#SEE I TRY TO STICK TO THE PROMPTS LOL

[golden-golem]

I am doing Drawtober, and this year it's Guild Wars 2 themed, using Pumpkinlollipop's prompts! Today's prompt is "strange company" and let me tell you, there is no one stranger than @what-the-flux 's Subject Z One Nine. He's more cryptid than asura, but he's somehow become a big brother figure to my character Lorlu. She doesn't mind how strange he is, and he seems to tolerate how weird she is.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Ahhhh I've been waiting for your requests to open, I've been following you since your first Price fic and never had an idea to request until like 2 weeks ago 😫 so, I've been thinking, what about being in a relationship with Keegan but getting separated when ODIN hits the earth and not meeting again until about 5 years later? 👀 Love your writing, hope you have a great day 🩵 :)

For The Weak And Weary

PAIRING: Keegan P. Russ x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: When ODIN struck you had thought he had died, sky alight with fire. It had taken years to accept it, much less live with it. But after Dallas falls, would you get a glimpse of your Lover's phantom again?

WORDCOUNT: 6.2k

WARNINGS: Angst, depressive thoughts, PTSD insinuations, gore, wounds, blood, death, canon-typical violence, (1) suggestive joke, alcohol, hallucinations, fluffy reunion, tears, verbal arguments, etc.

A/N: Just because I'm a sucker for sticking to the game timeline I made it ten years, lol. Enjoy, Anon! Very fun prompt.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You could never make sense of what Keegan went through in 2005 during Operation Sand Viper. It would be pointless to try and wrap your head around it from what little you knew. All that mattered was that when he came back on leave, something in his eyes was…damaged. Hell, he’d only been sixteen—the both of you had known each other since you were kids, you knew when something was wrong.

And this was entirely new to you.

He smiled less and snapped more; got spooked when you dropped something in his family's kitchen like a grenade had gone off. Maybe, you reasoned, he thought one actually had. 

But through it all, you could still see how much he cared about you. When you were old enough you’d both moved into a nice place in the suburbs and started a relationship—a life shared between the two of you. 

You knew he loved you from the way he’d grip you close at night and breathe into your scalp. How when you were sick from the take-out dinner he’d brought home, Keegan would hold back your hair and rub circles into your spine as you threw up. He never shied away from telling you how beautiful you were; prided himself on it. Keegan loved to show you off.

But there were times back then when you wondered if the same Keegan that had been so fulfilled to join Ghosts had died, and, in fact, a phantom was instead puppeting his skin. He was so quiet now.

If you’d known that the world was going to end on July 10th, 2017, you’d have never let him walk out that door angry. You would have grabbed his hand and pressed your lips to his, whispered affirmations into his flesh and sobbed at the cruelty of it all.

“I can’t keep pretending that you’re okay!” You yell, tears in your eyes, at the man standing tense in the kitchen doorway. Blank blue eyes stare lifelessly. “Keegan—this is killing you.” 

It was early morning by then, and the neighborhood was quiet. The house that the both of you had moved into years ago was littered with the remnants of a happy home. Pictures on the walls, dishes in the sink, and freshly baked bread on the counter. All you’d tried to do was give Keegan a hug, slipping your hands around his waist when you’d entered. 

He’d balked back, jerking to the side and nearly elbowed you in the gut before he saw your wide eyes and stopped himself. The way he’d looked at you…how could eyes be so dead?

“You need to talk to someone,” you put your foot down, shaking your head. “I-I don’t know a therapist or…or someone who can get you proper help because I can’t keep acting like I can live like this.” 

Every mission, every time he went away, it always got worse. 

Keegan’s eyes get sharp, hands at his sides clenching. He speaks in a low growl. “I don’t need to talk to a shrink, alright? I’m fine, you just startled me.”

“Bullshit,” your mouth hisses, glaring. “You thought you were back in ‘05.”

The man points at you, strong jaw clenching, “Don’t.”

“Keegan,” you plead, “please, I love you! I don’t care about this, I just want you to be alright. To be able to live your life—”

“What you want is to try and change me!” The black-haired man barks. Your eyes blink in shock. Keegan rarely yelled. “I already told you I was fine, why don’t you get off my back all the time?” His eyes flash, pupils going to slits as his hands shake at his sides. Why did he look scared? Your breath stills, lips slightly open, with tears dripping to the tile. “Fuck, it’s like I can’t come home without you pesterin’ me ‘bout something!” 

A stiff silence falls.

“Kee—” He snaps a hand to his mouth and rubs at his stubble, suddenly unable to look at you.

“...Forget it.” It’s low and shaky how he says it, eyes wide, before he darts into the foyer and slips into his boots. You listen to the sounds of panicked shuffling before the man wrenches open the front door and slams it shut behind him. One of the picture frames falls and hits the ground with a shattering of glass.

You flinch and tense, taking down a terse breath and sniffling tightly. Trying to get your lungs to work properly, your feet take you over to the picture as they feel weak and uneven; a stuttering mess of steps before you bend down. Your fingers bleed as they shift the glass away, taking out the image of you and Keegan on your hike through the mountains. 

Smiling faces mock you, and you break at the bright and open affection Keegan wears as he looks down at you—eyebrows curved up and smirk like a knife to the chest. 

You loved him so much it hurt to breathe when he was away. 

He had needed time, you knew, but what you didn’t know was that time wouldn’t be available. Around noon the world had opened into a ball of fire and death. 27 million dead. Los Angeles, San Diego, Phoenix, Houston, and Miami…all gone…at least, that was what everyone in Dallas was telling you. 

When Keegan had been away taking a walk to calm himself, you’d been home alone. The earth caved, the ground shook; houses burst like balloons. By the time you’d crawled from the rubble of your home, all you had was the picture and the clothes on your back. People were screaming—you were screaming. But you knew that you couldn’t stay here if you wanted to survive. 

And then you’d made it to Dallas by sheer luck and the few tricks Keegan had taught you; had thought that he had died in that first strike by the Federation. You carried that guilt and self-hatred for not holding your tongue for a few more hours. 

So much could have been different in these ten years. Better. You never got over him for even a second. 

But the reality was that you couldn’t think about all of that now, because if you didn’t focus on holding your breath you would be dead in the next three seconds. 

Your hand is anchored to the body of your sniper rifle, finger hovering over the trigger as you hide behind the outcropping of rubble in the decimated cityscape; the air is hot and humid despite the weight of the night. It sticks to your skin in a sheen of violent sweat. Yet it’s still not as potent as the blood. 

Teeth gritted, you hold back whimpers as Federation soldiers stalk the grounds, scores of them—legions. An entire army that had breached the walls and executed everyone insight, soldiers, civilians, if it once moved it didn’t anymore. The burning in your shoulder was agonizing, head smashing itself back to the rubble in an attempt to stifle your own ragged need to scream into the night as layers had peeled back to allow a bullet to pass through. 

In the ten years you’d been here, you’d taken up the mantle of quite the sharpshooter; pulling on Keegan’s lessons when he was on leave and wanted to bring you to the firing range. You had even picked a rifle similar to the one back in your destroyed home—held in a plastic case and treated like royalty by your long-deceased lover. It wasn’t the same, but the jet-black Lynx made you steady like the picture in your breast pocket did. 

A reminder of what was lost and why you had picked the knock-off up in the first place.

Footsteps get closer as the sweep of a flashlight cards above your skull, if possible you go even more still, lips pulled in and heart rampaging. There were barked orders and yelling, but no more screaming. 

How long had you been unconscious after taking that shot to the shoulder? Fear was breeding with horror—was…was everyone dead?

Spanish is loudly called not five feet away, and the flashlight leaves as your breath does. You let off a quiet gasp and suck down air greedily. Eyes flashing from one shadow to another, you look for any opportunity to slip away from the city. In the wind, you could smell fire, and taste it on your tongue as you licked your lips. 

All around you can see the limp shadows of bodies and the apartments, large skyscrapers were on fire deep in their frames. The city was entirely lost.

How the federation got into the walls you would never know, though there was concern about the enemy soldiers rounding up civilians outside the walls and executing them. Maybe one cracked before the bullet entered their skull.

You bite hard into your lip to force back your pain. Trying to shoot a rifle would be useless at this point, you might as well have lost the limb. Slinging the gun’s strap over your head, you look back and forth along your visible perimeter, checking for hostiles as you unsheathe your combat knife and cradle your limp arm to your chest. 

If only Keegan could see you now.

Rounds of gunfire make the air burn with urgency, and you take the time to peek out behind as sweat makes a trail down your dirty face, dripping off of your chin as you breathe like a wheezing dog. Your wound needed tending, and you had the med pack on your vest with the supplies, but you can’t do it here.

Where’s safe? If Dallas has fallen…is there anywhere that’s still standing? A location hits your brain as your gaze darts from one abandoned street to another. You take a deep breath and whine as you force your legs to stand and move quickly, feet shifting as quietly as you’re able to make them. 

“Fort Santa Monica.” Now a stronghold, you’d heard US soldiers here talking about the large presence of military power out in California—numbers so great they rivaled those that had lived in Dallas. 

You stumble over a spasming body and slam your uninjured shoulder into the bulk of the building’s wall, groaning loudly like a wounded boar. 

“Fuck!” If you made it out of the city, that would be where you would have to go; to warn them of what was coming. The Federation had found a way inside the Dallas wall, and that meant if they had enough tenacity, they could do it to them too. 

Everything would be done if another city fell.  

Holding your knife tighter, you push off the wall and grit your teeth harder, mind running on that edge of hysteria and forced calm. It’s in these moments where you have to pull on old memories to keep you going—even if they end up hurting more than the open wounds you carry. 

Keegan had his bad moments, but you always got through them together. Years and years of knowing each other inside and out; memorizing bodies and thoughts like they were second nature. He would want you to keep fighting, tell you to get your ass in gear and go…and you would never let him down. 

You owed him that much even if some days you wanted more than anything to join him. 

Blade in hand, you hear muttered speech from up the alleyway and pause, feet splayed but still swaying as you come to a slow stop. Your ears ring at garbled sentences, foreign words spilling into one another. 

Panting, you listen closely, limbs vibrating. More gunfire echoes over the air, screams and death that get ingrained into your head like a brand into sizzling flesh. Skyscrapers burned and buildings fell with great earthquake booms. Everything is under a sheen of distance.

Get out of the city. Get to Fort Santa Monica.

“Kill who I have to,” you slur out, itching at your neck as you leave a trail of blood behind you. A single pair of footsteps walk quickly forward near your corner and you hold your breath, bringing up your knife as pain pounds in your arm. 

Deep blue eyes sit in the back of your mind, counting you down as they always did.

Keep your arm steady for me, Doll, a phantom tells you. Breathe...

When the first shadow of a Fed soldier graces your eyes, you strike. 

—

It’s roughly nineteen days from Dallas to Santa Monica, and that was if you kept up at a steady walking pace. If the crude sling you’d fashioned from bandages found in your med pack was any indicator, it would be double that. 

On the first day, you had hiked half-dead over the destroyed landscape of what remained of the USA, licking your wounds and counting your losses. You’d had your pick of abandoned houses, taking a red brick one just because it looked nice and you were about to pass out from blood loss. The only reason you’d made it this far was that the bullet had thankfully passed right through you, making sure that if you moved too suddenly no more damage was being done internally. You packed it with a sterile rag.

Sitting in the home, pictures gathering dust on the fireplace mantle, you tipped back a bottle of whisky you’d found in one of the bedrooms, grimacing at the sting. It was better to be drunk for what you were about to do. 

Heating up your combat knife in the fire you had started in the hearth, you watched the metal grow an eye-flinching white as you stared off into nothingness. 

“You remember when you showed me that scar, Keegan?” You always talked to him. Others had given you shit for it, but they knew the purpose. If you didn’t talk to someone, even a ghost, you would give up. 

The guilt was eating you alive, and it would overtake you eventually. Hadn’t in ten years, but it would…you knew it, everyone did. 

Keegan was everything, and nothing looked the same when you lost him.

“The one on your thigh?” Pulling the knife back, you turn to the leaking flesh of your shoulder, gushing blood as black desecrates the sides of your eyes. You’d taken off your vest and shirt. If you tried hard enough you could imagine Keegan standing in the corner, watching. Always watching. “You said you had to dig a bullet out and cauterize the wound—when I asked you said you barely felt it over all the adrenaline.”

The ghost tilts its head, eyes sad and lips pulling taunt. Your lungs take in a shaky inhale and your hand quivers; only you feel how your eyes burn with unshed tears. 

“I never thought about it before,” right as you growl and shove the knife into your skin, you bark out in fear, “But I think you were fucking lying!” 

On day two, you knew you had to avoid the remains of Fort Worth, so you decided to increase your distance and cut that landmark out entirely—too many remnants of Federation. They were everywhere now, and you needed to keep low; get out of Texas. You scavenged properties and took stock. 

Four magazines for your Lynx, a pouch with five protein bars, one bottle of water attached to your belt, and your knife. Normally you’d have a pistol at your thigh, but you’d used it up in the firefight back home. When you’d woken back up, it had been gone.

And, of course, you had the picture. You kissed Keegan’s face and placed it back in your breast pocket, caressing the material softly before clearing your throat and addressing the obvious. 

With what you had getting to California was a pipe dream. 

You’d been on the radio all day, clicking through channels and pleading for anyone alive to reach out. Nothing. Static. 

I’m the only one left. The thought was intoxicating, pounding in your skull like your hangover. Everyone is dead. 

While you had become somewhat of a loner in the last ten years, especially with the few months you’d been by yourself in the beginning, Dallas had given you a chance to build bonds again. Ten years, and in an instant it was all wiped out. 

It rang a devastating bell.

Somehow, you had cheated death where so many others had failed—not only in Texas, but back with ODIN too. You had survived, but somehow Keegan hadn’t. 

Keegan, the one who never spoke about ‘05 and jerked awake from nightmares years later because of it. Keegan, who wanted nothing more than to stay at your side when he was home and keep you on his chest when watching movies. Keegan, the love of your life.

The only love of your life. 

“I really wish you were here,” you mutter, grimacing as your arm gets jostled as you stumble over a piece of rusted metal in the empty street. “Who gave you the right to go away before me, huh? We were supposed to grow old together, Russ. You promised me that.” 

Garbage gets blown over the road when a hot breeze shifts the air, bringing the scent of dirt and the noise of rustling trees. Nature has reclaimed the towns and suburbs—great patches of ivy and long grass that rise to your hips. But the silence was a curse.

The only thing keeping you going is the thought of delivering your warning to Santa Monica, from there…

Your lips thinned. What even was there left? How many times could you go from one place to another, starting over with stories of your past and having to brush the pitying looks off as you fake a smile? 

Shaking your head, you recall memories from the better days as the light gets low in the sky. 

“You’re doin’ too much, Sweet Thing,” Keegan mutters, and you turn from the stove top with a bright smile to face him. 

He had just gotten out of the shower, towel ruffling through his dark hair as he stands in the kitchen entrance and watches you cook for him. The shirt hangs off of his wide shoulders, and gray sweatpants are loose over his formed hips—his strong brow line raises in a casual expression. 

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t like it,” you tease, hearing his low chuckles as you turn back to your pan. “You look good, y’know.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Keegan grunts, smirking, and his feet pad over to you, tossing the towel to the counter as his presence looms over your back. Large hands grab onto your hips and a nose burrows into your hair; inhaling deeply before gradually melting to the curve of your spine. 

You smile and hum, pushing back so you can rest on his chest. A chin sets itself on your head, deep massaging fingers making you pur as they bunch your sleep shorts.

It was late—nearly two in the morning. Keegan had only gotten home a short while ago, but sleep wasn’t going to stop you from spoiling him. A wine bottle was on the island counter, two glasses, and the food was nearly done from what you could scrounge up on short notice.

“...Good to be back,” the man grumbles into you, kissing your head and slowly sweeping his arms around your waist as you sighed softly at the contact. 

Your face gains heat. 

“Well, I’d sure hope so, or else this would be awkward.” You huff to hide the bright smile in your voice. But like a moth to flame, you hear, as well as feel, Keegan chuckle against your spine. His grip squeezes you for a moment. 

“How was it when I was away?” He asks as you move around the contents in the pan, nose brushing your neck as his lips travel to kiss behind your ear. He breathes against the flesh as his low rasp makes you shiver. “Any trouble?”

“Negative, Sergeant,” you raise a brow and smirk over your shoulder at him, seeing his blues spark as he gazes hard into your eyes. A faint twitch to his lips is what you get before his hand captures your cheek; anchoring your face as he descends to connect his mouth to yours.

He sighs into it, arm still around your waist—tight as if you were a pillow. 

“Keep talkin’ like that and we won’t have to wait long for dessert, will we?” 

Days three through seven were uneventful beyond the constant agony of your arm and tired legs, but on day eight amid a waterless walk in the sweltering heat was when the hallucinations began. 

Keegan walks beside you, his footsteps mirroring your own as sweat pools down your forehead and drips off your nose. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t look at you—he just walks, looking exactly like he did the day he died. 

At first, you’d flinched back and blinked wildly at the sight, panting, but then he’d disappeared and your heart had shattered. It worried you with what you were seeing, but it was also a strange comfort to be able to ramble to…something, even if it wasn’t real. Hungry and with a dry tongue, you were on the verge of calling it quits.

So on day eleven, without a wild animal in sight to give you a proper food source and all the water having to be purified, you started talking to him while licking the inside wrapper of your last protein bar. 

“But I never understood why you hated sleeping in shirts,” you licked your lips to get the remnants of granola off of your flesh, pushing away the greasy sheen from your cheeks. Your arm was burning up—every heartbeat was felt as it moved the skin around red and infected flesh up and down. Puss was leaking out from the crude stitches you had made of embroidery thread from that first house you’d found. 

