#(always standing up for the gossiped-about women)

[lifeonmarz-blog]

Every planet in the 12th: Observations

The 12th house shows you in which ways you can leave the biggest impact on the world in the purest most intentional way if you so choose.

*I didn't feel like proof reading spare me*

sun in the 12th often misperceived or seen as having underlining motives even when that is furthest from the truth. Actually quite often upfront with their intentions regardless if they know more than they've led you to believe. The projection others put on them is veryyy high, sun person unconsciously triggering deep seated wounds in others while they just assume they’re having a normal conversation. They either love gossip or are always being brought up in gossip. Attracting secret admirers bc of the taboo aspect of their personality. They teach others how to be themselves through example and that gives them the popular loner vibe, everyone wants to know whats going on in their life. Though Its often not as interesting as the stories that are being created about them (probably at home chilling). Unintentionally very funny their light hearted nature makes others feel comfortable. They know how to create warm welcomes. They can read animals minds. They dress how they feel. Escape artist. Probably through music, film or imagination. Gift for photography.

moon in 12th romantic relationships have a big influence on these people. They'll change their whole life around to fit into their lovers life for better or worse. Naturally harmonious these people are seemingly unsuspecting until you piss them off then you realize they just choose to keep peace. Prone to escapism usually through some sort of creative pursuit turned business. Obviously not forward with their feelings ppl tend to label them as having their head in the clouds when in reality they have plans its just nobody else's business. There's a love/resentful relationship with the mother. The mother could've been a physical provider but not emotional. These ppl had to nurture and comfort themselves and it made them very good at being those things for others. Children and animals loveeeee them. They are givers and don't mind sharing for the greater good. Dependable and persistent they can stick out something they feel is important. But if they don't care... Oh its very obvious. That job they don't like? Oh don't even worry about it they'll quit. They don't like feeling stressed or unharmonious and don't mind removing anything thats trying to hinder that. In the lower natures this creates a person that ignores anything that would make them have to readjust their behavior. Extremely delusional and misreads the room quite often. Very emotional changing how they feel about you frequently. It can become hard to give and receive trust.

Mars in the 12th manifest things/experiences so easy especially through their connections. They know how to put themselves in the right rooms with the right people. They date people that improve their social standing and they do the same in return. When its comes to career they could've seemed like the runt in the group but they grew themselves to be well respected in their field. Often hearing ''you only got this because''. They attract a lot of haters jealous of their success or the way they got their success. these people are attractive and naturally have a body others envy, they always have options and good ones at that.

Venus in 12th boy oh boy the hopeless romantics, but whats so hopeless about it? Others may often wonder why you picked the person you did viewing you as opposites. There may be an age gap or cultural difference. The women often choose partners that have a different social standing or perception than their own. The Men do the same though their more willing to be in relationships with unrequited love. Have had their fair share of infidelity issues until they found the person that would ride or die for them and vise versa. Privacy and trust are high priority for these people. Very good at socializing they know how to read what is needed to improve the energy of a space. Their parties/hostings are always so inviting and rememberable. They work very well with children and animals. Especially those in need. Fostering is something they wouldn't mind doing, along with nursing things back to health. Examples hair, nails. Plants etc. Very crafty they'd create beautiful jewelry and clothing. Their style is unique and acquired taste even. Controlling an image or narrative comes natural these Pol could do damage control for celebrities. When Ppl are in a frantic state they know how to calm assist.

Mercury in 12th are good at controlling the narratives around themselves. People hand on to every word that's said. These are the types that prefer to talk when necessary and not give out to much information. Just enough to keep you hooked. They have a unique sound and are musically inclined it helps that they think outside of the box. Usually the leader of the group because of their ability to see the broader picture and keep everyones best interest at heart. They attract haters bc they set high goals for themselves they get viewed as outlandish or unpractical when actually they just believe in themselves and remain optimistic. They know alot about very specific niche things.

Jupiter in the 12th don't get the credit they deserve for being so iconic. They really are trendsetters that break molds and stereotypes and tend receive backlash for the things they say & do simply because they were the first to do it. Opening up the pathway for others to show up more authentically and protected. They have big expression and are passionate about the things they choose to do. Their not afraid to speak their truth and having a forgiving nature. Creative pursuits are well received by the public attracting sponsors easily. Its also easy for them to find/create a community ppl reall gravitate to them. Their kryptonite lies in their self esteem. If they can't face rejection they'll hide the best parts of themselves. Only seeing the beauty in others and not what they offer the world.

Saturn in the 12th need to know when to stop while their ahead. They get into unnecessary battles bc of a fragile or inflated ego. When the ego is healthy this makes for a very powerful person that commands rooms with ease. They make Pol want to sit up in their chair when they walk in. These Pol are stubborn but more often than not it works out in their favor. Very hard workers and the same energy they apply is expected from those around them. If they put in 80 hrs a week they expect the same from you, if I can do it why can't you mentality. They achieve alot and Ppl notice it but its like no one ever sees them working they just see the finished product and know a lot had to be done behind the scenes. For example let's say someone is very popular you know they would've had to built those relationships you just didn't see it happen. They could have a guilt complex about their achievements and feel like theirs still more they should be doing for other ppl. Growing up as the star, the golden child, the one thats going to help the family put a lot of pressure and responsibility on them. This could've also affected the relationship between the others siblings. Lastly these Ppl are either very serious about punctuality or show up whenever they want to. Maybe even both they could've started out one way and over time became another way. When saturn is damaged they run from responsibility and are viewed as childish and never learning from their lessons.

Neptune in the 12th know how to win over the audience. I chose the word audience bc they love an audience. Ppl will make excuses for their behavior like ''you know they had a rough childhood'' as if that excuses hurting others. Professional sympathy grabbers even when their not even trying and great ass kissers when they want to be. That is in neptunes lower natures ofc. These ppl speak their mind without a fuck given. This is like the only pile im cursing in and that kind of explains them. Their going to say what they want and don't mind shaking the room up. Image is important to them. They'll study their own footage to see what they looked like, sounded like, acted like, and change anything they deem as not fitting. They could be great actors or social media personalities. Also would be good at managing social media accounts. These ppl may be easily persuaded especially by those they view as having a higher social ranking than themselves. Knowing how to adapt to any environment is their strong suit. They act as a mirror in their environment and reflect back whatever energy you give them. To a T at that. They know when to play it up or be more lowkey. This is type of person to always leave lasting impressions on ppl. They could be the first in a taboo field to achieve something. Like being the first pornstar to get 100 million views. Its like when you think you have them figured out they do something else that shows there's many other sides to them. Often hearing ''i didnt think I would like you at first''. With a great sense of humor they know how to laugh at themselves and lighten the mood they don't take life to seriously. They attract a lot of unique ppl their friend group is very expansive. They could be friends with a stripper and an attorney. Hell they might've been a stripper and an attorney.

Uranus in the 12th they just pop up and ppl are surprised like ''omg what are doing here'' these ppl are held in high regard mostly bc their very selective with their energy, your viewed as a busy person so when you come around it makes ppl feel lucky. You treat others fairly and want everyone around you to feel accepted. You value keeping the peace. The fact that I'm even using you instead of they is a reflection of how inclusion is important for you. Having an eccentric vibe is more obvious here but alot of ppl go the opposite way and don't want to appear uniquely at all they actually want to be as plain Jane as possible. This can actually rub ppl the wrong way and make them feel something is being hidden from them like your pretending. Feeling criticized in childhood is why accepting others is something they prioritize. They end up in rooms with many different types of ppl. This placement has a lot of experience in a lot of different areas. With a free spirited nature they are open to trying new things pushing themselves outside of their comfort zone quite often.

Pluto in the 12th, a quiet energy standing in the back of the room scoping out the scenery. They notice more than ppl realize and are smarter than they let on. Often having their power tested bc of their calm observing demeanor. Ppl try to make them feel they don't belong in certain environments or that their not really qualified but they don't mind showing you why that perception isn't accurate. They know how to push back. The type to pretend they don't care about popularity but they work very hard at obtaining it. But maybe they don't care about the popularity just the power that it brings. Knowing the value of relationships they put alot into maintaining them. They are very giving to those around them. Self sacrificing even, its like they believe thats how you show someone you really care. These are some of the most passionate people you'll meet. They just know how to make you feel understood and seen. They make everyone feel special. This is one of the most intense placements for the 12th house. The transformations are deep, murky, confusing but it breeds and very self sufficient determined person. They question everything and are always growing and adapting. When they find something they like they become obsessive about it. They will work for extended amounts at a time. Like binging behavior. In Pluto's lower natures they develop a chip or their shoulder and use their influence to hurt others. If they are operating from that place they become very good at it. If they are never brought into awareness they continue generational curses but their children will have it worse than they did. These are the type of Pol that will tell you a traumatic experience in such a casual way and your just left like wtf you said that like it was normal. They also could've grew up experiencing their traumas being brushed off like they were normal. They were familiar with death from a young age and may have felt like they never really were a child. They build the trust of others easily and its bc their honest. It is what it is to them. They are natural born leaders it doesn't take much convincing & they don't mind leading the way as long as you give them their accolades for it. Mind you they could have a god complex but to be fair if you've experienced or achieved the things they have you might too.

[fictionadventurer]

After very little research into the other writings of Laura Ingalls Wilder and Rose Wilder Lane, my hypothesis about the Little House authorship question is that the writing is mostly Rose's, but the heart is Laura's.

In Laura's newspaper columns, the parts that sound most like Little House mostly come from the extracts she shares from Rose's letters (incidentally, it's kind of adorable how proud she is of Rose: "My daughter's in France!", "My daughter's in Albania!", etc.) The prose of Old Home Town, Rose's inspired-by-my-childhood-home novel, has some of the same concise descriptive prose that I've come to associate with the Little House style (I could hear passages in the voice of the Little House audiobook narrator).

Yet the Little House soul is all over Laura's columns. She's fascinated by the simple tasks of life, believes in home and family and hard work, believes in holding onto the goodness of childhood and looking forward with hope toward the future. There's an optimism, almost a romanticism, about life. The children's series that bears her name clearly comes from the same woman.

Rose, by contrast, is much more pessimistic. When writing about childhood, she's almost cynical about the life of a small town. She highlights the dark stories underlying the wholesome exterior, is extremely sensitive to the pitfalls of the social scene around her. Part of the difference is that Rose is writing for adults, but there does seem to be an essential difference in the personality behind the pen, despite the stylistic similarities to Little House.

(At the risk of pop psychoanalyzing people long dead, Rose seems much more neurotic and introverted and sensitive than her mother. In her writings and in the books about her childhood in Missouri, she comes across as child of a fairly comfortable modern life, with all the modern anxieties, in contrast to a woman who grew up starving on the prairie and knows that there are much worse things to endure than small-town gossip).

It's not much of a thesis, but I'm just fascinated by the fact that the Little House series can share so many stylistic similarities with Rose's writings, yet feel so much more like Laura.

[sttoru]

sukunas fav concubine being bullied by the other concubines?? maybe they push her into the fountain 👀👀👀

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. being bullied because you’re sukuna’s favorite concubine is nothing out of the ordinary. when sukuna finally notices the harassment you’re going through, he doesn’t hold back.

wc. 2.2k-ish

tags. true form!sukuna x concubine! female reader. fluff, angst (hurt to comfort). heian era. bullying. one mention of d.ecapitation. vile language. reader gets called ‘brat’. beta reading? what’s that

“she’s got nothing going on for her,” “right? i don’t get what he sees in her,” “tch—he’s only using her for her body anyway,” “duhh. he can’t be pleased by her looks. i mean, she’s really ugly. i bet he thinks of her as just ‘nother hole to use. . .”

and the shushed gossips continue. the concubines hanging around the garden have noticed your arrival, though do nothing to stop badmouthing you. they couldn’t care less if you hear what they say.

you’re used to it by now. you’ve adjusted to this life of yours as one of sukuna’s concubines. his favourite at that—which automatically makes you a victim of verbal (and sometimes physical) harassment. the other women in the ruthless sorcerer’s harem can’t stand you.

your eyes are glued to the path you’re walking on. your lady-in-waiting doesn’t utter a single word as well, holding her head low as she follows behind you. you know that the concubines will immediately pick on you if you make eye contact with one of them.

it’s moments like these where you actually miss sukuna. his intimidating presence and (in)direct threats would immediately make the others fall silent. you wouldn’t have to hear them call you nasty names.

though, unlucky you, sukuna’s out on business. uraume is left as a temporary supervisor of the entire estate. to make sure nothing goes wrong. despite all of that, you still find yourself in an unfortunate predicament.

“hey. we’re talking to you,” a female voice rings from behind you. it isn’t your lady-in-waiting, but the brown-haired woman whom you recognise as one of sukuna’s concubines. her name. . . you can’t recall.

she forcefully pushes your shoulder with two fingers. you stumble backwards, nearly tripping over the material of your kimono. you look down at the hem and notice a subtle muddy stain on the cloth now that you’ve accidentally stepped on it.

you curse the woman out under your breath. the kimono is one of your favorites since sukuna had it made and tailored to suit your taste.

“my apologies,” you mumble politely. you do not wish to make a scene as much as you want to defend yourself. not in front of those poor servants who are simply minding their business and tending to the garden.

the lady scoffs. another one joins. soon, four of them surround you, leaving you no place to escape the situation. with every step you take back, they take one forward. it’s intimidating, though you try to make it seem like you’re not afraid of their words.

“tell me,” the blonde one speaks up and her hand trails up your arm. she twirls a strand of your hair around her index finger before harshly tugging at it. you wince, but she doesn’t budge, “tell me what sukuna sees in a worthless slut like you.”

it’s about sukuna every time. you’re getting sick of the way they treat you because of something you can’t control. you don’t know why he favors you out of all the other women at his service. the way you’re treated because of something that you cannot change is getting frustrating.

the brown-haired woman follows the other lady. she pushes you until the back of your shoe bumps against the edge of a fountain. the grande fountain in the yard that you always love to admire.

the tugs at your hair get stronger. your patience is wearing thin. you take some time to reply to the other concubines, hoping to silence them for now.

you look up at the group surrounding you—a grin tugging at your lips as you decide to taunt them. you scoff, “hah. you cannot blame me for satisfying my lord better than all of you could do together.”

audible gasps sound from the group of concubines. they can’t believe you had the audacity to talk back and be disrespectful about it. the comment you made clearly struck a nerve. or in this case multiple.

“oh, you slut!” the blonde one shrieks, clearly more than upset by your doubts about her services as a concubine. in a flash of rage, she gives you a firm push, sending you backwards until you fall into the fountain with a loud splash.

your lady-in-waiting is the one gasping this time. she looks at you with great worry in her eyes, not knowing if she needs to go fetch uraume or not. she doesn’t have much say in the matter either way.

you’re humiliated by this. you can feel the water seep into the robes of your kimono, staining the beloved material. your hair is wet as well, the water droplets falling off the ends of your locks.

“pah, you look pathetic,” one of the lower ranking concubines chimes in—giggling at the unfortunate situation you got yourself in. the others follow with their own high pitched laughs, “serves you right.”

you don’t even know what you should do. your body feels heavy because of the water wetting your clothes. your nails drag along the fountain’s surface, trying to compose yourself before you do anything irrational.

you grit your teeth and take a deep breath. you’re shaking, both because of the cold settling over your body as well as the anger simmering inside of you. you open your mouth to say something, only to be interrupted.

by someone you didn’t expect to see any time soon.

“enough.”

the deep tone sends chills down your spine. the volume of the male voice nearly shakes the ground. it’s powerful, dominant and quite aggressive. as if the owner of the voice is pissed. no, more than that.

the group of concubines freeze, not even daring to turn around and face the unexpected visitor. you notice your lady-in-waiting immediately falling to her knees, bowing at the man whom you know very well.

“my lord,” you stammer out, being the first to speak up and address him. you’re surprised to see sukuna back this early from his business trip. he normally stays away from the estate for days on end.

sukuna’s footsteps are heavy. his strides are menacingly slow. the aura surrounding him makes the others shake—one concubine being smart enough to bow to him. the king of curses is not one to be messed with, especially when he’s angry.

“tsk. have you lost all your respect while i was gone?” sukuna growls, seeing how the group of concubines are frozen in place with fearful expressions on their faces. the fact that they’re not bowing before him worsens his temper, “kneel.”

he raises one hand and they all knew what was going to happen. you squeal and shut your eyes, hearing that familiar and dooming sound of slashes around you. it doesn’t sound like they’ve hit anything, so you peek through your eyelashes.

you see how the group of women have dropped to their knees the instant sukuna raised his hand in that specific manner. everyone knew just what that meant; death to anyone who’s got their head held high in his presence.

you’ve all seen enough people get decapitated by that same action to know that the sorcerer was not playing around.

sukuna scoffs. he walks up towards you, ignoring the pleas of the other concubines that are begging for his forgiveness. his bottom set of eyes look down at them with disdain before focusing on your figure again.

he silently stands still at the edge of the fountain. his large frame looms over you and you find yourself struggling to get up from the water to bow at him as well. you keep your eyes on your lap, “i’m sorry, my lord.”

sukuna hisses at your apology. a warning for you to shut your mouth. you’re apologising when it’s not your fault and that irritates him more than anything. two of his strong arms reach down to pick you up from your vulnerable position.

the king of curses hoists you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing. he’s not bothered by the fact that you’re dripping wet. in fact, both of his left arms wrap around your torso in attempt to warm you up.

“stay. you’ll all be dealt with accordingly when i return,” sukuna harshly orders your aggressors as he turns around and walks away from the group. he carries you in his arms, not sparing a single glance at his concubines.

he doesn’t even care that he stepped on one of the women’s hands as he passed by. the high pitched shriek only serves to annoy him, which you notice by the way he squeezes your waist in response.

it’s silent between you two for a bit. sukuna steps inside of the estate, his ominous aura making you hesistant to speak. you decide to stay quiet for the sake of keeping the peace. for now.

sukuna’s breathing is a little heavy. he’s trying not to lash out or say anything hurtful. he doesn’t like raising his voice at you—but sometimes he feels like he needs to. especially when you land in situations like those.

“how long has this been going on?” sukuna asks through a heavy sigh. his red eyes are focused on the end of the hallway, where his chambers lay. the veins in his neck look like they could pop out any second now, “and don’t you dare fuckin’ lie to me, y’hear?”

you gulp. you’ve never been so nervous to answer him, ever. you attempt to respond, “uhm, for quite a while, my lord.”

sukuna breathes in sharply at the revelation. the fact that you did not specify your answer only made him think that it’s worse than you’re making it out to be. he stops in his tracks, two hands on your waist as he forces you to face him.

your body dangles in the air as sukuna makes you look at him from up close, showing you that dangerous look in his eyes. you do not dare to avert your gaze from his as he speaks.

“you should’ve told me the moment they started disrespecting you like that,” sukuna grunts. another big hand grabs your jaw firmly, squeezing your cheeks together. you whine as it hurt a little. he scoffs and releases your jaw with a light push, “pathetic.”

you feel your body get thrown into your original position once more. your head is upside down and your legs hang limply over his shoulder. you try to defend yourself in a quiet tone, “i thought you were too busy. i didn’t want to bother you with such unimportant matters.”

it’s true. as much as you wanted to tell sukuna about the mistreatment you were receiving, you knew how busy he was attending to more urgent business. you didn’t want to annoy him with your own problems that you could easily solve.

if only you could stand up for yourself.

“nonsense,” sukuna raises his voice in a moment of weakness, though remembers that you’ve probably been through enough for the day. he doesn’t need to add to that by treating you like shit as well.

he simply sighs it off, “unimportant, huh? ‘s that how you think i view you?”

you raise an eyebrow at sukuna’s last sentence. you’re at a loss for words. you know sukuna values you more than any of his other concubines—it’s the main reason you’re getting bullied for—yet you never heard him speak to you in such a surprisingly soft way.

almost like he’s disappointed that you don’t realise the extent of his favoritsm. he cares about you more than you actually think he does.

“i-i’m sorry, my lord,” you stutter. you really do not have a clue about what to say. all you can do is apologise as you’re left overthinking that one little sentence he said.

“what a brat,” sukuna quickly regains his usual stoic and stern composure. he reaches his chambers and enters his personal bathroom before putting you down on your feet. he looks down at your short stature, feeling the warmth of your body leave his skin once you’re separated.

sukuna watches you shiver. he wants to get angry at you for not telling him about anything that’s been going on while he’s not present, though he simply cannot at the moment.

he’ll let you off the hook for now. but, he’s surely going to give you your own special scolding after he’s taken care of the other concubines. the man grabs a large towel from nearby and messily wraps it around your upper body.

sukuna turns around to walk out of his bathroom, looking over his shoulder once more, “get dressed into something else before you catch a cold.”

he calls for a couple servants to tend to you while he’s away to take care of those deviant concubines. sukuna watches the three maids rush to your service, preparing you a new set of clothes as well as trying to dry you off.

his gaze lingers on you for more than is necessary, his jaw clenching at the sight of you trembling from the low temperatures you’re experiencing. sukuna’s going to make sure those other women pay for what they’ve done to you.

he leaves the bathroom after that, though not without leaving you an order to follow;

“you’re staying in my chambers tonight.”

[monzamash]

wouldn't dream of it lando norris x reader rating – 18+ (sex, coarse language, angst) requested by anon for monzamusings ✨

“What are you doing here, Lando?”

“I just needed to see you.”

Things had been good with Lando. You’d started dating a couple of months ago after being set up by a mutual friend who swore up and down that you were made for each other. And she was right for a time, over winter break when life was easy, no real responsibility or commitment needed to keep whatever it was between the two of you simmering away.

Fuelled by passion and lust with a dash of attachment. He was at your place every night nearly, besides Christmas day when you both agreed taking time away from family for a hook up was absurd. He was back in your bed the day after Boxing day, and working you over until New Years Eve, just the two of you tangled up in the sheets, closed off from the rest.

But then you flew to Monaco to see his world. Big mistake. 

It felt enormous. The constant attention and the anxiety, knowing that fans were sneakily taking photos at every opportunity, which always ended up on the silly gossip pages. And they were silly to begin with, salaciously lying about who you were and what you and Lando were until it got under you skin. Stomach churning.

There seemed to be a direct line of online hate funnelled your way and at first you promised Lando you could stomach it, until you couldn’t. It didn’t take long until reality seeped in, cold and harsh, tarnishing something that was so beautiful. It wasn't labelled but it could be in time, if his life was different – if he was a different person. 

Lando could feel you slipping away so he tried to bring you into his weird and wonderful world, to show you that it wasn’t so scary. But the more he introduced you to his "racing friends" and explained what a "paddock walk" was, the further you retreated and you knew a line needed to be drawn in the sand. Before it was too late.

Before it was too hard to let him go. 

It was callous in retrospect – a handwritten note left on his kitchen counter and slipping into an uber to Nice in the dead of the night. Cruel, really but necessary, you lied to yourself. Lando wanted to be surprised, he did. But everything you had written was true, he knew deep down that his life was fucking stressful, he didn't need reminding or how harsh people could be about the women involved with him and if it were anyone else, he would've slipped the letter in the rubbish bin and moved on.

But you were worth fighting for. And so here he was, on your doorstep in Shoreditch at 11pm on a Tuesday. It’s a wonder you answered the door but maybe there was a part of you that hoped it was him. Glassy eyed and dishevelled from the flight.

“I got your voicemails, I know where you stand but it doesn’t change anything.”

“Why didn’t you call me back?” Lando asked, the crease in his brow permanently furrowed in confusion.

“Because everything I needed to say was in the letter.” 

“What? This letter?” He scoffed, slipping his hand into his pocket and pulling out the piece of paper he had been carrying since the day you left. Battered and torn. 

“All this tells me is that you’re scared to let me in and fine! I get that but if theres even a tiny part of you that wants me –wants us to try and make it work, then tell me because I want this…” Lando stepped forward, making his intentions clear.

“I want you.” 

“It’s not that simple,” You sighed, hands instinctively reaching for him as he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you both inside. 

You wanted him more than anything.

“I know it’s not, baby,” He whispered back while you pushed the jacket he was wearing from his shoulders, “But we’re so good together… God, you’re beautiful.” 

Lando took a second to bathe in your beauty before tangling you in a fierce kiss, one that had you clutching his shirt even harder, dragging his pliant body towards your bedroom. He knew the way – every wall you came into contact with bringing you closer and closer to the edge of your bed, needy kisses between sharp inhales of breath. 

“I missed you so much, Lan.”

“Fuck, I’ve missed you more.” Lando whimpered as he hovered above and nestled himself between your thighs, hands roaming every inch of skin presented to him. 

The need to have him was bubbling over as you took him in your hand and guided him to where you needed, eyes squeezed shut as he fell forward, trembling arms holding up his aching body, “That’s so fucking good, baby – ugh, so tight f’me.”

You moaned in response as Lando slowly rocked forward, grappling with the surge of pleasure rushing to your core and the relief washing from your limbs. He was your missing puzzle piece and everything else was background noise, dulled when you had him like this – whimpering and moaning sweet nothings in your ear. Silver chains tangled between you as he pressed his greedy lips to your chest, leaving small bites as a reminder of his adoration and desire. 

“I need you, you know?” Lando purred into your ear as you held him close, fingers sprawled across his perspiring back as he fucked you deep, “These last couple of weeks have been hell without you… hated waking up alone and not having you beside me… not being able to hear your voice… I'm down so fucking bad.” 

His soft voice was breaking as the first droplets fell to your neck, “I know what it’s like now to lose you and I won’t ever take you for granted, I swear on my life…” 

Lando's sobs were quick to wrack his chest as you pulled him down, taking his full body weight in your embrace. He couldn't help but succumb to the emotions that had bottled up and finally spilled, every single worry dissipating as you held him close and soothed his tears with a soft hum. 

“Hey, it’s okay, baby – I’m here…” You cooed, brushing your fingers through his tousled curls and trying your hardest to keep it together. But you could feel the welling in your eyes, heartbroken for the man in your arms and the pain you had caused, no matter how much you believed you had done the right thing at the time.

“I know you’ve been dealing with so much and I never wanted to walk away – I just… I didn’t know what to do because I could feel myself falling for you but what I was too stupid to realise was that I was already in love with you – I think I have been since the moment we met…” 

Lando craned his neck, just enough to catch a glimpse of your beautiful eyes boring into his own – sincerity in every fleck. A small smile stretched across his face as he rested his forehead on yours, “I’m in love with you too. Have been since day one.” 

The smiles on your faces couldn’t have been any wider as Lando pressed a slow, sweet kiss to your pouting lips. You couldn’t help but giggle as he nuzzled into your neck, pressing kiss after kiss on your sensitive skin.

“You loooove me,” He sang, tickling your ribs with his eager hands before flipping onto his back and pulling you on top.  

“Oh, so I’m finishing us off, am I?”

“Yeah, I’m tired from the crying,” He shrugged and clutched your hips, playfully rutting them against his own. The moan that fell from your throat betrayed your mind, body and soul and Lando simply smirked, forever pleased with the effect he had on you. 

“If you weren’t so sexy I would leave you like this,” You teased back, rolling back and forth, edging both of you like a woman on a mission. 

“Please don’t ever leave me again,” Lando moaned, gripping tighter with every tantalising movement.

You shook your head and leaned down to press a soft kiss to his flushed cheek, “Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.”

a/n – did i keep it under 1k words? of course not lol but hope you enjoyed x more f1 writing awaits ...

[crxss01]

request ! 😌

i saw something about Mrs. Morales having a picture of Miles’ girlfriend in her wallet and i think it’s literally the cutest thing ever 😭😭😭 could you write some headcannons about Mrs. Morales absolutely loving Miles’ girlfriend? for both E-1610 Miles and E-42 Miles? thank you !!!

— Mama Love

pairing ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ 42!miles morales x fem!reader, 1610!miles morales x fem!reader

summary ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ tía morales really enjoys having you as her son’s girlfriend.

warnings ✧˖ ° fluff, cursing, tía morales offering to whoop miles’s ass for you.

m. list, main m. list.

translations ✧࿓☾ mi niña preciosa: my precious little girl, si la vuelves a lastimar te juro que—: if you hurt her again i swear that i’ll—, no la vuelvas a dejar plantada!: don’t you ever stand her up again, niño no hagas que te golpé: boy don’t make me whoop you.

a/n . . ◟੭ hey, sweet anon! i think i know what fic you’re talking about, but i don’t remember the author. i love tía morales, hope you enjoy!

42!miles morales

this boy does not play with his girl and mom so you better believe that he was so happy that his mom loved you so much.

at first he was worried that his mom wouldn’t accept you or get along with you because in that case he would’ve no choice but to break up with you in order to not make his mom uncomfortable.

she matters too much to him for him to just go and date someone she doesn’t approve of.

but his worries vanished the moment he saw the two of you in the kitchen after he had come from some prowler business and heard his mom talking about how beautiful you were and how you and miles complemented each other.

that was the first time you two had met and since then you were inseparable.

you were the it mom and future daughter-in-law duo.

many times you and tía morales were talking about him and she found absolutely adorable the way your eyes lid up when talking about her son

“mi niña preciosa,” she would sigh. “you and miles are made for each other.”

other times you would talk about the world of fashion and gossip about the women and men in the neighborhood.

one time tía morales argued with a woman after she had cursed at you, telling her about how she was too grown to be acting like that.

you two laughed about it later and she let you know that if you ever needed help from ladies who acted like children to just call her.

one time miles even complained about the amount of time his mother spent with his girlfriend and he got called selfish.

never complained to either of you again.

his uncle aaron once got to hear this complain and laughed at him telling him he’s a simp

miles got you and his mom matching neckless and you two absolutely loved them.

now, neither of you takes it off.

then he got jealous of that so he got you and him matching bracelets.

you have a picture of him and his mom as your homescreen and he got jealous because it used to be only him.

tía morales has you as her homescreen and everytime someone sees it she would tell them that you were her son’s girlfriend who was her niña preciosa.

you would come over even when miles was not there just to spend time with her.

she taught you how to cook many dishes puertorriqueños.

and if you didn’t speak spanish already, she would teach you many words.

would feel guilty when she said a bad word around you and you would repeat it.

“no, mi niña. don’t say that!”

miles always got an earful from his mom whenever he did something to you that she found out of line, like one time he yelled at you.

“si la vuelves a lastimar te juro que—”

yeah, he never yelled at you after that.

or like ever did anything that would hurt you.

miles might act like he didn’t like how close you and his mom were but he secretly loved that.

you and tía morales couldn’t care less if he liked your closeness or not.

1610!miles morales

now this one does love his mom but wouldn’t break up with you if you two didn’t get along.

but since day one you and tía morales got along right away.

it was like you were destined to be her daughter-in-law, like she would often say.

miles absolutely loved that and would often join both of you in your conversations and cooking lessons.

one time you were learning how to make patacón and miles was absolutely freaking out because he felt like you would get burned.

tía morales took him out of the kitchen, telling him that if he kept being in there with all that bad energy then you will end up burning yourself.

she taught you a lot of different recipes from her culture and if you are boricua then you would just make them together, since people use different seasonings for everything.

tía morales and you would walk around the neighborhood, talking about some lady from there who cheated on her husband and how he publicly humiliated her right in front of everyone.

one time miles stood you up for the fifth time and since you didn’t know he was spiderman, you just felt neglected by him for no reason.

his mom made sure to make things clear for him.

“no la vuelvas a dejar plantada!” the look she gave him was enough for him not to make his patrols around the same time as your dates.

he had to apologize with flowers and chocolates that his mom helped pick out for you, she also told him to give you some money.

after that you felt better and forgave miles, but not before thanking tía morales for talking to him.

tía morales and you went out a lot.

like going shopping,

buying ice cream,

going to restaurants where miles tagged along.

miles never felt jealousy of you spending time with his mom but he felt a little mad when he found out that he was no longer your homescreen wallpaper.

he was, but his mom was in the picture too so he got pouty.

he complained right there in front of his mom, acting like a damn child.

“niño, no hagas que te golpé.” tía morales had said, giving him a blank stare.

yeah, never complained again.

but you had to make him your perfile picture in every socia media or he will ignore you.

you made his mom your whatsapp perfile pic though, since she made you download it. (if you had it before then you just put it because you wanted to show off your bfs mother).

she had you as her homescreen and would feel so proud whenever someone called the girl in the picture gorgeous and would immediately say that it was her son’s gf.

in the end you and tía morales are besties.

taglist: @anikaluv @janaeby @queerponcho

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ reblogs are really appreciated!

