmd sky #pmd explorers #pmd eos #pmd2 #pmd au #pmd fic #pmd fanfic #pokemon mystery dungeon

[miyhhowrites]

can i request an akito fic where reader is a new member and quite shy so she dosent interact much? so akito would think they’re useless ? but they actually have a really soft voice and cute personality >.<

꧁“𝐍𝐞𝐰𝐛𝐢𝐞”꧂

Akito shinonome x shy!gn! Reader

✮A/N: HIHI so sorry i took long to finish your request😭 im very inactive on all my platforms cause im focusing on my life rn and exams are coming up, nevertheless hope you enjoy<33

✮Synopsis: you, a shy new member, impress akito with the song you made!

✮Contains: slight ooc?, Not proofread,akito here is slightly judgmental?

Akito wasnt... That fond of you,not that he hated you or anything, he wasnt.. used to you, you could tell, when he made music, he'd give you the most simplest lines, or the shortest.. not that youre complaining, you just wanted more!

nevertheless, the group would still care and try to make you feel at home, they would call you by your first name or a nickname, tell some jokes, tease you, and anything as long as you feel happy around them

all changed until you decided to make music, all on your own, ofcourse with the help of friends but it was mostly you! And after weeks of making, you wanted to let the group have a listen!

the group was astonished when they heard the beat.. it was strong and intense, they were surprised when you were the one making the beats and tunes, you were so shy that its unlikely of someone to make music as intense as this

"y-you made this..? Oh wow! I wouldnt have expected that you could make songs like this.." Kohane smiled, An happily listened, while Toya and akito listened close

"This could work for this new gig... I remember Kotaro saying that the people who were attending had hardcore-ish vibes.. not that i know what he meant" Toya spoke up, an and kohane nodded in agreement. "This sounds.. pleasant.. right, lets use this.." he says, now looking at you.

weeks passed and you were finally able to make the lyrics with the help of Kohane, now was to split the lyrics

"hm.. y/n, can you try singing this part? Im confused if you or Kohane should sing this.." an asked, looking awkward.. "oh, nono, y/n can take this part.. they made the music, ofcourse they should have more lines" she says playfully, making you giggle

"hm.. okay" An nodded, now looking at you, she gave you a small nod, indicating that you could start singing... Honestly, the way an and akito practices feels like having to audition to be in an idol band..

you cleared your throat and started singing, that when Akito finally took you seriously, he puts his things down and listened.. you voice was.. adorable.. soothing..nice? He couldnt tell, after all, your voice is amazing and that he had a hard time describing it, once you were finished, all of them gave you a big round of applause, including akito, which made you feel.. fuzzy after all, it wasnt always that he'd cheer for you.

Once the sun was setting, the environment got darker, kohane left first, then toya, then an, it was just you and akito both..

Before you could keave, akito stopped you, grabbing you lightly by the shoulder. "Hey.. uh.. just wanted to say that.. your voice sounds nice.. please, keep up the good work y/n" he gave you a genuine smile, you nodded to reply "o-ofcourse.! I'll keep practicing til i physically cant!" You blurted out "oh? Haha, please dont.." he replied, sounding concerened, but quickly hiding it. "Wanna walk home with me? My House isnt that far from here" he asked you nodded and followed him through the exit. "Sure, i'd love too..!"

#project sekai #pjsk x reader #x reader #project sekai x reader #pjsk #vbs #akito shinonome #akito shinonome x reader #vbs akito

[soft-girl-musings]

Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps - CHAPTER 2 (I've Got You Under My Skin)

Noir!Jake Lockley x WOC Lounge Singer!Reader

written in collaboration with + header by @mrs-lockley

chapter 1 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5

cross-posted to ao3

tags: late 1940s Noir AU, Reader is WOC coded but with no physical description besides being slightly taller than Jake while wearing heels, no use of Y/N

wc: 2,326

fic summary: Of all the gin joints in all the world, Jake Lockley walks into yours. Unfortunately for him, it's not quite the start of a beautiful friendship.

chapter summary: another night, another guest.

----------

The Paper Moon is open to all walks of life– every culture, creed, and color is welcome through the doors of your lounge. This is usually a happy truth, but these days you’ve been harboring a clockwork headache when that cab driver stops by.

He gives you the base courtesy of sticking to a schedule: around 7pm on Tuesdays and Thursdays, Jake will waltz in on the heels of James Wesley and whatever company he has in tow. Every Tuesday and Thursday, Jake sits at the same back table while Mr. Wesley conducts his business. And every Tuesday and Thursday, you play nice as you check in on your patrons. Including the cabbie.

“Another stellar set, Ms. Songbird,” he lilts as you give a courtesy nod, brushing past his table in the hopes of keeping things brief.

“Thank you, Mr. Lockley.” Your voice is tense as you breeze by. Jake Lockley, you’d learned from the wait staff: the legal name for the thorn in your side.

In all honesty, you wouldn’t mind his presence as much if he didn’t insist on making it known every evening. You had learned to expect him in the crowd whenever you’d hear a high-pitched whistle ringing above the applause each night. The sound grates at your resolve and forces you to plaster on your stage-ready smile a bit longer every time you make your rounds.

“Hey Songbird,” he calls out after you. “Have a drink with me?”

“A drink at my own bar? How inspired.” You press your lips into a firm line, the rest of your face broadcasting your disinterest to no avail. Every week he asks; every week you say no.

“Suit yourself,” he sighs, always backing down but never taking his eyes off you. It’s one thing to be watched onstage; it’s another to feel his gaze on the ground level. You feel a bit of relief every time you see him walk out with his client, tipping his hat to you at the end of each evening. His smile remains undeterred, no matter how cold a shoulder you offer.

It’d be damn near charming if you trusted it.

----------

Today’s not the day to let your guard down, the unmarked letter in your hand reminds you as you pace around the backstage corridor. It’s the third of its kind you’ve received this month. You worry your lip between your teeth as you pour over its contents, even though you know them by heart.

“To whom it may concern….” “...property acquisition…” “...would be in your best interest…” “...other businesses under our care …”

“‘Our care,’ that’s rich,” you mutter. “Remind me to stop opening the mail during business hours…”

“Uh, okay?” Mauricio agrees hesitantly as he rounds the corner. “Was wondering where our ‘fifteen-minutes-to-curtain’ call was, but I see you've been busy.”

“Oh good golly, is that really the time?” You fumble to put the letter back in its envelope. “Haven't even finished my makeup…” you trail off as you head to your dressing room, your drummer right behind you.

When you open the door, you see a small bundle of flowers sitting on your side table. Oh for crying out loud.

“How many times do I have to–” you're muttering to yourself again as you take the flowers in hand, moving swiftly across the room.

"What are you doing?" Mauricio sputters.

"If that man thinks he can weasel into my good graces with a few pretty flowers-" you huff as you drop the bouquet in a wastebasket. "–he's going to be sorely disappointed."

"Those were– those were mine." Mauricio admits softly.

You freeze, turning to him. "Really?"

He scoops up the bouquet. "I wanted to surprise you. Guess I should've left a note," he chuckles.

"Oh, Maurie, thank you." You rush over to bring him into a hug. Sometimes he's too sweet for his own good.

".... This is from Mr. Lockley." Mauricio breaks away to hold out a single white rose he'd been hiding behind his back.

You sigh. "He's a persistent son of a gun, isn't he?"

He nods, dimpled smile growing by the second. “I think he's swell, miss. The boys think so, too.”

You turn the rose over in your hand. “I want you to be careful around him, Maurie. We don't know what he's about.”

“I think he's made it pretty clear,” he laughs.

“Hm. Perhaps.” You raise an eyebrow. "And I suppose you both brought flowers because...?"

Mauricio brims with excitement, taking the rose back and bundling it with the bouquet he'd gifted. "Mr. Lockley sounded real set on gettin’ you something sweet," he starts. He puts the flowers in an empty vase on your vanity.

"I didn't mean to steal his thunder, but I like it when you smile." He wipes his hands on the front of his pants and his expression drops a bit. "You haven't been smilin’ as much these days, Ms. Songbird."

You busy yourself with the fallen petals at your feet. “I smile all the time, what do you mean?”

“I guess I'm saying… there's you onstage, then there's, I dunno, you -you. They smile differently, s'all.”

He's right, as much as you hate to admit it. You look over at the flowers. “Well, thanks for giving me a reason to smile for real, Maurie.” You press a kiss to his forehead. “My mind's a bit out of sorts tonight. So thank you.”

