#[ but also this is him @ all of the muses that want to avoid him. sorry. come here. :) ]

[nightmarecountry]

you better watch out. you better watch out. you better watch out. you better watch o-

[gghostwriter]

Lips of a Gentleman

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Part 1 || Future take Summary: A spontaneous museum date alters your relationship with Spencer for the better Trope: Fluff! Just fluff! w.c: 1.2k a/n: This is actually an anon request about going on a museum date with Spencer and interrupting his ramblings with a kiss and I couldn’t help myself so I connected this to ‘Wanted: A Gentleman.’ I also used my favorite painter here as a prop to yap so I hope you like it! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! masterlist

It was a Saturday afternoon when the BAU team closed a serial killer case in the state of New York. They were called in four nights ago and the stress mixed with a high dose of adrenaline that had run through their veins were on it’s way out of their system, leaving all the members dead to their feet and wishing for much needed rest over the remaining weekend.

“Hotch,” Reid captured his unit chief’s attention as they waited for the remaining members, Morgan and Rossi, to come down from their respective hotel rooms. “I’d like to stay behind, if that’s alright.”

There was a minuscule eyebrow raise from Hotch in question.

“Huh,” Emily mused, a teasing smile appearing on her face. “Funny, there’s also a certain someone that we know—” she gestured to herself and JJ. “—who’s in New York today. Isn’t that right, JJ?”

The blonde profiler let out a laugh. “Yeah, I wonder if that has something to do with Spence staying behind.”

“Well, does it?” Emily lightly elbowed him in jest.

Spencer clears his throat, trying his best to come off casual but utterly failing with his voice going up an octave. “Maybe.”

“It’s the weekend, take your day off,” Hotch conceded. “And Reid, congratulations.”

“For what?”

A tenor voice answered behind him. Morgan, it was Morgan. “For finally getting a girlfriend.”

“Good on you, kid,” Rossi added on, patting his back as he made his way through.

———

Locks of hair were escaping your loosely tied bun as you brisk walked to get to the steps of the MET museum. The emergency meeting with suppliers ran a little later than you anticipated making you already fifteen minutes late from your agreed meet up with Spencer.

A smile graced your face as your thoughts settled on the perfect gentleman. It had been a perfect match made by your three friends, Emily, Penelope, and JJ.

A blind date that had gone so great that it blossomed another date and another. This spontaneous one marked as the fifth and it brought to mind the first meeting at the steps of the Smithsonian and Spencer’s chivalrous move of tying your loose shoe lace.

“I’m so sorry for being late,” your voice reaching Spencer’s ears before he spots you adjusting the straps of your falling shoulder bag approaching his form. “The supplier didn’t come on time so I—I’m sorry.”

He rocked on his heels, hands wrapped around his satchel strap. “That’s alright, I just arrived myself.”

You knew it was a lie but appreciated his effort in trying to make you feel better. That was just one of the many things you could see yourself falling for in Spencer. As if you weren’t already halfway there.

“Shall we?” His lips forming a smile, no doubt remembering those were the exact words he said during the first date.

You giggled, echoing the same response. “We shall.”

“So is there a specific section you want to visit first?” Spencer asked as he flashed two admission tickets at the entrance.

“Hm,” you scooted closer to his svelte protective form, avoiding the onslaught of tourists groups excitedly entering. “The gallery of European paintings?”

He smiled and nodded. His left hand hovering near the small of your back, never touching—its’ warmth penetrating the thick layers of your coat and sweater while the gesture made your heart flutter fast like the hummingbird’s wings.

There was comfortable silence in between you. Inconspicuous side glances and shy smiles that say a thousand more words that seemingly can’t or won’t be spoken out loud. The tranquility was a sharp contrast to the bustling and echoing noise all around the museum as guests discuss with their partners the surrounding art and take photos as personal mementos.

Your feet came to a stop in front of your favorite artist’s work. “I always did prefer his work more than Van Gogh.”

Spencer smiled, gaze warm on your side profile as his eyes traced the escaped locks of hair that framed the modern art standing beside him which was you and your expressive face. His fingers, as if hypnotized, reached out to tuck one side that casted a shadow on your feature behind your pinking ear. “Actually, when you look at Klimt’s early landscape paintings, you could see he took inspiration from the Dutch painter.”

“Really?” Your body twisting to face him.

He studied your body language. Arms limp at the sides, open and trusting. Torso slightly leaning forward, attention fully captivated. And eyes wide, twinkling with curiosity. “Yeah, yeah—” he nodded, his own body mimicking yours and its unsaid language. “—and although Klimt’s colors are stronger in contrast, the impact from having viewed Van Gogh’s paintings in his earlier life can be spotted in his brush strokes and painting subjects.”

“Spence, I hope you don’t take this the wrong way but you don’t strike me as an art critic. Is it a side of you that I’m only finding about now?” You teased.

“No,” he laughed, tucking his hands at the front of his jeans to fight the urge to touch you once more. “I read about it.”

“Can you tell me more then?” you further leaned in and whispered. “I bet you’d do a slightly better job than their pre-recorded audio tours.”

Spencer threw his head back and let a few chuckles echo on the walls. Your mind and its clever wit had impressed him since the first date. It was one of the many things he could see falling for in you. That was a half lie. In full truth, it was one of the many things that made him fall for you.

“Well, Klimt’s most expensive painting was previously stolen by the Nazis during WWII when they occupied Austria. Austrian Museum housed it after the war but there was a court battle for it and they had to return it the the family owner. And in 2006, Oprah actually bought it—” your smooth hands cupped his face, bringing his ramblings into a stuttering halt. His heartbeat, nestled within his ribcage, threatening to break from its confines as you stood on your tip toes, leaving a series of small kisses at ends of his mouth before landing on his awaiting lips.

“I—I’m so sorry,” eyes wide as you leaned back from his reach. A move that didn’t widen the gap as his body hunched itself forward, following you in its wake. “I couldn’t resist.”

He answered with a longer kiss, fingers twining with your silky locks of hair that had fascinated him since a while ago. “Don’t be. I’ve been wanting to do that too, I just didn’t know if you’d welcome it.”

You exhaled a giggle, cheeks pink with happiness. “You definitely can, anytime.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” his smile mirrored the euphoria written on your face. If he were to try to describe this very emotion, he’d compare it to walking on cloud nine. To winning a lottery. Or perhaps to finding an invaluable art piece meant just for him.

And while the surroundings were still dull and mundane, there were a burst of colors that splashed Spencer’s world anew as his warm comforting hand now finally found its way to yours and his thumb invisibly painting abstract at the back of your palm.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine telling Luffy about why you don’t like Shanks…

“Why are you always so upset with Shanks?” Luffy wondered.

You brushed the young boys damp curls and twirled a finger around each strand to define the shape.

“He and I used to travel the seas, you know? We fought sea beasts and all kinds of pirates together.”

Luffy leaned forward. “Really? Was it cool?”

“Very cool and dangerous.” You reminded him with a small hair ruffle to set him back on the chair properly. “We were caught in an ambush and I was injured. Shanks brought me home, promising that we’d set off again after I was healed.”

Luffy grew excited. Maybe if Shanks came for you, he could also be taken along for the journey.

“Are you healed? Do you know when he’ll take you?” He asked.

You frowned and replied rather bitterly. “I was healed up over four years ago.”

Shanks had the audacity to pay a visit these last few months and spend time with Luffy while pretending like nothing had happened. It infuriated you and Luffy clearly caught wind of it.

There was a knock at the door. Your eyes darted up to see Makino standing there with a smile for Luffy.

“The ship has made port.” She told the boy.

Luffy jumped off the seat and ran for the exit. “Sorry Y/n, I have to go!”

You sighed at his speed hoping that he’d be careful on his way to the docks.

Makino looked at you while you put the chair away. “Are you coming as well?” She asked and when you didn’t reply she continued. “He’s been asking for you.”

You glanced over your shoulder. “Tell him I-”

“I’m not telling him you drowned again. You’ll have to face him one way or another.” Makino said and then left to resume her duties at the bar.

Honestly, you’d rather not seek out the pirate who abandoned you. Let him have his fun. Yes, you couldn’t avoid him forever but you could reduce the hours in his presence.

And so that’s what you set out to do, you walked wherever the straw hat wasn’t. If he was at Party’s Bar, you were at home. If he was at the docks, you were by the furthest windmill.

You last saw the red-haired pirate downing a bottle of booze at the bar with his little curly haired shadow on the chair beside him. While they were busy, you decided to rearrange the furniture in your home finally able to tend to things that had been long neglected thanks to Luffy always running in and out of trouble.

Fixated on stacking books by the corner of the front room, you missed the soft padding of footsteps coming to a halt by the open door.

“I heard you ‘drowned’.” A voice said, sending chills down your spine. “Imagine my surprise when Luffy told me that you did his hair this morning.”

Shanks mused at you as he stood by the threshold of your door.

Damn, when did he leave the bar? You rolled your eyes and then turned around to place a blanket into a wooden drawer near to where he stood.

“Odd.” You hummed. “I thought you would have welcomed a lie? Aren’t you filled with them or is that only when they’re directed at me?”

Shanks stepped into the room and took your hand to stop you from walking to the next task. He knew exactly what you were referring to. For months you both had avoided the topic by the way you dodged him but this was finally the opening he needed to clear the air.

“I never lied. I fully intended to come back here in three months. But each danger I faced, every terror that sailed into our path and all I could see was the risk of losing you.”

You scoffed at him. Captain Shanks of the Red-haired Pirates was scared? You were surprised his nose hadn’t grown.

Not wanting to talk further, you attempted to leave the house entirely when the man who stole your heart caught you once more.

“Hey,” Shanks took the reins and guided you to the wall, gently bracing you against it. He was tired of the anger of the anger in your eyes, only wanting you to see him like you once did. His hands settled in their rightful place on your waist.

“There are very few things that I am afraid of - but from that list, the fear of losing you is at the very top.”

As you stared in his warm eyes, you were reminded of a saying he often said aboard calmer seas and private moments.

Shanks gazed back at your face, the one he was deprived of seeing each day. He brought one hand to rest against your chest and raised your own to sit above his own. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours in a delicate kiss before pulling away gently.

“I’m not a selfish man by nature.” He whispered. “But for your life and your love, I can be.”

~ More imagines here ~

[getosfavoritewife]

The Sun Always Rises

✮⋆˙ General Jing Yuan has a way of bringing sunlight to you, regardless of how much you avoid the warm rays. (1.5k words)

✮⋆˙ A/N: first post!! jing yuan has such a lazy/cozy feel and I'm still trying to gauge his personality so sorry if it's a bit ooc!!

✮⋆˙ Warning(s)/Content: forgemaster!reader; implications of mental health concerns (nothing heavy); can be read as platonic or romantic; fluffy fluff, teasing

✮⋆˙ jing yuan x gn!reader

Hearing three knocks against your door on a sunny winter evening could only signify one thing.

Not even trying to conceal the lack of surprise on your face, you open the door for your expected visitor; as usual, Jing Yuan greets you with a pleasant smile, hands comfortably clasped behind his back as he strides in like he owns the place, opens the curtains, and makes himself at home.

“Arbiter General,” you murmur, almost as if scripted.

“Forgemaster,” he replies in turn with a twinkle in his eyes, also as expected.

You don’t ask if he wants tea, opting to pour two cups and place them on the table as you both sit down. Forgemaster Yingxing had always taught you to be polite to guests, but that was a very long time ago, and Jing Yuan wasn’t just any guest.

“There’s a festival in Aurum Alley this evening,” Jing Yuan muses as he eyes the tea with interest, picking the small cup up as he gives the hot liquid a gentle blow and careful sip.

You know where he’s going with this, so at this point, the best course of action is feigned indifference and avoidance. “And you came all the way over here to let me know? Especially during such a busy day at The Seat of Divine Foresight?”

You take a ginger sip of the tea, grimacing as it burns the tip of your tongue, before placing it back down on the table. Master Yingxing’s tea was far superior to yours anyway—if he could see the hot garbage you’d brewed, he would have scolded your skills all afternoon.

Jing Yuan’s voice brings you out of your thoughts. “Astute as always. You should get out of the house more.”

“I leave the house,” you try not to sound defensive, squinting at the man sitting across from you. “I go to the forge every day.”

“Other than there?”

“And… I went to the market last week,” you grumble, rooting around in your brain for excuses. Lamely, all you come up with is a throwaway line about being too busy that you know Jing Yuan won’t buy. Anyone else would accept the lies that rolled off your tongue like second nature, but not Jing Yuan. He knew you and your habits all too well.

He stands up, dusting his pants off with a lazy smile. “Wonderful, grab your coat.”

“No, Jing Yuan. No.” You respond too quickly, shooting up as you wrack your brain for an excuse.

The softness with which he calls your name is lost to the roaring silence of the room and you know what face he’s making without even looking.

That corner above the cupboard really needs dusting. Master Yingxing would sneeze because of the dust, and he’d blame allergy season. Maybe tonight—

“Only for a little while,” he coaxes, as he swipes a strand of hair from obscuring your eyes. Maybe that’s what makes you meet his eyes: golden and full of life as usual, albeit with his dark circles that seemed worse than before.

“I’ll think about it,” you sigh tiredly, reaching up to run your fingers under his eyes. “You should sleep more, Jing Yuan. You look tired.”

A laugh rumbles out of him at that as he closes his eyes and leans into your touch. You can’t help but let the corners of your mouth quirk up in response. “Don’t let the others at The Seat of Divine Foresight hear you say that.”

“If only you would stop sneaking away at the sight of paperwork, maybe they wouldn’t be so wary of your work ethic,” you scold halfheartedly.

Jing Yuan simply watches you, an adoring smile peeking out that makes you want to push him away from you, embarrassed. Instead, you card your fingers through his hair, murmuring how his ribbon is coming loose as you free it from his snowy locks.

He sighs, letting his eyes flutter shut as you tug through his fluffy hair, replicating his usual hairstyle with practiced ease. You let your thoughts wander to when you used to re-tie his hair every day after it came loose during sparring while Master Yingxing went to go meet with sword master Jingliu and the others.

“How’s Yanqing’s training coming along?” Breaking the delicate silence, your voice always sounds unfamiliar these days; the results of less use, you suppose.

A golden eye cracks open to peer at you, and Jing Yuan lets out another sigh, this time more rueful. “You know how he tends to be. It still surprises me the speed with which he is able to pick up on new techniques and skills, but that obsession with winning and losing…” Jing Yuan trails off. “It’s like I say, if you treat him as a child, he'll put on the airs of an adult. If you treat him as an adult, he'll show the temperament of a child.”

“It’s a difficult age. Remember how you used to be?”

You bite back a snicker at the mock-offended look Jing Yuan shoots you.

“I don’t quite remember it like that,” he says. “I believe I was a joy to be around at every age.”

“I’m sure you remember it like that.”

“How else could you remember it?”

You take a break from playing with his hair to flick him on the forehead, at which he lets out a soft hiss, rubbing the small red mark and catching your hand before you can give him another one. “So mean.”

With a scoff, you make no move to remove your hand from his grip, letting yourself relax in his grasp. “You were nothing short of a terror. Anytime I tried to hang out with you it was always ‘Let’s spar here!’ or ‘Extra training is basically hanging out!’. I got so sick of you that I told Master Yingxing to stop meeting Master Jingliu when I was around.”

“Was I… really like that?” You can’t help but laugh at Jing Yuan’s face, ignoring the smile creeping onto his face at the sight of your laughter.

“All I’m saying is that he’ll grow out of it, just like you did. Kids are desperate to prove themselves at that age. You ought to praise him a little more,” you advise him softly.

“I give praise where it is deserved,” Jing Yuan places your clasped hands on his chest with fake affrontedness, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he huffs in amusement.

“Yet I am expected to praise you even when you are undeserving?”

“I hadn’t realized there were times where I was ever undeserving of praise?” You can’t help to smack him with the hand that was resting on his chest as he pretends to ponder.

“Speaking of Yanqing though—” you start before Jing Yuan interrupts.

“I thought we were speaking about me?”

The roll of your eyes seemed to simply be an intrinsic reaction to Jing Yuan’s teases after all these years of dealing with his painfully fatherly sense of humor.

