#SM LET HIM OUT THE BASEMENT.

[chemonnai]

it’s the 7th day of the 7th month ☹️ where’s my seunghan ☹️☹️☹️☹️

[meiozis]

i want a fun cunty little xiaojun solo album so badly i can't put it into words

[mclqren]

BIRTHDAY WISHES ★ F1 GRID

PAIRING ✦ f1 grid x platonic fem!wolff!reader, max verstappen x fem!wolff!reader

SUMMARY ✦ it's your birthday, and some of the drivers of the f1 grid take to instagram to post you on the day. [ SMAU ]

WARNINGS ✦ none, i think!

REQUESTED ✦ here!

NOTES ✦ i didn't include all of the f1 drivers but i included as many as i felt were suitable! reader isn't susie's biological daughter, but they're still very close!! the fc i've used is blanca soler, but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are open so feel free to leave a request :)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

liked by maxverstappen1, susie_wolff, and 1,581,099 others

yourusername finally 22, might get a tattoo idk💜

view all comments

user1 AHHH HAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/N

user2 PEOPLE'S PRINCESSS HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!

susie_wolff happy birthday y/n!! love you ❤️

yourusername love you mama 💜

user3 THEY'RE SO CUTE WTH

user4 i literally can't wait to see all of the f1 drivers post her.

user5 NO FR so excited

sabrinacarpenter MY GIRL FOREVER HAPPY BIRTHDAYY 🥳💗

yourusername LOVE YOU SAB THANK YOU SM💜💜

user6 this friendshippp omg

lewishamilton HAPPIEST OF BIRTHDAYS TO YOU Y/N love you lots kiddo ❤️

yourusername love you lewis!! 😘

liked by yourusername, susie_wolff, and 1,433,214 others

tagged yourusername

mercedesamgf1 It's a very very special day today...happy birthday Y/n! From all of the team at Mercedes ❤️

view all comments

user7 happy birthday y/n!!

user8 she is glowingggg

yourusername 💜💜

liked by mercedesamgf1

user9 i just know toto went to admin and said 'WISH MY DAUGHTER A HAPPY BIRTHDAY'

user10 their father daughter dynamic is everything to me

liked by yourusername, alex_albon, and 1,257,789 others

tagged yourusername

georgerussell63 throwback to 2022 where me and y/n went on a day trip around paris and she changed outfits THREE TIMES in accordance with where we were. anyways happy birthday y/n have the best day!! 🥳

view all comments

yourusername CALLING ME OUT IN THE CAPTION HELLOOO?

yourusername I SWEAR IT WAS IMPORTANT I HAD TO CHANGE

georgerussell63 WHAT WERE THE REASONS.

yourusername 1) we had gone into that dusty vent thingy and i had to change my top 2) someone (naming no names) spilt WATER DOWN MY NEW TOP so i had to change 3) we were going out at night i was not about to wear that green shirt.

yourusername *y/n and i, not me and y/n

alex_albon oh dear the grammar police is back

yourusername year older but still not shedding the role 🤷‍♀️

yourusername thank you curious george very much appreciated 😘

landonorris how many nicknames do you have for him??

yourusername g-man, curious george, georgie porgie

georgrussell63 you can tell she truly values our friendship!

user11 i actually haven't stopped laughing why are they so siblings

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 1,411,517 others

tagged yourusername

landonorris happy birthday to the girl who introduced herself to me by spilling her pepsi max over my fire suit. never change y/n 🔥

view all comments

yourusername AW LANDOOO THAT'S KINDA SWEET

georgerussell63 and mine wasn't??

yourusername lando's my fav 🤷‍♀️

charles_lerclerc @/landonorris thoughts on this??

landonorris y/n is a woman with taste what can i say?

yourusername wait when did you take the first pic...

landonorris at that bar in london

yourusername LOVE YOU NORRIS 😍

landonorris LOVE YOU WOLFF 😁

georgerussell63 the bias is actually crazy i'm in tears right now

yourusername awww georgie i love you too!! 💜

maxverstappen1 no one can separate y/n from her popcorn

yourusername he speaks the truth 🤷‍♀️

liked by yourusername, landonorris, and 984,777 others

tagged yourusername

alex_albon happiest of birthdays to the best third wheel money can buy ( please let me out of your basement 🙏 )

view all comments

alex_albon ALL JOKES ASIDE love you y/n have the best day!! 😁❤️

yourusername AW ALBONOOOO

yourusername you and lily are my parents😘

lilymhe i prefer you to alex ❤️

alex_albon HUH??

yourusername i will always take my mother's side 💜

yourusername best third wheel money can buy is CRAZYYY YOU KNOW FULL WELL.

alex_albon well you did third wheel at one point, not now you're with him 🤷‍♀️

user12 WITH HIM? MY WIFE IS TAKEN?

user13 NOT ALEX BEING CRYPTIC W IT.

logansargeant the american flag in the last pic RAH 🦅

yourusername relax logan babe it's a brandy melville sweater 💜

liked by yourusername, georgerussell63, and 103,422 others

tagged yourusername

carmenmmundt MY Y/NNNN!! meeting you in the mercedes paddock back in 2022 was truly the best thing that could've ever happened because now you're stuck with me!! my little sister forever, hope you have the best birthday ever ❤️❤️

view all comments

yourusername CARMMM IM CRYING WTH

yourusername MY SISTERRR I LOVE YOUUU

carmenmmundt I LOVE YOU MORE ❤️

user14 the way they get on so well acc warms my hearttt

yourusername you're the only reason i can tolerate george 😊

georgerussell63 i beg your pardon??

yourusername oh dear the british dialect came out

charles_leclerc understandable 🤷‍♂️

georgerussell63 NOT YOU TOO??

user15 y/n honorary wag confirmed

alex_albon or real wag 🤷‍♂️

this comment has been deleted

user16 SO NO ONE SAW ALEX'S COMMENT?? WAG ALERT HELLO??

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, and 441 others

tagged yourusername

alexandrasaintmleux the only girl i trust to go to galleries with me ❤️ happy birthday y/n love you sm!

view all comments

yourusername ALEXXXX I LOVE YOU SM

yourusername MY ANGELLL

alexandrasaintmleux ❤️❤️

yourusername forget charles run away w me 🙏

alexandrasaintmleux @/charles_leclerc sorry baby i'm leaving you for y/n!!

charles_leclerc how have i been replaced...

yourusername with ease 😘

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1, and 1,822,901 others

tagged yourusername

charles_leclerc she might prefer my girlfriend to me, but she will forever be my baby sister 😘 happy birthday y/n!!

view all comments

yourusername MI HERMANOOOO!!

charles_leclerc that's not french??

yourusername i know carlos was teaching me spanish so have that instead

carlossainz55 viva la españaaa! 🇪🇸

yourusername i definitely do prefer alex but this post is very much appreciated!!

charles_leclerc why must you replace me.

user16 WHO DOESNT PREFER ALEX?? SHES STUNNING

yourusername LOVE YOU ECLAIR

user17 HELPP SHES A REAL ONE

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, and 267,411 others

tagged yourusername

lance_stroll "if you post any ugly pictures of me lance i'll kill you" - y/n today when i wished her a happy birthday. have a good day loser 👌

view all comments

yourusername WHY ARE YOU CALLING ME OUT AS WELLL IT'S MEANT TO BE MY SPECIAL DAY

georgerussell63 y/n when something doesn't go her way:

yourusername GO AWAY PISS FACE ☹️

yourusername my favorite canadian 😊

yourusername also the only canadian i know but wtv

lance_stroll i appreciate the sentiment y/n??

yourusername THANKS LANCELOT LOVE YOU BBG

lance_stroll maybe it's time to retire the nickname now??

yourusername noooo i don't want to! and it's my birthday sooo :)

liked by yourusername, landonorris, and 199,588 others

tagged yourusername

oscarpiastri happy birthday y/n!! have the best day ❤️ ( last slide is from when you took my phone and sent lando pictures of yourself saying you were under his bed. good times as always )

view all comments

yourusername OSCAHHH THE FIRST NICE-ISH CAPTION!!

charles_leclerc mine was nice as well???

yourusername yes but oscar's just nicer in general so it sort of evens itself out

user18 HELPP

yourusername i KNOW lando appreciated the pics of my flared nostrils😘😘

landonorris yes thanks y/n ❤️

alex_albon bet your boyfriend didn't appreciate that one 🤷‍♂️

yourusername DO YOU EVER SHUT UP ALBON. and for ur information i forwarded them to him as well so.

user19 okay but WHOOO IS THIS BOYFRIEND WHEN'S THE REVEAL

user20 NO REAL IM GNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1, and 1,008,290 others

tagged yourusername

carlossainz55 y/n in her natural habitat: on a farm 👩‍🌾 happy birthday mi hermana!! ❤️

view all comments

yourusername VIVA LA ESPAÑAAAAA

carlossainz55 SIII SIEMPRE

yourusername THANK YOU CARLOSSS 💜💜

carlossainz55 ❤️

georgerussell63 she's one with nature ❤️

landonorris HAHA

yourusername I KNOWWW YOU ARE BOTH NOT TALKING WHEN I HAVE KILLED SPIDERS FOR BOTH OF YOU.

user21 THE RECEIPTS

maxverstappen1 picture credits for half of these??

carlossainz55 i took the first one though?

maxverstappen1 but i took the others??

yourusername guys stop fighting this isn't you ☹️☹️☹️

maxverstappen1 yeah yeah whatever

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, and 2,001,980 others

tagged yourusername

maxverstappen1 forever thankful for the day you accidentally ran into the red bull paddock and i fell head over heels in love 🙏 happy birthday to the girl who makes it all worth it, love you always ❤️

view all comments

user22 THE HARD LAUNCH????

user23 WAS NOT EXPECTING THISSSS

user24 SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

user25 MERCEDES GIRL X RED BULL GUY

yourusername MAXIE AW

user26 MAXIE MY HEARTTT

yourusername LOVE YOU FOREVER 💜💜

alex_albon ew get a room

yourusername as third wheel of you and lily for basically the past two years, LET ME HAVE THIS ONE.

landonorris so like is it just me who's single now??...

yourusername keep enjoying the bachelor lifestyle norris 💜

liked by maxverstappen1, georgerussell63, and 1,872,001 others

tagged maxverstappen1

yourusername thank you all so much for the birthday wishes!! decided to get me a tattoo, and woke up to my boyfriend hard launching us on social media! love you max, but please stop winning races so my dad doesn't get angry 💜

view all comments

maxverstappen1 unfortunately, i have to keep winning the races to win your respect. thanks for the request, though! 🙏

yourusername papa wolff will NOT be happy.

maxverstappen1 ❤️❤️

user27 THE LITTLE WOMEN TATTOO??

user28 I HAD NO IDEA SHE WATCHED LITTLE WOMEN

user29 she mentioned on live once that it's her favorite movie!!

mercedesamgf1 If he hurts you Y/n, we'll be at his door 🦅

yourusername you'll be the first ones i contact x

user30 Y/N DEFENCE LEAGUE HAS ARRIVED

georgerussell63 *get a tattoo, not get me a tattoo

landonorris shhh let her have this one it's her birthday weekend

yourusername damn right it is mr russell remember ur place here. which of the two of us is the boss' daughter??

georgerussell63 🤐🤐

yourusername exactly what i thought!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[tac-the-unseen]

I love all ur blog sm!! Can I ask abt something with the slashers (specially Thomas <3) with an foreigner!reader that don't quit speak english very well and normally forget words?

(Sorry if something is spelled wrong, English is not my native language lmao)

Absolutely, I can!

And because the request didn't specify, this fic will strictly be about speaking a foreign language.

Sorry if this is inaccurate! I'm a native English speaker and don't know many who aren't. Sorry in advance!!

Slashers x Foreigner!Reader

Micheal Myers:

•This man will act like he doesn't care but in reality he's so intrigued. (It might be why you're still alive) 

•He’ll spend his time watching you practice your pronunciation and recognition patterns, like it's a movie.

•Is he a bit mean about it? Yes. Will he laugh? Probably.

•If you find yourself not knowing what certain words are and stumble around until you find the right word, You'd be surprised at how patient he is. 

•If you are very new to the English language he'll secretly get you flash cards and stash them into a place he knows you'll find them

•Despite everything, if you ask him for help, he will help. He might be mute but he can write and use TV to aid you.

Billy loomis & Stu macher:

•Stu is already romanticizing your language, but instead of using the actual name of your language, he calls it “Talking pretty to me”

•Billy asks if you want any text books or study equipment to help you on your English speaking journey 

•Both boys are a surprising help! Stuttering trying to articulate what you mean? They've already jumped in to, A) help save you some of the embarrassment, and B) give you time to think about what you're trying to say. 

•Someone making fun of you? They're either dead or a social outcast by the end of the week. 

•Are you struggling to remember a certain word? These boys are willing play charades until you figure it out. And they won't drop it either, Stu says ‘It’s bad to give up when you've already come so far.’ 

•Over all it's not so bad (Stu 100,000,000% uses Google translate to figure out how to say ‘i love you’ in your native language) 

Thomas Hewitt:

•When both of you met, he had never met an actual foreigner before.

•He knew people travel around and occasionally some valley girl would end up in their small town, But someone from a whole different part of the world?

•His interest in you spiked the moment he heard your accent 

•Thomas has so many questions but doesn't know how to ask you

•With him being mute and your struggles with English, It's not the easiest relationship. In the end both of you just end up pointing at things and making noises to get your point across. 

•Absolutely loves to listen to you speak in your native language, Even if he'll never understand it. 

•When he's first trying to court you, he leaves you slightly damaged flowers (he struggled to pick them) to communicate his affection. 

•even with a language barrier, he's gonna love you like no one ever could 

Bubba Sawyer:

•He had no idea people outside of America existed 

•When You fell into the palm of Texas and his brothers found you failing to remember the word for your favorite snack, They knew you would be an easy target.