The youth's dark brown eyes fill with concern. “Anything we can help you with?”

You shake your head, moving back to your vanity. “Nothing to worry yourself over, darling. Just make sure the boys are set. We have a show to put on.” 

He nods and leaves your dressing room. As you apply your lipstick, your hand trembles.

----------

Wednesdays have become your favorite part of the week: the day you catch your breath between visits.

In the time before the first half of your set, you make your usual rounds to each table.  Eventually you work your way to the front of the seating area, where you see a familiar silhouette beside the stage. A pair of dark glasses are perched on his nose, which crinkles as he smiles at the sound of your footsteps.

“Mr. Murdock,” you greet him warmly, taking his extended hand. “Always a pleasure.”

“Hey, kid.” He squeezes your hand in response, still beaming up at you. Even in the dimmed lounge, Matt Murdock’s smile can light up a room. 

“Come off it,” you huff in mock annoyance. “Thanks for stopping by on such short notice.”

“It sounded urgent, of course I’d be here. Do you have all the paperwork together?”

You eye the empty seat next to him. “I have a whole file waiting for you backstage… I’m sorry, is Franklin not joining you this evening?”

“Not tonight, but I do have another guest coming. Is that drink still on the house for a new plus-one?”

“Any friend of Nelson & Murdock is a friend of mine.” You brush a few stray hairs from his forehead. “Is this a guest for business or pleasure?”

He laughs, waving your hand away. “I suppose that depends.”

“Well, as long as they’re a fan of good music, they’re welcome here anytime,” you hum as you straighten his collar. “I swear, Matty. It wouldn’t kill you to dress to impress.”

“You dote too much. I’ll catch up with you later.” You leave him to his drink, making a mental note to demand his dress shirts for a routine tailoring.

The dinner rush brings the usual crowd, and you eye your friend’s table every so often. The seat beside him is still empty. You wonder if Matt was just pulling your leg and wanted to keep both complimentary drinks for himself.

But you don’t have time to ponder that. Instead, you scribble a few notes down and pass them out to your bandmates.

“Ah gee, boss, changing the setlist again?” Your pianist whines, scanning your notes. He didn’t ask tonight, but last-minute song requests are a longstanding favor to Matt when he has a lady to impress (which is often). For the sake of his mysterious guest, you swapped in some softer, more romantic pieces.

“Jackie, don’t tell me you’re not up to the task?” You eye him sternly. “Half the gig is improv anyway, and these are all songs we’ve done before.”

Jackie’s budding protest is silenced by the bassist via an elbow to the ribs. Arguing with you is never worth it: a lesson everyone learns sooner or later. Some take longer than others. 

Rubbing his side, Jackie concedes. “Whatever you say, boss.”

You wink. “That’s a tune I like to hear.” Smiling sweetly, you lead the band's procession to the stage.

“Good evening,” you croon into the microphone, “and welcome to The Paper Moon. I’m Ms. Songbird, this fine-feathered crew beside me are The Jays– let’s have some fun tonight.” You flash a rehearsed smile so dazzling it can be seen from the farthest table in the lounge, and you scan the room with anticipation. The moments before a performance are so precious; even with a setlist, anything can happen the moment that first note is played. Every night, you revel in the possibility. 

A familiar two-toned whistle draws your gaze to Matt’s table right below the stage, where the seat beside him is no longer empty.

Hat resting on the table, chin propped in his hands, you find yourself staring down at the face of none other than that infuriating cab driver bearing a grin so wide you hope it splits his cheeks.

Fighting to keep your smile from turning into a grimace, your eyes snap back to the middle of the room. “This first song goes out to one of our favorite patrons… and his company,” you add, your voice betraying your restraint with a crack. You don’t look down, but you just know that damned cabbie is smiling even harder.

Despite the rocky start, you and your band pull together another unforgettable night of music. You perform with your eyes closed more than usual; you refuse to give Jake Lockley the satisfaction of serenading him with your best love songs.

Once the music portion of the night is through, all the frustration you’d pushed down swiftly rises to the surface as you watch them pal around right under your nose. You rush to the floor level to get this over with.

“What are you doing here?” you blurt out, glancing between Jake and Matt. Your friend’s eyebrows raise at the outburst.

“Last I checked, this is a free country. I’m allowed into most businesses.”

“No, I mean– it’s not Thursday. You come on Thursdays.”

“Why Ms. Songbird, I didn’t think you cared enough to keep tabs on me.” He leans his head on his hand and stares up at you. “Sorry I didn’t call ahead.”

You want so badly to snap back at him, but instead you look at Matt. “ This is who I changed our set list for?”

“In my defense, I never asked you to,” he grins.

“You didn’t tell me you were so familiar with our lovely hostess here, Murdock. Seems you have more pull with the house than you let on,” Jake muses in surprise.

“A privilege he’s bound to lose if he's not careful,” you say through gritted teeth. Like it or not, Jake is a guest. And you still have an image to uphold. “How’d you have the pleasure of running into this one, Matthew?”

He barely has time to respond before Jake's leaning in farther, slinging an arm around his shoulders. “Oh, chin up, doll– can’t say I’m too surprised he’s a friend of yours. Always has a knack for finding the pretty ones, this guy.” He nudges Matt’s side, who’s far too quiet for your liking.

“I’m not sure what you’re implying,” you huff.

“‘Course, I keep him around for that brain of his, not so much the mug.”

“He's my lawyer,” you say in unison. What makes your brow furrows leads Jake to bark out a laugh, shaking Matt in his grip as he tugs him closer.

“What are the odds of that, eh Murdock?” He beams up at you. Your frown deepens. “He's helped me with the occasional run-in with the law.”

“Oh, so you're not just a smart-mouth but a criminal, to boot?” 

“Nothing but a few civil suits, doll. Got off clean every time.” He winks as you cross your arms, glaring at Matt.

“You have interesting taste in company, Mr. Murdock.” You turn on your heel and head backstage.

“No kidding,” Jake continues to laugh as you walk away. Once you're out of sight, his smile falters. “So when you said you had a friend in show business–”

“Yeah.”

“And when I told you about the dame I've been eyeing at this new lounge–”

“–I knew exactly who you were talking about.”

“So you've been letting me parade around like a putz this whole time? ” A smack upside the head earns Jake a kick to the shin beneath the table.

“That, my friend, was all you. I mean bravo, you were in rare form tonight.” That signature smile returns as Jake pushes a hand through his hair. “I should probably go smooth some feathers. Catch up with you in an hour?”

Jake downs the rest of his drink and stands when Matt does. “You know I love our little talks.” Casting a final glance towards the stage door, he adjusts his jacket and moves from the table.

Matt catches his elbow. “She’ll come around.” He almost sounds convinced of it himself.

“Yeah, well, we’ve got other fish to fry tonight. Promise I’ll save you the big ones.”

Shaking his head, Matt makes his way backstage. “I’m starting to think some of that vitriol isn’t unearned.”

They part ways– Matt heading backstage, Jake to the moonlit streets. 

Bigger fish to fry, indeed: all swimming in the Kingpin’s tank. 

----------

A/N: thank you to everyone who has expressed enthusiasm over this little passion project!! it's been so fun putting it together, and i'm looking forward to sharing more with you. expect to see more of our favorite lawyer in the future (we have fun here)

as always, thank you for reading &lt;3

tag list: @importantnightwerewolf, @cupidysm, @queerponcho, @nerdieforpedro, @fandxmslxt69, @shadystarlightgentlemen, @lunar-ghoulie, @casa-boiardi (lmk if you'd like to be added to/removed from this wee tag list)

#my works #moon knight #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight au #jake lockley #jake lockley fanfiction #noir!jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x fem!reader #jake lockley x woc!reader #jake lockley x poc!reader #jake lockley/reader #jake lockley/fem!reader #jake lockley/woc! reader #jake lockley/poc!reader #matt murdock

[wonijinjin]

THE WEEKND SERIES: EARNED IT - JEON WONWOO

author’s note: i have been seeing so many tiktoks about the ball season in vienna and as someone who had a ball herself i got so much nostalgia from them, this is how this fic was born.

synopsis: royalcore at its finest; a dance of waltz with a certain familiar masked stranger.

word count: 0.5k | genre: fluff, royalcore | pairing: wonwoo x f! reader | warnings: mentions of dresses, reader is referred to as ‘madam’

the masterpost of this series can be found here.

the night was perfect. a sky full of stars, big colorful gowns, fancy black tuxedos, a palace with the greatest and finest architecture, delicately decorated by the biggest artists, shining lights of the chandeliers unraveling the main event of the building; a masked ball.