“General.”

The pleased smile on his face only curled higher. “I’m listening.”

“As I was saying, Yanqing’s birthday is approaching this month. Maybe it’s time he finally receives a sword from the Forgemaster on his birthday this year?”

“I can already imagine his tears of joy. He still asks when he can meet you sometimes. I admit I have yet to give him an answer in fear that he will spend every moment not used for training to instead bother you incessantly at your forge.”

“Like father, like son, I suppose. Send him around—it’s truly no bother. It would also help me figure out a suitable blade for him.”

You pretend to not see the way Jing Yuan’s brows knit together at your teasing jab.

“Come watch us train sometime soon. To help you gauge his fighting style, of course,” Jing Yuan remarks lightly.

“Of course,” you echo. Giving him a look before sighing, you grab your coat off the hook, opening the door for him as you slip it on. “Only for a little while at the festival, please. And no buying or winning me anything while we’re there.”

Jing Yuan doesn’t even try to hide the smile unfurling on his face and you know the next words that come out of his mouth are bound to be an easy lie. “Wouldn’t dream of anything else, Forgemaster.”

From spending every free minute together as kids to only seeing him when he came knocking on your door every single day. No matter what happened, the sun always rose the next day. And no matter what happened, your Jing Yuan was always there.

thanks for reading!! ✮⋆˙

[washeduphazbin]

Could I get a one shot of, y/n is like Adam’s life ex gf she left after getting tired of his shit.. ended up falling in love with Lucifer.. (Mr. Steal yo girl thrice) and during the Adam and Lucifer battle Lucifer taunts that he stole all three of his lovers

YES. YES. I'm in love with Lucifer. Your wish is my command.

Sorry it's so short if we like maybe part 2

Also, poly luci x reader x Lilith (sorry, not sorry)

———

“Little duck?” Lucifer asked softly, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. You were holding onto one of his plush ducks rather tightly,

"I can't help but think...that this extermination is my fault." Lucifer let out a gasp and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, "Lulu-"

"I won't have that negative self-talk in my house." Your brow furrowed in distress,

"But-"

"No buts."

"Lucifer! Adam's absolutely moved up the extermination to spite Charlie and us!" You argued, "I...what if I go back to him."

"Excuse me, what?"

"I don't want to!" You moved away from him to the portrait of Lilith, you and Lucifer hanging in the corner of the room. "I really don't want to..." You raised your hand and brushed against Lilith's horns and Lucifer's staff in the portrait. "You know I don't belong here; I'm not a demon, a sinner, or an angel either. I'm just a human who fell because I fell in love with you and your family." You smiled sadly over at him, holding out your hand. Lucifer squeezed it tightly, "What if I can solve all of this by just going back with Adam."

"That's not happening; I'm not letting you go back to that fuckwad;" He scoffed, brushing a hand through your hair, "Do you think you'll be happier with him? Without us? Without Charlie?"

"No." You laughed bitterly, "Of course not, Charlie would kill me."

"She absolutely would. You're like another mother to her; she wouldn't let you go back to that hellscape without a fight. Neither will I; I have a few words I'd love to share with Adam."

"Oh yeah? What would you say?"

"I'm sure you'll get to hear it eventually," he mused, leaning closer to kiss your cheeks. "Just stay safe and stay away from the Hotel until Charlie or I give you the okay, okay?"

"Okay." You whispered softly, bending down to plant a kiss on his lips,

"Did you really have to bend down like that," He huffed, hitting you gently with his cane.

"Oh, absolutely."

---

"Stay home? STAY HOME?" You roared, grabbing Lucifer's shoulders, "Everyone dying, and you want me to stay home!"

"For your safety and everyone's safety. Yes." He squeezed your shoulders tightly, "If it's between you and Charlie, I-"

"You choose Charlie every time."

"I love you-"

"I know. I love you too." You smiled softly, "Kick Adam in the dick for me?"

"It would be my pleasure, my lady. Here," Lucifer handed you his phone, "It'll live stream the battle; I hacked a VoxTech drone." He puffed his chest out proudly, and you beamed, taking his phone from his hands.

"I can't wait to see Adam get dick punched in HD!"

"There's the bloodlust I love so much; if I didn't have to go save Hell, I'd totally fuck you right now."

"Then you better leave now so you can come back and fuck me as soon as possible."

"Yes, ma'am!" He gave the dorkiest salute before teleporting out of the room.

---

"I am going to FUCK you!"

"It's fuck you up...dad."

Your face palmed, curling up on the bed, Lucifer's phone in your hand, watching the live stream.

"What? What did I say? Oh Shit-" Lucifer burst into laughter as he transformed into a snake to avoid being hit by Adam, "So this is what you've been up to since Eden, huh? I gotta you really let yourself go, buddy."

"Are you judging me?" Adam snarled in a disbelieving laugh, "You're the most hated being in all of creation!" Lucifer snickered as he turned into a bird,

"Well, your first wife didn't seem to hate what I had to offer, or the second bow chica. Wow, wow!" He splayed his fingers out in a V shape and stuck his tongue in between his fingers, "Not to mention your third."

"I'm sorry what!" He snarled,

"Oh, you didn't know? (Y/n)'s a doll, the tightest pussy Lilith and I've EVER shared!"

You made a horrified sound at the phone, wanted to absolutely curl up into a ball and die, Charlie didn't look any better.

"Dad!"

"You are so dead!" Adam shouted, "And I'm gonna find that bitch, and I'm going to make her pay!"

"Sure you are," he snorted, "I'd like to see you try."

[greatdenimbeast]

Hey there, I was wondering if Tails has a presence in the Diamond Castle AU?

Sorry if it this same or anything similar been asked before. I might be an insane dumb enjoyer of all that is the two tailed fox but, I totally get if they’re very minor, a character of antiquity of the Au or, just not in it.

My apologies for the ramble, I just wanted to get across that I’m not trying to force the character into your story.

yes tails is in the au!! He’s one of sonic’s attendants and is also a cloud nymph

his tails are literal clouds and they can growl to whatever size he wants and he usually just lays on them when he’s busy being a cloud!!

i honestly had a. Bit of trouble with coming up with what tails is up to fztdyxjyfi

cuz like i def wanted him to be Sonic’s attendant, 100%, but the problem with that is i just don’t picture Sonic ever getting an attendant the same way Shadow got his. he got turned into god against his will so he views this as kind of burden and curse so he wouldn’t wish that upon anyone

so i had to think about ways to go about this without turning Tails into a god when it hit me that i could just make Tails a nymph, cuz nymphs have longer lifespans than mortals!

he spied sonic, post being turned into a god, dancing in the gardens of the castle and decided to follow him around in cloud form while Sonic avoided his responsibilities to run, laze around and help a few mortals.

Tails thought this guy was the coolest guy ever but, since Sonic was a new guy, Tails didn’t know exactly who he was, he just guessed he was an attendant of one of the muses or smthn

eventually sonic noticed him and snuck up on tails to shock him out his cloud form

they got to talking and chilling and eventually (probably due to mephiles nagging him to get a move on and get attendants already) Sonic asked Tails if he’d wanna be his attendant and Tails accepted!

[roosterr]

white flag ✹ ch 1

note: tysm for all the support on the first part! it made me so happy to see that people were enjoying it!! also sorry if you're not british bc i'm british-ing the reader in this story lol.

pairing: ghost x gn!reader

wc: 3.2k

no use of y/n reader's callsign is 'stingray'

summary: you decide to walk to work with ghost instead of driving yourself. what could possibly go wrong.

warnings: ghost is a bit mean again, reader is going through it, some angst, a lil bit of fluff at the end

ao3

【prev】 || 【next】

you didn't sleep well these days. your dreams are more often than not consumed with your newfound fear of fire – something you'd be taking to the grave, rather than give ghost something new to grill you about. the memories of waking up to your house filled with smoke haunted you, ever present in the back of your mind, even as you slept. it was all you could think about. distracting yourself with work had been effective so far, so that was how you'd continue until it either went away or became a bigger problem.

in the week since the fire, you'd yet to actually see ghost in the morning before you both went to work. it was like you were living with an actual ghost. you would never see him, but every now and then you'd hear a noise from upstairs and be reminded that he exists. honestly, it was kind of a relief – he obviously didn't want to see you any more often than necessary, and as much as his avoidance hurt you, you're not sure you could handle being berated before you've had your morning coffee.

he stayed out of the living room, for which you're thankful. you're overly aware of how unhappy he is having someone who is essentially a stranger occupying his home, and you're glad he's allowed you some modicum of privacy.

today, however, you'd woken up early by some grace of the gods and decided that, instead of going back to sleep for an extra forty-five minutes, you'd get an early start to the day.

that of course meant that you encountered your ever elusive lieutenant in the kitchen, as you sit at the incredibly small table drinking your mug of incredibly sweet coffee. you'd just finished off a bowl of cereal when he appeared in the corner of your vision, and you jump slightly when you notice him.

"...morning." you utter, somehow surprised to see him standing in the doorway as if this wasn't his house in the first place. unsurprisingly, ghost doesn't respond, he simply puts the kettle on and starts making himself a cup of tea, all without looking at you once. you can't help but sigh at how he blatantly ignores you, but it's not out of character for him, so you resign yourself to sipping your coffee in silence.

you watch as he shuffles around the kitchen, his large frame making the space look even more tiny, if that was even possible. somewhere in the back of your mind you wonder if he sleeps in his balaclava, since it didn't look like he'd even washed his face since you saw him yesterday.

when he suddenly turns and meets your eyes, you freeze and quickly look down. of course he knew you were staring at him, why wouldn't he? he always seemed to be acutely aware of every mistake you make, much to your chagrin. heat rises to your cheeks and you subtly clear your throat from the embarrassment of being caught. you can't see what expression he's making, but you'd be willing to bet he was giving you that patented death glare.

"do you walk to base? every morning?" you ask, if only to break the painfully awkward silence between you. a moment passes of you looking at him expectantly as he finishes making his tea.

"yeah." his mumble is barely audible, and you have to strain to hear it despite sitting less than two metres away from him.

"but it's, like, a half hour walk," you muse, tilting your head at him. it made sense, you supposed, you already knew he didn't have a car, and it would explain why he always left so early.

"twenty-five if you're quick about it." he mutters, turning away from you to face the window. you see him lift his mask over his nose and bring his cup up to his lips. there's another beat of silence between you as you stare holes into the back of his head.

"do you, uh… want a lift?" you ask, hesitancy lacing your voice. he's still facing away from you as he downs the rest of his tea, setting the cup down in the sink. 

"no."

"okay…" your voice trails off, quieter than before. it doesn't matter that you expected it, his blunt dismissiveness never fails to make your stomach sink. as you finish off your own drink, an idea lights up your eyes. you stand up, bringing your cup and bowl and placing them in the sink, before turning to ghost. "then i'll walk with you." you give him a warm smile, taking note of how he quickly pulls his mask back down as you look at him and the way his eyes widen the slightest amount at your words.

"no–" he begins, shaking his head, but you're already set on the idea.

"just let me grab my jacket," you give him another small smile, and without another word, you disappear into the living room – your very makeshift bedroom – to search for where you discarded your jacket when you got home the night before.

when you come back out to the entryway, hiking your jacket over your shoulders, the first thing you notice is ghost's boots are no longer by the door. you poke your head into the kitchen, and find the spot in front of the sink where he was standing distinctly empty.

the bastard left without you.

with a whispered string of curses, you pull on your own boots as quickly as you can manage, and race out the door after him. you get a few paces down the path before you remember you have to lock the door behind you, practically sprinting back to it and securing it at record speed. in less than a minute, you're running down the road after ghost's retreating form, swearing under your breath the whole way.

when you finally catch up to him, he doesn't even spare you a glance as you try and catch your breath beside him.

"damn you walk fast…" you huff, straightening your jacket and looking up at ghost. he gives you a look out of the corner of his eye, but still doesn't say anything. "well, you're not shaking me that easily, l.t."

"anyone ever told you you're a pain in the arse?" he grumbles, shoving his hands in his pockets.

you mirror his movement, raising a brow at him. "yeah, you do – all the time actually." 

his gaze darts to you for a split second, almost unnoticeable, and then he's back to looking straight ahead like you're not there. there's nothing you want more in that moment than to know what he's thinking, but you'll just have to make do with his blank expression.

"so, uh…" you clear your throat, drawing a blank on anything you could talk to him about. "so, what's your favourite colour?" you cringe as soon as the words pass your lips, but it's too late to stop yourself now. "you strike me as a forest green kinda guy."

"god, shut up sting." he sighs, glancing briefly at you with a frown you can see through the balaclava. you frown back, throwing your hands out in exasperation.

"so you really wanna just walk in silence all the way to work?" you ask, jogging slightly to catch up with him as he takes a corner you weren't expecting.

"didn't wanna walk with you in the first place." he says, his shoulders hunched with tension. "you're more than welcome to drive yourself."

"i'm just trying to be friendly."

"well… save your breath." he mutters. you think you hear a hint of sadness lacing his tone, but you can't be sure.

"then i won't bother on the way back, how about that?" you reply, hoping that your voice doesn't betray the disappointment you feel.

he doesn't say another word for the rest of the time it takes the two of you to walk to base. you're left essentially talking to yourself, while he gives you the silent treatment. it's disappointing, but not at all surprising – a feeling you've become familiar with around him.

you point out a woman walking her dog that you thought was cute, but he only hums and continues staring ahead. you comment on a fox in the road, but he pretends not to have heard you. any attempt you make to get him to engage again, he shoots you down every time. it's almost enough to make you give up, but you really do want him to like you, if only because you live together and not because of your admiration for him.

when you finally arrive at base, you don't bother trying to keep pace with him anymore. the commute, which in reality was only about thirty minutes, felt more like hours thanks to ghost's avoidance. you watch with a defeated expression as he disappears around the corner ahead of you and decide to go to the rec room, in the hopes that your more friendly teammates will be there.

"sting! there you are!" soap's voice from your left draws your attention as you walk through the door, and you give him and gaz a smile as you make your way over to where they're sitting. "was worried you got lost or somethin'."

"did you walk with ghost?" gaz asks. you nod, flopping down onto the sofa next to him with a quiet groan.

"yeah, but he basically just ignored me the whole way." you sigh, your disappointment evident in your voice. they both nod in understanding, having expected as much from your icy lieutenant.

"surprised he didn't shove you into a bush and leave you there." gaz chuckles, patting your shoulder as you rub a hand over your eyes.

"honestly? me too."

soap jumps up from his seat next to gaz and comes to sit on your other side. "how's it been, living with him?" he asks, his voice teasing. you groan again, and squeeze your eye shut.

"it's great," you grumble, resping your elbows on your knees and hiding your face on your hands, "now i get told i'm annoying at home and at work."

before either of them can respond, price's voice interrupts from the doorway "come on, you lot get a move on, we've got work to do." he commands, and with a quiet 'yes sir' the three of you get up and follow after him.

the rest of the day went by in a blur, in part thanks to the unfulfilling sleep you'd been having lately; the sofa-bed left a lot to be desired, paired with the adjustment period your body needed whenever you sleep somewhere new.

thankfully you didn't need to do anything too taxing today; paperwork, training, and due to an unfortunate bet, you were stuck doing inventory for the next month. it was your own fault, really, you should've known better than to make a bet with soap.

by the end of the day, you're practically dead on your feet and more than ready to get home and collapse into your horribly uncomfortable bed. you're on your way out when you remember, you don't have your car, because you walked here. so you have to walk back. with ghost.

as you drag your feet through the winding corridors, your eyes drift to the window to see that it's now raining – and quite heavily, at that. as luck would have it, you actually keep a spare umbrella on top of your locker for situations exactly like this. rolling your eyes to yourself, you turn around on your heel and make your way quickly back towards the locker room. the sun was already setting, and you still had to find ghost, preferably before it got too dark.

well, you didn't have to find him, but since you'd walked here together, you wanted to walk back with him too – no matter how grumpy he was. even if you walked in complete silence, you'd still enjoy the company.

you push the locker room door open with your shoulder, beelining for your locker along the back wall. you reach a hand up and feel around for your umbrella on top, cringing at the feeling of dust all over your hand. when you don't find it, you frown. you could've sworn you left it up there. you step up onto one of the benches nearby to get a better look, but it's still nowhere to be found.

someone stole your fucking umbrella.

you let out an irritated groan. did the higher powers have something against you? why has everything been going wrong for you lately? you have to take a second, standing on the bench in the empty locker room, to compose yourself before you burst into tears from the frustration of it all.

more than anything you just wanted to go home; but your home was gone, and now you live in a house with a man who probably couldn't care less whether you made it back or not, and to top it all off you had to walk back in the pouring rain with him with no umbrella.

now, as you make your way back to ghost's office, you're marching through the corridors with frustrated desperation; you needed to go to sleep and not wake up until you need to go to work again on monday. you're not even sure you could face going to the pub with the others this weekend, something you usually enjoy no matter how much you're aching.

you arrive outside his office, but the light is off and the door's locked when you try it. you get a sinking feeling in your chest as you think back to this morning. maybe he was just waiting by the exit?

as quickly as you can manage, you head to the front of the building, where you'd come in that morning, but when you round the corner, there's no one there. you sniffle, trying to bottle your frustration for when you're alone, and decide to try one last option before calling it a day.

you lean around the door into the rec room, spotting a group of a few privates you don't know the names of sitting around a table, playing some card game.