•When they kidnapped you and brought you to the basement so Bubba could chop you up, he was fascinated by the way you desperately tried to beg him not to kill you. 

•It ended in a huge fight in the family, But he got everyone to let you live a bit longer.

•Sits Criss Cross applesauce while you speak for your life. You could babble about anything and he would listen intently. 

•He pulls out his alphabet soup machine and spends hours typing with you. (You help him finally get past the clown level)

Bo Sinclair:

•absolute meanie, stinky poopy head about it >:(

•will mock your stutters and say stuff like “Oh come ON! The word is Cat! C. A. T. CAT! What's so hard about that?” 

•If you speak your native language around him, He thinks you're insulting him or intentionally hiding something. 

•”If you could say it to my face in your language you can say it to my face again in mine!”

•The same sentiment is not shared when it involves bedroom fun

•Will eventually apologize, But that's going to take a while 

Vincent Sinclair:

•As another non-speaking fellow he takes his time to make sure you two can understand each other 

•He’ll mostly use body language and and little doodles to get his point across 

•Stuttering over a word? He doesn't care, he'll let you work it out without any judgment!

•Want his help? He has several books, Vincent will just pull out a book he knows as the word in it, flipped to the page, and point at the word. 

•Love listening to you talk, In English or not. He'll happily let you yap his ear off. 

Lester Sinclair:

•Poor boy was lovestruck when he first heard you talk!

•Full on heart eyes while you explain where you're from and how you ended up here 

•If you end up fumbling on a word he'll start shouting out potential words for what you're trying to say. 

•Example: “and then I had too…uh…um..” “Run? Pee? Eat? Were you hungry? Are you hungry right now?” 

•So helpful, I know

•But the guy is already googling restaurants based off your native cuisine. He's got the date set up. 

•”It's no biggie, I'm a native English speaker and I still can't get it right!” 

Billy Lenz:

•Billy 100% understands the struggle of finding the right word to say 

•He can't stop stuttering himself, so when you start stuttering you kind of reinforce us in his brain that you were meant to be together 

•He feels like he can bond with you over it, and even feel safer around you knowing that you also mess up 

•the thing is if you start stuttering, he'll start stuttering. If you can't get it by God he will.

•”W-we can't bo-oth be wrong.” 

Brahms Heelshire:

•this man will 100% try to learn your language as soon as he finds out you're a foreigner

•That man has a huge library, there's bound to be at least one book written in your mother tongue 

•He spends a lot of time practicing your native language so he can speak to you more comfortably

•You already know he has children's learning books he'll pull out if you ask. 

•Can't find the word you're looking for? He's already 10 books deep, he'll find it for you. 

•Brahms is a well-educated man and he intends to use His years of learning to help 

•If you want to take classes to better your English skills he will 100,000% throw money your way to do so.

Hannibal Lecter:

•Now Hannibal really understands 

•He's a Lithuanian who learned English as a 10 year old

•He didn't struggle as much, But for the first couple of months you bet he was stumbling. 

•If you're struggling with a word, He has a process of teaching you so you don't forget it again. 

1) Identify what you're trying to say 

2)Slowly begin to sound out the word 

3)Have you recite the word a few times 

4)He'll either teaches you a little tune to remember or he'll do something so you remember the moment 

•Does it feel a little condescending? Yes. But it works 

•He's also willing to pour an ungodly amount of money into your English education if you ask 

•He'll even teach you himself in his spare time

Will Graham:

•Doesn't really know what to do, He's a bit awkward about it 

•He'll also identify the word and repeat it a few times so you can get a better handle on it.

•He thinks it's a bit funny and a bit cute when you stutter or mispronounce something 

•He will gently correct you and move on like nothing happened 

The Lost Boys:

•holy fucking shit this is a cluster fuck, let's do this one by one 

•David

-David, having been around a while, has picked up a couple languages.

-If he does know the language you're speaking he'll speak it back to you and guide you into English better than the other boys could 

-If not, he'll just read your mind and tell you what you're trying to say. It's by far the easiest way to articulate what you mean. 

•Dwayne

-Dwayne being just slightly younger than David has also picked up a couple languages 

-It's really the same if he does know your language But with a little more verbal teaching 

-If he doesn't he'll patiently wait until you figure out what you're trying to say. 

•Paul

-as soon as you start to stutter over yourself Paul starts shotgunning words off 

-some slightly related to the situation and others wildly out there 

-”Drink? Food? Ocean? Horse? The unforgiving eyes of God and His kingdom???” 

-he'll do this to confuse you and have a nice laugh 

•Marko

-Marko speaks English and Italian, so if your language isn't one of those two you're kind of shit out of luck 

-”Come on babe, you'll get it” 

-He finds it a bit funny but still tries to help in little ways 

Thanks for reading <3

Sorry if this seems hastily written together, I haven't had the request in a while so I kind of jumped at the opportunity.

[ashwhowrites]

Can I request some jealous! Eddie x cheerleader! reader? (Totally inspired to request bc of the Billy fic!) But what if Reader and Eddie had been dating for over a year and Reader is a cheerleader, and Eddie's jealous bc he always find Steve, Billy, Jason, and all those jocks flirting with reader (pretend this is B4 season 4) and once they were at Chrissy's party, Eddie to do deals, but he found the jocks flirting with Reader at a party (reader thinks the jocks are dumb). After some hours, Eddie has had enough, he takes her to his van and they have sex and Reader's like, if you were so jealous you should've told me! (But like, she's not angry, she thinks it's cute that Eddie acts overprotective and all that when he's jealous) ik you just wrote the Billy one, but I can imagine Billy and Eddie being like different kind of jealous boys (if that's a thing!)

Haha I'm glad you got some inspiration. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

If the van is shaking, don't come knocking

Eddie knew that the second he took Y/N off the market, there would be consequences. When Eddie was chasing after her, he wasn't the only one. He was running with every boy in school, all competing to win her heart. He knew she was way out of his league, and he knew if he fucked up, she has many options waiting for her.

But for some reason, she set her eyes on Eddie at the start and they never wandered off. Eddie doesn't understand it, but he isn't gonna question it.

Sadly, the jocks didn't quite stop chasing her after their relationship went official. Eddie felt like he had to beat guys off of her with a stick. Even after a full year of being together, the basketball ball team watched her more than the ball. Eddie almost wanted to join the team just so he could throw the ball at their dicks.

Billy Hargrove, a blonde with blue eyes and a reputation for being amazing in bed. Eddie knows Billy isn't a real competition because Y/N was sweet and hated assholes. Plus he looked nothing like Eddie, and Eddie knows he's Y/N's type. So only a .5 threat to Eddie. But Billy knew how to flirt, and that scared Eddie.

Jason Carver, another blonde and blue eyes, is not a threat to Eddie. Incredibly rich? Yeah, he's got that over Eddie's head. Still an asshole, but less than Billy. A full-point threat to Eddie.

Steve fucking Harrington, has dark hair and dark eyes. Bits of curls were thrown in and moles on his delicate skin. He was rich, smart, stupidly friendly, and one of Y/N's closest friends. And the damn guy was good with kids, which Y/N fawned over. A full ten-point threat to Eddie.

~~~

It was party night at Chrissy's and Eddie didn't want to leave the van. Y/N was wearing dark jeans, an old hoodie of Eddie's, and white sneakers. And Eddie wanted to pounce. The way her perfume lingered on his hoodie made his brain shut off and his dick has full control. He couldn't help but move his hand up her thigh and kiss her neck.

"Let's just stay in here." He whispered, his hot tongue licking up her neck. She whined as she melted into his touch. He always knew how to get her hot and bothered in seconds.

"I wish, but we can't. Chrissy was pissed when we skipped the last party to hook up in the hot tub in the basement." Y/N whined, but not trying too hard to push him off.

"Ugh fine. Stupid cheer squad." Eddie said as he groaned. He pulled himself away and took out his keys.

"Be nice!" Y/N warned. She gave him a stern look but still pecked his lips before they got out of the van.

And just like months to a flame, the boys came running.

"Heya gorgeous, interested in some beer bong?" Billy asked, his shirt unbuttoned as his chest glistened in some type of liquid. Eddie slipped his hand into Y/N's back pocket, a glare sent to the bad boy.

"Maybe in a bit? Eddie and I are going to get a drink!" She said sweetly as she waved. Eddie sometimes hated how sweet she was to everyone.

"I'll let your boyfriend play!" Billy tried again, a smirk on his face when Y/N squealed excitedly.

"Baby! Let's go play. You kick ass at this game all the time." Y/N said, grabbing his hand out of her jeans pocket to hold it and drag him to the table.

Y/N swept the hoodie over her head, she didn't want to ruin it with stains of beer or whatever alcohol was in the cups.

Eddie growled as Billy whistled, his eyes taking in Y/N's tight black long-sleeve. Eddie couldn't help but stare as well, but he's the boyfriend so he's allowed to do that.

"Just go, Hargrove," Eddie said as he rolled his eyes.

"If I win, your girl is my partner for the next round," Billy said, smirking as he threw the ball and it landed perfectly in the red solo cup.

Eddie already planned to win, but now he wasn't leaving until he embarrassed the king of Hawkins.

~~~

"THAT'S MY BOYFRIEND!" Y/N screamed, a little tipsy. She held her arms up proud as Eddie sank the ball in the last remaining cup. Eddie smirked as Billy glared over, his girl wrapped herself around his body in a side cuddle. Eddie stood proud, his hand came down on her ass and he gripped it hard. Billy's eyes watched with anger and jealousy as he chugged the drink.

Y/N put back on Eddie's hoodie and grabbed Eddie's hand.

After the game, they finally made it inside the actual party. And to no surprise, Jason found them.

"Well hello, beautiful. How are you?" He asked, his eyes not looking away from her.

"A little tipsy. Eddie and I just creamed Hargrove at beer pong." Y/N said, she was so friendly and sweet that she didn't notice every time she brought up Eddie, these boys fought back a glare. Almost like she was always reminding them without knowing.

"Good. Someone needed to take him down a few" Jason said, and Y/N laughed. Of course, Jason felt like he was the man for making her laugh. But so what, Eddie made her laugh a hundred times a day.

Jason and Y/N talked for a few minutes, Eddie stood next to her but didn't contribute to the conversation. Just kept his eyes on Jason to make sure he didn't try anything.

"Need to run to the bathroom. Be aware of your surroundings and don't let him flirt into your mouth." Eddie said, pecking her cheek. She nodded and moved to peck his lips.