“pardon me, my mistake.” says a tall stranger while looking at you through his black mask, tiny dark crystals on it around his eyes, making every gaze focus on it. you bow as the etiquette requires, lowering your head while holding onto your own disguise by one hand, carefully putting your weight back onto your heels. “i am deeply sorry sir i should’ve looked in front of me. these masks are exceptionally brilliant, but make me partially blind, even with contacts on.” the man chuckles, nodding with his head to express his agreement, then he speaks. “i myself have a bad vision, so i can understand.” his giggles die down, in their place a cheeky grin making its way onto his features. “can i have this dance?” now it is his time to bow, his awaiting hand lightly hanging in the air. you take it, and in that moment you swear you feel a spark light up as the touch of his hand makes your heart warm and fuzzy. the music starts once more, and he pulls your figure flush against his own, taking the lead in your moves as you let yourself relax in his hold. “you are a good dancer, sir.” you note while looking up at him, to which he offers a slight smile, his mouth curling upwards ever so slightly. “you are not bad yourself, madam.” he replies while changing posture, getting ready for the big finale as you can tell. “shall we give others a show then?” he winks behind the piece covering his face and you nod in agreement, eyes sparkling. he lifts you up just enough to make you twirl, showing off your dress which in his opinion is the most breathtaking he has ever laid eyes on. upon finishing the waltz you get a round of applause as he makes you turn in the center of the polished wooden dancefloor one more time. “you are perfect.” he breathes out. “this is perfect.” his hands fall upon your mask, thugging on it gently in order to reveal your face. you do the same to his, now looking at his features, analyzing every detail of his nose, his moles, the creases under his eyes as he grins at you.

“can i?” he asks shyly, face inches away from yours. “you earned it.” you reply quietly and he doesn’t hesitate for even a moment, going in to kiss you swiftly but oh so gently, the grip on the masks loosening, letting them go.

#wonijinjin #caratsland #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt imagines #seventeen #seventeen fluff #fluff #svt wonu #svt jeon wonwoo #seventeen wonu #svt wonwoo #seventeen jeon wonwoo #wonwoo x reader #seventeen wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #wonu #wonwoo #svt drabbles #seventeen drabbles #Spotify

[hawkins-losers]

CAMP UPSIDE DOWN (summer camp AU) PART 1 | Steve Harrington X Henderson!Reader x Eddie Munson

Summary: Since your childhood, attending Camp Upside Down has been the highlight of your summers. Now that you were too old to attend as camper, you decided to become a camp counselor. Though it meant dealing with annoying fellow counselors and tirelessly ensuring the kids applied sunscreen or didn't eat a berry their weren't supposed to, you found ways to heightened your summer camp experience and have the best time ever

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: 18+, p + v, oral, skinny dipping, threesome, semi-public sex,

Note: I really wanted to post before the end of summer, but I was not able to finish the entire fic...so here's the first few scenes. I will continue posting in the coming weeks and months, depending how long this will take. Please get on the taglist for this specific fic to get notified when I post!

—

The story started when it was hot and it was summer. Campers were running out of buses and screaming and jumping around the campground.

You had been at Camp Upside Down for only fifteen minutes and Steve's cock was already buried deep in you, pulling a mix of whimpers and moans from both of you. His hands were on your hips, holding you there while he was snapping his own against yours at a pace that had you gripping the edge of the shelf behind you and making the wooden table rattle. 

It was finally summer.

‘’Mmh, I missed that pussy,’’ Steve praised, grunting when you squeezed around him.

Your shirt was still on, which was a damn shame in Steve's opinion — he really wanted to see your tits —, but you didn't have a lot of time. As camp counselors, you had duties and soon enough, an annoyed Nancy would be looking for you and you'd rather not have her finding you both in that position. You didn’t want to cause unnecessary friction since she and Steve broke up last summer. 

Quickly enough, you both reached your climax, Steve spilling into the condom with small grunts and you clenching and creaming all over his perfect cock. 

‘’Did you bring enough condoms?’’ you asked as you pulled up your jeans shorts, the fabric snagging on your clammy skin from sex and the humidity. 

‘’Duh,’’ Steve replied, standing in front of the mirror and fixing his hair that got messed up during your activities. ‘’I almost had to pack a whole extra suitcase for them.’’ 

A laugh bubbled from your throat, his bad humor being part of his charm. ‘’Should we go greet the campers?’’ 

*

‘’Where the heck were you two?’’ Nancy snapped when you and Steve made it to the common ground area where all the campers and staff were. Her hands were on his hips, visibly unhappy. 

Steve was terrible at lying, so you opened your mouth to give her a bullshit excuse about your suitcase getting stuck in the mud and needing help to dig it out, but Nancy waved her hands in dismissal. 

‘’It doesn't matter. We've lost enough time already. Go with the others. I'll go tell Joyce everyone is here so we can begin making the groups.’’

Nancy was a sweet girl, but she was a little bit too pristine, a goody two shoes daughter. And quite bossy, which got on your nerves every summer. You couldn’t see what Steve found in her. 

A whistle blew and everyone's head turned to the small stage where Joyce was standing. She looked a little stressed, but still glowing, as always. Owning a summer camp and taking care of hundreds of children for a whole summer must be a lot of work.

‘’Campers, welcome to resident camp Upside Down!’’ Joyce greeted the lot, her warm demeanor immediately put the children at ease. ‘’I'm Joyce Byers, your camp owner and director, and I'm pleased to have you here for another amazing summer!’’ 

A chorus of cheers erupted from the waiting crowd along with a round of applause.  Joyce pursued, introducing each staff member and ending with the counselors. Most were familiar faces you had been working with for the last two years, but there were some new ones too. A guy in a flannel shirt and snapback named Luke was replacing the old cook and Joyce’s husband seemed to have joined the staff. Among the counselors, one of the new additions stood out to you. He had long curly hair and cut-off denim shorts that seemed to have seen better days. 

You saw the corner of his mouth twitching upward, catching you staring at him, and you quickly shifted your attention back to Joyce talking about the upcoming adventures and all the activities at Camp Upside Down.

Once Joyce was over with her speech, the campers were then divided into smaller groups. The group names lacked originality — all forest animal themed —, but you couldn't complain about yours. The squirrels weren't so bad compared to the wood-peckers.

You held back a squeal of excitement when Max’s name was announced to join your group, making up for having to share a cabin with Tammy Thompson. Although you didn’t share the same blood, you and her shared a sister bond. You couldn’t be more thrilled to spend an entire summer sharing a cabin. 

When it was all over, you guided the squirrels to their cabin. The air was heavy and stuffy due to the high humidity, but the place was soon filled with the sound of luggage being unpacked, the rustling of sleeping bags being unfurled, and the girls chatting.

‘’Alright ladies, let's hurry and unpack so we can get the hell out of here. By the way, for those who don't know, the name is Tammy. T-A-M-M-Y. If you have any questions or can’t tie your bathing suit, you can come to me at all time.’’ 

You held back your snicker as your co-counselor introduced herself, it's not like the kids don't know how to spell someone's name. 

Max had picked the bed closer to yours, growling at the other girl who tried to claim it. She wasn’t going to let the blonde with pink converses steal her spot. 

‘’How is it at home? Did you move out of California yet?’’ you as you unpacked.

The redhead nodded. ‘’Mom is still married to Neil — unfortunately. They got into a big fight a few weeks ago about Neil’s female colleague. I really thought their marriage was turning into ashes, but he got Mom diamonds and she wiped the slate clean.’’ Max shook her head sadly, disappointed in her mother. ‘’I really wish she would stop doing that. How can she keep forgiving a man who doesn’t deserve her forgiveness? I mean, diamonds are pretty, but Neil is still a shitty man.’’

She wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t so simple. 

According to Max, life was either black or white, but there’s so many nuances in-between. Maybe it’s her age that made her see life in a very different way, or maybe it was just her way of thinking. Her I-take-no-shit-from-anyone attitude had a play in this too. 

You took a pile of tee shirts and put them in the small drawers beside your bed. ‘’I agree with you on that. Diamonds are not worth being treated poorly by a man, but love makes us blind sometimes, makes us make stupid decisions…like forgiving someone who shouldn’t be forgiven.’’