“And you always kept the room freezing.” Continuing, you drop the wrapper to the ground and then take the meat of your fingers and get what little flavor you can off of them, grunting through realization. “That was a ploy to have me use you for heat, wasn’t it? Jesus.” 

The man in the corner of your vision smirks, tilting his head and chuckling from where he leans against a tree trunk. 

“Yeah, that’s right. Knew it.” Glaring at nothing, you stand from your overturned stump and nearly fall right back over, stomach yelling at you as your vision swirls. 

You dig a hand into your hair and grip at the strands, pulling and groaning. “...God.” 

Keegan comes over and stands above you, your eyes staring down at his feet as you get light-headed. You focus on his shoelaces, counting the Xs and taking down shaky breaths. When you blink like a cat with dirt on its face, the shoes are gone entirely and you stand back up to your full height.

“...Keegan?” You ask after a moment, the words disappearing into the trees, but no one’s around. 

Your sight goes to your wound and your jaw tightens, moments of clarity slipping in as a knife would into your consciousness before the curtain settles once more. 

You bend over and vomit what little nutrients you had, spending day twelve sleeping through a fit of nightmares and fever-induced delirium.

Nothing about the remainder of the time you can recall to memory—bits and pieces always flash through on long nights, but they’re only walking montages. Dragging feet, looking at your hand as if it was a foreign object as you turned it back and forth; everything in a sheen of sickness. Days and days and days. Little food. Less water. 

More than one-thousand miles.

But somehow, the Wall peels out in front of you as you crash through the foliage, your body giving out and collapsing down a large decline. Bouncing and getting jostled by rocks, you come to a stop without the strength to get back up, staring blankly ahead as your head connects with concrete. Your mouth is open in broken inhales, pain not even registering. 

Shouts echo, the pound of rapid feet. 

Green eyes meet yours, a youthful face with a beanie and stubble. He’s saying something to you, glancing over your gear and your obvious near-death situation—his hand jostles the side of your face. But your eyes shift behind him gradually, attention falling to someone more important. 

Before you finally let yourself rest, you stare at the smiling face of your steadfast phantom.

—

The doctors and nurses at Fort Santa Monica were nice, if a bit secretive about the entire operation. Seeing as you weren’t an official soldier, no dog tags or patches—no name in the database—everyone was a bit hesitant to tell you anything. 

Until you said you were from Dallas, of course. 

But no one was eager to rush you in your state, even if the information was dire. You had been hooked up to an IV and bedridden for a week straight; talking to nothing on account of the dehydration and electrolyte imbalances. Some days you spend unconscious. 

But what really pissed you off when you got back into it, was the fact that they had taken your Lynx and your gear—your picture.

You’d almost grappled onto the first nurse you’d seen when you’d woken without it. It was a beacon, your prized possession of damaged corners and taped tears. Water damage that may or may not have been from sobbing fits in the first five years. 

In fact, that was the entire reason you had snuck out so late in the first place. 

Stalking down the hallway in the white shirt and camo pants that had been given to you on the fifth morning you had woken up here, you pad along with no shoes, only plain gray socks. You limp with bandaged flesh all along your healing shoulder and your feet. 

The doctor had explained that you’d entirely skinned the bottoms and your heels were a mess of blisters and open wounds. 

“Take my property,” you grumble under your breath, shuffling along and rubbing at the back of your neck. “What gives them the right?” 

You weren’t going to stop until you found it. 

Reading the name tags on the walls, you silently wonder where they would have taken your stuff as you slip out of the medical ward, listening to the buzzing of the lights and frowning. As you’re limping along the next hallway, a man suddenly turns the corner on nearly silent feet. 

“Woah!” You halt immediately, heart jumping in your chest. A hand catches your shoulder before you run headlong into him. 

Green eyes lock with your own, wide and blinking quickly. Brows furrow and you’re quickly looked over before a slow, teasing remark enters the air, you listen with a growing heat on your neck.

“Y’know, I could have sworn you were supposed to be in bed, Ma’am. I miss something here?” The man who had found you. 

“Wouldn’t know,” you say blandly, blinking up at him and taking a careful step back. This brunette had a casual air to him—still in his gear despite the time. He folds his arms and tilts his head at you, smirking. “If you’ll excuse me.” 

You begin to walk forward, slipping past him and hoping you won’t get snitched on. Except it seems you’ll be having a shadow, as not a few seconds later a smooth chuckle meets your ears and the man walks beside you. 

“I think I’ll be taggin’ along if you don’t mind. Security and all.” He turns to face you, sticking out his opposite hand. “Hesh.”

“That supposed to be some kind of nickname, Kid?” You raise a stiff brow but participate in the handshake nonetheless. His grip is firm but not hard. 

Hesh blinks at you, eyes swimming with amusement before he shrugs in a boyish way and shakes his head with a laugh. “Hell, you remind me of someone, Ma’am.” A moment passes in silence as you study the area. The man huffs, “Where exactly are we off to?” 

“Wonderland,” your lips grumble, tired and wanting to sleep but not until you find your picture. Hesh sighs but you can still hear the hilarity inside of it. 

“Alright then…don’t know if you’re going to be finding a shrinking potion anytime soon, though. We’re in low stock.”

“Very funny,” your eyes send a dry look, but you relent when he prods you with his eyes, taking a corner. “I’m looking for my vest.” Hesh blinks at you in curiosity, letting you elaborate as you motion to your upper shoulder. “My pouch has some of my personal belongings. I don’t like being away from it.” 

“Oh,” the brunette nods a few times, his beanie jerking along. “Yeah, that’s no problem.” A hand is waved and you stare in confusion as he pivots. “C’mon, I’ll get you there.” 

Your eyes burn into his back before you immediately speed after. 

“Why so eager to help?” Hesh smirks at your question. 

“As I see it, if you went over nineteen days of hard hiking just to get to us, you should at least be able to keep your stuff on you, Ma’am.” Your lips flicker in a smile. 

“You’d be the first.” You tell him your name and miss the slight emotion it provokes in his eyes, head lightly pulling to the side but ultimately saying nothing. Hesh shrugs with a grunt, leading you to a meeting room on the opposite side of the building. 

Yelling is on the other side.

“Elias, how long has this been kept from me?!” The voice makes your head perk, evoking something inside of your chest. Hesh seems taken aback too, holding up a hand to you for momentary silence—not that you had to be told. 

“Keegan, I can’t have that happen. She needs to recover and you being there could jeopardize that. We need what she knows about Dallas.” Your body stills to a near-frozen state, and it’s comedic how your entire face falls to a blank slate. Wait a second.

…Keegan?

“She belongs with me—I thought she fucking died and she’s been here for who knows how long?! Why wasn’t I informed?” Rampaging feet suddenly sound off, going to the door at break-neck speed.

“Son, that’s not a good idea. This is what I was worried would happen if you found out.”

“I didn’t exactly ask, did I? As far as I’m concerned, nothing else matters besides getting back to my Girl,” the bark is ferocious and violent, more of an animal’s than a man’s. “Now where the hell did you put her before I tear this damn fort apart and—” You shove at the door before Hesh can grab you, throwing it open and letting it hit the opposite wall with a great boom of wood. 

Your wild eyes instantaneously lock into sharp blues, pulse pounding in your ears. It’s like all the air is taken from your lungs in a great punch. 

Oh, he’s so similar to how you remembered him to be ten years ago. 

Keegan stands only a few feet away, turned in your direction with his eyes so wide and small you might faint. There’s black face paint in his sockets, making the cerulean all the more bright and shocking to the senses. He’s still tall, still built, if only a bit more rugged than when ODIN struck—there are lines on his forehead and his scars are more faded. Small differences in the way he holds himself like the difference between a rabbit and a hare. Keegan’s black locks are shorter now, but still…his.

Lips part in silent shock, an entire halt of your nervous system. 

The entire universe holds its tongue as you two stare at each other; walls and rooms blur into a mess of matter and reality—this couldn’t be real. 

Keegan’s feet shift for a moment as if to steady himself as his fingers twitch. In his hand, he holds your picture, his body covered in gear and weapons. He blinks as you tell yourself he’s a phantom, simply that same ghost come back to haunt you as tears sting the backs of your eyes. But then he speaks, and it’s the same voice you had slowly lost the ability to remember in year three. 

“...Sweetheart?”

His ghost never spoke. His ghost could not imitate the phonics of his speech or the rhythm of his throat. His ghost could not make you recall the memories you’d long since boxed up.

You jerk forward just as he does, bodies colliding into a feral grip of flesh and fabric, hands latching and faces burying. Sobs rip from you as Keegan’s shaky breath echoes right next to your ear—his chest hitching and arms snatching your waist and lifting you up as easily as he always had. He holds you up without any thought of putting you down, legging your legs dangle as Elias slowly exits the room and corrals a highly confused Hesh with him.

The door shuts, but neither of you notices. 

“Keegan—” Your voice is high with emotion, hardly believing what you're seeing—what you’re touching. “Oh, my God.” 

He had been alive all this time? Ten whole years and you’d thought he was dead. But by the way he was barely letting you breathe from in his iron clutch, you imagined Keegan had thought the same about you. It was…incomprehensible. 

“Shh,” he whispers, his shushes cracking and flinching between broken gasps of your name. “Shh.” He sets you down on the floor only to have his firm hands travel to your cheeks, turning your head to each side in a desperate need to understand if you were really there.

Keegan’s eyes are wet, but no tears let themselves fall quite yet. 

“I’m so sorry!” You hiccup and the man kisses your cheeks—your browline and nose. Every piece of you he can as you both stay so intimate you might melt into one another. “I thought you were gone, I-I should have stayed and looked for you, I didn’t—”

“You’re alive?” Keegan’s hands rub across your body, gripping and tugging you closer and closer. “My Girl’s alive?” 

His tears drip to your face as he hovers above you, and you both shake with the weight of years. 

“Me?” Your chuckle through sobs—you want to scream and wail at the same time. Blue eyes flutter and ragged breaths puff on your forehead. “What about you, you asshole?” 

Keegan shakes his head, and you stare deeply into him, hands coming up to cup his cheeks as he sags forward. He had stubble now, spreading out to grate your flesh. 

The man forces a weak huff. 

“Christ,” is all he mutters before he presses his lips to yours in a kiss so unyielding you expect to have your air stolen. Ten years to feel him kissing you again—to feel his warm flesh under your hands and his heart rampage into you. 

You’d do it all over if it still amounted to this.

Your body shivers and you reciprocate with just as much fervor; this emotion of relief is so overwhelming and all-consuming that it makes your head light. You suck down quick breaths between the sensation of your lips meeting, Keegan doing the same. 

Unconsciousness was better than letting him leave again, your lover sharing that sentiment as chests slid against one another. Soft hair slips through your fingers as you grip Keegan’s hair, cascading through locks as he groans into your lips and tries to hide his tears from you. 

He pulls away and immensely shoves his head into your neck. 

“You’re here,” he whispers quickly. A hand quivers at the back of your head as your tears wet his gear. “You’re right here. You came back to me, didn’t you, Doll?” 

You cry, “I’m here, Keegan.” The man sobs when he hears you say his name, his knees giving out as you both fall to the floor and not letting the other move beyond the caress of skin and lips.

“I missed you,” Keegan gasps, “so much. Don’t you understand? I was nothing without you. You took it all from me, everything. Every damn thing.” 

You press kisses to his neck and racing pulse, healing him inside and out without even realizing it; it was only fair, he was doing the same back to you. 

The picture lays long forgotten on the floor.

“Never let me go,” your voice forces out, as he rocks you back and forth like a child. “Never again, Keegan. Please, I love you too much to go through that again.”

“Never,” he immediately promises, pulling back and kissing your lips again—neither can stop themselves from this. Blues eyes blink quickly, cataloging your face and every little blemish he’d have to relearn and study; to find the story behind. Keegan had never been happier. He felt like he might break from it. “Over my dead body, I’m never lettin’ you out of my sight. You’re stuck with me.”

You laugh genuinely for the first time in ten years and say you’d like nothing better as he pulls you back in and plants his mouth to yours in reverent worship. His arms trapping you to him as yours do just the same.

Not to leave again anytime soon. 

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

[deadghosy]

Hello ! I wanted to ask if you can write a Hazbin Hotel x male!reader that is like a raccon please ?

Ignore it if you don't want to write it !!

(Unconnected, but I really love your writing. You have a real talent for this)

Sure lol! I also wanted to make them have the animal spirit of a raccoon so here you go! 🦆💗

HAZBIN HOTEL X RACCOON! READER

prompt: a ex-thief wants redemption to see his family

You stole shit..like lots of it to the point even your ex-teammates calls you a raccoon for your ability to steal like crazy. So when one of your teammates killed you because of they were jealous you got so much jewelry…. You fell into hell grumbling piss at seeing your ex teammate shoot you before you died.

You dusted off your outfit to fuckin' see you are a raccoon. (You can imagine reader to be a cubby raccoon or your body type 😘) but you gotta admit it fitted you as you looked to see an ad for a hotel that talks about redemption. You didn’t wanna stay in hell any longer as you smell the flames in your snout. So you go over to the hotel.

You stay at the hotel for months, getting the trust of the hotel staff as you live there. Charlie introduces herself in her dreams to you, making you feel at least as you should help her grow in her dreams of the hotel that she’s making out of this.

So you nod, accepting your be part of the exercises she does.

You either was given a red outfit just like Charlie and vaggie or just a black fit to match your mischievous personality. 

I can see reader literally just trying to wash their hand from the sink as Charlie pick them up and helps you wash your hands thinking you can’t change heights.

Lucifer picked you up because you’re the size of a raccoon so you kind of found it funny until you grow up in size as human size. Never in his life has Lucifer dropped a person so quick as you chuckled. 

“EW A RODENT” “EW A SHORT PERSON”

There was so much silence that the silence was loud as Lucifer gave you a “that’s not nice D:” face as you shrugged.

Raccoon! Reader and penguin! Reader would be cousins 😭

Like literally these two animal readers would be those cousins trying to get a sleepover by their moms.

Angel would probably set you up to steal from Valentino…I mean shit Italians stick together☝🏾

Niffty likes to groom you if you are in your raccoon size. Don’t run, you can’t out run Niffty and her cleaning tools ‼️

I can imagine you and sir Pentious being slight mutuals as you go through peoples trash bins and just collect metal for Pentious making Pentious give you something in return.

A cute headcannon is that you sometimes stick your tongue out when drinking something other than gulping it down.

Husk had gave you some water because you were dehydrated. And this man raised an eyebrow seeing you drink it like a cautious animal. Okay so maybe husk did pet you on your head as you were too busy drinking the water.

You are a slick bastard, you would literally pick pocket people without them even knowing it. Hell, you died with a talent because of this. But it’s sometimes hard to break bad habits.

I headcannon you bit a resident that tried to pickpocket off of you. You definitely gave them rabies with your sharp teeth as they started to spazz and pass out. Leaving you just standing there like. “Did I do that…😨”

I can see raccoon! Reader just being thrown by Angel when he wanted to catch some sinner who tried to take his drugs (pilot reference) and you got on the sinners head and fuck up their face🦆

It was definitely giving “PIKACHU, I CHOOSE YOU!” 😭

Okay so I gotta admit…I headcannon raccoon! Reader to have dug in the trash bins only to get scolded by Charlie as you had a banana peel on your head

I can see raccoon reader also having the personality of rigby, but more of a mature side to it a little. If you know what character I’m talking about hit me up 😘😍

As much as you seem playful and dumb at time, you’re really smart when you wanna be smart. You literally outsmarted Alastor at chess once which made alastor’s eyes widen at you.

I deadass headcannon raccoon! Reader to have like some kinda of accent. Probably Italian, but make it heavy and attractive. 😭🦆

But like if raccoon reader is Italian imagine the secret talks you and Angel do away from the others 😭😭 just two Italian boys planning world domination

Alastor doesn’t have any options on you other than you just stealing his cane makes him pissed off.

You stole his cane for a talent show down stairs that Charlie made. You were doing comedy until this mf grabbed the scuff of your neck and forced you to give it back.😭

STOP CAUSE YOU PROBABLY GOT LOCKED IN A TRASH BIN ONCE AND IT TOOK THE WHOLE CREW TO FIND YOU IN 2 DAYS😭😭

“Ewww…welp found them Charlie!” Alastor said picking you up over his shoulder with a wide grin as he slides down the dump stash.

You are in charge of the lost and found section of the hotel as you just go in room and find shit. I mean you would love to keep them to yourself but Charlie and vaggie knew you would try to steal. So that’s why they made you in charge of lost and found.

You and Angel once went on a hot girl shopping spree..well actually Angel brought you along since you two bond very well. You two legit bought shades together while Angel dust went shopping with you behind him holding his bags.

I headcannon raccoon! Reader to have a locket of his mom in his pocket at all times because before going to bed they kiss the locket and wish their mom a good night.

Charlie learnt you liked being pet from your head to your back as it helps you sleep better. She squeaks at your rare cuteness as she hears you let out a few cute snores.

You stole from husk making him grumble looking for his wallet only to see you come back whistling holding a bunch of groceries.

“Let me guess, you stole my fuckin' wallet?” “Whattt me stole whooo?” You said with a smirk putting down the groceries for husk as he grumbles snatching his wallet from you.

Husk and you have a weird friendship dynamic. It’s like you two hate but like each other. So it’s basically frenemies

When the angel fell down and came to fight, what did you do? Bitch you stole their heaven bucks and dead angel’s weapons. If you can’t beat em, wait for them to die😍

Adam literally seen you stealing money from tel he angels and was going to kill you when he felt his pockets…HIS WALLET WAS GONE?! HOW TF DID YOU TAKE HIS WALLET?!

