#or that he spilled white out on the tongue of his shoe only

[rodolfoparras]

Capture The Moment

Pairing: Izaack Gauss x Male Reader

Cw: 18+, cheating, blowjobs, sub!Izaack, dom!male reader

Wc: 2k+

A/N: I’m fully aware that Izaack doesn’t have a wife but for the sake of the plot, he now does

Synopsis: In which Izaack’s wife asks you to keep an eye on her husband since he keeps coming home late, and you’re more than happy to help

Thinking about Izaack Gauss who always seems to come home a bit late and every time he does he looks very much disheveled hair mussed and three piece practically undone and of course his wife is bound to get suspicious so she kindly asks you to keep an eye on her husband, see if you notice anything suspicious and then report it to her and who are you to deny her?

The sound of heels clicking turns your attention to the glass window in front of you and there he stands, Izaack Gauss, dressed in the simple but chic three piece he left in this morning looking a bit tired from the day but besides that nothing about his appearance raises any alarms in your head.

“Sir,” he greets with a tired smile on his face as he searches his pockets for what you assume can only be documents. “Seems that I must’ve forgotten my documents today” he continues, but despite his words there’s not a trace of remorse in his tone “Is there any other way we can resolve this?”

A laugh escapes your lips, the sound echoing loudly in the otherwise silent lobby before you go to undo the lock to the cubicle you call office. “Come on in,”

The sheepish look on his face turns into something else, smile steadily growing til his sharp molars are on full display, tired eyes becoming more alert and swirling with something akin desire as he step inside your small office space.

Well inside you see that he’s undone the first couple of buttons of his dress shirt, thick dark hairs prominently standing out alongside the pristine white fabric. He’s even gone out his way to roll the sleeves up to his elbows, showing more skin than usual. And as your eyes continue to trail lower down his body, you see the sharp silhouette of his waist, tucked into fitted gray slacks that leave almost nothing to the imagination.

Izaack was one attractive man. You had thought so ever since the very first time you saw him standing in front of the little glass window, with a sheepish smile on his face as he dug around in his pockets for documents.

And when he spoke: his voice was deep and smooth, a couple octaves lower than what you expected it to be and you couldn’t help but wonder what it would take for it to go higher.

That was of course until you saw the wedding band on his hand and his wife standing next to him.

In that very moment you had realized Izaack was a taken man. Izaack, however couldn’t care less about that.

And as if he didn’t just stand tall in front of you, said man falls to the ground. The sound of his leather shoes dragging across the floor sounds all too loud in the otherwise silent office room but you revel in the sound, leaning back into your seat as you watch the big bulk of a man crawl up towards you.

He sits like a dog at your feet, cheek nuzzling up against your clothed dick, spit soiling your slacks while bleary eyes gaze up at you.

You almost want to drag this out a bit, want to watch him pathetically suckle at your slacks, want to watch those blue eyes turn glassy from tears, face burning red as he begs and pleads for you to let him suck your dick.

Unfortunately the limited amount of time won’t allow you to do that - an unknowing tenant may drop in any second now so with a nod of your head, you watch as his ring clad hand eagerly undoes the zipper of your pants, and you swiftly lift your hips, allowing him to pull down your pants along with your briefs.

You watch his dark eyes grow wide as your cock spills out, pink tongue peaking out and wetting his lips in anticipation

“This is what you wanted hm?” you ask, one hand sinking into his dark mane of curls while the other hand grabs ahold of your now fully hard cock, nuzzling it up against his face much like he’d done earlier.

Izaack eagerly nods his head, nuzzles his face closer and you watch with intrigue as pre smears all over his cheek and chin.

“What would your wife think if she saw you like this, hm? You say and yank at his hair watching for a brief moment as he snaps out of his trance, eyes glancing down at his wedding band before falling back onto you again.

“Jesus Christ,” you, laugh in disbelief “you wouldn’t even care would you” You say as you nudge your cockhead against his lips, and you quickly get your answer as you watch the way he eagerly wraps them around the tip.

Izaack had always been skilled with his mouth , you had known so since the very first time you saw him standing in front of a camera. He was quick with his tongue when interviewing someone, flashing his sharp molars when someone tried to intimidate him and sometimes even swallowing down his pride to get the information he needs and wants.

And it’s no different when he’s down on his knees, sharp tongue dragging across your tip, trailing kisses along the length of your dick before his tongue is once again lapping at your cockhead like he can’t bear to lose the taste of you.

“Mmm fuck- just ah- just like that,” you hiss while running a shaky hand through his hair as if it’s the only thing keeping you from losing your sanity.

Although there’s no smile on his face , you can see the amusement in his eyes as he gauges your reactions to his touch; irises glittering as he suckles on your cockhead, sharp molars purposely grazing the sensitive flesh.

“Holy fu-“ you yelp out and for a second you feel like the air has been punched out of your lungs, as you harshly buck up into his mouth.

The other man doesn’t seem to mind your rough touch matter of fact he seems rather pleased, contented hums escaping his lips, the vibrations sending sparks of pleasure straight to your dick. “Izaack fuck!”

Izaack continues like that for a moment, switching between teasing licks and suckling on your tip til your cock is practically throbbing with need.

“‘Enough teasing,” you groan out, this time yanking at his hair in warning and that’s all it takes for him to comply to your request, wet hot mouth sinking down onto your dick, taking you inch by inch til his is nose brushing over the coarse hair at the base of you. “Mph! God!”

It doesn’t take much before he sets a steady pace, and you lose yourself in the pretty sight he makes with his spit slicked lips stretched taut around your cock, fat tears trickling down his flushed cheeks whenever you graze too far back in his throat all while squirming around in place trying to subtly relieve his own hard and weeping dick.

The sound of the phone ringing pulls you out of your daze, and you quickly remember where you are and what you’re supposed to be doing as you blindly grab ahold of the phone and put it to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hello! This is Mrs Gauss. I apologize for calling this late but I was wondering if you have seen my husband? He was supposed to be home an hour ago but he has yet to show up,” the sound of his wife’s voice trickles through the phone.

“Mrs Gauss! Hello! Uh-“ you stutter out, momentarily feeling yourself going tense under his touch, like a bucket of ice had been dumped on you. Izaack however seems as unphased as ever as he continues to work his mouth on you.

“I really am so sorry for bothering you but I have a hard time going to bed without my husband, and to be honest I’m worried about him. So have you seen him?”

Oh, you sure had seen the man, down on his knees with your cock in his mouth while batting his long lashes at you.

“Yes Izaack- Mr Gauss!” you correct yourself but it comes out as a yelp as the man in question starts fondling your ballsack.

Suddenly, the phone falls out of your hands, hips jerking up as grunts and groans escape your mouth.

“Just like that. Ah fuck!” You moan out, head lolling back as you buck up into his touch.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” Once again the sound of Mrs Gauss’ voice brings you out of your daze, this time it echoes from where the phone cord hangs from your fingertips.

You somehow muster up enough strength to fish up the phone to you, hand shaky, voice breathy as you finally reply to the rather confused woman.“Yes! I’m sorry Mrs Gauss. There seems to be something wrong with the phone line-“ and just like on queue another moan tries to slip out of you but luckily you manage to catch yourself in time, teeth sinking into your bottom lip biting down so hard til you’re sure you taste blood all while watching your cock obscenely slide in and out of Izaack’s mouth.

“‘Mm should- should definitely get it checked I agree,” you say, echoing her suggestion back to her, before you lose your last bit of focus as Izaack starts sucking more intensely before he suddenly stops and pulls away.

The panic in your face must’ve been obvious because you see the way his lips curl up before his mouth goes slack, body willfully relaxing as he gazes up at you in expectation.

Jesus Christ.

You don’t even think twice before you start fucking into his mouth, losing yourself in the pleasurable feeling of the wet hot walls of his throat squeezing down onto your cock. The fact that Mrs Gauss is on the other line has long escaped your mind.

“…..it seems to have cut off again” Mrs Gauss says and lightly chuckles, sounding ever so oblivious to what’s going on, on the other end ” would you mind repeating what you said?”

This time it’s Izaack prompting you to answer the phone, a firm squeeze to your thigh brings your attention back to the present moment before you manage to utter some sort of response to her “My apologies, Mrs Ah Mrs Gauss. What I was trying to say is that Mr Gauss just entered the lobby,”

“Oh, alright, thank you,” she says and and sighs out of relief, smile ever so prominent when she speaks but you can’t help but think how the relief in her voice is a stark contrast to the intense onslaught of pleasure in your gut as Izaack continues to work himself up and down your cock “Well would you mind sending him up to me? I’ve been….”

But the sound of her voice fades away as you inch closer to the edge, the coil in your stomach tightening until it finally snaps.

“Ah- Ah Fuck!” You cry out, phone dropping out of your hand and landing with a thud on the floor, as hot ropes of cum spill onto Izaack’s tongue.

“Hello?! Hello?!.. It must’ve cut off again, they really should check the phone lines today. ” You hear her say to herself, voice echoing through the line but you’re unable to focus on anything other than the obscene sight that is you continuously sliding in and out of Izaack’s mouth with Izaack milking your orgams for all it’s worth til there’s nothing but pathetic spurts of cum landing on his tongue.

Eventually you grow too sensitive, body wincing under his touch and you use a shaky hand to push him away from you. “Sto-stop,”

The man reluctantly agrees, and pulls away from you, the last bit connecting you to him being a string of spit before it breaks and disappears.

Through blurry eyes you see Izaack, getting up from his knees, swiftly pulling out a handkerchief he must’ve been carrying with him and wiping his lips. He doesn’t waste another second picking up the phone that had fallen to the floor, before nudging it towards. “Hello?! Are you there?!”

One shaky breath is all it takes before you muster up the strength to answer her: voice breathy and strained, eyes barely able to focus on what’s happening in front of you as you utter the words “‘M sorry, Mrs Gauss I had to deal with something urgent but I’m sending him up now,”

#that’s not my neighbor #this is a queue ! have a lovely day/ night! #that’s not my neighbor milkman #that’s not my neighbor izaack gauss #that’s not my neighbor milkman x reader #that’s not my neighbor izaack gauss x reader #that’s not my neighbor milkman x male reader #that’s not my neighbor izaack gauss x male reader #izaack gauss #Francis mosses #izaack gauss x reader #Francis mosses x reader #izaack gauss x male reader #Francis mosses x male reader #dom male reader #sub male character #x male reader #male reader #x reader

[cherryredstars]

18+, NSFW, Boot Humping, Semi-Blowjob

Thinking about John Price and him making his cute, young girlfriend break in his new military boots before he goes off to deployment again :((

He's perched on the sofa, a beer bottle in hand as the television plays rugby at a low volume. The denim of his jeans stretches over his thighs, tightening at his knees as he spreads his legs wide. The hair on his upper body is exposed, chest covered in dark strands and a thick happy trail below the pudge of his stomach. He isn't even paying attention to you, eyes set on the tele as he sips from his beer every now and then. His bottom lip shines from the television light when he pulls the bottle away, tongue swiping over it to collect the beer.

The sight makes you whine, your hips moving over the top of his boot. You've completely soaked through your white panties, making them translucent as they stick to your cunt. The soft, frantic sound of fabric rubbing against leather is almost drowned out by the match and your noises, and John grunts whenever your whining gets too loud. Thin, white lines are scratched into John's jeans as you claw at them, trying to stabilize yourself as you hump his shoe. Your cunt drags against the material, streaks of arousal painting and softening the leather. Whenever your clothed clit grazes the rough ropes of his laces, you cry out, body jumping slightly. Your knees burn slightly from digging into the floor to sit over his shoe, but the slight pain is nothing compared to your desperate attempts to get off.

Your head rests on his leg, whining and moaning as you try to get the right angle and speed. When you turn your head you can see the defined outline of his chub straining against his pants, making your head dizzy. You can't help but whine, pawing at it as you move your hips. It makes John hiss, finally looking away from his game to look down at you.

"Please," you whimper up at him, your hand still pressing into his erection. Price chuckles, raising an eyebrow at you in question as he takes another sip of his beer.

"Please what, doll? Can't read ya' mind y'know," John teases, and his hand slides down your face, relishing the way you instantly lean into his touch with fucked-out eyes.

"I want it in my mouth, please," you practically cry. Your hips press harder into his shoe at the visual playing in your mind, and you almost cry out in joy when he gives you a lazy smile as he begins to unzip his pants.

His hand slips through the band of his jeans and boxers, fishing out his cock. He's thick with bulging veins and a mushroom tip that's red and leaking. He can't help the chuckle he lets out as your eyes stare at it half-mast. Your mouth parts slightly as he slowly pumps himself, getting himself nice and hard. You reach out, taking over as his hand pulls away. You press yourself against his leg, whining as you're only able to reach his tip from the position he's in. His leg stops you from moving any further as it presses hard against your chest, but if you were to readjust on his shoe, you would lose the perfect angle you're in to stimulate your clit. John groans as he watches you struggle to suck him off properly while riding his shoe, the rugby match long forgotten.

Your head bobs sloppily, whining around his tip as you try to lick up the precum that he leaks out. As your hips move, he slips from your mouth every now and then, causing you to repeatedly suck him back into your mouth desperately. John hisses, hand coming to tangle in your hair as he throws his head back with a curse. You can feel your peak approaching as you stare up at him, pulling away from his cock as you moan out. You refocus all your energy on bucking your hips, mouth dropped open and noises reaching a higher octave with each movement.

When your clit skids over his laces again, your body tenses up. Your nails sink into his thigh, trying to keep yourself steady as you finish. Your body jumps slightly, feeling more wetness spill into your panties. Your movements get slower as you try to ride out your high, panting heavily as you call out John's name. John has this dark, hungry look in his eyes as he watches you come down, his cock twitching. When your movements finally stop, you slump into his leg, cheek resting on his knee as you look up at him. John's hand comes down to you, petting your hair and you smile gently as you close your eyes.

But, right as you think you've finished your job, John yanks your hair so you look up at him.

"Don't get too comfortable, babe. Still got another shoe ya' gotta break in f'me."

#john price #captain john price #captain price #john price cod #john price smut #john price x you #john price x reader #price cod #price mw2 #cod price #price smut #cod captain price #cod captain john price #cod smut #cod john price #captain price cod #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #call of duty smut #mw2 smut #call of duty x reader

[minastras]

we fell apart when the sky was orange (and now every sunset reminds me of you) // beomgyu

Two long years after he broke your heart, Choi Beomgyu remains your first and only love. Unfortunately he’s now also your colleague, and you’re not sure if you ever really got over him.

at a glance: gender neutral reader, exes to lovers, office au, angst, fluff, ft. enhypen’s heeseung, itzy’s ryujin, and p1harmony’s keeho

words: 6.5k

warnings: swearing

notes: happy valentine's day!! i'm like an hour late but shh hope u enjoy <3

——————————

Your one-and-a-half year long relationship with Choi Beomgyu, the first serious relationship either of you had ever had, ended abruptly during a lovely evening in the East Coast Gardens. You’d gone there together with some of your friends for a picnic and to watch the sunset, celebrating finishing your second year of university.

At some point, you and Beomgyu left the rest of the group to take a walk along the beach. The sky was tinted that showstopping blend of pink and orange only seen at dawn and dusk, and he was holding your hand.

“We have to break up,” he blurted out, letting go.

When you two walked together, it was typical for neither of you to speak for long stretches of time. You weren’t exactly sure what you expected him to break the silence with, but it surely wasn’t that.

“What?”

“We have to break up,” he repeated, barely even looking you in the eye. His voice was flat, but his jaw was so tight he was slurring all of his words. “It’s, uh, it’s been real.”

The glow of the sunset, as breathtaking as it was, faded into the background for you. “It’s been real?” you echoed in disbelief, your mind still lagging ten paces behind your mouth. “Gyu, you can’t be serious. What happened?”

He took a step back from you. “Nothing happened. We just aren’t right for each other.”

“But- but we’re in love,” you protested, hating how childish you sounded. Maybe you were. Maybe it was your juvenile foolishness that had convinced you he meant it when he said ‘I love you too’, as if the ‘too’ tacked on at the end wasn’t a clear enough sign he just said it to agree with you.

You couldn’t remember what happened after that — what he’d said in response, if anything, whether you’d stormed off first or if he’d left you there in the sand, if you had cried. All you remembered was the heartwrenching drive home, shoved in the backseat next to a friend you’d long since lost touch with, periodically tipping your head back so your tears wouldn’t spill over.

——————————

Two years later, everything worked out in the end. You’d like to think so, at least, because you and your best friend Ryujin had just graduated from university at the top of your cohort. With your grades, you both easily secured jobs at the biggest accounting firm in the country as recruits in their prestigious Graduate Talent Programme. It was your first day on the job, and you were about to meet the other GTs.

“No way,” Ryujin muttered.

“What?” you asked, but as the question was leaving your mouth you saw what she was pointing at. Or, more accurately, who.

Beomgyu saw you at almost the exact same moment you did. He locked eyes with you too quickly for you to have pretended not to see him, so you stood rooted in place as he made his way over to you. The expression on his face was unreadable.

“Hey, Y/N,” he greeted. You couldn’t recall the last time you heard your name come out of his mouth. Even though the office was stuffed with people more important than you two, people you should’ve been introducing yourself to, you saw and heard and felt no one but him.

“Hi, Beomgyu,” you returned, his name heavy on your tongue.

He rocked back on the heels of his black dress shoes — so opposite to the sneakers he used to wear everyday back when you dated, the white ones you had given him for his birthday four years ago and he refused to replace despite them just about falling apart — and put his hands in his pockets.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he said. You sensed a degree of wariness creeping into his tone now. He looked exactly the same, barring his slightly shorter hair with his icy grey highlights taken out.

“Yeah, what are the odds?” you asked, making casual conversation as if you couldn’t hear that same wariness in your own words.

He wore a crisp white button down, starched impeccably into perfect plains that wrapped around his broad torso, a thin black tie, and black slacks. He’d clearly gotten better at tying ties. You remembered struggling through the How to Tie a Windsor Knot WikiHow article with him before one of his job interviews, both of you flailing around helplessly for nearly an hour before you succeeded.

He nodded to someone standing behind you, prompting you to turn around. “Nice you’ve got Ryujin with you. Heeseung got in too, if you remember him.”

You did. When you and Beomgyu were still together he often told you about Heeseung, an old friend from high school he gamed with online. You wondered what he had told Heeseung about your breakup.

Thankfully, someone else called for everyone’s attention right then, and you booked it to the other corner of the room.

“Good morning everyone! I’d like to introduce our brand new GTP recruits. GTs, if you would please come to the front.”