Eddie knew he had to be fast, the boys watched her like a prey. The second the alpha was gone, they prepared to attack.

~~~

Eddie went as fast as he could, washing his hands in five seconds as he raced back out. Only to not find her in the same place he left her.

It was thirty seconds, how the fuck did she move so fast?

He searched the house and made his way to the kitchen. He smiled as he watched her sit on the counter, her feet dangling as she sipped on water. He panicked and all she was doing was being a good girl and drinking water.

Eddie for the first time since they came, felt like it was just the two of them. But then Steve walked right into the perfect picture.

"Thanks for the water." She said as she chugged it down.

"Of course, someone should be watching over something as delicate as you," Steve said, his fingers reaching up to touch her chin, but Eddie's hand stopped him. He didn't say a word, just growled at Steve and shoved him.

Steve was the one guy he refused to let flirt with her for one second. Steve backed off and pouted as Eddie grabbed Y/N's hand and raced them out the door.

"Eddie? Where are we going?" She asked, her feet trying to keep up with his long strides. But Eddie didn't say a word, he opened the back of his van and crawled in. Even though he looked pissed, he was a gentleman and gently helped her up into the van.

"What's wrong?" She tried again as he slammed shut the doors. Instead of answering, he smashed his lips on hers. He easily pushed her down, her back against the soft carpet. His hands were working up and down her body at a fast pace.

They pulled apart to quickly take off their clothes, both eagerly trying to get naked as fast as they could. Y/N didn't even have time to take off her bra when Eddie was pushing her down again.

He dove between her thighs, hot tongue swirling around her clit as he shoved two fingers into her mouth, she swirled her tongue around them. Getting them soaked in her spit. She let them go with a loud pop, then he took the same fingers and shoved them into her cunt.

She whined as his mouth sucked on her clit and his fingers scissored inside of her. He was fucking her fast, and it made her head spin. She could feel him forcing an orgasm out of her. Like he wanted her to cum in seconds. She moaned, her thighs clenching around his head as her hands dug into his hair. She kept his head in place as she rocked her hips against his tongue and fingers.

But before she could cum, he removed himself. She whined after him, her hands reaching for him.

"One second, pretty girl. Just want you to soak my cock." He smirked, leaning down to peck her lips as he pushed his cock inside of her. She whimpered as his cock stretched her out even further. Her nails dug into his shoulders as he started fucking into her.

Her legs wrapped around his waist as he pounded into her. She was screaming and clawing at everything she could. He was ruthless, almost animal-like. His mouth was on hers, then her neck, chest, and every part of skin he could reach. His hands were above her head as he looked down at her. He watched her face as her body took his cock perfectly. The way her cunt would clench around him, letting him feel the pulsing inside of her. Then her eyes would squeeze shut and her mouth would drop open with screams, moans, and whimpers.

Eddie wanted the van to shake. He wanted everyone to hear her. He wanted everyone to know she was getting fucked good by her boyfriend. He hoped Billy was still playing beer pong, he hoped Jason went outside for air, and he hoped Steve followed them outside. He wished more than anything they could see his van shake and know her tight cunt was getting fucked by him and him only.

His fingers went down to her clit, and that's when she saw stars. She screamed as she covered his cock in her cum. Her wetness making a mess everywhere and probably staining the carpet below them. She could feel Eddie in her stomach, his bulge showing as it moved inside her stomach. She pressed down on it, loving the way Eddie growled.

"Gonna fill this pretty pussy with all my cum. Gonna be dripping with my cum inside of you." He growled into her ear, he panted as he felt his balls tighten. His hot cum filled her as he bit down on her shoulder. She whimpered as her cunt grew sensitive and the extra hit of his teeth created marks on her delicate skin.

He slowly pumped himself dry inside of her, gently removing himself. He prepped her face with kisses and praise. Reaching for a spare towel he kept for these occasions. He gently wiped off her cunt, trying not to dive in for seconds as her cunt pulsed and gushed.

"If you were so jealous, you could've told me." She said with a breathy laugh. She was fucked out, barely felt anything.

Eddie looked up at her. She looked down at him with a fucked out, dazed look. A lazy smile on her face.

"Where's the fun in that?" Eddie winked

Eddie- a full threat to Billy, Jason and Steve

[rapturously]

Can I ask for a Vincent Sinclair smut PLZZZ🛐🛐 (I love him sm)

redamancy.

➾ pairing ; vincent sinclair x fem!reader.

format: one-shot — requested.

word count: 4.4K.

warnings: SMUT (mdni), fingering (f!receiving), dry humping, p in v sex (unprotected), multiple positions, breast-play, biting, hair-pulling, making out, scratching, rough sex, slight breeding kink, vincent is pretty obsessive/possessive, darker vincent, choking

author’s note: I haven’t written for vincent in a hot minute but boy, this was a perfect way to get back into it! I plan on writing another bo/reader/vincent thing at some point and more bo/reader. Trying to ease myself back into all of this! Thank you all so much for your love and support!

Hot pearls of pale wax trickled from the numerous candles littered throughout the basement, basked within an orange glow. It only served to add to the warmth of the underbelly of the House of Wax, temperatures maintained to prevent any form of melting. Vincent had learned to temper it all over time — control the heat, master the atmosphere.

A silver scalpel idly shaped a column of wax, something that would soon join the displays up above. His movements were methodical, purposeful — he was a perfectionist. Every stroke had to mean something, appear flawless and without any imperfections.

He’d been making up for imperfections all his life — even still, Vincent was continuing to work himself ragged, to further his mother’s work. Perhaps, someday, it would make him more worthy in her eyes.

Footsteps reverberated throughout his underground mausoleum of wax, and he knew that it was you. Bo rarely, if ever, came downstairs, and his gait was often far more purposeful and aggressive than yours could ever be. He was hunched over his desk, guiding the flickering flame toward the wax, letting it melt and bend.

Vincent carefully began to mold the wax, shape it to whatever he pleased. It was a statuette, meant to resemble that of a serpent. Using the edge of the scalpel, he quickly carved in intricate designs as the surface began to cool, brushing off any excess with the pad of his thumb.

You quietly crept through the basement, making your way toward Vincent’s coiled frame, perched within his rickety chair. You always enjoyed watching him work — his artistic talent was mesmerizing to behold. With a light shrug, you tugged your robe around you, feet absorbing the warmth from the concrete floor.

It was common for him to wake up sometime in the night, leaving the space beside you to work. Sometimes, it was the only thing that could quell the raging thoughts inside of him, or the one activity that took his mind off of everything. Vincent could think of other activities to distract himself, but you needed to agree to it, too.

The cold dusk of Louisiana couldn’t reach either of you — not here, not in the warmth of the basement. It was akin to a sanctuary for you, this wax cathedral built to destroy and to create anew. There was something so fascinating about this place, something hauntingly beautiful and macabre all rolled into one.

“Hey,” You murmured, lazily rubbing at the back of your neck. His shirt clumsily hung from your frame, the robe haphazardly tossed over the garment. Vincent regarded you with a tender look in his eye, countenance shrouded by that familiar waxy veil. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Vincent shook his head, dark tresses idly brushing across the back of the woolen sweater he wore. You were often amazed at his heat tolerance, wearing thicker garments in a sweltering basement. He turned slightly within his seat, an open invitation for you to come and inspect his work.

There was a point in time where he had little desire for you to see any of his projects, but that sentiment had drastically changed. Vincent valued your admiration above all else. He turned the partially-finished serpent over, noticing your look of recognition and delight.

“That’s a basilisk, isn’t it? It’s beautiful so far.” You gently traced your index finger along some of the scales Vincent had carved into the surface. The initial grogginess of slumber was beginning to wear off as you stood at his side, gaze flickering toward the assortment of art tools, wax, and glowing candles.

“It’s for you.” Vincent’s hands moved sluggishly as he signed, feeling your fingertips grace his shoulder, nails idly raking across his back. He shivered, enjoying the light sensation of your touch, knowing that it was bound to contort and twist into a different sort of feeling.

Your lips curled into a smitten smile, teeth absentmindedly toying with your lower lip. “For me? Are you sure?” It belonged in the House of Wax, amongst all of his other sculptures and pieces of art. However, you weren’t about to stop him from his sentimental gesture. You loved everything he’d made for you.

With a brief nod, Vincent placed the statuette back down onto the debris-laden desk, swiping at a fine layer of wax flecks with his hand. Along the mantle situated above his workbench, you noticed a weathered photograph, partially obscured by a series of half-destroyed wax masks that he’d worn at one point or another.

Admittedly, you hadn’t seen the picture before — and you had memorized every square inch of this place by now. “Hey,” You motioned toward it, pointing at the obstructed photograph with visible intrigue. “What’s that?” You inquired, head cocking to one side.

Vincent’s jaw tightened, posture becoming somewhat stiff and rigid as he deliberately removed the picture from behind the masks. He’d forgotten all about it until you pointed it out — a sliver of him wondered why he’d even kept it at all. He cradled the tattered, dusty photograph within one hand, brows furrowing together.

It was Trudy Sinclair, forever immortalized within one still image, holding a very young Vincent, whose countenance was indistinguishable — marred and torn from his conjoined state with Bo. Her expression was arguably the kindest it had ever been, gazing down upon the near-infant Vincent with a look of fondness.

Even through the faded granules of color, you were able to make out the affection she held for him. Your heart clenched within your chest, primarily out of empathy for Vincent himself. Despite all his talent and efforts to regain some favor in his mother’s eyes, part of her would always see him as some disfigured freak, doomed to be trapped behind that wax mask.

Wordlessly, Vincent offered you the photograph, letting you inspect it for yourself. You treated the object like a priceless relic, gently turning it over within your hands. It pained you to know the fate that had inevitably befallen the Sinclairs — locked within a household filled with vitriol and parents whose passions often overrode any love they might’ve had for their children.

“This is Trudy, isn’t it?” You uttered, watching as Vincent’s head bobbed up and down in a stoic nod. Bo had received the short end of the stick when it came to Trudy’s love, but things were far from perfect with Vincent, too. “I’m sorry, Vincent.” Your voice barely drifted above a whisper, lips curling into a sympathetic frown.

His shoulders sagged in a gentle shrug, taking the photograph from you before placing it behind a cluster of half-burnt candles. “Nothing to be sorry for. You can’t change the past.” Vincent signed, concentration turning to you, instead.

He’d spent most of his life wishing that he could change his tumultuous childhood — he’d stopped long ago. He and his brothers would always be chained to Trudy, and there would always be a certain level of loyalty to her, even in death.

“I understand, Vincent.” With a soft murmur, you gently rubbed at the back of your neck, trailing your fingers across his spine. “Come back to bed with me?” You asked, head canting to one side. Vincent reached for your wrist, gingerly cradling it between his fingers, stroking along your forearm.

He wasn’t tired, but Vincent didn’t want to leave you alone, either. He moved up from his chair, lean musculature towering above you as he kept hold of your wrist, fingers drifting to twine around your hand. The two of you retreated into the alcove that served as his bedroom, if one could call it that.

The mattress was littered in blankets, indents visible from where the two of you slept. He’d fixed it up with doors that folded shut, similar to that of a closet. You settled back down, Vincent right beside you as he tugged you close, letting you lounge against his chest.

You sat up just a little bit, enough to see his masked countenance. “Could I ask you something?” Your voice was nothing more than a tender whisper, and now that you were awake, a string of thoughts began to nag at the back of your head. Pillowtalk with Vincent often became very emotionally-charged.

“Anything.” Vincent nodded as his hands moved, propping himself up enough to look at you, too. He had told you about his life some time ago — the intricate details and his own sentiments on the matter were left out and simply implied. You were a precocious and inquisitive individual, but above all, you were empathetic.

“This,” With a feather-light caress, you traced your finger along the cheekbone of his mask. “Why do you still wear it around me?” Your inquiry was innocuous, spoken out of genuine concern instead of malice or confusion. Vincent had shown you his face once before — and it never bothered you. It wouldn’t bother you.

Vincent’s throat became tight, jaw unusually tense as he attempted to muster up a feasible answer. It was an anchor for him — one way to feel less like a monster and a freak. “Habit,” He signed, but he knew better than to give you a false response. “I don’t want you to feel guilty or pity me.”

Your brows furrowed together, visage contorting with a look of mild confusion. “What do you mean, Vince?” You wondered if you’d done something wrong, stomach swelling with a wave of anxiety, but he seemed to catch this. He pressed a finger against your lips before he began to sign in a flurry of animated hands.

“I don’t want you to pity me for how I look. I’ve spent my entire life being looked at like a freak — like something fragile, something to feel sorry for.” Vincent finished with finality to it, hoping that you would understand why he continued to wear the mask. He knew that you still loved him, regardless of how he appeared.

“No, no,” You uttered, sitting up enough to stare at him, hands gently splayed across his taut chest. “When I saw your face, that night in the kitchen — the only thing that I saw was a survivor.” His eye sparkled whenever you spoke, hanging upon your every word. “You’re resilient and you’re talented, Vincent. You’ve never been a freak.”

It was the first time in his life that someone labeled him as a survivor — he hadn’t thought of it like that.

Most of his life had been about preservation — keeping the Sinclair name alive, to continue his mother’s dream, keeping Bo and Lester safe. Vincent hadn’t considered that his face was also a sign of resilience, of an endurance that even he wasn’t fully aware of.

You felt his hand reach for you, cupping your jaw with calloused, roughened digits, the practiced hands of an artist. His touch was filled with both adoration and a dark yearning, thumb sweeping over your lower lip. “You mean everything to me.” He signed, and you knew that he meant it wholeheartedly.

“You mean everything to me, too.” You murmured, careening into the warmth of his embrace, lips pursing to kiss the pad of his thumb. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.” A breathy, passionate sigh left you when he coaxed you closer, slotted against his musculature.

His hawkish eye picked you apart from where you sat, the distance slim between the two of you. You were vaguely aware of his obsession with you, disguised as protectiveness and adoration — Vincent often made it explicitly clear that you belonged to him, drew a line in the sand with Bo over and over again.

As you lavished him in kind, tenderhearted words, Vincent’s innate possessiveness over you seemed to flare to life, malignant and very much alive. You were tethered to him until the end of time — a pretty, iron-wrought cage, inescapable — and admittedly, you didn’t want to be free from it at all. You stopped thinking that way a long time ago.