“THAT LITTLE THIEVING SHIT TOOK MY WALLET?!” “ BUT SIR! THAT IMPOSSIBLE?” “NO SHIT!” Adam retorts at lute as Adam grumbles seeing your figure run away

After Adam had died, you ran his pockets…😭 devious ass shit-

The hotel crew just gave you a shocked looked after you stole half of his possessions.

You and Angel dust literally just be chilling and mess with husk a lot 😭 so now husk got two Italians annoying him lmao

Sir Pentious doesn’t like you because of how you sometimes sneak into his room or lab and steal some of his stuff just so you can have a little stash of something to remember the good old days when you were alive.

Sooner or later, you had given Pentious his stuff back remembering your mom might be in heaven. You miss her cooking.

I imagine raccoon! Reader to be a mama’s boy🤨☝🏾

You’re so use to playing dead as a raccoon, as you literally played dead in front of husk and angel making them scared you actually died….yeah you told them it was a prank and they got mad to the point they locked you out of the hotel.

“GUYS! LET ME IN DAMNIT! IT WAS JUST A JOKE! FELLAS?!”

[ancientgoddessofegypt]

Astro Notes : Short N' Sweet - Saturn's Theme

Saturn in the 1st - Emotional creatures, you just don't know it. Definitely isn't visible to the eye, they wear it well. They can handle themselves better than most. This is not only a compliment, but it also shows how they can be emotional stable even if they don't feel that way. Saturn here makes you grounded in the physical reality more. So you tend to get back on your feet quicker than most.

Saturn in the 2nd - Financial struggles at an earlier age has prompted them to force themselves into roles where getting to the bag is the higher goal. I mean, its a must. You gotta have it all, and they know how to get it. They're pretty practical here, and most can handle their advice when it comes to material needs and finances. They won't go crazy on the spending, but they'll at least make sure their needs are met.

Saturn in the 3rd - Prompt speakers. Intelligent leaders. Shapeshifters with their words. Charismatic thinkers that can charm you with their smile. Their needs are met when they have someone important to them that listens. When they're screaming inside, someone who just knows them well and can feel it without them saying anything is what they want. They are emotional readers, can sense danger ahead or when a problem is going to start.. Very majestic flow and auras. Problem solvers!

Saturn in the 4th - Soft spoken individuals who crave attention that isn't just when they're committing to labor. Not your mommy and daddy, so don't bring all your issues to them. Can be sweet and loving to people who are kind to them. They could turn this off quickly depending on who you are. Super swift, and can create a foundation like no other. After seeing what they were living with they know what is right for them and are committed to receiving it.

Saturn in the 5th - Teachers of the art. Self mastery at they're passions and hobbies comes at a price, but a great one at that. Can be an intellectual or an artistic. No matter what, its always a great time with them. Magical authors. Creative thinkers. Special characters they are. Life is art, & so they make it sweet.

Saturn in the 6th - Figures of authority. People who can manage a room. Natural leaders. People tend to make you the lead even if you don't like it. Can have a tendency to do more than what they need but this comes from a place of always over extending themselves to people. There is a time and place for all of it, this group has to allow themselves to be on the receiving end. Balance is key!

Saturn in the 7th - Captain save a ho's. Lol. Jokes. ;) But seriously, you see a damsel in the distress and you might try and change em. You can also be a great lover, that isn't up to debate. Very old school & traditional. Can be the life of the party. Needs somebody who keeps the momentum going. Can be alienated by authorative figures a lot, its because you're one of them, you just don't see it yet.

Saturn in the 8th - At a young age they knew they we're meant for something. Something that would shake the world. Secrets of the unknown tend to carry them to a long journey. A journey that leads them to their final destination. The path less spoken for, but the bravest tend to move mountains here. <3

Saturn in the 9th - Excellent learners. Yearn for something deeper. Could move into religion or stick to something that speaks to them and helps them grow in this lifetime. They are committed to whatever fits their beliefs, and they sit with them and mature into them gracefully.

Saturn in the 10th - The masters of what they came to achieve. They believed they could be more and so it was. A dream to be a prominent somebody, its a gift & a curse is it not? Spellbounding auras, and a respectable presence nonetheless.

Saturn in the 11th - Could only have 1 or 2 friends that mean the world to them. They're big on achieving goals not having a bunch of friends. Can be very standoffish but theres some history behind it. When they want to be, they can be very sweet and nurturing. Can bring acts of service to a group of people if its time to.

Saturn in the 12th - Creative thinkers. Beyond this realm. Have difficulties with aligning with sources that don't match their integrity. Can bring people to their knees with just their mind power. The truth is, they must choose wisely with what they ask for because saturn here blesses them with it. Be careful what you wish for ;) Its a commitment that changes things.

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x fem!reader / Pietro Maxmioff x fem!reader

Summary: Nothing is as it seems.

Prompt: "You look familiar. Where do I know you from?"

Warnings: crossover au, death, pietro, reader, and james are all sixteen, ending is very much up to interpretation (open-ended lol), confusing on purpose 😉

~ @simp-for-fictional-people this is SO niche and so different then anything I usually write! i hope this is what you wanted, lovie!! ~

ps: while i personally fan-cast James as Aaron Taylor-Johnson in my head and use him for headers, i try and write his physical descriptions more ambiguously in my other james works because i know there are plenty of other amazing James fan-casts (including poc!james, which i really love)! however, for this story's purposes, he's supposed to look like pietro 😁 ~

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

PIETRO MAXIMOFF MASTERLIST

BLURB MASTERLIST

Dead.

The word rings in your ears but you don't register it. You slide through the rubble, knees scraping the pavement to reach him. Alive? You hope as you see a glimmer of those blue eyes you love so much behind the strands of silver. You whisper his name, the letters feeling wrong on your tongue as you kneel beside him. 

You see the blood seeping through his costume and your heart sinks. Dead. Dead. Dead. It's a taunting chant as you push him up to lean his head on your knees, pushing his hair away from his eyes. His eyes, which are staring at you but there's no life behind them anymore. 

"No," your voice is shaky as you clutch him, your skin vibrating as your vision blurs. "No. No. No. No," you chant to counter the voice in your head. You bend over and kiss his forehead. No response. You try his cheek as tears stream down your cheeks. "Pietro," you plead, "wake up."

Anger courses your veins as his blood stains your hands. Your head is pounding so loudly you can barely think. 

Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead.

The team calls your name. You feel like the world around you is spinning as you feel your powers acting up as you hold him closer to you, crushing his face into your chest as you sob. You feel hot and misplaced as your head is throbbing. 

Your name is screamed again but this time, you can't even see them as a blinding green light surrounds you, catching the gimmer on your wrist—the small silver bracelet Pietro had given you for your sixteenth birthday—and you fall unconscious. Your head hits the pavement, making everything turn dark. 

His hand touches yours, the background blurry. He looks like a carefree kid again, those rosy cheeks so full of life and future. "Y/n/n, wake up," Pietro whispers, grinning as you stare into his blue eyes. "Wake up now."

You startle awake, sitting up as your chest heaves. You blink, dried tears still on your cheeks. You glance around the room, it looks ancient. You're dressed in clothes you don't immediately recognize as your head continues to throb.

From your bedside, a boy jumps up. He's wearing the same clothes, only his with red accents as opposed to your green ones. His dark hair is curled messily across his features and his glasses rest lopsided on his head. "Thank Merlin!" he exclaims, his British accent thick as he rushes up to you and leans over you, smiling. "Are you okay?"

You blink, looking at his features intensely. His smile, the way his nose curves, the swoop of his hair. His eyes. 

The same ones flash in your head. 

"You look familiar," you whisper, tilting your head with confusion, "Where do I know you from."

The boy laughs. "Y/n/n, it's me. It's James."

James? James? James? For some reason the name sticks on your tongue. You look at him as your memories rush back. James. Pietro? James. 

"Jamie, right," you shake your head, touching your scalp and frowning. "Shit, what happened?"

"You fell and hit your head pretty damn hard, love," James kisses your forehead tenderly. "Madam Pomfrey says you have a small concussion," he smiles and again you have a weird sense of déja-vu.

"I had the weirdest dream," you tell him and look down at your hands, almost expecting to see the green light from around them. Your frown deepens when you see the silver bracelet from your dream. You hold your wrist up. 

"James? Where did this come from?"

James looks at the bracelet and shrugs. "Why're you asking me? It's yours." 

You turn the bracelet around, frowning again as you see a hint of two small initials engraved onto the metal.

P.M

tags: @mischievousmoony, @sayitlikethecheese, @longlivedelusion, @fangirl-swagg, @tansgirlfriend, @brokeaesthetic , @lqrlei, @princesssunderworld

[kwanisms]

Kinktober 「10:09」 — k.seungmin

» stray kids menu | seungmin menu | kinktober masterlist «

➮ fallen angel!Seungmin × fem!Reader wc: 4.5k summary: His fall from grace had been due to his hard headedness and Seungmin’s status as a fallen one never really crossed his mind. At least until he met Y/N. He’d been dejected and grown disillusioned with life but upon meeting her, he started to see some meaning to life again. To put it simply -- Y/N made him feel alive. genres/themes/au: angst/fluff/smut; supernatural, horror, thriller; non idol au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, supernatural and horror themes, mentions of: past bodily harm (seungmin had his wings literally cut off), not-so-high-speed collision of person on a bike with an angel (Y/N runs Seungmin over with a bicycle lol), one baseball reference (cause I couldn't help myself), past crime life/criminal activity (glosses over it but its there); sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to reblogs join my taglists! kinktober taglist is closed! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you.  MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: i thought about revisiting vampire!Seungmin for kinktober but I changed my mind for fallen angel Seungmin. I like the direction I went with this and I tried to keep the wordy bits down so it wouldn't be too long. So far I've written a total of 45k for kinktober not including this piece so, words are wordin'. anyway, next piece is Yunho which I am very excited for so stick around! thank you for reading. if you liked this, pls consider reblogging so more people will see it and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), impact play (f receiving; spanking, pussy slapping), begging, unprotected sex (use condoms! ):< ), oral (f receiving, m receiving), fingering (f receiving), use of pet names (hers: kitten, baby, angel; his: Minnie, sir), dom!Seungmin, sub!Reader, and that should be everything but if I missed some, let me know! kinks: Impact play + begging dialogue prompt: ❛❛ Oh no. Not until you beg. ❜❜

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

Falling from heaven is not as graceful or as ethereal as one might think.

For Seungmin, it was painful, bloody, and nightmarish. The process is one no one could ever fathom. Being cast down from all you’ve known, thrown into a cruel, dark world with nothing and no one. The only thing more painful was having his wings removed. Even now, years since then, he could still feel the burn of the hot steel as it sliced through tendon and flesh.

When he first arrived on Earth, Seungmin had nothing. He had his name and his memories but a drive to survive and so he did, albeit not by the most legitimate of ways and he did fall into the wrong crowd but it was so much easier to climb the social ladder of the underworld than to try things the proper and legal way. After all, he didn’t even have a social security number, a line of credit, or even a last name.

Seungmin realized he was caught in the wrong crowd when the hideout he was in was raided. He barely managed to get away and broke into a convenience store to hide from the cops. He was confronted by the owner and instead of alerting the authorities to his location, the man took him in, giving him a place to live and a job.

It wasn’t much but it was something and it allowed Seungmin to start over. His old crew were all rounded up and seeing as no one knew who Seungmin actually was, they were never able to turn him in. He was safe. For now.

Seungmin ended up taking the last name of the man who took him in, a man who simply went by Mr. Kim, and came to regard him almost as a father figure. Mr. Kim owned a small convenience shop off the beaten path. Seungmin was given a room in the small apartment above the shop where Mr. Kim lived alone. 

His life had gone quiet but a sort of disquiet had settled over him, not knowing where he was going or what he was going to do with his life. He simply was going through the motions of life.

Until he met you.

You had come crashing into his life. Quite literally.

He’d been walking down the sidewalk on a particularly gray and gloomy day, running errands for Mr. Kim, when he heard a high pitched scream. It wasn’t a scream of terror or fear. It was more like a shriek of excitement. It was playful in nature.

Seungmin didn’t have time to even respond when he heard a voice screaming at him to move out of the way. He turned, finding someone on a pink bicycle hurtling towards him. “BRAKES! HIT THE BRAKES!” someone had cried but despite the brakes being squeezed, you still managed to crash into him.

It wasn’t like you were going all that fast, but it was enough to knock the wind out of him as you toppled off the bike onto him, pinning him to the sidewalk as the bike flipped over without your weight on it. You let out a groan, pushing yourself up and glancing towards the mangled heap that was your bike.

Seungmin stared up at you, blinking as he tried to process exactly what just happened.

“Oh my god,” you gasped. “I’m so sorry!” You quickly scrambled up, pulling him into a sitting position. You panicked, inspecting him all over, asking a plethora of questions. 

“What hurts?!” Nothing.

“Are you bleeding?” No.

“Did you hit your head?” Yes.

Your introduction to him was as violent as they come but his life completely turned around after meeting you. He finally had someone else to talk to. Someone he could spend time with outside of the convenience store and upon meeting you, Mr. Kim urged him to spend more time with you.

Your friendship grew, blossoming naturally over a short period of time and after knowing you for nearly a year, Seungmin couldn’t imagine his life without you.

You were vibrant, full of life, eccentric, and ecstatic about everything. You never seemed to have a bad day in the entire time Seungmin knew you and he found your optimism a refreshing new outlook that he started to adopt into his own life.

Of course, while you were very bright, bubbly, and vivacious, you were also extremely bratty. Seungmin often had to argue with you about things he thought he’d never have to argue with anyone about. Making sure you took medicine when you were sick was a chore and Seungmin came to realize you were only a brat because it pushed his buttons.

Especially today.

Mr. Kim had given him the day off and so he was at your place, a cute little studio apartment on the 14th floor of your building. It had an exposed brick exterior wall and floor to ceiling windows that spanned almost the entire wall. Outside the window was a fire escape where you had lots of plants as well as smaller potted plants sitting in the window. Your bed was sectioned off with a large cube storage unit and sheer curtains.

The living area was small and cozy with a flat screen television, a cream colored loveseat with lots of blankets and pillows. A coffee table that doubled as a dining table stood between the couch and the media center where you kept your gaming consoles and collection of games and movies.

The kitchen was also small. White cabinets hung on the walls where you kept your dishes. An island with a sink separated the kitchen from the living area and at the bar of the island stood three bar height chairs. Seungmin had arrived early, bringing food and drinks but they had long run out and you were whining at him to get more.

He sat on your couch, feet resting on the coffee table despite your insistence to remove them. You sat on the other cushion, next to him, wrapped up in your favorite blanket. Seungmin had arrived as you were opening your windows, saying it was a nice day out — it wasn’t, it was freezing — and that you and your plants needed the fresh air.

Despite insisting it was a nice day, you had immediately wrapped yourself in your blanket and curled up next to him on the couch, sapping the warmth from his body, not that he exactly minded. You had exhausted your movie library, picking the things you either hadn’t seen in a long time or at all which wasn’t much. 

Streaming services didn’t provide much of a difference in options so for the last hour, you’d been playing games on your phones, showing each other silly videos while enjoying the other’s presence. You’d finally grown bored of your game and were now pestering Seungmin into leaving to go get more snacks and drinks. 

“Why don’t we get food instead?” he asked as his little avatar died on screen and he shut the game off. “I think we need actual food, Y/N,” he added, locking the screen of his phone and turning his head to look at you. The urge to smile came over him because you looked sort of ridiculous wrapped up in your blanket so only your face was showing.

“But I don’t wanna!” you protested. “That means I have to get up.”

Seungmin rolled his eyes, throwing his head back against the back of the couch. “You’re so impossible,” he sighed before getting up with a groan. “Come on,” he said, holding his hand out. You shook your head, pulling your blanket tighter around you.

“Yah,” Seungmin said, giving you a playful but stern glare. “Get up,” he said, moving to stand in front of you, towering over your seated form. You shook your head wordlessly, staring up at him. He grabbed your blanket, tugging at it in an attempt to get you to listen. “No!” you squealed as he tried to pull the blanket harder. “You’re gonna rip it!”

Seungmin tugged harder. “Then let go so it doesn’t rip,” he countered. You glared at him. “It’s my blanket!” you reminded him. Seungmin tugged harder and you could have sworn you heard the material start to rip and so you let out a panicked whine and let go, allowing Seungmin to pull the blanket away.

“Alright,” he said, wading up the blanket and throwing it onto your bed. “Let’s go!”

You shivered, your once warm skin now exposed to the cool air filtering in from outside. “It’s cold!” you whined, curling in on yourself. Seungmin rolled his eyes and walked over. “Then get up and get changed,” he said, holding out his hand. You hesitated before taking his hand and then quickly tugging him towards you.

Unprepared, he lost his balance and fell onto the couch on top of you as you giggled, immediately hugging onto him like a koala. “So warm,” you murmured. Seungmin groaned trying to pull away from you but unsuccessfully. It wasn’t like you were all that strong, he just liked to indulge in some skinship with you from time to time.

“Okay,” Seungmin said. “You warm?” he asked. You nodded, smiling contentedly at him. “Good,” he said softly. “Now get up.” He tried again to pull away but you whined, holding onto him tighter so when he tried to get up, you moved with him.

“Y/N,” he scolded. “I’m not going to ask again. Get up.”

You looked up at him and he could see it before you even replied. A defiance in your eyes. 

“Make me.”