You and the four other GTs awkwardly shuffled forward, and you ended up standing right beside Beomgyu. The universe hated you; that was the only explanation. Ryujin was too busy stifling her laughter to feel sorry for you.

“Joining our auditing team are Shin Ryujin, Lee Heeseung, and Yoon Keeho. Joining our advisory team are Y/N and Choi Beomgyu. Please give them all a warm welcome!”

The rest of the office clapped politely while your world crumbled around you (fine, you were being hyperbolic). Of all the people on the planet you could’ve been paired with, it just had to be him.

He still smelt the same, wearing the same cologne he’d worn when you were together. The same cologne which clung to your bedsheets for weeks after you broke up.

You closed your eyes for a split second, looking down so no one would notice, and took a deep breath. Then, you raised your head again, turned to Beomgyu, and held out your hand.

“I look forward to working with you,” you said with a polite smile.

He raised an eyebrow but shook your hand anyway.

——————————

Your new team lead whisked you and Beomgyu around from office to office, throwing more information at you than any normal person would be able to process, giving you no room to breathe — let alone talk to the man who’d broken your heart two years ago and was apparently not over you, either.

Clearly, not talking to him didn’t mean you weren’t thinking about him.

Perhaps he was thinking about you too, because you’d catch him watching you out of the corner of your eye when he thought you were distracted. But your interactions with each other were limited to curt, perfunctory statements and uncomfortable glances.

After clock-off, your new colleague Keeho suggested all the GTs go out for drinks. He claimed it was so you’d get to know each other better, but it was clear he just wanted drama. You were at the bar ordering another mocktail when Beomgyu pulled out the barstool next to yours.

“Make that two, please,” he told the bartender, sitting down. Neither of you said a word. You snuck a glance at him to find him already looking at you, so you turned away and stared straight ahead.

Were you over him?

Truthfully, you weren’t sure. You couldn’t tell the difference between being hung up on an ex and grieving someone who’d been such a pivotal part of your life. Maybe it was the whole ‘you never really get over your first love’ thing other people talked about.

He cleared his throat. “Hey.”

You winced, bracing yourself for awkwardness. “Hey.”

“So, uh, you look-” he hesitated, cutting himself off, “How’ve you been?”

“Good… good. You?” You were starting to regret ordering a non-alcoholic drink, because he was just as pretty as you remembered and it was doing your head in.

Ryujin always said you needed to date again, that you’d never move on unless you put yourself back out there. To your credit, you did try. But you ran all your attempts at dating into the ground with all the same flaws of yours that had ended things between you and Beomgyu two years ago.

“Good…” He paused again, and then straightened his back and put his hands on the bar counter, open and declarative. “Can we not do this? Can we just start over?” he asked.

“Start over?” you echoed.

“What happened between us happened so long ago. We don’t need to dredge all that back up again,” he said.

The bartender returned with your identical drinks and, before you could say anything, Beomgyu handed over his credit card. He waved away your surprised gratitude, raised his glass, and held the other one out to you.

Maybe to another person, someone who knew him less well than you did, he’d seem cool and confident. But you could see a tentativeness in his eyes, a slight shake that told you he was worried you wouldn’t respond well, that you wouldn’t take the olive branch in his hand.

You let out a small laugh, the group chat revelation from this morning still rattling about in your head, and tapped the rim of your glass against his.

“Sure, Gyu. Let’s start over.”

——————————

You and Ryujin spent the entire night and most of the next morning’s commute to the office debating what ‘start over’ meant. She thought it meant going back to the courtship stage (whatever that was), and you thought it meant erasing yours and Beomgyu’s history entirely and beginning anew. As strangers.

“But he isn’t over you!” she protested, drawing ire from the elderly couple sitting in front of you on the train.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” you mumbled. “Nothing’s going to happen between us. We literally didn’t say a word to each other yesterday at work.”

Ryujin shook her head. “You’re wrong. There’s something there. I don’t know what, but there’s something.”

Nearly a whole week passed before you began to admit she was right, when even you could no longer bury your head in the sand and pretend you didn’t see it. You kept telling yourself you were content with carrying on your ostrich roleplay for as long as humanly possible, but it was starting to grate on you.

Every year, the GTP recruits were expected to put together a proposal paper and presentation on what they felt the company could improve. The deadline was in two months — how were any of you supposed to be familiar enough with the company by then to make policy recommendations?

“Our team lead keeps saying the company needs ‘fresh eyes’,” Keeho said during your first meeting for the project a week later, already careening off topic. “She stares right into my soul whenever she says ‘fresh eyes’. It’s fucking creepy.”

“It is creepy,” Heeseung agreed, twirling his pen between his fingers.

“Do we all have our notes ready?” Ryujin asked, wrangling the meeting back on track.

Beomgyu helpfully gathered up each of your notes and passed the stack over to you. You were friendly now after that night at the bar, but there was so much tension between you two that even your team lead pointed it out.

“You’re in charge of this, right?” Beomgyu asked. You had volunteered to do the boring work of collating all of your ideas and suggestions into a draft skeleton outline for the proposal paper.

“I’ll help you,” Keeho offered, smiling at you from across the table. “I’m happy to do the auditing parts.”

Beomgyu folded his arms and leant back in his chair. “They can manage.”

You had to stop going giddy every time you saw him in a shirt and tie.

“Actually, help would be useful,” you said to Keeho, ignoring Beomgyu not because you were annoyed, but because you didn’t know what to make of his interjection. Unbeknownst to you, Beomgyu scowled.

——————————

You and Keeho had arranged to work on the report after lunch that day. Beomgyu wasn’t keeping tabs on you or anything, he just made sure to remind you that you had a 3pm advisory meeting with him the same afternoon. Yes, that was the only reason he cared about what you did with your time.

And the only reason he was hovering around by Keeho’s office cubicle was to make sure you weren’t late for the meeting. Not because you were there. Not because you were with Keeho. Not because you and Keeho kept laughing and playfully pushing each other. What could possibly be that funny, anyway?

“Can I help you?” Keeho asked Beomgyu, finally noticing his presence.

Beomgyu ignored him and looked straight at you, tapping his watch. “Let’s go. It’s 2.50.”

“Ah, already?” you mumbled, mostly to yourself, gathering your things up from Keeho’s desk. “Sorry, Keeho. I’ll finish it tonight.”

Keeho smirked as his gaze shifted from you to Beomgyu and then back to you, before he let out a quiet laugh. “Don’t worry about it; I’ll take it from here.”

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver!” You scrambled to your feet to follow Beomgyu to the lift lobby.

The meeting room was just three floors above you, and as soon as Beomgyu led you into the lifts he braced for you to ask him why he was in such a rush. It only took a minute to get there. But you didn’t; maybe you would have a couple of years ago.

——————————

Beomgyu waited until you and him were alone in the office — an hour or so after the end of the work day — when he just couldn’t take it anymore.

“There’s so much weird sexual tension between you and Keeho,” he said, trying and failing to sound casual. To both his amazement and relief, you didn’t seem to notice.

Your lips twitched, like you were about to reveal something but quickly decided against it. Beomgyu remembered when he was able to read you like an open book, but those days were now long gone and he couldn’t tell what you were thinking anymore.

“He’s hot. And tall. And he seems nice,” Beomgyu continued, unsure what he was trying to accomplish.

“I don’t really date anymore,” you blurted out, seeming to regret saying that almost immediately.

“Why not?”

You shrugged, now regaining your composure. “I… I don’t think I’d be a good partner. For anyone.”

It was Beomgyu’s turn to falter. He watched you carefully as the realisation started to sink in. The walls of the now quiet office felt like they were closing in on him. You’d blamed yourself for the breakup. He’d made you think you were too broken for love.

“Oh, god, did I do that to you?” he asked, so quiet it was nearly a whisper.

“…It was a long time ago,” you replied after what seemed like forever, a non-answer if ever there was one, glancing up from the desk and flashing him a tight-lipped smile. It didn’t even get anywhere near your eyes. “We don’t have to get into it. I’m sorry I brought it up. Like you said, we should just start over.”

He swallowed his pride and shook his head firmly. “No, I was wrong. We should talk about it. I don’t want to leave things unsaid.”

The version of him that had broken up with you would never have said that. That version of him refused to even admit when he had a headache. That version of him dumped you because he couldn’t handle you ‘always needing to talk about feelings.’ It was hard for him to stomach that fact, even all these years later.

“I don’t know- I had so many issues and I expected you to be my answer to all of them. I just figured that if even a guy like you couldn’t stand me, I was beyond redemption,” you shrugged.

Once, during a particularly hectic exam season back in university, you had completely shut yourself off from him, all your friends, even Ryujin. You didn’t talk to anyone for a week. You didn’t leave your room. You didn’t answer any of his texts or calls. He knew your parents were fighting and your rent had gone up past what you could afford and you were struggling to pass your classes. There was nothing more he wanted than to drive over to your place and hold you, to tell you everything was going to be fine, but you refused to let him.

“Do you still think that?” he asked, his throat feeling exceptionally tight.

“Maybe. I’m not sure,” you admitted.

Even back then he knew why you refused, although he wasn’t ready to admit it at the time. Whenever you did try to open up to him he would shut down, so eventually you stopped trying.

Your phone alarm went off before he could think of a response, a generic default ringtone. It used to be a recording of him quacking like a duck, because for some reason you found that hilarious and he liked doing it to cheer you up.

“I should go. My train’s coming,” you told him.

He blinked, blindsided. “Oh- okay.”

You packed your bag and stood up, walking to the lift lobby and pressing the button. Then, in a fraction of a second, you dropped the facade.

“Don’t take what I said too seriously, Gyu,” you assured him. “I’m alright now. I’m in a good place.”

He stared at your eyes, trying to decipher them, but you seemed to be telling the truth. After a second or two, he pulled his shoulders back and nodded. There was still a weight on his chest.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he smiled.

The lift doors behind you opened, and you smiled back. The weight lifted.

“See you tomorrow, Gyu.”

——————————

——————————

The GTs were meeting before the work day officially started to discuss the progress you and Keeho had made yesterday. You and Ryujin got on the train an hour earlier than usual.

“Are you gonna say yes?” she asked, after you told her Keeho had asked you out on a date yesterday. She had a slice of buttered toast in her mouth in flagrant disregard of the ‘no eating’ sign right behind her.

“I don’t know,” you groaned, dragging out your last word like a whiny child. You only acted like this in front of Ryujin. “I should, right? He’s nice.”

“I don’t think you should date people on the basis of niceness. I think you should date them based on whether you actually like them,” she said, never being one to sugarcoat the truth for you, before her eyes widened in realisation. “Don’t tell me it’s because of Beomgyu.”

“It’s not,” you said, and she gave you a knowing look. “Well, it’s not not. What if I’m broken?”

Your conversation with Beomgyu hadn’t left your head since yesterday. You were still bewildered that he’d insisted on talking to you about your breakup; it was so unlike him. Or at least the version of him you remembered.

“I don’t understand how you can take him breaking up with you the way he did as an indictment on you and not him,” Ryujin said. “He always acted like you were some big emotional burden when most of the time you were just a bit sad and needed a hug. And he couldn’t even handle that.”

——————————

Beomgyu, Heeseung, and Keeho were all already in the meeting room when you and Ryujin showed up, even though you were five minutes early yourselves.

“Keeho brought doughnuts,” Heeseung announced instead of saying ‘good morning’, pointing to the box on the table. Ryujin grinned and skipped over to the box to grab one.

“Y/N, do you want Oreo or cinnamon?” Keeho asked, checking to see which flavours were left.

Beomgyu looked up from his phone and said nonchalantly, “Y/N doesn’t like eating in the morning.” The statement was addressed to Keeho, but he looked right at you as he said it.

You stared back at him. He remembered, but of course he did, because you used to watch him eat breakfast while only nursing a giant thermos of coffee every morning. He always nagged you about not skipping ‘the most important meal of the day’, and you always insisted that that was a myth. (For the record, you were right.)

“Uh- yeah. I’m good, thanks,” you stammered after far too long a pause.

Keeho cocked an eyebrow, looking between you and Beomgyu like he had yesterday with a slight smile on his face, before taking the last cinnamon doughnut for himself.

Five minutes before nine, you wrapped up your meeting. Beomgyu and Keeho offered to stay and reset the meeting room while the rest of you hurried to your desks, until you realised you’d left your phone behind and circled back to get it. Right as you reached for the door handle, you heard something that made you freeze.

“Y/N told me you asked them out.” Beomgyu’s voice was barely muffled by the closed door.

Peeking through the tiny window of the door, you saw Keeho shrug. “I did. But I’m not holding my breath.”

“Why? They think you’re hot,” Beomgyu said.

You were so going to kill him. That little-

Keeho laughed and shook his head. “Nah, I’m doomed by the narrative.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Beomgyu asked. That was the man you recognised, defensive and immediately assuming intent to offend. You heard them walking towards the door and scrambled to hide behind the wall around the corner, holding your breath.

“Relax, man,” Keeho chuckled, opening the door. The two men walked right past you, not noticing you. “I’m just saying you should go for it.”

Beomgyu frowned. “What?”

“Yeah. No regrets, right?”

————��—————

——————————

Beomgyu was acting differently with you now. He was smiling more, joking around more. You were trying not to think about it too much — you didn’t know what it meant, and, more worryingly, you didn’t know what you wanted it to mean.

You two stayed late one Friday night to work on a presentation deck, being the only people left in the office by 8pm. You ordered kimbap and fried chicken and ate dinner together at his cubicle, balancing paper plates on your knees while he typed and you peered over his shoulder.

“This feels familiar,” Beomgyu mused, turning around to look at you. You must’ve looked like a deer in the headlights to him, because you instantly forgot whatever you were about to say when he smiled at you.

In university you had spent many a night in his apartment sitting beside him at his desk, watching him game with Heeseung (whom you only knew at that point as a disembodied voice that lived in Beomgyu’s headset). You were usually snacking on something and you’d feed him whatever it was while he was playing.

“So, did you say yes to Keeho?” Beomgyu asked, sounding flippant, but you could tell he’d been waiting for the right time to ask you that for a while.

“No, he- that’s weird,” you frowned, after you pushed the ground floor button and it failed to light up. Then, the entire lift rattled. “That’s weirder.”

He reached over your shoulder to push the button again, his hair brushing against the back of your neck. Once more, it didn’t light up. But you were worrying about other things, namely how broad his button up made his shoulders look and how good he smelt.

“Answer my question,” he pressed, all while repeatedly poking the button like an impatient toddler.

You would’ve laughed, if not for how close he was standing to you making it impossible for you to think straight. “We decided against it- are we actually stuck in here?”

It was silent for a few seconds as you looked at each other, confused. And then he began to panic.

“No, we can’t be,” he insisted, jabbing his finger at the lift button over and over so hard you thought he’d break his knuckle. His eyes were wide and his breathing was shallow and fast.

“Gyu-”

He cut you off with a loud wail and slapped his hands onto his head, throwing his back against the wall behind him and sliding down it dramatically. You bit back a laugh, the feeling of his body right by yours a second ago now a distant memory.

“We’re trapped! We’re gonna die!” he shrieked, his voice amplified by the tightness of the space you were in. The lift rattled once more.

You stifled a laugh. “Dude, chill.”

It had been nearly four years since your first date, but you still remembered it vividly. He’d brought you to a night carnival, and one of the first attractions on the itinerary was the haunted house. He confessed to you months after you started dating that it was all part of his grand plan to make you fall in love with him: that you would get scared and cling onto his bicep and he’d heroically protect you.

The actual experience went like this. You and him made it about a fifth of the way through the haunted house — with you taking the lead and him screaming bloody murder the entire time — before he tapped out and you turned back. Upon shamefully emerging from the haunted house’s entrance like a couple of quitter chickens, he sank to the floor with his head in his hands, exactly as he was right now. Of course now he was in a button up, tie, slacks, and dress shoes rather than a university sweatshirt and jeans, but the pose was nearly identical.

“I’m too young to die! But I’m too old to get on the news for dying young!” he babbled. Maybe he was delirious from the stress of the job. Ignoring the meltdown unfolding by your feet, you dialled the emergency number above the lift door and gave the man on the other end of the line your lift’s reference number.

“The maintenance guy will be here in a few minutes,” you relayed, hanging up the phone.

He took his head out of his hands and stopped screaming. “Oh. I might have overreacted.”

You laughed, joining him on the floor on the opposite side of the lift. “You think?”

It was silent for a while, save for a few odd creaks from the lift here and there. He had his legs stretched out in front of him and they looked about a billion miles long. You couldn’t really look at him too much without your heart feeling weird.

“Hey,” he started, kicking your shoe to get your attention. “What happened with Keeho?”

He was still on that.

“Nothing. We decided it wasn’t a good idea,” you answered, pausing for a moment to mull over whether you should admit to the conversation you had eavesdropped on last week. You choose to keep your mouth shut.

Beomgyu stayed silent for so long that you got over your refusal to make eye contact and looked up to see if something was wrong. He was frowning. The lift was so small and quiet you swore you could hear your own heartbeat echoing off the walls.

“It wasn’t your fault, you know? Us. How we ended,” he said, chewing nervously on his bottom lip. “I was always shutting you down when you needed to be comforted. I even said you had too many issues.”

You winced at his last sentence, words that still stung nearly three years after he’d first uttered them to you. He must have seen it on your face, because he closed his eyes and looked away.

“Maybe we both met the right person at the wrong time,” you offered, trailing off as he silently got up from his spot opposite you and sat down next to you instead. If he moved even a millimetre closer, his shoulder would’ve touched yours. You held your breath and turned to him, your face so close to his that you could count his eyelashes.

“Yeah, maybe.” He held your gaze, unwavering.

The lift rattled even louder this time, but although you jumped he didn’t even flinch. Instead, his eyes drifted down to your lips. You used to rest your head on his shoulder when you two sat next to each other like this, whether it was on his sofa or at a restaurant. It was your ‘thing’.

He leaned in, and you found yourself drawn towards him. There was something magnetic about him that seemed to pull you forward, a compulsion of sorts. He used to taste like the pomegranate lip balm you kept in your pocket that he constantly nicked because he was too lazy to buy his own. You wondered if he’d bought one for himself after you split up. His nose brushed against yours and your eyes fluttered shut.

BANG!

You jumped apart, exchanging alarmed glances at the deafening metallic clang of the lift door.

“Maintenance! You guys okay in there?”

Beomgyu recovered from the shock before you did and sputtered out an, “All good!” But he was looking only at you. Beside him you were frozen, certain you could still feel the warmth of his breath on your face.

“Stand back from the doors!” the maintenance man continued.