"have you guys seen lieutenant ghost?" you ask them, your exhaustion clearly showing on your face by the way they look between themselves before responding.

"uhm, yeah, i think i saw him leaving about an hour ago?" one of them answers.

"oh." you mutter, blinking dumbly as you process his words. "right, thanks."

the bastard left without you.

again.

it takes you a great deal of restraint not to scream.

the journey back in the dark, by yourself, is painful, to put it lightly. you get splashed by passing cars exactly twice, and you're practically soaked to the bone within the first ten minutes of walking.

the lights are on when you finally round the corner and have the house in your sights. you almost slip on the small patch of grass outside, but manage to save yourself that embarrassment and stay upright.

you wrench the door open, stepping inside and dripping on the entryway floor as you slam it behind you. you wipe your hand over your face, flicking the excess rain onto the floor as well before sharply tugging your boots off and dropping them next to ghost's.

you move to stand in the doorway to the kitchen, glowering at your lieutenant who stands in his usual spot by the window with a nice warm cup of tea in his hand.

well, good for him.

"dickhead." you hiss, taking note of how he seems to be perfectly content and, most importantly, dry. he sets his cup down on the counter next to him and turns his body to face you, expression consistently unreadable with the mask covering him.

"...figured you'd left already." he mutters, his eyes flickering to your soaking wet clothes and then back up to your face, not quite meeting your seething gaze.

"no you didn't." you spit, wiping your eyes sharply as more water drips into them. "you just didn't wanna deal with me. well, you got your peace and quiet, i hope you're happy."

"thought you had an umbrella?" his voice is quieter still, and you think you see his eyebrows pull upwards with what could've been concern, but you brush the thought off.

"i did, before somebody fucking nicked it."

"that's–"

you appear back in the kitchen doorway, throwing your hands out to your side with a wobbly frown. "you win, alright? i'll–" you can't help the way your voice cracks, "i'll stop trying to be friends with you. i'll leave you alone. you win."

and with that, you storm into the living room, slamming the door behind you before he can get another word in – before the dam breaks and you can no longer stop the tears from falling. your knees give out and you sink to the floor where you stand, leaning your back against the door and burying your tear-stained face in your hands.

you just want to go home, but this isn't home and you're afraid it never will be. it hurts, a lot, that no matter how hard you try, you never make any progress with him, and even though you said you'd give up trying, deep down you knew it was a lie. more than anything, you just wanted him to like you; it didn't even matter of he never cared about you the same way you cared for him, you were just so tired of being hated.

it takes you the better part of ten minutes to gain control of your breathing again, and another five to gather the strength to stand. you muster just enough energy to tug your soaked clothes off and change into your pyjamas before collapsing into the sofa-bed and burying yourself in the blankets.

you must've drifted to sleep at some point, because the sound of the door opening startles you awake. with a tired frown decorating your face, you sit up and turn around. to your utter surprise, you see ghost standing half in the doorway, illuminated from behind by the hall light, holding something out that you can't quite see in the darkness.

for a moment all you can do is sit in silence, staring and waiting for him to say something.

"...what's that?" you finally ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

"hot chocolate." he replies in a similar tone, taking a small step forward. you blink and open your mouth to say something, but no words come to mind. so instead you take the cup from him, and let it warm your hands as you take a sip.

"how'd you know i like hot chocolate?" he's about to leave when you ask, his body already poised to disappear. he turns his head back to look at you, never quite meeting your eyes.

"belarus, last year." he mutters, "you ordered it. in the caff."

you're not quite sure what to say, so you settle on a confused, "...thanks?"

"if you get a cold, it'll be your head, sergeant." he tells you, the slightest trace of something teasing in his voice, before stepping out of your sight.

"copy that." you mumble after him, a faint smile pulling at your lips as the door clicks shut again.

maybe he would warm up to you after all.

taglist: @sofasoap , @siilvan , @i-love-ghost , @projectdreamwalker , @rafaelcallinybbay , @shuttlelauncher81 , @achelois-is-here , @adamsloverboy , @thatchickwiththecamera , @chickensandwich69 , @batmanunicorns523 , @tiny-kasper , @dezibou , @pampeop , @cumbermovels , @goth-boi-atlas , @berryjuicyy

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[jaylaxies]

KINKTOBER DAY 18 — TOYS

PAIRING: haechan x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, use of toys (vibrator, hand cuffs, and dildo), mutual masturbation, usage of nicknames, haechan is a perv and so are you.

WC: 1.3k words

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, angels! hyuck and @jaeminvore never fail to make me go feral istg, i hope you all enjoy reading this :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33

✎ kinktober masterlist

“If you wanted it so much then you could have just asked for it, sweetheart.”

The voice snapped you out of your daze, eyes opening to see a very smug smile plastered onto your roommate’s face, having caught you in the act of pleasuring yourself with what? A mere vibrator.

You were beyond embarrassed, also frozen as you did not expect to see him back at your shared apartment so early. He was solid two hours early as per his usual schedule, which gave you the perfect opportunity to play with yourself in the privacy of your room, not caring about being loud whenever he was out.

Problem? It was your roommate you always fantasized about while giving attention to your needy cunt, he was irresistibly attractive, and so was your insatiable need to have him, yet you couldn’t quite go to tell him the same, to maintain the decorum of being roommates and all.

Now, Haechan wasn’t a saint by any means. He had lost the count of times he had successfully stolen your panties (especially your white lace ones with the small bow in the middle), from the laundry basket, using the already soiled cloth to jerk off, wrapping it around his cock, his cum straining it further (but you did not need to know about that).

He too was equally as depraved when it came to fantasies—you being the reason and root of the core for the majority of his fantasies at least.

So, when he returned home early, only to hear your sweet moans lingering in the air, he knew he had to take his chances and intrude in hopes of catching you in the act.

What he did not expect, however, was to hear you whimper out his name with your eyes closed, legs spread enough to give him the clearest view of your wetness, along with the pink vibrator which you had been using to stimulate your swollen clit.

That’s exactly when he said that sentence, making you halt your movements altogether, yours legs closing with panic when he took a step inside the room.

“Though, I’m really offended if you think that a measly little vibrator will make you feel half as good as I can,” he spoke up, clicking his tongue before pushing it against his inner cheek, something he did when he was annoyed, or feigned annoyance if you take the current situation into consideration.

“Fuck! Hyuck, I—I’m so sorry, I didn’t know y—you’d be home,” you stated rambling, covering yourself up by side, avoiding eye contact at all costs, but he was quick to chuckle hearing your sentence.

“Shh, darling. You should be happy I’m here to help now. And since I’m so generous, I’ll be keeping the punishment time short,” he mused with amusement, yet you could see the glimpse of darkness in his eyes, swarmed with the desire he’s been holding back all this while.

You gulped, your hands barely hiding your tits as Hyuck shamelessly gave your body a once over, mumbling pretty under his breath.

“What do you mean? P—punishment?” You whispered, and Hyuck could have sworn the sight of you being confused and breathless made him want to ruin you.

He walked closer, leaning against your bed and closing the distance between you two, lips brushing against each other in a gentle caress, which sent a shiver down your spine. You could feel just how soft his lips felt, and you hadn’t even kissed him.

“So fucking cute,” he chuckled, “now be a good girl and open your legs for me if you wanna be fucked properly,” he whispered, his warm hand resting on your thigh, parting them and you gasped when the sudden gust of cold air hit your wetness.

“Fucked? Wait, Hyuck what?” You mumbled, lips on the verge of touching his and your heart felt weaker than ever.

“Just follow what I say, yeah?” He raised his brows, nodding and you found yourself in a daze, nodding back.

Then he leaned back, not giving you the kiss you were so desperately waiting for, rather, he bent down to get a box from below your bed, your eyes widening because Hyuck was not supposed to know where you hid your box of sex toys.

“Be good and you’ll get what you want, baby,” he smirked, seeing how innocent you looked, especially when he handcuffed your hands to the bedpost, getting your blue vibrating dildo out and keeping it beside you.

Your eyes were fixated on his figure, your breath hitching when he took off his T-shirt in one go, exposing his pretty melanin and the faintest abs, which was probably the prettiest sight you had even seen.

He then sat down on the couch right in front of your bed, spreading his legs as he sat, hand resting on his hardening cock. The print of his length was visible through his shorts, your mouth open and dry as the thoughts of wanting to have him in your mouth took over.

“Get that toy, baby. Let me see you pleasure yourself,” he urged, voice sultry and eyes hooded.

“Wait—you won’t touch me?” You asked, sitting with your one wrist cuffed, disappointment clear in your voice.

“So eager to be touched by me, sweetheart? First show me how much you want it,” he said, palming his cock through his pants.

Your body felt warm. Hyuck’s aura was strong, his gaze even stronger and you found yourself following his directions simply because you wanted to be good for him, your subspace pulling you right in.

“C’mon, baby. Show me how you use that dildo, and think of me while you do it,” he commanded.

You picked it up from your free hand, shyly spreading your legs to make space for it, switching it on and rubbing it all over your wet folds, eyes closing as you thought about Hyuck’s tongue, wanting it to replace the toy.

“Hyuck,” you whispered, the toy prodding at your entrance.

“Fuck,” he bit his lip, the sight in front of him was lewd yet the most innocent thing ever, he couldn’t help but get rid of his shorts, stroking his fully hardened cock now.

“Good girl, put it in your tight little cunt,” he said.

You nodded, eyes still closed and breathing ragged, a low moan leaving your lips, which caused Hyuck’s cock to twitch as you pushed the vibrating phallic in you, thighs closing and opening again at the sensation.

A whine of his name left your mouth again, and he could have sworn it was the prettiest sound he had ever heard. You continued your ministrations, leaving the dildo in your cunt and pressing a small vibrator on your clit, doubling the feeling of your unadulterated pleasure, your eyes watering when you saw him fucking his fist at the sight of you touching yourself.

It was too hot for you to handle.

“Yes, baby. Let go for me,” he whispered, watching your body shake and a tear falling down your cheek.

That’s it, that was your punishment—watching Hyuck touch himself but not touching you, which left you frustrated.

An irritated sound left your lips, causing him to chuckle and approach you again.

“What’s wrong, darling? Not satisfied?” He asked, mocking you.

“Please,” you said in a small voice.

“Hm?” He asked, urging you to speak louder.

“Please touch me—fuck me,” you begged, surprising yourself as you had never been this desperate before, your body shivering as it ached for him.

His eyes darkened, his carnal desires taking over, “I hope you’re ready to be fucked all night, darling,” he said, voice deep and promising.

That’s all he said before capturing your lips into a deep kiss, pulling you closer by your neck, your knees weaker than ever as he bit your lower lip, making you go feral with just one action.

Oh you so knew it was going to be a long (and adventurous) night.

THANK YOU FOR READING!

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[hp-hcs]

Could I request some Yan poly Theo and Mattheo x male reader please?

Where he is an animagus that can turn into a cat just like McGonagal.

Where he goes to them in his cat form for cuddles and scratches and stuff because he’s touch starved, but what the reader doesn’t know is that they know who he is and that he’s not a normal cat, and the reason everyone’s been avoiding him both in his cat form and human form is because they’ve made everyone besides him know that he’s theirs and threaten them. Just the usual possessive Yan behaviour from the duo. Maybe they buy him a collar or something in his cat form and he gets all embarrassed because he doesn’t know that they know he’s a human and just has to wear it when he’s a cat-??

I’m so sorry if it’s too detailed

um, obsessed???

also i tweaked the ending you asked for just a little bit cause i never know how to end fics 🫠

i genuinely despise this. fully anticipate me just deleting this and starting over.

also please never apologize for too much detail it literally makes writing these so much easier and faster

requests? 🥺🤲

“He is, most of all, l'amor che move il sole e l'altre stelle.” — Yandere! Theodore Nott x Animagus! Sirius’ son! Reader x Yandere! Mattheo Riddle

warnings: very mild—mostly implied—yandere possessive/violent stuff

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Ah, Mr. Black. Lovely for you to join us.”

You cringed, hastily smoothing down your hair in an attempt to look like you hadn’t just woken up.

Snape gave you a stern look. “Very well. Now that you’ve elected to make your presence, perhaps Mr. Black can tell us what asphodel is?”

You flushed at the way your professor put you on the spot; the way all of your classmate's eyes were on you.

“U-uh, it’s a flower. It’s supposed to grow in the Elysian fields in the Greek underworld…?” You trailed off uncertainly.

Snape’s lips thinned, a sign that you were correct. “We have a new seating chart—a fact you might’ve known if you’d shown up on time. Over there. Quickly.”

You scurried over to the table he indicated, sitting down in the empty chair between two Slytherin boys.

The boy on your right gave you a sympathetic look, waiting until Snape turned to continue writing on the board before leaning over and whispering to you.

“We’re doing a project in pairs, but me an’ my friend Theo here said we’d add you in ours to make a group of three. Snape wanted you to work with Longbottom.”

The boy on your left—Theo, you presumed—leaned in to whisper, “Yeah, we wouldn’t wish that upon anyone. ‘specially not a pretty thing like you.”

You blushed at the flattering name, whispering back, “Longbottom? Merlin- thank you.”

He grinned brightly, seemingly pleased at your willingness to hold a conversation with him, if the gentle flush of his cheeks was any indication.

The boy on your right tugged at your sleeve with a charming smile. “That’s Theodore Nott, by the way. And I’m Mattheo Riddle, darlin’.”

~~~

“Well, I think we’re just about finished,” Theodore mused, sitting up from where he’d been leaning over your group’s poster board. “Think we used enough glitter?”

“No such thing as enough glitter.”

You laughed at the two boys’ antics as the three of you sat on the floor of their dorm room. They had a good rapport with each other, one that you fit easily into. There was no real awkwardness as you all joked with each other. You actually felt like you belonged, like you’d been a part of their pair for years.

It was a nice thought.

“Well, if we’re finished, then I desperately need to go to the library,” you sighed. “Flitwick assigned twenty inches on the difference between the Conservo and the Protego charms.”

The two groaned in sympathy.

“Good luck,” Mattheo shook his head, resting his hand on your knee.

You’d noticed that both boys were extremely touchy. They always seemed to be accidentally brushing hands with you, peering over your shoulder to look at the poster, and finding any excuse to rest their hands somewhere on your body.

You nodded your thanks, putting away your personal reading book, your glitter quills, and your googly eye stickers that you as a group had had far too much fun with.

“See you guys around!”

~~~

“Woah- Here, kitty kitty kitty!”

You blinked sleepily, annoyed at whomever was disrupting your nap by the warm common room fireplace.

Two blurry, vaguely boy-shaped blobs plopped down on the floor by you, one of the blobs’ bags spilling out its contents all over the floor. You swatted lazily at a feather quill that rolled to a stop beside you on the rug, quickly losing interest and yawning.

“Whose cat is this?” The shorter one—the one whose bag had dumped parchment and jellybeans all over the floor—asked, suddenly scratching the top of your head.