[monster-disaster]

[monsters] Neighbors

Thoughts about living with monsters- You live in an apartment with monsters all around.

An orc family lives above you, and they’re the sweetest neighbors you’ve ever had. The wife loves inviting you over for coffee and a bit of gossip. Her stories fill the air with warmth as she pours your cup and chats about the neighborhood or shares a delicious new pastry she’s baked. Her husband? He’s a gentle giant, always ready to roll up his sleeves and help out around your small flat. Whether it’s fixing a leaky faucet or carrying heavy groceries up the stairs, he’s there before you even ask.

And then, there are the babies; two adorably chubby little ones with soft, green cheeks and big, curious eyes. You’ve become their go-to babysitter, which means plenty of afternoons filled with giggles and messy faces.

But when night falls, it’s a different story.

The ceiling might as well be paper-thin, with their gravelly voices and laughter rolling through the floorboards. Sometimes, those conversations turn into... well, more intimate moments and the babies aren’t just cute, they’ve got lungs that could rival any set of bagpipes. Their cries often jolt you awake in the middle of the night, heart racing.

Even with the sleepless nights, you never find it in yourself to complain, though. There’s a warmth to their noise, a liveliness that fills your small flat with a sense of family, even if it comes with a few sleep-deprived mornings.

Beneath you on the first floor lives a goblin who’s practically made it his life’s mission to comment on every noise you make. You do your best to avoid him, but it’s only a matter of time before you bump into him, leaning against his doorframe with arms crossed and an unimpressed scowl etched on his face.

He never misses an opportunity to complain.

“Your steps are like thunder up there. Ever heard of walking lightly?” he grumbles, or “How many times do I have to tell you? Lift the chairs, don’t drag them! Sounds like a damn avalanche down here!” And that’s not even the worst of it. The day he leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing as he muttered, “And for god’s sake, put a pillow over your face next time you play with your vibrating friend,” your face burned hotter than a forge. You were sure the ground might split open beneath you right then and there.

Since that conversation, you’ve found yourself tiptoeing around your flat, trying to keep your footsteps as light as possible, but even with your efforts, you know the next run-in with him is just around the corner, along with another list of grievances he’s been stewing over.

To your right lives a wolf-shifter, and for the most part, things between you are easygoing. He’s a quiet neighbor, the type who nods at you in the hallway and even offers a polite smile now and then. But his love life? That’s where the peace ends. His one-night stands, in particular, are the worst. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve had to comfort his partners the morning after, wiping away their tears when they realize that "just one night" really means just that. They always seem to hope for more, for something lasting, and it’s always you who ends up playing the sympathetic neighbor, nodding along as they pour out their hearts. Of course, it's your fault too. You should learn how to mind your own business instead of feeling sorry for crying women. And men.

And then there’s his rut. The first time you realized what was going on, you nearly dropped your coffee cup. The howls, the desperate growls, and the unmistakable... fervor of it all carried straight through the walls. After those nights, it’s impossible to even think about making eye contact with him. Weeks go by before you feel like you can look at him without your mind immediately replaying all the sounds you heard. And he, of course, acts like nothing happened.

To your left lives a succubus, and teasing you seems to be her favorite pastime. She’s always around when you come or go, somehow knowing exactly when to time her appearances. She leans casually against her doorframe, dressed in barely-there lingerie or a robe that hangs loose enough to leave little to the imagination, her lips curling into a knowing smile as she catches your eye. It’s impossible not to feel your cheeks heat up under her gaze, especially when she purrs a playful remark. Her eyes linger just a moment too long. And those paper-thin walls? They do nothing to block the sultry sounds she makes late into the night, sounds you’re sure are meant just for you.

You tell yourself you are holding your ground, that you won’t give in, but every sly comment she throws your way and every time she catches you with a flustered look makes you worry that it’s only a matter of time before you find yourself at her door, falling right into her trap.

Across the hall lives an elderly minotaur who, bless her heart, has made it her personal mission to match you up with one of her grandkids. No matter how busy you are, she has a sixth sense for catching you at the worst possible times. If you are running late for an appointment, she is suddenly in the hallway, eager to chat about her "really successful and recently divorced" grandson. Or maybe you’re lugging bags of groceries, arms aching under their weight, and just as you are almost to your door, she appears, excited to tell you that another one of her grandsons, who just came back from abroad, is finally ready to settle down. You try to smile and listen, nodding along as she goes on about their good jobs, kind hearts, and how they need someone like you in their lives. And of course, you don’t have the heart to cut her off, even when you’re in a rush or your arms feel like they might fall off from holding the bags. So, more often than not, you find yourself standing there, smiling politely and listening for far longer than you’d planned, as she talks on and on about her grandkids’ achievements while her eyes twinkle with hope.

“Y/N!” The goblin’s voice rings out just as you step into the elevator. Your name rolling off his tongue is already dripping with complaints. "I'm sorry!" You almost shout when you catch a glimpse of his frown while frantically jabbing the button for your floor. "Y/N!" As the elevator finally slips shut, cutting off his grumbling, the tension drains from your shoulders, but your relief is short-lived when you hear the familiar ding and the doors open. "Hey," the wolf-shifter greets you casually before taking your place in the metal box. You manage a stiff nod and a quiet "hey" while drifting your gaze to the floor, unable to hold his gaze for more than a second. When he disappears behind the thick doors, you let out a sigh and shift the bags in your arms as you fumble for your keys. Just as you manage to find them, the door in front of you swings open, and you force a smile as the elderly minotaur across the hall greets you warmly. “Hello, dear!” she beams. “Would you like to come in? My grandson, you know, the one I told you about, is visiting, and I thought you two should finally meet!” Your mouth opens, and your brain scrambles for a polite excuse, but before you can get a word out, her grandson appears behind her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Maybe next time, Nan,” he says with a smile, steering her back into the apartment. You share a moment of mutual understanding before the door clicks shut. Just as you breathe a sigh of relief, again, another door swings open, again, and you freeze, momentarily forgetting how to breathe. The succubus leans against her door, draped in dark purple lingerie that hugs her curves like a second skin. The bralette barely manages to contain her generous figure, and her sultry smile only deepens as she takes in your flustered expression. “Hello, Y/N,” she purrs. Your cheeks flare up, and you barely stammer out a weak “Not today!” as you nearly stumble into your apartment. You can hear her laughter echoing behind you, but your attention is quickly snatched by the buzzing of your phone. Your bags hit the floor with a heavy thud, and you cringe, fully aware the goblin will have a field day with this. You glance at your screen, catching a new message from your friend upstairs: The kids are with their dad. Fancy a coffee? How about you come down? you quickly reply, no way willing to risk leaving your apartment again today. Sure, comes the reply almost instantly. Did you hear about the party that harpy threw on the fourth floor? She drives me mad! No, you think, but leave the message unanswered. Of course, you didn’t hear about the party. How could you, with the orc babies wailing through most of the night?

[writella]

Reckless Romantics

Synopsis: Can be read as a stand alone or part two to getting ready for me; a return to innocent, inexperienced!reader and her relationship with Rick Grimes; two weeks after their first time together there has been some distance, but now Rick wants to make up for how hasty he was when he touched her last.

Details: Rick Grimes x fem!reader, smut: oral (f receiving) and teaching reader how to give a handjob, unspecified (of age) age gap, sweetness + kissing + a little mutual pining maybe, probably cliche, and leaning more into Rick as the dutiful leader and gentle lover (I feel this is just as in character as dom!Rick). Reader is a music lover— any kind of music you like— but she also likes a specific band only because I watched a documentary about them at the theater in July so it made its way into the story. Slightly proofread— will be corrected more later. wc: 5-7k (I lost track after finishing it on tumblr).

A/N: I wrote this message before I returned for the summer, but I still want you to read it: Been spending time outside this summer, trying to reach some goals— time got away from me. I don’t think I’ll ever stop saying I miss you, but please know it’s always true.

— with love from writella, my beautiful reader. ♡

Rick Grimes was not a man to give in to temptation.

My mercy prevails over my wrath, he’d say— his secret keepsake phrase. The one he whispers to himself in moments of hardship; the one he uses when he needs to make decisions only a leader would. Rick was a man of discipline; honor. He never boasted about how seriously he took these qualities, but when others did— admired, applauded, stuck by him for it— it would be a lie to say that he didn’t take note and use their pride to keep him going. This is how he knows he is strong-willed, why he wouldn’t fall for foolish, forbidden things. He was better than that. The safety and prosperity he brought to Alexandria proved it, reaffirmed it.

So why couldn’t someone remind him of that two weeks ago before he touched you?

As for you, you believed yourself to be a girl who wouldn’t fall so easily for the first man who showed you any kind of affection.

From an adolescence of peers who never seemed to take notice of you to one filled with walkers and adults who were either dead or seldom your age, you learned how hard love, let alone any connection, is to come by. It has made you quite the perpetual daydreamer because of it. One with a heart and mind filled with fantasy worlds, creating what you lacked externally. It often made you see yourself as much younger than you were despite all you’ve been through. No regular person your age in the old world has probably escaped as many deaths and wannabe cowboy dictators as you have. Still, they probably knew what it was like to have a high school romance, or at least go to the movies with friends, and have graduated from well, anything. You were simply born too late and shoved into this new world too early to experience even half of it.

This upbringing has brought you up to believe yourself precocious, although— maybe you were already too old for that word now. No, you were, so maybe– sensible, realistic despite the overactive imagination; you could decipher between right and wrong, real versus fake. This is why, for as long as you could, you did not entertain any thoughts of Rick Grimes.

Other people would though, women mostly. But you did have your suspicions of others who thought the same— they just weren't as shameless. Those who were, could be found during lunch breaks from work on house porches; or laughing and whispering at community gatherings and at the back of town hall meetings. Basically any time or place they could turn into a gossip session, which was often. And it didn’t always have to do with Rick. It could be about any one of the men in town; or retelling funny moments to their friends or complaining about their co-workers. But anything of true, great interest always had to do with the community leaders. You wish you could say you were the exception to this interest, but hypocritically, you loved a good inside scoop, and luckily for you, you had a trustworthy way about you. Almost everyone who spoke to you or allowed you to sit with them and their friends for meals agreed: you were a intent, quiet listener making you the best kind of person to say things to without judgment; and people assumed you as shy, yet you loved to laugh which was great for boosting egos. They often treated you as a little sister in that way, as if the pleasure was all yours to get to hear their ramblings because they were either older or perceived themselves to be more sociable and experienced than you. You tried not to care too much about what they took you for. It was nice to feel trusted, even if people could be a little too mean or weird for your liking because no matter who it was, they made you feel as if you were watching television, and you missed television. They told you things from period mishaps– (it’s the apocalypse, there are a lot of free bleeding queens okay)— to which people in their workstations annoyed them most with very detailed explanations as to why and, of course, rumors or general talk about the leaders: who they thought each of them has slept with, if there seemed to be any fighting between them and what side they were taking, and obviously, anything that had to do with one of the guys. Some were downright obvious that one or the other was their type, while others might try to be more sly about it, always bringing whichever man it was up more than the others. But unless they were diehard Daryl girls, wanted to dominate Glenn, or had some military man, hot priest, or doctor kink for Abraham, Gabriel, or Siddiq, most of them apparently felt that Rick was the love of their lives. He was like a local celebrity. A band’s frontman.

“So, what about you?” One of your scavenging partners asked on the ride home. “Which one do you like?”

“They’re all attractive guys,” you say, keeping your eyes on the road. “But I don’t really think about them like that.” You feel a flush coming on. Crushes, or anything romantic, is a part of your internal world, not something you discuss aloud.

“Come on,” she prods. “You never join in. You just laugh at us for being delusional.”

“Whose us?” Rosita asks, her voice sharp, humorous, and not without judgment. “I don’t talk about that shit.” But secretly, she loved the drama as much as you and would have many questions for you later tonight about why you have yet to tell her of the town obsession of treating her friends like the cast of a reality show.

“I don’t laugh at you! I like it when you guys talk about that stuff.”

“But what I’m saying is that I didn’t let you ride shotgun this time so you can hold out again,” the girl jokes half-heartedly.

“What do you mean this time? I get to ride shotgun because I’m the one with the CDs.”

And it’s true, the only thing that cancelled out the silence of drive in moments where conversation ceased was your Oasis album playing in the background. Learning about the band was your new obsession. Much like listening to the crazy imaginations of the girls in town, you found the Gallagher brother rivalry riveting even if you only knew pieces of the story from the music, scraps of magazine articles, and by asking whoever in town happened to be a teen in the 90s. Thankfully you had hit the jackpot today though. One of the houses you visited was once occupied by a dad and daughter with an insane music collection in the living room and a smaller, more curated one in the girl’s room. After gathering what new music you wanted to try from downstairs, you also found some old issues of QuizFest in the girl’s room, filled with activities that were themed with shows you remember from when you were a kid, but the most important discovery— the find of all finds— was one of those Ultimate Guide, Complete Life Story magazines of none other than the band Oasis.

You would now probably know all of the drama between the brothers to tell a coherent story about the band’s history to anyone who wanted an escape from walker related events and farming talk. When you weren’t listening, that’s what people would come to you for: to borrow music, get recommendations, or to tell them a story. In all, you were getting the reputation of being the town’s music historian, meaning you usually used your knowledge to avoid talking about yourself. And it mostly worked.

Except for now.

“Well, if I had to guess,” the girl persists despite your silence, “I think it would be Rick.”

“What?” Noticing the incredulity in your tone, you calm your voice. Shrugging you say, “Why Rick? Everyone likes him.”

Rosita sends a look your way. It’s innocent enough, probably just showing that she is still listening on as she drives but you were refusing to look at anyone now to know for sure.

“Exactly,” the girl says. “He’s a classic knight in shining armor type. I feel like he’d talk you through it, which I think would be good for— someone like you.”

Your face is on fire, you can’t even speak properly. “I- first of all, what do you know about my experience?” you ask, the incredulous tone returning. But all you get as an answer is knowing snorts and chortles from the two women. Ouch. Nonetheless, you continue, “Second, you think shooting a guy in the head in front of his wife and the whole town is chivalrous?”

Oh—

That makes car goes quiet.

You know you made a mistake.

You didn’t mean it as crassly as you said it, and you did feel bad for saying it knowing that the situation was more difficult than you summed it up to be, but you didn’t apologize. All this talk about crushes and especially Rick made you embarrassed. It’s not that you didn't see what others saw anyway. Of course you noticed how nice Rick’s curls are, how he doesn’t have to use any product for them to look as they do; or those blue eyes and how when you get closer, they become that much more stark and crisp; or how good he was at talking to people, convincing them of things or simply just reassuring them as a friend; and that southern drawl that still sometimes catches you by surprise by sounding so pronounced at the end of certain words, making his voice that much more intoxicating. Of course you saw the appeal, but that didn’t mean you had a crush on him.

Right?

Maybe it doesn’t matter. You just felt you knew better. He was like a president. You know of them, and you believe in them, but you don’t get close to them. And it didn’t matter that he told Carl to personally deliver you a stereo he and Daryl found while out once. How he remembered how you liked music. How he told Carl to tell you this one was probably better than the old one you had, that it was louder. You only showed him your old stereo that once when he was helping you move. He was just a perceptive guy with a good memory. All leaders are like that.

Right?

Anyway, let’s get back to your crass… joke.

“Hilarious.” Rosita says and you hear the low contempt in her voice at your insensitivity.

“That was ages ago though,” the girl chimes in, saving you just a little, “and he did it to help her. He didn’t care about the mess he made. He save her. I’d say that’s pretty romantic.”

“Let’s not call that romantic,” Rosita scoffs, and despite the slight frustration, there was a quiet sadness in her voice at the memory. “That wasn’t love.”

“That was reckless, not romantic.” You agree. Partly because you truly do, but also in attempt to win back favor from your friend. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

But after that day, it was all you could think about.

The idea of a knight; a romantic; someone that would do anything for you, ruin his reputation for you; find gifts from the outside that he’d send is son to give to you. Maybe you did find it charming, idyllic.

These thoughts soared in your mind so much so that on one night when thinking about boys from books or your favorite artists wasn't enough during moments under your sheets when your back arched and your fingers trailed up your thighs, your mind switched from people you would never meet to him, to Rick. Your eyes scrunched tighter, and you tried to shake it away, telling yourself it was just the women in town and the talk in the car getting to you. But then you thought about how rich and hot pink his lips looked on a bright sun-burning day and how it would feel like flames firing inside of you if he kissed you with them.

Ideas like these went on for nearly a year now. You even started questioned if maybe you had always liked him, maybe you were always just like the other girls even though tried to not be. You had thought it made you respectful, realistic; after all, how could Rick be the love of your life if he was everyone’s? Wonderings like this became even worse and more confusing when Rosita had asked if you’d like to move in with her. Becoming closer with her meant being around the leaders more often, which meant coincidental encounters and conversations with Rick as well. Quickly, he wasn’t just that president or celebrity anymore who talked to you sometimes and got you that stereo that once. He was becoming a peer— at least in some ways. One who was curious about your interests as much as your opinions. But it’s not exactly like you were in the in-crowd now as some people assumed. You didn’t get to go to leader meetings, and as much as you knew Rosita must have been telling you more than others know, she couldn’t have been telling you everything. But you did see him more than other people now, when he and the leaders came over to the house or when Rosita was invited over to theirs and she’s tell you to come too. And now, with these thoughts spiraling, you can’t help but to look back at the at the times where Rick approached you, gave you all his attention no matter how small it was and asked you about what you were listening to or reading that week, letting you ramble. He was an older guy, yes, but he cared, he actually listened, and he didn’t make you feel like the childish little sister others do.

Sadly, you did become the fawn like you had told yourself you wouldn’t be. But you couldn’t stop picturing him when you closed your eyes, and in fact, it was nice to imagine someone to fall asleep with, to wake up to. It was just going be your secret. Part of your fantasy world. But then— it all caught up to you.

Through the sliver of the open door he saw you, fingers between folds, goading yourself on as you chanted his name in whispers.

And to your surprise, he encouraged it. No, he did so much more than that— he helped you, made you come; gave you your first orgasm and made you his like no one has before.

You loved it. You gave into it. Even if it was just one secret moment. It made you give into the idea that this would continue but of course, it didn’t. He hasn’t spoken to you in almost three weeks until—

“Woah-” you gasp, almost crashing into just the person as you exit your room.

“Sorry,” you both say in unison, holding onto each other's forearms before quickly letting go. Your arms cross over into your chest before dropping as you enter your room again, clearing the hallway, and his hands go behind his back. He’s still as unsteady as you are, his mouth is slightly open, thinking of what to say.

“Hi,” you whisper tentatively.

“Good morning,” he politely replies. His eyes now smile slightly as he nods to you. You don’t miss how the light emanating from your bright room makes them shine. And he doesn’t miss how the light shining behind your figure makes you, in your white cotton sundress, look like an absolute angel.

“Good morning,” you repeat, giggling slightly, not knowing what else to say.

“Good morning,” he says again, lost and as giddy as you are.

“Oh wait— is the leader’s meeting here today?” Rick starts to nod and answers yes as you continue to speak, “I totally forgot! I’m sorry. I know I should be gone by now.”

He shakes his head, “It’s fine. I was just going to the bathroom.”

“Here? Was someone in the one downstairs?”

“Just wanted to be away from everyone when they came. Daryl and I came early so we started talking and I just- we didn’t see eye to eye on something. I needed a minute.”

You nod. That seems to be your signature when to talk to him. You hated it honestly. Often over-analyzing your words, worrying you’ll sound immature or stutter in front of him. “I'm sorry,” you tell him sympathetically. For a moment there is only silence which makes you worry he will go away, so without thinking, you ask: “I know you’re busy but, if you need a moment, maybe you would like to come in here instead?”

Rick freezes but then, inevitably agrees. As he enters, you close the door and quickly go to shut off the low playing stereo and rehang some of the dresses on your chair in the closet— you had been getting ready for the day. Rick goes to sit on the chair after you empty it but you stop him. You sit on the vertical side of your bed and guesture Rick to sit in the spot next to you, closer to the headboard. You wanted to sit next to him.

Rick doesn’t question this, maybe he wanted to be as close to you as you had, so as he sits, your thighs touch. You try not to move too much at the first contact. Still, the heat that starts to burn inside you makes you realize how much you’ve craved this. Can two weeks feel like a lifetime? It’s like you haven’t felt him in ages.

“What were you playing today?” He asks and you realize you eyes went straight to the area where yours and Rick’s legs touched. You know he noticed but still you try to answer normally.

“Selena. Rosita loves her. It’s one of her most famous songs: Amor Prohibido.”

He nods. “I probably wouldn’t understand a bit of it,” he laughs.

He would probably remember the singer from the news if you gave more context but you don’t. There is a silence that follows until you ask, “So,” starting slowly, “what’s wrong? Is Daryl aright?”

He doesn’t answer. His mouth is open as if he’s deciding what to say, but nothing comes out, so you continue, “You know, nothing is ever right in the world when Rick and Daryl fight. It makes me sad.”

The joke makes those lines at the sides of his eyes appear— a quiet laugh. “Well you know I’d never want to make you sad. Especially not you.” You two exchange a light smile while that heat rises fast to your heart. “We’ll be fine,” he finally says, but then he goes quiet again. Rick seems unsure if he wants to continue. He even looks at the door, wonders if the others have shown up yet, but— he knows he doesn’t want to leave. And even more, he knows he shouldn’t after ignoring you like some teenage boy. He decides to tell you what’s happening: “Daryl wants us to bring new people in. You know how he’s always going out there. But I think it’s way too soon.”

You hum agreeingly, but at the same time, you understand Daryl. “I think he just likes to give people what he never used to have,” you suggest.

“I know,” he nods a bit annoyedly; “and that’s a nice way to put it, but you know him, when he has his mind set on somethin’ he can be so damn stubborn. It’s frustrating. He won’t compromise or listen to anything.”

Endearingly, you try to withhold a laugh, your lisp pursing. Not only because when he says anything, it actually sounds like anythang, but because Rick sounds like he’s describing himself and he doesn’t even realize it.

“And,” he adds, pausing for a moment before he continues, scratching his beard. It looks as if maybe he shouldn’t tell you what he’s about to. His head hangs low to say: This is not information for everyone to know, okay? But the last time he went out there with Glenn, the reason Glenn’s arm is in a sling right now, is because they met a group, tried to bring them back and before they could make it even close to home, the group fought ‘em, tried to steal what they scavenged, and almost kill Glenn.”

You widen your eyes at the statement. You actually already knew this from Rosita, but that will stay between you two. All you feel is humbled that he felt he share it with you, despite it being a dark thing. It was a close call. Rick was right for being very cautious right now. “Wow,” is all you can get in before he speaks again.

“Imagine if we lost him. Fought this war with his wife and unborn baby at the time for nothing? So he couldn’t even meet him?” Rick shakes his head, and you notice his foot tapping lightly, making his knee bounce. This had happened a month ago now but it was obviously affecting him. “It was reckless and I told him that. That right now we need to be focusing on what’s inside these walls. People have only just started getting back to being comfortable now; to feeling like this is a home.”

Your eyes remain wide, “We did so much rebuilding you.”

“We did complete rebuilding.” He corrects, though not rudely. Shaking his head, he goes back to talking about Daryl: “I think I made it seem like what happened to Glenn was his fault. So not only were we arguing but I must’ve hurt him,” Rick realizes, “and now he definitely won’t be back today— maybe not even until next week.”

A silence hangs in the air after this; it seems he finished. Now, you know you should speak, but as the silence continues, you grow more unsure of what to say. Issues like these are things you’ve never dealt with. You didn’t want to say something stereotypical.

“I’m sorry I’m putting all this on you.”

“No, no,” you quickly console, trying to think. “Um, well,” you say, starting unsteadily, “this is probably going to sound stupid and not helpful. I don’t even remember the exact context or what was truly said so it might not make any sense either but, do you remember when I had my Oasis obsession? Earlier this year?”

“I do,” he laughs, turning his head over to your music table. His eyes scan any of the visible album titles to see if he can find it, but the print on most of them are too small. He turns back to you as you continue:

“This is going to sound a little far off but I think you and Daryl are like Liam and Noel.”

His eyebrows furrow, “Didn’t those two hate each other?”

“I mean, yes— but it’s much more complicated than that to me— but no, I don’t mean in that way. It just that there is this quote Noel says that I don’t remember exactly, but I really liked: he said that even though he wrote the music and Liam did the singing that Liam meant the words just as much as Noel did because they’re brothers and he wrote them. I thought that was beautiful, but…” you trail off.

He stays silent, trying to give you space to find your words but you feel like you’ve gone too far. It’s all pretty convoluted and not a true comparison to what’s going on that you’re even confusing yourself a little. “I think what I mean is that even though they have their different roles, they still feel very similar things and believe in the same purpose. I think that’s like you and Daryl. You two are so similar yet so different. But there’s still a binding force that always brings the two of you together. So, like I’m sure you already know and I didn’t even need to tell you, but you two will be okay. You two have different ways of doing things, but the music or the life you’re trying to create in Alexandria still has the same meaning to the both of you.” You laugh small and breathily as you end. “That probably didn’t make sense.”

Rick smiles to himself. “I didn’t get that first bit, with the quote, but no… that made a lot of sense to me.” He nods toward you and you return his smile. “You’re so bright. You know that? Not everyone knows how to stitch things together like that the way you do.”

This makes you feel good. Rick thought you were smart. You know you should say thank you, but instead, something else comes out: “May I, may I kiss you?”

“Yes,” he answers, almost stuttering it out, a hint of hesitation before he did, but he nods so kindly, so reassuringly as he tells you again: “yes.”

Your fingers touch his lower cheeks lightly, feeling the bristles of his beard. You’re slow, and careful, and scared. Your fingers linger on his jaw for a moment until they completely caress his right cheek and then you move in, swiftly— worried you’ll lose your confidence, worried he’ll change his mind. You catch his lower lip and seal the kiss. Your lips are locked for a few seconds until you retreat. It was nice, and exciting, but short. You knew you could have put your tongue in his mouth. You believe he would have let you because you remember when he did it last time, but you didn’t want to embarrass yourself by doing it wrong and once again reminding him how much you don’t know. But you’re sure giving him a grade school kiss like this one was enough of a reminder.

Your eyes roll down, chin low. Your cheeks are on fire and your hands do not know where to go so you start fiddling with the hem of your dress and then you laugh. You were trying to be courageous this time, and you were, but you also weren’t.

Rick grabs your left hand, holding it at the end of your thigh, “I liked that,” he says softly.

“You did?” You ask as softly as he, eyes meeting his.

A short, airy snicker comes out, “Mhm,” he hums, giving you a closed-mouth smile. He found you simply adorable.

“Can I… try it again?”

Rick pulls on your forearm, attempting to bring you closer to him. “Yeah,” he nods, voice gentle. “Do you want me to help?”

You nod before you speak, happily accepting, “Yes.”

He puts your hands on his shoulders. One of his grabs onto your waist and the other holds you lightly under your chin, adjusting your head to meet his lips. The first kiss he places holds just for a couple of moments as the one you gave him did, gentle but packed with longing. The next two are slow, pretty pecks that already have you melting at his touch, lips agape waiting for the next one. The fourth is the one where he brings his tongue into your mouth, carefully bringing it in quarter by quarter. He tastes the top of your mouth and tongue and you feel him as he slowly starts to explore how far you may like to go, but truly you become stagnant other than your hands that press into his shoulder. Luckily, Rick either doesn’t notice your hesitation or is already silently helping you as he takes the lead, pulling you closer by the hips and slipping his tongue in and out of your mouth to kiss you more. It makes you smile— the excitement of your first make-out session. You giggle, and then it makes him smile too and your teeth slightly bump into each other. Accidently you nip his lip because of it, making you pull back.

Your fingers hover over your lips as you impart a quiet apology but Rick just shakes his head giving you another quick kiss instead. He starts to move back on your bed, back pressed again the headboard and he tells you quietly, “Come here.”

You get up and sit higher up on the bed as well, calves folded under your thighs. He takes one of your legs and starts to put it over his as he asks, “Is this okay?”

You nod, vigor growing as you do it now, thrilled to sit on his lap. Your dress bunches around your hips and the tops of your thighs. You move closer to press your chest into his and you kiss him first again, another small one but with intent as you look at him afterward, feeling the scratch of his beard on your fingertips as you smile at him, in awe that this is happening.

“You want to try this time?”

“Uh,” he means you put your tongue in his mouth this time, but you’re afraid to do it wrong but you know you want to say yes so you do, “Yes, okay.”

So he brings you in again and you kiss him. He mouth opens a little and you try to bring your tongue in slightly but you teeth clash. “Sorry,” and quickly he responds that it’s okay and rubs your cheek, telling you to just open your mouth a little wider, no teeth, let your tongue go on top of his.

You try it. Your tongues meet again, licking each other tips before you slowing press in more, your chest touching his as you try to close the gap.

Rick starts slowly rocking your hips against his and he takes control of the kiss again. It helps you not think, you like it. And you like the feeling of that incoming tight bulge starting to form under his jeans, but then you let go. “Wait,” you say, “I like this.” You pause for a moment, confusing him more as to why you stopped. “But… there is something I wanted to ask you.”

“Okay,” his hand stay fixed on your hips and waist, rubbing soothily, “What it is?”

Another pause. “I feel nervous,” you whisper.

“You have no reason to be, sweetheart. You can ask me anything.”

You laugh, smiling as you look off to the side. Anythang.

He smiles too, although unknowingly to what you found funny. His head tilts as he tries to find your gaze and turn it towards him again.

“Well, the last time we were together here you taught me how to do something. You taught me how to pleasure myself better so,” you stutter, “I want to pleasure you. If that’s okay. And I was wondering if you’d teach me how- to touch you here.” You remove yourself from straddling him and point in the direction of his cock.

Instantly he feels a stir of his already hardening dick.

This is not how he expected things to go this time. Or truly, he didn’t expect any of this at all, but when you asked to kiss him he decided he would be gentle, more giving. It felt like you wanted him to take again, the exact thing he was trying not to do. “I feel like I took advantage of you last time.”

“Rick…” you shake your head. “I’m the one who didn’t close the door all the way. You asked if it was okay and then you asked if you could go faster. I said yes to everything…” You start to worry— is he second guessing everything now?—“I feel maybe we remember this differently.” You bow your head again now. Feeling ashamed, wondering if he did.

Rick places one hand on your knee to comfort you although he still says, “It’s just that I’ve never done something like this before.” His thumb sways on your skin. “I just don’t want you to end up feeling like you’re wasting your time. Your first times.”

You’re surprised, “It’s so funny how you can be so self-assured in front of a crowd and now you don’t think you’re good enough.” You take his hand and press it towards your chest. Your heart was racing. “I like you. So much.” You swallow as he says your name softly, realizing how fast your heart was going. “No one in town is truly ever mean to me or anything, and Rosita has been so kind with letting me move in with her and we talk and its nice but, you know— she has her flings and her friendships that are separate from mine and everyone just always seems like they have their person and I just don’t. I don’t have my person, or any person.” You remove your hands from your chest but Rick still holds onto it, squeezing your hand as you start speaking again. “You’re kind, Rick, and you make me excited, and you remember things about me… “ If your face could get any hotter, it does, “And, well, you’re very handsome. If you could teach me again, I would like that.”

God… Rick was trying to be a romantic yet you were so adamant on getting him off. He laughed inwardly, shaking his head, deciding that the best way to handle this situation— and make up for some of his guilt as he was trying to— would be to give you the thing you say you want and not what he thinks you want. Suppose that’s one for widower’s wisdom.

Decidedly, Rick gets up from the bed, giving you a once over, still admiring how adorable, and how sexy, you look to him with your feet under your lap, hands on your knees as you look up at him from the bed and your white dress. He starts undoing his shirt buttons. “Remember when I did this the first time?”

A smirk came on, there’s the Rick you remember. Blue eyes intense, and voice getting cocky as he gets ready to give you what you need, what he knows you only want from him.

“Yes,” you say quiet yet with budding excitement. You start going for the hem of your dress, “Should I start taking this off too?”

“Mm, stay like that.” He’s taking off his belt. “Thought you looked beautiful in it right when I saw you.”

Your thighs squeeze together slightly. Rick Grimes was undressing before you, for you, and calling you smart and beautiful all the while.