You scrambled to your feet first, straightening your jacket and grabbing your bag. Your face felt like it was on fire. After (in your estimation) about a billion hours, the lift doors finally parted to reveal a beaming maintenance man.

“Thank you so much, sir. Have a good night,” you rushed out, mumbling a goodbye to Beomgyu without turning to look at him. He didn’t get a chance to return the pleasantry before you were gone.

——————————

——————————

Neither of you spoke of the lift incident after that night. You acted like nothing had ever happened, and Beomgyu seemed more than happy to go along with your charade.

Your team lead had invited you both to tag along to a meeting with another company’s headquarters; neither of you had any direct involvement in the project, but he’d asked you to prepare a short presentation on your suggestions for the project anyway. It would be a good experience for you, hence why you agreed to it, but now you were starting to question your judgement.

“Are you nervous?” Beomgyu asked you under his breath as you walked down the corridor side by side to the conference room.

“Is it obvious?” you asked. Your thumb drive loaded with presentation slides was burning a hole in your pocket. Your palms were sweating, but you didn’t want to say that out loud. He’d just start rapping Eminem’s Lose Yourself at you and ruin your focus.

Truth be told, you didn’t really know why he was here — he wasn’t giving a presentation and had nothing to do with the project.

“It’s obvious to me,” he answered.

If you read into that even a little, you inferred he meant that he knew you better than other people did, that he saw more of you than they did. If you read into your own relief when he told you this morning he was coming for the meeting, you inferred having him with you made you feel more secure.

You needed to stop reading into things.

But how could you, when he checked where the air conditioning vents in the meeting room were the second he walked in so he could get you both seats far away from them, knowing you got cold easily? And how could you, when he swapped your chair with his own on instinct to give you the one without any broken wheels?

After the meeting ended, you took the train back home with him. It was a two hour ride.

“You did great,” he praised, leading the way to an empty train carriage. As he walked, he slipped his fingers under his navy blue tie, loosening the knot and popping open the top button of his shirt. You tried not to stare.

“Thanks.” You sat down in the window seat, and he took the one beside you. His shoulder touched yours. Were train seats always this narrow?

There was a part of you that wished Ryujin were here to knock some sense into you and/or crush your delusions before they became too well fleshed out, but she was starting to warm to Beomgyu more and more these days. She was even encouraging you to talk to him. Ryujin? Encouraging you to talk to Beomgyu? Maybe you’d fallen into the matrix.

——————————

“I’m on my way home. How was work?”

You hadn’t dreamt about Beomgyu in a long time, but your dreamscape’s recreation of his voice still remained accurate. Warm and melodic, with a smooth lilt that made anything he said sound poetic.

“It was alright. Are you with Y/N?”

Heeseung’s voice. Hm. Dreaming about Heeseung was weird, but not entirely out of the question. You’d gotten to know him pretty well-

“Shh, man. They’re sleeping right beside me.”

At that, you finally woke up. Your head was resting on Beomgyu’s shoulder instead of the window pane, somehow having found its way to him while you were asleep. Perhaps he’d shifted you there himself, like he used to do whenever you dozed off on the wall of yours and his favourite study booth in the back of the university library.

He didn’t notice you were awake. You kept your eyes shut and remained perfectly still.

“Have you guys talked?” Heeseung asked on the other end of the phone.

“No. What am I supposed to say? Sorry I almost kissed you, I think I’m still in love with you?” Beomgyu said quietly.

“Yeah. Literally.”

“I can’t do that, man.”

“Why not? The universe gave you a second chance. No regrets, right?”

Beomgyu was silent for a few seconds.

“Yeah, I’ll see you at home.”

He hung up without giving Heeseung a chance to reply, and you felt him shifting around as he slipped his phone into his pocket.

Still. Not that he fell in love with you again, but that he never stopped. He was still in love with you.

His hair brushed the side of your face when he turned to you and called your name softly.

“Y/N, wake up.”

You’d never been a particularly good actor, but you pretended to wake up as best as you could and hoped he didn’t see through you.

“Look,” he said quietly, even though there was no one else around, pointing out the window.

The sun was just beginning to set, glowing a brilliant warm orange and glazing the clouds around it in red and yellow. Pink streaks spanned across the sky and through the window into the train carriage.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered.

When you turned back around, Beomgyu was watching you instead of the sunset. He looked away immediately, clearing his throat and shifting around in his seat. You wondered if he was thinking of the same thing you were.

“Sorry I woke you. I didn’t want you to miss the sunset,” he mumbled. His hands sat folded awkwardly in his lap like he didn’t know what to do with them.

Still. Still?

You could count on one hand the number of times in your life you’d been well and truly speechless; this was one of them.

He seemed to mistake your silence for something else — you didn’t know what — because he turned away and dropped his gaze apologetically.

“Hey, about the other day,” he said, trailing off, “I’m sorry I made things weird.”

You weren’t going to lose him again. You’d had enough heartbreak.

“You didn’t,” you rushed out, placing your hand over his. The movement was sudden and uncoordinated, an impulsive lunge forward rather than a measured and gentle reach. “I wish I hadn’t run away like that.”

Beomgyu’s eyes were wide, his lips parted slightly in shock. You didn’t know if your words or your actions had caused that.

“Really?” His voice was all breath and no depth.

The melting light of the sunset behind you poured into the train carriage through the window, lying across his face in ribbons of gold that made his skin glow. The hue was almost indescribable, the type of colour only found during sunsets, and the colour you associated only with Choi Beomgyu.

His fingers curled up to lace themselves with yours, and you felt a coldness on your skin that gave you a jolt. It was a ring. Plain, thin, silver.

You bought him matching rings for your six month anniversary, thick patterned silver ones with intricate carvings and twisted rope trimmings. They were cheap costume jewellery — you lost your job around then and that was all you could afford — and they stained your fingers green after a few days.

You gave up and wore your ring on a chain around your neck instead, but he wore his on his index finger every day, all the way to the end. You used to call him 1% Shrek.

He squeezed your hand.

Now or never.

“I don’t want to… I don’t think I can pretend I’m not in love with you anymore,” you admitted, your heart battering against your rib cage like it was trying to burst out of your chest.

Beomgyu’s grip on your hand tightened. “Me neither,” he whispered.

You looked at him, at the softness in his brown eyes and the gentle slope of his nose. He had made all the first moves in the past. He asked you out on the first date, he initiated your first kiss, he introduced you to his friends and family first. You were done with waiting for him to lead the way.

“Can I kiss you?” you asked.

All his nerves appeared to melt away. He grinned cockily, the exact same grin he donned right before he was about to do something annoying.

“Kissing on public transport is so passé,” he said with a dramatic sigh, even though you were the only people on the train. “We aren’t horny students anymore, we’re grown adults with serious jobs-”

“There’s a juice box sticking out of your bag,” you pointed out, suppressing a laugh.

He moved towards you, his free hand coming up to rest on your cheek. Like your muscles had held onto the memory of his touch all these years, you leant into the familiar warmth of his palm.

“You make a compelling argument,” he muttered, before bringing his lips to yours.

Peppermint. He used peppermint lip balm now.

When was the last time you’d kissed? You couldn’t remember. But you remembered how it felt — the way his lips slotted perfectly between yours, his curve of his hand on your face, the angle of his shoulder exactly where you always held onto him.

When you separated, he pressed a final quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. That was his trademark; he never kissed you without doing that.

“I can’t believe you came back to me,” he said. The diffuse amber of the sunset glazed over his face, making his eyes sparkle. Something about the way he looked at you slowed your heart rate, made you feel sedated.

You ran your thumb over the ring on his index finger, now warmed from the heat of your locked hands.

“Always.”

——————————

thanks for reading!

-minastras <3

#tomorrow x together #txt #choi beomgyu #txt beomgyu #txt x reader #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu angst #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu au

[babygorewhore]

Steve Harrington has a hunting kink

Just a little Drabble with Mr Steve if you were dressed as little red riding hood and he wants to “hunt” you.

Short Drabble. No plot. Hunting! Fem! Reader. Fingering! Degrading! Just filth tbh. May possible continue this thot. Not proofread cuz it’s not a full fic. Okay enjoy.

The Halloween party was so crowded you knew no one missed you rushing out of the back door. Your boyfriend was dressed as a wolf, but without the mask now because of his hair. You were red riding hood.

Your costume was smaller than you expected. Shorter. But the little basket was filled with candy. Steve’s favorite. Red was his favorite color and the same colored cape rushed around your back as you started moving quickly across the backyard.

“Run.” He whispered in your ear, hand up your skirt while you were pushed against the wall. “A game for us since you wanna dress like a little whore for me.” Steve’s brown eyes had turned black with desire.

He loved public sex. And so did you.

It was cold outside, your nipples hardened impossibly as you checked over your shoulder for him. Basket in hand as you maneuvered around trees. Steve was faster than you, you could have sworn you heard leaves crunching as you tried to get away. He only gave you a few seconds head start.

“Where’s my little red…” you heard him call out in the dark. You gasped and moved hurriedly.

“Mmm…do you really think you can run away from me? Your legs probably are getting tired.” Steve mocked you.

You darted around the shed before entering the back door. It was almost pitch black but you could make out the tools and unwanted objects. You were almost out of breath. You hunkered down next to a wooden table, eager with energy. You wanted him to find you. You wanted to be his little toy. You wanted him to use you.

The door slowly opened and you held your breath. Your black shoes squeaked as you squatted down.

“I know you’re in here, little red. Such a dumb little hiding place. You think you can hide from me?” Steve wondered, tapping the metal as he took his time approaching you.

“Bet you’re fucking dripping right now. Waiting for me to find you? You looked so pathetic running out of the party, you know? Everyone knew I was gonna have to come find you.” His voice was raspy and he passed by you. His blue jeans tight and his black leather jacket shining in the dark.

He disappeared and you exhaled.

“Got you.”

Hands yanked you upward and you shrieked as Steve pinned you against the nearest wall. His hand wrapped around your neck, forcing your chin up so you look directly into his dark eyes. “There’s my girl…”

He shoved his free hand down, fingers snaking past your underwear and gathering the dripping slick. “You’re this wet? All from me chasing you down?” Steve pulled his fingers back, inserting them past his lips.

“You taste as desperate as you look.” You gripped his head and shove your mouth against his.

You chase his tongue with your own, inhaling his taste as he ripped off your panties completely. You wanted to whine because you spent good money on this costume. But all complaints fell flat as he filled you up with three thick fingers. His lips falling to your neck, leaving heated kisses before he sucked at the juncture of your shoulder and collarbone.

You moaned and clutched his back as he circled his fingers, playing with your clit and the deep spot only he could get too.

“God, you’re clenching around me. Don’t want me to stop, huh? Need me to fuck your pussy?” He said against your ear as white hot pleasure made your eyes squeeze shut.

“Steve-fuck-I’m gonna cum-“You could barely get out the words as he thrusted his hand. Your wetness making his motions easier.

“Cum for me. Be a good girl and cum for me. I need to see how much you need this, little red.”

That was all the push you needed as your hips rolled. Your stomach clenched before releasing, you panted as your high made you hot, cum spilling all over Steve’s knuckles that were still deep inside you. You rode out your orgasm and Steve still wasn’t stopping.

“Steve-please-I get it I lost-but please-“

He removed his fingers, a quiet wet sound coming from in between your legs and he started removing his belt. Steve smirked, his lips swollen from his smug victory.

“You know the rules. I find you too quickly and I get to make you cum how many times I want.”

Tagging my Steve lovers.

@xxhellfirebunnyxx @take-everything-you-can @monstxrteeth @chrrymunson @emsgoodthinkin @reidsbtch and whoever I forgot pls in all good faith reblog cuz this is my first Stevie Thot @slvt4jamesmarch @scene-and-dandylover @elaine-in-the-membrane

#steve harrington #steve Harrington smut #Steve Harrington reader #Steve Harrington imagine #Steve Harrington fem reader #Steve Harrington fanfic #stranger things smut #Steve Harrington Drabble

[baaby-honeyy]

is it okay if I could ask for a toxic Harry one shot with more softer tones? like maybe he could be rlly rude to her and toxic at first but then softens up later on. :)

Mittens

A/N: i know i’ve been gone for a while, but i read everything you guys send me. me and my sister are so busy with work and our family sucks, so i wasn’t too motivated. but i know you guys don’t wanna hear about that. you wanna reeeeaddd. so please, enjoy. also this is a one-shot i think.

TW: toxic/mean/soft!harry, innocent/crybaby!y/n, fluff, angst, curse words. if there’s something i didn’t list, please tell me. 💗

SUMMARY: The sidewalk you’re walking on begins to blur away with your tears. You walk with your head down, looking at your shoes as you walk. Harry’s gripping your arm, dragging you away from the thing you couldn’t stop asking him about. With your eyebrows furrowed, you try to understand why Harry just wouldn’t say yes. He gets you mostly everything you could ever want, and if doesn’t want you to have it, you’ll just have to accept it. While it took some time, you’ve gotten used to his rules and you’re grateful for Harry. But you just couldn’t let this go.

Harry sits across from you with his arms crossed, his emerald green eyes locked on you. You’re eating at his favorite Asian restaurant, slurping up the noodles he ordered for you. Harry didn't place an order for him; on days like this, when he pampers you all day long, he rarely does. He’s more than fine with that, though. He loves to see you eating and happy with what he gives you.

As you eat, you’re unaware of the black bean sauce that’s now coated your lips and cheeks, almost getting on the white sundress Harry bought you. He watches, his eyebrows slightly raised as you continue eating. He waits for you to notice the mess you’ve made, but after a few moments he grabs a napkin and calls you harshly. In one harsh movement, Harry grabs your chin, forcing your cheeks to squish together. Noodles pour out of your mouth. Your eyes grow big and wide as you stare up at Harry, who’s now pulling out his phone with his free hand.

“Wha?” You try to say when he points the phone at you, but Harry tells you to be quiet as soon as you open your mouth. The flash goes off, and Harry smiles cunningly to himself and puts his phone back in his pocket. With noodle and sauce spilling out of your mouth, you whimper at Harry, and he uses the napkin to clean you.

“Harry-”

Once you notice Harry's face getting angrier, you hesitate.

“Harry, I-”

“Shh. S’fine. Just remember what I told you about table manners, okay?” Harry tells you, his voice deep while in a reassuring tone. You nod your head at his orders and pick up your chopsticks once again.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I just really love these noodles, thank you so much for bringing me here!” As you get a good amount of noodles in your chopsticks, you can’t help your smile as you think of the sweet, savory taste of the noodles on your tongue again. Harry smiles at the sight of you, and continues to watch you eat.

“Harry, do you think we can come back here tomorro- LOOK!” You interrupt yourself with a loud, dramatic gasp, pointing outside the window. Before Harry can even blink, you’re standing on the seat with your knees, palms pressed against the cold window.

“What are you-” Harry begins, but is over-powered by your loud rambling.

“Harry, I’m gonna go outside and pet it! I’ll be right back- awww! It’s sooo cute! I’ll be one sec!”

“Pet what? No, Y/n. Get back here- Y/n!” Harry attempts to grab your arm, but you’re already out of reach.

“Bye!!” And just like that, the doorbell rings as you leave out the building, leaving Harry clueless and even more annoyed than before. He looks out the window, scoffs at the handprints you left, and looks for you before deciding to head out there with you.

Your knees begin to hurt from kneeling on the rough concrete, but you choose to ignore the pain. The only thing you care about now is the small Calico kitten that’s getting cozy in your arms. The kitty suckles on a worn-out blue mitten and drapes it from his teeth before placing it gently on your leg. He whimpers and purrs, rubbing his head onto your chest. Your eyes grow big as you gasp, feeling more connection towards the kitten.

“What the fuck did I tell you? Don’t go anywhere without telling me. Do you hear me? This is a main road, Y/n.” You gasp at Harry’s sudden booming voice, and watch as he stomps towards you with a look of extreme annoyance.

“What’s this?”

“A kitten, H! A calico kitten! Say meow!” Holding the kitten up to Harry, you take one of his paws pand make it wave at him. Harry expression remains the same.

“Get up.” He grabs your arm and lifts you up, rolling his eyes as you whine in disobedience.

“Why must I always repeat the rules to you? Are you too dense to remember them? Hm? Is that it?” Harry’s grip gets tighter as he speaks, but he lets go once he looks down to see tears filling your wide eyes.

“What? Do you want me to tell you that you can take it home? It’s not going to happen.”

“Wha- why? He won’t bother you! I promise I’ll take care of him-”

“No.” Harry says, almost immediately regretting it, though, as he sees the tears now flowing down your cheeks. Your lip quivers, as you look down at the kitten the best you can through your tears.

Harry sighs, before wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his chest.

“I know, Baby. Don’t cry. Just don’t want you to get sick, okay? It’s cute, but we don’t know where this kitten has been. Put it down and we can get your favorite ice cream, yeah?”

When you don’t answer, Harry kisses the top of your head, before leaning down slightly so he can shower the rest of your face with kisses.

“Y’want more kisses? Huh? Is that what’s gonna make you feel better?” Harry’s voice is low like a whisper, kissing you soft and gentle in hopes you’ll let the whole cat thing go.

“Gonna give you all the kisses you want when we get home, okay?”

You close your eyes and whimper into Harry’s touch, and you almost give in, but the Calico’s adorable face can’t leave your mind. You look back to see the kitten licking his paws, and back up at Harry.

“Harry, please. I want him..” You say lowly, followed by a long sigh from Harry.

“I know. I don’t think you’ll be able to handle it, Baby. Maybe in the future if I-”

“In the future? But Harry, the future’s so long from now! What if this kitten is gone by then?

“We’ll find another one.”

“But what if-”

“Y/n. For fuck’s sake, get over it! You’re not getting the fucking kitten.” Harry says, grabbing your arm again, and dragging you down the side walk.

Which brings you to your impossible situation.

The sidewalk you’re walking on begins to blur away with your tears. You walk with your head down, looking at your shoes as you walk. Harry’s gripping your arm, dragging you away from the thing you couldn’t stop asking him about. With your eyebrows furrowed, you try to understand why Harry just wouldn’t say yes. He gets you mostly everything you could ever want, and if doesn’t want you to have it, you’ll just have to accept it. While it took some time, you’ve gotten used to his rules and you’re grateful for Harry. But you just couldn’t let this go.

“Stop crying already.” Harry spits out. His voice was sharp and he spoke quick, like he was already tired of hearing you complaining. You whine at his harshness, and stop your feet in attempt to get him to let go of you.

“You don’t even get me gifts anymore.” You say, your voice strained from how much your struggling. Harry turns around so quick, eyebrows furrowed in a mix of disbelief and annoyance.