You froze, an unfamiliar rumble rising from your throat at the odd sensation.

You were purring.

If you were human right now, you were sure your skin would be prickling from the stranger’s gentle touch.

Gentle touch had always been uncommon for you. Your family was odd and disjointed. You grew up without a father, raised only by grumpy paintings and a sour house elf.

And once he returned, on a the back of a winged marvel, with stories of rats and traitors and time, his overjoyed smile had faltered when he learned you wore green and not red. His now ever-present pinched look of poorly hidden disappointment whenever he looked at you, paired with your god-cousin’s short and stiff hugs and forced smiles, you felt like an outsider in your own home.

“Virgil!”

The strangers startled you out of your reverie. Your ears flattened back, but the taller one just pet your head softly. The short one crossed its arms, shaking its head vehemently.

“No, dude. Why the fuck would you name our cat that?”

“Cause of the book? Dante’s Inferno?” The taller one pointed at one of your abandoned books lying on the rug, most of the stack on Charms subjects, except for that one. You must’ve fallen asleep while reading it, and changed into a cat at some point during your nap.

“Nerd.”

“Just because you don’t ever read, Riddle-”

You perked up at the familiar name. Blinking away sleep, the two blobs- boys come into better focus.

They’re your fucking group mates.

Fucking Circe.

Theo goes back to petting your head, his steady pets prompting you to instinctively push your head up against his palm to demand more.

“Oh- hi Vee,” he laughed, moving his hand further down to stroke along your spine.

“Wh- We’re not calling it that.”

~~~

They ended up calling you that.

They visited the library after school every day now, where sure enough, you’d always be sitting by the fire or sprawled out on the couch.

Some days, they brought extra friends. On those days, you’d always squawk and wind between your boys’ ankles to get their attention when they got too engrossed in a conversation, like an adorable, jealous tripping hazard.

And after you’d turned in your project, you had also remained friends with them as a human. You now lit up every time you saw them in the halls or the common room, and they always grinned whenever they saw you.

It was nice.

~~~ “Hel- oh.”

You watched as your History of Magic table mate, a usually kind and friendly Hufflepuff girl, scrambled out of her seat to sit elsewhere as soon as you set your bag down. You stared after her in shock.

What had you done to warrant that?

As you stared after her, you finally became aware that your classmates around you were staring at you with a mixture of curiosity and fear.

Everyone avoided the seat next to you like the plague.

You sat alone that class.

~~~

You set your textbook down on your desk, sitting down heavily in your chair.

Today had been awful. Nobody dared come near you in any of your classes, like you were a leper or something. You ate lunch alone, walked to class alone… you just hoped Potions, as your last class of the day, would pass quickly.

“Hello, lovely,” Mattheo greeted warmly, the corners of his eyes crinkling up as he sat down beside you—the first person to do so all day. “How are you this fine afternoon?”

You rolled your eyes grumpily, steadfastly ignoring him as you doodled on your parchment.

You suddenly felt fingers underneath your chin, lifting your head up until your eyes met Mattheo’s.

“He asked you a question, doll,” Theodore breathed into your ear from behind you. “Answer.”

You shivered at his tone and firm behavior, blushing despite yourself. “‘m- ‘m fine.”

“Good boy,” Mattheo sighed, patting your cheek patronizingly. “Was that really so hard?”

Your cheeks flush immediately at the name, as you remain a bit confused as to their sudden changes in personality.

Where were the lovably awkward pair of dorks that you usually hung out with, both as a human and as a cat? (Although, you supposed, they didn’t know about the latter.)

Maybe you were wrong about them?

~~~

You weren’t wrong about them.

You leaned against the side of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, watching interesting passerby on the street as you waited for your god-cousin, Harry, to return back outside.

You were so focused on people-watching, imagining backstories for everyone, (especially the creepy Gryffindor who liked to hit on you no matter how many times you said no: Cormac McLaggen. The boy had practically sprinted away as soon as he caught sight of you leaning against the wall. Odd that he also had a black eye and a busted nose) that you were completely startled by arms wrapping around you from behind.

You jumped, but relaxed a bit when they put their chin on your shoulder and whispered into your ear, “It’s Mattheo, doll. Calm down.”

“You just scared the shit outta me. Tellin’ me to calm down,” you roll your eyes. “What do you want?”

“Go out with me.”

“What?”

“M-me. And Theo. Both. Yeah?”

“Wow. Smooth, dude. Real master of words, aren’t you?” A new voice chimed in sarcastically.

You spun around at the arrival of a second person, relaxing when you saw that it was just Theo.

“What Matty is trying to ask is, will you go out with us?”

You gape at them.

“Both of you?”

“Ideally, yes.”

You blink at them, eyes wide.

Mattheo shifts nervously.

“Sure.”

Theodore blinks, like he wasn’t expecting that answer. “Sure? Like- like yes you will?”

“Yeah.”

The two boys exchange a rather disbelieving, giddy look.

“Uh, how does the Three Broomsticks at seven tonight sound?”

“Works for me,” you shrug, a pleased smile slowly creeping onto your face.

“Oh! Here. We- we got this for you. In case you said yes,” Mattheo digs through his pockets, pulling out a small, rectangular box, like the kind that watches come in. “But, you have to promise you’ll wait to get back to your dorm room before you open it.”

You laugh, shrugging. “Okay, sure. I promise.”

Theo narrows his eyes at you before sticking out his pinky finger. “Pinky promise?”