As Rick lowers his boxers, his cock springs up. He returns to his spot on the bed, back leaning against the headboard. All of a sudden he seems to truly recognize that he is the only one exposed. He would tell you what to do, guide you, but in a small way, in a way you probably didn’t realize, you were in control. It seems that each time this happens— although it’s only been twice— and each time he talks to you— which has been plenty— you steal a little more of Rick’s heart and he just can’t stop it.

“So,” he clears his throat, your eager eyes on his cock making him twitch, “you usually just wrap your hand around, start from the base and keep pumping up.” He shakes his head, “there’s not too much too it but it’s best to keep your hand light at the start, you—”

You nod quickly, “May I?”

As he nods back you, “Yes.” And as he says it you’re already licking your hand.

“Is it okay if I spit? That helps right? Or is that nasty to you?”

He’s caught off guard, “No, no, that helps.”

So you do and you place your hand lightly at the base as he said and you start to pump. Instantly, he lets out a gasp, and the next noises that follow are repressed grunts and groans. You want to ask him to stop doing that but you’re a little scared to speak up that way just yet and you’re too engrossed in how you can see the light veins of green and blue on him and how he’s so red at the tip. It was honestly exciting. Just this, touching him with your hand, staring at his member and watching him twitch as his mouth opens to pant lightly. It still felt unreal but you liked it and you were happy to learn. You start to pump him more towards the top, placing your thumb on his slit- pressing in. His abs clench at that. You push in a little harder and you squeeze your fist around him a little— testing it out to see what happens—and he groans, unadulterated this time, “oh, fuck.”

The heel of your foot that’s under your lap pushes into your center at that.

You start pumping faster. “Am I doing good, Rick?”

Hearing your voice sets him off, “Fuck, sweetheart. Yes.” He’s honestly choking out each of his words, he didn’t expect to get so turned on by all of this. He realizes the last time he had sex was with you that first time, and before that… he can’t even remember. “You’re doing an amazing job.”

As you pump, you start to slow down, only doing it shallowly towards his base. You’re feeling confident and you kiss the side of him, licking a fat stripe up to the top and then you pump him fully again.

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” he breathes out. He wants to tell you to slow down but it comes out of nowhere, he stutters before he can even speak. An unintelligible groan mixed with a moan comes out abrupt and louder than he intends and white spurts of liquid come out.

You go faster for a few moments, then start to slow down, a little unsure of what is best to do, but you notice when you start squeezing him a little more as you continue to pump up and more whiteness fall out from inside of him.

“Did I, make you come?”

“Yeah,” he says, huffing.

“I did?” your cheekbones rise as you ask with awe— it was another first for the books.

Rick’s tries to let his embarrassment fade, he can tell you were just excited about it, but still, he looks down and to the side, avoiding direct eye contact— almost like you typically would. You peer at him, almost nervously because of it. Rick is usually the confident one. “Doesn’t always happen that fast,” he explains.

“Well before a month ago I didn’t know how to make myself come so I wouldn’t know,” you say with self-deprecating assurance. You had heard from the girls in town that it was easier to make men orgasm. You already had it in your head as something not to judge. You wonder how hard he must have been restraining himself the first time he placed himself inside you, or if it just happened to be easier for him that time around. “I didn’t expect I could do it or anything really. I thought it was…” you smile while giggling, “interesting.”

“A good interesting I hope.”

“Very,” you assure. “I liked it.” You kiss his cheek as you take some wipes that are by your night stand and you start cleaning him up. He doesn’t tell you that you don’t have to; he helps along with you.

“You sure you’ve never done any of this before?”

You shake your head. “I just read fiction books.”

He smiles to himself, a quiet snort of laughter leaving his nose. You always surprise him.

When you two are done cleaning, he puts his boxers back on. Quickly, he is on the bed again and starts to kissing you. Rick holds your shoulder and pushes you down. Finally, it’s time for his redemption, he feels. It was your turn to be pleasured. Just like he wanted to do from the beginning.

Rick kisses down your neck to your collarbone, and the parts of your exposed chest and he pushes your dress up past your hips. His lips move back up to yours, kissing you more before saying, “I really wanna show you something sweetheart.” He presses his thumb into your clit over your underwear. “Can I kiss you down there? Have you ever had that before?”

You shake your head slowly, eyes wide. “I-” you start nodding your head, “-I would really like that.” And in such a small voice you add, “Please.”

Rick kisses your cheek. Deep and softly he breathlessly tells you, “I would love to.”

Rick moves his head lower and gives you slow kisses over your underwear from your mound to the end of your lips. He starts to drag your panties over your legs and once they’re gone he kisses up your thighs. Then his nose rubs and sways ever so lightly on your lips. He breathes in and it makes you shutter. Your heart is going crazy again. Finally, he licks upward. One long and languid stripe ending with a kiss to your clit and then he truly begins.

Tongues are wet and sticky and everything you ever dreamed of. Your eyes roll back instantly from that first lick and kiss. You remember a time when you started touching yourself that you used to never think of receiving oral. You thought it was scary, nasty, that you wouldn’t like it until the moment you thought about it as a million kisses on your most sensitive lips, or someone liking you so much that they’d get drenched by your wetness just to touch you, to taste you. After that, you thought about it all the time and now it was finally happening– someone needing you so much they just had to know what you taste like. Here he was: kissing, licking, sucking, not caring about how he looks but only how you feel— you now knew what it was like to be desired.

Rick presses his tongue flat on your clit, rubbing deep circles. His eyes are open, looking up at how your mouth opens wider and wider. You let out little whimpers, enamored by his tongue, still deciding if you like the scratch of his beard, but your eyes stay glued to the ceiling, scared to look at the scene below.

He gives you kitten licks in between speaking, “Look down. Don’t miss your first time.”

Your eyes go down slowly, watching as he gives open mouth kisses to your clit and right lip, tilting his head. He stays there for a moment, hearing your short and breathy pants, kissing and licking your clit and lower lips like they were the ones above your chin. His eye contact sends bursts of sticky wet fluid down your hole and you release a whimpered moan, they’re always sp short and soft and high pitched. He can tell you like it but he can also see you’re nervous. You don’t trust yourself, you know it, and he’s starting to realize it too. You’re scared of completely letting go.

He peppers kisses to your clit before moving upward, his tongue rolling and mouth kissing from your lower stomach to your breasts till his face reaches yours again. “No one’s here,” he tells you. He then kisses your lips allowing you to taste yourself for the first time. “Relax,” he whispers, rolling out each syllable. He holds your chin with one hand while he inserts a finger into your hole with the other, his pointer is instantly drenched and you shudder at the feeling. His single calloused finger reminds you of the time he was last inside you. He pumps slowly, looking into your eyes as he speaks, “Don’t think about who could come downstairs.”

“What if Rosita or Daryl come back?”

“What if?” He says it so simply as if he’s ready for everyone to know. Truly, that would be an issue, but right now it was not about him and it was completely about you; he wanted to give. It was short-sighted, reckless, yes, but… you were just so pretty, so bright, so insightful, and he felt like he needed to make up for all the taking he did last time, of your first time. Rosita had went to run after Daryl, hopefully no one was here anyway. But again, he didn’t care. It didn’t matter. “Lay back,” he gently commands, “forget what I said before- close your eyes. Just give in to it. Like I’m the only one who's here.”

Rick licks zig zag stripes down your slit and then he decides to insert his tongue in your hole. He goes as deep as his tongue allows, collecting your wetness and trying to swallow it in moments when he turns back to kissing. He his nose is brushing and rubbing up against your clit as he sucks wetness from down below and you start letting out stringy moans you can’t control. Soft, pretty, and continuous, “uh, ah, uh, uh” that turn into “sorry, I’m sorry.” You’re still self-conscious about your own noises. This was still only the second time you’ve heard the sounds you make when someone else is fucking you.

But Rick shushes you. Giving small kisses to your clit as he looks up at you, seeing your scrunched eyes and open mouth. “I like knowing you like it, pretty girl. I like all those pretty sounds you’re making.”

Your pussy tightens around nothing at that phrase.

“Keep going. You don’t have to be shy.” He grabs your chin and you look down at him. His beard is wet. “We’ve already made a mess anyway.”

He starts kissing your labias, licking up wetness when you decide to ask, nervously, “Can you make sounds too?”

Instantly, Rick goes again to kiss your clit, humming into it as he sucks. Breathing against you he says, “Want me to tell you I like it, sweetheart?” His tongue slides down again, tongue reaching into your hole and he moans into your pussy.

Your back arches and you mewl, you could almost scream.

That’s it, he thinks. Rick keeps humming and groaning into you now. His voice is so seductive. “I love tasting your pussy, baby.”

You couldn’t breathe.

Rick starts rubbing your clit with his thumb and going fast with his tongue in your hole “My bright, pretty girl gonna come for me? Hm?”

“Oh, Rick, I want to. Please, Rick.”

Rick starts to go faster and your brain turns to mush. Only noises coming out and when he stops his tongue movements to say something more you push his head down. “Sorry,” you say. You’ve never been forceful before but he says nothing, just continues going down on you and taking his free hand to place it over his, gesturing that he wants your hands in his hair. You tug on his curls and he grunts into you. You start chanting his name and then he switches to placing his lips on your clit and putting two fingers in your pussy. It reminded you of the first time but instead of your three fingers they were two of his and it felt so much better than you ever knew before, better than you could ever do it yourself. It sets you off. Your eyes shut tighter if they could. “Rick! Oh my god,” you moan and then again and again and then you come.

Rick laps at your cunt, vigorously trying to wipe you clean. He makes it look like it will be the last and only time. It makes you worry but at the same time he looks so sexy like that; needy for you even after you finished.

He takes your wipes and cleans his lips before cleaning you up as you did for him. He kisses you thighs and your lips and your cheeks as he continues. “You did such a good job,” he says. “You always do.”

You’re filled with pride at that. “Thank you.” Then worry sets in. You realize how public you’ve made everything. “Did I just ruin your life?”

He laughs while caressing your thigh. That anxious expression of yours that he just got rid of returns after all the work he did.

“I’m gonna check downstairs. Okay? If they’re there, they’re there.” You nod. We already made a mess anyway, you remember him saying. “They might want to start the meeting when I go down so, whatever happens, happens alright? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Your eyes are still nervous, but it’s all too late anyway. “Okay,” you respond.

“Okay,” he says back, kissing you once more. As he dresses himself again, he tells you, “I promise I won’t wait two weeks to see you again.”

“I’d like that.”

“Me too,” he says as a send off and goes into the bathroom to clean his face.

When he reaches the living room, there is no one. Rick is thankful but confused.

As he nears the coffee table there is a sheet of yellow lined legal pad with a talkie next to it.

Call when you’re done, it reads.

“Rosita?” He questions into the device. Who else could it have been, right?

He can almost hear the grin on her face. “They should start calling you Reckless Rick for all the agony you put these Alexandria girls through.” She pauses for dramatic effect. “There’s just something about that stupid hair cowboy accent, I guess.”

Before he can respond, telling her that it’s absurd to think of him as a playboy, that he was far from it, she continues:

“So, fucking my roommate? You’re glad Glenn and Maggie called everyone over to theirs instead. Hershel took his first steps while you were teaching someone else how to take theirs.”

She unpressed the button to suppress her laughter. “Just get over here,” she concludes, putting down the walkie and going back to meet the rest of the group with a perfect poker face. She tells everyone Rick will be here shortly.

Oh, Alexandria’s leader and her new little best friend who has been hearing the townswomen’s fantasies of him for years: Reckless Rick and his reckless romantic girl.

Rosita would give you so much shit for this when she gets home.

[greenpurplemylove]

Blue Light (PJS)🛁

→ masterlist; part 2.

→ pairings: non idol!jay x female!reader

→ synopsis: you wanted your friend Jay as a hype man before your blind date, but what you didn’t expect was for him to reciprocate feelings for you.

→ genre: kinda smut(?) hella suggestive. so minors, y'all can just scroll pass this one😁

-> now playing: I'm Sorry We Lied, Blood Orange.

→ warnings: swearing, suggestive, making out, dirty thoughts, he gropes your tits, small mentions of masturbation and sex, possible grammatical errors, lemme know if I missed anything else! not proofread!

→ A/N: I fr made this fanfic while putting on champagne coast on loop. anyways, romance untold is such a good album fr, might be my favorite era of enha.

→ word count: 6,1k

You never really knew why you invited Jay over before your blind date.

For emotional support? Sure, yeah, definitely, but you knew there was more to it than that.

You’ve had a crush on him ever since the beginning of your friendship, there were times where you’ve tried to pursue him, but at one point you realized that maybe he only saw you as a friend, so you reluctantly gave up on that fantasy overtime.

That is until you realized that lately, there has been some semi-romantic tension between the both of you.

From catching him staring at you during the times where you hung out with your group of friends to how he would glance at you ever so often when girls would flirt with him in front of you.

At times you didn’t mind and you just gave him a teasing smile, but sometimes he’d look at you so longingly that the girl he was flirting with couldn’t help but feel offended.

The ones that no longer wanted to pursue him, started talking behind your friend group about how they think Jay has feelings for you.

The ones that still did pursue him, rolled their eyes at the mention of your name.

Initially you couldn’t help but be in denial.

Because for as long as you’ve known him, he’s always just been so casual and friendly towards you. He’d treat you like any other friend all this time, so why now? Why such gossip started spreading around now?

Although, you do recall that for the past couple of months you’ve been closer than ever. So much so that it didn’t feel like you were talking to him in a friendly manner lately.

Least to say, your relationship with him now is as complicated as ever.

So, here he was right here and now, in your apartment, leaning over your couch as he started reading one of the books he randomly picked up from your book shelves.

The tight shirt and black leather jacket he was wearing bubbled up new and old feelings.

You purposefully invited Jay over because you wanted to show him what you were going to wear to your blind date, tell him where you’re going, and what you’re going to do if the date goes well.

You wanted to see how he’d react.

You wanted to see if he’d get jealous or not.

“I didn’t know you liked Oasis” he observed the cover of the album as he read through the track list, interrupting your thoughts.

“uhm, yeah, my dad bought me that” you shook your head pointing at the vinyl he was holding, he raised his eyebrows pouting his lips before putting it back on the shelves.

“Anyways” you interrupted making him turn around to look at you still in your sweatpants and blue shirt.

“I need your help” you stated putting your hands on your hips.

“I know, you texted me about it” he replied nonchalantly,

“what do you need my help with?” he offered as he stood up, taking off his jacket and putting it on your jacket stand. His toned arm muscles made your heart run laps all over your body.

“I need your help picking out my outfit” you replied your eyes shifting back to look at his face, in hopes that your eyes don’t drift to his arms again.

“That’s it?” he raised his eyebrows at you.

“Well no, I also need some dating advice, knowing you get around” your comment made him snarky, he didn’t remember dating that much women in his life to make you fell under the impression that he was promiscuous.

“I don’t get around y/n, I’ve never even dated that many people” he crossed his arms smirking at you as he leaned against the partition wall between your kitchen and your living room.

“Really?” you sassed raising an eyebrow at him, “what about that time when you-” you went on as you started mentioning the names of all the people he has dated ever since you’ve been friends, which wasn’t much compared to some of your friends, but it was definitely a noticeable amount.

“And not to mention all the other ones you practically flirted in front of me” he couldn’t help but feel sour at the mention of all those names.

Yes, he did have feelings for all those women that have been in his life. But, it wasn’t until he realized that all the women he’s ever dated in college, always either had something in common or is the complete opposite of you.

It was then he realized that all this time, that was his way of suppressing his feelings towards you. As for the girls he had flirted with in front of you, though that occasion rarely happened in his opinion.

He somehow knew he wanted to catch your attention, in hopes that you’d feel jealous and would want to start pursuing him.

Which he knows is incredibly immature of himself, but somehow he’d still fall into the same guilt, repeating his mistakes again just for the sake of getting you to chase him back.

Before today, he had wanted to forever bury any desire left in him for you, to just continue being friends.

But, it wasn’t until today you texted that you wanted to see him.

He thought that maybe you wanted to talk about something.

Maybe, you wanted to talk how you truly felt about him.

But, later he dug his own grave when you said that you needed his help for your upcoming blind date.

Through it all, he still had questions in his head. Why him? Why only him? You could’ve at least ask your girl friends to help you out, but why him?

Those questions sparked a little hope in him, a little hope that he has a chance to actually make you fall for him. Though the chances were slim to none, he was still willing to take it.

“Ok, but still those aren’t considered many, if you compared me with other people in our friend group” he snapped back into reality as he sees you thinking for a moment.

Tucking your hair behind your ear.

“You have a point” you acknowledged before going back to your closet, picking out clothes from your closet for an afternoon date in the park.

“Hey, let’s say if you were going on a park date with a girl you’ve never met before, would you find her more attractive in a dress or in jeans and a plain top?” you asked lifting the two options on either side of your arms.

For a moment in his head he imagined how you looked good in both, but he was leaning more on to the dress.

He had fantasized the both of you laid out a carpet in the park, with you wearing that pretty dress you were holding and you smiling up at him as you caressed his hair.

“Well, I’m not really the one going on the date” he put his hands inside his pockets, “plus, you’ve never really met the guy in real life, how would you know he’s not some creep?” he added.

“Well, I’ve seen his pictures ok? He doesn’t look creepy at all” you tilted your head before walking towards your bathroom and shutting the door behind you.

“Looks can deceive, you know that right?” he half shouted from across the room as he plopped down on her couch, pulling out his phone from his pocket.

A few moments later, you came out of the bathroom with your first outfit, your jeans were rather baggy and low waisted, showing a little bit of your midriff and your top was just a plain white top that fitted your upper body just the way you liked it.

Jay couldn’t help but stare in awe as you walked towards your floor length mirror, greeted by the dimples on your back, he turned away rather shyly as he rubbed his thighs, trying desperately to relax.

“So” you spoke turning around to face him, “do you think this will do?” you asked as you fidgeted your fingers.

“Uhm” he stared for a moment, not knowing what to say.

You had already looked flawless to him, so there was not much to be said other than to utter perfection. Which he was too proud to say in front of you.

“It looks, nice” seeing his response felt a bit lackluster, you furrowed your eyebrows and tilted your head as a reaction, flashing him a lopsided smile. He noticed your reaction and opened his mouth in response.

“It looks great, y-you look great”

shit

He mentally face palmed himself for stuttering.

“But, why don’t you try on that dress first, you know, uhm, for safe measurements?” he suggested trying to save himself from further embarrassing himself.

“uhm, ok sure, yeah” you responded smirking at him from his odd respond before going back to the bathroom and shutting the door behind you.

Moments later you came out with a short dress that you thought complemented your figure and complexion.

The low cut revealed your cleavage in a flattering way and the hem of the dress accentuated your figure, or at least the parts that you purposefully wanted to accentuate.

“How about this one?” you pinched the edges of the dress, giving a small twirl at the end, you looked up from your dress to look at his face, his mouth was opened, eyes stunned, ears red and body frozen.

His reaction made your heart skip a couple of beats.

For a second you thought he was having a stroke, but now you could only stand there stiff waiting for him to say something back.

“Uhm, t-to be honest, I think the j-jeans and top one was better” he responded swallowing a spit down his throat, covering his coughs with his elbow. The blush from his cheeks peaking out of his elbows.

You could tell he was just using coughs as a gimmick to hide his blush.

Which is exactly what he was doing. His heart was running laps around his body, thumping hard at the sight of you wearing a dress that made you look impossibly hotter than you did before.

At that moment, if he could get down on his knees to worship you. He would do so voluntarily.

His possessive side definitely got the best of him after seeing you in a dress. He knew you weren’t his, but he knew that he’d rather put a gun to his head than see you dressed like that for another guy, let alone a guy you’ve never met.

Especially, not with the way that dress was revealing your breasts, it had him riled up in his seat almost instantaneously.

You sighed and rolled your eyes at his actions before going back to the bathroom and changing back to your jeans and top before laying down beside him on your couch. He instantly swung his arm over your head to lay it behind your figure on the back of the sofa.

“Better?” you smirked, batting your lashes at him. For a moment he stared at you in silence before he nodded, flashing a smirk at you before he shyly looked away to see your book shelves and vinyl player from across the room.

“You wanna play a little music to maybe help you get ready?” he suddenly got up from the couch reaching for your vinyl cabinet, leaving you feeling a little disappointed.

“Yeah, sure definitely” you said readjusted yourself on the couch.

“When’s your date coming anyways?” he asked browsing through your vinyls.

“In 4 hours give or take” you stood up from your seat and squatted down next to him, opening the glass cabinet.

He turned to you, wide eyed and eyebrows furrowed as he watches you tuck the strands of your hair to the back of your ear, your eyes latching onto the glass cabinet, concentrated in picking the right vinyl to set the mood.

“You’re kidding? That’ll still be awhile, why’d you even invited me anyways?” He sat down on the floor and folded his leg, using it as an arm rest. His eyes followed your figure as you placed your vinyl on your coffee table.

There was a few moments of comfortable silence, followed by an ever so small romantic tension between the both of you that quickly filled your apartment to the brim before you opened your mouth.

“I wanted you to be here” you spoke truthfully, flashing him a nervous smile feeling your blood rush up to your cheeks as your body starts to tense at the feeling of his eyes on you.

You looked at him for some time and you’d notice how his mouth is just hanged opened a little, eyes dazed, ears red, the words struggled to slip out from his mouth as he swallowed his own spit.

Does he, actually like me back?

You thought to yourself, turning away, feeling your cheeks heat up more and more at the thought.

“Is Blood Orange ok?” you suddenly switched the topic, in hopes that it would calm down the butterflies you had in your stomach as you walked towards the cables, struggling to plug in your vinyl player.

Jay wasted no time to get up and help you set up, resulting in his hand brushing over yours. Ever so slightly, but it triggered a reaction so big inside you, you felt like you could just melt right then and there.

Not so long after you put the vinyl in place and set it all up, the first song of the track began to play. The music filling in the silence that once roamed your apartment.

“Thanks by the way” you spoke standing up and putting your hands in your back pockets.

“No problem” Jay got up, dusting his arms off.

For a moment, there was this valley of awkward silence in between the both of you. The music in the background could only cover such little awkwardness.

His hands were in his pockets and yours were on your hips. You nodded for no reason trying your absolute best to avoid eye contact with him and vice versa.

Jay clicked his tongue making you turn to face him, he was pointing at the bathroom door behind him before rubbing his hand on the back of his neck.

“I need to use the bathroom by the way” he glanced at the bathroom door, putting his hands in his pockets flashing you a small smile.

“Uhm, sure, yeah, sure thing, no pro, eughm problem” you coughed in the middle of your sentence as you turned around, trying to find something to busy yourself with as you waited.

The sound of the bathroom door creaking opened and the toilet flushing made you turn your head, turning your gaze from your book to Jay.

“I’m gonna go do my makeup now” you purposefully brushed against him as you strutted to the bathroom, leaving him to turn his head to you.

Following your figure as you opened the bathroom door, for a moment it left him breathless, but for the next moment, it made him contemplate.

Your apartment wasn’t a crowded space, since there was only the two of you in your whole apartment. Yet, you still decided to brush against him as if you were in a room full of people.

Was it possible that you wanted him back?

Or, was that just your way of teasing him?

He plopped down on your couch and grabbed the book you read earlier on, eyeing it curiously.

The Summer I Turned Pretty.

I think I saw this once on prime.

He thought, as he examined the covers and fidgeted with the pages.

“Hey, isn’t this a television show?” he asked holding up the book, making you turn around after pumping moisturizer into your hands.

“oh yeah it is, it’s on prime” you responded before going back to face the mirror, dotting your moisturizer on to your face.

“why not just watch the show?” he asked raising his shoulders looking at you.

“I did, and they said there were a few differences between the book and the show” you spoke as you fanned yourself.

“what difference does it make?” he mumbled to himself as he started reading the first page, eyebrows furrowed and lips pouted in concentration.

The music filled in the void of silence in between the both of you, as you mouthed the lyrics, moving your shoulders to the beat as you waited for your concealer to set.

After Jay was about a chapter in, he closed the book. Not that it was boring or anything, he just wasn’t interested in where the story was going.

He leaned his head back on the couch, stretching his arms on either side feeling the music take over his mind.

For a moment he recalled all the moments he had looked at the same ceiling.

The house warming party you had at your second year of uni and how gorgeous you looked wearing that sparkly dress as you danced to the beat of the house music playing in the background.

The time you let him and his two friends sleep here when they got black out drunk at a nearby sports bar after his favorite soccer team won a rematch.

He remembered how you made him a hangover drink the morning after that worked like a charm, that he now makes it every time he goes back to his apartment hammered after a party or a gathering.

Or the many times he studied for his finals or midterms in your apartment. You were always willing to lend him a hand, that at times he worries that you were neglecting your work just to do his.

He liked spending time with you, wether inside or outside your apartment.

He liked how your humors clicked with each other.

He liked how the both of you seemingly development the same habits overtime, wether good or bad.

He liked how you’re always concentrated in your studies, but you never gate keep things and that you’re always willing to help out others when in need.

He liked how though you were seemingly cold to approach at first, you soon melted into this kind and warm personality.

He liked how warm you smiled and greeted other people, though you’ve only talked to them once or twice.

He liked the seemingly bad habits you’d always mention, but to him they seem adorable.

He liked how when you flirt, your voice always go in this specific tone of voice that has him on the edge of his seat.

He liked how your hair shined under the sunlight.

He liked the way you smile and curl your lips.

He liked you.

Eventually, his mind traced back to the party he had celebrated in Sunghoon’s house a few months ago, it wasn’t a big party and only both your friend group came.

You were very drunk and he could tell from your expression.

He didn’t know what had happened, but somehow suddenly, you took him upstairs to the second floor.

Dragging him by the hand.

He didn’t know if you were aware of what you were doing, but all of a sudden you straddled him on his lap on top of a couch.

Your face flushed red, smiling and giggling like a mad man.

“You know I’ve always had a crush on you Jay” your sultry seductive voice replayed in his head.

“But, do you like me? Please, please tell me you like me back” you asked with your half lidded eyes as you wrapped your hands around his neck, your face was inches from his.

He did like you, he had liked you ever since he saw you walking down the hallways for the first time.

A little regret lingered down his throat as he had wish he hadn’t cast his feelings aside in order to not damage your friendship.

If he hadn’t cast those feelings aside all this time, he could only imagine the things you’d be doing right then at that very moment.

But, he couldn’t blame himself after all. It was all in the past.

He recalled her pouting in disappointment as she was met with silence at the time, so she nuzzled her face on to the crook of his neck. Her nose rubbing against the bottom of his ear making his slacks grow tighter.

The way her legs were positioned didn’t make it any easier for him either.

He didn’t know where the sudden surge of confidence came to be, was it the alcohol or the atmosphere at that time, but he couldn’t care less anymore as he cupped your cheek making you look at him in wonder.

Your eyes were a daze, looking into him deeply as your face were centimeters from each other. He turned your head to the side as he closed his eyes and took your lips in his.

He felt that you embraced him closer as you pressed your lips deeper against him.

His hands moved from your cheek to your waist, gripping them tight making you moan into his mouth. Making his dick grow harder in his pants.

Your lips crashed passionately into each other, pulling back and forth like a mind game as you laced your fingers in his hair, making him groan.

He started rubbing the sides of your body as he licked the bottom of your lip, asking for permission to which you happily gave in to.

You opened your mouth and he slipped his tongue in. It felt like heaven to him when your tongues clashed into each other.

Your lips, your kiss and your tongue. God, your tongue. Felt so good and hypnotizing, tangled with each other.

His hands would switch between your cheeks and your waist to gently give you assurance every time.

He trailed kisses from your lips to your ear and eventually to your neck, making you lean your head back, giving him more space to roam with his mouth.

Your sighs grew louder as he started kissing a certain spot on your neck. He took it as a sign that, that was your weak spot. Before he started gently sucking on it making you moan quietly under your breath.

He didn’t expect your next bold move, but it made him incredibly harder than he was already. You took one of his hands that was on your waist and you slipped it under your shirt to the point where his fingertips were right under your bra.

He didn’t think you’d stop there, because you had stopped for a moment, he just continued kissing and sucking on your weak spots.

But, his mouth was left opened when he felt his hand that was under your shirt, was being lifted up your bra as your hand guided him to do so.

He was now gently massaging your bare breast as it made you moan and leaned your head back.

“Please Jay” you moaned his name.

Driving him insane as you grind on his clothed shaft, making him lean his head back in pleasure as you continuously moaned his name.

You were a sight to behold.

His hand was gently massaging your breasts, revealing your beautiful bare skin from your stomach up. Eyes shut and mouth opened in pleasure, as you slowly grind up on him.

It was his first time he had ever seen you like this.

Needy for him only.

He can never let go of that image from his head.

He was in heaven.

But, he would never forgive whoever came into the room, interrupting such a precious moment with you, making the both of you instantly panic to hide and cover yourselves.

Your face on his lap at that moment became his weekly masturbation material.

Making him tight in his pants whenever he remembers it or whenever the side of your body was pressed up against his.

It drove him almost insane, when he found out you didn’t remember a thing from that night.

He snapped back into reality when he heard you hummed a long to the record playing from the bathroom.

His eyes looked at your back as you brushed your face with whatever you were wearing on your face.

A spike of confidence ran through him as he got up from his chair and walked up towards you.

He didn’t know why he got up, maybe he was stupid. Maybe he is being stupid.

But, he was stupid enough to wanna be near you, knowing fully well he might mess it up.

The last song of the album replayed for the third time today in the background as you curled your lashes, before turning around to see him standing on the doorframe of your bathroom.

“Hey” you greeted as he smirked at you, before walking closer till he was eventually standing right beside you.

“Whatcha doing?” he asked as he examined the makeup products that was in front of him.

He mentally cringed at himself for letting such a cheesy line slip from his mouth.

“Well, my makeup, but right now I’m doing the finishing touches, so what’s up?” you asked as you put on your mascara.

“You know, you asked me to come here to give you some dating advice, but you know what I’ve realized?” he asked invoking her curiosity.

“Go on” you replied putting down your mascara, turning your body to the side to look at him.

“You’ve never once asked me about a dating advice” he furrowed his eyebrows.

Your smile faded and your eyes widen at the realization.

Gotcha.

He thought.

“Well, I did tell you, I wanted you to be here” you spoke but his eyes soften, as if he knew you were already hiding your real reason.

“You could’ve had anybody else here y/n, why me? Out of all the people” he asked as he crossed his arms, leaning back on the counter.

“I-” there was a wave of silence between the both of you as you looked away, bitting your bottom lip.

You were contemplating, the tension in the bathroom was almost too much for you to shrug it off.

You wanted to tell him the truth, but you were scared that Jay wasn’t actually that interested in you and that he just wanted to be friends.

But, by his body language and demeanor through out the whole time you’ve been here, said other wise.

Fuck it.

“Can I ask you something?” he suddenly asked interrupting your thoughts.

“Sure, sure anything” you responded putting your hands in your pockets.

“That night at Sunghoon’s party, was it true when you said that you didn’t remember a thing?” he asked as his eyes widen in curiosity.

Your heart was beating so fast and you felt your cheeks blush remembering what had happened.

It was clear you didn’t remember everything, but you remembered some parts that you had with him.

You looked up at him and you can see the hope and glimmer in his eyes, whatever answer he wanted. You couldn’t take the underlying tension between the both of you anymore, you knew you had to tell the truth.

Wether it be a rejection or he does actually like you back, you wanted to let go of the burden of feeling like you had to play pretend all this time.

You shook your head as a rebuttal, looking away, cheeks red from embarrassment.

The way you made out with him and the way you let him fondled your breasts like that, made you feel hot.

Especially at this moment, since he was now standing so close to you.

He swallowed his spit before opening his mouth.

“What did you actually remember?” he asked.

You swallowed a spit as you find yourself leaning dangerously close to him, bitting your lips, thinking about how you should say it.

“I remember what I said a couple of times, and the fact that we made out” you mentioned the last few words in a whisper.

He bit the bottom of his lip, containing his smile.

He adjusted his height to match where he was now standing face-to-face with you.

His smirk teasing you as you tried so desperately to avoid his eyes on you.

Causing butterflies to form in your stomach.

“And-” your words were cut off when you realized how close his lips were to yours, when his hands gently snaked on to your waist making you gasp quietly.

Your hands landed on his clothed chest almost instantly.