“I buy you something new every fuckin’ week. Stop being spoiled.” He shoots back, before continuing to drag you back to the car. You only continue to protest and stomp your feet, making Harry’s grip on you tighten even more.

“No. You already have enough things lying around the house. Y’think I wanna buy you a living pet? Already got you to bother me."

“Har-, please! It’s just a kitten!” Your throat begins to close as you cry harder. You see Harry scoff through your blurry vision. Harry shakes his head slightly while pinching the bridge of his nose.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ annoying.” Harry mutters under his breath, before wrapping his arms around you. You don’t think anything of it, until his arms tighten around your waist, and he pulls you up onto his shoulder. Harry keeps a hand on your butt, to keep your dress from blowing up with the wind. The only thing you can see is his lower shirt, and the concrete beginning to move again as he walks.

The feeling of defeat begins to rise up in you, and you were about to give up, until you saw that cute Calico cat begin to follow you. He was the most cutest thing you could ever look at, so small and cute just like you. You thought for sure Harry would let you have him, and hearing say no repeatedly just broke your little heart.

Harry’s car was just a few blocks down. All he needed to do was get you in there and take you to an ice cream place. It works every time, when you won’t take no for an answer. Except Harry didn’t know how much this cat meant to you, and it wouldn’t just take your favorite ice cream to make you forget.

“N-no! Put me down, Harry! Put me down!” You thrash and kick your legs around in the air, pounding your fists at Harry’s back. He tries to ignore you at first, but quickly gets annoyed at your screaming and whining. Before you know it, you’re back on your own two feet staring up at Harry’s narrowed eyes.

“You don’t know when to shut your fuckin’ mouth, huh? Y’want to walk by yourself? Fine. Don’t come cryin’ to me when your feet starts to hurt, even though I’m the one who warned you that would happen if you wore those shoes.” Harry spits out, pointing down at your white MaryJanes. You look down too, staring at your white and pink frilly socks you chose.

“I’m not going to let you walk by yourself, Y/n. Just be a good girl and walk beside me, yeah? Can you do that f’me?” Harry nods slightly while he speaks, waiting for you to do the same. His tolerance for you is obviously diminishing. If he was asked to be completely honest, he would say that you don’t need a cat. He already has you to take care of, and most of the time you’re distracted by something else, so you probably wouldn’t even have to patience to take care of a cat.

You look up at him pleadingly, hoping in your heart that Harry will suddenly change his mind. The car wasn’t too far from here, and the kitten could be anywhere now. Eventually, you slowly nod your head in compliance, and Harry gives you few kisses on the top of your head for behaving.

“That’s my good girl. C’mon, little baby. Gonna get you ice-”

“Harry, look! He’s over there! I’m gonna go get him!”

Before Harry can process, your running straight for the cat, who’s across the street. Your little brain, too excited for its own good, can’t even see the traffic coming.

"Y/N— Fuck!" For Harry, everything—the cars, the people walking by, and even you—moved slowly. He didn’t even think he had enough time to grab you. You were already off the curb and into the street. Adrenaline pumps in Harry’s veins, momentum picks up in his feet, giving him enough time wrap an arm around your waist. As you scream at the unexpected touch, Harry quickly grabs you and drags you away from the street.

You try to pry Harry’s arm off of you, but he just wouldn’t let go.

“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?”

As soon as Harry's voice can be heard, everyone in the street looks in your direction. When he speaks, his voice is shaky and breathy, like he can’t catch his breath.

“ANSWER ME!”

Harry’s veins pop out of his neck as he screams, his eyes bloodshot from what just happened. He never experienced such intense fear. If there is even a slight chance that you were injured or worse, he wouldn't know where to start when it came to moving on. You’re far too important.

Now that you're fully sobbing, your chest is heaving with fear from the recent event. "I just-"

“Just.. shut up. Don’t talk.” Harry interrupts, then decides against listening to what you have to say. He grabs your wrist and yanks you to the car. He opens the car with the remote and immediately throws you in the backseat, instead of letting you sit with him upfront like he usually does.

“Wait-” You try to say, but Harry slams the door in your face. He walks to the drivers seat and immediately starts the car. From the backseat, you could see just how scared Harry was. You never see this in him, he’s always sarcastic and arrogant, but pleasing and sweet. Never scared. Harry fails to hide his frightened expression in the mirror.

The ride back home was torture. There was nothing said between you two, and the only thing heard was Harry’s deep sighs every few minutes. In any car ride with Harry, you could never be bored. He’d always find someway to keep you entertained, wether it was playing iSpy with you or talking about how much he loves you. This car ride was the complete opposite. You almost started to cry because the silence was so loud.

When you got back home, Harry didn’t let you in first, or even look back to see if you entered the house. He callously throws the car keys on the kitchen counter, and makes his way up the stairs.

“If you thought you were getting that kitten then, you’re definitely not getting it now.” Harry says in a mumble, but loud enough so he knows you hear him. The next thing you heard was the bedroom door slam shut, leaving you and your fuzzy brain all alone to overthink.

You contemplate whether to go in there and talk to Harry, but the look in his eyes when he was unlocking the front door- they were red and puffy, and his trembling made it harder to open the door. Ultimately, you decide that the couch was the best idea. You lay down on the couch and put your comfort show on the TV, trying your best to get rid of that guilty feeling in your chest.

When you wake, the first thing you see is you and Harry's bed sheets.

The bright morning sun awakes you from your sleep. It takes you a while to realize that you’re no longer on the couch, you’re on you and Harry’s bed, completely tucked in and under the warm covers. You notice that your sundress from yesterday has been replaced with only Harry’s t-shirt. With your eyes almost shut from the bright sun, you do your best to look on the bed and around the room for any sign of Harry. You let out a little whine when you see he’s nowhere in the room, and force yourself to get up.

Halfway down the stairs, you hear mutters of curse words and sighs coming from the floor below.

“Harry?” You speak softly, trying to assure Harry with your voice that you won’t be disobedient. There’s no answer, and when you reach the end of the stairs, you see nobody in the living room or the kitchen. Confused, and mind still fuzzy from sleep, you trudge around the house in hopes to find Harry.

“C’mon, right there, -fuck-” From the backyard, there is a faint sound, and your brows furrow in confusion as you try to understand the words.

“C’mon, that’s right, stay right there. Good girl.”

Those words make you gasp, and your thoughts start to stray in unwanted directions. The words continue to be said, and you wish that you wouldn’t have disobeyed Harry yesterday. You wish you were better for him, because now someone else is pleasing him, like you were supposed to. Your heart sinks as you race to the back door, and open it as fast as you can.

“Harry!” You say as you slam the door open, startling Harry from what he was doing. Only his lower half is visible, the other being concealed by the wall. He comes from the corner and sees you, tears running down your cheeks, and your stuffed animal in one hand.

“Baby?”

That sinking feeling immediately vanishes when you see Harry.

“You’re up.” Harry says, casually holding two Calico cats in both hands. He’s smiling awkwardly and wide, waiting for you to give him a response. You can’t, you just stand there, mouth slightly open and eyes wide.

“B-but you said-”

“Forget what I said, baby. S’not what I meant.” Harry interrupts you, and speaks softly so you know he’s not angry with you about last night. He sets the cats down in the crate that you have no idea where he got it from, and brings his attention to you.

“Was out since like four AM tryna find that cat again. Turns out he has a sis-”

Harry’s cut off by you rushing into his arms, hugging him as tight as you can.

“Thank you so much, Harry!”

“You’re welcome, Baby. Both kept running off, it took so long just to grab them-”

“I love you, I love you, I love you!” You say, voice muffled into his chest. You feel the vibration in his chest as he laughs. He takes a handful of your hair in his fist and slightly pulls it back just enough for you to look up at him.

“You know I love you too. But disobeying me isn’t the way to get what you want.”

You silently shudder to yourself and try to avoid thinking about how you behaved yesterday. You’re surprised Harry’s not even mad anymore. Usually when you act out, he’s not so forgiving this quick.

“I know I wasn’t the best yesterday either,” Harry starts, his voice low as he admits what he was doing wrong.

“Shouldn’t have scolded you like that. I know you just don’t know any better and yelling at you wasn’t the answer. Just made my baby cry.”

Staring up at Harry, who’s visibly upset with what he’s done, you step up in your tippy toes to kiss him gently on the forehead.

“I’m okay, Harry. I-I shouldn’t have ran into the street-” With your gaze completely avoiding Harry’s stare, you try hard to finish your sentence without sobbing.

“And I’m really, really s-”

“I know, Kitten.”

“Huh?” You ask, still avoiding Harry’s gaze at you.

“I know you’re sorry, Baby..”

Harry pauses, as he doesn’t know wether to tell you this, or just leave it as something only he knows.

“You were crying in your sleep..” Harry fights the urge to look down too. He knows if he wouldn’t have been so harsh in you about Mittens in the first place, you would’ve never acted out, and Harry has known you long enough to know that you don’t know any better.

“Poor baby was cryin’ in her sleep.. I’ve never felt more shame in my life. How could I make such a sweet girl cry?” Harry speaks, more to himself than to you, as he looks off into the backyard, and than back towards you.

“I’m so, so, sorry..” You say in a whisper, almost choking the horrible feeling rising in your throat.

“Mm,” Harry mumbles, taking his hand and caressing you cheek with it to get you to calm down, as he sees you’re already out of breath with emotion. You can’t help but shudder at his new stern tone when he starts talking again.

“Understand that you have to be careful, Y/n. I know I made the mistake of just scolding you, and yelling at you, but when you ran into the street..”

Harry pauses.

“You know I would be lost without you.” He takes another pause, like he knows once he starts talking he won’t be able to stop until it’s all out. But he decides, that’s okay. As long as you know how vital you are.

“There quite literally is no other you. I-I can't replace you, Y/n. And I know I'm an ass, and I’m arrogant and annoying ninety percent of the time, but, know that you're all I have. You have to be careful, Y/n. Jus' be careful for me, alright? Jus' bear that in mind.”

Harry’s voice remains in a low rhythm. Cool fingertips slide across your cheek as he takes in every detail of your face, his gaze full of longing and remorse. And, as you saw for the first time before, fear.

You don't realize that when you glance up at Harry, another melancholy expression has crept upon your face, and tears have risen in your eyes. Harry’s own eyes dilate at you, and he smooths his thumb across your furrowed brow.

“You’re not in trouble, baby. S’okay.”

Harry’s eyes flicker back and forth between yours, and he gently leans in to kiss your nose. The kiss was so light and sweet, like the kiss of a butterfly, making you feel warm inside.

“Don’t you wanna play with your kittens?” Harry asks, his voice light and inviting. You immediately nod your head frantically, as if you couldn’t wait any longer. Sitting down on the grass, you grab both cats and sit them in your lap. The boy immediately begins to cherish you, waving his tail in your face and purring. The girl, however, isn’t too fond of you yet. She turns away from you, and wanders the backyard.

“What’re you gonna name them?” Harry asks, grabbing a chair and sitting down in front of you. You pause at his question, trying your hardest to think of names that suit these cats.

“I dunno. This one will be Mittens,” You start, scratching under the cat’s chin, making him purr and his eyes dilate.

“Because when we found each other, he was chewing on a blue mitten!”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh at you, because you were so happy now that you got what you wanted. He knows he can’t always continue to spoil you, but when your his good girl (he won’t admit it, but even when you’re bad), he can never say no.

“And the girl?”

“She’ll be.. she’ll be..” The words don’t come out. Your fuzzy little brain, only filled with excitement, just gives up. Harry gives a sympathetic pout at your confusion before speaking.

“S’fine baby, you can decide later. Wanna bring ‘‘em inside?”

Whipping your neck up at Harry, your eyes go big at the opportunity you never thought you’d have.

“Yes!! Thank you so much!!” You say, practically screaming at how excited you are. You begin to pick up Mittens, but you stop once you hear Harry’s voice.

“Woah, before you go, what’re you forgetting?”

A gasp escapes your mouth at Harry’s sudden harsh tone. His face is completely straight, with not a hint of emotion. Your brain goes crazy at what you could’ve forgotten this time. Looking at Harry only made it worse for you, as he’s sitting back on the chair with his legs spread wide, green eyes locked on yours. You take him in, looking at every part of him, until you just.. move.

Practically jumping in to Harry’s lap, you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss his soft, plump lips. His eyes go wide at you, but quickly close as he feels he feels your mouth move with his. He tried to keep the kiss going for longer, but he couldn’t contain his laughter, and you couldn’t either. Even you are surprised at your sudden confidence.

“Haha, good girl! That’s not what I meant, but good girl. Was talkin’ about the crates, baby. Gotta take responsibility.” Answering with an obedient nod, you wrap your arms more tightly around Harry’s neck. You and Harry kiss a few more times, before he gently taps the side of your thighs as a signal for you to hop off his lap. When you do, Harry grabs the girl cat, and you grab Mittens.

You head back towards the door, Harry letting you in first. You reach the living room and begin to set Mittens down, but pause and look for Harry. You give him a pleading look, your eyes asking him if it’s okay to let the cats play here.

He gives you a small nod of approval, smiling at how obedient you’re being. You set down Mittens, and Harry sets down the girl cat. As soon as Mitten’s paws hit the floor, he wanders around curiously with his sister. You watch them go for a few moments before following them.

“Wait up, Mittens!” You say, as if he can understand you. Mittens watches you catch up, and you gently pick him up in your arms. Sitting back down, you place Mittens in your lap again and begin to pet his soft fur. Once you scratch underneath his chin, he closes his eyes and purrs, leaning into your touch.

Now sitting on the couch, Harry is just staring at the kitten and you. How could he have deprived you of something like this? You look so happy with the kitten, and the feeling of guilt begins to rise in him the more he looks at you. Regardless of how Harry acted earlier, happiness and contentment is all he could want for you. There’s no doubt that you’re spoiled, though. You always get what you want from Harry eventually, and he wonders if you knew that this whole time.

Harry laughs gently to himself at the sight of your smile and the sound of your giggles. You look up at him, his gaze locked on you and the kitten as he remains leaned back on the couch.

“What ya lookin at, Harry?” You ask between enthusiastic giggles.

“M’ lookin at my girl, my spoiled girl. Who told you that you can get whatever you want, hm? Was that my doing?”

With you and Harry’s gazes still locked on each other’s, you laugh before answering, as you pet Mittens.

“It’s all your fault, Harry!”

“Right, baby. S’all my fault.” Harry responds, getting off the couch and beginning to sit down on the floor next to you. He pauses midway so he can kiss your head gently. You pat the spot next to you so Harry can sit, and the girl cat, who’s done wandering now, warily makes her way towards Harry.

The girl cat hesitates for a moment before tentatively biting and chewing on his index finger, still not particularly amused. He takes the opportunity to touch her again, and when he does, she immediately begins purring and meowing in response to the touch. Harry and you both chuckle at her response.

Even with the little time Harry’s spent with the kittens, he can understand what made you want them so badly. The way you purr when you get what you want, the way you whine when you don’t, and how you’re constantly begging for his attention all reminds him of a kitten. That’s why he began calling you one in the first place.

“Reminds me of someone.”

“Who?” You ask, voice high and curious. Harry doesn’t respond right away, choosing his words before speaking.

“Who’s my Kitten?”

When you don’t answer right away, Harry repeats his question.

“Who’s my good little Kitten?”

You answer with a wide, gushing smile, holding Mittens up to your cheeks as you do.

“S’ right, Baby. Now you got some Kittens of your own. Think you’re ready? It’s a really big respons-”

Harry accidentally cuts himself off with a yawn, tiredly ruffling his hair as he does. He blinks his eyes a few times too, not being able to see clearly.

“M’ sorry, Baby. Like I said, only slept like thirty minutes yesterday. I’m gonna stay up and watch you play, though, alright? Don’t wanna miss this.”

You nod unseemly, continuing to play with your new kitties, while Harry takes a seat back on the couch. The way that Mittens loves on you makes you feel so warm and happy. You get easily lost in your happiness, and time just slips from your mind.

Your head shoots up when you hear soft snores come from above you. Harry lays fallen back against the couch, and his mouth slightly open as he breathes heavily. His hair is ruffled completely, and his brows are creased with discomfort.

Gently and quietly, you set Mittens down and tip toe towards Harry. You bring a gentle hand towards his cheek, slightly rubbing him so he wakes up.

Harry’s eyes shoot up at you, and across the living room as he processes where he is.

“F-fuck, I’m sorry, Baby. I thought I could-”

“Harry,” You interrupt, a frown appearing on your face, which contagiously gives Harry one too, at the sight of yours. You’re visibly upset, because you know the lengths Harry will go through to make sure you always get what you want. The fact that he’ll stay up just to watch you play makes you feel even more guilty.

“You have to sleep,” You say in a low whisper, being mindful of how sleepy Harry is. He slowly makes his way off the couch, stopping and yawning before completely getting up. You two begin to head up the stairs, but you stop once you see Mittens and his sister carefully follow behind you.

“I know you don’t want them on the bed, but can we at least bring the crates in the room so they won’t be lonely?” You beg as politely as you can, mentally cringing at the thought of Harry saying no. You won’t cry though, because you know you’ve asked a lot of Harry today.

“What?” You hear Harry say, his voice deep, and almost incoherent with sleepiness. "No, leave the crates," and your stomach drops. Despite your disappointment, you start to let it go as you look down.

“They can sleep with us.” Harry grabs both cats, who were silently cleaning each other below you. Mentally throwing a party, you smile gratefully and begin to walk up the stairs with Harry and the cats.

After Harry places the cats on your large, plush bed, he begins changing out of the clothing he was still wearing from yesterday. The cats immediately begin to explore, delicately pulling at the covers with their claws. You assist Harry with changing his clothes because he was too worn out to manage it himself. He initially resisted a little, insisting he was alright, but after repeatedly stumbling and swearing, he gave up.

“Look at you, takin’ care of me for a change,” Harry smirks at you followed by a yawn, while you giggle.

“Mm, thank you, Baby.” When you’re done, Harry grants you with a kiss on the nose as a thank you.

Once you’re finished, you and Harry crawl in bed together, and Harry brings you up close to his chest, kissing your head just before his eyes flutter shut.

“Are you happy, Y/n?” He asks, voice getting husky with sleepiness.

“Mhm! I love you so much. I still can’t believe I have Mittens!” You say, not being able to contain the excitement in your voice. Harry only laughs lightly, kissing your head once more.

“Mm… Good. Than so am I.”

With you in Harry’s chest, Mittens laying by your shoulder, and his sister laying by your feet, you and Harry begin to fall into slumber. You couldn’t be any happier.