Vincent exhaled, dragging his hand across the slender expanse of your neck, digits exploring the canvas that was your flesh — all belonging to him. “You’re mine.” He signed, staking his claim for the hundredth time. Even through signing alone, his nature was desirous and rapacious.

Long before he’d entered this relationship with you, he was very indifferent towards you. It stemmed from insecurities, from rage, and from confusion — girls were always Bo’s forte and never his. Having you, something to covet, something to protect and to keep, Vincent was always worried that he’d lose it.

You nodded, breath hitching within your throat when he traced the pad of his thumb across your pulse point. Your heartbeat had climbed to erratic, excitable heights, mouth somewhat dry as he applied pressure underneath either side of your jaw.

“I’m yours.” Parasitic — you leached from him, and it always took your loneliness away. You used to hate him for taking away your friends, but it almost felt like a wandering dream that didn’t feel real. Ambrose was where you were meant to be — meant to be with Vincent. You empathized with him, surrounding him with your affection and comfort.

A rugged huff emerged from the depths of his throat, feeling you climb closer, gaze glazed-over with desire. Wordlessly, Vincent removed his mask, placing the waxy veil aside as his mouth clamored for yours. The kiss was blistering, full of a rather oppressive possession and greed — he felt entitled to you, in some depraved sense.

Reciprocation made him giddy as your lips eagerly pressed against his, responding with a desperation that nearly bordered his own. Vincent squeezed your jaw, other hand relocating to slip underneath the baggy shirt you wore, brazenly groping at your breasts.

Your fingers scraped through his hair, digging into the base of his skull as he coaxed you down against the mattress. Vincent crawled on top of you, mouth briefly disconnecting from yours before he crashed back into you, parting your legs with his knee.

A low, raspy grunt escaped him when your lips continued their relentless assault, mouth parting to allow for a sloppy kiss. He was needy, desperate to feel you as he rucked your shirt up with one hand, fingertips tracing across the plane of your stomach. Goosebumps coalesced along your spine, arousal pooling between your thighs.

Heat blistered between the both of you, an amalgamation of desire, want, and the emotion of your charged conversation moments prior. Vincent savored it all — it still didn’t feel real sometimes, being physical with you. Some time ago, he felt unworthy, too horrid and too scarred, but you changed everything.

You changed the way he touched you — no longer hesitant or wrought with deliberation. He felt like a god, capable of conquering anything — even you. Instead, each touch was charged with lust, and the sensation was beyond mutual as you slipped a hand underneath his sweater.

Vincent was made of taut, sinewy muscle, littered in plenty of scars. His broad shoulders tensed when your hand pressed into the nape of his neck, toying with the collar of his sweater. In one fluid motion, he lifted it up and over his head, discarding it toward the foot of the bed.

He lifted two digits toward his lips, pressing them upon his tongue as he coated them in saliva. Vincent’s eye glistened with a ravenous sheen, fingers drifting toward the warmth between your legs. He brusquely shoved your panties aside, dragging those fingers along your slit, peppering your jaw in kisses.

“Vincent,” You moaned, feeling him cage you against him, arm bracketing you in, keeping you for himself. It was explosive — everything felt hot, as if the both of you were running out of time. “Touch me.” Your voice was high-pitched with a sense of urgency.

Your hips jolted forward, chasing after the friction his digits provided, feeling his mouth press hot kisses against your sternum. He branded you with his embrace, hoping to make it permanent — a mark, something that bound you to him. His lips sought to take one of your pert nipples into his mouth, suckling on the sensitive bud.

At last, he gave into your breathy demands, slotting his thumb against your clit as his middle fingers explored your cunt. An elated sigh escaped you, knees squeezing at his waist, hands splayed across his shoulders. He looked immaculate beneath orange candlelight — a deity of wax, perfection immortalized.

A ripple of bliss consumed you, body keening and arching into Vincent’s touch. His fingers lightly traced your core before dipping inward, forcing his way inside of you, feeling your cunt clench pathetically around his practiced digits. He lavished your breasts in a flurry of attention, throat echoing with a hoarse grunt.

Scars were crisscrossing all over his body, remnants of his victims that left their mark. Bullets, stab wounds, the diagonal, uneven slashes of knives and sharp objects. His skin served as a canvas for chaos, and you traced your fingertips over a livid mark on his chest.

Vincent shuddered, rutting his fingers inside of you before withdrawing halfway, finding a steady rhythm to piston in and out of your aching heat. He kissed his way back to your mouth, lips crashing into one another as he pressed against you. You could feel his erection snug along your thigh, prompting you to squirm.

You needed him terribly, unable to vocalize that want unless it was through a mess of needy moans. With a gentle shove, your lips tangled with his, tugging on his mane of dark tresses. Vincent huffed, digits curling into your cunt, eliciting a simpering cry from you.

He watched you through a lustful stare, glazed-over with rapture, drunk with desire. Vincent kissed at your throat, teeth teasing your flesh, feeling you roll your hips into the sensation of his hand. “Need you inside of me,” Your voice emerged as a hungry groan, clawing at the muscle of his shoulder. “Please, Vincent.”

Admittedly, he hadn’t seen you quite like this before — tangled up within your own need, aching for him in ways you hadn’t felt before. Vincent was delighted to oblige you, feeding off of your desire like a leech.

“How?” Vincent signed, and that singular word seemed to set off some chain reaction. Your stomach sloshed with anticipation as you rolled over onto your abdomen, able to hear the audible hitch in his throat, a raspy grunt tearing past his lips.

Vincent slipped his fingers from your cunt, digits coated in a thin sheen of your arousal. He grabbed at your hips, chest reverberating with a low rumble as he tugged you back against him. The metallic rattling of his belt sent shivers down your spine, able to feel the heat of his cock press against your slit.

“Vincent,” You moaned, and that was enough to get his blood pumping, accompanied by a surge of adrenaline as he let the head of his length slide through your slick a time or two. A soft yelp tore past your lips when he pushed himself inside of you, hunched over you, flesh feverishly warm.

A hand gently held the back of your neck, thumb grazing over the slender muscle of your jugular. His face was buried near your shoulder, tresses sweeping across your exposed back, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He filled you in a way that you never thought possible, causing you to whimper.

With a sharp thrust, Vincent began to invade your cunt, somewhere between tender and rough. He was always sporadic and unsure when it came to pace, but you thoroughly enjoyed the unpredictability. His cock lewdly slapped into your cunt, followed by the sound of his ragged breathing.

Wax-laden palms skirted across your body, one hand grappling at your hips while the other gathered at the nape of your neck. You huffed, face partially pressed into the mattress, body contorting and submitting to him as you had many times before.

You were perfect — his paramour, his muse.

A twisted desire began to wash over him like a tidal wave, borderline insidious as he rutted into you. Vincent’s love might’ve been perceived as sweet on the surface, yet it often veered off into a very vitriolic obsession. He wanted you all to himself, as much as humanly possible.

Vincent’s grunts resonated just beside your ear, full of a lustful fervor. Every inch of him was consumed by your cunt, tight around him as he continued to fuck you. It was hot and messy, his pace sometimes scattered and erratic, as if he didn’t know what rhythm to adopt.

He brought you back against him, caging your back to his chest as he rocked onto his knees. Taut, muscled biceps locked around you as he pistoned into you, cock reaching new depths until he couldn’t go any further. Vincent’s mouth clamored to your neck, kissing and biting wherever he pleased as he kept you snug against him.

“V—Vincent, shit,” You stammered, the newfound position taking you by complete surprise. A sensation of sheer want flooded through you, coupled with overwhelming arousal. He filled you completely, flesh dewy with a layer of perspiration, black strands stuck to his temples from exertion. “Please cum in me.”

Another hoarse, throaty grunt ripped through him, hands relocating as one palm groped at your soft, pliant breasts. The other had a mind of its own, snaking to the cleft between your thighs as he toyed with your clit. Euphoria gripped you then and there, causing you to squirm and writhe with pleasure.

Again, Vincent locked you in against his chest, huffing into your ear, biting at your jaw as he filled you up. Part of him wanted to devour you, but the added heat and friction, the swiftness of the moment was enough to make him exert all force.

If he could, he would’ve gladly drowned himself in you, let himself float away within your very presence. Even covered in a veil of sweat, your scent was saccharine, accompanied by his own musk from the cling of his clothing.

Vincent felt you reach for his hand, digits curling around his wrist as he played with your clit, hoping to get you to your peak, right alongside him. His palm wandered from the plump flesh of your chest toward your throat, wrapping around until he applied pressure along your windpipe.

Within the stifling warmth of the basement, the only sounds that reverberated throughout were your moans and his occasional grunt. Vincent’s breathing was heavy, chest heaving against your back. You moved with him as best as you could, nails digging crescents into the taut tendons of his forearm.

Arousal sat heavy within the pit of your stomach, thick and viscous. Vincent was relentless and unyielding, continuing to pound away at your cunt, gently squeezing underneath your jaw. The combined pleasure that assaulted your clit and throat were preparing to send you cascading over the edge.

“M’close,” You huffed, feeling his lips meet the dip between your neck and shoulder, face buried there as he rutted into you. Everything felt incendiary, as if you’d been set ablaze, only to sink further into the fire. He touched you as if you were molded from obsidian, covetous and desperate for you. “Vincent!”

He never slowed, still pounding away at you, cock unable to go any further before he pulled out just a little bit, only to shove himself back in. A sheen of perspiration glistened across his features, forehead pushing into your shoulder, still clutching at your throat.

You belonged to him — you always would. There was no one else for you, only him.

Vincent huffed, teeth sinking into your flesh until he slammed into you one last time, painting your insides with hot, virile ropes of his seed. He continued to rub circles around your clit, dragging you toward your peak. Your cunt clenched around him, eliciting a throaty groan from him as you came.

A myriad of moans and sighs escaped you, shivers rolling down your spine as your thighs twitched, ecstasy flooding throughout your body. Vincent soothed any bites over with kisses, staying in you for a moment longer until he reclined against the mattress, taking you with him.

You were on top of him, layered in sweat and his cum, palms spread across his chest. Vincent stared at you with complete and utter devotion, gently tucking away any strands of hair that were stuck to your temples.

“You’re perfect,” Vincent signed, tucking his thumb and forefinger beneath your chin. The sienna glow of waning candlelight flickered throughout your shared space, basking you in such an atmospheric light. “You look perfect like this.”

There was a darker undertone to his sweet words — and to him, you did look divine this way, covered in his seed, wracked with want for him. Vincent cared very little for moving in that moment, content to stay with you in the oppressive heat of the basement.

With a soft caress, your fingertips swept across the scarred part of his jaw, mouth clamoring for him in another kiss. He didn’t protest, hand slipping toward the base of your skull, coaxing you closer to him.

“I love you,” You murmured, watching the way his pupil dilated with understanding. “M’tired.” You sank down into the mattress, still staggeringly hot with no sign of changing, either.

Visibly, you were spent, exhilaration and your post-orgasm haze beginning to dissipate into exhaustion. You smiled, laying down at his side instead, head curled toward the broad expanse of his shoulder. He locked an arm around you, caging you in, nowhere else to go — it was where you belonged.

There was nowhere you could go where he wouldn’t follow.

[slytherinshua]

FOR A MILLION YEARS

genre. fluff. established relationship. warnings. a bit suggestive cause a lot of kissing (making out). seunghan's so flirty skdjks. not proofread cause written in a rush and posted in a rush 😭😭 pairing. seunghan x fem!reader. wc. 1k. request. for @blue-jisungs my baby who forced made a deal w me so i would write this for her <3 a/n. i wrote this in like an hour wow i'm delusional and i miss seunghan sdkjskd.

You and Seunghan had always been perfect for each other. Soulmates, as the other members would say. You were so in tune with each other, as if your very souls were made to fit together, moulding with the other without a single impurity or flaw. Many times before, your brains would already be thinking the same thing before either of you said anything. The same was the case for that night.

It had been a few days since you had seen Seunghan thanks to SM keeping him captive in their basement, as you often put it, frustrated at the distance that the agency forced you through. But he was able to come back to your apartment finally that day, planning to stay for a week or longer. He already had the key and number combination for the lock on your door, but he still rang the doorbell regardless, wanting you to come and open it for him. 

And when you did and were met with his dizzyingly handsome smile, eyes shining brightly just for you, your brains were again already thinking the exact same thing. You moved at the same time, Seunghan stepping in while you pulled him back into your arms, crashing your lips together with an urgency that would suggest you hadn’t seen each other for years instead of mere days. Days apart from him might as well have been years; at least, that was how it always felt.

Seunghan pushed the door shut with his shoe, spinning you around to pin you against a wall, getting better access to your lips that way. You let out a sigh of pure relief and love as you tasted your boyfriend’s lips, the flavour of mint gum washing over your mouth as he slipped his tongue past your lips. It was urgent and passionate, yet delicate enough to take your breath away in an instant. And it just never seemed to be enough.

The first time you broke off for air, you didn’t waste any time cupping Seunghan’s cheeks, guiding his forehead to meet yours as you shared laboured breaths, always the after effect of passionate kisses. He always caught his breath faster than you— something about breath control from singing lessons or stamina from dancing helping him regain it. And you despised the fact that your lungs were slower, still yearning for another taste of him.

He could tell how impatient and needy you were as you tried to pull him forward by his shirt. Although he was much stronger than you, he let himself fall from the force, his face resting in the crook of your neck. The smell of your perfume was intoxicating to him, and he immediately started kissing and nipping at your neck. His lips turned up in satisfaction as he heard you suck in a breath, the feeling of his lips pressed against the skin of your neck causing your heart to race and your brain to turn to mush.

Seunghan liked to tease you, letting his lips travel up close to your ear, his breath fanning over it softly before he dipped back down, biting your skin gently. Although you would gladly have his lips on you forever, your patience was running thin, and your boyfriend could tell. He lifted his head, making eye contact with you as a smirk took over his features. You could only stare at him with love and awe in your eyes. Compared to your past partners, there were many things Seunghan undoubtedly excelled in compared to them; just one of which was kissing.