Max sucked in a breath, her eyes casting on her anxiety-chewed fingers. ‘’Or maybe she isn’t strong enough to leave him.’’

*

When the sun started to go down, everyone gathered around the fire to mingle and eat dinner. Joyce’s husband, along with Jonathan, took charge of grilling hot dogs on the campfire fire...and grilled-cheeses for the picky-eaters who didn't like hot dogs. It was a camp Upside Down tradition. 

You helped some of the younger kids with their marshmallows, not wishing them to burn themselves and they thanked you with a bright smile and sticky fingers. 

Just as you were helping another group of campers, you felt a pair of arms wrap around you from behind, and the unmistakable scent of Steve's expensive cologne filled your space.

‘’Am I seeing you tonight?’’ Steve asked, his voice laced with anticipation.

A hint of amusement touched your voice as you turned around in his hold. ‘’Aren’t you satiated enough from this afternoon’s meeting?’’ 

‘’That was a quickie. I want more time with you. I missed you.’’ With a mischievous smile, Steve closed the distance between you, pulling you into a deep kiss. His hands on your waist ventured beneath your shirt to grab your tits. ‘’I swear they’ve grown a cup since last summer.’’ 

You swatted him away. ‘’Careful, Nancy might see us,’’ you warned, glancing around to make sure no one was watching.

‘’She won’t. I’m standing before you and it’s dark out,’’ Steve reassured, undeterred.

He leaned for another kiss, but before your lips could touch, Robin walked by with a pile of blankets for the kids. ‘’It's not just Nancy you two should worry about. I’m right here….and so are the kids. Keep the inappropriate language for after-hours. This is disgusting.’’ 

Steve rolled his eyes. ‘’You’re just jealous because you’re not getting any.’’ 

Instead of reacting to his sarcasm, Robin pushed the pile of blankets into his hands. ‘’Take this to the kids by the fire. Suzie and Will are cold.’’

*

A loud whistle blew across the lake’s beach, getting everyone’s attention. Standing in red shorts and calves-high socks, Steve went over security rules and explanations for kayaking. A lot of the kids had never kayaked, so it should be an interesting morning. 

After the safety jackets were on and all the kids were settled in their kayak, you got in yours and immediately went to one of the camper’s help who's kayak was not going forward. 

‘’You have to row the oar the other way, sweetie. Like this.’’

She nodded and did as you said, calling out a ‘thank you’ as she joined the group.

The tranquility of the lake was abruptly shattered by hurtful words echoing across the water.

‘’Eat shit and die, Toothless!’’ his voice rang out, instantly familiar as the nickname he had cruelly bestowed upon your brother due to his missing teeth.

Your head turned, seeking out the source of the taunt, and your eyes locked onto Troy as he confidently glided past Dustin in his kayak.

‘’Eat shit and live, Troy!’’ your brother fired back, eliciting laughter from some of the other campers.

Troy showed Dustin his fist in a menacing gesture, but Steve swiftly intervened, blowing his whistle. ‘’Hey! Cut it out, you two!’’ he admonished, his authoritative voice resonating with authority.

‘’He started it,’’ Dustin defended, but Steve raised his hand, silencing any further explanations.

‘’I don’t want to hear it. I don’t get paid enough to solve dumb conflicts. I’m here to guide and ensure your safety as you engage in camp activities. Now, get back to rowing!’’ 

Steve rowed away, but you made your way to Dustin, checking in on him.

‘’You okay, Dusty?’’ you asked, your voice laced with genuine concern.

He nodded. 

It wasn’t his first encounter with Troy. That boy had been bullying your brother and his friends for the past two years. You gave him a warning last summer, but it seemed like he forgot. 

‘’Is Troy in your cabin? I could talk to Joyce and have him removed if you want.’’

Dustin shook his head. ‘’No. He’s in Jonathan and Steve’s cabin. I’m with Eddie and Gareth.’’ 

‘’You tell me if he keeps bothering you, okay? Three strikes under his name and he’s out of camp.’’

He nodded again. 

The activity continued and you kept a watchful eye on your brother, making sure he was okay. Maybe you were acting too much like a mother duckling, but the incident with Troy had riled you up and you couldn't help but feel protective of him. You made a mental note to talk to Joyce later about the ongoing bullying issue. This couldn’t go on all summer again.

*

After leaving Joyce’s office, you walked back to your cabin. 

Turned out her younger son, Will, was also getting tormented by Troy. Unfortunately, she couldn’t send him home after only one day, but Joyce took notes of the incident on the lake and will be watching him closely in the next few days. She also made a joke about sending her husband to give Troy a more threatening warning. With his tall and large stature, Jim Hopper would surely make Troy pee his pants.

You took a left on the trail, fighting a few night mosquitos here and there, and saw a cloud of smoke coming from behind the bathrooms. 

Was something burning? No. The cloud of smoke was small. Like someone was smoking. 

Thinking one of the kids had snuck cigarettes on the campsite, you quickly made your way over to catch them in the act, but it wasn’t a kid who had a cigarette — well, a joint — between their lips, it was Eddie. You crossed your arms over your chest and raised an eyebrow at your fellow camp counselor.

‘’Weed — or any form of drugs — is strictly forbidden on the campsite,’’ you pointed out. ‘’The rule goes for kids and staff.’’ 

Eddie raised his gaze to you, taking the blunt from his lips and blowing the smoke toward you on purpose. ‘’Are you gonna snitch on me?’’ 

You swatted the smoke away, then shook your head. ‘’You’re mistaking me for Tammy.’’ 

‘’That’s the uptight brunette with the curls?’’

Shaking your head, you bit back a small laugh. ‘’No. That’s Nancy. Tammy is the blonde who sings like a Muppet and wears too much blue eyeshadow.’’ 

Eddie nodded, putting the right face to her name. There were so many people at camp, it’s hard to memorize everyone’s name and face the first few days. ‘’I’m Eddie. Eddie Munson.’’ 

‘’Y/N Henderson.’’

‘’Henderson? You got a brother here?’’ Eddie asked, the surname familiar.

You nodded, reaching for the blunt and taking a puff, taking Eddie by surprise. ‘’Yes. Dustin.’’ 

‘’He’s in my group. Cool little one.’’ 

‘’He has a little bit of an ego,’’ you said in truth. You loved your little brother to pieces, but that big brain of his made him so annoying sometimes. 

Eddie took the blunt back, taking a puff before handing it back to you. 

You regrettably declined. ‘’If I stay out any longer, Tammy is gonna throw a fit. Even worse if she smells the weed on me.’’ Tammy would not hesitate a second to tell Joyce about smelling weed on you. Last year you wouldn’t have cared, but you needed that money to get a car for college so you couldn’t jeopardize your job. ‘’I better get back to my squirrels. See you around, Eddie.’’

—

#eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x henderson!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x eddie munson x reader #stranger things

[infinite-orangepeel]

(kinda based on the last ask) okay but now i’m thinking about steve inviting eddie to his gym and he only agrees because steve working out while making those little whines and pants?? obviously he’s going, but nope he made a mistake because now he has to pretend to work out (gross) and be publicly flustered by steve…

recently turned this gym partner steddie ficlet into a fully fledged 6.5k ao3 fic. feel free to check out the added filth here <333 mwah and thank you again to anon for the prompt that inspired it !

read pt.2 here !

read pt. 3 here !

your mind !! giving you a round of applause for this one !

okay so steve shows up in the tiniest gym shorts he owns and a white crop top bc he gets really sweaty—which eddie quickly finds he’s extremely turned on by. and ofc steve’s kinda oblivious to the real reason why eddie asked him if they could workout together. so he just takes eddie around the gym and shows him how to use the cardio machines, free weights, bench press etc. not batting an eyelash at the obvious hard-on eddie’s now sporting beneath his own shorts bc he’s too distracted by trying to get a good workout in.

and the thing is, steve’s been a member at this gym for quite some time now and he’s well known around town (ex-jock/popular kid and what have you). so a bunch of his old teammates/acquaintances from high school stop by to chat with him as he leads eddie through their workout.

which only adds fuel to the fire—for a multitude of reasons—bc some of the guys are a little too handsy with steve as they make small talk. they’ll smack his ass, making it jiggle obscenely in those extra-small shorts, or they’ll reach over to teasingly twist one of his perky pink nipples through his fitted t-shirt. it’s all the stereotypical, jock-y, borderline homoerotic locker room, bullshit eddie used to pay witness to after gym class in school. the type of shit he used to roll his eyes at and ignore to the best of his ability.