A/N~ what should the female cat’s name be?🐈 i hope you enjoyed, and please leave name suggestions if you want to. <3 thanks for reading! and yes, ruin part 2 is coming very very soon. like sooner than soon, lol.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagines #imagines #female reader #dom!harry #innocent reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles one shot #sub!reader #cats #kitten #writers on tumblr #fanfics #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #baby honey #baabyhoneyy

[phantasmiac]

best friends brother!touya who has had his eye on you longer than you realize

cw/tw: reader is in college, reader is 18 and touya is 19, one mention of touya smoking, fluffy fluffy fluffy

wc: 2.3k

a/n: this is part two of my bfb!touya au. part one can be found here.

if there was one thing that had always prevented your crush on touya from being a total cliche, it was the fact that you had a good relationship. you were never reduced to being just his baby sister's equally babyish friend, there to ignore or treat like a nuisance. whether he really knew it or not, touya was your friend, too; and you were his.

it’d be inaccurate, however, to describe your current predicament as a “friends” quarrel. it might even be inaccurate to call something so one-sided a quarrel at all. all you know for sure is that touya’s been giving you the silent treatment for far too long, and you’re going to do something about it.

after weeks of avoiding you and his own house, he’s forced to reappear for shouto’s birthday (although you think rei repeatedly asking him if fuyumi is now her oldest child during their daily phone calls should also be credited). it’s meant to be a small celebration between the family that they all insist you’re a part of. shouto has plans to spend the rest of the evening with his new school friends.

“you still friends with the little shit that looks like he bites, shou?” touya asks while rummaging through the kitchen drawer for candles, unbothered by rei’s soft swat on the back of his head and hissing of his name. it’s the second one he’s received from her since he’s arrived, the first having been provoked by a new tattoo taking up a large portion of the side of his neck (needless to say, it made you feel a bit delusional for thinking you were entirely to blame for his lack of visits).

despite his crappy description, shouto understands enough to mumble an “mhm”.

“what about the one with the freckles? he’s a good kid. i’d keep him around if i were you.”

“thank god we have such an upstanding citizen for a brother,” natsuo teases, large enough to ruffle his big brothers white head of hair while he’s still sat. “share some more of your wis— get off of me!”

touya’s interest has shifted to putting natsuo in a headlock, wrestling him to the ground in a competition he’s bound to lose, if their past scuffles have anything to say about it. the box falls from his hold, spilling dozens of multicolored candles all over the kitchen floor. the sounds of the sticks crunching and breaking under shoes puts a halt to their little match.

touya pulls away, unaware that you’re already crouched under the table trying to recover the salvageable candles yourself. it’s his hand landing on top of your smaller ones that alerts him, eyes shooting up to meet yours like a deer caught in headlights. the constrictions of the tight space causes you to nearly knock face first into one another. despite the proximity, you’re suddenly reminded that you’re not nearly as close as you were weeks ago, when your tongues were down each others throats.

it takes all your willpower not to squeal from embarrassment as you squirm your way out from underneath the table, body running dangerously hot. it’s ironic, you think, that you’re the first to back away after begging for a chance to be near him again all this time; but more so the fact that touya is the one left with a sad, longing expression on his face when he stands.

light snow is falling by the time shouto’s celebration comes to an end, accompanied by bitter cold weather. kind of depressing, but touya figures that’s just how his oddball little brother would like it. it’s only four thirty in the afternoon, but the lamps lined along the pathway in front of the todoroki household are already on. his black down jacket is zipped all the way to his nose, hood struggling against the unruliness of his hair. the crunching of the snow underneath his boots brings him a nice calm — ruined by the sound of your warm voice.

normally, your shouts of his name were more than welcome. but given the circumstances, he can’t help but feel a sense of impending doom. he turns on his heel to see you running down the yard without a care in the world, and fights the urge to yell at you to be careful (though the thought of you slipping and landing on your butt is kind of endearing too). by the time you reach him, you’re out of breath. it comes as no surprise to the creep who’d spectated you in the past during your high school sports festivals.

“touya,” you pant, hand on his shoulder. “walk me home, will you?”

you’re cruel. it’s a request he can’t say no to; you might as well have put a gun to his head. there’s a sadistic, pleased little grin on your face as you start waddling alongside him. touya figures it shouldn’t be too difficult taking you home without sparing a word; you only live about ten minutes away. what’s ten more minutes after weeks of keeping this up?

he fails to take into account that having you this close strips him of all immunity to your charm, especially when you look this adorable. you look well prepared for an expedition to the antarctic, in your oversized puffer jacket, winter mittens, gloves and scarf. all the bundles practically swallow you whole, only leaving your cute little face exposed.

there’s students roaming the streets, probably heading home from their after school clubs. you’re people watching; touya knows you’ve always had a knack for that. he quickly averts the side gaze he’s had on you when he notices your head turning up towards him.

“did you ever realize how popular you were in high school?” there’s a hint of nostalgia in your voice.

you receive a shrug in response. “not really.”

“everyone in my year was in love with you,” you chuckle into your scarf.

touya’s eyebrow quirks up. everyone? even you? he wills himself not to say. your new boyfriend probably wouldn’t like that.

but your power over him must have upgraded to telepathy, because you proceed to answer his question. “even i was a victim to the touya disease, you know.”

“oh yeah?” even if he can’t steady his heart rate, he’ll maintain his cool.

“oh yeah. i think everyone would agree it was hard crushing on someone who didn’t even know they existed.”

touya digs his face deeper into his jacket, hands curled tighter in his pockets.

“right.”

touya’s ears pick up on your voice before he actually sees you for the first time. just standing in the school library is enough to send shivers down his edgy spine, but he’s willing to make the sacrifice to wait around for his buddy, who’s been forced into tutoring sessions. he’s made himself busy scanning through the aisles for books that pique his interest, a safe distance from the tables where you and his friend had agreed to meet up.

“hey, that’s alright! even i struggled learning this at first. you’ll get the hang of it in no time. i believe in you.”

touya snorts. he can imagine his friend currently trying to dig his fingers into his eyeballs. but even funnier is the sweet voice you're using and your gentle words of encouragement. most people fearfully trip over their own feet and fumble their words at the mere sight of his group of friends: yet you’re treating the scariest looking one of the group like a grade schooler learning his times tables.

touya had promised to make himself invisible while waiting around; his friend was already humiliated by just the prospect of needing tutoring. but his curiosity always came out victorious, and he’s soon peeking from behind the shelves just to catch a tiny glimpse of you.

your pretty face matches your voice.

the next time touya catches a glimpse of you, your back is turned to him. he’s performing his regular routine of sneaking out of his p.e. class in order to head to the bathroom for a smoke. you’re walking down the halls with your headphones in, completely oblivious to the presence behind you, and through the silence he can faintly hear the instrumental of whatever it is you’re listening to. he knows it’s a shitty thing to make judgements about someone he’s never even had a conversation with, but he can’t help but think whatever’s playing in your headphones is far different from what he’d expect someone as soft as you to listen to. he’s able to make out the sounds of heavy drums and electric guitar riffs. it’s as if you lived to surprise him, he thinks, when you start whispering the lyrics to the song; one that’s been on nearly all of his playlists.

touya thinks the universe is trying to get him arrested when he finds himself coincidentally trailing behind you on the way home a week later. he also thinks you should have more concern for your safety, seeing as you could’ve had a full fledged stalker at this point and had no idea. five minutes into your journey home, he watches as you come to a stop under a lamp post, and reach into your backpack. maybe you’re finally taking out pepper spray, or a pocket knife, touya guesses (and secretly hopes). instead, you pull out a can of food, kneeling down and placing it in front of a nearby bush. there’s a rustling and the sound of a meow before a stray ball of fluff comes running out, circling and rubbing his head against you in familiarity before indulging in your offering. as he watches you coo and gently scratch around the cats ears, touya comes to a conclusion: he has a fat crush on you.

for the next year, touya’s attempts at doing anything about his crush on you don’t surpass staring at you from afar for no more than three seconds at a time; and that was just fine for him. leave it to his little siblings to screw it all up. granted, the last of his siblings he would have expected to act as the agent of chaos was fuyumi. the day he came home to find you sitting at his kitchen table and giggling with his little sister, touya knew he was well beyond fucked.

there’s a tug on the sleeve of your jacket that forces you to stop in your tracks. the snow that’s now been disguised by the complete darkness of the evening is reilluminated by the light radiating from the lamp post above you.

“i’ll cut the bullshit. i like you. a lot,” touya declares, blinking away the snowflakes that make his eyelashes look impossibly prettier. “hearing that you had a boyfriend fucking sucked, and i had this petty, stupid idea to bring some girl over. i don’t know what exactly i was trying to accomplish.”

you’d had a whole speech planned and written in your heart for the boy looking down at you; you figure you should also correct his faulty assumption, but his confession leaves you tongue tied.

“but then you had this sad look on your face the whole time and that’s all i could think about for the next day. kissing you was a dick move, i know but….” he sighs, looking up at the night sky as if it might throw him a bone. “but you kissed me back. and i don’t want to be like… your side bitch, or something.”

you’re able to read genuine hurt in touya’s eyes, but his claim and it’s wording throws you into a fit of giggles. even as you’re laughing at his misery, touya can’t help but have goo-goo eyes for you.

“i’m serious! i went back to my room with a sad boner, you know! and it’s honestly blasphemous for you of all people to two time your poor boyfriend. i thought you were supposed to be a saint!”

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry. it’s just— you’re so stupid,” you wheeze.

it’s difficult for touya to take the fact that you just called him stupid to heart as you unsuccessfully attempt to wipe your tears away with your mittens on; so he does it for you. you give a soft smile of gratitude in return, a glint in your eyes. you take off your gloves so that you’re able to pull down the zipper covering his face. and despite his declaration that he didn’t want to be your “side bitch”, touya doesn’t stop you when you get on your tippy toes and loop your arms around his torso to plant a soft kiss on his lips; nor does he complain when it lands on his cupids bow instead. the softness of it all only makes him blush even harder, an effect he hopes is you’ll blame on the cold weather.

you don’t.

your chin is propped on his chest as you look up at him with a goofy smile. “i’m not dating that guy. i was peer pressured by fuyumi into going on one date, but nothing came out of it. you’d know that if you hadn’t stormed out of the room like a big baby. i kissed you back because i have feelings for you, dummy.”

with wide eyes, touya lets out a breathy laugh, before pulling his hands out of his pockets to grab your face and crash his lips into yours, hard and needy. you’re lips are locked for what feels like far too little a time before he pulls away.

“if i were you i probably wouldn’t want to date such an idiot after all this but…. will you? date me?”

“i’d love nothing more than to date this idiot.”

touya’s going to have to tell you later how you got together in the same spot he fell for you; but his first order of business is to take you back to his place and make up for lost time.

★ tag list: @ushygushybaby @stvrrlight @gbbibbi @julietdelamare @dabisearpiercings @gracefulbumblebee @sky-casino @twerkformammon @mika-writes-fanfics @iheartgeto @doulcha @aicakee @alondraapple19 @imeverycliche

#dabi #dabi headcanons #dabi x reader #dabi drabble #dabi imagine #dabi x y/n #dabi angst #dabi fluff #dabi fanfic #touya todoroki x reader

[lipglossanon]

Apple Cider

sweet stepdad!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader - NSFW

warnings: stepcest, Leon POV, kissing, oral (m receiving), somnopholia

not proofread ✌️

As soon as he enters the front door, Leon can smell the spice of cloves and cinnamon drifting from the kitchen. Kicking off his shoes and setting his keys on the little side table, he makes his way toward the smell (and hopefully you). 

“Hi! How was work?” you smile over at him, stirring a pot on the stove. 

“It’s work,” he shrugs, walking up behind you to wrap his arms around your middle, “missed you.”

He feels you lean against him and he noses along your hairline before kissing the shell of your ear, “Smells good.”

“Thanks,” he can hear the smile in your voice, “it’s apple cider. I’ve been wanting to make some since the weather got cooler.”

“Ahh,” he hums, kissing the nape of your neck before pulling away, “sounds good to me.”

“Go relax on the couch and I’ll bring some out to you,” you wave your hand toward the living room. 

“Bossy,” he chuckles, dropping another kiss to your neck before heading out of the kitchen. 

He slips off his suit jacket, laying it out on the armrest. Settling down on the couch, he flips on the television, leaving it on a classic monster’s marathon. His eyes start to droop by the time you take a seat next to him, jostling him accidentally as the smell of apple cider hits his nose. 

He lets out a low grumbling moan as he stretches out before taking the cup you’re holding out to him. 

“Thanks,” he mumbles, voice heavy with sleep. 

“Tired already?” You tease him, making him roll his eyes and take a sip from the steaming mug. 

He hums and takes another drink, “Mm hmm. This is good, thank you, baby.”

He watches as you squirm in place, head ducking with shyness making his chest tight with that helpless feeling of love. 

“Glad you like it,” you smile softly at him. 

You both lapse into silence, sipping your drinks and watching as Bella Lugosi turns into a bat on screen. Once Leon finishes off the cider, he sets it onto the side table and leans back onto the couch. You follow suit, sitting your empty mug down to snuggle into his side. 

He only means to let his eyes rest for a second, but the next thing he knows, he’s coming to with wet hot heat around his cock. His brows pinch together while a slow syrupy pleasure tightens in his belly. His eyes groggily open to see the tv in a smear of black and white as Lon Chaney Jr grows into a werewolf. 

A soft noise of suction draws his sleep filled eyes down to see your head resting in his lap. It looks almost sweet, like you’re only laying against him to watch the movie, but he can feel your lips and tongue gently kissing and licking at his fat cockhead, lathing underneath the foreskin before lapping up the drippy precum from his slit. 

He wants to say something, but it just feels so good. It’s not like you haven’t sucked him off before, he just tends to keep all the attention on you. He loves making you feel good; your pleasure is his pleasure. 

However, it seems like you took it upon yourself to have your own good time tonight. And he’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth so he stays relaxed and lets you have your fill. His hand already rests on your head, even though he doesn’t remember putting it there, but he’s not complaining. 

Subtly, he pushes his hand down, sinking more of your mouth onto his weeping cock. You make a short choked off moan and suck another few inches past your lips. He feels your spit dripping down his shaft, seeping into his pants that are already soaked in drool.  Just how long have you been sucking him off? 

His fingers spasm around your head as the tip kisses the back of your throat. He wants to buck up into your mouth so bad, feel that tightness around his cock until he’s spilling so much cum you can’t even swallow it all. You whimper and pull off a ways, kissing all over the head before dragging your lips down his thick length. 

You lick a path back up to the tip, letting it slip past your lips before wrapping a hand around the base to pop it from your mouth. A blurt of precum spills out and your tongue is there to quickly lap it up. Leon’s eyes rolls back as you keep sinking just the head into your mouth to pull it free by popping it past your cheek.  

He’s leaking so much precum at this point it’s almost ridiculous; you don’t seem to mind though, licking it up like you’ve never tasted anything better in your life. You suckle and tease his cock through another movie onscreen, that Leon barely even notices, before he’s finally grasping your head, teetering on the cusp of an orgasm. 

“Baby,” the word comes out gruffer than intended but you shiver and sink your mouth down on his cock more eagerly. 

When you raise up, he pushes your head back down, feeling his balls draw up at the whine you make. He’s strong enough he could keep you here and the thought makes him stiffen in your mouth. 

Letting go, you pull off enough to take a breath but press yourself back down, forcing his cock even deeper until he’s breaching your throat. 

“Fuck, ‘m g’nna cum, honey,” he slurs, deep and raspy, “w’nna cum in that pretty mouth, feel you swallow every drop.”

Moaning, you suck and drool all over his dick, throat clicking as you try to swallow around the fat length. He bucks up once and you choke around his cock hard, making that coil in his belly snap. Balls drawing up, he groans loudly, cock throbbing as he pumps a load of hot sticky jizz down your throat. You swallow around him, stretching out his climax, more ropes of thick cum filling your mouth to the point it’s dripping all down his shaft and onto his pants. 

He realizes he’s been holding your head down and with a start lets go; you don’t move however, kitten licking at his cock until all of his cum has been cleaned off. His breathing smoothes out by the time you right yourself, letting him see your wet swollen mouth and blown out pupils. Your face is messy with spit and cum making his cock throb although he knows nothing will come of it for a while. 

“Was that okay, daddy?”

“More than okay,” he pulls you into a kiss, and you eagerly clamber into his lap, grinding down on his thigh.

After letting you rut against him, he pulls back to murmur in your ear. 

“Wanna take this upstairs, baby?”

divider: @firefly-graphics

#lipglossanon #lipglossmasterlist #lipglossanonmasterlist #lipglossanon promptober 2023 #promptober 2023 #promptober 2023 day 21 #alcoholic/sweet stepdad!leon s kennedy x fem!reader smut #alcoholic/sweet stepdad!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #alcoholic/sweet stepdad!leon s kennedy #alcoholic/sweet stepdad!leon s kennedy smut #fem!reader #sweet stepdad!leon s kennedy x fem!reader smut #sweet stepdad!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #sweet stepdad!leon s kennedy #sweet stepdad!leon s kennedy smut #stepcest #Apple Cider #Leon POV

[wonlovie]

— RACING, BEATING PART II TEASER !

read part i here

— starring. illegal-racer!heeseung x model!reader

— tags. arranged-marriage!au, pre-established relationship, minor angst (if u squint??), reader gets objectified, smut [oral (m. receiving), face fucking, vaginal fingering, degrading (use of whore, slut; heeseung 'accuses' reader of wanting to fuck someone else during sex), mean-dom!heeseung, car sex [MINORS DNI])

— word count. [teaser] 0.6k, [estimated] 4k

— notes. HAH i did this instead of sleeping even tho i have a midterm today // this is ltrly only smut atm LOL

Heeseung caressed his knuckles against the length of your hollowed cheeks with a gentleness that contrasted his thrusts. Tears burned your eyes, the back of your throat sore from his abuse. The sound of wet slick and choking gasps almost rivaled your heartbeat as you stared up at the man.

He was almost fully dressed—a simple black blazer thrown on over a red silk top, ironed black slacks that fell to his perfectly shined shoes. His hair was styled up neatly, showing you the expanse of his forehead glistening with sweat.

A hand reached to cup the back of your head, keeping you in place as he fucked into your wet cavern relentlessly.

“Fuck,” he breathed out in a whine, head thrown back against the leather seats as he groaned loudly. “Fuck, fuck, baby, you’re taking me so fucking well.” His lips parted, ruby red lipstick smudged over his visage, staining the silver lip ring. Heeseung’s jaw dropped as you swallowed around his cock, a series of long, winded whines coming from the back of his throat.