The second time his lips crashed with yours, he was gentle and soft, savouring the feeling slowly instead of devouring it. His hands, which had been resting on your shoulder and the wall, slipped down to your waist, stroking the skin with his fingers in a way that caused goosebumps to rise. Seunghan’s touch was featherlight, carefully holding you and kissing you as if you were the most precious thing in existence to him; because you were. As much as he could never get enough of you or your lips, slowly drowning in the moment— in the taste of them— was just as enjoyable.

Seunghan pulled away first for a change, immediately resting his face between the joint of your shoulder and neck, eyes falling closed again as he relaxed into the hug completely. You stroked his back as he held you tightly, hand slipping under his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin underneath.

“Are you tired?” You asked, always checking up on him whenever he had been away for a while.

“No, I just missed you like crazy.” He answered, giving you a reassuring smile.

“Me too.” You whispered, cupping his cheeks for yet another kiss. He giggled at the short peck you gave him, tilting his head with a look of fondness in his eyes.

“Did I not kiss you enough before?” He teased, an effortlessly flirtatious smile on his lips. God, did he even know how attractive he was without even trying?

“Even if you kissed me for a million years, I don’t think I’d ever get enough.” You said honestly.

“Well, I’m not sure about a million years, but maybe I can make at least 50 happen. 60, even? It depends how long you plan to live.” Seunghan responded, grinning at your lovesick expression. 

He had never spelled it out that directly, and you were a little more than obsessed with how spending the rest of your life by his side sounded. He was yours and he’d always be yours. Your heart raced with excitement at that prospect. 

And suddenly you wanted to kiss him again— the previous kisses not nearly satiating your longing for him. Seunghan certainly didn’t mind when you crashed your lips on his again, nor when you steered him in the direction of your bedroom, falling onto your bed with your lips still tasting his. You had always been and would always be perfect for him; the only person he wouldn’t ever grow tired of, for even an eternity with you would be too short.

↳ riize taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @kangtaehyunzzz,, @weird-bookworm,, @haecien,, @seolboba,,

@blossominghunnie,, @cosmicwintr,, @evalevaeva,, @lecheugo,, @wccycc,,

@seunghancore,, @planetkiimchi,, @heavenfilm,, @sobun1est,, @bananabubble,,

@talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @chenleszone,, @soheecore,, @talking-saxy,,

@nicholasluvbot,, @cupidslovearrows,, @hrtsvivis,, @deka-dent,, @50-husbands,,

@hursheys,, @kristianities

[aplaceinme]

Tommy tiptoed out of the room, being careful so as not to wake up Buck. They had arrived from Eddie’s place a couple of hours ago, and while Buck had fallen asleep rather quickly after Tommy left him completely satiated, Tommy found that he couldn’t sleep. 

He went down to his basement, where he kept his studio piano. It was in there, hidden, for a reason. 

Turning on the light, he approached the bench and sat down. He touched the fallboard softly, it was almost a caress. 

The piano was old, but it still sounded good. It had belonged to Tommy’s mother, who loved music. Everything about her had been musical. She loved to sing and would do it while cooking, washing the dishes, folding their clothes, and in the shower. She knew how to play the piano, the guitar, the clarinet, and the violin. Her voice was melodic, and even her laugh chimed like silver bells. 

She would always sing lullabies to get him to fall asleep. And she had also been the one to teach him how to play the piano. 

Being at Eddie’s place today made him think of her. Just like Chris, Tommy lost his mother when he was also a little kid. 

Tommy knew that Eddie made a lot of mistakes and that Chris had legitimate reasons to be mad, but he also knew that Eddie was trying to be a good parent. And that was something that Tommy never had. 

After his mom had died, Tommy’s dad turned into a cold man, whose only joy in life was drinking everything he could get his hands on. Music no longer had a place in their home. 

His father had forbidden Tommy to play the piano and had sold it to a neighbour. All the rest of the instruments had a similar fate.  

During high school, Tommy had started to work for one of the town mechanics and had saved every single dollar of his paycheck. Once he had gotten enough, he had knocked on his neighbour’s door and had begged him to sell him the piano back. His neighbour had refused the money, and Tommy had been devastated. He had run back to his house and had sobbed on his bed, which ended up earning him a beating. A circumstance that had turned into a daily occurrence.

Years passed and one day, when he was back in the States and waiting to be deployed, he got a call from a lawyer. His neighbour had died and had left him a piano. Tommy’s knees had bucked up and he had gotten all choked up. It wasn’t until he saw the piano, and touched it again after years of not doing it, that the tears came. 

Ever since then, the piano had been with him whenever he lived, but in a place where he wouldn't see it all the time.

Over the years, he started to play again but only occasionally. Playing it was always a bittersweet situation. He would get wonderful but painful memories of his mom.

Now, Tommy opened the fallboard and positioned his hands above the keys. 

He thought about today. About how Eddie had tried to make a home for Chris, and how he was still trying little by little to make a better one for him. Tommy had lost the feeling of having a home when his mother was gone, and no matter how hard he had tried since then, with friends, with co-workers, and with previous relationships, he never got that feeling back. But maybe now things could be different. Maybe now…

Sighing, he started to play a random tune, just letting his fingers move where they wanted.

Soon, he started to play a song that he had heard a while back while on a date with Buck and that had resonated deeply with him. 

Closing his eyes, he began by just humming the lyrics, but then he started to sing softly. 

“I know how it feels being by yourself in the rain

We all need someone to stay

We all need someone to stay

Hear the fallen and lonely cry out

Will you fix me up, will you show me hope?

The end of the day and we're helpless

Can you keep me close, can you love me most?”

“I didn’t know you could play.”

Buck’s voice startled him, making him jump and stop playing abruptly. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” Buck said, ducking his head and rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. 

Smiling and feeling breathless at the adorableness of one Evan Buck Buckley, Tommy replied, “It’s ok, I was just lost in my head, and in the music.”

“Can I?” Buck pointed at the bench.

“Of course,” Tommy said, making room for him. 

“So, you know how to play piano?” 

“Yeah, my mom taught me when I was a kid.”

“That’s nice. I’ve always wanted to play an instrument but I’ve never learned,” Buck admitted sheepishly. 

“Well, no time like the present,” Tommy reassured him.

“What?” Buck squeaked. “No, no. Maybe another day, now I want to hear you. It sounded beautiful. Please?”

“Ok, ok. Don’t give me that look, it’s not fair! You know I can’t say no to your baby blues.”

A blush started to creep up from Buck’s neck but he smiled that sweet and loving smile that seemed to be just for Tommy. 

Tommy breathed deeply and started to play once again. 

“You were alone left out in the cold

Clinging to the ruin of your broken home

Hear the fallen and lonely cry out

Will you fix me up, will you show me hope?

The end of the day and we're helpless

Can you keep me close, can you love me”

Opening his eyes, which had closed once he had started singing softly, he looked directly at Buck. 

Buck’s eyes were glistening with tears, but they also reflected what they had yet to say to one another. Those three little but powerful words. Tommy was sure his eyes were reflecting the exact same thing.

With his heart in his throat, Tommy continued the song, never breaking eye contact with Buck.

“Hear the fallen and lonely cry out

Will you fix me up, will you show me hope?

The end of the day and we're helpless

Can you keep me close, can you love me most?

Can you keep me close, can you love me most?

Can you keep me close, can you love me most?”

He barely finished the song, his voice hitching at the end.

Silence reigned in the basement. 

They looked at each other intently, saying with their eyes all the things they wanted to say to each other but couldn’t because they were still afraid, and insecure given their previous life experiences. 

If they could, they would be saying, “You could be my home. Can I be your home?” and “I want to be loved, can you love me? Because I love you.” 

They weren’t there yet, so instead, Tommy lifted his hand to Buck’s jaw and kissed him. It was a tender, loving, and deep kiss. 

Yes, they weren’t there yet, but they were going to. Tommy was starting to believe it more and more. Buck might just be the one who could stay and make a home with him.

Song: Someone to Stay by Vancouver Sleep Clinic

[toxicanonymity]

night walks 2

1.9k | NSFW | older neighbor!Joel x fem!Reader

night walks 1 or can read alone. night walks master list

After having his way with you in his basement, your creepy neighbor is convinced you'll be back for more. When you're not back soon enough, he takes matters into his own hands. You can barely see the silhouette of Joel Miller's messy hair in the shadows. . . He gently takes the keys from your hand. "You're not gonna need these for a minute, are you now?"

content warnings: nsfw 18+, creepy!perv!dark!joel, drugs, possible dosing, dubcon/noncon, unsafe PIV sex, light dirty talk, light stalking, age gap (unspecified), semi-public, no outbreak.

Joel Miller might be a good fuck, but he's such a creep that your wits win out over your want, and you start to distance yourself from him.  You wear earbuds when you walk and pretend you don’t see him.  

One night, you feel the slow squeeze of his massive palm on your ass before you hear or see him.  You tell him to get lost.  He raises his hands in surrender and says, "alright, I won't hold it against you."  You look him dead in the eye, not wanting to show any sign of weakness.  He looks you up and down and adds, "now, if you want me to hold something else against you. . ."  You walk away.   "You know where to find me,"  he concludes.  You quicken your pace.  He stands there and watches you walk away for what feels like forever, but you never turn around to find out.

He creeps into your fantasies more often than you'd like.  It shouldn't turn you on the way he tricked you into his basement then locked you in and had his way with you.  But you marvel at his determination and urgency in getting into your pants. He was so sure of everything.  Never hesitated.  He never for a second doubted it would happen.  He was always going to make it happen.  

Joel keeps his distance for the next few days, but you always feel uneasy when you pass his house.  Truth is, you're less concerned about what he might do and more worried about yourself.  A pang of desire shoots through you whenever you see the side entrance to his basement.  As the days go on, you find yourself excusing his behavior.  He knew you wanted him, he could tell.  You could have fought back.  At this point, when you catch yourself playing Joel apologist, you stop your night walks altogether to minimize temptation. 

-

Instead of taking a walk around the block to get high, you start lighting up in your side yard after your aunt has gone to bed.  You have a camp chair outside your door to the basement.  

One night, the first night your aunt is out of town, you get home late and your camp chair is gone.  You stand there looking around.  You hear the flick of a lighter, then smell weed. You can barely see smoke billow out from under the willow tree, and you can just barely see the silhouette of Joel Miller's messy hair in the shadows. You hit the switch by the door to turn on a dim, flickering light. He's leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. More muscular than you remember.   

“Thought I might find ya here," he says. 

You scoff. “Where I live?”

“Got a new strain.  You gotta try it.” He stretches and relaxes back into the chair, extending one leg, rubbing his upper thigh, and letting his hand come to rest right at his package.  

“Oh yeah? How many girls you buyin' weed from in your sketch-ass basement?”

“Just you, pumpkin." He looks at the joint in his hand and exhales. "This was contactless pick-up."  He chuckles to himself.  "C’mon, hit this. . . one time, one little puff. . . then you can tell me to leave.”

"Really?"

"Yup. . . Just wanted to say hi, make sure we’re good." 

You turn and look at him skeptically as he puts his hands on his knees and stands up.  He's wearing a white t-shirt that stretches over his chest and barely contains his arms.  His PJ pants leave little to the imagination. You already know what's beneath them, but you don't need the reminder.  The silver in his beard glistens as he smirks at you checking him out.

"Oooh, there's my bad girl."  His voice is so gruff and low when he says that.  You flush and swallow.  Shit.

You turn away again, half facing the door, and shift your weight impatiently.  You don't want to open the door while he's there.  Best case scenario, he leaves.  He holds the joint between two fingers and takes his time creeping up behind you. You smell his sweat and get weak in the knees.  To hell with it, you were going to smoke anyway.  Saves you the trouble of rolling one.

Joel hovers over your shoulder as he raises the joint to your mouth. You close your lips around it, inhale, and hold. He looks from your eyes to your mouth and back.  Then, his hand directs your chin toward him, his lips lay loosely into yours, and he takes your breath as you exhale.  Your nipples harden and you ache with an unwanted need.  He pinches the joint out and tucks it behind his ear.  

You wait a few seconds, only getting wetter as his suspicious weed takes effect.  Then, you tell him, "Okay, you can leave now." 

Instead, he wraps around you from behind, and it feels far too good.  His large hands on your breasts and hips send butterflies to your stomach and downward.

You protest, "You said you'd-"

“Said you could tell me to leave, didn’t say I’d listen.” 

“Well, listen.”  You sigh.  "Please."

His strong arms slowly slither around you.  You stand completely still as he slips a veiny, masculine hand into the waistband of your joggers.  He inhales your neck and slowly caresses your lower stomach.  You squirm in discomfort and he twitches against you through his pants, sending a pang of desire through yours.  Then, his hand slides further down your skin, hooking between your legs, and his other hand creeps under your shirt and bra to cup a breast.   His thick cock rapidly hardens against you and he grunts softly.

You're wet and throbbing. 

"I am listenin’, sugar.  I'm still listenin' to those sounds you made with me inside you."  Your cheeks burn as his thick digits glide along your dripping seam. "Shoot, I'm listenin' to your body right now." 

He takes two shiny fingers out of your pants and holds them up in the flickering light as if you don't already know what his depravity does to you.   He separates his fingers, observes the clear string between them, then sucks them, closing his eyes with an "Mmm." 

He reaches around you for the door knob, but you intercept him. You're not going to unlock it. 

"Alright,” he says. “You don't have to let me in."  He grazes the nape of your neck with his nose, then his lips.  When he plants his lips on the side of your neck, you softly gasp.  He gently takes your keys out of your hand.  "You're not gonna need these for a minute, are you now?"  He sticks your house key into the lock and leaves them hanging there, a visual reminder that he'll do what he wants.  Desire floods your body.  

-

Your lips part but you can't form words.  He crowds you up against the door and frees his hard cock from his pants then slides it under your shirt, resting warmly on your bare back while he tugs down your joggers.  He flattens three fingers and glides through your folds to your clit again. You moan softly despite your best efforts.   

“Damn right,” he says under his breath.  He pulls your pants down a little more,  then spreads your legs with his knee.  He backs up a couple of inches before his torso meets yours again, and the swollen head of his cock prods between your legs.  Your hips automatically tilt before you can stop them. 