You laugh again at the way his serious look contrasts with his childish request, obliging and wrapping your pinky around his. “Pinky promise.”

~~~

You shut your dorm door behind you, dropping your bag on the floor and collapsing onto your bed. You, true to your word, waited to open the box, pulling it out of your pocket only just now.

It was small, simple gift box, with a scrap of folded parchment taped to the top.

Y/N –

Thought you might like this. We’d love to see you wear it on our date.

– MR & TN

You raise your eyebrows, setting the note aside and lifting the lid, unsure of what to expect.

You were not expecting there to be a blue cat collar inside, the dangling metal tag reading:

Virgil

If lost, return to either

Theo Nott or Mattheo Riddle

[kpop---scenarios]

Words Unspoken (1)

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader

Warning: A little angst, some hurt, more in other chapters

Summary: You and Lee Know used to be best friends, but after an issue, you weren't. 6 years later, he's back in your life and you hate it.

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: big thank you to @pali-writes-atiny-bit for all your help with this one!!

Everything Taglist: @wife2straykidss @piscesrising01 @baby-stay92 @kisses-too-the-moon

@dwaekkiiracha @silly250 @rylea08 @imperfectlyperfectprincess1

@satosugu4l @gabriellamarie @tsunderelino @iovecb97

@1810cl @lordmaahes-nsc @sailorkoss @minh0scat @pixie0627

@50-husbands @jinnies-muse @yaorzu-blog @anskiiz @joyofbebbanburg

@number1jeonginstan @skzooluvr @jisunglyricist @ambersnowxxx

@ayyonoona @31maze13 @stay-tiny-things @thegingerthatwaited @hoesheez

“Abso-fucking-lutely not.” You deadpan, your eyes twitch, as you glare at your editor. She sighs as she adjusts her stance, poking her hip out a little, crossing her arms. 

“Are you really going to argue with me over what you're assigned too?” She asks. “You write about celebrities, he's a celebrity. What's the issue?” 

“Yes, I do write about celebrities, but this particular one I will not write about. I just can't. I guarantee he will even talk to me. He hates me!” You explain. She looks at you with that unimpressed look.  “And I'm also just not a fan of his music.” You yell, throwing your hands up in the air. You can't even find the right words to express to her how much you didn't want to see him and have to write this article. Although you shouldn't be panicking, he would never talk to you. Hell, it had been 6 years since you'd last seen or talked to him.

“Well, I'm sorry Y/N but you not being a fan isn't a good enough reason for you to not do this interview. He's the hottest artist right now and I want that exclusive.” She says, glancing at her watch. “You better hurry. You've only got an hour to make it to the Cafe.” She grins, walking back into her office, sliding the door closed. 

You fake cry and whimper as you throw your head back, stomping your foot like a child. God dammit. 

“Y/N.. this might be a good thing. You can maybe clear the air?” Han asks, popping his head out from behind his cubicle. 

“There's nothing to clear, Han. He did what he did and I did what I did and that's that.” You sigh, gathering your belongings. 

“YN. It's been 6 years. Don't you think it's time?” He asks. 

“Do you still talk to him?” You ask. 

Han’s eyes darted around the room, avoiding your question. 

You roll your eyes. The betrayal you felt. “Ouch.” You whimper, placing your hand over your heart. “That stings, Jisung. I thought I got custody of you in the end.” You say, walking to the front door. you can hear him behind you scrambling to stand up. 

“Jisung!?” He yells. “You only call me Jisung when you're mad at me! Are you? Are you mad at me? Y/N!” He yells even louder as you walk out the door. 

45 minutes later you're sitting at a table, your legs crossed, your foot shaking as you wait for Lee Know. Your fingers tap the cup of coffee that you hadn’t even taken a sip of. 

“Oh fuck no.” You hear. You look up and see a very unimpressed Lee Know. 

“I feel the same.” You say, crinkling your nose and rolling your eyes at him. “Believe me, I tried to get out of this.” 

“Clearly you didn't try hard enough. You know what? I'll make this easier on both of us, I'm not doing this interview unless it's with someone else.” He deadpans. 

“I'll call my editor.” 

You pull out your phone dialing her number before putting the phone on speaker, placing it on the table in front of you. 

“I swear to god Y/N..if this is you complaining about him..” she starts. 

“Mrs. Shin, you're on speaker phone and he can hear you.” You start. She stops talking. “He's refusing to do the interview with me.” 

“I don't believe that. You're wonderful and a great journalist. Stop making things up.” She scoffs. 

“She's not making it up. I will not do it with her. You have to send someone else.” He interrupts. 

“What the hell have you done to each other to hate each other so much?” she sighs. 

Your mind travels back to the past. 10th grade and you had gotten your first boyfriend. Park Chanyeol. He was everything you had ever dreamed of in a man. Tall, handsome, funny, sweet, not to mention he was one of the most popular guys in your school, and he had asked you out. 

Even though you were fairly popular, a lot of people knew you but you didn't feel like it. You felt like a fraud even when you were being your authentic self. It was almost as if your life was a movie and you were playing the role of someone else. You shook all that off once you got with Chanyeol. He seemed to bring out the best in you and all your friends were so happy for you. 

Until they weren't and he started bringing out the worst in you. 

“Okay, Y/N. It’s time for the truth, honestly. What the fuck is going on with you?” Chan asks. You sit on the couch in the basement of his parents house, surrounded by your closest friends. 

“What are you talking about?” You ask, trying to force yourself to laugh. You hoped it sounded real but you knew it didn't. 

“You look terrified all the time, the circles under your eyes are awful, You're jumping at every turn.” Seungmin sighs. 

“Not to mention you look like you're about to burst into tears constantly.” Jisung pouts. 

You knew they cared about you and you knew that you should tell them. But you didn't know if you could. Things with Chanyeol were good, when they were good. But as of late, things had mostly been bad. It seemed like you couldn't do anything right for him and he'd stand there and scream at you for hours, telling you how shitty of a person you were, how ugly you were and how much of a slut you were apparently. And the saddest part of it was his parents would see you on your knees, crying and pleading for him to stop and they would walk away and pretend not to see anything. If you walked around with bruises on your arms around them, they ignored it. They enabled him because they were scared of him. You knew that now but not back then. Back then you thought that it was love and you thought that you deserved it. So you put up with it, everyday, only trying to be better for Chanyeol. You just wanted his approval and love. Sometimes he would give it to you, and he would be the boy you fell in love with but once he got into one of his moods, or accused you of something that was the end of it. He was back to ignoring you, belittling you, doing everything he wasn't supposed to do. 

Until one day it stopped. 

Chanyeol wouldn't look at you, he wouldn't talk to you. He stopped returning your phone calls, he stopped replying to your texts. It was like he ghosted you but you still saw him at school. He acted like your relationship Never even happened, like you were nothing to him. So you made a plan to confront him. You watched him walk into the bathroom and you followed him. There was nothing he could do now. He couldn't run away from you. 

“Why are you ignoring me?” You ask, arms crossed. Chanyeol jumps, turning around to face you. 

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” He snaps. 

“What did I do now? Why aren't you talking to me?” You ask. 

“Because I'm done with you. It's over. Leave me the fuck alone.” He says. 

You didn't like that answer. And you could tell that he didn't care. “I don't want it to be over.” You whisper. “I love you.” 

“I don't give a fuck what you want. Fuck off.” He snaps, moving past you and out of the bathroom. Leaving you trembling, trying desperately not to cry. 

Why weren't you good enough for him?

You walk out of the bathroom, seeing Minho talking to Chanyeol at the lockers. You had come out only to hear the last of Minho's sentence. 

“She's pathetic, right?” Minho asks. 

You stare at him. “What?” You ask. 

Minho turns to look at you. “That's not…” he pauses. 

“That's what you think of me?” You ask, sniffling. “Nice.” You murmur, turning to walk away. He doesn't try to stop you. He doesn't care. He thinks you're pathetic? Then fuck him. But you couldn't let him get away with it. Not now. You turned back around, storming up to him. 

“You think I'm pathetic? I've done nothing but support you and your dreams! I can't believe you think so lowly of me after everything I've done for you. You're a real piece of shit, and an even worse friend. At this rate you're no better than Chanyeol. Don't ever talk to me again!” You scream, tears streaming down your face. Your heart was shattered. Chanyeol, yeah that hurt but Minho? Who was supposed to be one of your closest friends? That fucking shattered you. And from that day, you and Minho did not talk. You wanted nothing to do with him and you had nothing to do with him and assumed he wanted the same. You avoided him at all costs, and eventually lost touch with a few of the other guys. The one two you remained close with was Jisung, who you worked with and Felix, who lived with you and Jisung. The rest of them, you  had no idea what their lives had turned out like. And that made you sad. 

** 

“It doesn't matter, it was years ago. He doesn't want to do the interview with me. So can you send someone else?” You ask. 

“Can he stick around for an hour to wait for someone?” Mrs. Shin asks. 

“I'm a busy man. No I can't.” Minho answers. 

“Y/N, we need this interview.” Mrs. Shin tries to whisper. But Minho hears and rolls his eyes. 

“I'll come to your office tomorrow. But I want a different journalist.” Minho says. 

“Yes, Okay you got it. Thank you, Minho.” She says, way happier than when she talks to you. 

“Yeah.” He grumbles, turning around to walk away. 

You scoff. “Still an asshole, I see.” You say to yourself as you pack up your belongings. You grumble to yourself as you walk towards the train station, to make the 45 minute journey back to your office. 

When you do return, Han stands there with a coffee in his hand and a smile on his face. “For you, my most favorite Y/N in the world.” He smiles, handing the coffee to you. 

“I'm the only Y/N you know.” You say, giving him the side eye. 

“How was it with Minho?” Han asks. 

“How do you think it went?” You ask. “He refused to do the interview with me.” You say. 

“Seriously?” Han says. “What even happened between the two of you?” He asks. “Neither of you will say much about it.” 

“And I still won’t. Sorry, Han. It's in the past and I'm not trying to relive it.” You say.  “He's coming to the office tomorrow to do the interview with someone. Whoever that is, I have no idea but good luck to them.” You say, taking a sip of your coffee before sitting back at your desk, trying to focus on your work. But unfortunately you could only think about the past. Sometimes you miss him. You missed his friendship, his hugs, his warmth, but you were still hurt by what he said and the way he didn't give a fuck about it. You tried to not either but that was easier said than done. 

“You okay?” Han asks, bringing you out of your thoughts. 

“Huh? Oh, yeah I'm good.” You say, picking up your phone, reading a text. “Felix wants to meet for drinks.” You say, looking up at Han. 

“I could drink.” He says, walking back to his desk. You send a quick message to Felix letting him know you guys would meet him there before you began packing up your things. This was just what you needed to forget this shitty day. 

A few minutes later, you and Han are walking out of the office, heading towards the train to head over to the bar. 

“How was your day?” Felix asks, taking a sip of his beer. 

“You'll never guess who I was face to face with today.” You say, sipping your cocktail. 

“Mr. Lee Minho.” Felix smiles. 

“How'd you know?” You ask, a little shocked. 

“He texted me.” Felix says, shrugging his shoulders. 

“What? What did he say?” You ask. 

“He just said that you were the one who was supposed to interview him.” Felix says. 

“What else?” 

“That he refused to do it with you.” 

“Yes he did. I didn't even want to do it in the first place but I was forced to.” You groan, dropping your head into your hands. “Why did it have to be him?” 

“Do you know how many people are trying to get literally anything from him? You guys are lucky he's even coming down to your office to do it. He turned every other company down.” Felix explains. 

“Then why this company? Why would he choose the one Han and I work at?” You ask. 

“Han. You wanna take this one?” Felix asks, looking over at the quiet man. 

“I um… might have asked him…as a favor.” Han smiles. 

“Jisung.” You murmur. 

“Not the Jisung again! I was just trying to help! This interview could really boost our credibility!” He says. “We needed something big.” He says. 

“I mean I can't blame you for that. It just sucks. But now no more talking about him. Felix, how was your day?” You ask, trying to change the subject, and thankfully it worked. But only for a little bit, as you continued to drink, your inhibitions were lowered, leaving you feeling slightly vulnerable. What sober you didn't want to talk about, drunk you was ready to spill some of the tea. 

“You think I'm pathetic?” You scoff. “You're fucking pathetic.” You sigh loudly. “Does he still think that?” 

“What are you talking about, Y/N?” Felix asks, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. 

“What does it matter?” You slur. “It's been 6 years… who cares anymore. Not me!” You mumble. 

“Y/N, are you talking about Minho?” Han asks, glancing over at Felix who was wondering the same thing. 

“Who wants to talk about Minho?” You ask. “Not me.” You pout. “I just… I just wanna know why.” You whimper. “Did he always think that? Why was our friendship so fucking easy to give up on?” You sniffle. You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes and you didn't want to cry. 

“I've been fine for 6 goddamn years. I'm not going to start this now. Let's drink!” You yell. 

“Maybe we should call it a night?” Han asks. 

“I think that's a good idea.” Felix laughs, placing some cash on the table. 

“You're a good idea.” You murmur as Han helps you up, wrapping his arm around you to help you walk. “I'm sleepy.” You yawn, making Han and Felix laugh. 

You slept well that night, and remembered nothing in the morning time. 

** 

“Y/N, good morning.” Mrs. Shin smiles at you. You hold your head, sunglasses covering your bloodshot eyes. You felt like a bag of shit and you just wanted to go home and go back to bed but you unfortunately were an adult who needed to do adult things. 

“Morning.” You croak. She looks at you concerned but you just wave her off. You're not in the mood to talk about it right now. You sit down at your desk, putting your head down on the desk, groaning, loudly. 

“Y/N… I need you to sit in on an interview today.” Mrs. Shin says, leaning against your desk. 

“But why?” You groan. 

“It's one of the newbies. That's the only person I had available for this interview.” She says. 

“I could have done it.” You say, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

“No you couldn't have.” She says. “It's Lee Minho. And he's going to be here in 10 minutes.” She says. 

“What makes you think he's gonna say shit when I'm in the room?” You ask. 

“Technically you're not doing the interview.” She smiles. “So it shouldn't be a problem for you to just supervise, right?” 

“Oh my god.” You groan. This was it. This was your fucking nightmare and you had absolutely no way out of it.

[smilesatdawnmain]

Have you ever thought of how The Day The World Eclipsed would be, if you made it with Xiotain and MK. Cause like I could see Wukong being ran ragged by two little toddlers. But then I can also imagine how adorable it would be when Macaque met the twins, the original meet scene was adorable, but like it would be even more adorable! Just a thought I had!

WELL DANG IT!!

-----

Macaque's voice was hoarse as he whispered, "Here? You mean... now?" He had anxiously awaited the chance to meet his child, but he hadn't expected it to happen so quickly!

Wukong acknowledged with a nod, his gaze shifting towards the direction his clone was approaching from. Macaque tensed, his eyes tracking the route into the distance. Though there was no one in sight yet, he could clearly hear their approach.

The sound of the nimbus cloud cutting through the air filled his ears along with the chatter of Wukong's clones, who were busy answering trivial questions. And then he heard something else- the faint beating of two tiny hearts.

He inhaled sharply, startled when chirps filled his ears, consuming his waking breath with their high pitched tone and sweet resonance. 

“Two…?” he whispered. He touched his ears, confused and spooked. “I-I hear two??” he looked to Wukong for answers, “Why do I hear two?!”

His ex-partner gave him a puzzled sideways glance, then his lips formed a sheepish smile. "I-I'm sorry Mihou," he stammered, realizing his mistake. In the midst of his excitement and nervousness, he had forgotten to mention a crucial detail about their son's birth. Or should he say, sons? "You thought you heard one heartbeat, but there were actually two," Wukong muttered, his eyes focused on the approaching sounds. "We have twins, Mihou. Beautiful little twins."

"Twins?" Macaque echoed. He took a step back, blinking rapidly as if it would clear the confusion. He had been bracing himself for fatherhood, had been preparing himself for one child, one baby monkey. But two? There was a flutter in his chest that he couldn't describe, an odd mixture of terror and joy. It was too soon. Everything was too sudden. Twins? How could he handle twins?

Just before he could express his worries, Wukong's clone glided into view on a nimbus cloud, swooping around the tree line before landing. The clone dismounted and Macaque quickly slipped behind Wukong's back, hoping to avoid being seen by the curious cubs who were about to appear. Wukong in turn tensed, eyes wide and tail holding perfectly still. He scratched his cheek awkwardly, trying not to smile when he felt Macaque’s hands holding onto his back to steady himself.

“Deep Breathes,” he instructed.

Macaque panted, struggling.

The clone was soon joined by the rest of his fellow clones, each of them grinning with the joy of introducing the two newest members of their family to Macaque. They stood aside to allow Wukong's original body to step forward, making room for him to approach the eagerly chirping young ones, who seemed engulfed in their own little conversation. The toddlers each with their own little backpack, filled with things for their day.

Xiaohua was attempting to descend from the cloud, his pudgy leg reaching out in search of solid ground but coming up short. He chirped a call for his Daddy to help him, all while MK watched curiously. One of the clones stepped closer, scooping Xiaohua up from his arm pits to instead settle him back on the cloud.

“Wait a moment, Bud,” the clone mused. Xiaohua pouted, wanting to explore.

Macaque's heart raced, finding it was hard to breathe. His mind spun with questions, his pulse thrumming in time with the joyful chirps. As Wukong grinned and walked forward, Macaque swallowed hard, his palms sweating against each other as he clutched his ex-partner’s back tighter, half hiding behind him.

"Wukong," Macaque stammered, unable to look at his ex-lover as he tried to calm his erratic heartbeat. "I... I can't, I..."

"Shh, it's okay," Wukong cut in gently, reaching back to squeeze Macaque's hand reassuringly. "You don't need to do anything. Just meet them." there was a small twinkle in his eyes, “They are excited to meet you.”

Macaque sharply lifted his head, “They are…?”

"Of course," Wukong replied warmly. "They've heard so much about their Baba, they can't wait to meet you." He extended his arm out for Macaque to come out.

Macaque hesitated for a moment longer before slowly stepping out from Wukong's back.

His heart thumped against his ribcage as he stood in front of the two tiny monkeys. Their eyes were brimming with innocence and wonder, their features an endearing blend of their parents' traits.

“Oh…” Macaque whimpered, these two everything he thought they would be and more. Macaque touched his chest in awe, happy to just- just stare. They were so small and perfect. One had chocolate brown fur, his eyes as golden as Wukong’s with six little ears on his head like him. On his face was a little heart with a spot of freckles upon his chubby cheeks. The second, had fur almost pure white, like when he himself was little, before it turned black. He had Macaque’s color face marking, that shaped similar to a butterfly. Macaque’s eye brows, Macaque’s eyes… But both had Wukong’s grin.

He made a sound similar to a whimper.

"Dada!" The little one with golden eyes, MK, chimed, breaking the silence. He had noticed his Father and stood, pausing when he saw Macaque. His eyes doubled in size to the stranger and yet- he knew who this was. His Dada had been telling him all week. This was his Baba.

His Baba he was finally getting to meet.

Wukong grinned as he waited for Macaque to speak and introduce himself. Instead, all Macaque did was gape, speechless under the magnitude of the moment.The toddlers were oblivious to how their appearance had turned their Father into a stammering mess, just curious of this new adult.

“Xiaoxiao-” ML reached out for his Brother’s hand, who was still preoccupied by the new land around them, distracted. “Xiaoxiao,” silencing the chippering scamp to also turn his head, MK pointed to their Baba. “Look,” As soon as Xiaohua saw Macaque he ducked his head a little behind his brother, clearly shy.