“Shit, princess. Gonna make me cum,” he warned you, dropping his head down to look at you through hooded eyes. His newly dyed black hair fell over his irises, obscuring them from view. His face pinched in pleasure as he lifted his hips against your plush lips. “You’ll take it for me, yeah? Swallow every last drop like the good little whore you are.” His nails dug into your scalp.

You pressed your thighs together, the carpet floor of the backseat rubbing harshly against your bare knees. The dress you’d worn, a little black number that you picked out just for Heeseung, had ridden up to your waist. The fabric bunched prettily around your hips, showing off that you had forgone undergarments.

He watched you breathlessly, eyes darting from your teary eyes to the way your little mouth took him so well. He didn't miss the way you tried to covertly rub yourself, thighs moving slowly—a futile attempt to feel something against your aching clit.

His cock twitched against your tongue as you licked at a jutting vein, a perfectly manicured hand coming up to cup his aching balls. He watched tenderly as you switched from suckling on his angry red tip to taking his length fully, your nose tickling against his happy trail. His thrusts grew wild, a loss in rhythm suggesting he was close.

“Gonna paint your mouth white, baby,” he hissed, tugging at your matted strands. “God, you look so pretty covered in my cum. Wanna make a mess out of you so bad.”

You whined, your muffled tone vibrating against his dick. He cried out your name, low moans tumbling from his pretty lips as he came, shooting hot and thick ropes of cum down your throat. You blinked away tears, a burning sensation left behind as he pulled his length out from your mouth. Spurts of cum spilled from his tip and you lolled your tongue out as Heeseung dragged it over your face.

His chest heaved as he stared at you, adoringly as though he was admiring his art. “Fucking hell,” he hushed, tugging you impatiently onto his lap. You fell clumsily against him, legs bumbling to straddle his small waist. You moaned in unison when your dripping core rubbed against his cum and saliva coated cock, your hips twitching in anticipation.

Heeseung sighed out your name against your lips as he cupped your cheek with a large hand. The coolness of his rings made you shiver as he pulled you in for a kiss. His mouth moved against yours slowly, his tongue flicking out against your lip. His kiss was hot and wet, his tongue caressing yours in a way that made you crumble atop his lap.

— permanent taglist.

@jaeyunsleftnostril @deobitifull @jenowhere @moonchus @1-800shutthefuckup @lilriswife4life @ni-kisgf @fakeuwus @tya0 @chickenscoups @in-somnias-world

©WONLOVIE please do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or copy any of my works.

#wonlovie #enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen angst #enhypen imagines #enhypen smut #heeseung #heeseung scenarios #heeseung x reaer #heeseung imagines #heeseung angst #heeseung smut #lee heeseung #lee heeseung scenarios #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung imagines #lee heeseung angst #lee heeseung smut

[outlawedmando]

SOMEWHERE SAFE

pairing: sihtric kjartansson × poc!reader

warnings: violence ; sihtric not married here

summary: scared of losing someone dear to you.

a/n: this is so inaccurate but i desperately wanted to write for my one love <3 kicking myself for not watching the last kingdom sooner (that's on me). this has not been edited/beta read.

also! would really appreciate reblogs + comments!!

word count: 1,3k+

COPYRIGHT ® 2023 OUTLAWEDMANDO. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. THIS ORIGINAL WORK IS NOT ALLOWED TO BE REPOSTED ON ANY PLATFORM IN ANY FORMAT.

SOMEWHERE IN DANELAND

The aftermath of any battle came with its own consolation prizes. Both sides of the war lost many on their sides. There were dead bodies scattered everywhere, decorating the barren field to completion. You do not remember being dragged violently on the ground, only that you could not see properly as blood had gotten everywhere—into your eyes and all.

Now as you sit on the bloodied earth surrounded by Danes jeering about how they caught one of Uthred's most trusted men. But, you knew how the men looked at you. You rather the Saxon's and their god smite you then be laid out on a platter for these savages. You did not know when your back up would come, if they would notice that you were gone. You could be dead for all you knew.

Your hands shuffled across your body, patting down all over. Your fingers had found the small dagger strapped alongside your pants on the right-side. You would die with honour if worst comes to worse.

A Dane you haven't seen before strutted in his glory towards you. You glared as he laughed drinking his ale. Most of it spilled all over the ground. He swiped his long dagger from his hip and brought it directly in front of you.

“What a prize you are,” He dragged the tip of the steel from your cheek down to your chest. “I wonder what Uthred would say now that we have one of his own.”

You spat at him, “I will cut out your tongue and feed it to you and I will watch you as you choke on it.”

His smile turned into a frown. He chucked his empty cup away as he dug his dagger into your throat drawing a sliver of blood. You winced but you sneered even more as you struggled in your binding—the rope cutting into your wrists.

“You shut your mouth bitch or I will make you.”

You swore under your breath. You eyed this man before you spat at his shoes. “Fuck you.”

“You little…” He grabbed the back of your neck. You knew there was going to be a large bruise left after. That was the least of your worries. You had endured worse. Women always bore the brunt of men’s actions. That was written in history.

The Dane brought the hilt of his dagger and smashed it against your cheekbone and switched the weapon so the blade got dragged down your neck. He was making incisions amongst your skin, the flesh open and gaping; letting blood run its course.

You steeled your face. You must show no fear. He kept on beating you, wearing your body down. Until, there was a commotion at their camp. One of the men came and addressed his leader that they found dead bodies scattered at a river.

“The sickness, it has travelled from afar. From those Christian bastards. We must prepare.” The leader addressed his men, he stared directly at you, “If you see anyone that is not a Dane, kill them.” He smirked.

You cowered in hurt as you coughed up blood. It splattered against the earth. Your body collapsed against the ground, eyes dizzy. You didn’t remember anything, only blackness.

—

Screams were heard, the ringing in your ears faded with time. The screams continued. Metal clanged against another, the sharp thrum of violence. You could hear a name being shouted, multiple times of different voices.

Everything rushed to your head, a sharp tinge rung through. White light blinded your eyes as they fluttered open, trying to refocus your gaze.

The chant of your name repeated until you saw someone crouch by your side, pushing your shoulders back and letting your body lay on the dirt. You settled your gaze upon the shadow overcast your body, you gasped.

Sihtric cupped your cheek gently, “I’m here,” his fingers caressed the cuts. “I am here,” he whispered. You groaned in pain. Whimpered at the soft touch.

He coaxed you from the ground, hand cradling the small of your back as he helped you up from the ground. Sounds of throats being slit reverberated in the decrepit environment; Uthred, Finan, Osferth and Aethelstan took care of the rest of the men.

Sihtric called Osferth over to tend to your wounds. His look of worry worsened as Osferth approached in concern. He swore openly in undiluted anger. He stabbed one of his weapons; his dagger into the ground. Uthred grimaced. Osferth tended to your injuries, mixing a salve to apply to the deep cuts. He tore fabric and wrapped it tightly around your arms.

Osferth gazed directly into your eyes, “You know he’s not angry at you. He’s angry at himself, right…?”

Silence filled the space. You replied, “I know.” Your hands scrunched into the dirt, burying your anger and sadness into the specks of soil. “I know.”

Osferth got up and smiled gently towards you. “Thanks baby monk.”

His ears tinted a pinkish red.

Finan called him over after he saw that he was done tending to you. Uthred came over. It seemed like a domino effect; each man lined up waiting to speak with you on Sihtric’s behalf. When all you wanted was that oaf of a man.

You glared at Uthred, “Do not speak of it.”

“I do not know what you mean.” He smiled and shrugged his shoulders. He lifted you up and brought you over to one of the horses and helped you up.

“Let’s get back home to Rumcoffa. We will ride as much as we can before we settle for camp.”

“Hmm.”

“You’re riding with Sihtric.”

“Really? I couldn’t tell by the way you placed me upon his horse.”

He laughed. Sihtric approached the horses side and pushed himself up and behind you. He snaked his hands around your waist to grab the reins. His left hand settled against your stomach and gently pushed you back into him. You felt the warmth of his palm. You relished in it.

A throat cleared and you snapped out of your thoughts. Finan smiled like a lunatic. You glared. The horses neighed and set off riding. Only the sounds of hooves hitting the wet ground as the group rode into the horizon safe from danger.

—

Night came upon the land quickly and Uthred decided to set up camp in favour of you being deeply unwell to continue riding in your state. Their were no complaints from the rest of the men. You needed rest.

The fire crackled, the rabbits spit roasted and charred from the fire, chewing of the cooked meat traversed the environment. No one spoke until Finan couldn’t handle the silence and started talking about one of the women in the taverns. An old tale, a tale heard many times before.

You smiled deliriously and yawned.

“Here use this,” sweet Aethelstan gave you a fur to cover yourself. It was a cold night.

“Thank you,” you said.

Sihtric stayed quiet. He stayed quiet until everyone finally dozed off into sleep.

He stayed right by your side; close by.

You awoke soon after. You could feel someone staring into your back or it could of been a nightmare. You’re not sure which. Sihtric gaze settled on you, his fingers clenched.

“Why do you hate me so?”

“I don't hate you. I hate them for turning you into this.”

“Into what?”

“Someone I deeply care for get hurt.”

“You know bloodshed will never end. Especially because of who our loyalties lie with.” You turned over to face him. You stretched your hand across and placed it onto his thigh.

“I still do not like it.”

“Well, you have to deal with it.”

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t pain me to see you hurt this way.”

“Neither do I when I see you hurt.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“I do.”

Your hand grabbed his. “Then lay with me and rest.”

His fingers tightened around yours in agreement.

#the last kingdom #sihtric x reader #tlk sihtric #sihtric one shot #sihtric kjartansson x reader #tlk x reader #tlk imagine #the last kingdom x reader #sihtric #uthred x reader #finan x reader #osferth x reader #tlk #tlk fandom #tlk reader #poc!reader #sihtric x poc!reader

[luvehotch]

Midnight Frustrations

Fem!reader x Aaron Hotchner 

Summary- Aaron is away on a case in Texas and missing you dearly, he sleepily discovers you'd left him an explicit polaroid to use for his pleasure CW’s- 18+ CONTENT, MDNI, male masturbation, think that's it??

Word Count- 585

The suffocating heat of the Texas summer bombarded Aaron’s senses as he stepped foot into the dingy room of the motel the BAU were staying in for the duration of this case. The day had been gruelling as most when working with serial killers, but especially so considering Aaron had been unable to contact his girlfriend all day because of the tiring time difference and conflicting work schedules. Just leaving him overall frustrated and exhausted and more than ready for bed. He kicked his shoes off haphazardly without a care for where they landed, swifty undid his belt and also dropped that to the floor with a jangle of the metal where it hit the corner of the bedside table and shuffled his fitted suit trousers down the long plains of his hairy thighs. Left in only his boxers, shirt and tie Aaron heaved himself onto the bed and lay there silently, only soft puffs of breath leaving him and the odd creak of the rickety window shutters. 

At some point Aaron decided it was time for him to finally change into his PJ’s and call it a day, so he sat up and grabbed his suitcase immediately unzipping it and going to grab his usual pair of grey joggers and oversized Washington t-shirt when a small piece of paper fluttered out and fell to the floor by his feet. Aaron picked it up curiously and flipped it over to see none other than your perfectly sculpted chest, bared towards the bright flash of the camera shutter, stiff peaks staring him down almost daringly. His hips shifted unconsciously and his jaw clenched in unbridled lust and the heat between his thighs only intensified as he struggled to tear his eyes away from your pretty little tits. 

A wave of hungry desire crashed over Aaron as he fought with his tie and practically ripped his creased white shirt off and dipped his hand beneath the waistband of his navy blue boxers while picking the seductive polaroid between his pointer finger and thumb. His hand crept below his hips playing with the wiry hair growing there, almost teasingly, only ever skimming the source of his leaking arousal, instead his veiny hands moved south and cupped his heavy sack; a lewd moan escaping between gritted teeth and wandering tongue wetting his plump lips.

Desperately he grasped his fully hardened erection now, hurriedly pushing his boxers down to his ankles and gripping the base of his cock. The head grew red and angry with every second that passed left unattended as Aaron imagined the sensation of your silky smooth skin, the scent of vanilla coconut invaded his nose as if you were right there with him and only encouraged him to stroke more passionately now, he twisted and writhed on the bed high pitched whiny moans left his wet lips and his breath quickened as his perception of reality began to loosen. Your name was whispered barely audible with each bob of his hand over his straining length and with one last bleary eyed peek at your perky chest the pace of his hand faltered as milky cum burst from his tip and shot over his stomach and hardened nipples.

Once he had calmed down a little; breaths evened out, dick limp, chest soft and relaxed, Aaron picked up his phone and sent you a quick snap of the dried spill of his cock settled on his chiselled abdomen with a threat of payback on his arrival back home.

A/N- Hey guys, I'm fairly new at this but I have always loved the community on here so I am excited to potentially begin posting more and get to know people !!

#aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #fluffy smut #aaron hotch #smut #aaron hotchner x reader #fem!reader #daddy #pls old man fuck me #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch smut #aaron hotch hotchner

[stargirlaveblog]

7Seals

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Chapter 1

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

• Previous Chapter: Prologue Next Chapter: Chapter 2

•Chapter List

•Content: Levi Ackerman x OC Fem! Canon Verse! Slow Burn!

• Word Count: 1.2k

"Now I saw when the Lamb opened one of the seals; and I heard one of the four living creatures saying with a voice like thunder, 'Come and see.' And I looked, and behold, a white horse. He who sat on it had a bow; and a crown was given to him, and he went out conquering and to conquer."

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

In the regiment's relentless rhythm, my days blurred together over six unchanging years. The routine was our relentless master – wake, eat, train, meetings, eat again, and sleep. The mundane melody was occasionally disrupted by Shadis' whims, granting us a fleeting taste of the world beyond the towering Walls.

Our morning table, a sanctuary for the seasoned veterans, bore witness to comrades dropping like autumn leaves. The unspoken question lingered: when would our turn come? While many saw luck in our continued survival, I saw a darker twist. Fate, I believed, lurked patiently, biding its time until we felt secure, ready to shatter the false reality we'd constructed in this hellish existence.

Today, the cruel hand of fate played its cards, mocking our comfort.

"The boys aren't here yet?" Petra's radiant smile broke the morning's routine as she settled across from me.

"Nah," I replied, absentmindedly tearing at my morning bread. "Just Hange and I, probably still asleep."

Petra's grin widened, cheeks tinted with a hint of mischief. "Thank the Wall."

Hange, always perceptive, caught the unspoken secret in Petra's expression.

"I know that look," they squealed with infectious excitement. "Spill."

"Have you guys seen the new recruit?" Petra's playful voice danced through the room.

"Have I?!" Hange's response, a lively squeal, prompted a shared effort between Petra and me to hush them. Yet, if anything, their voice only seemed to gain volume.

"He's a menace! Have you guys seen him in action? He's truly set to revolutionize the Scouts."

One person expected to revolutionize the regiment was a wild accusation, not only wild but big shoes to fill.

"I thought all the recruits died."

"He's the sole survivor. Goes by Levi," Petra disclosed in a hushed tone leaning towards me. "Word has it his entire wing was taken out on the last expedition. Rumor even suggests he took down five titans single-handedly."

"Five?" My surprise echoed throughout the mess hall, louder than Hange had earlier.

"Who is this guy?"

A recruit taking out more than one Titan on their first journey outside the Walls was unheard of. The recruit surviving a Titan encounter was impressive enough, but taking down five was a whole other game.

Petra gestured subtly towards the corner, where Levi sat alone. "A short fella," Hange added with a playful smile.

"But undeniably handsome," Petra remarked.

My curiosity ignited and my intrusive thoughts won as I nudged Petra.

"Go talk to him."

"I'd only fool myself," she sighed. "He keeps to himself, speaks only with section leaders and the commander."

"I don't buy it," I chuckled, glancing in Levi's direction. There he was, absorbed in the morning paper, sipping tea in that peculiar way of his—hand over the rim, neglecting the perfectly good handle on the side of the cup.

"Go see for yourself," Petra challenged with a smug grin.

"I will," I declared, sticking my tongue out playfully before confidently striding towards Levi's table.

He was a recluse no doubt about it. From the moment Petra pointed him out to me, not once has he looked up from his morning paper. I know that nothing that interesting happened in these three walls to keep his attention that long.

Undeterred by Levi's icy reception, I took a seat without awaiting permission. The mess hall seemed to hold its breath, the world stopped moving around me as I gathered the courage to speak.

"What's your name?" I probed, met only with the continued rustle of his morning paper and the measured sip of his tea.

"Not a big talker, huh?" I teased, maintaining a resilient grin. "Well, I'm Iris, been with the scouts for six years now. Sorry for the tardy introduction—"

"Are you a section leader?" he interrupted.

"Oh, no, I'm just—" Again, his interruption cut me off.

"Until you become a captain or commander, don't talk to me unless ordered to," he snapped, his eyes still glued to the paper.

"Until you become captain or commander, don't tell me what to do," I retorted, my smile unwavering. "Until then, I'll talk your ear off as much as I want to."

Finally, he set aside his papers and looked up. His midwinter eyes jabbed at me as they locked onto my own.

"If you're trying to make a friend, save your breath and look elsewhere," he groaned, his gaze cold. "Tell your friends it's rude to stare."

I rose from the table, maintaining my cheerful facade. "Congrats on the five Titans. Until next time, Mr. Grumps."

"Tch," escaped Levi's lips as I walked away, his grumbling fading into the background as I navigated back to my comrades.

Miche Oluo and Alexander awaited my return at the breakfast table. All eyes were on me, especially Alexander's, his light brown gaze burning into mine. There was an unspoken tension, a silent exchange between us that spoke of disapproval and lingering questions.

As I settled beside Alexander, his disapproving gaze burned into my being. "What were you doing with that little freak?" he sneered.

"Hey, don't call him that," I retorted, nudging him playfully.

"What? Freak?" He laughed with a harsh edge. "He's just another underground sewage rat. Nothing but a freak." The disdain lingered on his tongue.

"Kid has a death wish," Miche chimed in.

"I think that kid is older than all of us," Hange interjected.

"There's no way that puny little thing is older than me," Alexander scoffed, dismissing Levi as if he were insignificant. "Just look at him. Nothing but bones under that uniform."

"Now now, Alexander," Hange teased. "I'd think you're jealous of him passing you up."

"Me jealous of that freak? Never," Alexander laughed, a defensive edge in his voice.

"Really? Because he's already at five Titans for his first expedition. I recall you earning three on our first mission," Hange pointed out with a mischievous giggle.

"Listen here, you little shit" Alexander's frustration surged, and he aimed his words at Hange. "I earned my way into the Scouts. That guy is only here to kill Erwin. He's nothing but a thug."