Your eyes never broke contact from each other as if the sexual tension between the both of you wasn’t already overwhelming.

He leaned forward, feeling his breath so close to your ear.

You sighed as you closed your eyes, the feeling becoming a little too much.

“Go on” he whispered as he closed his eyes, smirking in a sultry manner that sparked a fire in you.

“I don’t wanna say it” you turned away shyly, hearts beating fast, face as red as a tomato, too embarrassed to admit the act you did while you were both intoxicated.

His eyes soften and he sighed, smiling at you softly.

“That’s ok” he spoke as he rubbed your waist, comforting you in his touch.

The silence between the both of you know felt comfortable, the sexual tension was definitely still there.

But, it made you feel glad that you didn’t have to admit what you were uncomfortable to admit with him and it made you glad that he felt the same way, at least by the way he was responding to you.

“But, do you wanna do it again?” he whispered in your ear, making you giggle as he did the same.

“Yes, please” you nodded as he smiled at you, carefully setting aside your makeup from the counter.

He picked you up by your waist from the floor making you chuckle before putting you on top of your sink counter.

He smiled at you as he leaned his head to the side, his hands were on your waist and his lips were merely inches apart from yours as he waited for you to come back down from laughing.

You smiled at him, latching your arms on to his broad shoulders before pulling him in closer until his lips met yours.

His other hand cupped your cheek as he leaned in closer, deepening the kiss as his heart was thumping out of his chest.

Though very little words could convey what they felt at that moment. Their kiss was filled with all the longing and love, any lovers could ever offer.

Your hand went up the back of his neck, slowly caressing his jet black hair. He let out a groan as he momentarily pulled away from your lips before latching on again shortly, angling his head in a different way, deepening the kiss further, completely drunk on your lips.

He opened his mouth and you used this as an opportunity to slid in your tongue. Making him sigh as you finally did.

Your tongues were tangled in each other as the kiss grew impossibly deeper. The passion running through your veins as the both of you went on.

His hand that was on your cheek moved to the back of your neck as he slowly tugged at your hair, gently leaning your head to the side as he started trailing kisses from your jawline to your neck ever so softly.

“Jay” you moaned his name as he started gently sucking on your weak spots.

Your hands started caressing his body as his lips moved to the bottom of your neck, gently kissing and sucking.

Your mouth opened slightly and your eyes closed shut as the feeling of pleasure took over your body.

“God, y/n” he moaned at how good it felt when you caressed him.

He pulled away from you softly, you sighed in complaint at the loss of his lips on your neck.

His breath was heavy and so was yours as he pressed his forehead against yours, eyeing you.

Your flushed face, eyes shut, and heavy breathing. Made his heart race and his mind hazy.

Soon later, you sighed as you stared at his lips. Wanting more of it.

Like clockwork, he knew what you wanted and smiled at how adorable you looked, wanting nothing but his lips on yours again.

He smiled into the kiss as you did the same. This time the kiss was softer, but soon grew insatiable as you clung onto his shoulders and he was pulling you closer till your clothed chest was pressed against his.

Soon, his lips were back on your neck and he pulled your collar to the side as he trailed kisses on your collarbone, gently nibbling and bitting as you leaned your head back against the mirror, letting out a moan from the pleasure of it all.

Jay’s pants grew tighter as you both went on, with the way you were moaning his name it turned him on unlike any other girl he’s ever slept with.

Suddenly, you heard your phone ringing from across the counter, making you snap back onto reality.

Jay stopped abruptly, glancing at you as you picked up your phone.

Your eyes widen at the name that popped up on your screen.

“Shit, it’s my date” you cursed as he sighed, turning away in disappointment.

“He isn’t suppose to be here for another hour, right?” Jay asked, checking his wrist watch as he did so.

“I know” you responded before picking up the call.

“Heyy” you greeted, faking a smile even though the person on the other end of the line can’t see you in person.

Your blind date asked if you still wanted to go on that date.

“Well uhm” you glanced at Jay, who raised his eyebrows at you.

“Actually, I’m really sorry, I can’t go on a date with you” Jay’s eyes widen at your words.

“I have other plans as it turns out” you followed as you smiled at him, bitting your lip as you looked away.

He could’ve sworn he felt butterflies swarming up his stomach.

“Sure, sure, thanks so much for understanding, ok, ok thanks, bye” that’s all you said before you hung up the phone.

He let out a small chuckle at what just happened.

“You dumped your date for me?” he smiled teasingly, raising his eyebrows at you as he held on to the counter.

“Great guy, but honestly wasn’t really that interested in him anyways” you smiled confidently making him chuckle at you.

You sat there just smiling at each other, a wave of comfortable silence blended with the music in the background as it repeats its first song track for the fifth time today.

“So,” he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, making you blush and smile at his cheeky behavior.

“What do we do now?” he asked as his face was merely inches from yours.

“Can I be honest?” he nodded at your question as he placed small kisses all over your neck making you sigh under your breath.

“I spent almost an hour doing my makeup, honestly I think it’ll be a waste of my efforts if we were to have sex right now” you stated as he pulled away, eyes widen surprised at your straightforward respond.

He snorted, smirking. Even after all this time he had known you, you still managed to surprise him.

“Ok then, what do you want to do instead?” he asked as he smiled at you softly.

“I’m thinking” you played with his hair, making him blush and smile up at you.

“A drive? Maybe some, dinner?” he raised his eyebrows at you as he smirked.

“Sure thing.”

[hansensgirl]

☕️ — 𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲, 𝐎𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧

summary. — it’s the time of year to be with the one who loves you, even if you don’t know it yet.

pairing. | dark!Steve Rogers x fem!reader.

warnings. | NON/DUBCON, dark themes, drugging, sleeping beauty au (but changed), kidnapping, manipulation, obsession, pet names (petal, baby), smut, kissing, choking, praise, dirty talk, rough sex, creampie kink, use of spit as lube, it’s winter, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

word count. | 4.4k

author's note. | this is a birthday fic for the amazing @xsapphirescrollsx. happy birthday sweetie! you have been my biggest inspiration since i joined tumblr. your fics are some of the best, and you are such a kind and talented person. i'm so sorry i took so long to post this! i hope you like it, darling. thank you @cuttlefjsh for beta-ing. please enjoy this fic! taglist: @hansensfics. MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY

In the last three years, the winters have been more bleak than bitter. What once used to be frostbite and fluffy snow is now dry air and slush-filled shoes. But up here, on this mountain, it’s more like a snow globe than anything else. One where the white particles won’t stop swirling, and the wind around you makes everything spin.

“Heya, Stevie,” you hum from your spot behind the wooden table. The bell of the door rings when he enters, a full six feet and two inches that you don’t even have to see to know it’s him. You’re hunched over your latest project—hemming the raw edge of some lady’s red scarf. “Hiya, petal,” he sheepishly greets.

“Got something for me? It better be an ugly Christmas sweater,” you joke, pushing the sharp tip of the needle through the fabric, turning it, and then repeating the motion. “Ah, I wish. It’s just one of the handkerchiefs my mom bought me,” Steve starts, inching closer to your workstation.

He ignores the other people there, the ones waiting for their things and the others repairing or creating said things. 

“Why don’t you just bring them all, Stevie? I can repair them in one go, and you won’t have to come down here so much,” you question, knotting the end of the thread and biting the excess off with your tooth. Steve lives up in the mountains, and everyone is in awe of him for it. 

Long journeys that only he can handle—he’s a god in their eyes. But to you, he’s just shy Stevie, trying to keep an ever-fading memory intact. 

“I like coming down here as much as I can,” he sheepishly admits, ducking away from you. His gaze flits elsewhere, to the mannequin with no arms. “Ah, I see. You enjoy the exercise?” you question, not looking up at him still. You examine your work well done.

“Eh… No, not really. I mean—I do love exercise, but that’s not why I like coming by,” he stammers, hoping you don’t force him to spell it out. Steve is as red as the roses he spies in a vase. Where did those come from? “Really? Pray tell,” you smile, standing up and handing the scarf over to a much older woman.

You turn back around and settle into your cushioned chair, with Steve following your every step. It’s funny, though. His one step is about two strides from you. 

“You,” he simply says, as if it’s something obvious that you haven’t quite picked up yet. You snort, admiring his cuteness, and begin to sort out what to do with his mother’s handkerchief. A few moments of silence pass, and Steve says your name. “Mmm?” you hum.

“I like seeing you. I love seeing you,” he emphasizes, and you beam at him, amused. “I love seeing you, too, Stevie. You always put a smile on my face,” you tell him, and his grin falters. It picks up again. 

His teeth are nearly pearl-white, straight but not off-putting. Steve is a handsome man—no one can deny that. The gossipers wonder why his ex-girlfriend suddenly left the town, and the college-aged women bat their eyelashes at him. 

When Steve visits the market or decidedly takes a stroll, everyone behaves as if there are standards to be met and sweet, simpleton Stevie is a king that’s hard to please. But they don’t know the man who still misses his strong mother or the man who tries his hardest to hold onto the past as it attempts to slip through his fingers.

“Hey, Steve?” you call out, even though you know he’s still standing before you. “Yeah?” he eagerly, loudly replies. “This one’s gonna take me some to get done. You can get your other errands done in the meantime,” you tell him.

She isn’t rejecting you, sweetie. She’s just playing hard to get. It’s what your father and I did…

The reassuring voice of Steve’s mother is right in his ear, her hand smoothing over his golden hair. He can practically feel her there—right next to him, searching for the grocery list as she gives him some of life’s best advice. 

He smiles to himself, lips pressing together yet stretched out. Truth be told, Steve does not have anything he needs to do. He convinced James to deliver some groceries a week ago, as he was too busy sorting through Sarah’s belongings.

But he’ll do anything you ask of him. You’re so beautiful and intelligent, the woman he’s always yearned for without realizing. 

It’s daily easy to put up a farce—fake smile, ingenuine gleaming eyes. Every woman who passes by Steve swoons, unlike how it was years ago. When he was bullied for things out of his control. No woman wanted him then, but now they all do. In his mind, he sort of scoffs. They don’t hold a candle to you—his dream girl. 

“Hey, Steve!” a familiar voice calls out, capturing the blond’s attention. He quickly pinpoints where it’s coming from despite the burning of his ears. The temperature has dropped overnight, and Steve worries you aren’t dressed warm enough to withstand the frigidness. 

Natasha stands by a French-style door, cheeks almost as red as her hair. She waves to Steve before making a come-hither motion with her hand, beckoning her friend. He eagerly makes his way over to her before breaking out in a light jog to speed things up.

“How’s it been?” Natasha asks, enveloping Steve in a hug. “Great, actually,” he tells her, much to her surprise.

It’s unlike Steve to lie about how he feels, especially at such a vulnerable moment in his life. And it’s so odd that she cannot sense an ounce of fiction in his words. “Really?” she questions, rubbing his back as usual before pulling away. “Yeah… Well, it’s been a bit hard, but…” he trails off, cheeks flushing.

“But?” Natasha prompts, ushering him into her store. It’s a hidden gem in the county but constantly raved about throughout town. Whatever other shops don’t have, she does—even the most unlikely of things. 

“I… Well, there’s this girl,” Steve starts, breaking out in a breathy chuckle as Natasha gawks at him. “A girl, huh?” she laughs, mindlessly shifting bottles on a shelf that’s just been organized. “Yeah, a girl. Gosh, Nat, she’s the best. I can already see her in a wedding dress,” he expresses. 

“She must be a catch. She’s got you rhyming and wanting to get married,” Natasha jests, happy to see her once-wilted friend now bloom. The two friends giggle in tandem before sighing deeply. “Well, if I’m being completely honest, she’s also got me staying up way too late at night. I can barely get an hour these days.” Steve’s confession has Natasha cooing at him. “That’s no good. Have you gone to the doctor? Bruce may be busy, but he could connect you to Stephen,” she tries, swiping barely visible dust off a surface. “Nah, it’s not that bad,” he shrugs, picking up a eucalyptus candle. 

“Don’t pretend it’s nothing, Stevie. Especially not with me,” Natasha warns, reaching up to a shelf mounted on the wall. She gently grabs a small bottle of green liquid with vines decorating it. “Here, take this,” she urges, pressing it into his palm.

“Nat, I can’t–”  he starts, attempting to push it back towards his friend. The redhead shakes her head and takes his other hand, bringing the two together to cover the bottle entirely. “You will, okay? It’s just something that’ll help you. Put just a drop in some tea or coffee, and you’ll be out like a light.”

The blond nods his head, soaking in all the information. “But only one teeny, tiny drop, Steve. A little goes a long way. Too much will make you sleep for longer than you’d like.”

“As in death?” 

“No, no. Not death. It’ll be like a coma—knocked out for a few days. Only one small drop.”

The words echo in his mind as he steps out of Natasha’s store. They follow him as he returns to Snowy Stitches, and you wave him over to your station. They're barely present in his head as you speak and hand the handkerchief back to him. But they’re louder than ever when he makes a pot of hot chocolate to give you. 

Steve, perhaps your most loyal customer, visits again the next day. It’s not very busy on Tuesdays, especially not towards the end of your shift. It’s dark outside, and the streetlights illuminate the sidewalks enough for you to recognize a few passersby.

You find yourself repairing your own clothes while your coworkers chat. You’re not startled when the blond says your name, two cups of something in his hands.

“Hi,” you hum, glancing up at him and pausing your movements. “How are you?” he asks you, seemingly giddy with how he can’t stop moving. “I’m good, really tired, though,” you admit. “How are you?”

“I’m great, actually,” Steve tells you. “Yeah?” He’s got a wide grin on his face, and you can’t help but mirror it. “Yeah… What’s that?” you question, pointing to the cups he holds. “Oh, I, uh, I brought them. I made them,” he starts, nervous.

You raise your eyebrows, urging him to continue. “Well, I didn’t make the cups, obviously. I made hot chocolate. This is for you,” he tells you, placing the one in his left hand on your desk. “Oh, Steve. Thank you so much! You’re the sweetest.” With a wide grin, you take a sip of the sweet beverage. It glides down your throat and leaves your taste buds begging for more. It’s got a peppermint aftertaste that mixes perfectly with the overall chocolate flavour. You’ve never had anything like it before.

“Wow… Steve, this is delicious. Did you make it yourself?” you ask before going back in for another sip. “Yep. It’s a special recipe of mine,” he tells you, smiling as he watches you grow fond of his gift. 

“Why’s it special?” you finally say, pulling the cup away from your face. You feel like a fool for not pacing yourself. But the amusement on Steve’s face quells your embarrassment. “S’a secret ingredient. I can’t say.” 

“Well, whatever it is must be magical. Really. You should sell some of this, Steve. I’ve never had anything this good,” you admit. 

“You flatter me. Well, enjoy the rest. I’ll make sure to give you another batch next time,” he oddly says. Steve has always found some way to stick around longer than necessary. You don’t think much of this, though. Maybe he has somewhere to be. 

“Yes, please. Have a good night, Steve,” you bid, and he nods at you as he walks out. 

A little over twenty minutes have passed, and it’s time for you to head home. You bundle up for the unforgiving cold you’ve been dreading and say goodbye to your last two coworkers there. 

They’re elderly women who have retired but can’t stand the boredom, so they decided to come up to your snowy hometown and open an alterations store. You’ve been working here longer than either of you can remember.

Steve watches as you do the last button on your coat and push the door open. 

He’s been across the street the entire time—hidden under the shelter of Natasha’s store. His view was as clear as day, and he was so worried you’d catch him smiling once he saw you finish every last drop of the hot chocolate. 

The streets cleared out as it grew darker and closer to the end of your workday. He was more than grateful for this. 

No one to catch him. No one to disturb his work.

Steve trails behind you silently, years of undercover work and dangerous missions coming into use after all. 

He notes the way you start to stagger, how you lean on the nearest wall or tree to steady yourself. He almost feels bad for smiling—but he just can’t help it. He’s wanted you for so long—and now you’re here, in his trap, waiting for him to catch you like the perfect prey. 

Your eyelids feel heavy as you try your hardest to get home. Your head swings, and your legs feel like they can’t work as they should. Panic sets deep into your bones as the cold nips at your skin, creating an unsavoury feeling you just want to disappear.

It’s hard to think straight as your thoughts turn into a blur of words and nonsense. You slide down on the brick wall to the old blacksmith store, where a man named Thor usually resides. But it’s winter, and he always escapes the cold weather by heading to some beautiful island. 

Everything feels surreal—like you’re half asleep and waiting for dreamland to pull you back in. You’re not sure why this is happening. Is it fatigue? Were you running a temperature without realizing it? Did you eat anything? Nothing comes to mind. 

“Oh, baby…” a familiar voice croons behind you as a large, warm body joins you on the wet ground. “St– Steve? Is that you?” you slur through your stupor, making out his blond hair and handsome face. “Shh, don’t worry about that,” he reassures, though his overly calm voice does little to quell your worries.

He smoothes a large hand over your hair continuously, holding your body up with his other arm. He rocks you like a baby—like he’s putting you to sleep. It’s terribly bizarre, but you can’t fight it. 

Not when you’re sound asleep, anyway. 

Your limbs feel heavy—like they’re coated in molasses and held down by something too strong. Blankets keep you warm, but they’re too fluffy to be yours. Remnants of an inexplicable dream taunt you—one of an ordinary day at work with a grim ending. 

You try to piece each fragment together and force your eyes to open. You’re met with a bright view from a window—and you know immediately that this isn’t your home. 

In a frenzy, you whip your head around to take in your surroundings. The room is dark and grey, reminding you of some evil castle in a movie you watched as a child. None of the items are yours—so then why are you here? How did you end up in this place? Panic takes hold, and you push the blankets off your body, groaning at the immediate chill that takes over your body. You know better than to not dress warm for bed. But you’ve got a white nightgown on, something straight out of a time long before yours, yet with a modern, revealing flip to it.

“Good morning,” a familiar voice calls behind the wooden, bolted door. You rush to it and slam your hands on the material when your head starts to spin. You’re surprised you made it that far. “How did you sleep, petal?” Steve says, and the realization makes your stomach turn in dread.

“St– Steve?!” you incredulously ask, horror painting your features. “Yeah?” he answers, closer than you expected.

You don’t respond to him. Instead, you try your best to think positively. Maybe something happened to you, and Steve saved you. It’s the most plausible explanation and the one that regulates your breathing. You stick to it, turning it over in your mind and repeating this gentler idea.

“I’m coming in,” he warns, and you involuntarily take a step back. The door creaks loudly as Steve opens it, but the clanging of metal bolts and locks is even louder. “Morning!” he cheers, shutting it behind him.

His large frame blocks your view—you can’t even watch him seal your fate.

“Mo– Morning, Steve…” you start, looking at the tray he holds. It’s metal and quite fancy. On it are plates of breakfast foods that are your favourite, including two cups of coffee. “Uh…” you start, so many questions ready for him, but they all fizzle into nothing on the tip of your tongue.

“Hungry? I’m sure you are. I got you some coffee, too. But if you prefer tea, I’ll be happy to oblige,” he rambles, setting the tray on the bedside table. “No, coffee’s fine. What happened to me? How did I get here?” you question, getting straight to the point.

Steve stands up straight, and it’s only then that you realize just how large he is. He towers over you with ease.

“Ah, nothing you need to stress about, don’t worry. You’re home now, baby,” he smiles, sitting on the bed and patting the spot beside him. “Hah, good one. Was there a snowstorm?” you wonder, not sure why you can’t remember anything. “Nope.”

He hands you a plate, and you note how his body radiates plenty of warmth. No wonder there’s no heating here.

“Eat up, buttercup,” he playfully rhymes, but you don’t have an appetite. 

A red mug. An empty, dark street. A brick wall. Steve holding you against his body. The hot chocolate.

“Did you drug me, Steve? Did you drug and kidnap me?” you accuse, standing up. But before you can get far, he grabs you by your wrist and pulls you into his lap. “There we are. Of course, I did, baby.”

Steve’s bluntness is horrifying. But shock has you paralyzed, and you don’t think to fight him. “Ma always taught me to take what’s mine, especially when a girl’s playin’ hard to get. It was cute at first, but I grew sick of it,” he seethes, eyes darker than you’re used to.

“You should eat your food before it gets cold. I made your favourite pancakes, and I’d hate to see them go to waste,” he follows, his tone lightening as a small smile spreads across his face. “I’m not really hungry, St– Steve. But thank you for the food,” you choke out, letting his previous words sink in.

Playing hard to get.

An idea strikes you. You’ve always been a creative and quick thinker. It’s one of the qualities Steve admires most about you. “How about we save this for a date later tonight? Or maybe even tomorrow? We can go to my place instead,” you offer, feigning excitement. 

He doesn’t even take a moment to think about your offer. “Hmm… Well, why should I wait, petal? Hm? When you’re right here with me already?” he grins.

Steve’s large, smooth hands grab onto your waist, ruffling the fabric of the nightgown you realize he changed you into. His fingers dig into your skin, making you wince from the pain. He shushes you and lays back against the bed, groping at any amount of skin he can reach. 

Against your will, you can feel your skin getting warmer and your pussy getting wet. It shouldn’t be this easy to get you worked up—but it is, and you curse yourself for it. “You look gorgeous in white, baby,” he murmurs, pulling you down so your chest touches his. “But you look much better with nothing on,” he whispers.

Steve grabs onto the lace-embellished straps of your dress, and with ease, he pulls at them until they snap. The front of your gown falls, and your bare breasts are exposed, nipples pebbling in the cold air. 

“I’ve dreamed about this moment forever,” he breathlessly says, pulling the rest of the dress off your body until you’re completely naked. You can feel the hardness of his cock through his jeans, and his size frightens you. You’ve never slept with anyone that big. “I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around me, baby.”

Steve’s hand comes up to the back of your head, and he forces you into a kiss. It’s heated and literally breathtaking. His soft lips align with yours, and there’s a mix of his tongue caressing your mouth, but he pulls away sooner than you expect. 

“Can’t get carried away—I’m usually more of a romantic, but you’re too gorgeous for me to resist,” Steve sheepishly admits, like some sort of lover. Like he didn’t drug and kidnap you. “Steve, I don’t want this. Please, just let me go. I won’t tell anyone. We can still go out! Please, just let me leave.”

He hums as he ignores your words, reaching down to where your core rests on his groin, and he undoes his belt. He follows this action by pulling down his zipper and freeing his aching dick from its confines. Tears sting your eyes, but you don’t make any attempts to fight him, fearing his strength and what he might do if you push him too far. 

“I bet you feel like heaven, dontcha, honey? Enough to make a man crazy,” Steve grins, lifting you and dragging the fat tip of his cock through your folds. You’re wet, but it certainly isn’t enough to help with the incoming intrusion. The blond beneath you knows this, and so he spits into his palm and brings his damp fingers down to your cunt. 

The touch makes you flinch. Perhaps it’s the filth or the fact that you don’t want him near you at all, yet here you are. “There we go. I’ll make sure to make a mess of this pussy later, petal,” Steve promises, and you involuntarily clench at his words. 

Dirty thoughts run through your mind, and you can’t help but let out a whimper when he grinds his cock into your drooling hole. His width stretches your inner walls, the discomfort delicious despite the unfamiliar feeling of being full.

“There you go, good girl. Such a good girl for me,” Steve cooes, and your mind melts from the praise. You’ve always been a sucker for kind words. “Oh, fuck,” you mewl as he bottoms out inside your cunt. Your pussy grips him tightly from both the pain and pleasure.

“Shit—that’s it, petal. You got this,” he eggs on, watching as you scrunch your face from the adjustment. Steve keeps you there, still on his cock, for a few moments. He revels in every expression you make, the sharp exhale and the clenching of your fists. It’s a surreal experience for the blond—every bit of it feels like a fantasy that’s too vivid. 

“St– Steve,” you let out a breathy moan. The contrast between the two of you—one fully nude and the other still dressed—makes you feel shameful. “I got ya, honey,” he tells you. Suddenly, a hand wraps around your throat. You grab Steve’s wrist immediately, out of fear and arousal. Nobody’s ever done this to you; you’ve never thought of it before. He squeezes lightly, and you gasp from the pressure. “I won’t hurt you—I would never,” he reassures, though he’s careful not to tell you how much he loves the look of fear in your eyes.

“You know what to do, don’t you? Ride my cock, baby. C’mon, take what you need. Make yourself feel good,” Steve urges before guiding you himself. He uses his other hand to lift you up and drag you back down. You moan as he makes you fuck yourself on his dick. 

You eventually take charge—at least, that’s how you feel at first. Your wet walls slide up and down Steve’s length, coating him in your wetness. Every time he nudges your sweet spot, your knees buckle, and you lose momentum. 

“Yeah, that’s it. Such a good girl for me,” he grunts beneath you, though he struggles to appreciate your hard work. The pace is far too slow for him, so he starts to buck his hips upwards, meeting you halfway. His heavy balls slap against your ass each time, and the pleasure is so good that you fall forward onto his chest, with just the hand around your throat supporting you.

You still try to ride his cock, but at most, you simply gyrate your hips until your clit rubs against his pubic bone, adding to your euphoria. Your goal is to take what you want from Steve and put up with the disgusting act until you can escape his clutches. But you can feel your determination wearing away. 

Steve’s moans and groans rumble in his chest, along with the clamouring of his heart. “You feel so good, baby. So warm, an’ tight, an’ wet. All for me, right?” he hums in your ear, not caring that you don’t give him a proper response. He’ll fix that soon.

There’s a Brooklyn accent to his words, one that you only pick up on now. An orgasm builds up in you quickly, that familiar elastic band in your stomach tightening with every push and pull of the blond’s member.

You clench around his length, and Steve knows you’re about to come. “Go ahead, honey. Come all over this dick,” he grunts, and as if on command, you reach your climax. 

Stars decorate your vision as you squeeze him tightly. Euphoria pulses through your entire body, and your inner walls throb, holding onto the man under you. You stain his cock with your cream and let out a cry that is almost pornographic. “That’s it. Fuck, you were made for me,” Steve says, fucking into you with more fervour and vigour than before.

He makes you ride out your orgasm to the point where it’s almost too much to handle. You’ve never had a lover make you feel this good. 

“Shit, I’m sorry, petal, I can’t hold on any longer. Your pussy is just perfect. I’ll do better next time; I swear,” Steve promises, and you furrow your brows. He starts to use you like some sort of toy, bouncing you and chasing after his own pleasure. “I can’t wait to fill you up until you’re leaking with my cum. You want that, dontcha?” 

Initially, the idea fills you with disgust. But as his cock repeatedly hits your g-spot, you find yourself agreeing with him. It’s filthy, and you feel ashamed of yourself, but those feelings dissipate swiftly.

He pants like an animal, taking what’s his before shoving his dick deep into you. His balls clench as they empty themselves, white streaks painting your inner walls. Steve curses, and his eyes shut from the pleasure.

At the same time, you come undone for the blond once again. Your moans mirror each other as you’re filled up with his cum. “Fuck, yes,” he groans, running his hands up and down your body, almost as if to soothe you. 

You’re exhausted. Maybe it’s from the way Steve just fucked you, or maybe whatever he put in your drink last night is still in your system. 

Either way, you doze off right in his arms, just as he’s dreamed of for so long.

[minniesmutt]

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: LEE KNOW X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: NON IDOL! AU, FEM!READER, CEO!READER, SECRETARY!LEE KNOW, OFFICE SEX, FOOD MENTIONS, ALCOHOL (WINE), FIRST-TIME RELATIONSHIP SEX, PET NAMES (KITTEN, KITTY), DIRTY TALK, DOM! LEE KNOW, SUB! READER, STRONG BOY LINO DOES CARRY READER, DADDY KINK, ORAL (F. REC), GROPING, SPIT, FINGERING, BEGGING, TEASING, PROTECTED SEX, PRAISE, FINGER SUCKING, ALLUDES TO MORE ROUNDS, ALLUDES TO AFTERCARE ☾ ━━━ WC: 2.6K ☾ ━━━ repost from old blog ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     Minho wasn’t unaware that the women in his office stared at him like a piece of meat. He passed by them every day when he walked in and heard their whispers. They truly sucked at whispering. And even for such a large company, office gossip got around very quickly. 

     He always ignored them, he didn’t care what they thought about him. He just walked to his desk with two coffees, sat, and got to work. Checking over his boss’s schedules for the day and any notes left on his desk after he left last night. Ears perked up when he heard everyone else greeting their CEO when she walked in. He looked up from his computer as Y/n greeted her employees.

     “Morning Ms. L/n,” He greeted as he stood with her cup of coffee

     “Good morning Mr. Lee,” Y/n smiled and thanked him for the coffee, “Anything important on my schedule today?” 

     Minho grabbed his tablet and coffee, following her into her office, “Just a board meeting after lunch ma’am,” Minho said as he closed her office door behind him.

     “Alright,” Y/n sighed, setting her coffee and bag down on her desk, “Thank you Minho.” Y/n smiled

     Minho nodded and headed back to his desk. Busing himself answering emails and phone calls. It was the weekend so the office wasn’t super busy. Everyone mainly taking it easy till clock out time. Minho was happy the time was flying by today. 

     Around lunch, he heard his phone ping. He turned the screen on a saw a message

Y/n: free tonight?

     Minho smiled as he leaned back in his chair 

Minho: depends. Why are you asking? Y/n: just seeing if you want to come over to mine after we're off for dinner Minho: I’m free Y/n: see you after work then.  Minho: technically, I see you in a few minutes to go over your meeting material  Y/n: 🙄

     It was odd. Talking to his boss, and hiding it from the office. Though it was very easy for them to hide it. They were in their own little world most of the time. But he had some concerns at first. He knew HR would be on his ass if they found out. 

     If it wasn’t for Jisung and Felix setting them up on a blind date, he’d just be her secretary. And if he hadn’t convinced her that it was fine and that they were outside of work. Now almost a few months later they were doing alright. 

     “Hey, Minho!” One of the ladies in the office called. He looked up at her as he set his phone down. Truly, he didn’t know her name. 

     “Yeah?” he asked 

     “If you’re not busy tonight, would you want to grab some drinks with me?” She was so hopeful 

     “I already have plans for tonight,” Minho told her

     “Oh, that’s okay. Maybe another time?”

     “No thanks,” Minho stood up and grabbed his tablet and phone before standing up. 

     He didn’t say another word and headed to Y/n’s office. Knocking on the door before walking in.

      Y/n looked up from her computer as he shut the door, offering a smile as he took a seat with a sigh. 

     “You alright?” Y/n asked him

     “Fine,” Minho answered 

     Y/n got up and leaned against her desk in front of him, “Not asking as your boss.”

     “We’re at work,” he reminded her

     “In my office,” Y/n added

     “Just office stuff,” he told her, grabbing her hand and running his thumb over her knuckles, “Got asked out is all.”

     “Someone finally made a move out there?”

     “So you know about the office gossip.”

     “I like knowing things,” Y/n shrugged, “Back to work. We can talk about it more later.”

     Minho rolled his eyes and went over the details for her meeting then walked down to the room with her. Sitting and taking notes. Just doing his job while the meeting ran on. Barely recognizing the meeting had ended until the sound of chairs brought his attention back.

      He locked his tablet and let out a small sigh. Quietly standing from his chair.

     “Email me the meeting notes, would you Minho?” Y/n asked as she picked up her things. 

     “Yes. I’ll send them over as soon as I can,” Minho assured her as they made their way out of the meeting room to their respective desks.

     Working for the next few hours on little things. No company deadlines to meet this month which made everything easier. 

      Minho was about to wrap up for the day when his phone vibrated on the desk

Y/n: Rain check tonight? Minho: something come up? Y/n: Issue with one of the branch managers 🙄 HR wants me to hope on a Zoom meeting to talk about it Minho: that bad the CEO needs to hop on the call? Y/n: We’re still a pretty small company Min. It’s happened before  Minho: How about I cook tonight? Just come over once your meeting is over. Y/n: you cooked last time 😞 Minho: and you loved it so I'll cook again. it’s no big deal.  Y/n: are you sure? Minho: I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t Y/n: Okay. thank you min Minho: no problem. I’ll see you after your meeting 

     Minho packed up his stuff and checked on Y/n before leaving for the day. Making his way to the store to pick up a few ingredients before heading home. 

     Taking care of the groceries before hopping in the shower to wash the day off. Putting on a plain t-shirt and some sweats then walking into the kitchen. Putting on a playlist while he cooked. Getting a bit of a head start before Y/n knocked on his door. 