“Macaque, this is Xiaotian and Xiaohua.” Wukong gestured to them both. “Boys… Meet your Baba.” Wukong added softly, reaching over to gently squeeze Macaque's shoulder. "This is your Father."

The little one with white fur, Xiaohua, peeked up from behind his brother, his eyes wide with a mixture of curiosity and shyness. He'd heard stories about his Baba, tales of bravery and strength and kindness. And now here he was, standing right in front of him, as pretty as the moon.

Macaque sucked in a sharp breath as he looked at them, his heart aching with an overwhelming surge of love. He was entranced by their curious gazes and the familiarity of their features - the softness of their cheeks and eyes. They were perfect. Everything he dreamed they would be. Oh gods-… he was gonna cry.

"Wukong," Macaque managed to choke out, his voice blubbering, "They're... they're beautiful." He reached out a shaky hand, as if to touch them, but quickly retracting it as if he thought he might burn them if he did.

Seeing his struggles, Wukong shifted with his hand to lower the nimbus cloud to the ground, slowly guiding Macaque in the same direction, “Let’s all sit down,” he says gently. Macaque didn’t try to argue, letting himself be lowered to his trembling knees.

The world felt surreal as Macaque settled on the soft grass, the ground cradling him in a way that felt both grounding and weightless at the same time. As he sat there, surrounded by the warmth of Wukong’s presence and the innocent awe radiating from his children, he finally exhaled—a long, shaky breath that released a cascade of emotions he hadn’t known he was holding.

This was real.

This was happening.

He was a Baba.

"Come here, loves," Wukong encouraged softly, motioning for Xiaotian and Xiaohua to join them. The boys looked at each other, sharing a glance. As they debated listening to their Dada, Macaque’s ears flattened, a strange heat on his face.

Wukong’s soft and sweet call to the kids had been… adorably sweet, and it had startled him. They were his loves…

He cursed himself for finding his sweetness to them endearing.

“Coming, Dada,” MK was rolling off the cloud first, a bit braver to strangers then his Brother. He wobbled forward, sniffing the hair with a velvety nose. Xiaohua quickly followed suit, his small face peering up at Macaque from behind MK. As soon as they got close enough to his Dada, realizing MK wasn’t going to stop-, he rushed from behind Xiaotian to Wukong, hiding behind his back just as Macaque had a little bit ago. “Daddy,” he whispered.

Wukong smiles, rubbing Xiaohua’s back assuringly, “Yes?”

The child’s fingers clung tightly to Wukong’s shirt, his eyes never leaving Macaque’s face. “He’s got six ears, Daddy,” he pointed to them.

MK was bouncing, grasping his ears, “Like me!!”

Xiaohua nodded, “Like MK…”

“MK?” Macaque asked, looking at Wukong. Wukong blinked a few times then laughed sheepishly again.

“Like um.. M-Monkey Kid?” he says.

Macaque’s jaw fell open, stunned, yet also not surprised at all that Wukong would name on of their sons after him… AND ADORABLY SO! He clicked his teeth in a clear annoyance, but paused when MK patted his chest.

“Monkey Kid!” he declared, a savior to his Father, who exhaled in relief. “And Xiaoxiao is- uh… Xiaoxiao.”

“I’m Xiaoxiao,” the other toddler nodded, stepping out a bit more, “I-I like- I like Mangos.”

Macaque stared at him, a soft smile spreading across his face. What an innocent thing to say. “Mangos, hm?”

“I like peaches!” MK waved his hands around, getting close enough to stand before his Baba. Without hesitation he was scampering into Macaque’s lap, eager to touch is clothes, his scarf, and the fur of his arms. Macaque held perfectly still, letting the child do as he wished. His lips were squiggly, trying to hold back any tears.

The child smelled like sweetbread and milk, so sweet and eyes so round. He was talking more and more, Macaque bobbing his head and listening intently.

“I like to color, and paint- but I gotta be careful cause-cause I make messes. I help clean messes.” he babbled a few things, most slurred and unable to be fully understood in his toddler talk.

“I-I see,” Macaque nodded, his voice strangled but his smile sweet.

Xiaohua peeked out from behind Wukong, his shyness still evident in the way he tucked his chin. Still, it looked like so much fun over there-, “Daddy, can I… can I sit with Baba too?” His voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

“Of course you can,” Wukong replied, his tone gentle and encouraging. He bent down slightly, offering a reassuring smile that seemed to fill the air with warmth. “Go on, It’s okay.”

Macaque turned his head quickly to the approaching toddler, eyes wide. He swallowed thickly, slowly opening his arm a little in hopes to entice the boy closer.

With hesitant steps, Xiaohua made his way forward, glancing back at Wukong for reassurance before flopping into Macaque's lap beside MK. MK didn’t stop talking the entire time, his tail wagging and slapping at Macaque’s arm with little control.

“And I like juice and toys and- Hi Xiaoxiao- and blankies and—and Dada’s stories!” MK beamed, his enthusiasm spilling over like a bubbling pot.

Xiaohua nestled closer to Macaque, drawn in by the warmth radiating from his Baba. A shy smile broke through his timid demeanor as he clutched the edges of Macaque's scarf, feeling its silky softness between his fingers.

Macaque’s heart swelled with an unfamiliar joy, and it was all he could do not to break into a grin. He felt like a giant in their little world, these tiny beings weaving themselves into his life with laughter and innocence. “Stories, hmm?” he repeated softly, looking between the two boys.

“I like stories,” Xiaohua whispered.

“Do you?” Macaque’s voice was a melody, soothing and rich as he leaned closer to the boys. “What kind of stories do you like?” He closed one of his eyes when MK suddenly touched his cheek, startled when his pudgy hand curiously explored the expanse of his Baba’s face.

“Adventures!” MK shouted excitedly, his eyes sparkling, “Like when Dada fights bad guys and saves everyone!”

“Adventures,” Xiaohua nodded. He reached his little hand up to copy his brother, hesitating. Instead he touched Macaque’s chin lightly, curling his fingers through the fur there.

Macaque turned into his hand a little, eyes fluttering for a moment. Xiaohua smelled like wild mountain flowers…

The two of them together had to be the sweetest smell he had ever encountered.

MK gently patted Macaque’s velvety muzzle. He watched the older monky wiggle his nose in response, and felt his own nose crinkle in anticipation. MK examined Macaque's facial marking next. It was a deeper shade of red than his own, with intricate little hills that forked off from the center in a unique pattern. The color was like Xiaoxiao’s.

Then, there was his fur.

MK’s fingertips ran across the small white patch of fur near Macaque’s right eye. Perhaps age, perhaps stress- perhaps the effects of the Witch's magic; Macaque wasn't sure.

At the touch of it, Mihou flinched, holding his breath as his Child investigated, tilting his head curiously at the altering color of fur. Delving into the blacker tufts, he rubbed the strands between his fingers.

"Its..." he trailed off. Macaque's lower lip trembled, not sure how to explain that his fur just wasn't that soft. MK's eyes lifted, a sparkle to them. "XiaoXiao,” he gasped, as if realizing something and wanting to share with his Brother.

“It’s like blankie,"Xiaoxiao had already caught on, curiously touching Macaque’s fur.

Macaque openly stared. Huh??

MK and Xiaohua tugged themselves closer, tails swaying behind them as they examined their Baba for the first time. Little fingers exploring, searching, mapping out Macaque’s face to memory as they had done with their Dada so many times before. 

“They have a blanket,” Wukong spoke, since the children were too distracted to answer, “It’s their favorite thing. I’ve used it since they were babies,” when Macaque looked at him with an emotional look, his voice grew softer, “You remind them of their favorite thing.”

Macaque blinked, the weight of Wukong's words settling over him like a gentle fog. He felt a rush of warmth bloom in his chest, an unfamiliar tightening that tugged at something deep within. "Like their favorite thing," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. The thought echoed in his mind as he continued to feel the boys' tiny hands traversing the terrain of his fur, discovering every ridge and curve. MK didn’t hesitate to bury his face against Macaque’s shoulder to nuzzle him, startling the older man.

He dare not move, shifted, or lift his arms, less he scare the children- but that didn’t seem to stop them from doing whatever they wished with his own form.

“Baba,” MK tells him, watching Macaque’s eyes tremble at the use of the name, “You smell like chocolate.”

Xiaohua gasped, standing on his Baba’s lap to press his face to his neck. “Chocolate?” he gasped, making Wukong snicker, knowing how much his second son loved the treat, “Chocolate!!” he squealed.

Macaque blinked a few times, trying to sniff his own fur. When Wukong only nodded knowingly, he figured it had to be true.

Macaque stared at his son, mouth agape. His brow furrowed as he opened and closed his mouth in slow motion, unable to find the right words.

MK scampered up Macaque's arm and onto his shoulder, chittering excitedly with an unmistakable tone of acceptance, adoration, and delight. Xiaohua was bouncing, giggling as his shyness fell, touching Macaque’s ears next. He rubbed them, always touching MK’s ears too since they were soft. Macaque felt awash with elation as MK and Xiaohua squeaked in admiration.

He understood nothing that was happening, but his children seemed happy with him. His children... liked him.

Macaque's voice sputtered out like a radio station losing its signal. "MM-hmm," he managed to utter, but his ears betrayed him as they twitched in different directions. His vision blurred...

He quietly cursed.

Macaque’s face crumpled, tears streaming down his cheeks and dripping onto his scarf. His body trembled as the silent sobs wracked him.

Wukong’s broad smile faded as he watched those heartbreaking tears. His heart yearned to reach out and brush away the tears that had started to roll down Mihou's cheeks, but he stayed rooted in his spot, feeling helpless. He wanted to offer Mihou comfort, yet his presence seemed like the last thing Mihou desired. 

“Oo…” Xiaohua felt a droplet fall onto his nose and looked up to see the monkey's eyes closed, face wet and quivering. His chest heaved with emotion as his children reached up and tenderly patted his stained cheek. “Baba sad?” Xiaohua asked. He got a little closer, hugging the man and pressing his head to his chest. MK hugged Macaque’s head, patting it.

“Shh..shh..” He leaned up and gently pressed his lips to Macaque's chin, just like his Dada had done when he was feeling down.

Macaque's shoulders sagged, and a whimper escaped his lips. He tugged the boys further into his arms, his hands trembling.

His sons. His babies.

He was never letting them go again.

----

HOW DARE YOU PUT THIS IN MY BRAINNNNN!

[noahsmuse]

second chance?

✮ PAIRING: noah sebastian x reader

✮ REQUEST: “Can I request a second chance romance one shot? Like in 2020 - 2021 the reader and Noah were dating and they break up for [insert reason] but they run into each other at the BMTH concert in 2024 or something and one thing leads to another suddenly they you know, hooked up and Noah doesn't want it to be a one night stand with her soooooo you can go from there.”

✮ A/N: sorry for the recent inactivity but now, i’m BACKKKK! continue sending in requests for me to write & hope you all like this fic ≧'◡'≦

everything seemed picture perfect between you two. the makeshift dates and the candle-lit dinners that would be hosted in his dining room with dinner that you both made, and just when you thought that the pair of you were full from dinner he was usually still hungry….but for something else (you). in a world of what seemed to be chaos, you found solace within each other.

until, the time came that heavy pandemic restrictions were slowly being lifted and Bad Omens was scheduled their first tour back to be openers for In This Moment and Ice Nine Kills. going from seeing noah almost every single day to barely hearing from him was a very intense switch that put a strain on your relationship since communication was such a huge trait for the two of you.

knowing this would probably only get worse as they’re gonna get busier and continue going on tour. even though you two loved each other to the ends of the earth, when he came back you both made the decision to break up but still remain friends to avoid any heartbreak or miscommunication.

this brings us back to present day, it’s been three years since you’ve broken up with noah. you both talk occasionally and send the usual happy holidays and birthday messages but haven’t actually seen each other face to face since the break up.

one day you hear your phone going off like CRAZY, you managed to find out that one of your girlfriends was able to get pit tickets for a Bring Me The Horizon concert happening in your city. prior to these messages from your friends, you had zero idea they were coming to your town and who would be with them, but decided why not go and have some fun!!!

the day that you and your friends have been so estatic about finally comes around, you’re all dressed to the nines, wearing your sexiest but comfortable attire that perfectly matches the mood for the concert. since the adrenaline is pumping throughout your friend groups veins, all of you decide to make it to the venue just early enough to secure the merch that you’ve had your eye on and your spots for barricade.

after waiting for a few hours, the doors of the venue open and everyone runs while holding each others hands to make it right in the center of barricade with a perfect view of the stage.

around an hour goes by, you still have no idea who the openers will be until the crew of the band lowers down a tapestry with a name that sounds very familiar to you….’Bad Omens’, and that’s when it clicks in your head that your ex boyfriend’s band is an opener for the tour. obviously you don’t wanna seem like an obsessive person to him but you’re literally sitting front row, right in the center, so there’s definitely no way that you could hide.

as soon as you start trying to think up of a plan to make sure noah doesn’t see you in the crowd, the lights abruptly go dark and small vibrations rumble through the ground of the arena with jolly, one of noah’s best friends and roommates comes out right in front of you playing the riffs of a song that you learn is called artificial suicide from their newest album (one that you also learn you were the muse for a couple of songs on the record), ‘The Death Of Peace Of Mind.’

even though you didn’t really know the words to their newer work since you’ve only really heard the demos and songs from the band’s first two records, you can help but feel proud for how far they’ve come knowing that noah had expressed some doubts for the record with you during your time together.

while watching the show, you constantly had a feeling that you were being watched…but when you looked up at the stage, you found the front-man of the band gazing off in your direction.

nothing really happened between you two when they were performed besides noah staring at you while singing a couple of songs which you presumed were about you. the rest of the show goes on, you and your friends have the time of your lives screaming your favorite songs on the top of your lungs. when the show was over just as you were about to leave ash, noah’s trainer and bad omens new security caught your attention saying they’d like to invite you backstage so you decide why, not ! after all you and noah are still friends even though he was the only love you regret breaking things off with.

ash guides you in the direction of the Omens’ green room when you notice someone standing in the distance. as you both get closer to the room, you soon realize that this person is actually just noah who asked ash to bring you backstage so the two of you could “catch up.”

which led to noah bringing you back to his hotel room and ending up laying beneath you, fiercely rolling your hips against his with some help provided by him thrusting into you. moans and grunts spill from you guys’ lips, getting closer and closer to your release….right when you grind on his dick hitting your sweet spot perfectly, feeling pure ecstasy wash over the both of you as he holds your hips down so he can fill up your pussy with his cum.

just as noah wakes up in the morning, he remembers everything that happened last night. looking down at you still asleep with the sun peaking through the blinds and shining on your gorgeous face is when the realization hits him…he can’t let you go again.

meanwhile, you just woke up, not really remembering where you were or what happened but when you looked down to see you wearing one of noah’s shirts and then back up to see his smiling handsome face. which brings back all the memories from a few years ago, it felt like nothing changed…”we should talk” breaks you away from your thoughts (aka, regrets for even breaking up with him)…

the conversation ended with you two walking out into the lobby of the hotel they were staying in, holding noah’s hand with the biggest, lovesick smiles on your faces to hear someone yell “FINALLY!” in the distance. (it was a combination of jolly and matt who were celebrating seeing you two together)

[tadpolesinyourshoes]

more od my stardew brain rot for the masses. I present:

My headcannons after life after marriage with the SDV bachelor/ettes:

Its kinda long, sorry and I also apologize for typos or if its incoherent. I'm no writer

Harvey:

You thoughy he worried avout your health BEFORE you got together, oh boy oh boy. He's alaays asking how you feel, bringing you snacks amd water while you work the farm. He cleans you up after the mines (while he lectures you about the dangers). He likes the domestic moments. The days it rains and you stay inside together with warm cups of coffee, snuggled up in the bed. Hes a classica kind of guy. He leaves roses on the table and brings you breakfast in bed. Since hes a doctor, you're both awake early. Every morning is filled with sleepy kisses and coffee. He never leaves the house without a kiss and a 'see you later'.

Shane:

This man is ANXIOUS. Hes a bundle of self doubt and insecurity. He spends his hours thinking how great you are and how itd a matter of time until you leave him. Reassure him, please. He absolutely loves every minute you're with him. Hes acrually a surprisingly good cook. He also is so good with kids. He definitely wants kids after seeing you with Jas. Hes not big on saying how he feels, but he's working on it. Instead he helps out here and there, feeding the chickens (he actually loves doing that), cleaning the house, cooking a meal when you get home late. Little touches when you're alone. His leg agaisnt yours, his hand gently in your hair while you sleep. He loves you more than anything (except the chickens. Knoe your place.)

Elliot:

He is down SO BAD. Carries a picture of the two of you everywhere. He shows you off whenever he has the chance. Hes just so proud of his sweetheart. He cooks well, but he hates cooking so you two agree to split the chores. You're his muse ans you best believe he makes it known. He leaves you poems; post-it notes on the mirror, on a napkin on the counter, written on the bavk of th grocery list, a torn out notebook page in your coat pocket. He loves when you do his hair. If you don't know how, he teaches you. On slow days on the farm, you leave the front door open for some air and you can hear him playing piano.

Alex:

His love language is tackling you (physical touch). You walk through the door and hes hugging you, kissing your cheeks, picking you up and taking you to bed. He can't cook, but he can bake. Evelyn taught him and he treasures the skill. For every anniversary, no matter how small, he makes a treat. He loves helping you around the farm because its an excuse to walk around shirtless and flex for you. He also has a weirdly green thumb. The crops wont sprout and the season is almost over? Send Alex to water them. The next moening you have a bounty like no other.

Sam:

He has ADHD so he does that peguin pebbling thing where he finds random objects and brings them to you because 'this reminded me of you.' He can't cook. For the love of yoba don't let him cook unless you want to remodel your kitchen. He still tries to be sweet though. Hes not a morning person, but when you wake up early he stumbled put of bed, hair messy, eyes closed and follows you like a sad puppy. Hes so clingy. Like SO clingy. Personal space. Gone. He talks to you through the bathroom door, holds you while you sleep, wants to be next to you all the time. He also loves your animals, especially the chickens. He has one favorite, but he won't say it (he might hurt the others feelings). Sometimes you come back from town and hes sitting outside on the porch talking to the chickens, who look strangely invested.

Sebastian:

He loves you so much, but he hates that everyone KNOWS he loves you. You gush about the sweet things he does to your friends and he goes bright red in the ears. The townsfolk ask about you so he tries to avoid having to talk to them. When you're alone though, he's the total opposite. Hes quiet, sure, but he does whatever he can to help you out. A kiss on your cheek before he goes to water the crops for you. Makes you a cup of coffee after work. When he was little, robin taught him how to carve and widdle. He makes you cute wooden figures, usually modeled after your animals. He takes you to the city for weekend date nights. He asks you to go on rides just to feel your arms around him.

Leah:

She treats you like the most beautiful painting shes ever layed her eyes on. When you're sitting with her on the beach, she'll paint dancing swirls up your arms to your hands. (Maybe you get it tattooed one day and she cries). All the paintings in your house are made by her. Much like Elliott, youre her muse. She makes you sit so she can paint you or practice sketching. But she can never get enough of you. When you lay together, she meticulously traces the shapes of your body. Your hands, your nose, your hips. Everything about you is perfect to her.