but now, with steve harrington right in front of him, letting out all these breathy little moans and sighs as he exercises, getting fondled like a piece of meat by whoever can get their hands on him—eddie can’t quite ignore it. he quickly becomes a mixed bag of emotions, as steve reps out more bicep curls and socializes; jealous, confused, and unbearably horny.

bc god does steve look appetizing. he’s dripping sweat, smells deliciously musky, his veins are swollen from the exertion, his tits are all too visible through his dampened shirt, and the outline of his cock is readily on display in those shorts. the head of it almost peeking out from the hem every time he moves too quickly. and his ass looks so plump and round, eddie wants to sink his teeth into it asap.

but worst (best) of all are the sweet cries of effort he’s continually making. it’s a dangerous fucking game for eddie to be next to him right now. he can hardly take it, so he tries to palm himself just a little bit over the pants, as steve pushes his body to finish the set. he’s moaning so high in his throat to get the weight up the rest of the way and eddie knows if he just closed his eyes, he could easily imagine those pretty noises in a very different context. but if he allowed himself to do that, he’d also probably cum on the spot, so he grits his teeth and tries to avoid looking at steve for the time being.

and later on, when they go back to the locker room to get changed and shower off, eddie thinks he’s in the clear. he breathes a sigh of relief and can’t wait to get home so he can jerk off to the thought of steve’s gorgeous little sounds.

but when he goes to enter one of the gym shower stalls and starts to rinse off, he finds himself forcibly pressed up against the tile wall.

“y’know,” steve whispers hotly in his ear, licking the shell of it and nibbling on the lobe, “i’ve heard sex burns a decent amount of calories and since you were doing a lot more staring than lifting today, i’d say that might be a good way for you to make up for it.”

#unhinged and debauched steddie thoughts #hope you enjoy anon #steddie #the steddie brainrot is real #steddie brainrot #steve harrington headcanon #steddie headcanon #steddie au #steddie ficlet #steddie blurb #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #steddie things #eddie munson headcanon #steddie imagine #steddie nation #fruity four

[londonharrington]

long story short | eddie munson x fem!reader

y/n and eddie are about to start a new chapter in their lives.

notes: au where the st4 finale did not happen. i imagine that this takes place as the same timeline with my king of my heart fic. 

long story short it was a bad time, long story short i survived.

“Presenting the class of ‘86!”

Everybody in the crowd clapped as Principal Higgins started to announce the names of the graduates this year.

Y/N stood in line as she fiddled with the necklace Eddie gave to her. Of course, he was late to graduation, just like was late to every other class. She really thought that he would miss it, until she saw a mop of long, dark brown, curly hair, rushing towards the line where the graduates were as the teachers looked at him, with mixed emotions, they were either proud or relieved that he was already about the graduate. Y/N sighed out of relief as he waved his hand to catch her attention. She smiled at him as she shook her head.

“L/N, Y/N!”

A round of applause was heard as Y/N climbed up the stage as she shook hands with Principal Higgins and grabbed her diploma. She went down the stage as she made her way back to her seat.

Several names were mentioned before his name was called.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Principal Higgins murmured, completely forgetting that the microphone was turned on and everybody in the crowd could here him, “Munson, Edward!”

Eddie ran up to the stage with the biggest smile on his face, that did not falter even when everybody was shocked that he was actually graduating.

Y/N noticed that literally nobody was clapping so obviously, she had to do something. She stood up and started clapping really loudly, “Woo! That’s my boyfriend!” she shouted, still clapping loudly. Then, everybody started clapping as well, out of confusion.

Eddie looked at Y/N as he flashed her a huge smile and winked at her right after. He grabbed his diploma, just as he said few weeks back, he did flip the bird to Principal Higgins and ran the hell out of the stage, taking a seat to god know where. The principal was not even mad that he did this. He was just thankful that Eddie was already out of his hair.

♡ ♡ ♡

After the ceremony, Y/N rushed to her parents where they each gave her a hug and then gave her a bouquet of lilies. She was looking around the room when she saw Eddie along with his uncle and Dustin, talking with one another.

“Eddie!” she shouted to get his attention as she ran towards him. Eddie turn to her direction as he opened his arms wide for her. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he wrapped his around her waist.

“We did it, baby! ‘86!” he said as he started kissing her face. Y/N giggled as she finally let go.

“Come on! We need to take pictures with my parents!”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course! Your practically part of the family now, silly!”

Y/N grabbed his hands as they rushed back to her parents.

“Okay, one, two, three! Say cheese!”

The two posed for several pictures. Each one sillier than the previous one. Y/N noticed that Eddie started fidgeting a little. He looked at Y/N’s parents as they gave him a nod and a smile, like urging him to do something.

“Hey, Y/N? Can I speak with for a moment? Alone?”

“Yeah, let’s go,” she smiled as she grabbed his arm.

The two made it in the woods as Eddie started to become more nervous, as Y/N noticed, which caused her to become more nervous as well. Oh dear god, is he about to break up with me?, she thought, starting to feel sick in the stomach.

Eddie finally stopped walking and faced her. Eddie stared in to her eyes as he smiled before getting on one knee pulling out a ring.

“Look, listen. I know that we have talked about getting married and having kids someday. But I love you so much, and I-”

Y/N can’t even wait for him to finish his speech before screaming, “Yes!”

“I’m not yet done,” Eddie pouted as Y/N laughed slightly.

“I’m sorry, please continue,” she said, still laughing.

“I know we’re still really young but I would love to start the life we planned right now. All I’m trying to say is will you marry me, please?”

This was completely different from the Eddie she was used to. He was always so confident and full of himself. But nonetheless, she still loved him with all her heart.

“Yes! Yes, of course!”

Eddie stood up and placed the ring on Y/N’s finger as he pulled her in for a kiss.

Suddenly, a flash startled both of them as they pulled apart, looking at the source of said flash. It was Dustin who took the picture.

“Finally! God he wanted to ask you that since prom! We had to stop so many times!”

She laughed as she leaned in his chest, “Whether you proposed on prom or in ten years, I will always say yes to you, Mr Munson,” Y/N said laughing.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Mrs. Munson,” Eddie replied, winking at her as he grabbed her hand and led her towards her parents who were waiting for them.

Everything’s finally falling into place for the two of them as they headed towards the future that they both wanted.

♡ ♡ ♡

A/N: this is what Eddie deserved. consider this as my formal apology for happiness :))

taglist in the reblog

add yourself to my taglist

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn x reader

[definedbydaylight]

“It’ll Be The Last Time” - Matty Healy x F!Reader

Part 3

Masterlist: .°˖✧ Word Count: 2341 Warnings: angst, angst, and more angst, this whole series will have so much angst, also alcohol, smoking, drug use/mentions and a little smut as a treat xx also if you think any of my fics will include an accurate timeline of real life events then you're on crack

Series Summary: “You’ve known Matty since you were 14 and the boy has never failed to get on your last nerve, but over the years you two end up having unexplainable moments where you can’t help but feel you two are connected in a way you’ll never feel with anyone else, until one night he tells you something that may change how you view the boy forever…”

January 13th 2011

It's almost midnight and you're about to give a small speech in honor of the album, you're off to the side of the DJ Booth with Kelsey and the boys, well all except for Matty who still hasn't said a word to you in the hour that he's been here, you're both thankful and a little disappointed. Ross rubs your shoulders as Kels gives you the traditional best friend motivation spiel, you can't help but smile as you take in all the love and support from your favorite people, just as she finishes the DJ fades the music out and introduces you to the crowd, it's your turn to take the stage, as you walk on and take the mic your group cheers loudly.

"Haha yes thank you. Um, hello! I'm y/n l/n and I'm sorry to the club goers who are about to be subjected to my sad music, I promise some of them have at least an upbeat tune, and it's good music, well I think so anyway, some may say otherwise-"

"IT'S FUCKIN BRILLIANT!" George yells from the side.

"Oh lord, that's my dear friend George so he's a little biased, but thank you love. Anyway this album means a lot to me really, it's a collection of very personal songs, some that I've been working on probably years now. A lot of teenage angst went into this album which I think you'll be able to tell, and uhh, god I'm actually so nervous." You try to take even breaths as the crowd cheers you on.

"Right, so as a surprise I'm actually going to be performing my personal favorite song on the album, which I actually began writing at 18 and have been tweaking over the years, George the lovely fellow actually did the drums on this song cause I knew I wanted a good percussion track. Give him a round of applause as well." You pause and clap along with everyone else looking at him, he gives a small wave as you introduce the song. "Anyway this is Decode off of With Your Permission."