He didn’t know if it was because of your continuance to press his buttons mixed with the obvious tension between the two of you, but your resistance and disobedience made something in him snap. He quickly pulled your arms from around his neck, pinning you under him on the couch.

Your giggles died immediately as he leaned over you. Your eyes widened as you stared up at him. This was a side of him you hadn’t seen before nor had he planned on sharing but you really, really liked to push his buttons. 

Seungmin hesitated as he looked down at you, assessing whether or not he’d taken things too far but the look in your eyes, while being one of surprise, was also a look of eagerness and he could tell then that you wanted this as much as he did. 

He leaned in closer, testing your reaction, wondering if he should stop and when your eyes dipped down to look at his lips, he closed the distance, pressing his lips to yours for the first time. 

Your stomach fluttered as his lips moved against yours. It was entirely new but it felt completely right. Your lips parted at the same time, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You let out a soft moan, muffled by his mouth, as his thigh pressed against your cloth covered crotch.

Seungmin pulled away, lips ghosting over your ear. “Do that again,” he whispered, pressing his thigh against you again. You muffled your moan, biting into your bottom lip. Seungmin scoffed as he reached up, using his thumb to gently pull your lip from between your teeth. “You’re such a brat.”

You opened your mouth to respond and at that exact moment, he grinded his thigh against you, making you whimper. “It’s so much nicer when you listen to me,” he sighed, nuzzling into your neck. He let go of your wrists, moving his hands down to your sides.

“Are you still going to be a brat and fight me or are you gonna let me make you feel good?”

You whined in response as his hands cupped your chest over your shirt. “I take it that’s a yes?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. You nodded eagerly. Seungmin let out a low chuckle, hands sliding down your stomach until he could curl his fingers under the waistband of your shorts.

“Then these need to come off,” he murmured, pulling them down slowly past your thighs as you lifted your hips. He discarded them on the floor behind the couch, eyes drinking in your naked lower half. “Lace?” he asked, looking up from the crimson material to meet your gaze.

His eyes were dark, pupils blown as he moved his hands up your thighs towards your hips. “Be honest,” he said as he leaned over, pressing a kiss to your stomach. “Did you wear these for me?” You giggled as his tongue traced a line up your skin. “No,” you giggled. Seungmin pulled away with a slight frown.

“You mean you just wear these for no reason other than to wear them?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. You nodded silently, letting out a gasp when Seungmin delivered a sharp smack to the inside of your thigh. “Don’t lie to me,” he snapped.

“You don’t wear anything uncomfortable for long periods of time without a purpose,” he continued. “You told me so yourself.” A small smile spread across your face as you looked up at him, hands still resting by your head where he left them. “You always listen to everything I say?” you asked as his eyes wandered back down to the red material that barely covered anything.

“Yes,” he said simply, moving his hands up your sides, pushing the hem of your shirt up to just under your breast. He met your gaze once more. “Are you wearing a matching set?” he asked, tilting his head like a curious puppy. You giggled, shaking your head. His eyes narrowed. “If you’re lying to me, there will be consequences, you know that, right?” he asked. You nodded. “I know.”

Seungmin held your gaze as he pushed the shirt up over the swell of your breast, exposing the incriminating evidence of your red lace bralette. He made a tsk sound as his eyes fell to your chest, taking in the sight of the red contrasting with your skin, your nipples visible through the sheer material. He looked back up to meet your gaze. “You lied to me, again,” he muttered.

You watched with excited eyes as he sat back on his heels, looking down at you. “I told you there would be consequences,” he added. “I know,” you said softly. Seungmin sighed as he shifted on the couch so he was sitting before holding out a hand for you to take. “Are you going to be good and take your punishment or am I going to have to force you?”

You took his hand, allowing him to pull you up and over his lap so you were lying on your stomach. You felt one of his hands move to your ass, fingers skimming over the lace as he inspected the sight. His other arm held you down. One of his fingers slid under the material of your panties, sliding it over to expose your cheek.

“I want you to count,” he said softly as his hand returned to your bare cheek. “How many?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder. Seungmin looked up from your ass, meeting your eyes with his. He had a dark look in them, something that both excited and sent a chill down your spine.

“Until I say so.”

By the time Seungmin finally did tell you to stop counting, your ass was sore. The skin burned and your body was aching, as was your cunt. You needed release and you were practically dripping. “Seungmin,” you whined. “I need release.”

Seungmin scoffed, moving his hand to pull your panties aside while he traced your folds with two fingers, spreading them slowly. The cool air against your hot cunt felt both foreign but oddly wonderful. “So needy,” Seungmin murmured, sliding the tips of his fingers between your lips, gathering your wetness before slowly pushing them into your hole.

You let out a pornographic moan, the sound resonating around the apartment. Seungmin felt his cock twitch in his pants, straining against the material of his underwear and aching to be freed. ‘Not yet,’ he told himself. ‘Not until Y/N proves she can behave.’ 

You moaned loudly as he pumped his fingers in and out of your sopping cunt, lightly scissoring them and curling them against your walls. “Seungmin. More,” you gasped, making him chuckle. “More?” he asked. “I have two fingers stuffed in you and that’s not enough?”

You shook your head as he sped up. He delivered a sharp smack to your sore ass. “Words, kitten,” he cooed. “N-no!” you stammered. “No you don’t want to use words?” he asked. “No!” you said quickly. “It’s not enough! I need more!” you clarified. Seungmin shook his head. “Such a greedy little baby.”

He obliged, giving you a third finger, opening you up to take his cock easily but he wasn’t about to give it to you that quickly. Your moans grew in pitch and volume as he fucked you with his fingers. He could feel you start to shake, your walls clenching rhythmically around him. “Don’t you fucking cum yet,” he growled, pulling his fingers from your hole, making you whine in protest.

“But Minnie!” you complained. He nudged you, signaling you to sit up. “Do you want me to fuck you here, on your couch, or over there,” he asked, jerking his thumb over his shoulder towards your bed. “Where I’m sure it’s much more comfortable.”

You grumbled softly as he got up, grabbing your hand and all but dragging you over to the bed, stepping up onto the small platform upon which your bed stood.

He turned your back towards the bed, moving his hands to quickly strip you of your shirt and bralette. “Sit,” he instructed but you didn’t listen, instead trying to pull at his clothes. He grabbed your hands, bringing your wrists together to hold with one hand and grabbing your chin with the other.

“If you don’t listen to me, I won’t let you cum at all, understand?” You nodded quickly and as soon as he let go, you sat on the bed, looking up at him. “Good, kitten,” he said, cupping your chin, moving his thumb to brush over your bottom lip. “I need you to do something for me,” he said, moving his hands to undo his buckle. “And then I promise I’ll make you feel really good”

You nodded, keeping your eyes locked on his as he unzipped his pants. “Do me a favor and put that mouth to good use, yeah?” he asked, pushing his jeans down past his hips. Your eyes roamed down his body, taking in the outline of his hard cock behind the dark blue color of his underwear. 

You could see it was straining against the fabric, begging to be freed. Your hands trembled slightly as you reached to pull the front of his boxer briefs down. Seungmin quickly grabbed your hands, stopping you. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, the dominant persona he’d taken on dissipating for a moment as he gave you a look of concern. You nodded, giving him a smile.

“Just nervous,” you whispered. He caressed your cheek gently. “You don’t have to be nervous,” he said softly. “It’s just me.” You nodded, swallowing thickly as you returned your attention to the task before you.

Your fingers snuck under the waistband of his underwear, pulling it down in one swift motion and freeing his cock. You stared at it in awe, saliva starting to pool in your mouth at the sight of it bobbing before you. Wrapping your fingers around the base of the shaft, you looked up at Seungmin for confirmation to keep going. He merely nodded, watching as your lips parted and you gave the tip of his cock a kitten lick. He let out a hiss but was unable to catch his breath as you immediately went back in, tongue swirling around his cockhead.

“Fuck,” he hissed, eyes fluttering shut as your mouth enveloped his cock, taking it as far as you could in one go. “You’ve done this before,” he groaned as you pulled back, cheeks hollowing as you sucked. Seungmin let out a sigh as you took him back into your mouth, the tip of his cock barely brushing the back of your throat.

“Keep going, baby,” he murmured, resting his hand on the back of your head, pulling you closer. You gagged as the head of his cock tried to push into your throat. “Shit,” he gasped as he let go and you pulled back, coughing. “Sorry,” he murmured. “We can stop if you’d — oh fuck!”

His words were cut off when you took his cock back into your mouth, keeping your hand firmly wrapped around the base as you started to bob your head, taking everything up until you hand. Seungmin let out a choked moan, throwing his head back as you continued to suck him off, now moving your hand as you pulled back.

You let his cock fall from your mouth, continuing to stroke him quickly. Too quickly. He had to stop you before he came. He didn’t want to cum on your face or chest or in your mouth. “S-st-stop,” he stammered, moving his hand to try and grab yours but missing. “Y/N,” he said, a little more firmly. “Baby, stop.” You finally looked up at him, hand stalling but his cock still firmly in your grasp.

“Did I do something wrong?” you asked as he pulled your hand off him and slowly knelt down at the edge of your bed. “No,” he murmured, pulling you into a kiss. “You were perfect. I just wasn’t ready to finish,” he added. “Lay back,” he instructed.

As you laid back against the soft material of your comforter, Seungmin took that opportunity to rid himself of his clothes. You started to scoot back towards the middle of the bed but he stopped you. “Here,” he said softly. “I want your ass hanging over the edge of the bed.”

You pouted at him. “But I’ll fall,” you protested. He shook his head as he knelt down. “Just trust me, angel. Do as I say or am I going to have to punish you again?” You shook your head, moving until your hips were hanging off the edge of the bed. You watched as he slipped your panties off before he shrugged your legs over his shoulders, his hands grabbing your hips and holding them in place as he licked his lips.

“Minnie,” you cooed, reaching down to comb your fingers through his dark hair. He looked up at you, his dark gaze meeting yours and making a fresh wave of arousal course through you. “Can’t you just fuck me?” you asked as sweetly as possible. Seungmin chuckled, shaking his head. “No,” he answered. You frowned at him. “Why not? You’ll find I’m more than ready to take it,” you answered.

Seungmin merely chuckled again. “No,” he answered again. “I want a taste first.” 

The words on the tip of your tongue died as you felt him spread your folds and his tongue run from your hole to your clit. The moment his tongue met the nub, he sucked on it, making your thighs involuntarily try to close around his head but he moved his hands, wrapping his arms around your thighs to hold them open and keeping you firmly in place.

You were left to the mercy of his tongue as his mouth ravaged your clit. One of your hands moved to grab the bedding by your head in a tight fist while the other combed through Seungmin’s hair, grabbing a handful of the locks. Each time he flicked his tongue, your body jerked and you cried out. 

“M-Minnie. M’gonna cum!”

Seungmin pulled back and you whined only to receive a slap to your pussy which made you gasp, thighs twitching. “You don’t cum until I say so, understand?” You nodded quickly, your orgasm slowly slipping away. Seungmin’s mouth returned, attacking your clit with quick flicks of his tongue until the sensation started to rise again, tension building in your stomach.

“Minnie, I’m close,” you warned him. “Hold it back,” he retorted. “Don’t make me punish you again.”

You bit your tongue, trying to will away the tension and the building orgasm. “I-I don’t think I can,” you sobbed. Seungmin pulled back, delivering another slap to your sex. “Such an impatient and greedy kitten,” he snapped. “Can’t even wait a minute more.”

“Just fuck me then,” you retorted. Seungmin scoffed, almost mockingly. “Oh no,” he said, landing another slap on your clit. “Not until you beg.” You whimpered. If that was all he needed, you could do that. “You should have just said so,” you gasped. “Please Seungmin. Please give me your cock. I want it. I need it.” 

“You need it, huh?” Seungmin asked, brushing his fingers over your clit languidly. He wasn’t trying to bring you to climax, simply giving you some friction while he listened to you. 

“How bad do you want it?”

“I want it so bad, please,” you sobbed. “I promise I’ll be good. I’ll do everything you say but please Minnie, please fuck me.” You needed him inside you so bad and you weren’t above begging if that’s what he wanted you to do. “One more time,” he cooed. “What do you want?”

“I want your cock, Seungmin. I want you to fuck me!” you snapped. Seungmin moved quickly, letting your legs fall back as he climbed over you. “Middle of the bed, on your hands and knees, now,” he growled. You scrambled to get up, moving into place and presenting yourself to him. He kneeled behind you, hands grabbing your ass and kneading.

“I’m going to fuck you how I want to,” he started as he leaned over your back, the tip of his cock brushing against the inside of your thigh. “If it’s too much for you, say ‘pitcher’s mound,’ understand?” he asked. You nodded. A smack rang out as he landed a slap to your ass over the same side he’d made sore earlier.

“Words, kitten. We use our words,” he snapped. “Yes, sir!” you gasped out, your backside burning. He gently ran his hand over the spot soothingly. “What do you say if you need me to stop?” he asked, leaning over your back and whispering in your ear. “Pitcher’s mound,” you replied softly. You felt him press a tender kiss to your shoulder. “Good,” he cooed.

You felt the tip of his cock press against your entrance and without any resistance, he pushed into you. Once the head was firmly lodged inside you, he snapped his hips, pulling you back to meet his thrust and filling you with one stroke.

You cried out in both pleasure and pain as he buried his cock to the hilt inside you. Seungmin still, thumbs rubbing circular patterns into your skin as he held your hips. He waited for the spasming of your walls to cease before he pulled back, giving you a shallow thrust which made you moan softly.

“Any pain?” he asked quietly. “No,” you replied, shaking your head. “Good,” Seungmin said simply, tightening his hold on your hips. “Remember your safeword,” he reminded you. 

“Cause I’m not stopping until you’re screaming.”

©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me.

[finnbbl]

Hey, I saw your requests are open. Would you write something for 3Racha where something sad happens and the reader turns non-verbal to try and cope with it?

It's just a problem that I always have and I would like to know how you think the boys would react :)

3Racha when you’re nonverbal

3Racha Written

Prompt: Being friends with the main producers of a music group had its perks. But when you’re asked to accompany them a certain gathering, you hesitate when you figure out who will be there.

Genre: Angst/Comfort

Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Implications of trauma, alcohol and dr*g mention, I don’t think there’s any swearing, reader goes nonverbal.

A/N: I wanted to first start off by saying I apologize it took me a bit to get out. I’ve been in my own slump and I’ve found it super hard to find motivation for anything, especially writing and posting.

I wasn’t sure if you wanted a specific incident to happen where the reader goes non verbal, so I hope this is okay. I also wasn’t sure if you wanted it romantic or not, so I just kind of wrote what felt right in the moment. I tried to leave the situation vague so it could match with anyone’s experiences. I personally don’t like it too much (I honestly hate my writing so it could just be that LOL) so I can make a separate post with a text version, of course it would be a little bit different than this. Please let me know your thoughts 🙏

Requests - OPEN

Masterlist

Please read disclaimer in masterlist

Parties were the absolute worst. If you were forced to choose a least favorite thing on the planet, parties would be it. They’re loud and crowded; Worst of all, he’s always there.

3Racha had been nominated for an award. They had been invited to a big award show, a one where afterparties usually follow. You were incredibly proud of them, knowing just how hard they worked. They meant the absolute world to you, and to see them put their best foot forward and exceed tipped you over the moon. Previously, you’d turn them down when they’d ask you to attend with them, and you had a very good reason. Firstly, parties just weren’t your thing. You never fit in with everyone else growing up. Secondly, you knew that he was going to be there. You didn’t know what to call him. Putting a label on things had never felt right to you before. If someone were to ask him, he’d tell them you were together. But if someone were to ask you, you’d say it was complicated and you were content with how things were. You did that with everyone that seemed to be more than friends with you, commitment was a scary thing. But you did know that he was someone you never wanted to be around ever again.

You remember the way he’d always ask you to accompany him to one. He was the partier in the “relationship.” However, you’d always preferred to stay in. Nice and cozy in your blankets. One night, you decided to try and get out of your comfort zone. You wore something different, and put effort into your appearance. The moment he let his hand “accidentally” linger over your ass was the first sign of a mistake. The night only went downhill from there. Next thing you knew you were drugged and taken advantage of. It took you months to recover, months to find the will to get out of bed. Only Chan out of the three knew of this incident, but only very very vaguely. He only found out because he was the one nursing you back to your normal self again. You avoided giving him details, he doesn’t know the person, time, nor the place. You wanted to stick to using being tired as an excuse to politely turn them down. There was no way you could let them find out that you were just too weak to attend said gathering, especially because they don’t know what happened.

You listened to the boys explain how excited they were for this one. How this was such a big award, and how it was going to be so much different. The excitement that laced their voices made it hard for you to deny the question you knew was coming. “Do you think you could go with us this time?” They knew the answer every time they asked this question. A hesitant no, almost as if you were thinking about it. In reality, your mind was fighting off bad memories. It was hard not to think of it when even the topic was brought up, there’s no way you could bring yourself to revisit the place it happened. He was always going to be there, just like he was at every one while you knew him. Again, parties were his thing. So you were confident no matter which one you attended, he would be there. You were scared, to say the least. Scared of seeing him, scared of being pushed back into that dark room, scared of reliving what had made you feel so lifeless.

However, Han’s unintentional puppy eyes drew you closer and closer to the edge. How you wanted to see them happy. You weren’t sure if it was only platonic or if there was some hint of romantic feelings for them there, but you knew you loved them so much. Although the three knew the usual answer, they still proceeded to ask. They felt as they should always invite you, even if they know what your answer would be. However, this time you surprised them. With a quick purse of your lips, the words fell from your mouth. “Fine, but only this once.” The way their faces lit up when you agreed to go to with them brought a smile to your face. Though it quickly dissipated as your brain grabbed back at those awful memories. The guys were too lost in excitement to notice, but you’d prefer it that way. Everyone else had their own problems, so you hated adding your own on top of them.