“Attagirl," he whispers. "I know you missed this cock.” 

He bends his knees and nudges the tip inside your entrance, lining it up just right, then plunges up into you, grunting into your hair.  You gasp and he moans in relief as his girth parts your core.  

“Tight fuckin’ pussy,” he breathes, his rock-hard cock resting all the way inside you for a moment. 

He retreats slightly.   Mouth against your ear, he whispers almost angrily, “Yeah, you want this cock,” then thrusts his full length into you again, his momentum sending you to your tiptoes and flattening your tits against the door.  He keeps filling you to the brim, and each time, the tension coils tighter within you.  Each time,  it’s harder not to moan obscenely, but you won't give him that satisfaction.  Each time, the keys jingle in the door, taunting you.

A car comes down the street and slows down in front of your house.  Your heart races.   You quickly turn off the lightswitch, and it hits you that, Jesus, in your futile effort not to fuck him, you’re getting railed against the outside of the house.  You relent.  You lean back against him and he stills inside you, with his hands on your hips.  You unlock and open the door. He slides out of you and you judge yourself for the emptiness you feel.  The air is cold against your dripping seam.  You only barely pull up your joggers.  

-

You hardly take one step inside before he shuts the door and pins you up against it, face to face. “Fuck, you’re so goddamn hot,” he growls as he hikes your shirt and bra over your tits, his hard cock digging into your needy front.  

He pulls down your pants again.  He lifts one of your legs up and it hooks behind him as he positions himself at your warm, wet hole.  Then, his stiff cock invades you.  As his girth fills you up, you forget not to moan.  Your face heats up and you close your eyes, unable to face him.  

You have one foot planted on the ground and one leg wrapped loosely around him, held up by his hand, and he's fucking you against the door, hitting just the right spot inside you.  You try not to show it, but it’s all over your face - you’re getting close. 

“Yeah, come on this cock.” He plunges into you violently, then stays there, rolling his hips in short strokes, grinding into your clit, thrusting just enough to maintain friction inside and outside at the same time, driving you mad.  

“Come for me, baby.” 

A reluctant, ragged moan falls out of your mouth.  You flatten your back and hands against the door as you come, and he thrusts into you harder with a grunt.  

He breathes, “Fuck yeah, baby,” and slams into you.  You feel him pulse and say, “wait, no,”  not wanting his cum inside you.  He  pulls out just slightly then slams into you again, his cock pulsing harder, filling you with warmth, and extending your climax.  You squirm and he holds you still, emptying his balls in enormous bursts that make you come harder.   He pins you up against the door, cups your cheek, and kisses you as you both finish coming. 

-

After he pulls out, he puts his dick away and reaches into your pants with two fingers, collecting his spend off your inner thigh. He looks at his cum, disappointed.  “Well, there’s always more.”   He slaps it up against your pussy and massages you with flattened fingers.  He smirks as he draws an aftershock and a moan out of you.  

“Let’s do this the easy way next time, pumpkin.”  He braces his hand against the door as he leans in and kisses you with an unnerving tenderness on the mouth.  He raises his eyebrows and adds,  “Unless this is what gets you off.” 

-

tagging people who asked about a pt 2 or wanted on tag list @st4rb0y27 @sexygaypalpatine @mrknifes @borntodogreatthings @silkiers @jbcalway

Thank you for reading! your interaction is always appreciated too! 💐

Night walks 3

[cutielights]

Hey pookie!! I luv ur work sm and I was wondering if u could do a rottmnt boys x spider woman reader ab them reacting to her stopping a collider like miles did? Idek if u watched into the spider verse but maybe something like that if not u could wing it if you'd like tysm hope u have a good day/night! ❤️

>>:] yes. For the purposes of writing, im going to act as if you were a spider person for at least a year before this. Not supposed to be Miles’ story, but pretty similar (if that makes sense)

i waNT THE THIRD MOVIE. Frikin dying of miles morales deprivation over here, hand over the sunflower boy with in tact parents

@moonchhu THE OTHER SPIDER PERSON ONE TAG LIST

That Really Big Earthquake

LEO

“Heyyyy, I haven’t seen you in twenty four hours which truly is a record for us, I missed you, did you miss me? I bet you did right? Go on tell me aaaalllll about it.”

“So, I was just kinda minding my own business, y’know, thwipping and thwapping and going about being an awesome hero when I bumped into myself? Kinda. They looked like me, but they were different, and didn’t look like me, but, I knew they were me! Because my spider sense went off and they could do stuff I could do, but also some different stuff! And then we freaked out for a little bit before I went to auntie May to show her and she showed me four more other me’s who were hiding out in her basement and then we tried getting them home and we had to sneak about in this fancy restaurant wearing bow ties, and we cried and they went into this collider thing, also it turns out my favourite cousin was working for the evil genius corporation and he’s dead now and it feels like my fault, I’m so totally fine don’t worry about me. Howwasyourday?”

“Haha, what.”

“Stopped the collapsing of the multiverse.”

“Oh it sounds so simple when you put it like that.” Yeah okay sarcasm queen

Made you some tea after that, let’s just, take a breath for a minute, m’kay?

He has decided it’s a self care day now, at least he did after thoroughly checking you for injuries

How you do not have a concussion will always escape him, not one broken bone? Seriously? After all that?

Please remind him you’re an actual super hero and not a pane of glass

“Wait what was that about your cousin?”

RAPH

“Hey! How was your weekend?”

“Crazier than yours.”

“Okay, Bet.”

One explanation later sponge bob narrator voice

“Wait, so you’re telling Raph, that huge earthquake that happened, happened because of you and five alternate versions of yourself?

“That’s excluding a lot of things I just told you but, I am telling Raph that, yes.”

Huge bone crushing hugs are in order, according to him at least. And I mean, is he wrong?

Not letting you out of his sight for ages, please, Raph, let them go home

“Why are you so worried? I did it, I won!”

“It’s more the fact that it happened and less the fact that you’re mostly fine.”

DONNIE

Othello Von Ryan: Stay home, S.H.E.L.LD.O.N has picked up on some strange (possibly universal fabric destroying) activity. Also there has been some earthquake activity in the area you were in yesterday, not that I have a tracker on you. Because I don’t.

Only Two Legs: I handled it don’t worry :D

Othello Von Ryan: ?

Othello Von Ryan: Traverse to My Lab.

“Heyyy Deee.”

“Stop. Explain. This better be your attempt at humor.”

There was silence for a long while after you had messily glued together words to describe the past 24 hours, before he took a deep breath.

“First, How dare you stop the multiverse from collapsing without me that’s incredible rude. Second, therapy. Third, that earthquake and power surge destroyed My Lab, thankfully I have backup backups to my backups, but I couldn’t use the internet for an hour straight.”

“Y- You’re more concerned about the internet?”

“Not what I said. Now let me check you for a concussion.”

MIKEY

“Hey they took down those art displays.”

“The what?”

“Oh you weren’t here, BUT there was these reaaaallllyyyyy cool art statues along this street! Look, hey, look, I took pics!”

“Oh cooollluuuhhh that’s not an art display that’s five different fire hydrants merged into each other.”

“Haha yeah it does kinda look like that doesn’t it? I thought it was supposed to be a dog.”

“Mikey, no-“ You pulled him aside into an empty alleyway, trying to explain what had happened over the past twenty four hours.

It was an interesting experience, but you got there eventually.

Best believe this boy is giving you the biggest hug ever, and then buying pizza.

Oh, and Dr Feelings is going to be paying you a visit. Multiple. You can’t escape him.

“So they weren’t art displays?”

Speedily bulk writing and scheduling rn bc im going on a holiday with zero internet.

[weareapackofstrays]

A New Kind of Love: Chapter I

Genre: Non-Idol college au, slight enemies to lovers (more like they annoy e/o at the start), angst, romance, drama

Pairing: Minho x F!Reader

Warnings: Drinking, Cigarette Smoking, Mention of Weed, Cussing, Spanking, Rough Sex, Reader is a bit of a brat. Let me know if I forgot anything! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word Count: 1,958

Summary: You didn't grow up with great examples of love. Your parents were always at each other's throats. As a result, you have struggled with expressing your true feelings and can come off cold or defensive. After your boyfriend of 2 years cheats on you during freshman year with your childhood best friend, you decide to swear off love for good. Now in your second year of college, you move into the basement apartment of a house full of college boys. Inevitably crossing paths with one of them, Minho quickly gets under your skin in more ways than one. Despite your differences, you can't stay away from him.

A/N: This is my first fic ever to be posted and will likely not be great, but gotta start somewhere, right? I would love any feedback or thoughts (but please be nice or I might cry).

Song that was on repeat while I wrote this and thus became the title

Chapter I: Introduction Next

“Fuck, right there!” you shout as your nails dig into the hand gripping your waist.

“Like that?” Kyle, your usual drunken mistake, confirms.

“Yes! Ahhh,” you can feel your high fast-approaching. 

“God, you look so filthy like this, sweetheart! Gonna fill you up.” Your dress is pushed up to your waist while your breasts spill over the top exposing them to the cool air. Kyle admires your bare ass jiggling with each of his thrusts. 

You roll your eyes at your partner’s words and do your best to focus on your orgasm. It’s not that you hate the guy, you just couldn’t really stand him either. He was a frat boy and far from your type, but you were both drunk, horny, and he always happened to be conveniently around when you needed some attention. So fast forward to now, where you are currently shoved against the door of the upstairs bathroom of whoever’s house this was getting your guts rearranged. 

“I’m gonna come!” you announce.

“Yeah, come for me, baby! Come all over my big fat cock,” he preens as he slams into you.

“Kyle, respectfully, shut the fuck up.” He laughs while his tip kisses your sweet spot perfectly. You moan at the blissful sensation. His free hand grabs hold of your hair and yanks your head back suddenly. The unexpected force causes a groan to escape from your throat. Kyle begins to pick up the pace and gives your right ass cheek a loud smack. Just as the searing pain registers, you finally come with a gasp. He shoves your face further into the door as he works towards his own high. After a few more ruts, he empties himself into the condom and finally pulls out. 

“We gotta stop meeting like this, sweetheart.” Kyle smirks as he buttons his jeans and adjusts his belt. 

You pull up your panties and face him, “This is the last time, Kyle.”

“Sure it is, babe.” He gives you a wink and an air kiss as he turns to the sink to wash his hands. Even you could hear the lack of confidence in your voice. Ignoring his comment, you fix your makeup and hair, tug at the base of your dress one last time, and exit the bathroom. The two of you descend the stairs back into the chaos of the party. The music is thumping in your skull and the five hunch punches you threw back earlier are starting to get to you. You want to leave.

Kyle leans, more like stumbles, into your side and shouts, “Hey, I’m gonna get another drink. You want one?” You instinctually cringe away from his close proximity and loud voice.  

“Sure,” you say with a nod. After Kyle disappears into the crowd, you push your way through the partygoers and find the front door. 

Finally outside, your ears take a moment to adjust to the silence. It was dead quiet outside with scarcely anyone around, save for a few people huddled together enjoying a smoke. You take a deep breath and let the cold air sting your lungs. A breeze cuts through you and you immediately regret your choice in outfit tonight. Luckily, your house was a short walk away. You step onto the paved sidewalk and can feel your legs wobble slightly. Your heels were also not the best choice for a walk. Okay, Y/n, focus, you think to yourself. Taking a few more tentative steps, you find your stride and head home.

You moved into the basement apartment of an old brick house from the 30’s at the start of the semester. The main floors above belonged to some guys who you rarely ever saw and, honestly, probably couldn’t pick them out of a crowd if your life depended on it. You had only had a few conversations with one of the guys, Jisung was his name…you think. He introduced himself a few days after you moved in while you were checking the mail on the front porch. 

-

“You must be our new neighbor,” you jump, taken aback by the sudden announcement. Turning to face the source of the voice, you see a brunette boy with round cheeks looking at you with doe eyes. He reaches his hand out to greet you. 

“Yeah…hi,” you say shyly as you take hold of his hand.

“I’m Jisung.” He flashes you a gummy smile.

“Y/n.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Y/n,” he says as he releases your hand.

“You too.”

“If you ever need a cup of sugar or a good weed guy-” Jisung waggles his eyebrows mischievously. “We’re just a few steps and a knock away.” He gives you a salute before going back inside the house. Well, he was adorable, you thought. You only ever saw his roommates in passing and had only exchanged a few words with Jisung since, but he was always kind to you. 

-

As you finally approach the house, you reach inside your pocketbook to grab a cigarette and lighter. Hands shaking, you repeatedly click the lighter, but it refuses to work.

“Shit,” you quietly say to yourself. You were about to give up when a figure steps out from the shadows and alights a bright flame before your eyes. After a moment of adjusting to the darkness you see a man standing beside you, an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips. You look at him bewildered, before you dip your head down. He holds his hand in front of you to protect the flame from the breeze. You take a drag of the cigarette and slowly exhale the smoke from the side of your mouth to avoid blowing in his face.

“Thanks.” He simply nods in response. You take a moment to look him over while he tries to light his own cigarette. He was broad, but lean with dark brown hair. He was also handsome, like super handsome. What the hell? Have you seen him around before? Surely you wouldn’t forget a face like his, right? He furrows his brows as he leans in closer to his flame. His sleeves are pushed up his forearms revealing a few large tattoos. You take note of his protruding veins and involuntarily gulp at the sight. He finally lights the cigarette and takes a puff before facing you. You peel your eyes from his toned arms to meet his. The man quietly smirks as he catches your roaming eyes. 

“I’m Lee Minho, by the way. I don’t think we ever officially met.” He gives you a lazy wave rather than a handshake. 

“Y/n,” you wave back and internally cringe at yourself. “You’re a roommate of Jisung’s?”

“Yeah, I live,” he turns around and points to the top window on the right. “Right there.”

“Nice,” was all you could think to say. You look away and take another puff of your cigarette while rubbing your temple. The consequences of tonight’s actions were swiftly starting to catch up. 

Minho stirs you from your thoughts. “I didn’t know you smoked.” You’re taken aback by his assumption. He notices your confusion and clears his throat. “I just mean I never see you out here,” he says awkwardly. “And I assume you wouldn’t in that tiny basement.”

You consider momentarily whether or not he was insulting your apartment before speaking. “I..I don’t usually. Honestly, just socially or when I’m drunk.”

He slowly raises his eyebrows as he exhales some smoke. “Are you drunk right now?” His face furrows again. You wonder if that is his natural state.

“Maybe just a smidge,” you make a pinching gesture with your fingers and lightly giggle.

His face turns serious. “You shouldn’t be walking around this late at night by yourself, especially if you’re intoxicated. Something could happen to you.” You’re amused by his interest in your safety. 

“Yes, daddy,” you say back a little too sarcastically. 