     Minho cleaned off his hands before answering the door. Finding Y/n behind the door, in more house clothes than her business suit she had on at work. 

     “How’d your meeting go?” He asked as she stepped inside.

     “Pain in my ass,” Y/n sighed 

     “That bad?” Minho asked as he closed the door

     “Lot of denying of what he was doing over at the branch and saying he’ll sue,” Y/n sighed as she slipped her shoes off

      “I’m sorry,” Minho sympathized and wrapped her up in his arms. 

     “Just my job,” Y/n sighed, wrapping her arms around him

     “Want some wine while I finish cooking?” he asked

     “Yes please.” 

     Minho led her into the kitchen and poured them both a glass of wine before he went back to cooking. Steering the conversation away from work for the rest of the night ending up on the couch together watching a movie. His arm wrapped around her as she leaned into him. 

     “Thank you for cooking again tonight,” Y/n told him. 

     “Any time,” Minho told her

     Y/n looked up at him and smiled. Minho smiled back and laid his forehead on hers. “Wanna stay the night?” he asked 

     “Want me to stay the night?”

     “Not admitting that.”

     “I’d love to stay the night,” Y/n laughed

     Minho smiled and pulled her closer to him. Y/n smiled and cupped his face in her hands.

     “Can I kiss you?” Minho asked after a moment of silence between them 

     “Thought I told you you didn’t need to ask,” Y/n said

     Minho leaned in, capturing her lips between his. Their lips moved in sync as his hand dropped from her shoulder to her waist. Pulling her just slightly closer to him. 

     Y/n swung her leg over his lap and pulled herself on top of him and he grabbed her hips and pulled her closer to him. 

     Y/n pressed her lips back onto his as he kept a grip on her hips. Hands slipping down to her ass and grinding her against him. Y/n moaned into his mouth as her hands slipped into his hair, lightly tugging on the roots. 

     Minho ran his tongue over her bottom lip before pushing his tongue into her mouth. Y/n pushed her tongue against his, the two muscles dancing together between them before Y/n pulled away to catch her breath.

     Minho attached his lips to her neck, moving one hand from her ass to hold the back of her head. Tilting her head back a bit, allowing himself more room to work with. 

     “All mine,” Minho mumbled against her skin on instinct

     Y/n felt her body heat up as the words passed through her ears. There’d only been a few other times she and Minho had slept together but she’d never heard any possessiveness out of him— even though he warned her he was the possessive type. But the two little words did something to her. 

     “‘m yours,” Y/n moaned. 

     Y/n watched him pull back from her neck and looked up at her. “Yeah? My pretty kitten?” he smiled, watching her face flush ever so slightly 

     “Mhmm,” Y/n answered 

     “Be my girlfriend?” he asked, gently kissing the side of her neck 

     “Yes,” Y/n answered before he pulled her back down to his lips. His tongue found its place in her mouth again. 

     Y/n moaned into his mouth as his hands crept up her shirt. His warm hands gave her goosebumps. Y/n tipped his head back a bit, deepening the kiss. Minho smiled and dipped his fingers under the band of her bra before he pulled back from her lips to attach them to her neck again. 

     Y/n let out a soft moan as he gently sucked on the skin below her ear. Kissing the mask before moving down and adding another. 

     “Min,” Y/n whined as she pulled up the back of his shirt. 

     “Yeah, kitten?” he asked

     “Bed,” Y/n briefly said

     “Need daddy to pound you into his bed again?” 

     “Mhmm.”

     “Words, kitten.”

     “Yes. Please, Daddy.”

     “Good girl.”

     Minho grabbed her thighs and stood up with her. Y/n quickly wrapped herself around him as he smiled. Walking her to his room down the hall before pinning her down onto the bed. Grabbing the back of his shirt and pulling it over his head, tossing the material to the side. 

     Y/n smiled at him as he leaned back down and kissed her again. Moving one hand up her shirt again and cupping one of her breasts. Gently massaging the mound as his lips moved in sync with hers. 

     “Min,” Y/n whined against his lips 

     “Making you feel good, kitten?”

     “Mhmm.”

     Minho pulled away from her lips and sat up, “How about you strip for me? Let daddy see you, mhm?”

     Y/n eagerly stripped off her clothing, tossing it elsewhere in the room as her boyfriend watched her, palming his bulge through his gym shorts. Smiling as she laid back flat on the bed. 

     “So obedient,” Minho chuckled as used his free hand to gently rub over her clit as he got down on his stomach. Getting face to face with her cunt. 

     Y/n watched as his hands trailed up her body as he leaned in and tentatively licked her folds. Y/n let out a small moan as she grabbed his hands, guiding them up to her breasts. Feeling his lips wrap around her clit. 

     His hands gripped her breasts as he sucked on the bundle of nerves. Rubbing his thumbs over her nipples as he let his tongue roam over her clit and hole. Teasing her by dipping the tip in before pulling away and sitting up. 

     Y/n watched him sit up a bit before bringing a hand back down to her clit. Two fingers ran between her folds before he leaned down and let a glob of spit fall from his lips and onto her clit. Y/n jerked at the contact before he spread it over her. Dipping one finger into her. 

     Y/n arched her back slightly as he curled his finger up into her. Spreading her legs open more with his other hand. 

     “More, please.” Y/n begged 

     “Greedy kitty needs another finger in her?” Minho laughed yet complied. Pushing a second finger inside her. Feeling her clench around his fingers as he slowly worked her open. Leaning over her body before dipping his head down. Taking one of her nipples into his mouth. 

     Y/n wrapped her arms around his head and lightly tugged on his hair. “Fuck,” Y/n whined as his fingers barely grazed the soft spot inside her.

     Minho chuckled as he lightly bit her nipple before pulling away from her and releasing the bud. He lightly blew on the skin and watched it pebble. Minho smiled and gave the same treatment to the other nipple as his palm pressed against her clit, rubbing the bud ever so slightly. 

     Every single whine was music to Minho’s ears. Picking up his pace as her walls grasped his fingers before he felt her cum coat his fingers. “Good girl,” Minho praised her as she rode out her orgasm. 

     He kissed up her chest to her neck and pulled his fingers out of her. Hovering his fingers over her mouth. Y/n opened her mouth and wrapped her lips around his fingers. Cleaning them off before he pulled them out of her mouth with a smile. 

     He leaned over and grabbed a condom from his bedside table before sitting up on his knees. Minho pulled his shorts and boxers down. Y/n watched him spring up from the fabric, red tip leaking with precum. 

     Minho tore open the foil and grabbed the rubber. Tossing the packaging to the side and rolling the rubber down his length. Stroking himself as she held her legs open for him. Chuckling a bit as he lined the tip up at her whole 

     “Imagine if the whole office knew their boss was such a whore for her secretary,” he teased, pushing himself into her fully 

     Y/n moaned as her walls hugged his cock. He grabbed hold of the back of her knees and pushed her legs down more. 

     “Fuck,” Y/n groaned 

     Minho pulled back and started thrusting into her. Starting at a slower pace and gradually picking up. “Been thinking about this all day. Walking into the office in that damned skirt.”

     “Should’ve fucked me— oh fuck— on my desk.” Y/n moaned 

     “Yeah? Want me to bend you over your desk? Fill you up in the morning with my cum instead of bringing you coffee?”

     “Yes!” 

     Minho smiled as he moved one hand down and rolled his thumb over her sensitive clit again. Moans leaving her lips that he was sure his neighbors would complain about later but he didn’t care all too much at the moment. 

     His own moans left him as she squeezed him. Her cunt fluttered around him as he pulled a second orgasm from her. Her body was shaking under him as he picked up speed. Working himself towards his own orgasm. 

     His high hit him just as she came down from hers. Burying himself inside her as his cum filled up the rubber. His hand grabbed onto the sheets under her as he rode out his high. Occasionally thrusting into her before he was finished. 

     “Is it too soon to say I love you?” Minho asked

     “I don't think so,” Y/n said

     Minho leaned down and kissed her for the umpteenth time that night. Though, much slower this time. Y/n wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he hooked her legs around his waist. “I love you,” Minho mumbled against her lips

     “I love you too,” Y/n mumbled back

     Minho pulled back and looked down at her, “Let me get you cleaned up.”

     “Mhmm was hoping for round two,” Y/n said

     “We’ve got all night. Don't worry about that,” Minho smiled 

     “How about all weekend?” Y/n asked

     “Like that even better.”

     Y/n smiled before he pulled out of her. Getting up to grab a towel, and coming back to clean her up. 

☾ ━━━━━━ M.LIST    TIP JAR

☾ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback

© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[planetdream]

PLUTO !

CHARACTERS ! vampire!lee minho, human!reader [ft. human!kim seungmin, servant!han jisung]

GENRE ! horror/thriller—vampire!au. “romance”. smut. minors dni.

SYNOPSIS ! when your fiancé, seungmin, fails to return home after notifying you of his departure from count minho's estate, you decide to search for answers yourself.

WORDS ! 12.2k more or less

THIS FIC CONTAINS ! writing inspired by the various varieties of dracula. horror [vampirism. gore—body horror: details of blood and bloodsucking. spiders. strange creatures. nightmares and overall very lucid dreams. allusions to character death.] hypnosis. hallucinations. manipulation and gaslighting. kidnapping? and references to religion [christianity/catholicism], prayers and comparisons to a Higher Power™. mentions of food. infidelity and smut [one wet dream. pussy eating—a lil bush appreciation. hair pulling. big dick minho. grinding. fingering. worship. term master used once. degradation—whore shaming. choking. nipple play/breast fondling. lots of spit. squirt n cum.]

💌 extremely self indulgent. all the thanks and love in the world to the homie, @cosmicbyeol for beta-ing for me n overall being an incredible help !!! 🥺 also, as always, accepting feedback and constructive criticism!!

The last three weeks have been weary, to say the least. You had been elated as your fiancé, Seungmin, was scheduled to arrive back in the city after a nearly two-month-long business trip. With the day of his return steadily approaching, you found yourself excitedly performing various small tasks in preparation for the moment you finally see him again. Then the big day arrives and Seungmin is nowhere to be found. No big deal; perhaps his arrival is a bit late, or he may need time to himself to unwind after long travels. If anything, he’ll show up at your door the next day with flowers and a gift, ready to tell you all about his journey and the people he’d made connections with. 

Then the fourth day comes, and by that point, you’re knocking on his front door but to no answer. You stroll past his home on your evening walks and the lights aren’t on. You’ve revisited the post office, checked in with relatives; and still, nothing. Seungmin is seemingly lost to space and time. By the sixth day, you’ve written a letter to Count Minho, the friend and business partner that Seungmin had been staying with; explaining the situation and the fact that you’ll be visiting while in search of Seungmin. 

Count Minho is a mystery to you. Seungmin never spoke with you about his relations with the Count, and you never pried into the specifics of his work business. From what you do know, Seungmin’s work involves him being in contact with several different people from real estate to archaeologists and historians, to priesthoods and other religious leaders. You simply assumed Count Minho had been one of the aforementioned, or possibly an artifact seller or buyer; as Seungmin is interested in the hobby himself, and has countless other buyers and sellers he knows. While the Count is a mystery, you feel that there is a possibility that he can lead you back into the arms of your lover. 

After a few days of planning and packing, you finally decide to get started on your journey. By the Sunday of the third week, you’re lodging with some very nice people in the town nearest to Count Minho’s estate—which is only about a two-hour distance away—you choose to stay in the village to get the word out about Seungmin. 

The townsfolk are a welcoming and lively bunch. You were fed, rested, and told stories of both local legends and the juiciest gossip around town. On the eve of your final night in town before you join the Count, you mentioned him, and the room fell silent. A feeling of unease weaved its way into the small kitchen you’d been standing in. The two women beside you failed to meet your gaze. You had already been told of the creatures said to be lurking through the forests between town and the area of the Count’s estate. A classic story of a wolfman who is out to kidnap unsuspecting young men and women; only brought up because of very recent alleged sightings. 

A third woman finally spoke up. Urging you to forego your plan of visiting what she called such a vile and off-putting man. There’s a legend about the man who lives in the castle at the edge of the forest—whom you presume to be Count Minho—who comes into town during the night of the first full moon of the spring season, with the sole purpose of terrorizing people in their homes; feasting on their organs and drinking their blood. The last occurrence happened nine springs ago: a family of five, two completely drained of blood and tossed to the side, with another two torn piece-by-piece; left mixed in a pool of wasted blood. There had been one remaining survivor, eyes removed from their sockets, who only could say one thing: “He called himself God.”

Though the story terrified you—you refused to let that stop you. If Count Minho is some extraordinary beast, then let you be the one to stop him if it means you get to become one with Seungmin again. 

Alas, the day to meet Count Minho has come, and the women you shared dinner with last night are appalled to hear that you were insistent on making your way to Count Minho’s estate. Knowing that they cannot stop you, they wish you luck and pray for you, gifting you a crucifix for safety on your journey. 

By the time you approach Count Minho’s estate, it is about an hour after sundown. The sky begins to dim rapidly, as the former golden-pink hue of the sky begins to turn into a deep purple and later fading into black. The temperature drops by the hour but thankfully the winter season is coming to an end. The snow is already clearing up, and in a couple days it will have been long gone and forgotten for generous showers of rain. 

Your arrival, predestined and arranged to be brought by carriage, led you here. And as you pull into the gates of the estate, an unsettling feeling hits you. Deep in the pit of your stomach as if something had crawled inside of you and is now scratching to be freed. Despite that, the feeling of discomfort quickly begins to wash over you, seemingly dispersing into fascination—like a group of butterflies or a bouquet of flowers flourished within your body and spirit. You feel a lot lighter, elevated as if a veil was pulled over you. 

You can hardly see the castle in the darkness, but if you strain your eyes hard enough, you may be able to see the silhouette of the grand estate. Though that’s no use, the surrounding forest, and deep black sky work as a void, shielding away any ounce of natural light, encompassing the castle within its secrets. The moon, nearly full, and friendly to those who respect it, is useless as the structure of the castle casts away the inquisitive nature of the celestial body—nothing will be brought to light or justice tonight. 

The carriage, drawn by three black horses, halts in front of the main entrance. Several long, white, cylinder candles light up the main door of the Count’s castle. The entrance is similar to that of a cathedral’s—two heavy-looking doors adorned with indescribable red patterns; swirling into shapes that seemingly recreate human-like faces. It’s vague. At a simple glance, the patterns reflected by the candlelight look like faces, but the longer you look at them you realize otherwise. The patterns seemingly have no rhyme or reason, endless red swirls that are simply just decorations. 

Atop the door is a large arch, and in the dead center is a sculpture of a man—perhaps it’s of the Count. In the brief flicker of the flame, you can see the face of the sculpture. Its face is horrid, angry even; a permanent scowl displayed. But in that short second, you notice its eyes, big and red, fixated directly on you. There’s a chill that runs down your spine in that brief moment of eye contact. And while every nerve in your body warns you, there are matters that the Count needs to assist you with that are bigger than just a feeling. 

In your deep thought, one of the doors opens with a loud screech, almost like the scream of someone. It garners a gasp from you, shaking you out of your head and back into reality. Before you know it, your feet are moving faster than your brain and you step out of the carriage. Collecting your bags and holding them tightly, thanking the coachman for bringing you safely. As you turn back to the door, it’s open wider than before, but still, the Count is nowhere in sight. 

You walk closer, hand reaching up to touch the door and you enter, eyes unable to find a resting place. There are candles everywhere, several of them as if there are no electrical lights within the place, despite the huge chandelier hanging from above. The smell of the place does not come from the candles—it’s something else that draws you in, a familiar scent perhaps from your past, but you’re unable to put your finger on it. You step further into the home and when you do, the door behind you slams shut, making you jump and turn back. 

The slam is followed by an unsettling silence, practically deafening. You call out. 

“Hello?” You look around. Just ahead of you is a long hallway, lit up with candles. You’re not sure how long the hallway is, as at a certain point, the light from the flames is no longer visible, fading into a pitch-black blanket. The walls are decorated with cobwebs and a boring gold and red damask; the colors are fading, or at the very least very dusty and in need of upkeep. The floorboards are wooden and when you shift, they make an awful creaking noise. This castle has been around for a long time—centuries even, likely and believably kept within the Count’s family. Modernity has not caught up to it. 

“Hello?” You begin again. “I’m Y/N. I wrote to you a few weeks ago as I had some inquiries for you about Seungmin.” 

Your voice trails off. There’s a cloud of unease that reigns above you, and still, as you stand in the foyer of this already strange place, there’s a familiar warmth that surrounds you. When you breathe in, your chest expands, hair brushing against your neck as you sigh in both contentment and exhaustion. 

“Good evening,” You heard his voice, but you hadn’t heard him come over. “I have been expecting you.”

You open your mouth to speak, but any aforethought words get caught in your throat at the sight of him. He’s gorgeous. Absolutely stunning. You catch his eyes immediately, locked into his stare, lost in the deep sands of his chocolate brown eyes. There’s a soft yet teasing nature behind them and it draws you in, latching onto you. He looks to be a lot younger than the age you heard him to be. His lips curve into a smile as he sticks his hand out for you to shake. Though, quite frankly, you’re not sure if you’re supposed to bow to him or not. 

“Yes, um,” You shake his hand, giving a small, shy smile. You’re unable to take your eyes off of him. 

“Come on. You must be cold and tired, let us go sit.” He speaks before you get the chance, letting you collect your thoughts. “Feel free to leave your things there. They will be collected.”

You nod, setting your belongings down and following Count Minho deeper into the castle. You’re unsure if it is because you’re a bit tired, or some very serious architectural error, but the interior of the castle is like a labyrinth of sorts. The Count opens a door you initially assumed to be a room—but instead turned into another hall of rooms. He turns left on his heels and into a side room, you follow along. 

The room you enter is small but comfortable enough for three or four people to have their space. Ahead of you are big windows, covered with thick black curtains that scrape against the floor. To your right is a fireplace, a huge flame already burning and keeping the room nice and toasty. On the right are three large bookcases that reach the ceiling, the multicolored spines of the books add little pops of color. In front of you are two velvet chairs facing the fireplace, divided by a porcelain side table and atop of it are two books and a tea set. 

The room is very neat overall. A couple of misplaced books here and there, sat on the floor. Otherwise, it’s eerily neat. As if the Count rarely uses the room but chronically dusts because everything is just for decoration. The Count takes a seat and as he beckons you over, eyes diverted from your face, as he pours you a cup of tea. You move hastily, sitting at the chair across from him. 

“Hibiscus,” He says, a small smile on his face. “It also seems that I’m forgetting my manners. Those in the town call me the Count, however, you are welcome to call me Minho.”

“Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to meet with and host me,” You begin, ready to get to the point. The Count—Minho—nods. “As I mentioned in the letter sent, I’ve arrived here to look for my fiancé, Seungmin. I’ve only received letters from his arrival and departure, and not many in between those times; which is unlike him on his usual work trips. It’s been weeks now, three to be exact. And since you are a friend of his, I was hoping you knew of his whereabouts.” 

“I fear I will be of little to no help to you, my dear.” His choice of words, while peculiar, are selected carefully. “Seungmin is a near and dear friend to my heart and I truly hope that he is safe, wherever he may be. The thing I can say is, he had been acting a bit—” He pauses, seemingly pondering on the right word to say before continuing. “A bit…abnormal.”

“He had been here at your home for nearly two months, what exactly do you mean by abnormal?” You inquire, pressing Minho to say more, not caring of how your tone might sound.

“He began to have these dreams, and some active hallucinations. Completely plagued by them. Night terrors, I’d say. He feared whatever he had seen, and while he initially confided in me about it, he soon concluded that I was untrustworthy. Somehow, Seungmin lost touch with reality.” 

Plagued by nightmares is something that you take note of. A month into Seungmin’s stay at the Count’s castle, you began to have these vivid dreams. Some good, some horrendously terrifying and, well, a large percentage of particularly electrifying dreams. The most recent—waves crashing together on a violent stormy night on the sea. You’re aboard a ship, standing in the center of the forecastle, and all around you are piled up bodies; and there’s blood on your hands and arms, staining your skin. Blood soaking into the fabric of your clothing. It felt immensely real. You felt the unease of the rocking boat, you heard the crashing of the waves and the squawks of the birds circling overhead. Weirdest of all, you could smell the blood; almost craving it. The dream ends with the sounds of a heart beating and the rushing of blood flooding to your brain. And then there’s nothingness. 

The Count takes a sip of his tea, and you choose to follow suit. Though, the tea is bitter, even with the added sugar, and not slightly tart as Hibiscus tends to be. Quite frankly, the taste is gross, but you drink out of respect. You do your best to keep a straight face at the taste, quickly setting down the cup. A small smile appears on Minho’s face, exhaling with a short laugh. 

There’s a knock at the entrance of the door. In the frame of the door stands a slender figured man who seems to be a tad shorter than the Count. He’s rather cute with his medium length hair and round cheeks, though he wears a blank expression on his face. He turns to you, doing a brief bow and opening his mouth to speak. 

Minho interjects first, walking towards the other man. “This is Han. Very simply, Mr. Han is my servant. Forgive me, Han here, was supposed to see to your arrival, but he had other obligations to take care of.”

The two look at each other, but only the Count smiles. Han keeps the same stoic facial expression, looking more exhausted than anything. The Count begins speaking once again. “Y/N, here, is the fiancé of Mr. Kim. You remember Mr. Kim, don’t you, Han? Y/N informs me that Mr. Kim didn’t arrive safely back home, now is that right?”

The Count looks to you, and you stand from your seat, nodding. “I’ve gotten a letter of his departure but he hasn’t been home yet,” You let out a deep sigh. “I just miss him so much. I hope that he’s safe wherever he is.” 

The air in the room is thick with tension. For the three of you, this has to be an outstanding situation right? For you, as young as you are, to have the love of your life—the man you plan to marry and give yourself to—to go missing without much word. And for the Count, who has been a longtime friend of Seungmin, having to deal with the weight of potentially being the last one to see Seungmin. 

“A friend of Count Minho is a friend of mine,” Jisung smiles. “I’ll do my best to help you find Mr. Kim.” 

Han and the Count step off to the side to exchange words briefly. Han turns to leave and the Count turns back to you. “Hungry by chance?”

The dining room is rather spacious, and includes a fireplace, which seems to be a running theme within the Castle. The wooden floor panels are mostly covered by a large, deep red rug. Red is the main color of the decor of the room; the velvet dining chairs and all the flowers,—from the pansies to the roses—even the dinner plates; are red. Despite this, it’s clear that Count Minho has quite a bit of money to have afforded all of this: from paintings to small artifacts that decorate end tables and small statues of gargoyles. Perhaps he is indeed a collector of sorts. 

Minho pulls out your chair, pushing it back in once you’re seated. He then takes his seat at the other end of the table. There’s a spread of food on the table and various bottles of wine, to which the Count motions for you to help yourself to. After making yourself a plate, you pour yourself a glass of wine—a red, twirling the liquid within the glass, foregoing the tradition of smelling the aroma and instead shooting it straight back. The wine is rather sweet and washes down smoothly; more like juice than a wine. 

Count Minho watches you eat with inquisitive eyes, studying you. He drinks from his wine glass as he stares at you. “What exactly do you know about your fiancé’s career?”

You meet his gaze, eyes fixated on you with a squint; it all makes you a bit uncomfortable. It’s like Minho can read every bit of you with just a simple look. 

“Not very much.” You admit. 

“Oh?” The Count is especially interested now. “Had he told you anything about me then?”

“No. Only that you were a long-time friend.” You pour another glass of wine. “Although..”

You trail off, unsure of if you should mention the story you heard from the town. You look at the Count, and he raises an eyebrow to you. 

“I had been staying in the town nearby for a few days before coming here. And well, I’m not too sure how to explain it. The only things I know of you come from word of mouth, and well, they aren’t very good.”

“Go On.”

You recite to him the story you had been told about the man in the castle who would come into the town and terrorize its citizens. At the end of the story, Minho erupts in laughter. He’s holding his stomach and chuckling, wiping faux tears from his eyes. 

“Let us just say, I have more valuable things to do than whatever that is,” Minho rolls his eyes. “I only ask because you intrigue me. That, and I never thought of Seungmin as someone who would lie to their lover, really.”

The word lie is interesting. You’d always perceived Seungmin to be an honest man, really. The two of you forged your relationship on the basis of being fully honest with each other. You never thought you would ever come close to doubting Seungmin nor his truthfulness, his faithfulness even; but Count Minho’s tone of voice—the seriousness coating every bit of breath he takes—along with the fact that you don’t truly know of Seungmin’s work, has you second guessing yourself. Now it’s your turn to press him. 

“Continue.”

“I’m saying, you don’t know what the man does for a living but you choose to throw away all inhibitions and potentially roll yourself into danger for a man you almost transparently know next to nothing about.” The Count pauses to sip more of his wine. “Seungmin was into things of the rather unusual variety, I’ll have you know. If you want, I can show you the things that he and I were discussing.” 

You take Minho up on his offer, and he gives you a small smile in return. 

“While I’d love to get to work on such matters tonight, I’m afraid I must go to sleep. I have some important matters to tend to in the morning. Shall I show you where you’ll be staying?”

—

You follow Minho, out of the dining room and down the endless hallway. The wallpaper is practically peeling, and the higher ceiling riddled with cobwebs notably hasn’t been cleaned up in quite a longtime. The obvious decades old paintings that were placed against the walls had been covered in dust and grime, dimming the vibrancy intended by their various artists. He then stops at a white door, turning the knob to open it. The room is dark and cavernous, but with the help of a lit candle sharing its warmth with the candles previously naked and cold, you see that it’s actually quite spacious and bright. White and light brown decor gives the room a light and more alive look in comparison to the thick dreariness of the parts of the castle you’ve seen so far. It’s almost like venturing into another world, or peeking back into an oddly shaped past. 

“Breakfast will be served early in the morning. Sleep well.” And with a smile, Minho exits, closing the door behind him. 

In the silence, thoughts begin to fester, nipping away at your well-being. You’ve gotten next to nothing so far from this meeting with the Count, but tomorrow is a new day and you hope he can give you insight into this world of Seungmin that seems to be unraveling. It’s confusing—for a brief moment you find yourself questioning your decisions. Have all of your life choices led you to this exact moment? The Count is vague in his ways of doing things—it’s like he’s not even trying to hide the potential of his true nature. He appears like any other person, but there’s something more to him than what meets the eye. You’ve been caught in a web of mystery, slowly sinking deeper and deeper.

You find that your bags are sitting next to the bed and you reach in to find your night clothes. Once you lift your shirt over your head, you cannot help but feel like eyes are watching you. Covering yourself, you scan the room in an attempt to soothe your psyche, and as expected, you remain completely alone. Shaking the feeling, chalking it up to being nervous about being in yet another new place, you continue to change your clothing. Sitting at the edge of the bed, you reach into your bag to pull out a letter you received from Seungmin. 

“My dearest heart, 

There is not a moment that goes by where I am not thinking of you. On my lonely and rather daunting work evenings, I look to the sky and am reminded that we share the same view together. You are the one thing keeping me balanced and sane. I know that you are waiting for me to return, and I want nothing more than to return to the safety of your warmth. Until then, look to the sky and be reminded of me. 

K.S”

Once finished reading, you press the letter against your chest. The second to last letter you received. Initially, it was rather hard to sleep at night after you received it. You had longed for your lover—missed his existence to no end, and you still do. There is nothing in the world that you would rather have than the gift of your lover returning to safety. You long for Seungmin, aching for the chance to finally touch him again. To hug, to kiss, to feel every inch of him once again. Today marks the third week since you had last heard from Seungmin, and from tonight onward, you demand to get the answers you deserve. 

You gently place the letter onto the nightstand. You kneel onto the floor, elbows pressed against the bed with your hands together in prayer. You had never been religious, nor, in a situation in which you felt you needed to pray before—but it has become a habit of the last few weeks. Closing your eyes, you inhale deeply. 

“Dear God,” You begin. “Please align me with my lover. Please return him to me safely.”

Pulling back the covers, you snuggle into the bed, drifting off into an idyllic night's sleep. 

You’re stuck. Seemingly, your body is paralyzed; hands resting at your sides, legs pressed together. You try to move, starting with a pinky and then your foot, but the longer time goes on, the more your ability to move lessens. Unable to even move your head left or right. You’re completely stuck. Not to mention, stuck in some complete void of a room, unable to see anything. 

There’s a vibration around you. It’s a subtle vibration, though you can feel your body swaying back and forth as if suspended in the air somehow. Just then, there’s a spotlight. It shines in your face before spirling in circles, lighting up various parts of the area you are in; but still, there’s nothing but darkness, even in the brightness of the light. Just until you view a quick flash of something briefly catching the light. The light runs from the figure before spinning back to shine itself on the mystery. 

Despite its distance away, you can see the thickness of the short hairs that decorate the body of the arachnid. The many eyes of the spider sparkle in the light, its eight moving legs speeding their way over to you. You watch as it clicks its mouth, salivating as it makes its way to its fresh catch. 

Here you are: a mere fly in the realm of the spider. 

At a blink of an eye, the spider is circling you, inching closer and closer until you can no longer see it from your horizontal position. Suddenly! It lurches, jumping atop of you. The spider sinks its fangs into you, piercing your skin harshly, burning. The attack against your skin causes blood to splash everywhere, spraying onto your face and body. You shriek in horror—attempting to send signals for your body to wake up from its terror. Your entire body burns; throat dry and brittle from yelling so much. The area around where the spider’s fangs are latched inside of you, both itches and stings. Feels like you’re getting pumped for your blood yet also injected with its venom. 

If possible, your body gets stiffer. Cold. Vision fading.. And fading until there’s nothingness. All you can feel is the body of the eight-legged creature draped over you; taking and taking freely. 

Despite the nightmare, you feel rather refreshed waking up. A minimal amount of light shines through the curtains. Stepping out of bed to the faint smell of food, you yawn and stretch briefly before heading to the closed door. Stepping into the hall from the confines of the room you spent the night in, you take a few steps across the hall to look out into the window. It looks bright and comfortable outside, a stark difference between the drab, dreariness of the castle’s interior. 

When you arrive at the dining room, there’s a full spread of food. Toast, tea, and a plethora of fruits and berries. In the daylight, the interior of the dining room looks a lot dustier, as if it's barely used. And to be fair, it seems as though only the Count and his dedicated servant occupy the estate. Which you wonder about—does Count Minho have no family? And what about Mr. Han? Any lovers? Who exactly is the Count and what was Seungmin’s business with him?

“Will Count Minho be eating with us?” You ask as you take a seat. 

“Sir is taking care of some business this morning. This breakfast is all yours.”

“You won’t be eating?” 

“Ah,” Jisung sighs with a smile. “I had a big breakfast earlier.”

With that, Jisung lets you begin eating. He simply just stands there, and while his eyes aren't on you, you can feel him observing your presence, similar to Minho. 

“So, Mr. Han,” Playing with your food as you speak. “How long have you worked for Count Minho?”

“Only a few years. Feels like a lifetime, though,” He turns to you, a small smile on his face. 

“Are you also a friend of Seungmin?”

“I’d only spoken to Mr. Kim a few times before his most recent visit. I typically stay out of all of Count Minho’s business affairs. I prefer to deal with the home side of things,” Jisung nods. “Speaking of, you’re free to explore the castle if you’d like. The Count won’t return until later.”

“Really? Are you sure he’ll be okay with it?” The opportunity to explore this grand castle piques your interest. You raise your eyebrow towards Han and he nods in response. 

“It’s no problem, really. To warn you, some rooms aren’t used as much anymore so they might be a bit untidy. Almost time for some spring cleaning.” Han gives you a short, dorky laugh. He’s adorable, if that’s the word. He seems to be on the more timid side, probably doesn’t speak to many people other than Count Minho on any given day. “Jisung, by the way, you can call me that.” 

“It’s nice to officially meet you.” You smile. “Can I ask you one more thing?”

Jisung nods. 

“What room did Seungmin stay in?”

“The room that you are staying in.”

The castle looks rather different during the daylight. The hallways feel hollow, completely blank despite the moderate amount of clutter in the form of various books and paintings littering the sidelines. While the idea of a large estate is stunning, it is clearly a bit too much for only the Count and Mr. Han. You wonder if Count Minho has been previously married—or even married at all; to be fair he looks a little young, but it’s possible he’s had a lover in the past. Perhaps that’s why he’s so understanding of your pursuit to find Seungmin. 