Emily:

She's a free, creative person. She wakes you up late at night to look at the stars and dance by the river. Shes been making a quilt out of scrap fabric for your bed. She tries to tesch you how to sew it so you cam be a part of it. She helps you with the crops and picks fresh vegetables when theh grow so she can make you beautiful dinners. She loves to cook for you because you always have something good to say about it. She could be on food network, you swear it. Every day when she gets ready, right after putting on her lipstick, she kisses your cheek to leave a little mark. You leave it there while you do your chores.

Penny:

Penny is naturally an early bird. She wakes up each morning with you. You two share a few minutes of quiet before stsrting coffee. You take turns making breakfast. Penny is so used to keeping the house up by herself after living with Pam, so being with you is a breath of fresh air. But she still likes to help you out. So before going to teach the kids, she helps out in the garden. You pass by in town while shes walking the kids home. You join them on their walk and Jas starts asking you for that princess story again. As you tell it, you see Penny's cheeks go pink. Its only the story of how you met. But to you it felt like a fairy tale. You walk home with your wife every day, sharing stories of your day while settling down on the porch.

Abigail:

Shes high energy. She heard about it, she wants to try it. Take her to the city to a nigt club and she'll dance circles with you all night. She makes you matching bracelets and you never dare to take it off. When you go down to the mines, she wants to come with. She doesn't fear them, but that scares you. You have to convince her to stay with the farm every time. But you always bring her a beautiful gemstone back. You think the amythest brings out her eyes. Shes a decent cook, actually. Contrary to what Sam and Sebastion may say. Her recipes are odd, but somehow, they always work out. Shes not a morning person, she won't get up even if you shake her. But somehow she knows if you forget to give her a kiss on your way out the door.

Haley:

She takes a million pictures of you. She loves to. You hide your face, she tells you how much she likes your smile. You're working on the farm and hear the shutter click. She likes the ways your arms look when you roll up your sleeves. After a long day in town, you bring her flowers. Shes always waiting up for you. She likes to slow dance in the living room and hear about your adventures from the day. She tells Alex about how great you are. Everytime you walk by and catch her off gaurd, she fixes her hair so she 'looks nice'. You just kiss her and tell her she looks nice all the time.

Maru:

She loves to help you out on thr farm. Just not... conventionally. She is her father's daughter, so shes always making you new inventions to make the farm run smoother. Better fertilizer, fresh feed thst produces better eggs, though she was banned from tending the animald after one of her feeds turned your chickens eggs bright pink. She loves to walk around town with you, always with your hand in hers. She's not a cook, but she still tries to learn from you. Shes learning, but she mostly just likes getting to be near you while you cook.

[leilakisakabiri]

could u to a gavi x singer reader? she’s more outgoing and not as shy as he is and writes songs about him // dedicates them to him during her concerts and he’s just a super proud bf 💗💗

Number One (PG6)

Summary: Gavi being your biggest supporter.

A/N: Quick one! Miss him on the field already :(

Word count: 700+

Masterlist

“I can’t tell you all how much it means to me that you’re here – I love you. Thank you so much for your support!” You exclaimed, in awe of the crowd chanting your name.

“I wanna dedicate this song,” you continued smiling as the cheering intensified, “to a special someone who’s basically my muse for this whole EP, thanks for getting me famous,” you joked, “Oh, and also for making me feel loved.”

The beginning beats of your most popular song began to play and if you thought the crowd was loud before they went even crazier, screaming when they saw the camera pan over to Gavi in the VIP section, a proud smile on his face while he cheered along with your fans.

You had just confirmed the rumors that had been circulating for weeks – you were together.

You couldn’t keep the grin off your face as you sang the chorus, hearing the crowd sing along, the camera once again panning to Gavi, showing him scream-singing the lyrics with his sister, his grin mirroring your own.

You bowed once you had finished your set, thanking your audience once again. You looked over to the VIP section and made eye contact with Gavi, he immediately put his hands into a heart shape, lifting it above his head for you to see.

You felt your heart swell, usually, you would be the one doing that at his games, and it meant so much to you that he had come to support you and had done the same thing.

Without a second thought, you copied his actions, taking a final bow as you exited the stage.

Your heart was pounding, adrenaline racing through your veins.

You couldn’t believe it. You had just played your first big festival and everyone had seemed to love it.

You were in the middle of taking off your earpiece when you saw Gavi and Aurora walking towards you.

You finished unhooking yourself before you met them in the middle pulling them into a group hug.

“You were amazing Y/n!” Aurora praised you.

You let out a laugh, “Thank you! And thank you guys for coming!”

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” Gavi replied.

Aurora huffed, “He’s definitely not lying about that.”

You gave her a questioning look.

She sighed, giving Gavi a glare, “Gavi was so annoying, he kept rushing me. He was so worried we wouldn’t make it in time that we left an hour and a half earlier than we needed to, and he wouldn’t even let me walk around, scared that we would miss your performance, so we stood in that tent for like three hours.”

You turned to face a blushing Pablo, who was desperately trying to avoid eye contact with you, embarrassed at having been called out.

You reached out, wrapping your arms around his waist as you peered up at him, “Awh Pablo! Thank you, you didn’t have to do all that.”

He finally looked at you, hands coming to rest against your shoulders, as his fingers absentmindedly played with the ends of your hair.

“Couldn’t miss your first performance. Especially since it was dedicated to me.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Mhm how do you know I wasn’t talking about another guy?”

He gave you an offended look, “Please Y/n. We both know that no one makes you feel the way I do.”

You felt your stomach fill with butterflies at his words, you wanted him, and he knew it.

“Am I wrong?” He asked, face inching closer to yours.

Your eyes stayed fixed on his as he moved closer, a mischievous grin adoring his features.

“Ugh enough coupley shit.” Aurora groaned from beside you.

You laughed, pulling yourself back to reality and separating yourself from Gavi even as he tried to bring you back.

“Sorry! It’s all friendly here.” You declared.

Aurora smiled, grabbing your hand, “Perfect. Well, in that case, Gavi we’ll meet you by the food carts, I have to show Y/n this stand.”

You giggled as she pulled you along, looking back to see Gavi with an annoyed expression on his face as he watched his sister pull you away.

“I’ll be back!” You yelled.

“Not soon enough.” He shook his head smiling.

[joanquill]

Confession time + "Surprise!"

Hello thanks for the opportunity *-* I would like to request : - After reader came back badly hurt from a mission(but will survive) -> 5 (if you do not like it maybe 25) - Albert - well then romantic x) - fluff (And I'll wait next year to ask 28 or 4 xD haha) Thanks <3

Albert James Moriarty

A/N: I kind of made Albert more on the teasing side if that's okay ^^"

You gasped as you shot upright, cold sweat trickling down your forehead as you panted, finding yourself on a bed and covered in bandages.

'What-Ow!'  you flinched as a sharp pain shot through your side.

You groaned as you looked around, seeing you were inside a hospital room and found a vase of red roses on your bedside table.

"...What happened in the mission?..." you muttered, trying to recall what led you here.

"Excuse me-" the door opened, and you saw a doctor walk in, a shocked expression on his face when he saw you.

You awkwardly waved your hand, snapping him out of it, and called for a nurse in a hurry, making you more nervous.

'How long was I out?'

"Four weeks!?" you repeated, stunned by the answer as the doctor confirmed.

"Aside from a traumatic brain injury, you also had a couple of broken ribs and numerous cuts all over your arms, legs, and torso," the doctor listed as he wrote on his clipboard, making you look down at your bandage-covered body.

"You will need to stay in the hospital for at least two more weeks so we can monitor your recovery," he added, making you internally sigh.

"Okay..." you muttered, processing this new information.

"You're quite lucky," the doctor added, pocketing his pen, "If you were brought just a minute too late, you might not have survived,"

"Yes! You have quite the loving husband," the nurse happily added, making you blink at her in confusion.

"I-I'm sorry... husband?"

"A man brought you in. It was quite the sight, seeing a noble covered in blood while carrying someone in his arms," the doctor mused, making you freeze.

'A noble... That means...'  you thought, knowing only two people who can fit the title.

"E-Excuse me..." you called out, catching the two's attention, "The man who brought me here... What color was his hair?"

"Brown,"

'That's what I thought...!'  you thought in horror, already hearing the teasing and jokes from a mile away.

"He's quite the devoted husband, too! Visiting you every day with roses in hand," the nurse happily sighed as if congratulating you.

You felt your face flush at her comment, making you quickly deny it.

"N-No, you've got it all wrong!"

"Speaking of him," the doctor quipped, pulling out his pocketwatch as he ignored your protests, "He should be arriving soon,"

The door opened as if on cue, revealing a tired Albert holding a bouquet of roses.

His eyes slowly looked up and landed on you, making him gasp as his eyes widened.

"We'll take this as a sign to leave," the nurse whispered, winking at you as she pulled the doctor along and left the room, unable to give you a second to protest.

As the door closed, you could feel the heavy awkwardness in the air.

"S-Surprise...!" we weakly greeted, wanting to feel the silence with something while Albert kept quiet.

"S-Sorry, I guess that's not the first you should say when you wake up from a-" you felt Albert hug you tightly, not applying pressure on your injuries as you saw the roses he had a second ago fall on the floor.

"You're awake..." he whispered, his whole body trembling as he kept you close.

You took a deep breath as you hugged him back.

"Yeah... I'm back..."

"I can feed myself," you grumbled with flushed cheeks, avoiding the apple slice Albert was trying to feed you.

"You shouldn't move so much," he warned with a glare, making you sigh and reluctantly take the slice.

As you chewed, you looked over to the roses Albert brought in, now replacing the roses from before.

"Say... The flowers," you turned around to him, making him look at the vase.

"...I've been changing them whenever I visit," he confirmed, giving you another slice.

"I see..." you replied, remembering the nurse's comment as you looked away in embarrassment.

"Is something wrong?" Albert quickly got up from his seat, touching your forehead as he checked your temperature.

"I'm fine! I'm okay!" you quickly confirmed, pulling his hand off as he sighed in relief.

"That's good to hear..." he muttered, grabbing the fruits again.

You raised a brow as you looked at him, not used to seeing this side of him.

"...Since when have you been this caring?" you bluntly asked, catching him off guard.

He breathed out a smirk as he peeled another apple.

"Since I almost lost the person I love," he confessed, making you freeze.

"Don't joke about that," you grumbled, feeling your face warm up as Albert chuckled with a teasing grin.

"Who said it was a joke?"

[jokeringcutio]

Reader x William Afton - Best Friend's dad (Explicit, SMUT)

Below you'll find a FNAF Ficlet, Rated Explicit for Sexual Content, Dub-con elements, unprotected!, fingering, creampie, forced creampie/breeding kink, older man x younger woman, loss of virginity, Best friend's dad x reader, William Afton is not a nice man, dark romance, Penis in v smut, (f) reader. Summary: After working on a project with your classmate (who is also your best friend and secret crush) Michael Afton, you forget your phone and head back to his house to retrieve it. Michael's dad has plans for you.

~ Best Friend's Dad ~

The floorboards creaked under your feet as you tiptoed over to Michael, leaning over his shoulder to watch what he was scribbling. He was seated on his bed, both of you in his bedroom, as you tried to work on a group project.

“It’s looking good,” you said, a bright smile on your lips. “Better with the colors added.”

Michael smiled up at you, a spark in his eyes while his arm brushed against yours, making goosebumps prickle your skin. “Well, it was your idea. And since we need to hold a presentation on this, I suppose aesthetic is just as important," he rolled his eyes, voice jocular, but you knew that he at least had taken your suggestions to heart.

You were there to work on a college assignment with him, but the atmosphere felt charged with something else - tension, desire, and silent communication. You tried to focus on the task at hand, but your body betrayed you, responding to every gentle brush of Michael's arm against yours.

"Hey, do you think we should add this quote here?" Michael asked, his voice low and soothing as he leaned closer to you, his breath tickling your ear. His fingers brushed against yours, causing your heart to race with anticipation. You blushed, shyly glancing up into his intense gaze, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

Though you had been friends for years, it was only recently that you began to feel attracted to him. But you wanted to take things slow; you didn't want to risk ruining the friendship if things didn't work out.

"Uh, yeah, sure," you stuttered, attempting to regain control over your body and thoughts. It wasn't easy, especially with Michael sitting so close to you.

"Come on, don't be so nervous," Michael teased, noticing your discomfort. "It's just me, after all." He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief, making your stomach flutter with excitement. You knew he was right, but you couldn't help feeling overwhelmed by the situation.

"Sorry," you mumbled, ducking your head down to avoid his probing gaze. "I guess I'm just...overthinking things." You focused on the assignment, trying to keep your mind off the electric energy that seemed to flow between you and Michael.

"Nothing wrong with thinking," he said, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. Your eyes traveled to where he had held you, as if the touch still lingered. Your skin burned where he had touched you, your pulse quickening. Then you looked back up at him, trying to read his expression. Did he feel the same way you did? Was he testing the waters, or just being friendly?

The sound of the front door opening echoed through the house, and you frowned at Michael, who seemed just as surprised as you were. The two of you shared a look before he shrugged it off and returned to the assignment.

"Didn't expect Dad to be home this early," he murmured, his pen scratching against the paper.

"Michael, is that you?" A deep voice called from downstairs, and your breath hitched.

William Afton, Michael's father, had an imposing presence that made you feel uneasy in his company. As he appeared in the doorway of Michael's bedroom, you couldn't help but compare him to his son. He was taller, his hair peppered with grey strands, and his beard gave him a distinguished air. The aviator glasses perched on his nose gave him somewhat of a stern appearance, and you wondered how Michael would look if he wore glasses. Pretty similar, you mused.

But beneath the similarities, there was something darker lurking in his eyes – something that sent shivers down your spine.

"Ah, I see you have some… company," William sneered, his gaze traveling over your body like a predator sizing up its prey. He greeted you by your name, “It’s been a while since I last saw you,” he said.

“Hi Mr. Afton,” you stammered, cheeks red as you felt uncomfortable being addressed by Michael’s father directly. You were happy that he usually wasn’t around much, being too caught up at work in the restaurant. The way he looked at you was making you feel uneasy.

While his eyes remained fixed on you, his words were clearly directed at his son again while he loomed in the doorway, hands pressed against the doorpost on either side. "Well, Michael, I didn't know you had your girlfriend over.”

"Dad, she's not my girlfriend,” Michael replied, a bit too fast for your liking, and you cast him a curious glance to see how he shifted uncomfortably next to you.

“She's my classmate. We're working on a project together," Michael snapped, his cheeks reddening in embarrassment. You could tell he was annoyed by his father's insinuation, but you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it than that.

"Right, well, don't let me interrupt your… studies," William drawled, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before he retreated down the hallway. "I'll be in my workroom if you need anything."

As soon as he was out of sight, you exhaled the breath you'd been holding, feeling the weight of his stare lift from your shoulders. You didn't like the way he looked at you, as though you were nothing more than an object for his amusement. It made your skin crawl.

"Sorry about that," Michael muttered, his eyes downcast. "My dad can be a bit…intense."

"It's okay," you reassured him, attempting a weak smile. "Let's just focus on the assignment."

You tried to push the encounter from your mind, but the tension in the room was palpable, even after William had disappeared down the hallway. Michael clenched his fists, his jaw tight with frustration. "I swear, he's such an asshole," he muttered under his breath.

"Hey, it's okay," you tried to console him, laying a gentle hand on his arm. "Let's just get this assignment done and forget about it."

He let out a deep breath and nodded, forcing a smile. "You're right. Grumping about it won’t help us score an A."

“A plus,” you joked, happy to see him smile again.

The two of you scribbled down notes and discussed theories until you both carried honest smiles again. Silly jokes slipped through, weird suggestions for the project were made, and in the end, the two of you were laughing on the bed.

You couldn't help but feel Michael's eyes on you every now and then. It wasn't unwelcome, but it stirred a strange mix of warmth and unease within you. You really liked him. But did you like him enough?

"All right, I think we've got everything we need," Michael announced as he closed his textbook. He glanced at the clock on the wall and sighed. "Damn, I need to head to soccer training."

"Already?" you asked, surprised by how quickly time had slipped away.

"Unfortunately,” he moped, standing up from the bed and putting his book aside. “But hey, thanks for your help today."

He stretched his arms before offering a hand to help you up from the bed. "I'll walk you out."

You smiled as you collected your bag, putting your own textbook and pencils inside before zipping it and flinging it over your shoulder. Michael waited patiently before walking ahead of you, through the clean hallway and toward the front door. He only halted once to grab his soccer bag.

As you reached the door, Michael hesitated. "Listen, I'm really sorry for the rush. I completely forgot the time and you know…"

"It's all right, Michael," you reassured him, giving his hand a comforting squeeze. "Don't worry about it. We finished what we had to do. We can play one of your games later," you said, knowing how you usually loved to spend your time together playing games on his game consoles or by watching silly videos online. You still tried to convince him to start a channel of his own. His impressions were the best.

Michael closed the door behind you before he offered a small smile and pulled you into a hug. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, pulling you in for a hug.

The scent of his cologne filled your senses, making your heart race. You hesitated for a moment before returning the embrace.

"Take care of yourself, okay?" he whispered in your ear. “I’ll see you tomorrow at college.”

With that, you both pulled away and said your goodbyes.

The cold air nipped at your skin and you huddled your coat closer around you. As you walked away from the Afton house, you reached into your bag to grab your phone, seeking a distraction, only to find that it wasn't there.

"Shit," you muttered to yourself, stopping in your tracks. Panic set in as you realized you had left it behind at Michael's place - and it had crucial notes for college on it.

The haunting memory of Mr. Afton’s gaze lingered in your mind, making you shudder involuntarily. You had to go back there, you realized. And without Michael, it meant you would have to face his father again.

Alone.

But it seemed you had no choice. You turned back towards the Afton house, your heart pounding in your chest. The thought of facing Mr. Afton again sent chills down your spine, but you knew you couldn't afford to leave your phone behind.

You hesitated at the front door of the Afton house, your hand hovering over the doorbell. Your heart raced in your chest, the pounding a constant reminder of what you were about to face.

"Come on, it's just a phone," you whispered to yourself, trying to muster up the courage to ring the bell. Finally, you pressed it, the chime echoing through the seemingly empty house.

Not much later, the door creaked open, revealing a displeased William Afton. His eyes narrowed as he looked down at you, an irritated sigh escaping his lips. "Back already? What do you want?"