George enters the stage and takes a seat at the drums as the guitar starts you in, you look up to the crowd and make direct eye contact with Matty who stands perfectly centered in the small crowd, arms still tightly wrapped around the girl he brought, you feel your stomach turn.

How can I decide what's right? When you're clouding up my mind I can't win your losing fight All the time-

The crowd actually goes wild at the beginning of the song, the song which you'd been so worried no one would like or understand, but they're actually loving it. The confidence builds up inside you as you continue singing, Matty has stopped looking at you as this point and is violently making out with the girl as you approach your best verse, the verse about him.

-The truth is hiding in your eyes And it's hanging on your tongue Just boiling in my blood-

You're staring at him as he looks up at the perfect time for the song to make an impact on him.

-But you think that I can't see What kind of man that you are If you're a man at all Well, I will figure this one out

On my own (I'm screaming, I love you so) On my own (But my thoughts you can't decode)-

Kelsey is going crazy screaming along because of course you showed your best friend the songs beforehand, you'd never put anything out without her approval, her opinion is the only one in the world that really matters, the drum line intensifies as you begin to finish out the song.

-There is something I see in you It might kill me, I want it to be true

You're done and the crowds is cheering non-stop, George jumps up from his spot and rushes over scooping you up in his arms, he gives your cheek a kiss as he spins you around, soon Kelsey, Ross and Adam have also joined you on stage in a giant group hug of praise.

You're laughing as you try to bring the mic back up to your mouth. "And these are my amazing best friends, as you can see I have a wonderful support system, thank you all for listening, here is the rest of With Your Permission!" The DJ starts the next track as you all exit the stage.

You're all making your way over to your seating area, fresh drinks waiting for you at the table, but so is someone.

"Good performance, interesting song choice." Matty speaks up from his seat, the girl he was with nowhere to be seen.

"Thanks." Is all you can manage to say, George's arm around your waist tightens ready to defend you if he said anything rude.

"I got you a dirty shirley." Matty uses the tips of his fingers to push it towards you as you take a seat. "Still your favorite right?"

You give him a small smile, his tone sounds almost sad, but kind. "Always will be."

The rest of your friends sit, you've ended up between Matty and Kelsey in the rounded booth, and the conversation starts up easily. It feels like no time has passed when you're all together, like no matter what happens between anyone, the group will survive. Adam says something about some guy who he noticed has been pacing the bar back and forth hitting on every girl he can, and everyone laughs, noticing all his failed attempts. Matty adjusts his sitting position and his thigh rubs against yours and you take a sharp breath in at the close contact, no one really notices, no one except Matty of course who's turned to look at you, you can't help but look back at him.

He smiles at you. "So Decode?"

"Oh lord, not this." You laugh a little and put your face in your hands.

"No, no, it's good, bloody brilliant really. I reckon it'll be stuck in my head for a few weeks." He sounds flirty, and with all the alcohol in your system you can't really help but enjoy it.

"Yea?" George speaks up from the other end of the booth. "You should really listen to Under The Table, haven't gotten it out of my head since I first heard it."

"Ross has had to deal with me constantly playing the Like Real People do track you sent me on repeat for the last month, absolutely my favorite!" Kelsey gushes to you.

"Personally I say How Do I Tell You? is the best but I might be biased cause I helped with the guitar on it." Adam pipes in as well.

You smile big at all your friends singing their praise for your music.

"You've all heard them before?" Matty asks, sounding a little hurt.

Summer 2006:

It's a cold night, you've got a thick black cardigan wrapped around you as you sit on your front steps, smoking a joint you'd swiped from George the last time you'd seen him, which had been a while ago now. A few weeks after the party you two had decided to call off your situationship, nothing bad it was mutual, you both decided the weird tension the whole party ordeal had caused was too much, he was still one of your best friends. Everyone had staged a makeshift "intervention" for you, George and Matty to get over the whole thing, and it had gone surprisingly well, well enough that you were actually sat waiting for Matty to pick you up for a party. Kelsey had taken Ross on a trip with her family to Ireland, Adam was visiting with his dad's side of the family, and George had gone to California with his, so you and Matty had been trying to fill the gaps in your social life together.

You finish the joint as you see Matty's van pull up outside, you toss the end of the joint down and stub it out with your boot as you stand up making your way around the car to the passenger side, you hop in and Matty is looking at you with a huge grin on his face.

You look at him weird and laugh. "What's with the serial killer smile?"

"I have a surprise for you, but you have to wait till the party." He says turning forward and pulling out of your driveway as you buckle yourself in.

"Honestly terrified of what you have up your sleeve." You try to reach forward to change the radio station but Matty smacks your hand.

"Hey! Anyway you shouldn't be scared, in fact you should be kissing my fucking ass." He smirks still watching the road.

"Oh yeah?" You ask, raising an eyebrow. "And why is that Matthew?"

"Well you see June Bug." You groan at the nickname. "I happen to get my hands on something you've been dying to try."

You whip your head towards him, eye wide. "No! No you did not! Don't lie to me right now, I will be so mad if you're messing with me."

"Glove compartment." He winks at you.

You don't waste a second, you quickly open the compartment and resting inside on top of random papers and a car manual is a small baggie with white powder inside, you squeal and try to reach for it as Matty smacks your hand again.

"I said to wait till we're at the party!" He says seriously.

"But whyyyyy?" You whine.

"Cause it'll be your first time and I need to make sure we're safe before you ingest a drug you've never tried before."

You roll your eyes at him. "Don't say that like it's not your first time too."

"Well, actually-" He starts.

"Matthew Timothy Healy! You promised we'd try it together!" You pull out the puppy dog eyes.

"Listen love, I needed to make sure it wasn't janky coke, I didn't want it to kill you or something, needed to know what we were getting into so I could be sure you'd be okay." You smile at that.

"Oh Matty." You say leaning your head on his shoulder. "Always my knight in shining armor, the man who cares about me the most."

"Oh fuck off." He laughs, shrugging you off his shoulder.

He parks the car down a side street and grabs the baggie before you two make your way into the party, not one of Josh's this time, but a friend of his that he'd invited you both to, who also happened to live in a GIANT house, bigger than Matty's even. You both opt to do shots before anything else, you mention needing to be intoxicated to deal with the awful choice of music, Matty smiles and agrees with you taking your hand and dragging you to the kitchen to find something.

After a few vodka shots he grabs a 6 pack of ciders and you both made your way to one of the, what you assume is, many bathrooms, you enter and lock the door setting up camp for the events that are about to take place. You crack open two ciders as Matty sets up two lines on the counter and rolls up a one pound note.

"Okay so basically-" He starts to explain.

"I know how to do it Matty, we've seen it in movies plenty of times." You interrupt.

"Right, sorry I forgot movies are the best form of education, miss know-it-all, but whatever there is one thing you need to know, the drip back is awful so prepare for a bad taste in the back of your throat." He then takes his line and tilts his head back.

He hands the rolled up note to you and presents the line to you like an absolute dork, you turn to the counter and take your turn, tilting your head back afterwards like he had. He was right, the taste was god awful, but the feeling overshadowed the taste, you turn to him eyes wide.

"Holy fuck." Is all you say and he starts laughing. "No I'm serious Matthew this is fucking awesome."

"Yea?" He asks, smiling at you.

"Yes, god I could kiss you right now." You laugh.

He just stares at you smiling, and you can't help but smile at him even larger, you're both just sitting on the bathroom floor now, staring and giggling at each other, smiles never leaving your faces. You both take another line and afterwards you reach for a second cider, you drink trying to wash the taste out and some of it drips down the side of your mouth, as you set the can down Matty's hand comes up to your face to wipe off the liquid, his thumb slightly touches the corner of your mouth and it's like the same switch had been flipped as it had at the dance.

In seconds you two are on each other like rabbits in heat, but it's not fast paced, in fact it's almost antagonizing how slow it is, but it's amazing nonetheless, like if what you felt with him the first time you kissed times ten. Your mouths moved in perfect sync, the taste of his tongue on yours was almost as addicting if not more than the high you both had. He quickly scoops you up and sets you up on counter and pulls you forward so your bodies are flush against one another, one hand now on you jaw as his other has made its way up your leg and under your skirt, his thumb rubbing at your inner thigh, you can feel the wetness pooling in your underwear as he pulls away to breath.