The last few nights leading up to the award ceremony were filled with anxiety. Sleepovers with Chan were a mutually agreed way to get both of your minds off of stress. However your anxiety still managed to claw its way through what was supposed to be a comforting barrier with him. Chan was next to you, fast asleep which was something that was rare for him. Meanwhile, you silently cried next to him. Hours passed and you were still unable to fall asleep, too busy fighting off the horrible memories. Horrible memories of a time in your life that left you numb. You couldn’t shake it, knowing that he was going to be there. He was a popular artist, and you’d already checked the lineup for the event. His name was there, and now you were petrified. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell them you changed your mind. They were so excited, so you dealt with it.

The night of the party arrived. You’d isolated yourself for the day, hoping to prepare yourself enough for what was about to come. Hours passed and next thing you knew you were sat between Chan and Changbin on a fancy couch. Despite it being a fancy event, Han sat on the back of the couch with his feet on either side of you, his hands slowly running through your hair. It was a common thing for you to do with the three, often being very touchy with each other. It was to the point where you questioned if you were more than friends. While you didn’t kiss, or do anything beyond that, you were very hands on. Cuddling, hugging, playing with each others hair or outfits, you name it. However, you couldn’t decipher whether it was platonic or if there was a hint of romance in there.

Suddenly, an all too familiar voice snapped you out of the peaceful thoughts that managed to distract you for.. at least a little while. Soon enough, your worst fear of the night happened. He placed himself on the couch right across from you guys. The first 20 minutes or so, he had the subtlety evil smirk on his face.

However, you knew it would dissipate sooner or later. Based on your experience with him, he was an extremely jealous person. And given, how important skin-ship was to you and the three boys, it was only a matter of time. It happened when Han noticed you were quieter all of the sudden. His fingers came to a slow stop in your hair to travel down to your shoulder. His head leaning down to your ear to whisper something.

“Are you alright, jagiya?”

It was quiet, quiet enough where only those within a 3 inch radius could hear. So you wonder why you saw that man who you feared, drop his smirk to a frown. Maybe he read Han’s lips and noticed the word ‘jagiya’ ? Either way, you ignored it, and with a nod and a small smile which was noticeably forced, you brushed off Han’s worries insisting you were just tired. Changbin took notice of his member’s concern, and leaned in close to reassure you that the event would be over soon. You gave him the same smile and quietly thanked him.

Thats when he suddenly started staring daggers at you from across the room, his hand clenching onto the almost empty soju bottle. He was drunk, for sure. That had to have been the scariest part. It only added more fuel to the fire, you were silenced. Except nothing was physically stopping you from speaking. Your head dropped down, staring at your nails that now started to dig into the palms of your and in an attempt to quiet the voices in your mind. It was a bad habit you picked up when you got anxious. Recently, it’d been worse so you currently had crescent shaped markings left behind on the center of your hand. Han noticed the tension in your body, and leaned down to express his concern once again.

“Are you sure you’re alright? You’re very tense.”

No response. As much as you wanted to reassure him that everything was okay, you couldn’t. It felt as if your throat was closing up, you couldn’t speak or move. You were anxious, overstimulated and all you wanted to do was jump out of the window. Anything to escape.

Your eyes were now staring daggers into the floor, and your body was completely still. Did you even hear him? He wondered at your lack of response, however it didn’t take long for him to pick up on it. But before he could say anything else, Chan’s hand gently but swiftly grabbed yours. Holding your hands in such a way that your nails couldn’t fight their way through your skin again. Chan was a very observant person, so it didn’t take him very long to notice the marks on your hands. That’s when Han recognized what was going on, Changbin following in their suit not but a few moments later. Once again, Han leaned down to say something. He was well aware that you were nonverbal right now, but he said it anyways hoping you could at least muster the energy to tell him you wanted to leave. You suddenly felt a hand on either shoulder, which were now rubbing soothingly into your tense muscles. “Do you want to leave? Chan still has to say his goodbyes to everyone, but I can take you outside.” This sentence was whispered into your ear, and the word ‘leave’ sparked your attention. You nodded almost too eagerly.

With that, Han motioned for you to stand up, saying something to you excuse yourselves. Chan let your hands slip out of his, looking over at his band mate and Changbin to silently communicate everyone would be leaving soon. You were unsure of what he said, now focused on not making eye contact with a certain someone right across from you. The closer to you that Han got, the more anger you could feel emitting off of the man in front. That only left you more anxious. Suddenly, Han put his arm around your waist gently to guide you out. The anxiety started to die down as you stepped out of the building, but the tears you were fighting didn’t. “You okay?” Han softly questioned as your eyes looked up to meet his. It took him not but a brief moment to notice your glossy eyes. He immediately pulled you in for a hug, which caused you to break down. Still unable to speak, you only mumbled out incoherent words that the male tried so hard to pick up on. Fortunately for him, he was able to make out a few words which told him everything he needed to know.

You felt unsafe is what it was. Although he wasn’t sure why, it was a step. Han would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t sense anger and tension in the room. The reason was what he couldn’t figure out. His head rested on yours, gently rocking you back and forth hoping to calm you down. Suddenly the door opened, but you remained still. As Chan and Changbin walked over, your breathing began to slow down. “Sorry n/n, I did my best to get us out as soon as possible. They don’t know when to shut up.” Chan apologized and rubbed his hand up and down your back. “Come on, we’ll talk later. Let’s get her out of here.”

Once you all arrived home, everyone went to their dorms. Except you stayed back at Chan and Jeongin’s. Although the younger was in the middle of a brand deal, which left you and the latter alone in the dorm. The trio agreed it would be better if you stayed with one of them for the night, so they decided on the leader’s as it would be the calmest. Your body lay next to him on his comfortable mattress, the lights set to a soft and comforting purple color with the tv playing a movie on the lowest volume. The male laying next to you, with his hand running up and down your back. Your eyes followed the movements of the character on the screen, but your brain wasn’t absorbing any of the plot. It was obvious this was a difficult night for you, but Chan just had to know.

“Feel free to not answer, I know you’re still not in a talking mood..” He led on, and your head raised to make eye contact with him. “Was that the guy… from you know.”

You did know, you knew exactly what he was talking about. Your facial features remained still, looking back and forth between both of his eyes as you mustered up the energy to get some form of response out. With that, you only nodded before turning back to the movie. Chan could swear he felt his heart break and everything suddenly clicked in his mind. If he had known it would only cause you anxiety, then he wouldn’t have pestered you to go for so long. “I am sooo sorry y/n.” His other arm found its way around you as he rested his head on yours. “We wouldn’t have pressed so hard if we knew what was going on.”

Although you didn’t respond, your hand found its way to his and gave him a light squeeze to reassure him that it was okay. “I know I don’t know the whole story but you can always talk to me about how you’re feeling, alright?” A small smile formed on your lips and your head nodded against his, nuzzling further. He let out a light and squeaky giggle as he ran his fingers over your knuckle gently. It was in this moment that you realized it was all going to be okay.

[xxsycamore]

🔞IKEMEN BREEDING SEASON🔞 - XXSYCAMORE'S 2000 FOLLOWERS CELEBRATION EVENT

On October 28th, 2024, this blog hit 2K followers! Once again, thank you, everyone, for the support, and for sticking around in my writing adventures. I hope you can continue enjoying my work! Now, our previous milestone celebrations were all about fluffy short stories, so I figured it's high time we bring some smut into the mix. Even though spring would have been perfect for the Ikemen Breeding Season, I decided, why wait when we can have it now. Besides, that time is reserved for part 2 of our Steal My Heart!! (1500 followers) event! If you have placed a request for it and haven't received a ficlet yet, don't worry, I haven't deleted anything! :)

➺ PROMPTS

How do you want the suitor to breed you (or the MC)? :

In the heat of the moment

As proof that you belong to them

To produce an heir

With a chance for twins

While imagining you being pregnant

Making sure that it takes

Making the moment special

When they'd already gotten you pregnant before

With you taking the lead

While you're in heat (Omegaverse)

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ 2 separate request openings - Since in the past there have been times when everything has been grabbed in the first 10 minutes from the announcement, I decided it would only be fair for the people in different time zones if I divide it into two batches at different times of the day.

FIRST REQUEST OPENING WILL HAPPEN ON OCTOBER 30TH, 12 PM UTC (8 AM EDT) (or click here to see it converted to your time zone)

SECOND REQUEST OPENING WILL HAPPEN ON OCTOBER 31TH, 12 AM UTC (8 PM EDT on the 30th) (or click here to see it converted to your time zone)

Both request openings will be closed after I get a total of 15 requests each! I will make separate posts to announce when those start and close.

➺ RULES:

Understand that these are going to be short NSFW stories, around 500 words each.

Anonymous asks are allowed, but please don't abuse my kindness and don't request if you're a minor!

Pick a character from the list below and a prompt from the prompt list. Threesomes are allowed, so long as no one is related, lol.

Be sure to let me know if you want MC x Suitor(s) or Reader x Suitor(s). If you don't specify, I'll write it as I see fit!

Specify your gender preferences if you have any! If you selected "Reader", I'll by default write them with afab traits. This goes especially for the prompt "Imagining you pregnant" where you could encounter terms including but not limited to: breasts, lactation, love handles, vagina, ovulation, womb, ovaries, pregnant bellies, you get the picture. To bypass all of this, you can ask for a Gender Neutral Reader, or you can be more specific and tell me your preferences in detail.

Mpreg is welcome, sure, why not. This goes both for Male Readers and for Getting your suitor pregnant, like in the case where you picked the Omegaverse prompt and he's an Omega. Go wild.

OCs are NOT allowed, due to how short these stories are going to be versus the research required in order to do justice to your OC. Sorry!

Don't send multiple requests! One per person. Again, I'm put my trust in you about not abusing the anon option.

In the event where I've already received the same prompt with the same character, I'll only write it once!

Don't hesitate to give me details! :) I want to create a work specially crafted for you. If you have a whole scenario in mind, I'd love to hear it, even if I have to squeeze it in the word limit. Where are they doing it, what is the reader wearing, what petname the suitor uses - these are just a few examples! Additionally, since I haven't read all the routes of the characters listed here, if you feel it's needed, you can provide some in-game information about the character if it has a relation to topic. Ex: "I think he'll make a great family man because he canonly loves taking care of the younger ones."

Requests sent outside of the specified time periods won't be accepted. I try to immediately answer these so you'll know, but I might also straight-up delete anything that doesn't follow the rules.

➺ AVAILABLE CHARACTERS:

Ikemen Villains: Wiliam; Harrison; Liam; Elbert; Alfons; Roger; Jude; Ellis; Victor; Darius; Nica; Ring

Ikemen Prince: Leon; Chevalier; Yves; Nokto; Licht; Jin; Luke; Clavis; Rio; Sariel; Gilbert; Keith; Silvio, Cyran/Cyril, Matthias, Kagari

Ikemen Vampire: Napoleon(pls); Leonardo; Mozart; Arthur; Vincent; Theo; Isaac; Jean; Dazai; Sebastian; Comte; Shakespeare; Vlad; Faust; Charles; Drake; Galileo

Ikemen Revolution: Lancelot; Ray; Jonah; Fenrir; Edgar; Sirius; Kyle; Luka; Zero; Seth; Blanc; Oliver; Loki; Harr; Mousse; Dalim; Dean; Levie

Ikemen Sengoku: Nobunaga; Masamune; Shingen; Hideyoshi; Mitsuhide; Kanetsugu; Ieyasu; Mitsunari; Yukimura; Sasuke; Kenshin; Kenyo; Ranmaru; Motonari; Keiji; Kicho; Yoshimoto

Midnight Cinderella: Alyn; Giles; Louis; Leo; Byron; Nico; Albert; Robert; Rayvis; Sid

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆

Please understand that I can't guarantee that I'm going to write all of these! I have a lot of issues IRL that I need to take care of, which leads me to either not having a lot of free time or not having the needed energy and inspiration to write. Either way, I hope you can have fun with this event! I can't wait to see what you send me. Have a great day, and I'll see you in my askbox soon! <3

[bunnys-kisses]

Hi Bunny,

I've been following your page for awhile and was wondering if I could order some John Price Lemon slices and beer brownies on the house??

I adore your stories and writing style, and you are in fact someone's girlfriends favorite author 😌

Hope your day is wonderful n thank you ♥︎

bakery menu!

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! i know i've been horribly lacking at call of duty bakery fics! but with call of duty i'll get an idea in my head that is seperate than the bakery fics. i still deeply love my boys (and esp john price), so i'll try to be more on top of the call of duty fics because so many of you have been so sweet with your prompts <3 (also john price would totally love beer brownies just as a dessert, lol)

lemon slice: "i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making." + beer brownies: "stick your tongue out anymore and you'll look like a dog." + on the house (matcha latte: collars/bondage)

cw: smut/pwp, dom!price, sub!reader, dirty talk/degrading language, age gap (20s/40s), wife!reader, wife/domestic kink, carpet sex, oral sex, pet names (puppy, baby girl)

price liked being the man of the house. while most times your relationship was an equal affair. price admired you like flowers did the sun. he'd never hurt his baby girl, even with the age gap that would make some gawk at. a man in his near fifties with a woman who was just out of university. plus, he made her a stay-at-home wife within three months of dating?

there had to be something else going on. even your parents were a little shocked at the news. but neither of you cared, you were happy. and since your parents wouldn't let you move in with such an older man, the only thing to do was to get married. and now every night price got to be the man of the house and have his lovely girl serve him.

after dinner was served you were on your knees in front of him while he watched television. it was hard for him to focus on the game while your nose was nestled against his dark pubic hair. his grip on the can of beer was tight, any tighter and he'd crush the thing in his palm.

he was so much bigger than you, stronger than you. there was a weight to him that could leave you pinned under him. he was so strong and masculine that you couldn't help yourself but be enthralled by him. you continued to pleasure him orally, but occasionally you made small noises which was accompanied by your thighs rubbing together.

"i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making." he said as he took you by the head of the head and made you look at him. you panted heavily and looked at him with a lustful expression across your features. poor little wifey got too excited.

price chuckled and patted your cheek a roughly, "stick your tongue out anymore and you'll look like a dog." he laughed a little, "maybe i should get the collar out, since you like being my puppy so badly." you whined in response and price pulled away to tuck himself back in his jeans. when he got up, he looked down at you and said, "you stay put, i don't need you getting in trouble, baby girl." then left for the bedroom.

you waited patiently and felt heat curl in your gut. you liked price like this, domineering. when he used his age, height, size against you. when he made you feel small in the best ways. when he returned you could see the green collar in his hands.

it wasn't a neon green, but rather a rich forest green. you swallowed and shifted a little in your spot. when he sat down on the couch with a 'huff' he patted his thigh so you'd climb onto his lap. you did without question and he placed the pretty collar around your neck. then his hand was on your bare thigh, he got to see you naked up close. after dinner you stripped down to give your husband dessert.

"pretty little thing." he said, his voice hot. you squirmed a little at his hands on you. on between your legs and the other supporting your back. he made a vow to love and protect you. even when you panted heavily from his touches.

his calloused fingertips grazed across your wet cunt and he dipped his head against your neck where he laid kisses across the heated skin.

"john."

"i got ya, sweetheart. my little pet." he teased your clit a little and you shuddered. he pulled you closer to him and teased your clit a little more before he said, "get on your hands and knees, beautiful. your mouth isn't enough tonight."

you scurried off, you were naked save for the ankle socks with little bows on them and the pretty green collar. you got onto the carpet and rested your face against your arms with your hips raised. price took one last swig of his beer before he got up and rubbed himself through his jeans. you looked at your husband, coyly, "like this?"

"i've trained you so well." he said as got down on the carpet. while a this age, it was hard to do it on the floor. but, he knew it was either that or up against the couch. the latter would only cause more pain in price's bad knee.

"thank you." you blushed, heat rose in your cheeks as you felt his pointer and middle finger touch your achy cunt again. your back arched. then you heard the clatter of his belt being fully taken off.

"this is how a wife should greet her husband every night. give him a fully belly and you walk away with a full cunt. ya like when i make a mess of her, don't ya?" he watched your back arch from his words. he got his cock out of his jeans and rubbed the slick head up against your pussy, "been missin' her. had to finish myself off in the washroom at work because i was thinkin' about it."

price hated to admit it, but he loved the differences between you two. he kept his pretty wife happy at home, and maybe soon you'd have some company with a pet or a baby. price wasn't getting any younger, about time he used the last of his swimmers for something good.

he pushed his cock into you with ease and watched your tense up. it was really hot. in his honest opinion, you looked beyond beautiful. he was glad he got a ring on you as soon as he did because if anyone else tried to get their hands on you. that would be a problem. you whimpered and clawed into the cream carpet.

you knew your knees were going to be raw by the time your husband was done with you. but, you'd happily accept it regardless.

his pace was steady, on the faster side but every thrust had a force that made your toes curled. you loved your big, hairy husband. you adored how he made you feel, how he could easily move and twist you to his liking. he was dominant and strong, he never wanted his wife to worry.

"that's a good girl, my good little puppy. hearin' your little noises right now." he groaned, "you're a beautiful little thing. you know exactly how to get me goin'. lettin' my fuck you until you see stars." his pace picked up and you gasped into the floor.