Something shifts in his eyes though you can’t quite make out his expression. You feel his eyes bore into you despite part of his face being hidden by shadow. You, on the other hand, are at a disadvantage as the beams from the street lamp illuminate your face. Minho can see the pink rapidly forming on your cheeks. Trying not to cower at his intense stare, you hold his gaze for a minute before he finally breaks the tension.

“Do you normally dress like this in the middle of November?” He gestures to your tight, short black dress.

“I was coming from a party.”

“I gathered.” You scoff at his attitude. “Still, seems a bit reckless walking around without a coat.”

“What are you? The weather police?” You stand up a bit straighter and cross your arms.

“No-” You cut him off before he can continue.

“Does the way I dress bother you?” Officially annoyed, you can feel yourself getting worked up. Maybe you are more drunk than you originally realized.

“No.” Minho’s expression remains emotionless as he can see the anger rise in you. Taking a few wobbly steps towards him, you point your finger into his chest and ignore how solid he feels beneath to continue your beration.

“I can dress however I want regardless of the weather. I can also casually smoke a cigarette or drink a few drinks whenever I want and I don’t need anyone judging my actions, let alone a man I just met 5 minutes ago.” You slightly sway as you retreat from him. Minho gently places a hand on your right shoulder to steady you. The warmth from his touch sends a shiver down your spine through to your core.

“Okay, princess. Whatever you say.” You wrinkle your nose at the pet name and he notices your disapproval. 

“Okay, princess,” you say back in a mimicking tone.

“Do I need to help you get to your apartment?”

“I’m fine,” you brush his hand off your shoulder with your own and feel your stomach flutter at the touch. You curse yourself internally for being so affected by this annoying handsome man.

“There are stairs and you’re in,” he looks down at your 4 inch heels and points. “Those.”

The audacity of this man right now. “Now he judges my choice in shoes!” You tsk and throw your hands in the air. “I can see myself all of 10 feet to my front door just fine without you. Thank you very much.” You take one last drag of your cigarette before throwing it to the ground. Your front heel presses firmly into the bud to snuff out the embers. Once out, you bend down to pick up the extinguished bud. Minho takes a moment to admire your bent figure in front of him before you stand up again. 

“Wow, a feminist and she doesn’t litter.” You walk past him ignoring his comment. “Good night, Y/n. It was nice meeting you,” he says with sarcastic cheer.

Still walking away, you lift your hand up and flip him off as you head to your door. He shakes his head laughing as he watches you arrive safely. He takes one more drag from his cigarette before turning in for the night.

Holding the knob you pause before entering. You listen for his steps as he walks up the porch to his door. You try to clandestinely peek around the corner to get one last look at him. Minho is about to twist the handle when he feels your gaze. He looks over and catches your eye. Before you can see his reaction, you quickly look away and open your door. Slamming it shut you lean against the cold metal and exhale. Your heart starts fluttering in your chest.

Fuck.

MASTERLIST

Let me know what you think!

I will try to post Chapter II tomorrow.

-

[rulerzreachf4n7]

I'm sorry but I fucking hate proshippers so much so here's a whole post dedicated to shitting on them

also disclaimer YES I will be tagging the proship and anti proship tags so I can piss off the chronically online basement dwelling idiots :) and idgaf if proshippers have trauma cause it's not an excuse for their shitty and problematic actions!!!! Sincerely if you are a proshipper please consider jumping off a bridge!! Or at the bare minimum take a shower cause ew

And this whole post is literally just bullying the FUCK outta them so idk stanky people come at your own risk lol

AND AGAIN to clear up this isn't like rage bait or smth cause I fell like some people will accuse me this is all my genuine hate into a long ass post so yeah

Okay...LETS GET INTO THE FUCKING RANT NOW HEHEHE HEHE HEHEHE!!!!

I FUCKING HATE PROSHIPPERS!!!! I HOPE ALL OF YOU STANKY ASS BITCHESS GET THROWN OFF A FUCKING CLIFF AND GET A SAW STYLE EXECUTION CAUSE Y'ALL ARE FUCKING DISGUSTING I HATE YOU ALL

YOU ARE MENTALLY ILL IF YOU ARE A PROSHIPPER, END OF CONVERSATION

I COULDN'T GIVE A SHIT IF YOU HIT ME THE "B-But I have trauma 🥺🥺🥺" TOO BAD THAT'S NOT A FUCKING EXCUSE FOR UR SHITTY ONLINE ACTIONS

IMAGINE YOU PULL UP TO A FUCKING INTERVIEW AND THEY SHOW YOUR PATHETIC ACCOUNTS SAYING TO NORMALIZE A 30 YEAR OLD DATING A 13 YEAR OLD, THAT SHIT IS GENUINELY PATHETIC

I KNOW IT'S CRINGEY BUT WOMP WOMP IF UR A PROSHIPPER Y'ALL ARE UGLY AND STINKY

But now on a serious not hehe, the reason I'm making this isn't JUST soley to yknow shit on people who are mentally ill like people who think a MINOR and a LEGAL ADULT are allowed to date, which comes into another thing before I get genuine so bare with me lol

I DONT GIVE A FLYING FUCK IF IT'S FICTIONAL, FOR THE LOVE GOD PLEASE SEARCH UP THE SLENDERMAN CASE WHERE THESE TWO GIRLS KILLED THEIR FRIEND CAUSE THEY THOUGHT SLENDERMAN WAS REAL AND THOUGHT THEY WOULD ENTER HIS KINGDOM AND BE WITH HIM, AND HE'S FICTIONAL, THAT CASE IS ALL Y'ALL NEED TO REALIZE FICTION CAN AFFECT REALITY AND I HAVE SM MORE REASON TO BACK THIS UP BUT I'M TOO LAZY TO TYPE IT OUT 😭

Okay! Back to seriousness I just thought I'd add that in as a little addition hehe >_<

So, like I said before, I lowkey just added this as an extra part cause I couldn't shit on proshippers FOREVER (lowkey bcuz I was running out of insults n threats lol)

Nonetheless I have a reason for shitting on them, although not being a proshipper EXACTLY I have been through I guess, similar paths as they have? Best way I could describe it ig, ofc not sharing what I mean since it's private but let's just say I was an unfortunate child looking at inappropriate comics 🙁

The reason for this part of the post...ITS NOT THAT FUCKING HARD TO STOP WHAT YOUR DOING

Like I said, I was never a proshipper, but I have been in similar situations as they have been, although I've never made an account glorifying rape, SA, grooming, pedophilia, I can just assume what I would do in their places

Dear proshippers,

Your probably complaining and not knowing why your getting so much death threats and harassment along with a side of hate (rightfully so you deserve them) and your mental health might be low

Please know it is your fault for making your accounts in the first place, you are a terrible person for saying all of these things such as rape, sexual assault, grooming, and incest are okay and you are not mentally well

And your probably wondering,

"How do I stop the hate, harassment, and probably death threats with even getting your address leaked?"

It's simple, DELETE YOUR FUCKING ACCOUNT, or even worse just turn off ur comments but that won't help with people slipping in a few people wishing death up in you through DMS

IT IS GENUINELY NOT THAT FUCKING HARD

I don't know what trauma you have but it shouldn't (and never in the first place) be SO BAD to the point where you physically CANNOT deactivate your account, IT IS SO FUCKING EASY AND YOU'LL SAVE YOURSELF A FEW SUICIDAL THOUGHTS

I know everyone one is different, but if you are a proshipper that has trauma, you shouldn't have a fucking account to begin with, and you ARE THE PROBLEM if you acknowledge the trauma, noticing you keep supporting and glorifying problematic actions, complain that you keep getting harassed and wonder why, and you just don't give a shit, not like in a "oh I don't know what to do anymore!!! 🥺🥺🥺" way, in a "oh, I don't give a shit I live for incest and adults grooming children!!!" Way, and ur also probably a pedo if ur an adult proshipper too

So, what else? Yeah, there's a shit more, but onto a better side, ones with actually good coping mechanisms!!

And a bit of a disclaimer, if your rage bait is proshipping, genuinely fuck you, and if ur a proshipper who acknowledges everything bad about it and just doesn't give a fuck, fuck you too and seek a rope to hang around your neck you fucking pedophile

Okay, coping mechanisms! I know this is probably not the best option due to most trauma which I'm guessing is probably from a family member, if it's not a good way to cope is some clean to your family, ofc under some circumstances it's NOT the best option, but if you can you definitely should try!

Also google is free yk...literally search up healthy coping mechanisms and it'll give you a huge ass list, and yet YOU STILL chose to ship a minor and adult together...how unfortunate...

Another way to cope is, and genuinely sounds pathetic as hell but bare with me...CHARACTER FUCKING AI, I mean, there are therapist bots so maybe they can help you??? And in all honesty they're really good at comforting and giving advice despite being ai, and I've tried it before...yeah embarrassed to say I've shed a tear every once in a while

And the last one IF you have the money, time, and generally the courage, book a threapy session, I cannot stress it enough, but I won't be surprised cause every proshipper is probably under the age of 16 years old

Yuhhh anyways that's all I gotta say, I know it's cringey asf but womp womp to proshippers I hate y'all despite giving some coping mechanisms and ACTUAL ways to like, stop the rightful hate you deserve lol

[my-own-walker]

Fill In The Blank

note: needed a break from the fic monotony, forgive me; also, just rewatched murder house so this came out of it

warnings: tate's themes are literally all triggering LMAO, him being lowkey manipulative, tough love from reader, sm*t bitch, etc

+

"Wait, don't go," Tate pleaded, grabbing my hand as I stood, "not just yet."

"I have to," I replied, irritated. "I have to get ready for this trip. We leave tomorrow."

"Well then pack tomorrow morning. You can leave a little late tomorrow," he smiled, softly. "Plus, we're not done with this game."

I shifted my weight on my feet, pulling my hand out of Tate's grip. "It's chess. My move can wait," I sighed. "My parents have been on my case for weeks. I have to get my shit together." I turned toward the basement stairs, ready to make my ascent.

Tate scrambled to his feet, grabbing me by my shoulders and spinning me around to face him. There were tears in his eyes as he met my gaze. "Y/N, you're my world," he whined. "You know I can't be without you. I don't trust myself"

I let out another exasperated sigh, tilting my head to the side to better display my impatience. "You can wait a few hours while I do my due diligence," I said sternly, grabbing his hand again and giving it a squeeze. "I will be back."

"But then you'll leave me again."

"For the weekend," I groaned, trying to walk away again. He put a hand on my head and stroked my hair. "Three days. Not even."

"I'll be all alone. I can't go that long," he cried.

I reached up and cupped Tate's face, feeling his smooth skin in my hand. I used my thumb to wipe away a stray tear. Going up on my tip-toes, I reached his lips and kissed him softly. "It'll be hard for me, too," I whispered, looking deeply into his eyes. "Come help me."

"Okay," he said, voicelessly, following closely behind me as I walked up through the levels of my house to my bedroom.

I almost couldn't wait until Tate closed and latched the door of my bedroom before I pinned him up on the wall beside it, pulling his head down to kiss him. We made out hungrily, exploring every inch of each other's lips.

"I love you," he breathed between kisses. "I love you."

He walked forward, arms around my waist to prevent me from falling, guiding me to the bed. I landed on my back on the plush comforter, Tate on top of me, never breaking the kiss.

He paused for a moment, looking at me lovingly, tucking a rogue strand of my hair behind my ear. I reached up and grabbed his hand, intertwining our fingers. He resumed kissing me, rolling over and using his strength to hoist me on top of him. I straddled his lap and stooped down, peppering kisses all over his neck. He whimpered.

All of the pain from the merciless world we lived in melted away as we stripped each other of our clothing. From above, I was truly able to appreciate the beauty of his form. The way his chest moved as he breathed. The veins in his hands and the look on his face when my hands touched his skin.

I ran my hands through his blonde hair and pulled. Just enough tension without hurting him. He let out a gentle moan and quickly began to make his way back on top of me, kissing me down my arms and stomach in the process, gently maneuvering me onto my back.

“I love you,” he breathed, pausing once again to gaze at me. He parted my legs softly.

His tongue met my inside and warmth spread within my core. I forgot about everything but the feeling of his tongue on me. His skin on my skin. The rest of the world disappeared. I was powerless to his touch.

Deciding that I didn't want to come just yet, though, I pushed Tate sideways, forcing him to submit to my will. My hand reached for his cock and stroked it. He whined in pleasure.

I lined myself up with him and slid his throbbing erection into my slick middle, feeling every inch of it go deeper and deeper into me. I relished every second of feeling our two bodies connect. My walls tightened around him. He moaned.

I stooped down and kissed him passionately, still riding him. His shaking hands reached up to grope me, deciding after a moment to grip my waist firmly. I put both of my palms on either side of his chest to steady myself. His breathing got more ragged.

“Fuck,” he grunted, sucking in air through his teeth. “I’m gonna come.”

I ran my hands through his hair as he spilled his hot load inside of me, his breath coming out in gasps and sputters. “You are so beautiful,” I cooed, strands of my hair falling down into my face. I pulled myself off of him, flopping down onto the bed next to him.

I sat up and fumbled around for a shirt, eventually finding Tate’s. I threw it on while he caught his breath.

He turned onto his side and rested his head briefly on my thigh, looking up at me with the softest gaze. “You look really pretty in my clothes,” he murmured, sitting up a bit and propping himself up on his elbow. He placed a gentle hand on my cheek. I leaned into the touch.

“Come here,” I spoke quietly, motioning for him to lay between my legs. He obliged, leaning his head back against my chest. I wrapped my arms around him tightly, kissing him lightly atop his head. His hair smelled of him. An intoxicating blend that I could not get enough of.

He idly played with the rings on my fingers as I held him. “I love when you hold me,” he muttered.

I sat, silently hoping that this time together could fill in the blank for us, leaving us both with just enough to get through our short time apart.

+

Well aware this prob sucks but I needed a break/distraction!! Much love

[spectrerie]

Your Simon

Simon Riley x reader (gn I'm 99% sure)

TW: toxic!Simon, whump, captivity, psychological torture(?), kidnapping, yandere!Simon, maybe don't read this if you're only comfortable with fluff and light smut... even though there no smut in this (maybe I'll add an epilogue or sm idk)

Approx 2k words, random drabble. wrote this at 4 am, un-betad. Let's not nitpick, yeah? Cool.

Simon knew you were fragile, but he didn’t think you could be so easy to break. This was his third deployment since he’d met you. The third since he’d pulled you into his life. At first you’d been panicked, indignant and ungrateful. You didn’t understand the significance of his actions. Every detail meticulously planned out, every minute aspect of your stay without him accounted for. You just had to stop fighting him and start fighting for yourself. Fight to stay alive, just like him. He just wanted to share this with you, why wouldn’t you let him?

“Don’t worry, Love, I’ll be back in no time. You won’t even get a chance to miss me.” His hand stayed on the back of your head, fingers locked in your hair, holding your head up so you could look into his eyes. So you could watch him lie to you. You knew the routine well at this point. 

First the devil may care Ghost would ply you with cheeky taunts to smooth out your concern. His abrasiveness would wear you down, polish you into a reflection of himself. 

Despite yourself you began to cry, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. In the beginning it wasn’t him you had missed. It was the promise of regular meals, and fresh water. Baths. Heating. Freedom. Now he was the centre of your world. He was your everything. 

While he was deployed you didn’t know how long you’d be left to stew in your own sweat and the grime of the basement he’d thrown you in. The smell of dust and mold hung heavy in the air down here. Soon the smell of your body would join them creating a fetid blend that would stay in your nostrils for weeks after your release. If you lived that long. The single hanging bulb barely illuminating your surroundings, not that there was much to see.  