"Alexander, calm down," I attempted to defuse the tension, but his anger was worked up. Hange's teasing had struck a nerve, a fact known to everyone at the table.

"What?" Alexander groaned at me. "Don't tell me you have a soft spot for the freak already."

"Calm down. Hange is just teasing, and we all know it," I laughed lightly, attempting to ease the situation.

The table fell into an uneasy silence as Levi strolled by, his steel-grey eyes fixed ahead with unwavering confidence.

"Freak," Alexander muttered under his breath as Levi passed.

Alexander's sharp words lingered in the air as a bitter aftertaste, and a knot of worry tightened in my stomach. The casual disdain he threw toward Levi struck a nerve, leaving me both surprised and uneasy.

The recruit's gaze met Alexander's, offering an unfazed look. However, Levi's eyes then locked onto mine. I felt a shiver down my spine as his gaze traveled, time seemingly slowing down at that moment.

At that moment, I couldn't shake the feeling that fate itself had chuckled at us, reveling in the disruption Levi brought to our routine. The mess hall buzzed with the usual noise, but an undercurrent of change hummed beneath it all. It was as if Levi's mere presence had punctured the veil of our ordinary existence, inviting uncertainty and curiosity. It was a curiosity I wanted to explore, boundaries I wanted to see be pushed.

If only then I knew how much he would change our little world inside these three walls.

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#levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi aot #captain levi #levi attack on titan #snk levi #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #aot x reader #levi angst

[sweetestofchaos]

Run From Me - Three | K.TH

p. vampire!taehyung x vampire hunter!reader

g. soulmates - enemies to lovers - reincarnation

r. 18+

w. flashback - blood drinking - illusions to sex - dub con (reader is high from vampire venom) - murder

wc. 3.4k

an. divider and support banner made by @benkeibear. betaed by @theharrowing. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TAEHYUNG!!!!!

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Some time in the 1920s…

The city streets are filled with bodies and chatter. Smoke blankets the night air in a fog as people try to get from place to place. Music spills out from an open door, a man dressed in a black suit smiles as patrons enter and exit the venue. The Perching Bird, an up and coming jazz club that holds many vocal talents within its walls. Voices speak softly over the live band that plays on the center stage. 

In the background are beautiful maroon drapes that are tied back with golden rope that stands out against the dark wooden wainscoted walls. The floor is a cream colored marble to brighten the room, filled with tables set for two and larger groups of four. A handful of plush maroon and gold booths are pressed into the corners of the room, crisp white table cloths with beautiful flower centerpieces.

On stage a large black woman’s hair is perfectly coiffed out of her face and her green tinted hazel eyes shine in the lights. She croons the lyrics of ‘I’ve Got A Crush On You’ by Ella Fitzgerald and the bartender, Howard across the way smiles proudly. Gloria is one of their top acts and Howard loves her voice. He only works on the nights that he knows she will be there.

The scent of bourbon is strong and warm as the bartender pours a drink for another guest. He takes his eyes off the stage for a moment to thank the paying guest and flash them a coy smile. As the song ends, everyone inside claps politely and the bartender watches as Gloria leaves the stage.

From the back of the stage, a man with auburn hair parted and styled out of his face stands with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his green trousers. He wears a white button up shirt with a maroon and green striped tie. Overtop a matching green waist vest finishes off his outfit as it ties in the black and maroon two-toned oxford shoes.

The man is up next to sing and it is his first night at this club. He is a traveling entertainer, never staying in one city for too long. He is searching for a woman and has yet to find her. He got a tip from a friend of his that the woman he is looking for will be here tonight.

Gloria steps into the back and smiles at the new guy. “Break a leg out there kid,” she smiles as she walks past, patting his chest. He licks his lips and chuckles. Kid? He is far from it, but he knows he doesn’t look his age, not even close. 

Hidden from view, he waits until he is called up on stage. His hands remain in his pockets and he inhales deeply, closing his eyes as he sorts through the scents in the room. Smoke, alcohol, heavy perfume…nothing stands out to him. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we want you all to welcome a new talent to the stage. He comes to us with a very unique tone. Please give a warm welcome to Taehyung Kim!”

Taehyung pulls his hands from his pockets and slaps a smile onto his smooth face as he steps out into the spotlight. The band plays a simple introduction beat and Taehyung bows to the crowd before he waves and shakes the owner’s hands in thanks. He walks up to the mic and looks around with a small smile on his face, his cheeks growing in size making everyone swoon. Looking over his shoulder, Taehyung nods his head to the band and they go right into ‘Everything Happens To Me’ by Chet Baker. 

The setlist is easy enough. Taehyung picked songs he knew were popular in this area like ‘Fly Me To The Moon’ by Frank Sinatra, ‘I’ll Be Seeing You’ by Billie Holiday and a few others. 

Halfway through ‘Moon River’, creamy sandalwood catches in Taehyung’s throat. The cardamom spice burns his tongue while green citrus sends a shiver crawling down his spin. He takes a step back, allowing for the band to fill in the silence a little more as he tightens his grip on the mic stand. 

A shadow moves in the corner of his eye and Taehyung inhales once more. You are here, finally. 

Finishing the song, Taehyung turns to the band, keeping his hand over the mic as he fills them in on the new song that he wants to add to the playlist. They seem excited to play something new and Taehyung already has the owner’s permission to try it out. Turning back to the mic, Taehyung glances over at your table and your eyes are elsewhere; not even sparing him a moment of your time. Oh. His gums ache as he watches your finger glide over the thin gold chain of the diamond necklace that sits against your throat. 

You are focused on the story your friend is enthusiastically retelling. You have heard it before but the details always change. Your lips spread wide, showing off your teeth as you laugh and smile. Taehyung speaks into the mic and watches as your smile drops the moment you hear his voice. Can you feel the pull? Can you hear his heart calling your name? 

“This next song is one I wrote myself,” Taehyung smiles, glancing down at his feet to feign being shy. “This is for the one that got away.” He whispers, the mic hardly picking up with words. As the guitar starts to play softly, Taehyung looks back at the band one last time as he sings.

Chueokdo uimi eopsi

Naege neon sarajigo

Ijjeumedo I can't

Two backup singers fill in the gaps, their voices blending together beautifully as Taehyung keeps his face close to the mic, his hands holding on gently like he would a lover.

Let you go, let you go

Geu mari dain geoni

Hanmadiman namgigo

Huhoehamyeon

Won't you let me know? Let me know?

His finger taps to the beat as he sings. Not once losing himself as the lyrics and his voice spill into the hearts around him.

Geurae na soljikage

Da malhallae

Neoneun maeil eotteon saram eotteon gose

Myeot beonssigina mwol haneunji neol saenggakae

Lost without you, baby

The highnote casts a chill over your body, goosebumps rising as the hair on the back of your neck stands upright. Taehyung’s eyes roll upwards from the floor and whiskey brown meets honey. The words that fall from his lips have you hypnotized. 

I wish you would love me again

No, I don't want nobody else

The world around you fades, nothing can be heard over the sound of Taehyung’s voice as he continues to sing. Your ears ring but the buzzing is a subtle feeling at the base of your jaw that melts into your bones. You blink once, twice…by the third time you are no longer in the club. Now you lay on a plush softness; your body sinking deeper and deeper.

Colors, so many colors blind your eyes in a kaleidoscope of unknown shapes and textures. Where are you? This isn’t the club. You cannot hear anything no matter how much you try to focus past the ceaseless humming of your veins. 

Turning your head slowly, a searing pain pinches and pulls at the side of your throat making you wince. You didn’t want to move anymore than you already had. Blinking away the tears from the sudden pain, you are meat with a mahogany nightstand. It is clearly hand carved with a white doily placed on the surface. What looks to be an antique vase sits in the center with freshly cut white calla lilies.

The scent is subtle as it slowly filters into your sinuses and eases your mind. The walls are covered in a light tan wallpaper with a geometric flower pattern in dark brown. Brown furniture takes up space in the room, nothing over to the top but everything is mahogany and hand carved. It all looks to be antique, the style not quite meant for this era but beautiful nonetheless.

Little by little, the buzzing in your veins settles. The muck of your mind stills and becomes a clear mirror to reflect the night's events. You try to recall the moment you left the club and the buzzing is back, a silent partition determined to keep your memories at bay. 

Your face twists up in a grimace as you lift your hand. It feels like you have swam through a swamp filled with molasses, or maybe quicksand, unable to move freely as your hand falls right back to your side. Your lips part to call for help but the words die as soon as they process in your mind. A lock clicks and icy terror locks your muscles in place. Unable to move, a whimper leaves your lips.

“You’ve awakened dear one?” 

A voice deeper than the Congo river floats into your ears and the bed sinks from a new weight. Your breath stills in your chest. The bedding shifts from the weight and you can feel it against your skin. Did you sleep with this stranger? The scent of lavender and honey tickles your nose making your head ache. You hate the scent of lavender, always have ever since you were a child.

“Easy, dear one.” 

Dripping water catches your attention and you struggle to turn your head towards the voice. A cool hand, warmed over by hot water, touches your cheek. You don’t recall it being cold outside, so why does this stranger’s hand feel like this? Fingertips graze your skin and you shiver as water trails down your face.

“I hoped you would still be sleeping. Forgive me? I got a little carried away.”

What is this man talking about? Who is he and what has he done to you?

“Don’t be afraid, dear one. I won’t hurt you.”

The fingers on your cheek follow the contours of your face as a warm hand cups your chin and you flinch as a wet cloth is pressed into the side of your neck. You whine, unable to scream as the feeling of red hot needles piercing your skin burns through your neck. The man hushes you softly, the low notes of his voice a quiet warning as he wipes at your neck. His touch is firm but not uncaring as the wet cloth is removed from your skin. You can hear water droplets again before the cloth touches your skin once more. Why is he cleaning you? What has he done? Why does it feel as if you’ve been attacked?

“Look at me, dear one.” 

Careful hands help turn your head and you gasp. Beside you, the man from the club stares down at you with that same piercing stare. Gone is the waist vest and tie, his white shirt is unbuttoned midway down his chest, his sleeves are rolled up, exposing the smooth skin of his forearms and his hair is no longer parted neatly. It looks disheveled as if hands have run through the silky looking strands. The man’s face has hard lines, soft cheeks and dark eyes. He is what is spoken about when you hear ‘tall, dark and handsome.’ He offers a closed mouth smile, his eyes squinting slightly as his cheek softens the hard lines of his face.

Fingers ghost over your face again, touching as if they have your whole being memorized. As if they have touched you a million times before. A finger traces your upper lip before it lowers to your bottom lip and pulls at the plump skin. It feels like you are not within your own body as this man caresses you without a word. Such soft touches are for lovers not strangers…

“P-Please…” 

Your voice struggles against the sand that seems to have found a place lining your throat. You want to go home. You want to promise you won’t tell anyone about him. The cloth is back on your throat, pressing a little more firmly as the man wipes at your skin. From how the water runs down the side of your neck and over your shoulder, you know that your necklace is gone. Did he take it? Is this a robbery? Tears gather at your waterline and the man frowns as he collects your tears with his thumb.

“I do not mean to frighten you, dear one.” He sighs, pulling his hand away to drop the cloth into the bowl in his lap. 

You catch sight of the reddened cloth and the man’s frown deepens as your scent starts to sour.

“You have nothing to be afraid of. You are safe with me…” 

The words are spoken like they have been said before. They are sincere but something deep down inside begs you to run. Run far, far away. Swallowing past the dryness in your mouth, you try again to speak. Your lips part and the man is quick to slip his hand behind your head. Slowly, he helps you sit up and raises a glass to your mouth.

Cool water floods your insides and you greedily gulp down the soothing liquid. He pulls the glass away and sets it on the nightstand, cooing as he wipes away the water that spilled from the corner of your lips. Easing you back down onto the bed, he watches as your pupils shake and dilate.

Leaning down, the man skims his nose along your jaw and kisses just below your ear, “You smell divine, dear one. I don’t think I can hold back much longer…” His lips are frosty with a subtle warmth underneath, creating goosebumps on your skin as he peppers kiss after kiss on your skin. “May I taste you again? Share with you my love again?”

You shake your head, the pain in your throat clawing at your veins as you try to sit up. Your body won’t move and when you stare at the man above you, a name falls from your lips. His eyes widen a fraction of a second and he is pulling you into his lap. His hands cup your face and he rests his forehead against yours.

“Again, dear one. Say my name again? I beg you, please?”

You can feel the stiffness of his length as you sit in this man’s lap. His name falls from your lips once more and his arms wrap around your waist. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, body shaking and you realize belatedly that he is crying. Movement comes to your limbs in an act of muscle memory as you cradle the man in your arms, one hand resting on the back of his head as your fingers smooth over his hair.

Again his name falls from your lips and you press the softest of kisses to his temple. His skin isn’t as warm as it was before. It feels colder now, the heat slowly evaporating from his pores. A dry tongue licks at the side of your neck and your fingers tangle in his hair. A firm tug makes the man moan against you.

“Taehyung.”

It’s a warning. One that Taehyung will clearly ignore, but a warning nonetheless. He kisses up the side of your neck, his nose pressing into your cheek as he fumbles to find your lips. Taking pity on the man, you guide his face upwards and capture his lips. Past the coolness of his lips, the bitter tang of something metallic makes your stomach roll in disgust. You move to draw back and Taehyung follows you.

Your lips never break apart and you groan as he kisses the very breath out of you. His hands find your waist and nails dig into the subtle flesh, pricking the skin enough to draw blood. You hisses against Taehyung’s mouth and he nips at your lower lip.

“Smell so good, dear one. So good.”

His mouth is attached to your throat before you can process his words and you cry out as teeth puncture the freshly cleaned wound. Taehyung slurps loudly as your blood rushes into his mouth. Gulp after gulp makes him moan and his skin heats up. You whine, your core throbbing and clenching around nothing.

Your mind clouds with black and white static, the whooshing rush of your blood, loud behind your ears and your hands push at Taehyung’s shirt. As his skin peaks from underneath his clothing, your hands find purchase against the strong muscles of his shoulders. You squeeze and pull him closer, you want his skin on yours. 

“P-Please…Tae?” Your voice sounds miles away, a ghost of who you know yourself to be. Begging for something you have never had.

Grunting, Taehyung pulls away from your neck and crashes his lips into yours. Your blood tastes sweet and tangy, something close to a red wine. Taehyung strips himself of his shirt, sharing with you his unblemished skin, sunkissed from a time long ago. He rolls you over, hovering above as he shoves his trousers and boxer shorts down his thighs, kicking them off his legs. The heat that rests against your lower stomach is hot as your body trembles in anticipation. Taehyung grins down at you, a boxy smile with pink tinted teeth. How boyish he looks above you with mused hair and wide eyes.

“Taehyung,” You breath out, unsure of what to ask, but Taehyung takes control. He knows your body inside and out, he can and will give you everything you ask for and more. His touch is gentle and unrushed, like he has years to pull your pleasure from you again and again. There is no pain as he takes his rightful place between your legs. As his teeth sink into your neck once more, your body burns with pleasure.

Your heart beats wildly in your chest, pumping harder as the blood never reaches back to recycle. Your walls tighten around Taehyung, your legs hold him close and your nails drag down his back, red lines marking the skin for only a few seconds before they disappear. How much longer will this pleasure last? You have come undone how many times? Your body feels like lead, sinking rapidly in a bottomless ocean. Your eyes flutter and the colors around you swirl, fading into a monotone of black. Your breathing is shallow and it hurts to think.

“T-Tae…”

The name falls on deaf ears and tears leak from the corners of your ears. This feeling, this heavy weight that seems to lighten with each gulp that Taehyung takes makes something deep inside crumble away bit by bit. You know this feeling. Struggling, you cup Taehyung’s cheek and stroke the apple of his cheek. His face is wet, you know that he is crying. Taehyung can feel your heart slowing and yet he cannot stop. The sweetness of your blood calls to him, warms his body twice over. It is a feeling that he has chased all throughout time.

Death bitters the blood, tainting the very source from which Taehyung drinks. He wants to stop, he knows he should stop…Your hand falls away from his face, fingertips wet with his pink tinted tears. Bitter, rotten and cold blood touches Taehyung’s tongue and he rips himself away from your neck, gagging on the taste. His tears stream down his faster, now a deep red as he cries blood. Raising his right wrist to his mouth, Taehyung bites down, tearing into the flesh and hurriedly presses the bleeding limb to your parted lips.

Blood pools in your mouth but you do not drink, there is no movement from you. Your heart is still, not a single beat fills the room. Taehyung sobs as he places his hands over your heart and starts chest compressions. You can’t die! 

Repeatedly, Taehyung tries to resuscitate you, letting more blood flow into your mouth but nothing happens. He holds you in his arms and cries. His tears disappear into your hair as he wails. His heart pounds rapidly in his chest, his face is flush with the very life he stole from you and it hurts. 

How can he live without you? He doesn’t want to be alone again. He just found you…please…please he didn’t mean to hurt you.

How long will it take to find you again? How soon will your soul be reborn? He will scour the Earth a million times over until he can keep you by his side. This was a mistake, Taehyung understands that now. He was too hasty and that cost you your life. He will spend an eternity begging for your forgiveness. He will find you again. He must. 

#taehyung fic #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #vampire taehyung #fic: run from me #soc taehyung #exqueuese me

[qqueenofhades]

ok fix-it time hilary you can do this i believe in you

prompt is a classic one--Aziraphale runs after Crowley after the "i forgive you" "don't bother" exchange OR the kiss does magically work like Crowley hoped

no i am not using english grammar and spelling today my feelings are too strong

Aha. Well, I wrote this fic yesterday, but it... might not entirely qualify as fix-it. My bad. To make it up, I offer you this: technically not either of the suggested scenarios, but still something to salve the pain, set at the end of Season 3 or thereabouts.

The late afternoon light is still and weighty: golden, heavy, purposeful, the sort of light that takes up space, that polishes floorboards and sets dust motes drifting, settles on the backs of furniture and the pages of books like a sleeping cat. The sort of light that fills the room almost tangibly, that stripes the bed and spills off it to the floor like too much olive oil poured into an amphora, back in the hot white heat of the Holy Land. Since he is, of course, a being of pure light, Aziraphale can feel it in his sinews, in the core of his soul, but it almost seems... wrong. Not the light itself, but that he's still allowed to touch it. He doesn't know if he's Fallen or not, or if such trite distinctions even matter. He only knows this. Them. Now.