"john." you arched your back. your body craved your husband. more than most else. you were never a party girl, but even if you were, your drug of choice would be having your husband, the cervix bully, make you cum time and time again.

it was slightly price's fault why you never went to parties. when he was home from deployment, he wanted to savour every moment with you. hard to go out with friends on a friday when price had you in a full nelson on his bed with his cock hitting just the right places. price didn't need boys sniffing around what was his. not that you'd give them the time of day. he held onto your hips tightly and pushed you further into the carpet as his cock dragged against your softest areas.

he said, "so pretty under me. you take me so well." you could feel your heartbeat in the back of your head as he continued to push up right against you. the feeling was erotic, as were the sounds of your sweet moans, "pretty in your collar. maybe i should've just gotten you a collar instead of a ring. a nice leash as well to make sure that you didn't go runnin' off. be a proper pup for me." he groaned as he continued to fuck you.

his motor mouth made heat wash over you. it was hot in a way that made you want to cry out for more. poor mrs. price, must be such a shame to get fucked into a state of bliss by your domineering, stronger husband.

it wasn't long before you could feel the sparks in your brain as you panted heavily against the carpet. your knees were rubbed raw as were your forearms. thankfully not carpet burn on your face (this time). you panted heavily before you let out a sweet noise, your attempt to tell your lover you were cumming. your cunt tightened around his cock, which only spurred your husband to move faster.

"that's it, that's my baby girl." he groaned as he rammed his cock as fast as he could. he could hear your soft, post-orgasm moans. your back arched a little more before they dropped. which meant price had to hold onto them to get at the right angle of your pussy, "my good little wife."

a few more heavy thrusts and price finished inside of you. trusting you to keep the boys safe.he gripped onto your hips and really pushed into you as he tensed up. he then relaxed and felt his heart hammering in his chest as he slowly pulled out.

a string of cum connected his cock to your pussy. really a match made in heavy. he licked his lips before he slowly got up with a bit of help from the coffee table. he wasn't the spry young man that he used to be. but you loved that about him, your burly old man.

not that you'd say that to him.

your hips dropped as you laid on the floor for a moment. achy and feeling euphoric at the same time. it was cute in price's eyes, after he got his cock back into his jeans once more. he picked up his wife and held you in his arms. he kissed your heated cheeks while you wrapped a leg around his waist for support.

"i got ya, baby girl. now let's get the wife to bed before i get hungry again." he knew you were on another planet right now. you held onto your husband tightly until he tucked you naked into bed, with the covers pulled up to your chin.

"what about the dinner dishes?" you asked.

price patted your cheek, "don't worry about them, beautiful. i can handle them." then let you rest with the familiar collar around your throat. <3

[oneforthemunny]

break the ice |hockey!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: a scheduling mishap leads you and eddie to meet. or how you and hockey!eddie's story begins lol.

contains: eddie au. fluff. that's it. happy one year!

The hiss of the puck gliding over the ice, skittering into the goal, skates whizzing to a stop. It was comforting to Eddie. He’d never really known what people meant when they’d say “get in the zone” growing up, until he started playing again, playing for real this time. It was easy to focus on the sounds, silence your brain by tricking it to listen to the claps of the stick on the ice, the pop of the puck soaring, the- 

“Skidamarink a dink, a dink. Skidamarink a doo.” 

A clean miss, startled by the sudden blaring of music from behind him. Skates wobbling, knees locking into place. Eddie turned, squinting towards the other end of the rink. 

“Hey, hey!” Eddie skated, shouting over the music- horrendous at that, what was this song? 

“Excuse me,” You looked up, adjusting the volume on your boom box. “Hey, uh, sorry this is a closed practice.” Eddie skated to you, hockey stick waving exaggeratedly behind him. 

“Yeah it is.” You nodded, head tilting to the side slightly. “Are you… here to drop off?” 

“What? No, no, I-” Eddie paused, brows furrowed at you lightly. “I- this is my practice.” 

“Your practice?” You repeated, pointing at the ice below you. 

“Yeah.” 

“You’re here for the Snowflakes?” 

“No, I play for-” Eddie shakes his head, hand running over his face. “Snowflakes? What-” 

“-The three to four year old class?” You press, brow raised, face contorted in what Eddie could only assume was your best judgment masking, though by the scrunch in your nose, it wasn’t working very well. “For ice skating lessons?” 

“Lessons? Sweetheart, c’mon, does it look like I need lessons?” Eddie grins, smug and sweet. His heart skips when you bite back a smile, lips twitching. “I’m- I rent out the time to practice.” 

“Oh,” You frown slightly. “I, uh, I did too.” 

“You know what, let me- let me just go ask Max.” Eddie flashes you a dazzling smile. “I’ll get it sorted out.” 

“You’re both right.” Max droned behind the desk, flipping through a magazine lazily. “Both of you have the slot for today.”

“What? Why-Why would Bobby book up both spots?” Eddie frowned. “That makes no fuckin’ sense. I’m here every Thursday-” 

Max huffed, snatching the scheduling paper off the back wall, slapping it on the desk. “Eddie Munson. Five to six-thirty. Left.” Her blue eyes raised in boredom. “That means, you’re on the left side.” 

“Left? This is- That’s fuckin’ ridiculous, Max, c’mon-” 

“-It’s Bobby.” Max rolled her eyes. “He’s trying to double book, make more money during the dead season. I don’t know what to tell you.” 

“So I have to practice with a bunch of fuckin’ kids running around?” Eddie huffs. “How the hell am I gonna do that? Huh? Do you hear the shit they’re playing in there?” Eddie throws a hand out towards the rink. “I’m already about to lose my mind.” 

“So get some ear plugs, Eddie, I don’t know.” Max huffed, throwing her hands up. “You know I can’t refund you, so either leave, or suck it up. I honestly don’t care, Munson, up to you.” 

Eddie’s tongue poked the inside of his cheek, rolling furiously. Bunch of kids skating all around him, screaming and shit, he’d never get anything done. 

Still, Eddie’s eyes wandered back to you. In your matching tracksuit, a powdery blue that seemed to shine even under the fluorescents of the rink. He supposed there could be worse people to share the ice with. He faced Tommy Raider again next season, and he’d rather be with a bunch of screaming toddlers anyday over him anyday. 

Besides, the kids weren’t so bad. The occasional screech or laughter when you’d have them do something silly. It was cute, honestly, Eddie decided, seeing these little kids wobble around on skates while you cooed enthusiastically at them. 

“Ok, my little flurries,” You grinned, cheeks aching from the amount of feigned enthusiasm you had to muster. “Next week we’re going to really work on our glide.” You pushed off dramatically, soaring a few spaces then stopping. 

It was so exaggerated, over the top and made the kids giggle; Eddie was sure he was in love. 

“So be sure to be practicing holding your arms way, way out!” You extended your arms, beaming at the few who mimicked you. “And I’ll see you all next week!” 

Eddie had spent the majority of the time practicing what he’d say to you, how he’d ask you out. A classic chat up line always worked at the bar, always helped him score. Still, his knees wobbled, tight and a little unsure as he skated over to you. 

You were waving goodbye to a student, stepping off to the bleachers to undo your own skates. “Hey,” Eddie’s voice cracked, wobbly and unsure in his throat, teeth clenching in a grimace.

You looked up, a tiny half smile in greeting. “Hi. Hope we didn’t bother you too much.” 

“What? No. No, no, no. No, you didn’t-” Eddie took a breath, heart hammering in his chest, ringing in his ears. “It was… Yeah, that was really fun to watch actually. The, uh, seeing the kids in their skates and shit. You’re-You’re really good with them, and, uh…” The fuck is that Munson? The fuck are you doing? Eddie’s mind raced, furiously. 

“Thanks.” You grinned, a wicked little smile that had Eddie’s cheeks flushing. He hadn’t felt like this in years. Felt like he was back in middle school, swooning any time Connie Donohue would swish her hair over her shoulder, letting it land on his desk and brush his hand. 

“They’re a fun age. Super sweet. Not like the asshole eight year olds.” Your finger curled under the untied laces, shimmying them loose. 

“Oh? Eight year olds, they're the asshole group?” Eddie grinned, leaning against the rink’s surface. He hoped you couldn’t tell how he was flexing, muscles protruding under the tight, black material of his shirt. 

“Total assholes. I had them last year, and that’s why I switched-” 

“-Excuse me?” A tiny squeak of a voice came from behind you. You turned, expecting one of your kids who had forgotten a mitten or jacket. 

“Are-Are you Eddie Munson?” The small boy with wide eyes gaped at Eddie. 

Eddie flushed, swallowing, eyes flickering to you. Your brows creasing, looking at the tiny boy then back at Eddie. “Yeah, yeah that’s me.” Eddie forced a smile, gripping the rink as he stepped onto the bleachers, settling on the ones across from you. 

“What’s your name, little man?” Eddie grinned. 

“Samuel.” The boy grinned, a little shyly. 

“Samuel, that’s a cool name. How old are you?” 

“Eight.” The boy beamed. 

Eddie’s eyes cut over to yours, lips twisting, fighting back a grin. You blushed, turning away from his glances, cheeks burning with heat you hoped he didn’t see. “Eight? That’s a… that’s a cool age, right?” 

“Right.” Samuel nodded. “I-I watch you all the time with my dad and my mom.” Samuel babbled in true kid fashion. “You’re my favorite hockey player.” 

“Me? No way, c’mon.” Eddie shook his head playfully. 

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re from Hawkins too.” Samuel nodded, matter of factly. “They said that on-on the TV one time when I was watching.” 

“Yeah, that’s right.” Eddie nodded. “Used to practice here when I was your age.” He nodded over towards the rink behind him. 

“We went one time to a game, and… and you lost a tooth!” Samuel giggled in true, eight year old asshole form. “The other guy knocked it out when-when you were fighting!” 

Eddie laughed, a howling of a cackle that bounced off the walls of the rink, over the hum of the electricity and heat in the stands.

You watched carefully, interest piqued. You knew he was good, you’d watched him practice, it was obvious he had skill. And the name did sound familiar, plastered across headlines and the local news, one of Hawkins’ very own made it big. 

Eddie signed Samuel’s jersey, left him scampering back to his awaiting parents with a triumphant grin. “What are the odds of that?” Eddie beamed, grinning ear to ear when he looked over at you. 

You laughed, knotting your own skates together, reaching for your snow boots. “I, uh, I didn’t realize you-you played for the… Played hockey.” 

“Yeah,” Eddie shrugged, inked hand running down his arm. You tried not to stare. “It’s alright, really. Not bad benefits, but work hours are a little crazy.” 

“Yeah?” You laughed lightly. “I would say so. Pretty demanding.” 

“Oh yeah. And you lose a tooth or two sometimes.” Eddie’s eyes cut to yours playfully, a dimpled grin that had your heart shooting with heat. 

“Yikes.” You sucked in a breath dramatically. “That seems brutal.” 

“You ever been?” Eddie asked, untying his own skates, letting the blade rest on the cement barrier in front of him. 

“To… what? A game?” 

“Yeah.” 

“No.” You shook your head. “Not, like, a real hockey game. Not… Not one of yours.” Your knee bounced nervously, a little unsure even in your own answer. 

“You should come.” Eddie shrugged cooly, hoping you couldn’t see the way his hands shook with adrenaline. “Come to the opener in a few weeks. I’ll get you tickets.” 

“What?” You laughed lightly. “You- No, you don’t even know my name, and you’re gonna get me tickets? Yeah, right.” You rolled your eyes at him. 

“Well, I was hoping I could get your name, maybe your number too.” Eddie’s lips pursed lightly. “Get to know you before the game. Can give you those tickets next time I see you. What do you think? You free Friday night? Saturday?” 

You blushed, looking down at your boots, fiddling with the laces to avoid his gaze. “Saturday. I don’t have to work.” You looked back at him. 

“Saturday it is.” Eddie beamed. 

You scrawled your name and number on the torn corner piece of the schedule. Eddie had snatched it and a pen from behind the desk, ignoring Max’s huffs of annoyance. He’d clutched it the whole way home, paper a little soft from the dampness of his sweaty hands. The tiny slip of paper was taped to his landline, staying there long after Eddie had memorized the number. In your pretty, loopy handwriting for Eddie to see each time he called you. 

[scudslut]

A New Years Surprise 🎀

daryl x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, poorly written smut, oral (fem-receiving), unprotected p in v, porn with some plot lol

a/n: i know i’m a little late but happy new years everyone!:) thought i’d start off on the right foot this year with some Daryl lovin<3 also don’t mind my writing i’m just getting back into it so i’m a bit rusty:/

“God, you’re such a dumbass,” you muttered to yourself, cringing at the reflection staring back at you.

Currently, you were a mess.

Tonight was Alexandria’s supposed ‘New Years Eve’ celebration, like we actually had anything to celebrate or look forward to.

There were always those few people you’d come across over the years, that had somehow managed to keep track of the time passed and as it turns out, Alexandria’s people were very serious when it came to sticking to the old worlds holidays and traditions.

Hell, they’d host parties and backyard shindigs on a regular bases, no prompt needed.

It was bizarre, and even after a full year living here, you still weren’t used to it.

Deep down, a small sliver of you agreed that it was something special about this place. That it somehow kept the hopeful humanity glimmering inside the residents. But the larger, much more sceptical side of you, couldn’t help but notice the flaws of the idea and the dangers of false hope.

Or maybe it was just because you looked fucking ridiculous trying to play dress up.

Either way, you hated the celebrations.

This one in particular though, caught you off guard.

You hadn’t payed much attention to New Years before the world ended, and just assumed that would be the same now; but when you caught wind of the party, you felt your stomach bubble in excitement.

And for one reason only.

Daryl.

You knew Daryl was an absolute sucker for dainty dresses and lingerie and you hadn’t ever gotten the chance to wear something like that for him. But a few days prior, you had stumbled across a small shopping mall on run and found this adorable matching light pink set and had to stuff it away in case the opportunity to surprise him presented itself.

Well, here it was.

And man was that excitement rapidly turning into a full blown panic attack.

Running your fingers through your hair haphazardly, you studied your appearance in the mirror.

You’d only so far put on the lingerie and a small black skirt and you already felt confined and self conscious. The straps weren’t sitting right, the cups of your bra were too big, causing weird awkward gaps.

Sighing, you close your eyes in defeat, resting your head in your hands.

This was just awful.

You could already hear the beginnings of the party going, music and laughter flowing in through your slightly cracked window and it only caused you to sink further into yourself.

You felt your mind slip into your self deprecating thoughts as you began to tune out the world around you, missing the soft creaks of footsteps on the wooden floored hallway.

The door of your shared room was wide open, as it was only the two of you that occupied the small house.

Daryl took you in for a moment, leaning against the doorframe observing your defeated aura silently.

He immediately knew what was bothering you, he could read you like a book at this point. He crept up behind you, gently touching your shoulder as to not frighten you from your thoughts.

Jumping slightly, your eyes flew open and landed on those deep familiar blue ones you adored, staring back at you through the mirror.

His natural scent caught your nose and your body subconsciously began to ease, slumping back into his chest.

“Hey, I wasn’t expecting you home so early,” you whisper to him as you notice his eyes drift down your body.

You wrap your arms around yourself, not wanting him to see your failed attempt at a surprise and be disappointed.

You should have known he’d be quicker than you.

“Not so fast, baby,” he says, catching your arms before they can fully shield your torso from him and twisted you around to face him.

“It’s nothing, really Daryl, I-I don’t even know what I was thinking,” you mumble feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

That’s when you notice the dark, lustful glimmer in his eyes and awed expression clear as day on his features.

Oh. He likes it.

Heat pooled in your stomach.

Daryl bunches the fabric of your dainty skirt in his hand contemplatively, drawing it up ever so slowly and tucking it into the waist band to keep you exposed.

You could feel his eyes wander your skin, like soft breathy kisses, from finger tips to the dip of your collar bones.

Your breathe catches as you feel the faintest pressure on your dripping cunt.

“This all fer me?” He whispers, slowly sliding his middle finger from the wet patch on your panties to the tiny pink bow at the hem.

He finger dips into the waist when he doesn’t hear your response, and snaps it back against your skin.

“Y-yes Dar,” you gasp.

Of course it was for him, you were his and he damn well knew that, but he simply couldn’t help himself from asking time to time.

He continued to toy with the bow thoughtfully, letting his finger tips graze over the sensitive skin there. Over your hip bones, stomach, and down to your inner thighs, never allowing too much pressure so it felt like soft tickles.

He enjoyed to watch you pant and writhe. Liked the way your skin would erupt in goosebumps every place he touched.

He was a hunter after all.

He could spend hours playing with every detail of you, work you up until you have tears welling in your eyes and your cunt was practically pulsing.

Though you’d beg and plead for him to stop, to give you what you need, he knew you loved it.

And so did he.

Daryl Dixon was a tease.

“Wanted to surprise you after the party,” you manage to squeak out and his gaze finally meets yours.

“Did ya now?” he mocks, walking you backwards till the back of your knees hit the bed and you take a seat at the edge. He looms over you, thumb grazing your bottom lip and you simply nod back at him.

“Well, ya can be certain there ain’t gonna be no party anymore,” he growls, staring you down like you had offended him somehow.

He harshly grips your hips, pulling them till your ass was practically hanging off the edge and drops down to his knees before you, spreading your legs to make room for himself.

All you can do is watch him, mouth parted open as he manhandles you however he pleases.

“And where did ya find somethin’ so pretty, hm?” he questions gruffly, once again rubbing his thumb over the wet patch forming on your panties.

You lean back on your arms, dropping your chin to watch his movements.

“I-uh, on a run the other day,” you huff, your words stuttering in excitement and anticipation.

Daryl only hums in response, as he dips his fingers and pulls them to the side, exposing you fully to him.