"Fuck- Matty." You whine.

"Yea baby? What do you want?" He asks, his lips making their way to the crook of your neck.

"You, want you." Your hand tugs on his curls and he moans.

His hand toys with the edge of your underwear as he speaks. "Then have me June Bug."

Part 4 (coming soon-ish)

a/n: whelp here it is, sorry for the smut tease i couldn't help it, i promise the next part will have actual smut, anyway past Matty and reader have reconciled! but future Matty and reader are still iffy but who knows?? huh? anyway a chapter to end the night xx

#matty healy #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fanfiction #matty #healy #matty healy x reader #the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #dbd matty fics #matty healy x y/n #the 1975 fanfiction #dbd it’ll be the last time #george daniel #adam hann #ross macdonald

[bakerstreethound]

A Thousand Wishes

Relationship: Sherlock Holmes x reader

Warnings: fluff and soft sherlock

Summary: You reminisce over the year with Sherlock after the New Years Eve party at 221B comes to a close.

All writings belong to me @bakerstreethound (Do NOT claim, repost, copy or translate my works to other sites. I only publish here and on A03 under the same username)

Word Count: 670

A/N: Happy New Year! I hope 2023 goes well for you all. I wasn’t planning on having a fic posted but I decided to wrap this one up and combine it with the Fanfic Advent Calendar event @lilythemadqueen hosts. I appreciate you all and your support so much and it means the world to me. Please enjoy and thank you again (:

A thousand wishes for the coming year

A thousand wishes and more for you to have

To collect and bottle up with star dust

To dream and create the future

Yours for the taking

Wishing you laughter, warmth and love

For the coming year and all the ones that follow

******

You looked out the window of the flat, the fireworks shooting from the sky, illuminating London in all its glory. It was beautiful, you had to admit, but your attention turned towards the living room of 221B, your home now for six years.

The last notes of Sherlock’s violin resonated through the flat, followed by small applause from John, Mrs. Hudson, Greg, and Molly. Everyone raised their glasses toasting in the new year, delighted at the prospects of what was to come while another crackle of fireworks crackled and illuminated the sky of the city you’d come to love.

Sherlock huffed borderline in annoyance and anticipation to have you alone for himself the rest of the early hours of the morning. He sat his violin down on his desk without a care, darting away to the kitchen while you finished making your rounds and suffering through a little small talk, away from the usual topic of murder and cold cases, switching to potential vacations and holidays the others were planning through the year.

Soon enough, everyone retired, and you hugged and spoke your thanks to your close friends who had become like family and welcomed you as their own. John pecked your cheek, grasping your shoulder to steady himself.

“Happy New Year, don’t get too rowdy tonight,” he cast a knowing wink at you before clobbering up the stairs before you could yell at him to be careful like you usually did.

A tired sigh escaped you when you closed the door and you leaned your head back against it if only to capture a few more minutes of silence to yourself. Somehow then you willed yourself to yours and Sherlock’s shared room, rolling your eyes at his purple robe draped carelessly on the side of his bed. You run your hands along the fine material, loving the way it feels and it brings back many a happy memory through the years.  

The fireworks now long gone made way for a surprise for you; the snow began falling as if by magic, timed right as Sherlock walked into the bedroom huffing, the faint scent of cigarette smoke clinging to his clothes.

“I’ve never seen snow like this before, it’s beautiful,” you sighed breaking the comfortable silence while, admiring the way the snow gently fell along the pavement and flittered throughout the sky.

Sherlock's arms wrapped around you from behind, trapping you in his warmth and you leaned into him, welcoming the protection. His lips found your neck with practiced ease and you groaned, melting further as he sucked gentle marks determined to adore you.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered as if in silent prayer, his hands caressing you gently like you are the most precious thing in his universe, which you are but he won’t admit it out loud. You know deep down he cared but in moments like these you favor, the quiet moments of passion and adoration where you can be close to him.

The snow continued to fall and you fall into the arms of Sherlock, as he claims you over and over in the throes of his unique passions, desperation winning out in the end, for he couldn’t fathom any years alone without you in his life.

Out of the thousand wishes he didn’t believe in, you were the only one he allowed himself to hope for. All he wanted was you and when you kissed him properly, the first one of the New Year, he finally felt complete and full again.

A thousand wishes and you wanted to encapsulate this moment forever never wanting to leave this perfect moment of adoration and peace. But many adventures await in the new year, hope blooming on the horizon.

******

@bakerstreethound​ @disneymarina​ @groovy-lady​ @viper-official​ @lilythemadqueen​ @frostandflamesfanfic​ @feral-for-strange​ @starks-hero​ @wint3r-h3art​ @inklore​

Sherlock tags: @coping-via-clint-eastwood​ @andreasworlsboring101​ @ilovefanfictions​ @clussysposts​ @ravencatart​ @alienoresimagines​ @aephereal​ @turkisherlockian​ @evelynrosestuff​ @french-vanilla-in-the-clouds​ @classickook​ @sherlocksgirl91​ @battledress​ @azu21​ @sylvieofasgard​ @strangelockd​ @sobeautifullyobsessed\​

#sherlock x reader #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock x you #sherlock holmes x you #sherlock holmes imagine #bbc sherlock imagine #sherlock fanfiction #sherlock fanfic #benedct cumberbatch #sherlock tv

[timebegins-onopeningday]

🌤️Challenge update 🌞

Okay, folks, based on the results of the poll, here is what we are going to do! Since the overwhelming majority of you said yes to keeping posting open, I am going to keep posting in this collection open forever.

Our schedule now looks like this:

September 12: Soft deadline for new works (tomorrow!) If you get can get your work in by then, you're doing great. Massive applause to the people who posted already.

September 13: All works that have been posted will be revealed around 8am UTC-8. Creators will no longer have a period of anonymity, authorship will be revealed immediately.

September 14: Official start of the rolling submission period for new works. Basically, when you claim it and finish it - post it! It will be revealed, not anonymous, and a part of the collection. There is no waiting period.

Monthly on or around the 15th, going forward from September: I will do a round up post on this blog of new works that have been posted since the deadline (if any). I may also sprinkle in a couple prompts I feel could use some lovin' throughout the months. I may also firmly remind you to leave comments. I may encourage you to make rec posts or transformative works based on the works you loved. Depends on how many cups of coffee I drink prior to crafting the post! We just don't know!

But this is not the end of our efforts to keep writing baseball fic!

Because a not insignificant chunk of you indicated that you would also like the option to leave new prompts, what I have decided to do is run this challenge again next year! The logistics of re-opening prompts either on a rolling basis or at regular intervals across the year was going to be too much for me as one person to handle on top of keeping up with new works and also just generally being a busy person with a lot going on. Also, we have 110 banger prompts this year! Let's give them some love before we jump into something new.

Our jobs for the next year: I will keep prompting for Year One of this challenge closed and work on crafting next year's challenge to be better and less chaotic; you all are going to start brainstorming prompts for Year Two! I do not have a schedule for next year yet, that will come much later next year, but it will probably be pushed back at least a month (mid-July -> late-August), so you have plenty of time in the postseason-offseason-2024 season to put your faves in a boba shaker and toss them around. Rules will likely remain the same or very similar and if there are any major changes, I will be sure to highlight them.

In summary:

Posting open forever: Yes!

New prompts in this collection: No!

New prompt meme in 2024: Yes!!

Thank you, thank you, thank you all for voting and special shout out to all of you who gave feedback, either in comments, the tags or in DMs! I could not have refined the action I took for the feedback I was receiving without all of your input. I hope this satisfies most of you. I know a handful of you wanted the collection closed and I offer my sincerest apologies that that was not the action I decided to take.

Baseball fandom is a small but generous community and I appreciate every one of you. With your energy and creativity, I think we can make it even brighter through this year and into the next. Thank you all 🌝

#mod post

[awkwardtickleetoo]

Sharing is Caring

another ficlet that is…… not….. ficlet length…. 😬👍

request from @kasey-writes-stuff !! from this ask :)

my girl hannah getting TWO fics just like she deserves 😔✊ and sylvee is featured in this one a bit toooo let’s get a round of applause for sylvee, also like she deserves 💕

switch!hannah, switch!sapnap, feat. george and sylvee, 1.7k words

enjoy!!

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“It’s fucking cold out here, bro, where’s– oh my god, does Han– Hannah still has my fucking hoodie, doesn’t she?” Sapnap spoke aloud, mostly to himself but for anyone who happened to be near him to hear, sliding his phone into his pocket while he looked around to try and spot Hannah.