"Um, I-I left my phone inside," you stammered, glancing nervously into the dimly lit hallway behind him. "I need it for college."

"Fine," he snapped, stepping aside to allow you entry. "Make it quick."

You stepped into the house, your pulse quickening with each step you took toward Michael's room. The door was slightly ajar, and you pushed it open, relieved to spot your phone between the covers of Michael's bed. Bending over, you reached for it.

And then you froze as you felt a presence behind you, too close for comfort. Something hard and hot was suddenly pressed against you. Mr. Afton’s hands found your hips, steadying you as if you were about to fall.

"Wh-what are you doing?" you managed to choke out, your voice barely audible.

"Isn't it obvious?" he replied nonchalantly, smirking down at you. Panic coursed through your veins, your breaths coming in shallow gasps.

William Afton’s hands started to unapologetically roam your body, his fingers tracing the outline of your trembling form. Each touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for the attraction you felt toward him. He leaned in close, his warm breath tickling your ear as he whispered, "I've wanted you for so long, watching you with Michael every time you came over. How I wished it was me touching you instead."

"Michael never touched me,” you whispered, uncertain why those words came out. Why did you feel like you had to defend your relationship with Michael in front of his dad? “We are just friends," you insisted, your voice shaking.

"Really?" William sounded genuinely surprised. “Does he know this?”

You blinked, uncertain of what Mr. Afton meant.

An annoyed groan came from behind you as one of William’s hands roughly kneaded one of your breasts through your shirt. You yelped, arching your back and accidentally pushing your hips right against his crotch. His erection pushed back, making you freeze in his hands once more.

“I suppose what I am trying to ask,” Mr. Afton rasped, his breath tickling the skin of your neck and voice hoarser than you ever heard it before, "is if you ever slept with my son?”

You trembled slightly in his hands, mind reeling. So many memories of being in the Afton household emerged, but they were all friendly. Never like that.

“Not even a blowjob?” He whispered, voice dripping with sin.

A shuddered breath escaped your lips as you shook your head determinedly. “Like I said, Mr. Afton, we are just friends.”

A low hum escaped the older man, his fingers tickled down your skin thoughtfully. “Hard to believe a pretty girl like you never got laid." Something changed about his tune then, as his words turned into a rasped whisper, "I suppose what I want to know is...”

Here he hesitated, brushing his lips past the shell of your ear while his arms kept you trapped against his body, “Are you a virgin?"

The question shocked you to your core, and you stammered, "Mr. Afton! That's... inappropriate."

"Is it now?" he teased, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties, making contact with your sensitive clit. The feeling surprised you, your body instantly responding to his touch. You gasped as he began rubbing slow circles around it, igniting a fire within you that you'd never experienced before.

"You're wet," he stated, his voice low and dangerous. "You must want this, don't you?"

"Please," you begged, unsure whether you were asking for him to stop or continue. Your mind raced with conflicting thoughts and desires, your body betraying you as it craved more of his touch.

"Such a good girl," he murmured, inserting a finger inside you, making you whimper. The haunting tone of his voice seemed to wrap around you like a vice, tightening its grip on your very soul.

"Mr. Afton," you moaned, unable to resist the urge to push back against his hand, seeking more of that intoxicating pleasure he offered.

“Oh-ho, Mr. Afton,” William said while his fingers continued their sinful dance, sliding in and out of your cunt with sopping wet sounds that sounded so sinful, you felt like you were losing your mind. Especially when he started flicking his thumb roughly past your clit.

“I like that,” his words came out as a growl while he nipped his teeth at your ear. “Makes me feel in charge.”

Without a warning, Afton’s fingers slipped deeper inside your sopping wet cunt, you couldn't help but feel embarrassed by the lewd sounds that echoed throughout the room. Your thoughts raced, unable to comprehend that it was your best friend's father who was currently fingering you so expertly.

"God, you're so tight and wet," he growled, his voice sending shivers down your spine. Your walls clamped down on his fingers despite their punishing pace. It felt so, so good. "You must really enjoy this, huh?"

His words were like a knife, cutting through any remaining self-control you had left. You bit your lip, trying to focus on anything other than the pleasure that threatened to consume you. But it was impossible – every stroke of his fingers, every teasing touch against your sensitive clit, only drew you deeper into the dark abyss of desire.

"Please..." you whimpered, the word barely audible as it escaped your lips. You didn't even know what you were begging for anymore – relief? Mercy? More?

"You're such a good girl," he whispered in your ear, his breath hot and heavy against your skin. "So eager to please... Just imagine if Michael could see you now."

The thought mortified you, but it also sent a perverse thrill through your body. The idea of being discovered in such a vulnerable state only served to heighten your arousal.

"Look at me," William demanded, grabbing your chin and forcing you to meet his icy gaze. His eyes bore into yours, daring you to look away as he continued to finger you mercilessly.

"Come for me," he ordered, his voice dripping with authority. It took every ounce of willpower you possessed not to obey him instantly, but in the end, your body betrayed you.

With a cry, you climaxed on his fingers, the waves of pleasure crashing over you like a relentless tidal wave. As you trembled in his arms, he smirked down at you, clearly enjoying the sight of your complete and utter submission.

"Such a good girl," he repeated, slowly retracting his hand from between your legs. You felt a pang of loss as his fingers left your body, but that feeling was quickly replaced by shame as he held them up for you to see.

"Look," he commanded, making sure you watched as he brought his wet digits up to his face. His lips parted, agonizingly slowly, and then his tongue darted out between them, the tip twirling around his fingertips.

He made sure that you watched him as he licked each finger clean, the wet trace of your arousal glistened before his tongue lapped it up. His cold blue eyes were fixed upon you, their pupils blown as he savored the taste of you. A low hum escaped him as he finished the last of your juices. "Tastes sweet."

Then his blue eyes settled back on you, dark and gaze heavy.

His words made something snap inside of you. What the fuck were you doing? You’ve let your best friend’s father finger you?

No.

He had made it look all too easy, and if there was something you were not, it was an easy lay. You had saved yourself for someone special. For Mr. Right. You hadn’t decided who it was yet, but Michael was high on your list. Not his creepy father who he seemed to hate passionately.

Your eyes darted down, away from William’s glistening fingers and to the tent he sported in his pants. The shape of his cock was perfectly outlined beneath the fabric, looking large and heavy.

He wasn’t done yet.

You had to get away.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you tried to push past William and make a dash to Michael’s door, desperate to escape. But he was quicker. Large hands wrapped around your upper arms. You instantly struggled and kicked at him. But he was too strong, easily tossing you back onto Michael's bed like a ragdoll. The air was knocked from your lungs as you landed, gasping for breath.

"Imagine how dirty it would be," William whispered, crawling on top of you. The sound of rustling fabric reached your ears as he undid his fly and pulled out his hard and glistening cock, palming it. "If I took your virginity right here on my son's bed."

Your cheeks burned with shame at his words, but a traitorous part of you couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement at the thought.

"Please don't," you whimpered, even as your core throbbed with a mixture of fear and desire. But your pleas only seemed to amuse him. He smirked, easily parting your legs with his strong hands.

"Come on, work with me," he ordered, his voice dripping with authority. His hands pushed against your legs, making it clear what he wanted you to do.

Reluctantly, you spread your legs wider, not fighting when he started to pull your pants down, making it easier for him to slip your panties off. You knew it was wrong, but the heat pooling between your thighs refused to be denied.

With a predatory grin, William came to stand between your spread legs, wrapping his hand around his cock, sliding his palm up and down, smearing pre-cum from the tip all over his shaft until it glistened.

You couldn't tear your eyes away from the sight– it was as if you were under his spell. Your heart raced, torn between terror and anticipation.

His eyes flitted down to your exposed core and he tutted.

“My, my, such a pretty little pussy,” and you felt your cheeks flush at his comment. "All mine."

The low rasp of his voice sent sparks of arousal deep inside.  

"Look at me," he commanded, positioning himself at your entrance. You no longer saw his cock, only felt it as it pressed hot and wet against your entrance.

You locked eyes with him, unable to look away. Slowly, his lips curled into a grin. And then, without warning, he thrust inside you, bottoming out, claiming your virginity in one swift, brutal motion.

The pain was sharp and intense, but it was soon replaced by an overwhelming wave of pleasure as William started to pump into you. First gently, then a bit faster.

Your world narrowed down to the sensation of his hard length filling you completely. You knew it was wrong – so very wrong – but you were powerless to resist the pleasure he was giving you. You parted your lips in silent gasps while your hands sought his arms for leverage.

William's thrusts grew more rhythmic, his hips grinding against yours with a hunger that both terrified and excited you. He leaned down, close enough for you to feel his breath on your ear as he whispered, "You like this, don't you? You like being fucked on my son's bed."

Your cheeks burned with shame, but you couldn't deny the pleasure that consumed you. It was intoxicating, the way William seemed to know exactly how to touch you, how to make your body sing.

"Answer me," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. His hand snaked around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. "Do you like this?."

"I... I do," you admitted, the words spilling from your lips before you could stop them. You felt the stutter of his hips, how he stilled, then looked up to see him frown down at you.

"Do you?"

You frowned as well now, the haze of your building orgasm already slowly fading. It was as if William saw what was happening, for he pushed his cock deep inside, nudging the entrance to your womb painfully with the head, staking dominance.

"Tell me you are mine," the words came out with an animalstic growl that indicated he wouldn't take pleasure with anything less than your compliance. You hesitated, breath caught in your throat, then complied, placing your hands gently upon his clad chest. The checkered blouse crumpled beneath your fingers.

"I'm yours," another raised eyebrow and deep nudge of his cockhead against your cervix, and you flinched.

"Whose?" he asked you sternly, reminding you of a schoolteacher with the way his dark eyes penetrated you from over his glasses.

"Yours, Mr. Afton," you gasped, instantly feeling his hips move again. A low, satisfied growl escaped the depth of his chest. You felt it, felt the rumble beneath your hands.

"Atta girl," you heard the breathless words from his lips. "Call me Mr. Afton more, sweetheart. Show who is in charge."

"Y-yes, Mr. Afton," the words came out as gasps, unable to utter them fully with the way William was moving inside you.

A wicked grin spread across William's face, his hand slid past your forehead and gently down your cheek, almost lovingly. And then he rewarded your honesty with a particularly hard thrust that sent shivers down your spine.

"Good girl," he purred, his fingers digging into your skin as he picked up the pace. You could feel the heat building within you, an insistent pressure that begged for release.

“You can come again, can’t you?” It wasn't really a question, more like a demand. “I want to feel you come on my cock."

His command echoed in your mind as his movements grew rougher, more desperate. The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, your moans intertwining with his grunts and groans.

William Afton was larger than you, bulkier, and incredibly strong. His hand slipped back to your throat, tightening a little, just enough to make you gasp for air. The action made your walls clench down his cock even harder. The way he overpowered you, the way his cock hit that sweet spot deep inside, had you mewling with pleasure. Sweat slicked your bodies, making it easier for him to slide in and out of you.

"Fuck, you're so tight," William growled, his voice strained with pleasure as your pussy pulsed around him.

"Please," you whimpered, teetering on the edge of ecstasy. "Please, I need to..."

"Then come for me," he ordered, his grip on your throat tightening, literally taking your breath away. "Show me how much you want this."

As if on cue, your world shattered into a million pieces, your body convulsing with pleasure. Never had you experienced such an intense orgasm, and it left you breathless, oversensitive, and desperate for more.

You threw your head back in ecstasy, feeling his fingers slip from your neck. Your pussy pulsed wildly around his cock. William's laughter filled your ears, malicious and victorious.

"Feel that?" he asked, his voice rough with lust. "That's how much you belong to me. And now,” he said in between gasps, his hips pushing harshly against yours. You felt how your walls fluttered around his cock as it kept battering your cervix with fervor.

A low grunt escaped the depth of his chest, “I’m going to come,” he panted. Another gasp and deep thrust of his hips that had you shoved up the bed, pussy still pulsing wildly around his cock, “inside you,” he promised, each word punctuated with a fresh thrust. "Deep inside of you."

You were faintly aware of murmuring something incoherently, to which Michael’s dad replied with a murmur of his own, ��Inside, love. Put my baby there. See how Michael's gonna like a baby brother or sister from the girl he loves." The thought both thrilled and scared you, and you shook your head no - not yet, too young, not ready - but William growled above you, uncaring about your wish. "Gonna fill you up good."

The thought sent another wave of desire through you, and you found yourself clenching around him, desperate for more. With a roar, William drove himself deep inside you one final time.

Warm liquid flushed into your pulsing core, his hot cum flooding your insides so much that some of it started to drip down his cock, as he, too, reached his peak.

For a moment, the room was consumed by the sound of your mutual pants and gasps, the aftermath of your frenzied coupling.

You felt the hot rush of his release deep inside your tummy and realized what had been done. How you had just allowed Michael’s father to rut into you like an animal in heat.

The room smelled heavily of sex, the scent mingling with the musky aroma of Michael's bedroom. Shame started to creep upon you as you floated back to earth, the afterglow of your orgasm fading.

Slowly, William climbed off you, his cock sliding out of your abused cunt, leaving you feeling strangely empty. You felt a wet trail on the inside of your legs, a mixture of slick and cum.

"Stay here," he commanded, his tone sharp and cold as he strode over to the window, flinging it open, allowing the cool evening air to filter into the room. The breeze stirred the curtains, casting eerie shadows on the walls.

As William returned to the bed, he casually reached for a napkin that was tucked under Michael's pillow. You followed his movements with your eyes, feeling them grow wide as they came to rest on his softening cock. It glistened in the light of Michael’s bedroom lamp. Covered in juices.

And blood.

You watched how Michael’s dad meticulously used the napkin to wipe the remnants of your virgin blood from his cock. Without a word, he then folded the soiled napkin and slipped it into the breast pocket of his blouse, patting the pocket, as if it were a trophy.

The sight made you shudder.

His gaze fell upon the blood and cum-stained sheets, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Well, I suppose Michael's bed has seen better days," he mused. "We shouldn't let his mom see this." Then his eyes locked onto yours.

"But you, my dear... You've been such a good girl, letting me be your first." His words sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of shame and excitement coursing through your veins.

"Please don't tell anyone," you pleaded as you tried to push yourself up on your elbows, your voice trembling with vulnerability. You knew that if word ever got out about what had happened, your life would never be the same again.

"Of course not," William said, his smile taking on a predatory edge. "As long as you’ll be my good girl,” he came to kneel on the bed, a knee at either side of you, cupping your cheeks in his hands and forcing your eyes to meet his.

His thumb slipped in between your lips, pressing down on your tongue, making it impossible for you to speak. You tried to swallow around the digit, mouth suddenly dry as he spoke slowly, as if he were talking to a small child and wanted to make sure the child understood.

“Just remember who you belong to."

The implications of his words hung heavy in the air between you, and despite the lingering thrill of your climax, a cold dread filled your stomach.

Then his thumb was gone from your lips and Mr. Afton had turned away from the bed. You gazed up at him confusedly, watching the movements of his arms as he seemed to zip his pants and straighten his blouse.

He then turned around, pushing his index finger against the front of his aviator glasses. His expression was stern, lips pressed into a thin line, voice betraying no emotion.

"Make yourself presentable, and go home," he commanded coldly. "You wouldn't want to fall behind on your homework, would you?" His tone was callous, as if nothing had just transpired between the two of you.

Confused and still trembling, you pushed yourself off the bed.

Mr. Afton leaned in the doorway of Michael’s room, arms crossed in front of his chest, a bored expression on his face as he watched you get dressed. You tried to straighten your clothes and fix your hair, arms trembling.

"Go home," he told you once you were fully clothed, his voice devoid of any warmth or affection. "Don’t forget your phone.”

You nodded numbly, unable to speak, swung your bag over your shoulder and picked up your phone. Carefully, you stepped toward him, only to watch him step aside so you could pass him without so much as brushing past him.

A little voice piped up inside your head, telling you that it had always tried to warn you of this. Mr. Afton’s coldness had returned in full. His searing hot gaze had been replaced by one you could not read. Distant and cold.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stumbled through the hall, each step a painful reminder of the heavy fucking you had just endured. The reality of what had happened began to sink in, and you couldn't help but wonder what would become of you now that you'd given yourself so completely to this dangerous man. The promise of having to be his good girl - of now belonging to this man - lingered in the back of your mind. Why had you made them?

William followed closely behind, his presence looming over you like a dark shadow. As you reached out to open the door, thinking this was it and you would leave without another word being said, his hand shot up and pushed against the wood before you could turn the handle.

"Look at me," he demanded, forcing you to look up and meet his eyes. His gaze bore into you, making you feel even more powerless.

"From now on, I expect you to milk my cock whenever I desire." Chills ran down your spine at his words, a mix of fear and unwanted arousal stirring within you.

He lifted a finger to your lips, brushing the fingertip past your sensitive skin and silencing any protests you might have had. "This is our little secret, understood?"

The threat was in there, clear as day. You had to keep quiet about this.

Not that you could tell anyone. Not with how famous and influential of a man Mr. Afton was. And you? Who were you? Just a silly college girl.

You nodded, unable to speak.

William gave you a sinister smile before gallantly opening the door for you. “Atta girl,” you heard him say as he watched you intently while you stepped outside. “Come visit again soon," a command. You heard his low voice, a raw hunger underneath, "Michael loves it when you're here.”

And so does he, you thought, because being here meant he could get his hands on you again. It was clear by the way he carefully phrased things. He was abusing Michael as an excuse to lure you back in.

Your name fell from Mr. Afton's lips like dripping honey, a dark promise hidden within them, obviously coated with desire. He wanted to see you again. Do this again. And you realized with a start that you would be back... for Michael. But could you dodge his father? Prevent this from happening again? Did you even want to?

Clutching your phone tightly in your hand, you wondered what kind of twisted nightmare you had just become entangled in.

“Good evening, Mr. Afton,” you whispered, then turned your back to him and slowly started your walk home. Aware of the secret you now carried. Bound to your best friend’s father.

Perhaps forever.

~

AN: I am open for prompts. ~~ Masterlist - Request Box -  Support me on Ko-Fi ~~