He barely gives you a second to register his actions before he’s dropping his head between your thighs, licking a long strip across your soaked cunt.

Your body jolts in surprised pleasure, your right hand flying to grip his soft brown locks as he laps at your clit.

Moaning loudly, your hips rock into him as he continues to lick and suck, lost in the taste of you.

“Oh god,” you whimper. Your arms are shaking behind you, ready to give out any second as you watch Daryl devour you like you were his last meal on earth.

He always looked so damn pretty, eyes closed and entrapped between your thighs.

He lifts his head, groaning at the sight of you and begins trailing kisses over your hips and down your inner thighs.

“Sweet girl,” he mumbles between kisses, “always thinkin’ bout me, huh?”

Your eyes roll back as you sink to your elbows, overwhelmed by the pleasure.

“Asked you a question, baby,” he nips at your skin causing a soft sting.

“Always Dar,” you pant, rolling your hips into him again. Your body was pulsing with lust and Daryl could sense how needy you were for him, like it had been weeks without his touch and honestly, it felt like that for him too.

He was about ready to cum in his jeans at the sight of you alone. Legs spread for him, pupils blown wide while you panted and moaned noisily just for him to hear.

Trailing his lips back up, he grips your waist stilling your movements, “What do ya need from me, hm?”

Your mind blanks for a moment, surprised by his uncharacteristic generosity. He was never this quick to give you what you need, always wanting to drag your pleasure for miles and miles until each pretty sound you could possibly make filled his ears.

“Come on now, or do you want me to decide for ya?” he asks again and you quickly shake your head, grabbing him by the shoulders and scooting back until you both were at the top of the bed.

As he lands above you, arms on each side of your head, you finally feel him and how hard he already was.

Rocking into him suggestively, “You know what I need,” you whisper.

Daryl groans from the friction, dropping his head to your shoulder and rutting into you further, chasing your movements.

You hadn’t seen him this worked up and responsive in a long time, and god were you loving it.

You pull his head up to face you and crash your lips onto his, hands finding his belt trying to discard him of it as fast as you possibly can. Daryl’s a panting mess above you, “Baby are you tryna kill me?” he groans when he feels your hands brush against his cock as you attempt to rid him of his jeans.

All you can do is whimper into his mouth as you struggle, and he kicks them down and off the bed.

He grabs you hands and pulls them above you, pinning them down as he begins to attack your neck with bites and kisses.

“Please Dar,” you whine, “need you now.”

“I know baby, I know,” he coos, attempting to soothe you as he draws your skirt and panties down your legs.

You begin tearing at his vest, needing to feel him closer to you, as close as he could possibly get. You feel him chuckle against you, “So eager for me, are ya?” as he lines himself up with your aching core, teasing you even more.

Taking him by surprise, you crush his hips into yours, filling yourself to the hilt all at once. You gasp from from the mixture of pain and pleasure, as Daryl all but whines into your mouth.

“Oh shit, fuck me,” he groans as he begins to slam into you at a bruising pace. You claw at his shoulders, rocking your hips to match his fast movements.

“Just love this cock, don’t ya?” he grunts, lifting one of your legs around his waist to drive into you even deeper.

You felt your brain cloud over, unable to think about anything other than him, drunker on his cock than you’d been from any night of drinking you’d partaken to in the past.

“Don’t go dumb on me now, darling. What did I ask ya?” he repeats, slowing his hips to sensual rolls, so it only stroked that cord in your stomach but kept it from building any further.

“God yes,” you moan, matching his slow but absolutely delicious pace.

Daryl is a groaning mess in your ears as your bodies dance a synchronized rhythm together, moulding into each other like pieces of a puzzle.

His hand snakes between you two, finding your clit easily and he begins to stroke you gently, allowing the fire in your abdomen to build rapidly.

“Oh Dar,” you moan and Daryl only picks up the pace, chasing after his own high to experience with you. Your clutching to him for dear life as he pounds into you quickly, grunting and groaning quiet praises about how good you feel.

You can tell he’s close when his hips start to stutter and shake, losing his rhythm slightly and you finally feel the cord break.

Your body floods with ecstasy, cunt pulsing around him causing his high to come crashing over him with you. Waves of pleasure wash over you as you both come down, his hips slowing to a stop.

He rests his forehead down to yours while the both of you struggle to catch your breath. You feel Daryl start to chuckle against you and your eyes lazily drift open, “What?” you mumble, running your fingers slowly down his back.

“Never was a big fan of surprises before, but ya can bet your ass I am now.”

[hoshinasblade]

For real, the animator had ri have been a Hoshina loyalists. Cause no way he looks that bad. For a Narumi prompt it could be funny that he gets with someone that doesn't know him. Someone who doesn't believe he is the 1st division captain because they only see him as the "wet cat" version of himself. And we have Narumi losing his mind over the fact you don't believe him

(not sure where tumblr took my post again because i cant find it lol) the budget went to hoshina and his tight shirt and there was nothing left to animate narumi properly. anyway, this is such a cute and interesting prompt because because yes, he is losing his mind over you not believing he is the cool first division captain 😆

pairing: gen narumi x f!reader trigger warnings: narumi gen is a trigger warning himself, just super short because im not used to writing anything narumi-related yet. hopefully you don't get mad at me anon for not going exactly per the ask lol my brain is a mush right now, i'll try harder on my next fics

the rich man is here, shouted the kids from the hallway. you can hear their hurrying footsteps - excited little taps that in turn triggered your heartbeat to race as well. you shut your eyes, calming yourself down.

narumi gen is not exactly a rich man; the children in the orphanage just calls him that fondly. apparently he has been dropping by for years, way back when you weren't working as a teacher yet. the older orphans refer to him as nii-san.

narumi would bring toys snd snacks for the kids, and would spend time with them until the early evening before he has to say goodbye. last time, he played video games with everyone; he brought crayons and sketch boobs for his visit today, and within an hour, it was eerily quiet - the little girls and boys holding their pencils, drawing all sorts of things.

the youngest in your herd, a six-year old boy with a missing front tooth ran to you when he saw you by the door, showing you his drawing - a stick-man figure with a knife in its hand, and an animal beside it which you were not sure whether it's an oversized dog or a giraffe.

"it's a kaiju, and narumi nii-san is fighting it", the boy explained, and you patted him in the head. "he's a captain of his team, i'm gonna be like him when i grow up!"

you looked at narumi who is sitting on the floor, but he was already looking at you. you shifted your gaze. "this is so pretty, we should display it in the art wall", you suggested to the boy who grinned at you, clapping.

"you know that it's not a good thing to do, lying to kids, right?" the children had bid narumi goodbye just past 7pm, and although some of them cried, narumi was quick to promise he would be back next weekend. you were surprised, he used to only be here once a month.

"huh?" he responded to you with confusion. you walked him out the orphanage to the parking lot outside. "i don't know what you're talking about."

"look, i know you are trying to be nice. and i thank you for that. what you've done for these kids is more than anyone else have done for them. but telling them you're some guy who kills kaiju is wrong. and telling them they can be like you?" you scoffed.

narumi's mouth was wide open before he realized you have finished your speech. "but i am a guy who kills kaiju", he replied, his hand on his chest as if he is swearing on his life. "really, i'm not lying. i'm the captain of my team -"

"right, and you fight kaiju on the daily," you finished his sentence for him.

"yes, i am a real badass, i promise!" he exclaimed when he sensed you do not believe him in the slightest. it looks comical how he looks close to panicking over the fact that you are not buying whatever he's selling. he frowned at you, and you stared at him, the eye contact lasting for a few seconds.

maybe this guy is a con-artist and he makes his living manipulating people, you said to yourself. this would make a lot of sense considering you think he has the good looks to lure people in. narumi had flirted at you once or twice before - or you wish he was flirting and you were not just reading too much on his actions.

"you know if you meet my friends, they would tell you the truth," he suggested, his voice cheerful.

"why would i meet your friends?" you asked, equally confused.

"so they can tell you that i am the coolest captain of the anti-kaiju defense force. they would also tell you i am a good man and a dependable friend," narumi said, reciting maybe the contents of his curriculum vitae to you. is he in a job interview? you wanted to ask but didn't.

you sighed in defeat. "are your friends as exasperating as you are?" you asked in jest.

"come on, let me impress you", he told you with sincerity that is almost startling. you were not expecting him to sound so genuine, so adamant at proving himself to you.

the kids will have their dinner in a few minutes and you will be needed to help out. you gave narumi one last glance before strolling back to the orphanage. "i'm off on fridays", you said.

narumi's smile could have lighted the entire street.

[sandwitchstories]

Kinktober Day 18 Prompt- Free Use- Rengoku x Reader

Things have not gone as planned with Kinktober for me between work, life, new AU world building obsession and writers block all at the same time. I am still going to try to get through the prompts I made, but it will be out of order and probably past October when I complete it lol Better late than never, I suppose!

Here lies The Reward- Day 18 - Free Use - (Kyojuro Rengoku x Reader)

If you prefer to read it on AO3, click here!

Summary: Just a little drabble about Kyojuro cashing in on the reward you offered him for quitting smoking.

WC: 600+

CW: SMUT, MDNI, cunnilingus, oral sex(f!receiving), vaginal fingering, AFAB terms used to describe reader's naughty bits

Divider by: @tsunami-of-tears

You were in the middle of making coffee when your husband wrapped his arms around you from behind, laying soft, teasing kisses on your neck as his hands traveled the planes of your body before settling on undoing the buttons of his shirt you wore. You bit your lip and pressed your ass back into him. “You’re starting awfully early in the morning with your shenanigans, Kyo, my love.”

“Do you remember what today is, beautiful?” he asked, nuzzling the crook of your neck.

“It’s Saturday.”

“It’s 121 days since I quit smoking,” he said in a teasing voice. “Do you remember the offer you made me? What you offered as a reward for quitting?”

You were struggling to concentrate as Kyojuro bared your skin and his hands moved, so large and warm, over the flesh. His hands slid up your sides from you hips to grope your breasts, toying with and pulling on your nipples. You were so wet you could feel it. And it was not only thanks to the magic his lips and fingers were working on your skin, or the feeling of his rock hard length rubbing against you from behind. You remember clearly the tantalizing offer. The deal you had made. If his quit smoking completely, after 3 months, your gift to him was a day of ‘free use.’

“Yes, I remember quite clearly,” you said, trying to refocus on the conversation. “Are you redeeming it today?”

“Absolutely,” he chuckled. He pulled his shift from your shoulders, tossing it on the counter behind him. 

His lips began trailing down your back as he lowered to his knees behind you. He pressed your back forwards so you bent and he moved to rest his head against the cupboards. You looked down at him, trying to see him over the mounds of your dangling chest.

“Go ahead and keep making our coffee, my love. Don’t mind me,” he grinned, kissing your inner thigh.

You whimpered as he pressed kisses on your cunt. Your hips moved of their own free will, wanting more. Needing more. 

“Oh yes,” he said, opting to stick his tongue out to flick your clit, and bring you back fully into the moment. “As you were.”

You worked on remembering the steps to making coffee, struggling to concentrate. Kyojuro’s tongue and fingers were working your cunt expertly and you were already nearing your orgasm. “Kyo!” you called his name, hand reaching down to grab onto his hair, trying to pull him away from your oversensitized cunt. 

The stubborn man refused to move. Instead he sucked harder and faster, added another finger to the ones splitting your cunt open, thrusting them harder and faster as well. You clutched on to the counter with your free hand as your orgasm tore through you. Only Kyojuro’s hands on your hips kept you upright as you moaned and rocked on his face and tongue, fucked yourself on his fingers, and mouth.

You panted as you came down, slowing to a stop and resting on the counter. “Gods, Kyojuro… your mouth… you’re so good with it baby.”

He grinned and pressed a kiss to your cunt before moving to stand up. He moved to lean against you as you turned your body to be able to kiss him properly. He grinned at you. “I am glad you approve. Especially since I am planning to snack on you many times today.”

With that he gave your ass a firm smack, grabbed his cup of coffee with a wink and walked off, leaving you staring at his back.

You began to clean up the counter, your coffee all but forgotten. Your mind was busy racing with ideas of where else and when else he might take you. Those filthy thoughts went straight to your cunt. 

As you headed towards the laundry room and heard steps behind you and you couldn’t help but grin to yourself. Your husband’s libido and stamina were out of this world. It was going to be a long (amazing) day.

[lost-inthe-v0id]

Young Snape x Reader prompt/idea? Idk

I can’t really write so this is a scenario I made up that I just word vomited

I’ve always had a crush on snapes young actor since I was like 8 so this is js something I made up when I would daydream

Student!Reader is a ravenclaw pure blood with no strong opinions on wizards/witches with no magic parents and a lot of ravenclaw and slytherin friends

Student!Reader and Student!Snape meet on the train and click right away but don’t hang out at school as much because Lily told Snape she didn’t like reader. They’re still acquaintances until that changes due to Lily getting closer to James and Severus getting a class with Reader. Little by little they slowly start getting closer together.

Reader would like to spend more time with him but he feels a responsibility to stay with Lily all the time since she was the only one who cared to stick around with him. Reader doesn’t like the way Lily treats him and the fact she’s all buddy buddy with his bullies

Finally it’s all solidified when Severus and Lily have an argument their 4th or 5th and he calls her a mudblood. Lily starts to ignore Severus not only everytime he goes to apologize but anytime he comes near her at all. She starts to stand by and just watch James and his gang bully Snape and sometimes laughs.

Reader finds Severus crying and comforts him. Gives him a pep talk about how wonderful he is and how people make mistakes and no one deserves to be treated like he is. Finally after that they start hanging out everyday. Severus becomes good friends with Readers friends but they still usually only hang out with each other.

Reader tells people in Ravenclaw and slytherine how Lily treated Severus and people stopped talking to her, gossiping about her even. Since Reader is a pure blood that’s part of an affluent family she grew up around other affluent family kids. Overall reader was not only friends with higher influence kids but also very respected among them due to her kind and understanding nature. So a lot of these people started to look down on Lily.

Finally it all comes together when Snape and Reader are near a tree talking one day when he starts telling Reader how much he doesn’t deserve her and kind of confessing and rambling when Reader kisses him. After that they start dating, the don’t try to hide it either. They hold hands ALL the time, sometimes you find the pair snogging, other times you find Reader laying her head on his shoulder.

Lily doesn’t like this, she liked the fact Severus liked her and the attention she would get from him on top of that people she use to talk to won’t even look at her now. She tries to talk to him saying she’s ready to hear him out but by then Severus couldn’t really give a shit.

Idrk about the rest

I know not a lot of people like Snape like that so I’m just posting this for myself not really expecting anyone to see this lol

If someone does end up making a full fledged fic plz credit me :<

[winedarkthoughts]

house of addams (2)

— 🌖 pairing: ot7 x fem.reader

— 🕷️ genre: mystery, angst + fluff + smut

— 🗝️ word count: 3.3k

— 🍄 summary: you and yoongi tackle your first day of fieldwork, and this town and it's mysteries prove to be stranger than they first appeared.

— ☕ content warnings: private investigator!reader and botanist!yoongi being nerds, mentions of death/missing persons, scientific inaccuracies lol

— 🕸️ a/n: and the mystery continues!

previous chapter ← series m.list → next chapter

chpt. 2: but first, fieldwork

september 22, 2004

You've been having strange dreams. Normally, you don't remember most of your dreams, but these have been oddly vivid and long-lasting, like the lingering stench of a cigarette that sticks to your clothes.

In some, you're wandering through a forest, wading through a thick mist. No, not wandering, because it feels like you're searching for something, you just don't know what.

In others, you're submerged in murky green water. Tendrils of seagrass like twisting trees brush against your ankles. And there's a sound reverberating through the water, something like chittering and groaning at the same time.

When you wake up, the window above your bed is open, though you don't remember unlatching it last night. Just outside the glass is a canopy of green, bright and vigorous from the early dew.

You pull the window shut and dismiss the dreams completely from your mind, because you have things to do. Today is your first day of fieldwork with Yoongi, the botanist.

Yoongi is punctual, which you very much like. He arrives at the meeting spot three minutes early. Luckily, you were there ten minutes early.

"G'morning," he mumbles, his voice still raspy with sleep. His hair is ruffled and his eyes are slightly droopy. He's wearing dark jeans and a flannel, but appears comfortable in the frigid air.

"Morning, thanks for coming," you say, handing him the iced americano and glazed bun you just picked up from the coffee shop.

Cat's Den, it's called. The same barista from your previous visit was working, and he seemed just as cheerful.

"Thank you," Yoongi says with new life in his voice, gratefully sipping from his drink.

You inform him that your first stop will be the residence of Mrs. Bradley. You want him to see the strange fungus in person to get the most accurate identification.

The two of you pile into your Honda CRX. It's a beater car, with scratches on the exterior and ripped seats. You've had it ever since you were a teenager, but the engine has held up throughout the years.

When you ask Yoongi if he's heard of the death of Michael Bradley, he just scrunches his brows.

"I think it was in the paper once," he says. "Something about household cleaners and chemicals. The mayor kept it buttoned up, apparently."

Again, the mention of the mayor. She kept the case under wraps, but clearly she trusts Yoongi to know about it since she recommended him to you.

"Hmm, well Mrs. Bradley won't submit to questioning so far," you say, rattling with the car as it traverses over a ridge in the dirt road.

"So far?" Yoongi prompts, and you can hear the slight amusement in his tone.

The corner of your mouth tugs up in a barely concealed smirk. "I can be very persistent," you add.

You stop the car a block away from their house. Yoongi follows you dutifully when you exit wordlessly and make you way onto their lawn. The ring of mushrooms is still there. In fact, it appears to have gotten wider.