“Uh…” Sylvee, who was the one person in question that happened to be near him, hummed in thought, putting her hand above her eyes and standing on her toes, tilting her head up to look as well. She pointed forward, where Hannah and George were standing at a crosswalk slightly ahead of them, pulling Sapnap’s attention with her finger. “Looks like it, yeah,” She finalized, dropping her arm, swinging it slightly as they walked the rest of the way towards their other two friends.

“Hey, Hannah, can I have my hoodie back?” He asked when they made it there, stepping in front of the group as the light changed to allow them to get across the street.

“What? No, I’m still using it, you idiot,” She replied, pulling one of the sleeves over her hand and pressing her palm to her chest.

“But I’m fucking cold, and I need it back, so give it back!” Sapnap demanded as he turned around to face the rest of the group again, walking backwards a few steps before everyone else stopped before him.

“No! Take George’s jacket, he’s not even wearing it! And he has a hoodie on anyway!” She argued back, pointing at the jacket draped over George's arm.

“George doesn’t let me wear his clothes anymore!”

“What? Why not?”

“I don’t know! ‘Cause he’s a little bitch!”

“No, that’s not even true!” George cut in to defend. “You just keep stealing my stuff and hiding it and then you don’t give anything back when I want it back! So now I don’t share with you anymore.”

“You guys are both so stupid it’s not even funny,” Hannah said with a roll of her eyes.

“You take George’s jacket, then!” Sapnap argued, waving his hand between the two of them.

“That makes literally no sense when I’m already wearing this one! It’s not my fault George won’t give you his shit!” Hannah finished, pushing past Sapnap and starting to walk again, before she was stopped by him grabbing her arm.

“Hannah.”

“Ugh, my god, whaaaaat?!” She groaned exaggeratedly, throwing her head back as she turned to face him again, rolling her head forward to look at him with raised eyebrows.

“Hannah…” He said with a serious tone, mirroring her trying expression and tilted head. “I didn’t wanna have to do this, but…”

“Oh, please, I’m soooo scared. What could you possibly do to me that’s so bad?” She tainted, earning a knowing chuckle from both Sylvee and George from where they stood shoulder to shoulder behind Sapnap. She glanced at them, eyebrows furrowing in confusion and interest, before Sapnap continued.

“Hannah… If you don’t give it back, I’m afraid I’m gonna have to tickle you…” He explained, shrugging as if he had no other choice. She squinted at him, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, but I would…” He replied, taking a step towards her, and she scoffed and turned away to keep walking.

“I don’t believe you for a seco–OND–!” She attempted to continue, but was cut off by a sudden yell when she felt a finger poke her in the side. She whipped around, throwing her hands towards the offending finger and successfully catching Sapnap’s wrist in her grip, glaring at him with wide eyes. “Don’t.”

“I tried to warn you.”

“He did warn you, to be fair,” George cut in again, the look on his face so smug it made Hannah want to punch it off.

“Shut up, George!” She yelled, glaring at him as well, and his smug smile only grew.

“Hannah. I’ll give you one more chance,” Sapnap warned, lifting his free hand up and wiggling his fingers at her. On instinct, she took a half-step back, pushing his arm that was still in her grasp further away.

“You’re being an idiot. I’m not giving it back.”

“Okay. Your funeral.” Sapnap shrugged, before suddenly reaching his free hand forward and clawed his fingers over her tummy, over the fabric of his purple hoodie that she had on.

“Sap!” She yelled, keeping her hold on his wrist with one hand and shooting her other hand to bat at the one doing the tickles. He giggled along with her, keeping the wiggling claw in action even through her pushing and smacking at his arm, relishing in the giggles he received and the pink tint on her cheeks that definitely wasn’t caused by just her makeup. “Nohoho!”

“You know what you have to do, Han,” He reminded her, his hand following her movements as she twisted her torso and took a few steps away.

“Nohoho wahahahay!” She denied again, shaking her head, the long strands of wavy hair left out of her ponytail swaying with her movements. She pushed him away again, but her reprieve only lasted a few seconds before there were fingers poking up and down her side like it was their job. “Sap, stohohohop!”

“You know what you have to do, Hannah, you know what you gotta do,” He explained, chuckling at her reactions and stepping forward with her.

He pulled his hands away for a moment, long enough to make it noticeable even if it was barely a few seconds, before he suddenly tasered both her sides, right at the dip of her waist where her cropped t-shirt ended below the hoodie. She squealed, whipping around fully once again, batting at his attacking fingers with one hand and covering her mouth with the other. Her cheeks turned even more pink as she heard the other three chuckle and giggle at her reaction.

“FINE! Fihine, I’ll gihive ihihit back, fuhuck off!” She caved, rolling her eyes and sighing in frustration.

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He said teasingly, pulling his hands back entirely and letting her calm down.

“You’re actually the most insane person on the planet, do you know that?”

“That’s the goal, thank you,” Sapnap replied with a smug smile, earning himself another scoff and head shake from her. He put one hand back out, gesturing with an upward-facing grabby hand towards the hoodie she still had on. “Give.”

“Fine. Freak.” Hannah pulled her right arm through the sleeve of the hoodie, pulling one half of it over her shoulder before moving to the other side. Sapnap smiled to himself, reaching forward and placing a single poke on the side of her now exposed stomach, making her flinch and whip her head towards him. “Sapnap, I will burn this hoodie in front of you, I swear to god.”

“Okay, sorry! Sorry. I’m done now, I promise.” He put his hands up in surrender, letting Hannah continue to yank the hoodie off and throw it at him, hitting him in the face and making the entire group burst out laughing. “Thank you. Everyone’s happy now,” Sapnap said as he slipped his own hoodie on, grateful that it was still comfortably warm from being worn by another person.

“Yeah, sure, everyone’s happy,” Hannah mumbled with a roll of her eyes, smiling and giggling when Sapnap simply raised his middle finger at her and then began walking towards their destination once again. The rest of the group followed him, Sylvee pushing slightly forward to fall in step with him again and Hannah and George a step behind and to the right.

After a few moments of walking, George cleared his throat, before extending his arm that had his dark red and blue jacket draped over it for Hannah to take.

“Can I?” She asked softly, and he nodded, a small smile on his face. “Thanks, George,” She said with an equally fond smile, making his grow sweetly as she took the jacket off his arm and slid it on, adjusting the sleeves and the collar as they continued walking. “At least someone in this group is my friend and cares if I’m cold!” She said, voice growing louder as she went on, making Sapnap turn his head around to her.

“Shut the fuck up, idiot!”

“You’re the idiot!”

“You’re both idiots!” George replied, making both arguing parties laugh, before Sapnap and Sylvee turned back to their previous conversation, causing George and Hannah to as well. George paused for a moment, chuckling to himself, thinking about his next move. “Hm…”

“What?” She asked, furrowing her eyebrows at him when he didn’t continue. He looked about ready to, then stopped, then he did again, and this time he actually did speak, after a moment of pausing again. “What is it, George?”

“You know you could, like… get him back, right?” He offered, squinting his eyes at her slightly. She considered for a moment, before smiling widely, her eyes growing bigger and more elated as she did so.

“Oh my god,” She began, looking over to Sapnap, then back to George. “You’re right, I actually can!” She wasted absolutely no time, taking a step to her left and another closer to Sapnap, before suddenly digging her pointer fingers and thumbs into the backs of his sides, as well as the dip of his waist, just like he’d done to her.

He squealed immediately, jumping forward and turning around to look at her with wide eyes.

“What the fuck?!”

“Apologize for being a dick.”

“What?! No! Absolutely not!”

“Okay. Your funeral,” She said with a smug smile, before latching her hands into his sides and tummy, squeezing and scribbling and scratching sporadically, going as far as to slip her hands under the hoodie to skitter her nails over his t-shirt to make him squeal and squirm.

“NOHO– Hahannahah!”

“Say you’re sorry!”

“Nohohoho, nehehever!” He laughed, pushing her away and running forward to escape her.

She followed him without question, and the rest of the evening consisted of George and Sylvee watching them chase each other around, playfully grabbing at and laughing with and tickling each other, never seeming to get tired of it, even as they got back to Sapnap’s car and knew the fun had to come to an end.

#thank you for the request kasey!!! #this was so so fun to do i love hannah and sap so much #cals writing #lee!hannah #ler!hannah #lee!sapnap #ler!sapnap #kasey writes stuff