You return to your room. Beginning at the bedside table, you tour around the room, looking for clues that might help you. Searching the dressers in the room, you make your way over towards the small desk in the far corner. Opening the drawers of the desk, there remains nothing but untouched letter paper. Scanning the area for any unchecked marks, your eyes fall towards the bed. Dropping to your knees, you crawl the short distance to the edge of the bed. Pulling the bed skirt up in anticipation only to be left with nothing but dust bunnies. This initial search leaves you empty handed but you go off to make your way through the rest of the Castle. 

The castle is indeed like a labyrinth. Some doors open to an empty, decrepit room of various doors. Admittedly, you’re a bit too afraid to open one of the random doors. You’re not familiar with the layout of the estate, and you refuse to get too deep into this trap of a home. One door opens to a windowless room, and the singular wooden chair in the middle causes you to back out of said room slowly. 

Continuing on your pursuit through the endless halls of Count Minho’s estate, you approach a doorless room. Without needing to walk in, you can tell by the bookcases that it’s a library of sorts. Making your way through the entryway of the library, you find that the temperature of the room is noticeably colder than the hall. The library has dark wooden shelves filled with books from the ceiling to the floor, and you know that if Seungmin was here, he’d be able to tell when and where the shelves were constructed. He would always pick up little pieces of knowledge like that—claiming that he didn’t know why yet, but knowing such would help further him in life; and importantly, in his studies. 

You run your fingers over the spines of the books as you stroll your ways through the library. There are books spanning across language and subject—the majority of it, completely unidentifiable to you. 

You come across a leather-bound book displayed on one of the bookshelves, cover forward. It’s dark, dusty, and might even be a little dirty. The cover of the book itself is twisted, the skin of the book twists and dives into different layers, somehow folding the cover of the book inside of itself. It’s complex and strange, unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. Just to hold it, the weight of the book is heavy, somehow warming up in temperature. To feel the book, to hold it in your hands, it intrigues you just as much as it disgusts you. 

The language of text presented on the pages is unknown to you. The drawings that accompany the writings, however, are disturbing. Dark and detailed illustrations of creatures that you would never have thought of. Upon the first page is a visualization of a winged creature with the distant silhouette of a man. Only there’s a huge eye where the head would be, and its legs are tangled and twisted together. Turning a page, you’re presented with another drawing. An illustration in charcoal of a dark figure. The drawing looks as though it’s been drawn in haste; a rushed, frantic effort. Alongside is another illustration of a mouth—though without ink, the artist did their best to emphasize the splotches of blood that stain the mouth. What stands out the most are the set of razor sharp canines that protrude from the teeth—two sets, specifically. Beholds, the only romanization on the page: Vampyre.

A chill runs down your spine, but you’re unable to remove yourself from the grasp that the book has. Turning page after page, overstimulating yourself with various images of creatures that are likely to lurk in the shadows. The longer you examine, the more your head pounds. Nausea interrupting all plans you may have had. Head spinning and spinning, visions bending and thrawn within itself. Figments of the images you’ve viewed imprinting themselves on your vision in dark splotches like a memory. The new and the strange tangling itself within your memories, hiding within them for safe keeping. 

“Y/N?” There’s a light voice that breaks you out of your spell. 

When you come to, Count Minho is standing over you, his cold hand pressed against your forehead. You look around the room, sitting in an opposite corner of the library than you originally remembered. 

“Are you alright?” He asks. 

“I’m not too sure,” You sit up straight in your seat. You look towards the open window and the sky outside is completely dark. Somehow, it appears that hours have passed. What a freaky and strange thing. 

When you look up at Minho from your position on the chair, you’re immediately pulled into the pools of his eyes, locked in. “You must be hungry, yeah? It’s dinner time.” 

Just like last night, Minho leads you to the dining room. Just like last night, he slides your chair out and pushes it in for you. The spread of food tonight is different from last night, and you notice that some of the decor around the room looks different as well. Your vision hasn’t quite recovered from its hectically blurred state, and in your moment of disillusion, none of this interests you.

“Is there something wrong?” Minho asks as he sits. What isn’t wrong? You feel a rather painful shift in your own mood. 

“I think I might be a bit tired.” You exhale. Despite aching for the continuous pursuit of knowledge, sickness continues to trail behind you. Uncertainty creeping its way up to the forefront of your thoughts. You’re unable to escape the feeling that there might be something seriously wrong. Anxiety rests in the pit of your stomach, slowly eating away at you. Refusing to look at Minho, you pick at the food on your plate. Honestly, you feel rather sick. Your vision, while still painfully blurry, continues to spin ever so slightly. Placing your hand flat against your forehead to find that you’re burning up on flu type levels. You look across the table toward Minho and your vision doubles, triples, then suddenly you're seeing eight versions of him. 

It’s a bit of a hassle to move the heaviness of your hand, fingers slowly creeping up to grasp onto the wine glass. You close your eyes to soothe your vision, taking the glass into your hand fully. 

Minho coos. “I was really looking forward to dinner with you; but if you’re tired we can postpone our conversation.”

Taking a sip and allowing it to savor on your tongue. The slight, unsuspecting note of pomegranate makes you smile—something comforting in the mixture of mess you’re currently feeling. 

Grace be to God. When you open your eyes, your vision returns to normal. It’s something of a miracle. 

“No. It’s fine. That strange book in the library,” You look at Minho and struggle to find the words. All that remains in your head is visuals of every creature you saw depictions of. 

“What book?” He doesn’t follow. 

“It has drawings of these strange creatures in it. Some kind of horror book, I think it made me a bit sick.”

“I’ll tell Han to search for it so that I can have a look,” 

Dinner continues with only a few moments of silence. The topics range from a variety—the original focus of conversation on Seungmin before venturing off elsewhere. Count Minho gives you insight on what he does; referring to himself as someone who studies human nature, communication and our state of existence. He loves the study of humans and thus dedicates his life to it, choosing to be of help in any way he could be. Of which, is how he met Seungmin, and from there, they became partners due to their similar interests. Somewhere, is a layer of information that Count Minho refuses to give up so soon. 

“May I walk you to your room?” Minho asks, rather politely, but your room is not too far from your current position. Still, you say yes to him. 

Unlike dinner, the very short walk is in total silence, but Minho’s presence is comforting. You reach the door to your room in no time and Minho steps in front of you before you can say anything. The silence continues as Minho and you stare at each other. Though, the silence turns to static when Minho leans in to kiss you. His lips on yours and you don’t even bother to pull away. Instead, you kiss back, allowing him to deepen the kiss. He pulls away in haste, muttering a goodbye before walking off into the darkness of the hall.  

You step into your room and therefore, instantly step into a pool of guilt and confusion. Seungmin is so far from the forefront of your mind—for you to indulge in a kiss with another man and to not think once about your lover. What kind of monster have you become?

Once changed into your night clothes, you peel under the covers and you pray. You don’t feel like yourself, and the feeling creeped upon you. The thoughts in your brain are mixed together, both elaborate and unintelligible, a mixture of things you know and things you never knew. Images of those same creatures stain the darkness when you close your eyes, peeling back layers of the person you once knew to be you. Before sleep finally engulfs you, you pray for the guidance of whoever is listening. 

Minho guides you towards the bed. Red and black satin sheets fitted across the bed and the pillows. Minho pushes you against the bed and huffs out a short laugh, smirking at you. You bite your lip out of nervousness, peering up at him. 

“You’re so beautiful, my rose.” Minho’s hand is soft against the skin of your knee. Lightly, he drags his nails against your thigh, inching closer and closer to the material of your nightgown. 

Before he does anything, he leans down to kiss you; eyes closing as your lips work in sync, souls melting together. The kiss deepens for just a moment until Minho pulls back, brown eyes staring into your own. He plants one more quick kiss against your lips before his hands begin working beneath your gown. He slides your dress up to your waist, admiring the softness of your belly and the smoothness of your skin. One kiss above your navel and another kiss below, is all he lets himself have before he gets too deep into it. 

You make it easy for him, foregoing underwear to allow your lover easy access. Minho can only scoff, but he shuts himself up with another kiss to your mound. “Just for me, my dear?”

“Only you, love.” You smile at him, motioning for him to come closer. Minho, of course, follows suit. He would give you a billion and one kisses if he could. 

When the kiss breaks, Minho drags you towards the edge of the bed. Spreading your legs apart, he drops to his knees beginning his worship of your cunt. Tongue flailing out, slurping up every drop of your wetness, soft lips drenched in your flavor—and there’s no other way Minho would rather have you than at his complete surrender. His hands grip your ass, trying to push you into his face. Lips covered in slick and spit, puckering around your clit, sucking it in; Minho’s head bobbing up and down slightly, moaning into your cunt. 

“So fucking delicious,” Minho mumbles, continuing with his feast. Your hands fly to his hair, pulling with every lick and suck he gives you. Moaning freely, not caring if the entire world can hear you. In fact, maybe the entire world should hear you. 

Minho eats you sloppily, savoring not only your taste, but the feeling of your cunt against his skin. The feeling of the softness of your pubic hair against his skin is like heaven to him. Sometimes, he’ll spend time rubbing this face against the hair before he dives into your cunt. Not to mention the feeling of your juices soaking into his skin, which he’d use as a natural moisturizer if he could. Minho’s obsessed with every inch of you; from your cunt to your skin, to the very blood that courses through your veins.

His fingers push into you as his tongue swirls against your cunt. His lips suck your clit into his mouth, tongue lightly beating against the tip of the bud. Minho pushes his saliva to the front of his mouth, soaking your clit in a mixture of his spit and your juices. 

Your fingers pull against Minho’s hair, tugging harshly against his scalp but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He might even ask you to pull harder. You push Minho against your cunt, slowly grinding your hips against his face. Moans bouncing off the walls as you drip onto Minho’s tongue. Minho takes this opportunity to suck on your clit just a tad harder, triggering your pending orgasm. Eyes rolling to the back of your head allowing you to see colors as warmth rocks through your body. Limbs daring to curl together, Minho doesn’t allow you to move from the hold of his hands nor the warmth of his mouth. 

Minho slowly kisses up your body. You can feel the remnants of his kisses even after he’s long gone from a spot because of the wetness on his lips. He kisses at your neck, then your cheek, and finally your lips. Deepening the kiss as he taps his cock against your cunt, you invite him in. 

Three long orgasms later, you and Minho are snuggled in bed, snoring softly beside each other. Suddenly, you’re woken up by a loud bang. Looking to your side, you find Minho unbothered, still asleep, chest rising gently with each breath. There’s another bang, louder and possibly closer than last. You slide out of bed, looking back at Minho’s sleeping figure before making your way towards the door, hand reaching for the glass door knob. 

There’s another loud crash as you twist the handle of the door. You step into the hall of darkness, wooden floor cold against the bottom of your feet. Closing the door behind you, you venture out into the darkness. The halls of the castle are quiet, unmoving; day in and day out they remain the same, even in the dead of night. It’s rather sorrowsome, actually. So full, yet so empty—the castle feels like it's dying. 

Another loud bang. Followed by another and another. One after the other, four beats apart. The knocking appears to get louder with each step you take towards the staircase. You raise your foot to take that first step, there’s another bang once you firmly plant your foot against the stair. Quickly but carefully, you make your way up the staircase. In the near distance, towards the end of the hall presents a glimpse of golden light. 

Letting your legs guide you, you make way towards the door at the end of the hall, almost floating. The knocking doesn’t stop, getting louder and louder the closer you get to the door; but when you try to halt, you’re guided to your destination by a sudden force; body stiffening, neck making a sharp turn as you peek into the room. The crackling warmth and light emitted from the fireplace sets a gorgeous, homey scene. 

“Help.. Me..” 

Your eyes shoot towards the ground until you find the fingertips of a man laying in a puddle of blood. But before your brain can process who the person is, you’re snatched away. Falling fast into a pit of darkness. 

You awake in the dead of the night to a knocking at your door. It’s soft and subtle, but has been consistent enough to pull you from your sleep. One knock after the other, four beats between each knock. 

Tossing the covers away, you step out of bed. Muscles tough and sore, there’s an unease as you rub the sleep from your eye, feeling as though you’re encumbered in your own head. You take another heavy step, the knocking still not ceasing. One step after another until you reach the handle of the door, and only then does the knocking stop, floorboards creaking as the sound of footsteps shuffles away. 

A minute goes by until you decide to open the door. The hallway is dark, the only light is coming from the window across the hall. You look towards the moon—there she is, full in all of her glory, bringing the spring equinox along with her. You walk towards the window, looking down towards the ground and noting that the snow has completely melted. There’s a dark, shadowy figure in your peripheral that breaks your appreciation for nature. Turning in the direction, there’s nothing in the distance. You follow, passing by the kitchen and making your way to the stairs. The shadow dissolves into the darkness at the top of the stairs, beckoning you to chase after it. 

Once you reach the top of the stairs, there’s a sliver of light peering from the far end of the hallway. The trek over isn’t that long, and once you’re within a few feet you slowly approach the door, tiptoeing your way over. Creeping up to the doorframe, you hold your breath as you peek into the crack of the room. There’s not much to see, just a steady fire and its continuous cracking. Until you hear a moan and your eyes dart to the location of the sound. 

There, you spot Jisung sprawled out on the chaise, half of his limbs hanging off as Minho straddles over him. Attached to his neck, Minho wastes most of his meal, letting blood slip from his mouth and drip down Jisung’s neck. You gasp, fully taken aback by the action you are witnessing. The townspeople were right to warn you—the Count is a monster. Or maybe something worse. 

After the accidental announcement of your arrival, Jisung locks eyes with you. Your gaze, however, is stolen by Minho once he turns around, peering up from his feeding position. He’s wide-eyed with blackness covering the entirety of his eyes, lips and chin stained red with blood. Once Minho realizes it’s you who interrupted his feed, he gives you a wide, bloody smile—showing off the two sets of fangs at the top row of his teeth, the outer fangs just slightly bigger than the inner fangs. For a moment, time seems to slow down; you watch as a small droplet of blood drips from one of Minho’s fangs, and before it fully releases, Minho swipes it with his tongue, licking over his fangs for extra blood. 

Before you can turn back and run, Minho is already behind you in the blink of an eye. 

“Unfortunately, my dear, running is useless,” The Count grabs you by the collar of your pajamas and forcefully drags you into the room. You fight him off but your hits do nothing to him. Letting go of you, Minho pushes you onto the ground. “Stay.”

Jisung stands up from his position laying across the chaise, dipping a rag into a bowl of water sitting on the side table. You watch Jisung with inquisitive eyes as he wrings out the rag, carefully cleaning up the marks and the blood stained to his neck. Minho, meanwhile, is facing the fireplace with his arms crossed and one finger pressed to his lips. Jisung finishes cleaning himself up, and begins moving around to avoid eye contact with you. In horror, you watch as Jisung takes a tarantula out of its cage and places it into his mouth, chewing as he turns to walk out of the room—leaving you alone and helpless in the clutches of Count Minho. 

Minho tsks once, then once more. A hand on his hip as he shakes his head. He extends his arm, quickly swiping away all of the candles and books the rest atop the fireplace as a loud, angry cry escapes from his chest.  

“I thought that maybe,” Minho begins. “Just maybe. I’d have an extra night or two before having to do this to you. You’re a curious one, aren’t you?” 

Minho turns to you. An insincere smile on his face, fangs hidden away but some of Jisung’s blood still covers his face. You spring to your feet, not wanting to stay on the ground when it’s clear that Minho has the advantage. Backing away from him slowly, eyes searching for anything to use as a weapon, though Minho can tell your every move. 

“Did you..did you do that to Seungmin?” You’re near tears. They don’t fall, only brimming along your tear ducts. 

Minho’s jaw clenches at the mention of Seungmin. “You really do care about him, huh? Seungmin this and Seungmin that. I fear your admiration for your lover has made you blind. You have played right into the palm of my hand, little lamb.”

“You want to know where Seungmin is? He’s dead.” Minho laughs. A deep belly laugh. “Though, it wasn’t me who did it.”

“Years ago, I showed Sir Kim something that I thought he could handle, only to find out otherwise. I promised him knowledge, the freedom to view the extensive, valuable, book collection within my library, at any time he chooses; and most importantly, the opportunity to discover something otherworldly—new to him, although very old to me. Something that could provide him everything he’s ever wanted. At least, that’s what this power did for me. Seungmin wanted to become a new man, and I was the only one who could offer that opportunity.”

“Then, two months ago, Seungmin showed up at the door. Exclaiming that while he wasn’t ready in the past, this time he’s ready to surrender his soul. Turns out, it was a ploy to kill me. I should’ve known better, truthfully. Seungmin is smart, almost as cunning as I, and well, he very nearly gave me a run for my money. But let’s just say, how should I put this, I have someone who is willing to do anything I say. Including kill.”

You shake your head in disgust, backing up from Minho; but he pursues.“What are you?”

“I once referred to myself as a God. However, over the years, I realized that I am God. I have seen men with beast-like abilities and looks, men with the ability to rise from the dead, but the simple power of those imbeciles doesn’t even come close to mine. It’s something entirely different.”

“I mean, you read that book didn’t you? A dull-looking half-dead creature with fangs? You’re quite different from Seungmin, but you’re still special. You might not have understood the text, but perhaps, you used context clues?” Minho continues, “You might not have known it, but your fiancé was a part of a very dark world, angel. You see, he was actually the one that wrote the book. And he left you blind to it all, not knowing of his inevitable future. And now, yours.”

Minho winks and moves closer to you with each word, though you take steps back, not wanting to be too close to him. Eventually your back hits the wall and Minho almost pressed against you. His sharp nails come up to your neck, tracing over until he finds exactly what he was looking for, inhaling deeply. 

“Are you going to kill me, too?”

“There,” He taps the tip of his finger against your neck, just above your collarbone. The sharpness of the nail presses into your skin, breaking the initial layer, not deep enough to cause bleeding. “If I put my mouth right here, I could drain all of you in less than six seconds. Kill you? Heavens no, I actually believe that you’re pretty valuable to me.”

Minho looks into your eyes, passing along discomfort in the form of a stare. Then he pouts at you, mockingly. 

“No need to be scared. I mean, it’s not like you can ever leave me, at this point, so it’s best you put your fear aside.” Minho smirks once more. “From the night you’ve arrived, you’ve been drinking my blood. I’m already inside of you. I know every little thought in that pretty little mind of yours, I’m in all of your dreams. And guess what? You will never, ever be able to get rid of me.”

“Now tell me, has Seungmin ever touched you like this?” Minho asks, the tips of his fingers tracing against your neck, palm cupping around your throat, he stands firm behind you. There’s dense heat against Minho’s fingertips and a slight burning sensation from the sharpness of his nails; it’s such an intense feeling, unlike any you’ve experienced before. As electrifying as the feeling of his touch is, it’s also revolting, horrendous. There was a spark whenever Seungmin touched you, but Minho’s touch is different; it burns in all of the right ways. 

“I could give you things Seungmin would have never even dreamt about,” Minho’s voice is soft, silky. The heat of his breath against your skin tickles, but ignites a particular burning of desire. Minho is something similar to the devil and still, despite it all, there’s a familiar heat that creeps up within you. “I could open doors for you that were previously closed. Anything you want, could be yours. All you have to do is accept all of me.”

The hand that had previously been resting against the softness of your belly, is held out for you to accept. You stare down at his hand, biting your lip at the temptation. Minho plants his lips against your neck to give you one small kiss after another. 

For the sake of Seungmin, you want to turn away. If this had been just a few days ago, you would have likely fought in honor of Seungmin. The entire reason you’re even here, in the Count’s castle, is because of Seungmin. And still, in spite of all of that, as much as it makes you feel physically ill, stomach turning at the thought, every single fiber of your being craves Minho. You can feel the heat of your bodies meshed together every time you imagine what it’s like to have him between your legs. When he looks into your eyes, it’s familiar—like home. 

Every alarm is firing off and still, you put your hand in Minho’s—accepting his offer. Minho’s hand interlocks with yours, and you can feel him smile in between his tiny butterfly kisses. His hand holds yours tightly, as if he doesn’t want to let you go. Plump lips dragging against your skin, until he stops momentarily—taking a deep breath. Minho lets out a sharp, rich groan; knees throbbing as he bucks into you. And it’s at that moment you can feel Minho’s cock pressed heavily against your ass. Minho holds you against him, hips moving against your ass slightly, as he breathes in your scent. 

The moment is broken once you feel four razor sharp punctures in your neck. Minho’s low, guttural moans vibrate against your skin as his teeth penetrate layers of skin. The feeling is strange—it stings and burns, but also has a light cooling sensation. 

With the more blood Minho takes, the more his eyes fade into black until the whites are no longer exposed. Minho is absolutely captivated by the taste of your blood. It’s absolutely bewitching. He can taste every memory, every inch of trauma and pain, all of your love and most importantly, Minho can taste a bit of your soul—completely unguarded and vulnerable; ready for him to take and do as he pleases with. 

Minho continues draining you of your blood. It’s around this time that your vision becomes blurry, the room grows disorienting, tipping from side to side with each blink. You’re clutching Minho’s hand as tight as you possibly can be, jaw slacking and freely giving away soft moans. Even though he’s drinking from you, Minho never stops the movement of his hips. Hand clutching your own, pressing your arm against your stomach firmly. His other hand is tight on your hip, holding you in place. Somehow, your body feels both light and heavy, like you’re nailed to your spot but also elevated, floating in space. Your eyelids are getting heavier, a milky white film covering your eyes as Minho continues to take and take from you.

By the time you feel like your legs are going to give out, Minho gives up on drinking from you. “I can’t believe you’ve been hidden from me all this time, my little lamb.”

Minho whispers into your ear, voice equal parts soft and sweet. The way he can easily slip between calm and composed and dominant and overbearing is scary. 

“Let’s make this official, what do you say, love?” It’s less of a statement and more of a demand. Minho bites into his wrist, pushing it towards your mouth. But you refuse, attempting to turn away, though Minho does not allow it. Forcing your mouth open with his other hand, fingers dipping into your mouth, watching with a smirk on his face as droplets of his blood drip into your mouth one by one. 

There’s not really any significant taste to Minho’s blood. Indeed, his blood is thicker than water—but also very smooth going down. Minho spins you around, lips fast against yours. This kiss is full of iron and spit, completely messy, tongues fighting against each other. You, surprisingly to Minho, are the one who deepens the kiss further, pressing your body against his. Hands running all over his body, tugging against his clothes. 

You can feel yourself changing rapidly. Inside of you is a particular burning passion that you haven’t felt in years. It’s amplified when Minho’s fingers trickle up and down your sides. When the kiss parts, you and Minho lock eyes. Your chest rises, breathing in deeply because the room has gotten a hell of a lot hotter—or is the oxygen leaving your lungs? 

Minho takes the lead this time, pushing you atop of the sofa. He stands over you almost menacingly, clouds of lust like darkness clouding his eyes. He takes the chest of his shirt and tears it in half with two hands, as easily as it takes one to blink. He lets the shirt fall from his body, pulling his arms from the sleeves. Unbuttoning his pants just slightly before he kneels on the couch beside you. His lips on yours once again, though briefly. Minho takes the fabric of your clothing and tears it in two, just as he did his own shirt. You’re completely exposed to him, completely naked beneath his stare. You put your arms up to shield your indecency, but Minho doesn’t allow it. Taking your wrists in his hands and pinning you to the comfort of the sofa. 

Holding your wrists with one hand, Minho holds your jaw in his other hand. “Wish you could see how heavenly you look right now.” 

At this moment, Minho decides that you’re the closest he’ll ever get to heaven. So does he worship this embodiment of a higher place? Or does he further defile it? Should he ravish you? Perhaps he should take his claim over a body and soul that is now his forever. The worship may come a little later. He looks down at you, a frenzied little fledgling overtaken by uncontainable lust. A near mirroring reflection of sin itself. You pupils are completely blown and the whites of your eyes grow into a red color. He stands tall above you, like a God. Eyes of lust looking back at you, so deeply into the crevices of what’s left in your soul. 

You claw up at Minho, wanting to feel him. Wanting to be comforted by the glory that is Minho. The Ultimate Being—your master. 

“Imagine if Seungmin were to see you like this, intoxicated with such lust—and none of it towards him,” Minho kissed over the spot where he bit you, planting more kisses against your neck. “Would he be pathetic? A coward who cums in his pants at the sight of another man touching you?”

Minho’s lips move from your collarbone to your chest, displaying a range of kisses against your skin. “Or would he demean you for disgracing him in such a way? Would he call you a whore at the sight of you, turning his face in disgust?” 

Minho continues talking in between kisses against your skin. Lips kissing down the valley of your breast as his left hand creeps up to fondle your left breast. You moan at his touch, the coolness of his skin against the heat of yours. Minho looks up at you. “My precious little lamb isn’t a whore, are you?”

You shake your head vigorously at Minho’s statement. He can only laugh at you. He doesn’t believe it and deep inside, you don’t believe yourself either. 

“Your whole purpose of being here was to find your fiancé, and instead, you’re beneath me and dripping onto the chaise. That doesn’t sound like something someone who’s not a whore would do, does it, little lamb?” 

You shake your head in denial. Reaching up to him, dragging the tips of your fingers down his chest. With each exhale, with each minute that goes by, it becomes harder and harder to fight your cravings. Thrusting your hips up, gyrating in the air, trying to entice Minho into touching you. Unable to sort the words in your head to form a coherent sentence. 

“But you’re fine with being a whore aren’t you?” Minho nods, pouting just slightly. When you’re not nodding along with him, he grabs you by your hair, forcing you to nod along with him. “What a good little lamb. From here on out, you’ll only be a whore for me, ok?”

Minho releases your hair from his clutches. Licking his palm, he drags it down from your navel to your cunt, pausing a moment to bury his fingers within the hair on your mound, slightly tugging at it. He teases you for the moment; fingertips feathering lighting against the skin of your inner thighs. He brings his fingers back to your cunt, dragging down your slit, teasing into your wetness. Minho circles over your clit with two fingers, watching your face as you bite your lip. Two of his fingers slowly slip inside of you soon after, thick, already knuckle deep inside of you. 

Minho’s free hand finds a new position, tightening around your neck. The roughness of his hands is missed when he slides his hand down your chest, cupping your breast. He leans down, sucking your nipple into his mouth, coating it with saliva, teeth slightly grazing against it. He continues scissoring his fingers into you, thumb pressing down flat against your clit. Minho moves his thumb in tender circles, still applying pressure. Swollen lips leave a mess of spit on your breast, dripping onto his hand. 

He lifts his head from his original position, eyes covering every inch of you. Once his eyes land on your cunt, Minho kneels—a quick kiss planted at your clit before he attaches his mouth to it, sucking you in. Warm, wet mouth slurping and licking, voice vibrating against your cunt. You moan into your hand, but Minho snatches it away; a quick, stern look up at you. The more he hears your moans, the sluttier and messier that Minho gets; moving away slightly to spit against your cunt, watching as it drips down to his fingers. All before he’s back at it, slurping and moaning against your cunt. 

“Fucking cum,” Minho talks into your cunt. He speaks his demand into you. The climax hits you hard, cum spraying all over Minho’s face, even drenching a bit of his hair. It takes Minho and yourself by surprise, and you’re almost ready to cover your face in your hands, but Minho flashes the most gorgeous smile to you. Face soaked, licking his lips to taste more of you. 

If he wasn’t firm about his desire to devour and conquer you, he was now. Minho fully undresses himself, cock hard and heavy, leaking and aching to be buried inside of you. It’s like your minds come together. Just with a touch you know the things that Minho wants to do to you. Your desires are equal and because of it, you’re a step ahead of him. Your eyes land on him, completely sucking into the visual of his cock. Large but not too veiny, a shade or two darker than the rest of his skin and it’s absolutely glorious. He’s thick, the tip of his cock heavy and shining with precum. It’s hard to keep your appetite for lust contained, and for a moment, you wonder why you’re even holding back—you’ve seen just a glimpse of freedom, is it too much to indulge and savor the taste of what you’re becoming? 

Your movements are faster than what the logical part of your brain can comprehend. One moment you’re spread open and the next, you’re straddling Minho, hand caressing his face. Minho looks at you with such an insatiable gaze. He hadn’t read it in the cards that you could possibly take control of the situation, and it enthralls him—what a wonder you are. You grind against his cock, sliding your slick cunt across his shaft. Pressing your hands to his chest for balance, adjusting the speed of your grinding until you’ve finally found the spot that sets off the fireworks within your brain. Unfortunately, it’s not enough for Minho, grabbing your hips and pressing you onto his cock, controlling your movements. Other than the added pressure, Minho guides your hips just a tad bit faster. 

Sliding up, you reach behind to hold Minho’s cock into your hand. It has a bit of weight to it and is slick with your juices. You tap the head of his cock against your cunt a time or two, then slowly sink down, engulfing him into your cunt. The thickness of his cock gives you a fervent sensation, cunt fluttering to take more of him, inch by inch. 

You throw your head back as you continue riding Minho. There's a brief, but slight sting of pain when you open your mouth to moan. When you look towards Minho, mouth agape, he looks back at you with such adoration and awe—the first time you felt his genuineness for something other than rage.  Minho helps you continue to ride him, his hands on your hips to guide you up and down his cock. You bring your tongue up to lick your lips when you finally notice the feeling of the fangs protruding from your gums. 

The feeling of exhilaration encompasses your whole being. You can’t help but let out a laugh at the current situation. You feel elated. You feel powerful. Pure and utter bliss slowly peeking out beneath the many layers of lust. 

“Bite me, my dear, go ahead.” Minho reassures you, a hand soothingly rubbing against your thigh. 

You indulge in the opportunity. Sinking completely down on Minho’s cock, crying out at the sensation of being filled by him. You press your nose against his neck, breathing in Minho’s scent before you sink your fangs into his skin. You can feel the shift in your eyes when you drink from him. His blood tastes immaculate like this. What divine nectar he carries within. It’s insanely sweet—not exactly in a tart or sugary way; he tastes similar to fresh fruit. 

You continue to drink from him, tongue licking haphazardly, unwilling to let any of Minho’s blood go to waste. 

From his blood to his cock, Minho is all around you. You feel so full of him, and you are in every sense of the word. His arms wrap around you, caging you in as you take your time feeding from him. He moves a hand between the two of your bodies, thumb pressed against your clit to rub in circles. You gentle rock against him, slowly increasing the speed of your hips once you realize you’re fairly latched onto him. Unwilling to free him from your hold, you would die like this if needed. 

Your climax hits you and transforms you into such a state of pure ecstasy. Every nerve in your body is electrified, and the blood of Minho amplifies that. Minho has you under a spell: blood coursing through your veins, cock pinned deep, spilling his cum inside of you. He’s so cold to touch, but you’re both on fire. It’s way too much yet you’re still captivated by him. Sent into overdrive, your body gets heavier—it's hard to control and you continue to take and take from Minho. It’s no problem to him, though; hand on your back to soothe as your body becomes stiff atop of him.

You awake in Minho’s arms, not completely sure of where you exactly are. The second you open your eyes, you’re not nearly ready for how extraordinarily bright the lights in the room are. You groan in response, but Minho is alert to soothe you. 

“Be still, my little flower.” Minho is whispering, purposefully; he knows first-hand how troubling it can be to be reawakened like this. But still, his voice rings around your head. 

How strange. You can hear every little sound a lot clearer, a lot louder. The initially faint crackling of the fireplace now louder than before despite the distance. The heat of the fire reaches you as well, blazing, although it does not stick. The ticking of the clock is a doomful reminder of the passage of time. Then you look at Minho, and you can hear how hollow he is. There’s an absence within him, a huge, dark, cavernous hole. He is nothing more than a host for whatever this disease is that he has given you. A man without a soul. 

And still. He holds the entire world in his hands. 

“There’s so much I have to teach you,” Minho expresses this with great excitement. He presses a chalice of blood to your lips and just a whiff of the smell puts you in a daze; salivating and feigning to taste. “Now here, drink up.”

© PLANETDREAM 2024

[teastainedprose]

Too Sweet - Ch. 1 (Cooper Howard x Reader)

A settler selling wares in Filly catches The Ghoul's eye. Inspired by a Tumblr post asking for an angst fic to Hozier's Too Sweet. 1,753 words | [AO3] No warnings yet, only innocent flirting. Banner from @eupheme

The first time he spots you, Cooper thinks nothing of it. Sure, you look a little less worn down compared to the usual rabble roaming Filly. Certainly scrubbed a little cleaner than most but so were the rest of your companions. The lot of you are a curiosity for sure, but he's seen plenty of attractive women over the ages and known a handful carnally. He's not the sort of man to let a pretty face distract him. No, you don't get a second glance from the ghoul as he goes about his business. 