Aware that it is incumbent upon him to start the conversation, he clears his throat and looks at Crowley, sprawled out on the bed with a fair show of his old insouciance, but Aziraphale can sense the fragility behind the flippant smile. Crowley's black-clad legs are jauntily crossed, his shoes kicked off, his hair a particularly vibrant red against the little-used, age-yellowed lace of the pillow cover; this bed, after all, doesn't get much use in the traditional sense. Aziraphale's preferred human vice is food, not sleep, though he knows Crowley is very good at it and might have to teach him a thing or two about that, about rest. He craves it, but he doesn't know where to begin. That seems applicable to any number of things right now, but he has to start somewhere, he supposes. He just doesn't know.

"Er," Aziraphale says at last, to Crowley's increasingly-strained expectant expression. "My dear, I... I am..."

He bites his tongue. He's rarely been in this position before, knowing that he's the one who needs desperately to ask for forgiveness -- real forgiveness -- and not at all certain that it will actually be granted. It's always seemed so slick, so easy, something to toss off as easily and unthinkingly as the humans say bless you when someone sneezes, and carrying about the same spiritual or emotional depth. Aziraphale feels mortifyingly ashamed of it, of himself. He shuffles his feet, twisting the hem of his waistcoat between his fingers. At last, to the carpet, he says, "I'm so very, very sorry. I've been an absolutely dreadful ninny, and I don't... I don't know if you can forgive me, but..."

"Angel." Crowley's voice is rough. "Bloody look at me, would you?"

Half-fearing to be dissolved by infernal hellfire on the spot, but knowing that he deserves it, Aziraphale looks up.

It's hard to read Crowley's expression, even more than usual. The glasses are off, but his slitted amber eyes are opaque, careful, wary, not quite sure what this is or what's going to come of it. The dead-silent moments that follow, as he weighs up his options, are among the very worst of Aziraphale's entire unending life. Then Crowley fractionally shifts his weight, opening up a spot on the bed next to him, a silent invitation. He doesn't say anything. Using their words tends to backfire tremendously, even if they need to get used to it. He just looks. He just waits.

After all this time, after everything, Aziraphale finally doesn't hesitate. In fact, he almost trips over himself as he blunders across the floor, falls onto the squeaking old mattress, and clambers into Crowley's arms. Crowley wraps them both around him with fierce, ferocious, furious strength, pulling Aziraphale down next to him, Aziraphale's softer, rounder corporal form fitting neatly into the hard lines and lean angles of Crowley's. Aziraphale rests his head on the bare triangle of throat where Crowley's shirt is unbuttoned, burrows his face into the sharp cleanness of Crowley's collarbone, and becomes belatedly, embarrassingly aware that he's crying. It seems beneath the dignity of a (possibly-ex?) Principality, but he doesn't think he can stop. He just wants to lie here and clutch onto Crowley for literally dear life, to mourn for all the time they've missed, for the simple, unbearable, shocking, agonizing, perfectly exquisite pleasure of holding his love close. "I'm so sorry," he says again, struggling not to let his voice crack too extravagantly. "Dreadful ninny. Absolutely dreadful."

"You were doing what you thought was right. What you needed to do to stop the Apocalypse, just... differently." Crowley's voice turns distant, his fingers absently stroking Aziraphale's hair. It feels strange and shocking and quite, quite lovely. "Can't really tell you off for that, can I? After all, I'm a demon. What do I know about doing good?"

"Hush," Aziraphale says, primly and a little watery. "Now you know that's not true."

Crowley lifts his head and regards Aziraphale for a long moment. He doesn't answer, just thinks about it. "All right," he allows, at deliberate length. "Maybe a little. I'm still very mad at you, though."

"I do understand." Aziraphale nestles again, and Crowley doesn't stop him. "But perhaps, even if I have no real right to ask it, you can... you might... one day think about... f-forgiving me?"

His voice trembles and squeaks. It takes all the courage in him, even more than when he stood up to the full hosts of Heaven and told them no, no more, not ever again, but he looks Crowley in the eye. He tries not to look too expectant, or too arrogant. He waits.

Crowley, for his part, looks mildly flabbergasted. He makes one of those incoherent nnngh noises that he resorts to whenever he finds himself at a loss for words, and shakes his head. "Idiot," he says, very softly. "Of course I bloody forgive you. Of course. Now if you -- "

He doesn't get to finish his sentence. That's because Aziraphale likewise screws up every drop of courage, takes hold of Crowley's collar, and lowers his head, terrified that he's about to muck it up. But Crowley just looks at him like he's luminous, like the light is still in him and he is the light itself, and tips his head just that bit, in order to settle their lips together.

The kiss is long and slow, soft and sweet. Crowley's hand flutters up to rest in the wild white tufts of Aziraphale's hair, and Aziraphale -- somewhat in terrified awe at his own daring -- nibbles experimentally on Crowley's lip. He's quite bad at it, but neither of them care, or can think about anything else, or do anything but heave short sharp breaths, half-laughs, muffled sobs. When they finally pull apart, Aziraphale says anxiously, "I hope it wasn't very awful?"

"Oh." Crowley's eyes are half-lidded, and in the sunlight, he too looks as if he is burning like a beacon, brighter than his favorite stars. The affection in his voice is greater than the wings of heaven or the reaches of hell, the heights of the sky or the depths of the sea, and his smile outshines them all. "Absolutely terrible."

#daisyyydaisyyydaisyyy #ask #good omens #good omens s2 #good omens spoilers #ish #ineffable husbands #good omens ff

[seakicker]

Eheh I’m loving that you love dottore so much~ so lemme introduce you to some more of my fantasies about him:

Obviously, Dottore is a hugeee bastard (ofc ofc) so he’s gonna lie a lot to you (but only harmless white lies! He wouldn’t betray you after becoming so attached). You’re absolutely right about him making excuses for taking so much of your milk and it makes me giggle thinking about how his excuses would get wilder and wilder over time <3 But you only have so much patience! After a week of his shenanigans you just can’t take having those damn pumps attached to your breasts all the time now, your nipples are so sore from the indifferent machine working away for so long :(( After chucking the pump in Dottore’s lab and waddling back to your quarters, you’re filled with satisfaction for a moment. Massaging your tender boobs and rubbing your stomach, you sigh, content with your disobedience, until you hear the echoing clacks of Dottore’s shoes coming down the hallway. Your stomach drops down to the floor as you realize what you’ve done (you’ve disobeyed the most insane harbinger??) and your breaths turn shallow as you panic.

Dottore’s short knocks on the door shock you for a moment, he didn’t seem like the type to respect you enough to give you a moment to retain your decency. But more seconds pass, and you realize he probably wants you to open the door yourself and face your punishment head-on…Quickly, you throw an oversized top back on and meekly answer the door. There he is, his red eyes almost glowing in ecstasy as a small smile twitches on his lips.

“What do I owe your presence to, doctor?” You can barely whisper out the words, but thanks to your closeness, he hears you just fine.

Dottore advances on you as you stumble back, his skilled hand catching the doorknob with ease as he closes it behind him, never once breaking eye contact with you. As he moves closer, looming over you, you lower your gaze. Clutched in his other hand was the discarded pump, noticeably banged up.

“I’m sorry, doctor.” Again, the words were too quiet.

“Speak up.” Dottore clutched your chin and forced you to meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry…” Your lip trembles as tears well up in your eyes, overcome with fear as you meet Dottore’s unreadable expression. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean…I wanted…I…they hurt, okay?”

A flash of concern flicked across Dottore’s face, but you felt as though it was a mirage, as Dottore’s neutral creepy smile still held onto his lips.

“What hurts? Your breasts?” Dottore’s calloused hands easily slipped under your loose top, flipping up the thin cloth and exposing your swollen tits.

His thumbs brushed over your puffy nipples, causing a short cry to escape you.

“Mm…that’s no good…”

He didn’t stop though, instead he continued kneading at your tits, causing a short spurt of milk to squirt out. He chuckled at the sight, eyes locked onto the drop of milk rolling down onto your plump belly and disappearing underneath the swell of your stomach.

“Looks like you still have more to give me,” he murmured, pushing you towards your bed. “Then, let’s try a gentler method…we don’t want our dear experiment suffering…no, they’ll grow best in a healthy AND happy environment…”

You gasped as he picked you up, the lanky scientist hiding his true strength underneath his long coats and button-up shirts. Ever so gently, he placed you down onto the bed, propping the pillows behind you. You obeyed his request to lift your arms, not wanting to agitate him further, and let him remove your shirt entirely. His large hands easily held up your boobs, but they still spilled out between his fingers. Dottore first pressed his face into the crook of your neck whispering things you couldn’t understand. He slowly moved down, his lips dragging from your collarbone, to the expanse of your breasts, and finally, to your nipple. He licked gently around the areola before flicking your sensitive nipple with his tongue. You could feel him smile against your breast as your nipple hardened, your arousal seeping through. His free hand continued to gently circle your other nipple as Dottore latched onto the first breast. A soft moan left you as he gently, so gently, sucked and massaged you, easing your milk into his mouth. He greedily swallowed it up, which didn’t surprise you at all. You figured he was sneaking some of your milk for himself rather than the slimes or whatever the hell he said it was for. You couldn’t think too hard about your disdain for the doctor, however, as you were snapped out of your thoughts by a deep moan.

It was Dottore, who had become increasingly eager to enjoy your milk. His red eyes met yours as you continued to breastfeed him, your face becoming quite hot as you realized how intimate the moment was. “Mm…looks like this one needs some love too,” he grinned, his sharklike teeth glinting dangerously. How easy it would’ve been for him to truly damage you with those, you thought absentmindedly, yet he did his best to ensure his touch was almost featherlike…

Once again, you were shocked out of your thoughts as Dottore licked a hot stripe up your tit to your leaking nipple. He sucked, much harder this time, on your tit, relishing your loud moans as he manhandled your other breast. After what felt like hours, but probably was barely minutes, he finally pulled back, satisfied. You let out a shuddering breath, opening your eyes (you had closed them?) to meet his still hungry gaze. A smile was playing with his lips again, but this time, his mouth was pressed closed, a drop of milk rolling down his chin.

“Mphf!”

Your mouth opened slightly in shock as Dottore pressed his lips against yours, a frantic kiss. His tongue pushed into you, hot milk spilling into your mouth, down your throat. It was sweet, so sweet, sweet enough to make you feel a little ill. How Dottore managed to stomach so much of it was beyond you, but his lips forcefully pressed against yours sent a clear message: swallow it, all of it.

Finally, he pulled back, allowing you to breathe (and gasp for air). He wiped the white liquid off his chin, a dazed grin on his face.

“Taste it…you see? Why I’m so obsessed with your milk?”

You nod, still panting.

He chuckles, pressing his face into the crook of your neck again, lazily massaging your tits. “Good, good…I’ll give you 24 hours, a break from that pump…and then I expect you serving me again like this, understood?”

“Haah…yes, doctor.”

You silently rejoiced in your mind, glad you somehow managed to convince the mad scientist to have it your way ❤️

Wow ok I swear I do not mean to write these long ass drabbles I just get carried away LMAO—I mean, I guess you don’t really mind? The only one suffering is my circadian rhythm (but fuck that shit anyways, right?)

—⌚️

DOTTORE LACTATION KINK MY BELOVED. ⌚️ MY BELOVED. a whole fanfic for free i am so blessed,,,, and with dottore being soft for you ooigghhg i love.

poor, poor darling who’s been more of a milk tap lately than a human being 😔 constantly hooked up to your pumps that suck and suck and suck at your nipples until they’re swollen and puffy from the constant irritation and it hurts so much you can’t help but cry sometimes. at least sometimes dottore is nice enough to offer you a bit of pleasure to dull the pain… though you’re not sure being used by a fuck machine from behind is supposed to comfort you as you’re being milked giving the intensity of the thrusts. he’s a big fan of switching it to the highest setting. it’s probably only a matter of time before he hooks you up to a little clit pump to match the pumps attached to your breasts, though of course the former is more for a torturous pleasure than it is for anything else.

at least all this milk is going towards a good cause… you wish you could rationalize. you fail to understand why this experiment is so important and why he needs such absurd amounts of milk from you— surely being hooked up to a pump for hours a day is a bit overzealous, right?—but it’s not like you’re much in the place to protest.

well, maybe you wouldn’t have to be milked for so long every day if he wasn’t dipping in to the supply that’s supposed to be for his experiments! when he’s sitting up in his office sipping a tall glass of your rich milk, that’s milk that could be going towards the experiment… but instead you have to make up the difference when dottore cheekily says that he lost the sample from the day before, that he clumsily dropped it while walking up the stairs, or that the experiment ended up… requiring more sustenance than originally thought. guess you better get back to pumping huh 🙏

#speaking of ⌚️ lemme free this from my drafts #cw lactation #cw pregnancy #dottore smut #⌚️ anon #spicy #il dottore x reader #dottore x reader #il dottore smut #fem reader

[deskgoblin]

Munch Miguel (1)

Became inspired by another user and decided to make my own spinoff version. Munch Miguel and Dominate Reader!~

NSFW Warnings: Dominitrix, oral stimulation, rude name calling, forced.

You perched upon the stool of an empty laboratory with your recent munch boy at your feet, licking up your inner thigh begging for a taste of the slick pending down your core. His half lidded eyes only tempting further down closed as your slender fingers interlace in his hair with a rough force against your leg. “So desperate today, go back down and up until your zipper pops open.” Miguel whimpers as you push him back down your leg only to start again, tempting his senses with your scent and your warmth on his tongue. His lips shaking as he kisses down your calf and lifts up your foot to his shoulder, peaking at the reward to be had at the end of this session. “Mi amor, please.. me torturas así~”. A smirk breaks out on your face as the heel of your shoe digs into his shoulder, forcing a whimper out of his reddened lips. “Patience is key, and you won’t be getting a treat if you’re so eager..” Miguel places your leg softly down onto the floor and looks up at you with winced eyes. “My calculus worksheet will be done tonight, munch.” “Yes, of course.” Your voice dropped to a seductive whisper with a tinge of frustration after checking the clock on the wall. “Don’t have much time..” You stand up from the stool and press the fatty flesh of your backside against it to prop yourself up as Miguel rises to his knees. He looks for permission in your shark-like eyes before you push the back of his head up to meet your bundle of nerves cohesively. His tongue immediately outstretches and his expression softens into bliss as his taste buds reverberate in excitement from your juices. His thumbs seem to find the plush parts of your thighs and he imprints into your skin just to sink in further, deepening his journey from lips to lips. “No, no~” His eagerness sends a shudder down your back but the power still remains in the ribbons of hair entangled in your fingers. You pull him back to roll his head backward, his neck fully exposed. Your breath grazes his sensitive spots as you bite down on his throat, a soft groan escaping his lips and the fabric around his waist tightens with ferocity that makes his dick pulsate with pain and pleasure. You let go of him roughly before abruptly standing from the stool completely and pulling down your skirt back into order. “Don’t disappoint with the upcoming assignments, dear~” As you leave the room, Miguel collapses to all fours panting heavily before quickly unzipping and pulling apart his pants. The release of pressure alone had ribbons of white excerpt from his body, pushing him to begin panting and trembling while whispering your name like a chant. His hips don’t stop slighting bucking as he rides out his orgasm, fogging his glasses and spattering the floor mixed with sweat, saliva, and his dedicated energy spilled on the floor. Your red bottom heels click on the floor as you enter your next class, not a single continued thought about the desperate man you edged.

#miguel o'hara #fanfic #smut #miguel x reader #m #miguel x you #atsv #atsv miguel #fanfiction #munch #smut miguel #miguel smut #spiderman #into the spider verse #nasty

[dahliarosebud]

omgomgomg billy hargrove enemies to lovers, the whole "i didnt know where else to go" trops

- Billy Hargrove x Reader

• Angst

• Part 2

• MAIN-MASTER-LIST

Warnings: implied abuse, bruises, mentioned guilt and fear

Synopsis: you show up on Billy’s doorstep

A/n: it is up to you what happened to y/n, implied enemies to lovers, part 2 can be requested in comments

------------

I swallowed the lump that had lodged itself in my throat from over half hour ago. I breathed in deeply, my chest stuttering uncomfortably. I have been stood here for what feels like five minutes. I raised my balled fist ready the knock, yet every time I hesitate.

God this is so stupid. What am I even doing here? We don't even like each other. He's a dick.

And, yet I signed my sentence. Gently I knocked on the wooden door. My stomach sank as the house remained silent, no light, no movement. A chill ran down my spine as my hair grew heavy with water, my top soaking and sticking to my skin.

The rains persistent mockery drenched me as I stood here like some fool. My patience thinning to the last thread, shifting from one foot to another. Then finally. Finally a light flickered on. The orange illuminated the house and sprayed distorted light across my face.

Heavy thumping steps made their way to the door, the only thing separating me from further humility. I chewed the inside of my cheek until the familiar metallic taste spilled onto my tongue. The door was angrily yanked open, causing me to jump.

The orange light spilled out, but a large figure blocked it from hitting me. "What?" he grumbled out. Always so angry. "What the fuck could you possibly want?" He questioned annoyance growing.

"Are you deaf? I said what do you want?" I took another deep breath, my chest still stuttering in a strange fear of rejection. He stared at me. My head down, ashamed. I watched as his fists clenched into a short fuse of rage.

I felt my eyes sting, as I heard his chuckle. "You're the one that showed up at my house, and you just stand there." he chuckled, "do you know what fuck this." I felt the lump return as I was now staring at his back.

"Wait." I whispered practically to nothing. "Wait please, Billy," I spoke louder this time. Reaching forward I grabbed his wrist tugging him back. He turned around quickly, breathing heavily with anger, fists balled and knuckles white. I closed my eyes ready for the pain.

But then he stopped. I cracked my eyes open, looking up at him. His body was still tense, but his fists were unclenched. "What the fuck. Who did that to you?" He spoke, in this weird soft gruff voice.

He reached towards my face his thumb ready to swipe under the swollen eye. I batted his hand away, my eyebrows creased. "Listen," I sighed, "I know we don't like each other, but Billy we both know I have seen the bruises and.." I looked down.

Guilt choked me, it's deathly grip keeping me from admitting the humiliating words. "I didn’t know where else to go...I have no one." He breathed, plucking the cigarette from his mouth. He threw it next to my shoes, breathing the rest of the smoke from his nose.

I stared up at him, my heart thundering in my chest as I awaited his verdict. I held my breath as I watched him flicker his gaze over my soaking form until it reached my swollen eye once again.

Cold air flooded through to my lungs as his hand pushed the door open further.

Part 2 ???

#x reader #billy #billy hargrove #hargrove #abuse #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x reader #x y/n #x you #stranger things #billy stranger things #billy hargrove stranger things #request #dahliarosebud