You drop to one knee and begin taking pictures.

"Won't Mrs. Bradley get upset?" Yoongi asks, looking into the dark windows of the house.

"She leaves for work at five a.m." you reply. "We'll be finished long before she gets back."

He doesn't reply, because the mushrooms have snagged almost every ounce of his attention.

"Very peculiar," he mutters to himself.

"Can you identify them?" you ask, trying not to divulge how much you're waiting on his reply.

Yoongi pulls a retractable magnifying glass from his pocket and flips it open, dropping to the damp earth beside you.

"Infundibuliform cap shape," he says, more to himself than to you. But from what you've gathered from the book, it means a "deeply depressed" cap shape. In this case, it makes the cap look like a set of tendrils. Reaching out.

Yoongi takes out a pair of tweezers and turns the mushroom this way and that, examining it.

Something catches your eye.

"Pores and gills?" you say. Typically mushrooms have one or the other, but this one has a membrane covered in small holes as well as an underside full of thin openings.

"False gills, ridges," Yoongi supplements, deep in concentration. "Gills can be detached, but ridges are built into the structure."

"Is that common among mushrooms?" you ask.

"Hmm, not entirely sure. Not a mycologist," he replies, snipping off one of the mushrooms and dropping it into a specimen bag.

A part of you lights up inside. It looks like he's going to help you with this whole thing, judging by his interest in the strange fungi.

You're greatly appreciative, because reading that book on mushrooms was not exactly the most effortless research endeavor. It was plenty interesting, but still chock full of scientific terminology that you aren't familiar with.

"I have a friend back at the university who can take a closer look at this," Yoongi says, rising to a stand.

A flutter in your stomach. This is coming along nicely. The more professional opinions you can get, the better.

"Take a look at this," you say, leading him to the rotted tree trunk.

You watch as his delicate features twist, perplexed. He really is very pretty, but you shouldn't be thinking such things.

"Is this common among trees?" you ask a little hesitantly. It's such a shame to break his concentration when he looks like that.

"Not that I know of," he mutters, taking a tentative step closer.

You did a bit of research on tree rot, but nothing you saw looked quite like this. Wood, even rotted wood, has a splintered appearance. This wood looks almost wet, maybe even flesh-like. It looks, and smells, like an infected wound.

You take plenty of pictures.

"Can I get a copy of those?" Yoongi asks, looking at you with wide, eager eyes. A cat that's caught sight of a treat.

"Yes, of course," you reply with only the slightest bit of difficulty.

"Thank you." He flashes you a gummy smile. Fuck.

"Okay," you blurt out suddenly, pretending to check your watch. "Let's get moving."

Your next location is the sight of Jarvis Laplan's death.

The forest, you've learned thanks to Yoongi's kind direction, has been unofficially divided into sections by the surrounding civilians. There's the "North Star" area, mostly made up of sparse trees and grasses. This is where most of the residential homes are backdropped against, including Bradley's.

Then "Gunman's," an area southwest of North Star. Aptly named, this is the designated hunting grounds, clearly labeled and fenced. A few residences outline Gunman's, including Laplan's. But Laplan wasn't found in Gunman's, he was found in Ulthar's Grove.

"Ulthar's Grove," south of Gunman's and absolutely NOT a hunting area. Apparently, local stray cats and other rodents flock to this area, roaming about freely and building nests in hollow tree stumps. Children and teenagers can sometimes be found playing in this area, because of the several residences tucked into its borders and the relative safety compared to other areas of the forest.

Then, at the center of it all, Lurking Lake. Aptly named, it is not well-inhabited and generally avoided by locals. A naturally formed lake, it is infested with algae, an invasive species of eel-like fish, and characterized by a distinctive musky smell.

You and Yoongi enter into Ulthar's Grove, weaving through gnarled trees and mossy stones.

As if he can't help it, Yoongi points out the names of the local flora as you pass them. The scientific names and the common names, seemingly for your benefit. It's quite amusing, watching his face light up when he recognizes a familiar species.

And you learn a lot, taking as many notes as you can on the local wildlife while navigating the path.

You don't notice, but Yoongi is sneaking glances at you while you scribble feverishly.

"Are my ramblings really that interesting?" he prods playfully.

Your attention is jerked from the page. You glance at him over your shoulder, feeling a burn in your cheeks.

"I try to remember everything I learn," you say, and your voice betrays none of the slight embarrassment you feel at being observed in your "natural habitat." Because you've always been very intent, maybe even obsessed, with collecting knowledge. You suppose that's one of the things that makes you good at your job.

As if he can sense your thoughts, Yoongi says, "So, you're a journalist?"

You never told him exactly what your occupation was, only that the mayor sent you. You hesitate for a moment. For some reason, you have no desire to lie to him.

"Private investigator," you reply.

He hums in acknowledgement. He doesn't ask who you were hired by, but the subtext is clear enough. The mayor recommended him to you for a reason, after all.

The two of you arrive at the site. No longer is it wrapped in police tape, but the same eerie air of caution still lingers.

Aged thirty-five, he was found in the woods. More specifically, in a little clearing among the closely-knit trees, in the center of a ring of dead grass.

Apparently, Laplan was dissatisfied with the control of local wildlife, and took it upon himself to do a bit of "population control." He was found in hunting gear with a .35 Remington, without a single shot fired.

Yoongi says that very little information was in the papers, similar to Bradley. Just a warning to civilians regarding a recent animal attack.

"He wasn't attacked, he was mauled," you can't help but say as you examine the site. The mayor gave you snippets of the police reports, but you still have yet to get your hands on the coroner's report.

"By what?" Yoongi asks, a strange hesitation in his voice.

You look at him.

"Not sure" you reply, turning your attention to the surroundings at hand.

Laplan was found here, among this break in the trees. The ring of dead grass remains, and half of you expects to see a pool of blood in the center of it. But there is nothing but brittle vegetation.

"What kind of animal?" Yoongi asks as he circles around the perimeter.

"A mountain lion, presumably." But for some reason, a reason that you can't name, you doubt it.

A wave of uneasiness ripples through you.

"Let's fan out a bit, try to see if any of the trees around here have the same rot," you call out, eager for a distraction.

The two of you explore the area for a while, noting irregularities in the plant life. Evidently, thanks to Yoongi's commentary, you discover that the surrounding plants appear to be dehydrated, despite the abundant rain. Neither of you find any of the strange mushrooms in this part of the woods.

Yoongi checks his watch at noon on the dot.

"We should get moving. You said there's one more site you wanted to visit, right?"

He's right, the site of Sharon Mason, the final and most recently deceased. You remember now that Yoongi said he had to leave at two p.m., though he didn't mention why.

Lurking Lake, and the surrounding woods which apparently don't have a name, according to Yoongi. They are simply known as "the woods surrounding Lurking Lake."

And you must say, the name lives up to its potential. First of all, it's bigger than you thought it would be. It has a presence, the beating heart of the forest.

Under the gray sky, the water is dark green with a peculiar, abysmal deepness. The perimeter of the lake is outlined by wild grass and moss-robed stones, and the outer edges of the water have a film of algae.

Fog hangs over the landscape like a misty curtain, swirling along the ground.

"She was found by the lake, right?" Yoongi asks, examining some sort of cattail grass by the lakeshore.

"In the lake," you correct, bending over to look closer at the pebbled shore.

"Barely anything in the papers again," Yoongi says before you get the chance to ask. "Mainly because they don't know all that much."

"Hmm," you reply, staring at some sort of microscopic, squirming plankton in the shallow lake water.

Sharon Mason, aged seventeen. Found floating in the lake. Homicide ruled out, apparently.

The third death in under three months, and it certainly left a mark on the community, especially since she was only a teenager. You wonder if this was the catalyst that drove the mayor to hire a private investigator.

"Has the college noticed anything unusual about the lake? In the ecosystem, I mean," you ask.

"Not that I know of," Yoongi immediately responds. A little too quickly.

You straighten up and watch as he paces around the edge of the water, hands in his pockets.

"Nothing?" you ask again, a little more pointed this time. Because you hardly believe that nothing has surfaced at the university. Why else would the mayor include investigative services in "ecological disturbances" in her job description?

"No, ma'am," Yoongi replies, and the politeness in his voice is incriminating.

You'll have to look into it.

"Well, I won't know the finer details until I get the coroner's report," you say.

Yoongi looks up at you.

"The coroner?" he asks, curiosity and something else in his tone.

"Yes, I'll need to speak to him eventually. Do you happen to know where his office is? I've been having trouble getting him on the phone," you say.

You're watching closely for his reply, and you see his eyes flicker to something in the distance.

Following his gaze, you see it. The massive house on the hill, dark and towering over the valley. Through the mist, it looks like an abandoned Victorian mansion.

"The Addams House," Yoongi says from behind you.

"Addams? Is that who lives there?" you ask with your eyes still fixed on the house, like a beacon that you can't look away from.

"Used to, they're long gone now," Yoongi replies. "The new owner rents it out now,"

"And who would that be?" you press.

Yoongi just shrugs.

"The only people who know for sure are the tenants themselves. Apparently, he's a bit of a recluse."

Hmm, interesting.

"And...that's where the coroner's office is?" you ask, a little incredulous.

He nods a little hesitantly.

"Mm hmm, it's in the basement."

"Ah, of course it is," you can't help but reply, and it makes Yoongi smile a bit.

There's a pause as the two of you poke around.

"So, what exactly are you looking for?" Yoongi asks.

That makes you stop and think for a moment, because you're not entirely sure what it is you're looking for here. At Bradley's place, it was the mushrooms. Laplan's place of death, any indication of unusual wildlife or animal activity. Here at the lake, you don't even have a cause of death.

"I'm not entirely sure," you admit, again not finding it in you to lie to him. "I'll have a much better idea when I get the coroner's report."

Something you said seems to remind him, prompting him to check his watch.

"I have to go now," he says, quickly gathering his things.

"Alright, I'll give you a ride back," you offer. Not that you would ever admit it, but you're not quite ready to part from him yet.

"No, no, that's alright," he blurts out, already making his way towards the outline of trees. "It's a short walk," he insists.

"From here?" you question, but by the time you turn around, all you can see is his dark hair and slight frame darting expertly between the trees.

Your shoulders deflate as you let the rest of your sentence die with a puff of breath. A strange man, no doubt. But then again, that's how you like them.

Later that day, you venture to the coffee shop to do some more research, but the establishment is closed. The man mentioned something about only being closed on Wednesday afternoons.

The bookstore on the other side of the alley is closed too, none of the warm light from last time leaking from the front window.

You use your entire living room floor as your cork board and red thread, scattering open books and papers like a difficult-to-navigate parchment sea.

And you sail that sea until three a.m.

Five missing. The first is Alissa Ward, aged thirty-two, last seen at a grocery store at 5:32 p.m. She returned home at 5:47, according to her home security system, and then randomly left through the back door at 2:42 a.m. She lived alone, and it took a while for authorities to report her missing.

Then, Brynn Synder, aged twenty-nine, last seen at her boyfriend's place the night before her disappearance. Apparently, she had a habit of running through the woods in the early morning, and she was reported missing when she failed to show up at brunch with friends the next morning.

The police searched the woods. They found nothing.

You fall asleep on the couch as you're nearing the end of her file, dreaming of feet pounding on dirt.

september 23, 2004.

The coroner proves to be even more elusive than you thought. He appears to be averse to his faxing machine, and downright allergic to his telephone.

By midmorning, you're trudging up through the damp earth to the house on the hill. The closer you get, the more massive it appears. Ancient brickwork, towers and iron spires, neatly clipped hedges flush to the sides of house, and crowned by spindly trees overhead.

There's a tall iron gate encompassing the entire property, spiraling with twisting designs. You try it, but it appears to be sealed even though you don't see a lock of any kind.

You still rattle it a few times for good measure, causing the metal to creak and screech as if it were alive, and very displeased at the rough treatment.

A moment later, a figure emerges from the fog. A man, it looks like, wearing a large coat. As he approaches, you notice the floppy black hair hanging in front of his face.

"Hello, I'm sorry to bother you," you call out when he's close enough to hear you. Really, you're not sorry, since you've been trying to get a hold of the coroner for several days now, with not so much as a return message.

The man is young, with a strong jaw and handsome features. But his skin, it's somehow completely colorless. You can't quite explain it, but it looks like ice, translucent yet cloudy at the same time. And what's weirder is the way your eyes can't quite stay focused on it. It makes your head throb if you stare at the same place for too long.

"I need to speak to the coroner," you say, putting authority in your voice. If you want to get anywhere with this case, you'll need the causes of death.

"He...He isn't here right now," the man says, sounding a little nervous. Now that you're closer, you can see his bunny-like front teeth biting at his strangely colorless lips.

"When will he be back?" you reply.

The man's head is downturned, eyes flickering over the ground.

"I'm not sure. He's spread quite thin, you see," he says.

You raise an eyebrow, unsatisfied.

"W-Well there aren't many forensic pathologists in this area, so he has to service the next three towns. And he always takes Wednesdays off for personal reasons, so he hasn't been in yet and-"

"Alright, kid," you interrupt his rambling, since he only appears to be getting more nervous by the second.

"Just have him call me as soon as possible, okay?" You hand him a card with your information scratched onto it, and he reaches through the gate's bars to take it between his extremely cold fingers.

"Yes ma'am," he says obediently, scurrying back up the hill and disappearing behind a hedge wall.

Strange young man, you think. But, as you're starting to realize, that is the norm in this town.

"She saw through my glamour," Jungkook announces to the room. And everyone freezes, stealing little glances at each other.

"I told you, she's perceptive," Yoongi says from his place on the chaise lounge.

"Curious too, she came into the bookshop looking for something on strange fungi," Namjoon supplies.

"And spent the entire night in the cafe reading," Jin adds.

"She won't stop calling my office. I'm not sure what I'm going to tell her," Taehyung admits.

"She's just doing her job," Jimin counters.

"In any case," a stern voice interrupts, the only voice that hasn’t spoken so far.

“Keep an eye on her.”

a/n: thank you muchly for reading!! if you tell me your thoughts i might explode with joy

NEXT PART: 05/15/24 @8:00 a.m. PST

[seungfl0wer]

*𝙄 𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙇𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝*

Pairing: Bangchan x Reader (GN)

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None, if I used any gendered pronouns let me know. I don’t think I did but just incase lol

This was requested from my prompts: 2 “I love your laugh”, 14 “How about a kiss?”, 24 “I’m not blushing”

-🖤

It was dark as Chan and you walked by the river. He was working late, of course. When you suggested to take a walk down the road for some snacks. He groaned getting up teasing you ‘However will he get stuff done.’

Here you were now though, getting Chan out of that studio getting some fresh air and food. The night air felt so refreshing, the smell of the water and food filled the air. The stars sparkling in the night sky but they didn’t sparkle more than they did in his eyes you thought to yourself.

You and Chan both walked and talked, joking about things and talking about deep concepts. “You know I’m still surprised you and Jake broke up” he said as you walked. You looked at him a bit confused, he never really said much about dating. In general he didn’t say anything about it like at all. “and why’s that?” You asked. He shrugged not wanting to look at you “I don’t know, I mean. You’re you. I don’t know how someone could give that up.” He says almost too nonchalantly, like he didn’t want you to pester him to elaborate but you did.

“So what you’re saying is you think I’m super awesome and wanna date me?” You teased him. He almost stopped in his tracks looking up at you. You could tell he wanted to say something but couldn’t get it out. Your eyes went big smiling to yourself “Ooh channie likes me” you teased more. Making him roll his eyes a bit as he started walking again. “Yeah? Maybe I do?” He said softly. The words coming out a lot softer than he expected.

“You do??” You said you now stopping in your tracks. “Bangchan. YOU. Like me?” You said eyes looking over him trying to figure if this was some kinda bad joke. “Y/n how could you not see that I do? If anyone else woulda asked me to come out I woulda said no and kept working.” He said with a shy smile. ‘Seriously? How could you not know’ he thought to himself, he never really hid it well. And even if he was trying to hide it, it was hard to keep secrets from you.

Your body kinda moved on its own wrapping your arms around him in a big hug. He gasped a little taken by surprise at your sudden embrace but quickly hugged you back. “So uhm- what do you wanna do for our first date?” You said with a smile looking up at him. He couldn’t help but laugh “oh so now we are going on a date?” He laughed more. Oh that laugh. That smile. It could cure everything, it always Made your heart just melt. “You know. I love your laugh so much. It makes my heart all- happy” you said with a slight blush.

He looked down at you trying to hide his shy smile. His eyes looked over your face “you know the stars make your eyes look even more sparkly” he said almost a whisper. You two stared into each other eyes for what seemed like forever. The world felt like it stood still leaving only you two moving. “Chan.. h-how about a kiss?” You asked words barely being audible but he heard.

He leaned in his hand coming up to caress your cheek before your lips met. He kissed you so softly before pulling away, leaning his head against yours. His thumb rubbed against your cheek as a smile creeped across his face. “You look really cute when you blush” you say almost teasingly but really it made you go all heart eyes.

He pulled away slightly rolling his eyes “I’m not blushing, you’re blushing” he said sticking out his tongue. “You’re such a dork” you say jokingly as you playfully smack his arm. “We haven’t even had our first date and you’re already smacking me AND calling me names?” He teased back poking your sides.

“Just watch out I know karate” you said lifting up your legs and arms in that pose people always do. “Oh so scary” he says laughing. “Let’s go get some ramen yeah?” He said pointing to your favorite little store. “Hell yeah!” You say making him laugh even more. As you both walk towards the store Chan interlocks your fingers together smiling to himself. Finally you knew how he felt and finally he’d be able to treat you like you deserved.

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💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

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