It's not until your laughter catches Cooper by the ear that he starts paying attention. Jerks his head right round at the sunny sound, attention diverting from the bounty board as he watches you engage with a customer. You laugh again, a merry delight that lights your face right up while the elderly woman you're chatting with laughs along. She's made brighter for being so close to you while you've suddenly become the sun in Cooper's eyes. A brightness he has to squint at when he looks over again to drink you in. His long-dead heart decides that it's about time to do a little flip.

That's a sensation he's not keen on feeling. Cooper hums under his breath, frown settling on his worn lips. He tugs the brim of his hat lower, turning away as he tries to focus on the task at hand. No good can come of fancying any sort of infatuation on a smoothie like you. You're not the sort of creature deserving of the trouble he could bring.

Yet Cooper finds he can't quite help himself. Wasteland life is full of little pleasures and looking at you sure counts as a bit of pleasure. Why not indulge?

The rest of the day as he sits waiting for a client to show, his eyes flicker over you. Wherever you're from, it's certainly kinder to you than what most folks in the Wasteland see. You almost look as soft as some fresh-faced Vaultie, but he can see that your hands are well-worn as you exchange produce for caps. A farmer of sorts. Homesteader.

He listens with a keener ear to the gossip swirling about you and those in your group. A little settler band situated out east, closer to the mountains and closer to what manages to grow green. He picks up that your lot wanders in every few weeks with produce to sell, or trade to stock up the settlement the collective group runs. 

Idly, he wonders what horseshit sort of ideology your commune might be sunk into, but if you're looking to spread a new sort of gospel none of your ilk seem keen on sharing it here. You're a welcome addition to the economy of Filly and it's clear that many enjoy the taste of hope this band of settlers bring in with their harvest. Cooper figures that's indoctrination enough from the harsh reality the Wasteland offers up.

Cooper finds himself wandering over to Ma June's place under the pretense of stocking up on supplies. There's suspicion in her eyes as he drops his intended purchases onto the counter but that's not out of the ordinary. There's always suspicion in the looks Ma June gives him, but she'll take his caps all the same.

"Say, now what's with that group of lil' farmers hauling in their produce like that? Can't imagine those soft-lookin' sorts making their way all the way here unmolested," he drawls out. His smile is crooked as Cooper counts through his caps to pay.

"Settlers, but the well-armed sort. No point in trifling with them. Too well-liked here for their fresh food supply they haul in," Ma June pulls the caps towards her, gaze fixed on the ghoul as she mutters. "They'll trade with ya, but keep out of their business. Ya hear?"

A hum escapes Cooper as he considers this, leaning onto the counter while glancing out the dusty window towards where you stand at the stall. He casually stashes his purchases into his saddlebag while going on conversationally.  "Well- Is that so? They a regular sort of fixture here in Filly now?"

"Have been setting up that stall going on half a year now. Surprised you've yet to come across 'em. Best cherry tomatoes you'll find in the Wasteland." Ma June eases back, arms crossing over her chest as a sour look settles in place on her worn face.

Another speculative hum escapes Cooper as he digests this information before he tips his hat to Ma June and goes on his way. Which happens to lead him straight to your stall.

Once there, Cooper casually plucks up potatoes, a handful of cherry tomatoes, and okra. All of it looks as vegetables should, the sort he would have found at the grocery store before everything went to shit. 

"How much for this lot?" He sets the small bounty atop the open space on the stall. Cooper gives you his Hollywood smile that would charm the pants off of any woman in bygone days, except now his face is a leathery wreck and his teeth are yellowed with age. Most people instantly flinch away in disgust.

Not you.

You smile like the morning sun towards him as you step closer while dusting your hands off on your pants. The bit of dirt smeared on your face only seems to enhance your features in Cooper's eyes. The look you give him is almost shy once you meet his gaze, smiling warmly up to him. 

Cooper finds that curious. He's familiar with a scowl or grimace of disgust when anyone looks him in the face, but here you are gracing him with an easy smile. A customer is a customer, he figures, and he'll do well enough. Yet, your friendliness doesn't feel like an act. Even after all these years, Cooper Howard still can clock other actors.

"Fifteen caps for the whole lot, but I'll throw in an extra sweet potato for the smile." You wink. Wink right at him as your smile grows. "They're good for ya, handsome." You add casually, the smile tugging up further into a cheeky grin. Your expression shifts. Playful. Coy. Interested.

Ain't that something? Cooper doesn't falter at the full force of your attention. He's too old and worn for that, but he sure does grin right back with a twinkle in his eye. Even an old ghoul like him can enjoy a pretty thing like you openly flirting with him.

Now that he’s heard it, Cooper decides your voice is sweet as a silver bell. The sort of soothing tone that reminds him of rain softly pelting a windowpane. It's the sort of sound that makes him wish to stay and listen for a while, tucked into the warmth that he suddenly wants you to offer up. He wants to get you talking to hear more. Wonders how he can coax you into a conversation.

That’s a fucking stupid idea. Cooper mentally shakes himself free of the passing fancy, head tilting ever so slightly as he peers down at you from the shadow of his hat. "Mhm. Ain't trying to get me hooked now are you, sweetheart?

"Something like that." 

“Well now, reckon vegetables ain’t the worst sort of vice a man can get lost in.” Cooper still can’t help himself. He lets his eyes wander right down your body before flicking back up to your face, what sort of vice he’s pondering made clear.

That flush on your cheeks blooms all the hotter as you laugh for him, the sound an utter delight when directed his way. You smile, sweet and shy now as you pluck up a hefty sweet potato to set beside the rest of his purchases. 

“Oh, well-” You start, stop with a small shake of your head as you smile all the wider. Utterly disarmed.

Cooper counts out the requested coin with a speculative hum, mirth sparking in his eyes as it seems he’s rendered you speechless. It’s down-right adorable if he’s being honest with himself. You’re a right little temptation he’d like to play with further. A dangerous thought.

Setting the coins onto the counter, he's swift in sweeping up his new bounty and stowing it all away into a pouch within his saddle bag. This close you're too bright and Cooper knows he's in trouble. Best to break away before you pull him into your orbit in full.

“You take care of yourself now, sweetheart,” Cooper drawls. He tips his hat towards you and turns away with spurs clicking. You watch him go, cheeks still flaming.

You know who he is. The Ghoul, the most famous Bounty Hunter the radiated Wastelands has to offer. You've heard all the rumors and truer tales about him all your life but nothing could prepare you for seeing him in the flesh. A dangerous sort of creature. A man who always brings his bounty in. 

You'd been watching him all day, stealing glances as you work. Now that you've seen him up close and personal? You're down-right fascinated. He’s nothing like the monster the stories painted him out to be. At least, he certainly wasn’t monstrous to you. There’s something captivating about him. Charming, even. 

You’ve seen ghouls before, of course. You know their kind as some live on the settlement with you. The majority end up shambling and ungainly, limbs no longer listening as the radiation rot wars with their regeneration abilities. A confusion that makes most of them uncoordinated and awkward in their transformed bodies, but The Ghoul? He’s got a swagger to his step that reminds you of those cowboys you’ve seen on ancient holotapes. 

He’s been lurking at the edge of your awareness all day, your head cocking in his direction to listen to the cadence of his voice as he bartered for bullets and talked business outside of the bar over yonder.

A thrill had jolted through you the moment he started to move towards your stall. The nervous energy thrumming through you had been made all the worse when you met The Ghoul’s gaze for the first time. A woman could find herself lost in such eyes and you’d certainly tripped right into them. Boldly meeting this stranger’s gaze and enjoying every second his attention was on you.

Shame he left so quickly. You sigh, turning back to count out bottlecaps he’d left as you turn your attention back to work. Best not to think about it. You’re unlikely to see that legend ever again.

[storiesfromafan]

She's A Spitfire - Benny x Reader

A/N: I can't help myself. This one's a little different, readers sassy haha. And this one is a long one.

Enjoy, and let me know what you think. Also, feel free to send requests :)

Boys and their toys, you always think when it comes to your boyfriend and his other biker club buddies and their motorcycles. Or anything with wheels really. And for their love of them, you found your Saturday out with the boyfriend, and his boys, at what started as a car show. But now also sported motorcycles, from a few different clubs.

Troy and his friends were discussing who’s bike was better, or what car looked the best. You didn’t know, it was all so boring. So you and three other women, partners of other bikers, were sitting around on blankets, taking in the sun and gossiping. Leaning back on your arms, one leg stretched out while the other propped up, you tilted your head back, eyes closed taking in the sun.

“Jeez (Y/N), do you need to be more on display!” Becky said with a chuckle.

To her words you popped your chest out more, smirk crossing your red lips.

“Better hope Troy don’t see ya” commented Danni.

“So what if he does? I do what I want, not what he wants” you remarked, making them all cackle with laughter.

“Can’t believe the other clubs here” Pam said rattling off names. “...Rogues and Vandals” she finishes.

“Just more bike wired men, who enjoy vibrations between there legs, and have drinking problems” you said offhandedly, making the women laugh more.

You always say what you want, making people think you were born with no filter. And that was fine with you. Even if it does get you in some trouble from time to time. The last time it was between you and another woman at the clubs bar, she had been mouthy and flirting up a storm with Troy. You called her out, she ignored you. So, you gave her some truths from her choice in clothes to her hair and skin care routine. She wasn’t a fan of you after that, going straight to slap you, but you caught her hand and gave her a serving of her own.

After that no woman in that bar messed with you, or your boyfriend. But that didn’t stop Troy from messing around on you. His taste seemed to have changed to cutesy, good girls who wore sweet dresses and heels. Even with this knowledge you still put up with him. But his time was coming, you could feel it. When the time was right you’d get your revenge.

“Sweet lord and Jesus’s!” Breathed out Danni, looking across the way, her glasses pulled down her nose, eyes looking over the top of them. “He should be illegal!”

You rolled your eyes at her words. After all her taste was – excuse the language – in her ass about eight out of ten times.

“Oh my” Pam said moving to swing her body around to face where Danni was looking. “Is he real!?”

Alright, now your interest was piqued. Lolling your head to the right, you searched for what those two were gawking at. And boy did you find it. He was tall, strong build. Dressed in a black t-shirt, jacket, dirty white jeans and matching dirty boots. He had messy blonde locks that one could run their hand through, or as you like, to pull on. Of course he was a Vandal, as his colors said when he turned around to take a beer from another Vandal. Then he took a swig of it, making the simplest of actions make you think not so clean thoughts.

“Someone serve me a slice of that”  Becky said with a dreamy voice. You all agreeing with her.

You moved a hand to draw down your sunglasses, needing to see him in the days full light. Glare be damned, you needed this. Without the glasses tint, he looked even better. He was talking to the man that gave him the beer, nodding his head to whatever said. Another two men walked over, one with his arm slung over the other in an attempted to keep standing up, possibly from a little too much to drink. They laughed, talking to blondie before the one holding up his buddy slapped him on the arm, head gesturing in your direction.

All four of you froze, like a deer in headlights as blondie turned his gaze to you all. His friends continuing to talk and laugh, no doubt mentioning you four staring. Maybe encouraging blondie to come over. But he didn’t move, eyes locked on you all, or was it you? You weren’t sure. He took another swig from his bottle, yet never took his eyes off you. Feeling the butterflies swarming your stomach, you put your sunglasses back on, before lolling your head back to where it had been. You had started to feel exposed by his staring, so you had to cut it off, and get back your bad bitch energy.

Benny had made his way over to Johnny and Brucie after taking a leek. They were in deep conversation about an upcoming picnic, discussing the finer details. Johnny had handed him a beer, which he thanked him for before taking a long swig.

“Some of the women think kids shouldn’t be attendin’. Saying too many men are getting stoned or drunk, doesn’t set a good example” laughed Brucie.

Johnny shook his head. “It’s a family picnic, kids have to be there. What ya think Benny?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah kids should be there” Benny said not really paying much mind.

It didn’t matter to him much if kids were at the picnic. But knowing how Johnny likes to bridge his family and club life. It was a small thing to let him enjoy both, even for a small time. It was then that Benny spotted Wahoo and Corky making their way over. Corky had his arm over Wahoo, using his counter part as a crutch from drinking too much. When they finally made it over, Johnny asked them the same question he asked Benny. They both attempted to make a few jokes about it, but they weren’t funny.

“I don’t care if there’s kids, as long as they stay out of my way” Wahoo said, Corky nodding his head.

Johnny nodded his head. Decision made, tradition will stand and its a full family friendly picnic. With that decided Benny listened to the two new comers talk about Zipco going on about Pinko's, before Wahoo's attention moved to across the way. A smirk formed on his lips before he turned back to Benny.

“Seems ya got an audience” Wahoo mused, slapping Benny’s arm and head gesturing to across from them.

Confused, Benny looked to where Wahoo had been looking. There on a blanket sat four women. Three of them were sitting up right and gawking, while the fourth was lounging back. Out of all of them, she was the one to catch Benny’s attention. The position she was in, her chest sticking out in her tight sweater, was a pleasant sight to the masses. Dark slacks covered her slender legs, making him wonder what they’d be like straddling his bike, or his lap. Over all she was a vixen, no doubt a spitfire, if the air she gave off implied.

Wahoo and Corky kept talking, making comments about the women. But then they talked about her. Voicing Benny’s thoughts. Yet he didn’t like it one bit. He thought those words and thoughts should just be from him, no other man. Feeling his mouth dry, Benny brought the beer to his lips and took a drink. But made sure to keep his eyes on her. The cause for needing that drink.

“You should go over there Benny” Johnny stated, watching the younger man. “Go introduce yourself”.

Benny thought it over, maybe he should. What’s the harm it could do? What’s the worst that could happen? You would say no, that’s nothing. Feeling confident Benny watched as the focus of his gaze put her glasses back on, turned her head, and go back to enjoying the sun. He handed Johnny his half full bottle before pulling out a cigarette and lighting it up, the only time he took his eyes off her. After taking a drag, Benny looked to the women again, slowly releasing the smoke from his mouth.

“I’ll be back” was all Benny said before putting the cigarette back between his lips.

You listened to the sounds the girls made, Pam gushing over when blondie took a drag of his cigarette. You had to stop yourself from turning to look at him, you had to remain calm. You never give a man power over you, and by jumping at any little thing would do that.

“Oh lord! He’s coming this way!” Becky said slapping Pam’s arm. “Do I look alright!?”

“You?! What about me?!” Retorted Pam.

You sighed. “Calm down girls, he’s just a man” you sighed.

“A fine man, yes” muttered Danni.

Once more you sighed before turning your head slightly, watching blondie slowly walking your way. You reminded the girls to stay calm. But part of you was trying to tell yourself it too. Blondie continued to smoke his cigarette, which now you understood the girls reaction. He really did make anything look good. Finally reaching you, blondie came around to stand beside you, before squatting down. He took the cigarette from his lips and flicked it away, done with it.

“Hey” came his gravelly voice. “I'm Benny”. A beautiful smile crossed his sinful lips.

You did your best to keep breathing as you pulled down your sunglasses, looking Benny in the eyes, beautiful baby blues watching your every move. “Hi Benny, I’m (Y/N)” you replied sweetly, smile gracing your lips.

“Hmm, pretty name for a pretty vixen” Benny mused, making you chuckle. “Hey ladies” Benny added looking to the women sitting around you.

They weakly said hi back, unsure of their own voices.

“You know how to get women to quiet down, huh?” You mused pushing your sunglasses back up.

Benny laughed. “Don’t know, never taken notice before”.

You smiled at his honesty.

“But it doesn’t seem to work on you, aye?” Benny asked teasingly.

“Unfortunately, nope” was your simple reply. But in your head you were gushing.

“I like that” he stated looking you up and down. “You got a man?”

You smirked. “Yeah I do. Why? Think you could handle me?”

Benny chuckled, “more could you handle me, baby?”

“I can handle anythin' Benny. I’m not afraid of anythin’”. That was a lie, but you couldn’t back down. Nor could you stop yourself. His attention was electrifying. But part of you feared Benny could make you go weak, could even fall for him and his baby blues.

“Oh is that so?” Benny asked, smirking at the banter between you both.

“Yep” you replied tilting your head back and sighing, knowing full well you were teasing the biker.

And what about Troy? All you thought was Troy who? He had his fun with sweet girls, even though he had a sultry woman. If he was having his cake and eating it too, you could tease another biker. And if Troy hears about it, you didn’t care. You were done with his crap.

“Shame you have a man, as I’d love to take you for a ride on my bike” Benny said, with a sad face. “But, as you said, you have a man...”

You almost caved, melting at his words and sad look. But you stayed strong. It couldn’t hurt to give him some hope, right?

“Hmm, I guess it is for ya. But you never know, play your cards right and you just might get me on your bike”. You pulled down your glasses, shot him a wink before putting them back in their place.

Oh how Benny wanted to groan from your flirty ways, and that wink. Cherry on top. Licking his lips, Benny took a moment to focus. You were clouding his head, but in a good way.

“Alright baby, when you’re ready let me know”.

With that Benny stood up, and took his leave. He walked back to the guys he’d left. You watched him walk away, loving the view. All three women did, was just as good as him walking over. Then they turned their sights on you, all in a state of shock and awe.

“What?” You asked innocently. Though far from it.

All three began to talk, questioning you what just happened? If you were crazy? What about Troy? Could you to teach them your ways, and so on. You ended up laughing with every question. Laughing to the point you ended up laying on the blanket on your back, a hand coming to cover your mouth while sticking the other out in an attempt to stop them.

“Alright, alright. Enough!” You exclaimed, out of breath.

“Seriously (Y/N), what was that?” Asked Danni with confusion.

You shrugged, moving to rest your hands behind your head. “Dunno, but it was fun. Benny is quite the dish, am I right?”

“What about your boyfriend?” Inquired Pam.

Again you shrugged. “He doesn’t have to know”.

Becky scoffed. “Yeah, if you weren’t out in the open, surrounded by people. He’s gonna hear about it”.

“Oh well” you sighed. “Will make things interestin’”.

All three women shared a look. “Maybe. Or cause a brawl”.

You looked to them. “No doubt a brawl will happen. Whoever wins can have me”.

And with that you turned your face back to the sky, closing your eyes and trying to remain calm. Your heart was racing with the thought of Troy flaring up, you enjoy a verbal fight because it would lead to a hot make up session back home. But after learning the truth of what your boyfriend has been up to, you really didn’t want to have words with him. You thought about ending things, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. So, this could be your chance to drop him.

And Benny. Where do you begin with Benny. The man was gorgeous, dangerously tempting. Plus he was just as taken with you, as you were him. Or else he wouldn’t have been flirting. You’d gladly get on his bike, and let him take you for a ride. Take that anyway you want. Now you would sit back and see what happens.

Benny made it back to his friends, Johnny holding out his beer with a smirk. “Pleasant chat, hmm?”

He smirked taking the bottle. “Yeah, she’s a spitfire”.

The men laughed, Wahoo clapping Benny on the back. The men joked and talked, all about watching Benny and the spitfire. Benny took a swig from the bottle, chuckling at his friends. Glancing back over to her and her friends, Benny noticed that she was now laying on the blanket. It didn’t help him one bit. The things he was thinking he could do to her.

“So, when you taking her for a ride?” Corky asked wiggling his eyebrows, double meaning to his question.

Benny shook his head looking to the male. “She’s got a man”.

“When has that stopped you?” Laughed Wahoo.

Benny laughed at his question, he had a point. “She did say if I played my cards right and I just might get her on my bike”.

Corky and Wahoo hollered and hooted, Johnny just shaking his head with a smile on his face before taking a sip from his beer. Brucie clinked his beer bottle with Benny’s, showing his praise. Benny felt like he was on his bike, riding down an open road, the rush of freedom. But he wasn’t on his bike, or riding the open road. It was because of her. The spitfire, vixen with red lips and sultry presence.

“I take it the boyfriend is here?” Johnny suddenly asked, breaking Benny from thought.

He shrugged. “Probably”.

“I’d expect he’ll hear about you talkin’ to his girl, ya know?”

“Yeah. I can handle him” Benny said without a care, drinking more of his beer.

“The boyfriend should be the worried one” laughed Corky.

They know he was right, but didn’t voice it. They all know Benny was ruthless when it comes to a fight. To the point he has to be pulled off the other guy. Past brawls have proven that. Johnny having to wrap his arms around Benny and drag him back, which is hard when Benny sees red.

“Cross that bridge when it comes” Benny said, ending it there with him walking off.

It was later in the afternoon when Troy finally surfaced, after leaving you with your friends for hours. By now you sitting on the blanket, deep in conversation with the girls. But always keeping an eye on Benny, and seeing he did the same. You might have even kept teasing him, which got the desired effect; want. Yes, you continued to fan the flame, fully knowing that could or would it engulf everything.

Back to Troy; he came stomping over, a couple of his friends behind him. Troy had heard gossip through out the day of some biker hitting on a stunning woman. Gradually all the pieces coming out and he found out that woman was you. Furry filled him. His girl talking to another biker, another biker having the guts to speak to his girl.

“Oh shit!” cursed Danni. “Here comes the consequence”.

Not quiet getting what she meant, you looked over your shoulder to see your boyfriend heading your way. “Well, it took him long enough” you sighed, moving to stand.

Once on your feet, you dusted your legs and behind. Then you fixed your top, not even showing a care in the world. On the inside you were uneasy. Questioning how he was going to react. Would he yell and jump up and down? Would he quietly yell at you? You’re about to find out.

“(Y/N)! What’s this I’m hearin' about some Vandal talkin' to ya!?” Troy questioned, seething with anger.

You raised your bored gaze to him. “Just that, talkin’ to me. And?”

That didn’t help. Troy’s anger rose to furry. He grabbed your arm – tightly – and pulled you close. “What was that! Tell me now what happened or so help me”.

Your straightened up, keeping your face calm, as you tried to pull your arm free. “Troy, let go of my arm. You’re hurtin’ me!” Your voice raised in volume, but fell on deaf ears.

“Tell me if you’re whoring around” he yelled, starting to catch the attention of others.

“Ha. I’m far from whoring around Troy” you gritted out, still trying to free your arm. “Unlike you, of course”.

He growled, shaking you, grip only getting tighter. “What ya sayin’, huh!?”

Before you could think or say anything, you saw a fist come flying and make contact with Troy’s face. His grip finally freeing your arm as he staggered back a few steps. You held your arm, moving back from the man. Finally processing what happened, you turned to see Benny standing there, breathing heavy with tightly clutched fists.

“She asked you to let her go” Benny heaved. “No man should ever grab a woman like you did”.

Benny had just gotten back with Cal, after taking a walk to check out some bikes. Upon his return he witnessed a man, hell bent on reaching his destination, with an anger that only spelt trouble. And when he stopped before you, Benny knew what was to come. A verbal altercation or a physical one to defend you. As soon as he grabbed your arm, Benny began to slowly walk over, Cal and Johnny right behind him. Benny heard everything said. Accusing you of whoring around and his grip tightening to the point you were trying to get free, was what did it. And he swung his fist.

“You alright spitfire?” Benny asked looking over his shoulder at you. Choosing the new nickname over his favorite; baby.

You were putting on a brave face, he could tell but didn’t say anything. “I’m alright. But gonna have a nice bruise”.

Holding his cheek, Troy watched you both. A sneer on his face. “Take it you’re the Vandal this whore was flirtin’ with” he spat.

It only stoked the flame in Benny. How dare this man so easily doubt you, call you a whore. “If anythin’ I’m the one who talked to her” Benny defended flexing his hands, itching to connect them to his face some more.

Troy laughed. “No need to lie for her. She ain’t nothin’ but trouble”.

You felt anger rising, replacing the unease. “Other way around baby” you spat out.

Troy’s laughter died, eyes narrowing in on you. “Stay out of it sweetheart, the men are talkin’”

“Man” you corrected, “I only see one and he’s defendin’ me”.

That got under his skin, and Troy made to go for you but Benny grabbed him before pushing him back. “I wouldn’t even try it”.

Troy laughed dryly. “Might straighten her out”.

That was it, last strike. Benny lost it, fist connecting with Troy’s face again and then again. The first time Troy copped the full hit, but managed to get a half block in. Then he returned Benny’s fists with his own, getting a hit in. You moved away from them, calling out for them to stop but they weren’t listening. Troy’s buddy’s went in to helped their friend, but Cal and Johnny made sure they were taken care of. A full on three way brawl was taking place, with so many on lookers.

Troy managed to dodge Benny and step away from him, but unlucky for him Benny charged at him, tackling him to the ground and waling on him. This was when Cal and Johnny noticed the anger of their friend. Troy’s buddies just watching, afraid to step in to help him. Johnny was the one to grab Benny, but he couldn’t pull him away, until Cal helped him. They were telling Benny to stop, it was enough. Sitting on the grass, both men with him, holding an arm. Benny saw the damage he’d done, to Troy and his own hands. Spitting he went to stand, his friends moving to help him.

“Don’t ever say those words about or too (Y/N) again, or to anyone. Ya hear!?” Benny’s voice was breathless and more gravelly.

Troy just nodded his head, making noises in pain.

Benny turned to you. “Sorry about that spitfire, just don’t like a man disrespecting a woman”.

You nodded, offering a small smile. “Thanks for coming to my rescue”.

He chuckled, “always” and winked. Yet it hurt from getting clocked in the eye.

“Alright, come on. Let’s get ya cleaned up” Johnny said patting Benny on the back, and starting to uncomfortably walk back to his spot.

Cal also patted Benny before walking back too.

Benny looked back to you. “Ya comin’ baby?” He asked, not caring anymore and just calling you what he wanted.

You smiled grabbing your bag and stepping up to him. “Sure Benny”.

He wrapped his arm around you and you both moved to pass Troy, before he grabbed your slacks. “What about me? Ya boyfriend?”

You looked to Benny, before moving from his arm and leaning down to Troy. “It’s over. Plain and simple”.

He sputtered. “Huh!? Who’s gonna look after me!?”

You smiled at his sweetly. “I dunno, maybe ask Anna or Stefanie or Doris to take care of you. Because this whore ain’t ya girl anymore”.

With that, you put Benny’s arm around you again and you both headed over to his friends. You helped clean up Benny’s hands and face. He liked having your attention on him, liked how careful you were cleaning and wrapping up his hands. Once done you took a seat next to him with a sigh, head leaning back against the car you were both sitting beside.

“Sorry you had to step in back there” you said softly. “I didn’t expect that to happen”.

Benny chuckled. “It’s my fault. I struck first, talk later. It’s my style”.

You laughed, a genuine laugh. “Well, how about we both say sorry then”.

Benny nodded. “Sounds good to me”.

A comfortable silence fell between you too. You looked over to your friends, who were glancing at you both occasionally. Were they still your friends? After all they were with other bikers in Troy’s club. So, where does this leave you, with such a public break up too. Only time would tell.

Feeling restless you sat up and turned to Benny. “Your offer still stands for a ride on your bike?”

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

“I feel like I need a change of scenery” you gestured to your friends, as well as Troy and his boys further behind the girls.

He nodded before standing. Benny held out his hand and you took it carefully, before he pulled you up, not caring about the pain. You wanted to leave, go anywhere from here and what happened. Leading you to his bike, it didn’t take long for him to get on and start the bike up, the roar catching people’s attention. Without trouble you got on behind him, hands wrapping around his body, hands resting against his firm stomach. Then Benny took off, heading out and onto the road. Letting his bike take you both wherever, and enjoy the freedom it gives you both.

[atinystraynstay]

Pretty Boy Rock - Yoon Jeonghan

Synopsis: Every girl in your office swooned over Yoon Jeonghan besides you. Yet, Jeonghan always liked a challenge.

Pairing: Colleague!Yoon Jeonghan x fem. reader

Genre: "I won't fall for you because everyone else does" girl meets the "I get whoever I want" boy

Inspired by @aaniag - thanks for tagging me in this post ♡ this is only the second one so we still have a long way to go!

First Encounters Mini Series: #1: #2: #3: #4: Wonwoo #5: Jeonghan #6: #7: #8: Dino

Word Count: 2k

Friday afternoon, 12:25pm

"Did you see what Jeonghan is wearing today?" "Girl, how could I not notice? My attention was all over his slacks." "The front or the back?"

Oh god. Give me a fucking break.

If there was one thing you hated, it was gossip around the office. Especially when it came in the form of girls basically drooling over one of your colleagues, Yoon Jeonghan. And of all places, they decided to take their little thirst fest into the break room.

"You know, there is something that I noticed," you said, popping into the conversation.

Immediately, heads snapped towards your direction. You were a bit taken back by the abrupt movement, fearing that their own heads would fall off. Either because they didn't realize you were in the room or they were interested in what you out of all people had to say. You were one of the few survivors of the trance Jeonghan seemed to place over your female colleagues. And if you had something to say regarding the matter, they surely were interested.

You couldn't help but smile slightly as you set down your silverware. The element of surprise had to be on your side here. You just had come in to enjoy your salad, but why not enjoy a show?

All the women leaned in, anticipating for what you might have to say. Your eyes glanced from side to side, as if you were scooping the scene to make sure there were no unwanted listeners. Getting the hint, the women leaned further in to hear the secret you were about to spill.

Time to go in the for the kill. In the loudest voice you could possible muster, you said the following:

"The way you talk about Jeonghan is quite disgusting. You hate when the men in the office talk about your skirts or how tight your blouses, but here you are drooling over Jeonghan in just a pair of pants? Pathetic. Close your mouths, ladies, or you might flood the office."

The small group gasped at you, eyes glaring at you but also glancing around to make sure nobody had looked in their direction. Their faces red in embarrassment as you smirked triumphantly.

Being the polite person you are, you bowed your head gently to pardon yourself. Gathering all the trash from your lunch, you threw it away and was about to make your exit.

"You're just upset that you're not Jeonghan's type," one of the woman muttered.

You couldn't help but laugh at their claim. You turned towards the group who seemed to be mustering all the courage they could to stand up to you. At the same time, you raised an eyebrow and had your hands on your hips. Do they really think their words will hurt you?

"Oh no! What will I ever do?" You said dramatically. "At least I don't live in some delusion where me and my friends are all after the same guy? I mean, he can only pick one of you. Or worse, he picks none of you."

Their eyes widened and mouths dropped at your words. Don't mess with the bull or you might get the horns. They seemed to be trying to come up with another comeback, but all you could do was walk away. Not worth wasting your breath on them.

You began to make your way back to your cubicle. You still had a few reports you needed to get done with before you could close out for the weekend. It wasn't that you hated your job. If anything, you kind of liked the routine it put you in. You even were beginning to be handed more responsibilities like leading presentations and joining brainstorming sessions for different marketing campaigns.

You definitely didn't have the time to be oogling over the looks of Yoon Jeonghan.

As you settled back at your dress, you let out a sigh. As invested as you were in the work you were doing, you couldn't help but feel as if time was dragging now that it was towards the later part of the day. Just 3 more hours.

"Well look who it is," a voice called out.

The hairs on the back of your neck rose a bit. You recognized that voice anywhere. Your attention was locked on the computer monitor in front of you, thinking that if you ignore the interruption it would just go away naturally. That was until you felt like something was looming over.

With a narrow gaze, you looked up to see the devil himself - Yoon Jeonghan. His arms rested against the top of your cubicle wall. You realy thought you had been silent enough to get back to work without alerting the beast. But by judging by the smirk curled on his lips, you knew he had been waiting for you. The black tie was loose around his neck with the sleeves of his white button up were rolled up to his forearms.

"Missed you, darling." "What can I do to help you, Mr. Yoon?" You did your best to keep a montone voice.

You didn't want to give any sort of impression you could be into what is happening.

"Mr. Yoon? What is with the formalies, y/n?" He gasped. "Well, I'm here to do my job and not entertain whatever this is," you explained.

"Is it actually that harmful for a man to be friendly?" "But what's the catch?" "Go out with me."

Your eyes widened and you nearly laughed. He frowned at your reaction but still stood his ground. There was no need to give any indicator that his ego had deflated a bit. He was not used to someone being so upfront with their rejection, normally accustomed to a shy "I don't know." But you were different. There was a reason he did this little waltz with you.

You and Jeonghan have been working together since you joined the company last year. He was technically someone in your department that could have been a mentor, but you were quickly swayed away by his flirtatious manner. Seeing that you were not dropping on your knees, begging for his attention, Jeonghan saw the challenge and knew he could beat it. There was a way to get into your heart, no matter how icy and impenetrable you wanted to come across.

He would crack the code, one way or another.

"I don't think it's a joke, doll. We're two attractive people. Come on. One meal couldn't hurt you." "Jeonghan, being in the same room as you is sometimes insufferable. How do I even know you don't want to go out with me because someone else was busy, hmm? I mean, weren't you just coupled up with the receptionist?" "Couldn't be fit into her Google Calendar."

You rolled your eyes at his response before dropping your gaze back down to your computer. You pretended to be typing away at one of the numerous documents you had pulled open, hoping it was enough for Jeonghan to get the hint.

However, he could tell you weren't budging quite yet. He also picked up on your little act as your screen was completely black. The brightness from the screen wasn't reflecting onto your face whatsoever. Still, he found you absolutely adorable.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. This is unprofessional of me, y/n. I'll leave you be."

Fucking finally.

Monday morning, 8:59am

Ding

Your heels clicked along the tile flooring of your office. It poured during your commute into work, which caused you to be stuck behind more traffic than usual. You didn't always mind, but it just put you in a foul mood. Especially since you had to sacrifice your Monday morning coffee run. It was ritual for you, and now the whole week felt like it was just off balance.

"Woah y/n. Your bad mood seems to have brought the bad weather," a voice called out to you.

Your gaze narrowed in the direction the voice came from. Your hair was slightly damped as you had to run into the front of the building from your parking spot because of course you didn't think it was going to run and didn't bring an umbrella with you.

Looking over, you noticed it was one of the girls from the break room on Friday. You rolled your eyes to refrain yourself from sticking up your middle finger. You just offered a polite smile before marching to your desk. As you moved, you heard her and her friends giggling at you. This is why you despised any sort of office relationship.

"Hey, y/n. You okay?" Jeonghan called out.

You were about to enter your cubicle when you saw Jeonghan overlooking your cubicle again. Your jacket rested on the back of your chair. it would be a miracle if it dried at all before the end of the day. You were also grateful you had a pair of flats you could change into in attempt to save your soaked shoes too. Plus, it as a good excuse to slip out of heels. You didn't mind wearing them but always valued comfort over appearance.

"Yeah," you murmured.

Usually, you would expect a snide comment from Jeonghan. Or a flirty attempt in righting the situation. But there was nothing. It cause you to freeze and look up to see what was going on. Jeonghan was only staring at you with almost a friendly smile on his face. Not a smirk but a smile.

You wanted to question it, but as you were calming down from your hectic morning, something else caught your attention. An iced coffee was sitting on your desk with a winky face on it. What the fuck?

You opened your mouth to question it but looked at Jeonghan instead. In response, he winked at you before slipping behind the wall that divided the two of you.

Standing there, you felt something unusual throughout your body. You felt warm and tingly, especially in your stomach. Your heart was doing somersaults. It was comparable to in cartoons when the heart leaps out of the character's chest. You stared at the coffee, specifically at the marker drawn winky face staring back at you.

Jeonghan did this? For me?

Your eyes couldn't help but wonder to see if this was a prank or if there was a hidden camera. Jeonghan still wasn't lurking in his usual spot. You also noticed that nobody else had an iced coffee on their desk awaiting for them. A blush overtook your cheeks, but you quickly sat down before anyone noticed.

Reaching forward, you moved the plastic container towards you to see it was from the local coffee shop you frequent. It was the place you went every Monday morning, the place you had to skip out on today or else you would be late. But what struck you was that he got your exact order.

Your blush intensified. You kept your head ducked as you took a sip out of the delicious drink. There was no denying the smile on your face wasn't just because of the coffee but because of Yoon Jeonghan.

And on the other side of the wall, Jeonghan was smirking to himself. He got his computer turned on before going to make himself a cup of coffee from the break room. He didn't often frequent coffee shops as they often didn't have decaf coffee. When he walked into the place around the corner from your office building, he asked the woman behind the corner if you had been in yet. Saying no and noting how odd it was, Jeonghan seized the opportuntiy. He asked for your usual order and requested a winky face drawn on it.

"Are you her boyfriend? She's mentioned there's a guy she's interested in at her place of work."

That's all the encouragement Jeonghan needed to go through with his plan. He shook his head but smiled at the barista. "No, not yet. I'm hoping this catches her attention."

And by the looks of your blushing face, he was close to winning you over. He always gets what he wants, and he certainly had his eyes locked on you.

[haikyu-mp4]

Single

word count; 797 – gn!reader, is this angst? I think it's fluff

Atsumu put his tray down beside Suna, sighing dramatically in a typical Miya manner while sitting down along with his brother. “I just heard a rumour that your better half is single.”

Suna did his best to maintain his usual poker face, hand clutching the phone he was previously scrolling on. The thought made him sick, even if he already knew of the rumour.

“No one’s seen you two together in a week,” Osamu added, looking more worried than his twin. “Obviously you’re the one who should apologise, why not get it over with?”

Okay, so you and Suna had a fight and were both too stubborn to back down and apologise first. Typical scenario, unfortunately, but because you were still in high school, people stuck their noses in other people’s business. This might be the time Suna realised that dating his gorgeous partner was more of a flex than he already saw it as because men and women alike were just waiting to see him back away so they could take their chance with you.

Suna didn’t respond to the twins yet, slowly moving his gaze from his reflection in his phone screen to where you sat across the canteen, laughing with your friends. Then he saw how when people passed by, they would turn and look over their shoulder at you. Some would turn back around to find Suna’s hard glare. If he could, he would have just gotten up and skipped lunch, but he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to stay close to you whenever he could.

So he went back to his phone, sending off a message asking you to meet him before your next class. The Miya twins huffed at the lack of response and switched topics, making the lunch period move even slower than Suna wanted it to with their braindead arguments.

“You’re so freaking stubborn,” he complained when he saw you. He’s walking over with his hands in his pockets. You were standing outside your classroom, just like he asked.

“And you’re just an angel, aren’t you?” you responded sarcastically. You were still hurt by how Suna disregarded your feelings last weekend, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t miss him. You heard how people gossiped about it.

Suna had to hold back from chuckling at your comeback and remain serious. It almost never happens, but Osamu was right this time. He’s the one who should apologise. “I’m sorry for what I said. You’re right, it wasn’t cool. But next time, can’t you just tell me in the moment?” he said honestly, sighing in between so he wouldn’t lose his whole image of being totally cool. “I’m so used to us throwing out comments like that,” he said, both because it explained what happened and also because he missed it now. A whole school week without your retorts to his quips.

You looked at him with a stubborn frown, crossing your arms and stepping a little closer to him. He knew this was you starting to give in because you always kept your distance when you were angry. “Thank you. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you, but you really made me feel stupid in front of your friends,” you said, still standing your ground. He had made the mistake of making a comment about you in front of his friends, and while that would usually be funny when it was just the two of you, you already had a bad day and ended up just feeling quite stupid. “Sometimes I have bad days and don’t want to be called stinky in front of people who might believe it.”

“I should have realised when you didn’t respond,” he admitted, nodding his head as if confirming that this was something he had thought about. You finally smile and it instantly warmed up Suna’s heart.

“I missed you. The people in my class kept asking if we broke up,” you mumbled, stepping close to him and adjusting his tie a bit.

“I missed you too, lunch with the Miya twins is just as you’d expect.” Suna could see how the people in your class looked at you two from over your shoulder, so he snuck a hand around your waist and pulled you in for a deep kiss right as the bell rang, signalling classes starting. When he pulled away, he couldn’t stop the small smile on his face. “I should go, see you after school.”

“I hate you,” you joked while Suna backed away, a wide grin and light blush on your face showing him you meant the opposite.

“I hate you more!” he cooed back, holding up a stupid finger heart before jogging off down the hall. Let’s just hope he’s not too late for class now.

masterlist

[adelliet]

Javier Peña X f!reader

PUSSY PLEASER

Sumarry: You are Peña's assistant who saw his charm from the moment you first saw him. You were also aware of the gossip about his nickname and wanted to find out if it was really true or just made up stories…

Warnings: MDNI 18+, fingering, spanish nicknames, breast playing, unprotected sex (piv), squirming, blood (a little), aftercare

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

When you applied for the position of assistant in DEA, you did not expect exactly what it entailed. You already had some experience from former companies that were not exactly focused on murders and investigations, but this is a completely different story.

When Margaret, your colleague, introduced you to everyone, they looked so stern but spoke so innocently. Except for your boss, who not only looked cold, but talked and acted like that too. You admitted that you had a lot of respect for him, but it wasn't just respect that Javi instilled in you.

The first time you shook hands with him, you saw a completely different world. His grip was hard but serious, his hands as smooth as a baby's ass and huge as if they belonged to a grizzly bear. However, it wasn't the hands that caught your attention the most.

His face was still tense and his brow furrowed as if he was still thinking about something. You could see that he took great care to keep his brown charming mustache and silky hair clean. His eyes brought the entire brown combination together perfectly as they gave off the gorgeous glow of the morning coffee. He smelled of alcohol, but not the typical disgusting smell, but a fragrant perfume. This is exactly how you always imagined the right man should smell.

Every time you walk past Peña, your breath will be taken away as soon as you smell his typical aroma. But Javi is not known here for his surprisingly gorgeous look, or for his perfume. He is known here as a pussy pleaser.

It didn't take long before you learned about his reputation as well. More precisely, on the very first day you sat down in your office, almost every colleague told you about Javi, about his rich experience with women.

You were shocked at first, but only for a little while. It's Javi we're talking about, the idea that he wouldn't be a pussy pleaser would probably surprise you more. Even so, the others put a bug in your head, and whenever you looked at Peña, a million wild scenarios formed in your head and you couldn't stop it.

Whenever you came home, laid in bed, and an image of your boss popped into your head, you couldn't help it. Your hands went slowly and automatically between your legs as you imagined Javi's lips rubbing against your wet folds. Every time you cum quick, which always surprises you. You've never had such a quick orgasm with any man before.

You love your job, and one of the main reasons is of course Javier Peña. Whenever he stands behind you while you're sitting at the table, checking your work, you can feel his hot breath against your neck, which is sending shivers down your spine immediately and the flame in your panties starts being unbearable.

You are aware of Javi's charm, how he enchanted you and how you are capable of doing anything for him, but you have to keep this job to even have a chance to see Peña still, so you try to act as formal as your body allows. But you couldn't help yourself and risk one thing, your choice of clothes.

Naturally, no one told you any rules about how to dress up for work, you're expected to know that. Of course you know that, but you also know how to attract men. That's why every day, from the first day of your job, you walk in very short and tight skirts where everyone can see almost everything.

You have your shirt tucked in, a different color every day, but you always have the 3 top buttons unbuttoned precisely so that your colleagues have a good view of the shape of your amazing breasts. You do not show interest in other male colleagues who give you attention and clearly want to fuck you right in the office, you are focused only on your target.

Even if you try to be flirtatious yet dignified at the same time, whenever you talk to Javi, he doesn't give you the attention you want. Surely, you can't miss his quick eye twitch to check you up, but other than that, nothing else happened. On the other hand, what do you expect? He is your boss and if there was anything between you, even just a kiss, it would be a huge misfortune that would take a long time to iron out and you would be on the verge of being fired right away, and Peña would be too.

But even though you know all the risks, you can't get over the idea that there could be something between you, despite his history with cheap girls, which you succesfully ignores. After all, you are too blinded by his dominance, hardness, coldness...

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧



It was another work day, another day where you were wearing a short skirt that gracefully accentuated the curves of your tender body, a white to see-through shirt on top, with as usual, three unbuttoned buttons that riskily exposed the top of your chest. You really "inconspicuously" wore a black lace bra that pushed up your boobies even more. All of this just for a little attention from your boss, how pathetic.

You were just walking past offices with see-through windows, knowing full well that mostly male colleagues were staring at you, like a wild animal on its prey. You couldn't lie, it gave you a bit of an ego, however, you don't care about other people's attention, you care only one Javi's attention.

You clutched the DEA files that contained Javier's papers tightly in your hands, keeping them close to your body as you tapped your heels to Peña's office door. You knocked softly until you heard permission to enter.

You walked in and as soon as you saw the man comparing the two papers in his hand, his brow furrowed, the image send shivers down your spine immediately. You take a deep breath before you start speaking.

,,Mr. Peña, here are the documents regarding to the latest case" you said, as softly and formally your voice allowed. Javi's eyes switch to you quickly, as you handed the folders to him. He places the papers he was just holding on the desk, before he gently grabbed the folders from your hand.

You straightened up, hands behind your back and chest popping as you observed your boss, more specifically his fingers. They were so long and thick, exactly how you always imagined in your wildest scenarios while touching yourself. You bite your lower lip slightly to calm yourself, and your pussy down a bit. After that you looked at Javi's face again, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips slightly pouted, how focused he was. He is always so hot like that, it drives you crazy.

When Javi started nodding his head, it forced you to return back to reality. "Thank you..." he said as a sign that you could leave. He didn't even look at you which slightly disappointed you but he's still your boss and you have to obey his orders, so you just nodded your head and quickly turned towards the door .,,Oh and uh can you get me some coffee please? I really need some energy" he asked and his voice made you turn on your heel. With a smile on your face you nodded your head again and closed the door behind you as you left the room.

That smile didn't leave your face, even when you came to the kitchen and threw the capsule into the coffee machine. You leaned against the kitchen counter and watched the brown liquid pour into the white mug.

"Hey" you heard a familiar voice. You looked by the sound, only to see your bosses colleague, Murphy. You smiled and just nodded your head softly in greeting. Murphy was pouring tea into the sink, apparently old by the stains on the top. ,, How is Javi doing about the case?" he asked, not looking at you. "I don't know Mr. Murphy" you admitted truthfully and quickly flinched when the coffee machine made a sound to signal that it was ready. You didn't hesitate for a second, grabbing the mug and quickly walking back to Javi's office.

You're a little scared of Murphy. Although he has a wife, you still couldn't help but notice his hints that he would break his loyalty to her for you. But you're not a bitch and you definitely don't want to get involved in relationships or into married men, which luckily Mr. Peña is not.

You busily knocked on your boss's door and as soon as he said permission to enter you were already inside. You were so stressed and nervous about Murphy that you tripped over your heels and spilled the boiling coffee on yourself. If you weren't in Javi's presence, you'd already be yelling curses out loud, but since you're not alone, the curses were just silently in your head.

You gasped, instantly got Javi's attention. He quickly stood up from his seat and walked towards you, asking if you're okay. "It's fuc- really burning" you hissed and looked down at your breast, covered by the hot brown liquid. "Wait here, I'll go grab some ice" he stroked your shoulders and was gone in an instant.

The pain was unreal, it wasn't the first time you spilled coffee on yourself, but never on your chest. You had to quickly get rid of the excess fabric so it wouldn't stick to your burnt skin, so you quickly removed your shirt and dropped it on Javi's desk.

At this moment, Javi arrived back and closed the door behind him. He quickly walked around you to stand face to face with you, but his eyes automatically landed on your bare boobs, covered by only soft bra. If the situation wasn't the way it is, he would have been staring at your breasts for a long time, he couldn't get enough of them. But since you were in pain, he immediately raised his eyes to your worried face.

"Here" he said and hurriedly put the ice cubes on your red chest, holding them still in his hand. You squeak a bit by the sudden arrival of cold, but you were relieved very quickly, when the pain was gone.

You close your eyes and your breath calms, as your body relaxes. "Thank you" you whisper, almost silently but Javi heard you very well. You open your eyes after you didn't hear an answer, now dazed by Peña's face across from you, looking down at you.

You liked this angle a lot more than you should have. You looked at him like an angel, like a treasure you craved more than anything else. His aromatic perfume enveloped all your olfactory cells, and still you couldn't get enough. His brown eyes were so innocent yet so full of desire and lust. The magic in his eyes intoxicated you, as did his scent, or his hands that were still glued to your chest. The ice cubes melted very quickly, now there was almost nothing left, so you could feel his fingers on your sensitive skin.

You took a deep shaky breath, scared Javi by this little movement and brought you both back to Earth. He quickly removed his fingers from your chest and awkwardly cleared his throat while breaking eye contact with you, looking around for your shirt.

Since Mr. Peña is an expert at searching, it wasn't long before he was holding your stained shirt in his massive manly hands. He realized pretty quickly that you can't wear this until the end of your working hours. When he finally worked up the courage to look up back into your eyes, he was immediately struck by the realization that you were still in his office in just a bra and a ridiculously short skirt. "You probably shouldn't wear this anymore..." you nodded at Javi's words, as you sucked your lips into a thin line.

"Mr. Peña I-" "I have some extra shirts in a cabinet, I can bring you one" he cut you off and offered you, how it seems, only idea to solve this problem. You just smiled softly and nodded in agreement. Javi didn't wait long and placed your shirt on the table before leaving to get another shirt. When he left, you let out a deep breath, as you closed your eyes. This whole scene wasn't on your bingo list.

You're still recovering and still can't figure out how it even happened. All you know is that you're grateful to Murphy. If he hadn't stressed you out, this wouldn't have happened and you'd have missed an excellent opportunity to gain Peña's shirt.

"This was the most suitable I found" you heard and turned to follow the voice. Javi was holding a red shirt in his hand and offered it to you to take. "Thank you so much Mr. Peña" you took the shirt with relief and immediately she dressed herself. Javi watched your every move, how you gracefully tuck your shirt into your skirt, how you fasten your buttons with precision, and how you boldly skip the top 3.

After you were done, you looked at Javi, caught him staring at you. You couldn't help but feel butterflies in your stomach. "Be more careful next time" his husky tone caught your breath a bit. He walked around you and sat back down at his desk, continuing with his work. Again, you were disappointed that something more didn't happen, even though it was a great opportunity to do so, but you're not going to just give up, definitely not after this experience. "I will...sorry and again, thank you" you said submissively and your boss just nodded, too 'busy' to even look at you.

You walked out of his office, slowly closing his door before walking back to your own. You definitely have a big amount of work right now, since you've been really busy lately. Even though it was very hard to force yourself to think about work now, you had no choice but to do so.

But you couldn't shake the image of Javi, the way he was looking at you. Whenever you concentrated for too long, it always blew you away and you couldn't concentrate on anything else. This is going to be a long day.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You sighed tiredly as you rubbed a hand over your forehead. Your head was pounding, your vision was blurry and you really couldn't concentrate anymore. After a while, you leaned back in your chair and looked at the clock, which you hadn't looked at in a long time, which was a mistake. Your working hours end at 4, but the clock said 8 o'clock. Your eyes widened and your breath was caught in your neck. How is it possible that time went by so fast and you didn't even realize it?

Of course, it was already dark outside, where you could see absolutely nothing except for the lamps. You sighed sadly and already imagined in your head how some creep follows you and rapes you on the street. Because you're not exactly in discreet clothes, it's like an attraction for weirdos.

But there was nothing else to do, if you stayed in the office longer, it would just get worse, so you started packing your things and getting ready to leave. Suddenly, you hear a soft knock on the door. You looked over your shoulder and shouted permission to enter. Your heart started beating much faster, when your boss appeared in your doors.

,,Mr. Peña, what are you doing here this late?” You asked with raised eyebrows, as you pack last thing into your purse. ,,I can ask the same question” Javi crossed his arms on his chest, making his biceps pop out and charmed you immediately. You couldn't ignore them, so you just take a quick peak before looking back into his eyes. ,,I uh had a lot of work” you admit, straightened up and smile. Peña smiled back at you and nodded his head. "Then we're on the same page" you chuckled and nod your head too.

"This work is really um...draining right?" you try to continue the conversation as long as you could. "Yes, but I love it" he breathed in, his shirt tight against his chest, you could even see his hard nipples. "Me too, naturally" you made Javi chuckle a bit. But you didn't admit that you love the job only because of him.

There was an awkward silence for a moment, before you decided it's perhaps the best time to go. ,,I should probably go" you break the silence. ,,Yeah, definitely...but, it's quite dangerous right now" Javi said, because he knows it best. Well, he's a detective, of course he knows about the dangers outside.

"Yeah but I can handle it, don't worry" you calmed Peña down, even though you were worried yourself. He could sense that easily from your boy moves and face expressions. "But you definitely shouldn't be walking alone in this outfit" he stopped you as you walked towards the door, where he was still standing, leaning against the frame. You swallowed an invisible saliva and couldn't help it. Your corners lifted slightly as Javi finally mentioned your revealing clothes.

"What's wrong with my outfit, Mr. Peña?" you asked, blinking innocently, even though you knew very well, what was wrong with your outfit. Your words amused your boss as he shook his head and looked at the ground. "You know very well" he whispered and he looked back into your eyes, or rather straight into your soul. At this moment, as if time stopped, everything around was not important, it was just a blur. All you could focus on was Javi, standing just inches away from you with his arms crossed.

After a while, Javi decided to come closer and reduce the distance between you two. He walked really slowly, but it was so freaking attractive. ,,You think I haven't noticed what you're trying to do?” his deep voice send shivers down your spine, as he walked closer and closer. You stopped breathing, when you were dangerously close, that only 2 inches separated you from each other.

Your words got stuck in your throat, your heartbeat was dangerously fast and you felt a pleasant pulse in your panties. "Hm? Out of words?" he hummed, as he adjusted the collar of your shirt. He didn't look into your eyes, instead watching your chest, which was already fully healed. "You really think I am that stupid, hermossa?" He started drawing light circles on your chest, making you gasped a little.

,,I have no idea what you're talking about” finally came out of you as you mustered up all the courage you had left. Javi just smiled and finally looked you in the eyes. "You're so adorable when you lie, belezza” his hand smoothly traveled from your chest, to your neck, finally reaching your cheek and cupping it softly. You were burning but this time not from the hot coffee.

"Do you think I didn't notice your behavior, your dressing?" he said, rubbing your cheek slightly. You close your eyes, listening to his calming voice while melting into his touch. You both knew it was too late to defend yourself in any way, Javi had caught you. Of course, he's the best detective you know. Sooner or later, the truth would surface.

"And on top of that, today's coffee ‘incident’, you are very refined" you opened your eyes in surprise. "It was really an accident I-" "And do you regret it, amar?" your boss cut you off once again, and you just stared at him breathless. Of course you don't regret it, not even a second of it, so does Javi.

But before you could answer, Javi glued his lips into yours. He tickled you lightly with his soft mustache, but the passionate hungry kiss made you focus on something else entirely. You dropped your purse on the floor, not caring where it is or where it ends up, the only thing you care about right now was your bosses tongue in your mouth.

You felt huge hands on your hips, a gentle grip at first that turned into a firm grip over time. This will definitely leave bruises there, but you don't mind, actually you want it. You want everything Javier Peña offers. You immediately cooperated instinctively and wrapped your arms around Javier's neck. You ran your fingers into his fine curls, messing up his hard work that he had been struggling with all morning.

The hungrier the kissing started being, the more passionate Javi started to be. His hands were no longer just on your hips, they traveled all over your body, back, hair, neck, he wanted you so much, he longed for you so much.

Your whimpers into the kissing started being more and more loud, sending vibration into Peña's dick, that was already twitching in his really tight pants. He started moving forward, making you back up until you hit your desk with your ass. As soon as you stopped in front of the desk, Javi grabbed your thighs and lifted you onto table, after rudely and unpeacefully throwing all the very important papers on the floor.

You squeak a bit by the sudden and little aggressive move by Javi, but you were fully into it. You know Javi is a dominant, self-centered man who knows what he wants and goes for it. That's one of the reasons why you went after him so hungrily and tried to seduce him. After a lot of whimpers and wet kissing sound went by, Peña's hand were on your thighs, squeezing and massaging them. He couldn't get enough of them, he couldn't get enough of you.

His erection began to grow in his pants, and his agony made him growl. His quiet yet deep moaning sends a hot line right into your clit. He didn't wait long before grabbing your skirt by the waist and ripping it off you in one fell swoop. You gasped and stopped kissing, but not for too long. You smiled, as you looked into Javi's eyes, dark and black, full of lust, just for you.

You connected your lips to his again, your wet panties starting to leak, leaving a wet trail on the table. Your core were throbbing so much, you though you will explode in a minute. Javi was no better off than you. His cock was so tight and his balls so full that he couldn't take it anymore and started to quickly remove his pants with boxers. He was done really quick, he has experience after all, but the sound of Javi's jeans landing on the floor make you even more hornier.

Peña's hands surrounded you all over, reaching places where they shouldn't and from time to time squeezing your sensitive boobs. He had to see them in all their glory, that's why without any warning he grabbed your shirt and ripped it off of you. He didn't mind that he destroyed his own shirt, he has planty of them.

His hand quickly found the switch of your bra and with one movement, your breast was now bare. Javi needed to see them, his saliva accumulated and he had to follow his instincts, that's why your right nipple was surrounded by Javi's sore lips, while the other one was between his index and middle finger, playing with it like a toy.

You moaned, loudly so that if there was anybody near, they could easily heard you. You hoped that you two are here alone, so you can scream his name as loud as you could.

Your fingers got lost in his curls as he sucked on one of your breasts and gently squished the other. He didn't take his eyes off you, he watched your face, as it frowned and your lips formed a beautiful shape of O. He admires this view, he could watch this every day and it would still get him as excited as he is now. Talking about excitement, his cock was already leaking his precum, and your beautiful moans and groans were helping him to get closer to his orgasm, but he didn't want to climax that way. He is a gentleman, and as a right gentleman, he needs to please both of you, but definitely not in this way.

He removed his lips from your already sore nipple, adding a little pop in the end, making goosebombs appear all over your body. He leaned his forehead closer to yours, breathing heavily. You close your eyes, as you felt Javi's hard dick against your inner thigh, really close to where you need him the most.

"Do you want to know, why they called me pussy pleaser?" he whispered, his voice grainy. You breath out, quickly nodding your head. You could feel Javi's smile forming on his face.

Your breath stuck in your throat, as you felt Javi's fingers, touching you through your panties. He groans. ,,You're so wet cariño” he mutter under his breath as he examined your wet panties. You threw your head back and bite your lips, otherwise the whole street would hear your gripe. You've never in your entire life have been ever that desperate for man's touch, like now.

Javi was looking between your legs, how you eagerly wanted more pressure, by moving your hips into his touch. Javi snigger a bit at your pathetic behavior, but he was obsessed with it.

He decided not to tease you anymore, just for now, and gently moved your panties to the side so that they revealed your wet folds, which were dropping your juices already. He huffed at that look and look into your face.

Your lower lip was bleeding by how hard you bite it, just to stay quiet. You eyes were watery and your cheeks were red, all this combination give Javi clear signal, that you just desire to be already fucked.

He slowly touches your bloody lip with his thumb, gently wipes it. You look at him with anticipation, desire, lust. He took a deep breath, before inserting not one, but two of his fingers right into your wet throbbing core.

You close your eyes tightly and open your mouth wide, perfectly suitable for Javi's fingers. You wanted to throw your head back again, but you couldn't, because your mouth was now full of Javi's fingers.

He watched you, as he curls his ring and middle fingers, rubbing your walls slightly, while his other two fingers on the other hand were teasing your tongue. You understood this quickly, and started sucking his fingers, with your eyes closed. Your moans were suppressed by his fingers, and you felt so full. All excited, you couldn't help but start moving your hips to give yourself the pleasure you've been craving for so long.

"Oh bombón, no te han tocado en mucho tiempo, ¿verdad?" his Spanish accent just sent you to your edge much faster. The fact that he asked you, that you haven't been touched in a long time, is so fucking attractive, that you got even wetter down there.

You wanted to curse, but Javi's fingers were blocking you from all words, the only thing you could do was groan and moan, which you did with ease. His fingers inside you began to quicken their pace and adding intensity. You felt that you would cum soon, if Javi won't slow down, which he didn't.

Peña noticed your face, he observed your body language and he felt your hole tightening around his fingers, he knew you are coming, and he makes sure you remember it.

When you finally felt the weird feeling of peeing, you bit Javi's fingers and moaned as loud as you could. Your legs started shaking and your hole clench around his fingers so tightly, as you finally cum. Javi removed his fingers from you quickly to make you squirm, which you did. The juice flew out of you, spilling all over Javi's dick and legs.

It was an indescribable feeling of relaxation and emptying, your brows still furrowed and teeth bit deep into Javi's fingers, so deep they were sure to bleed.

Trying to catch your breath, you stare at Javi, eagerly. He couldn't stand the way you look at him without doing anything. He hurriedly cupped your face and kissed you, his tongue fighting with yours while both of your salivas mixed into each other. His member was twitching so hard, it was torture for him, but not anymore. He stopped the kiss and looked down, between both of your legs. He quickly adjusted him to enter without any problem, and as soon as you felt his pink tip touching your folds, he broke in, making you groan his name loudly.

,,~Javi~”

You screamed in pleasure, as you tugged his hair firmly, definitely ripping some of it off. Peña's groans against your neck make you feel butterflies in your stomach. His big thick dick expand your hole, finding that spongy place and touching it immediately, making you moan even more.

You ignored everything around you, your vision was so blurry that you had to close your eyes and focus only on the feeling of pleasure that Javi was giving you again. His precum and your juices started mixing together, making tasty liquid inside you. The wet sounds surrounded your entire office and the atmosphere in it started to smell like sex. Javi starts hissing, biting your neck desperately to prevent whining, which only weak boys do.

,,Mi cielo”

He groaned and place his forehead against yours, making you open your eyes and look on Javi's pleased face. Your hot breaths started sucking all the oxygen in your small space, your mind started going dizzy.

His balls were slapping against your ass, the sound was beautiful for Javi's ears. Javi was hungry, he wanted more, so he firmly grabbed your ass with both or his hands and pulled you closer to him as he plunged his cock much deeper into you. You whined Peña's name again, making your head fall back and bite your sore lips, you couldn't even feel them anymore.

The waves of pleasure were starting to get more intense as Javi hit his fastest pace. He began to sweat, grunting as you tried not to fall off the table that was shaking with you.

Javi felt he wouldn't last long and neither did you. A few more thrusts and he grabs you, holding you into embrace as he emptied his balls into you. He moved his hips after his climax few times, to make you cum too.

,,Javi-“

You groaned and reach your second climax. You ride your hips against Javi's to ride off the after-orgasm feeling, and as soon as Javi let you, you colaps on your desk.

Your chest moving up and down really fast, your eyes tightly closed and your core dripping the combination of your juices and Javi's cum. You both waited a little in this position, Javi's hands leaning against your desk as he tried to catch his breath too.

After few seconds, he finally decree to pull his member out of you. You both whined at the loss, both in different tones. Javi then leaned closer to you, giving a soft kiss on your forehead, before he leaned his face against yours. This was romantic moment, yet ridiculous. If someone caught you in this state in this situation, not only would you be fired, but you would certainly be laughed at. Fortunately, you were alone and no one could interrupt you from this moment, except time.

Your head was still spinning and your legs were shaking from the orgasm, so Javi took good care of you. He carefully sat you down and straightened you up, as he put your skirt back on carefully.

You just watched exhaustedly as Javi dressed you, kissing your feet and hands as if you belonged to him. You were still out of it and couldn't fully focus, like you were drunk, drunk by your own boss. When you were only half naked, Peña took his shirt and put it on you. You gave him a little help, ignoring the fact that the shirt was his. You could smell his parfume, that brought you back to reality.

When you were fully dressed, he did not forget to fasten the buttons, but left out the first three. You gave him a sincere smile as he dressed you, while he was completely naked himself. Although he is tough on the outside and in sex, deep down he is as sweet as a chocolate cake.

It didn't take long for Javi to get dressed pretty quickly, after all he was only half dressed, since he gave you another of his shirts. But when he looked down on the floor, he saw your bra. You watched as he took it into his hands and gently rubbed his finger over it, as if he was examining it fabric.

After while, he threw your bra over his shoulder, smilling at you. ,,New souvenir" he said, making both of you laugh. You then tried to stood up, but your legs were so weak, that you lost your balance and fell to the ground. Fortunately, Javi was quick and catch you, before something bad would have happened.

"Easy there hermossa" he lifted you to your feet and looked, if you could even stand. Unfortunately, even that didn't work, that's why Javi took you as a princess. "Well, at least you now know, why they call me the pussy pleaser"

════ ⋆★⋆ ════