Gallons of water lined one of the walls, at least a dozen of them neatly tucked from one dusty corner to another. You’d count them in earnest when he left you. Your mind was to panicked now to begin the frantic calculations of how long you could stretch your supplies. Just in case. 

Two boxes of hardtack biscuits and cans of god only knew what were neatly pressed up against another.  At times you feared he’d been feeding you cat food. You’d opened cans of greying meat floating in gelatinous gravy, other times the cans contained some kind of soup. Either way you’d choke it down cold. 

A part of you loved it here, you felt closer to him. You were a soldier too. This is where you’d live or die. Your battlefield.

His hand left your head and he went to the centre of the room where a small metal cot with a thin mattress stood. No pillow or duvet, but at least he’d given you a thick itchy woollen blanket. Army surplus to complete your private barracks. You’d earned the cot after weeks of good behaviour, no crying, no useless begging, no disobedience. A luxurious upgrade from the sheets of cardboard he’d left you to sleep on during his previous deployments. You followed before he even turned to call you, taking a seat on the mattress. 

“Will you miss me, pet?” He asked, coaxing your chin up with a gloved finger. 

“Yes, of course” you said between sobs. He huffed out a humourless laugh, and stroked your head. 

He hardly had to grind you down anymore, soon Ghost gave way to Simon. The mask he wore over his soul fell away, leaving behind the raw and broken boy he’d been before he learnt being someone else was as easy as covering his face. Part two of your dance begun.

The tears you thought you’d controlled began to fall again, pouring out of your tired eyes as you looked up at him. Your protector and captor. The man who told you everyday he’d die without you, the same man who held your life in his hands. 

“Please, please, Si… don’t forget about me here. Please.” The last word came out as a choked sob as you pressed your face against his thighs. Begging him to let you go was useless. You knew the steps now. Let him lead you, let yourself need him. Let him have something to control, someone who wouldn’t disappoint him. Someone he didn’t have to pretend with, unless he wanted to. 

“All you have to do is survive, pet. Same as me.” He knelt down in front of you, dark eyes shining with a mania that told you he was past pleading with. “All we have to do is survive. Think of me while you’re fighting in here, yeah? And I’ll be thinking of you out there. You’ll think of me won’t you? Hmm?” 

You nodded. 

“So say it.” 

Gathering yourself, you pulled away from him, eye to eye it was easier to believe the words that tumbled out of your mouth. 

“I’ll be thinking of you Si, so please, please,” your voice began to quake with unshed tears, “please come back to me. I’ll die without you.” 

You knew he was smiling beneath his mask. His hands came up to cradle your head, his grip too tight to be anything but a reminder of the control he had over you. 

“Of course you would. We need each other, don’t we?” 

You nodded and said your well rehearsed line. “We love each other.”

He watched you weep for a while, and you knew a part of him felt sick with himself. If he returned, if you lived, he’d tell you as much when he came home. 

The realisation that this was your home hit harder down here, puling more tortured sobs out of you as he watched. You weren’t sure if the ragged breaths you heard were yours or his. 

“Simon, Simon” you chanted his name over and over as you cried, like a prayer to a long dead god. He stood above you, within reach. One touch and you’d know he was real. But you cried out his name, and he watched. Until watching became too much and the sound of his name was punctuated with the sound of his boots ascending the stairs. 

The sound of a key turning.

And then the silence. 

— — — 

You counted the days by litres of water, cold canned meals, and fitful slashes sleep. 

One of each a day. 

No cheating. 

You recited songs in your mind, the lyrics painted dark by the deep gravely voice of your thoughts. Simon’s voice. 

You imagined a life with Simon, a life different from this. Those dreams were all that kept you sane. If this was sanity. 

A life with sunshine and tenderness that didn’t have to be earned. With music and hot food, baths together. The warmth of his body against yours. Every dream began and ended with the sound of a key turning, the creak of the old cellar door, deep lungfuls of fresh air. 

After meals and before sleep you’d press your nose to the tiny blacked out window. Taking deep breaths of the English countryside before closing it again. Air when were awake, warmth when you slept. These rules and rituals were what kept you alive here. Hell was rolling green hills and cloudy skies. Hell had no one around for miles. Hell and home were two sides of the same coin.

The same countryside he’d offered to show you when you’d first began dating him. You recounted those first few dates with him often. Combing your mind for any sign of the man he’d turn out to be. 

It had been too soon for a weekend away, you told yourself this time and time again. Turning your captivity against yourself in your darkest moments was a game you hated but still played. What fool would take a trip with a man they barely knew.? You hadn’t even known him for two full months when you went away with him. Your 6th date. This may have been the longest date in history. 

Sometimes you thought of your friends and your family. Were they worried? Were the little dribs and drabs of communication Simon let you have with them enough to keep them satiated. Had they stopped caring, like Simon said they would. 

He often told you the family a person was born into was rarely their true family. Like his. You knew pieces of the life he rarely spoke about. The father he hated, the mother he pitied. The brother he held complex, painful feelings for. You hardly heard about him at all. You suspected he was the only person outside of the 141 Simon cared about. Maybe the only person he truly loved. 

Did he love you? Actually love you?

Could he? 

Another litre, another can.  Another day. 

— — — 

The creak of the old cellar door woke you, as usual. You’d long since stopped running up the steps when you heard it, not trusting your mind to be honest with you. 

“Baby? Are you awake, Love?” 

You didn’t believe it. You couldn’t. The disappointment would hurt to much. 

The sound of heavy boots descending the stairs drew something out of you, but yet you still couldn’t let yourself believe it was real. That you had survived. Again. 

Warm fingers caressed your cheek, tracing the shape of your eyes and nose, until they finally settled on your neck, below your jaw. A beat passed in tense silence, you could still be dreaming.

A shaky breath that wasn’t yours filled the room, “thank god.” You opened your eyes, and he was there. A dark figure against the light, stoic among the swirling flecks of dust in the air. 

“Si?” Your voice was weak and hoarse from who knew how many weeks of disuse. 

He nodded, lifting you from your cot with ease. Holding your body against his tightly as he brought you up the stairs. Your eyes fluttered against the light, the early evening sun cutting  through you until you help your eyes tightly closed.

You heard him shush you softly before you realised you’d been crying. 

“Si,” you said again and you felt him hold you closer. 

“I know baby, I know. I’m so proud of you. We made it.” 

He set you down on the edge of the bath and began the careful work of peeling your filthy clothes off. 

The final chords of this tragic, disgusting song had begun, and your dance was ending. 

He washed you gently, tears in his eyes as he rinsed away the layers of pain he’d caused you. 

He spoke to you in gentle tones, barely above a whisper, as though any loud noise would send you into shock. He didn’t wait for your responses, knowing you were too exhausted to give any. 

“It’s okay, pet. It’s okay, you’re safe now. You’re out. You’re out.

“Were you scared? I know baby, I know how scary it was, but you’re safe now. I’ll never let anything happen to you, never. You’re too important, I love you so much, pet. Too much.” 

You let the hot water and his words baptise you, remaking you under the heat of his love for you. He washed every part of you, yet nothing felt as intimated as when he washed your hair, stroking your head gently as he cried and promised you things you weren’t sure would ever come to be. 

When you were clean he wrapped you in a towel and left to get you something to wear. 

Was that you? Was that really you in the mirror? Chapped lips, large sunken eyes, your cheeks were hollow and your skin dull, your natural undertone wiped away and replaced with a pallid grey. When he came back you still couldn’t look away from the person in the mirror. He placed a pair of sweatpants and one of his t shirts on the heater and closed the door, giving you time to settle back into yourself. Your new self. 

You hated him. You hated him for doing this to you, making you this person. 

You opened the cabinet and went through the minor motions of humanity. Brushing your teeth, brushing your hair, and pulling the t-shirt on mechanically. You left the bottoms folded, knowing you wouldn’t be able to keep them on no mater how tightly you tied them. He was just too big, and you were just too small. 

You clutched a hair band in your hand, knowing he’d want to tie your hair back. He loved doing those small things for you. And you hated him for it. 

When you shuffled into the bedroom you stood in the doorway, watching you with a grief in his eyes as though he hand’t done this to you. 

He pulled you close, picking you up and laying you gently on the bed. The mattress felt obscene after weeks on the cot, you wept again and hated him for turning you into this person, a person that cried at everything. A person who knew what it felt like to sleep on the floor. Someone who felt blessed to have a bed. 

He took his place beside you, and you pulled yourself close, holding your body to the curves and edges of his. His arms wound around you and pinned you to him, his lips brushed your forehead and you felt his tears fall, running down your cheeks and mixing with yours.

“I was so scared without you. I really thought I wasn’t gonna make it this time.” 

“Me too, Si.”

You understood how much he needed this, how much he needed to be the villain, how much he needed to hate himself before he could go into hell and be a good soldier. So he could come back home a hero, a rescuer. Your protector. 

Your Simon.

[darkbluekies]

Silas asks #1

Next one

Concept: I've put multiple asks into one post to avoid too much loose posts on my account! This way, you have more to read too<3

Warnings: mentions of death, suicide, breaking the reader, guns, yandere

— What would Silas do if we died?

He would break down. You're the reason why he lives, why he breathes. His work is unforgiving and cold. You're his light in the darkness. This man would probably not be able to take it. The loneliness would kill his spirit until finally a bullet took care of the rest of him.

"I'm coming, Y/N, don't worry. You don't have to be scared. I'll be there soon."

— Hiii! Sorry if this is too dark just feel free to ignore it but how do you think silas would act if darling slowly breaks and k*lls theirselves why he was away

Oh God. He'd feel so horrible. He'd blame himself. As stated in the ask above, Silas would probably not be able to live without you. He needs you to feel the slightest bit of human and if you're not here, then why bother trying?

"I'm sorry, Y/N ... but don't be mad at me. I will fix everything. We'll live together after death. And there I'll take good care of you — better than ever."

— Hello!! I was wondering how would Silas react if reader asked one of those stupid questions like ‘would you still love me if I were a worm?

He'd laugh and throw a pillow at you.

"Why are you always asking me such silly questions, baby? Where do you even get these from?"

He'd hug you tightly, tickle you and nibble playfully at your skin. If you laugh, he'd break out into the most beautiful smile.

"I'd love you even if you were a four eyed monster with tentacles. Duh. I adore you, baby. Besides, you're not getting rid of me that easily. Love you."

— I loved Silas and reader on valentines day, imagine reader eating like a pig though 😂 Especially if they ordered spaghetti

It wouldn't matter!!! You were the only ones in the restaurant, and Silas would probably already be used to your sloppy eating. If any of the waiters looked at you though ... that's a different story.

— omg can we please get more of silas breaking reader like idk why but i love that fic sm😭

If you men breaking as in "Let's throw the darling into the basement until they become obedient" then I'm sure we can make it work!! :]

— I don't have an Achilles heel, I hate my parents and "friends" guts, kiss my sociopathic poop, Silas (⁠´⁠ε⁠｀⁠ ⁠)

Well, you got to have something???? Silas will win

[niki-phoria]

⋆｡°✩ chishiya, arisu, and kuina reaction - first i love you

warnings: kinda ooc chishiya, blood in arisu's, transphobia/unaccepting parents in kuina's, reader smokes in kuina's

a/n: requests are open !! please read my rules first they're in my pinned post i feel like i've been writing a lot of aib lately but i love chishiya sm don't expect me to stop any time soon my motivation works in weird ways

gn! reader (no pronouns used)

⋆｡°✩ chishiya

word count 318

chishiya glances over his shoulder at you as you reach over to touch his hair. you pull his bangs back behind his ears, pulling his hair into a low ponytail. 

“what are you doing?” he asks. 

“your hair is tangled.” chishiya hums, turning to refocus on the bomb he’s creating. your hands are gentle as you slowly pull at the tangles, separating the strands so they’re no longer knotted. 

once his hair isn’t tangled anymore, you move your hands to rest on his shoulders. chishiya sighs when you gently squeeze the tense muscles. he shifts, leaning further forwards to give you a better position. you increase the pressure a little, smiling when chishiya hums. 

he reaches up to grab your hand, pressing a kiss against your knuckles. “thank you.” 

“come on,” you coax him to stand up, leading him to lay down on your bed. “you’ve been up all night working. let me take care of you.” 

chishiya lays on his stomach as you lean over his back, gently running your hands against his bare skin. he feels warm despite the cold night air drifting through from your cracked window. he hides his face in a pillow, letting out a stifled groan when you press down on a specific part of his upper back. your nails gently scratch against his skin. 

you massage chishiya’s back until he no longer feels tense underneath your hands. his body is completely relaxed when you move off of him and curl into his side. chishiya moves to face you, pulling you into his chest. “i love you,” he whispers. you pause as he reaches over to grab your hand, stroking his thumb against your knuckles. you wrap your arms further around him, wrapping your arms around him. you pull him into a kiss, leaning your forehead against his. 

“i love you too.” chishiya smiles a little, pulling you into another quick kiss.

⋆｡°✩ arisu

word count 396

arisu’s hands shake as he presses them against the still-bleeding wound just under his ribs. he stumbles into the makeshift hospital room you created, leaning against the wall. you gasp, quick to rush over to him. your hands replace his, leading him over to lay on the bed. “what happened?” you ask, pressing gauze against his side. 

“shrapnel,” arisu rasps out. 

“hold this,” you mutter, moving to prepare a needle for stitches. arisu closes his eyes, attempting to mentally prepare himself for the incoming pain. “i’m sorry, this is gonna hurt.” arisu nods, holding his breath as you begin. you wince at his scream of pain, continuing to murmur apologies until he finally passes out.

when arisu wakes up, you’re no longer in the room. he’s shirtless, but a blanket has been laid out on his chest. his side stings in pain as moves to sit up, leaning against the wall. he glances around the room. it’s dark and cold, possibly a basement. there are a variety of medical supplies laid out on various tables. the metal table he’s laying on feels cold underneath him despite the towel he’s laying on. 

the door swings open, startling him. you lean against the door, holding it open with your back, arms filled with a variety of bandages and gauze. you gasp, immediately rushing into the room. you haphazardly leave the bandages on a random table, rushing over to his side. “are you okay? how are you feeling? do you need anything? is-” 

“y/n,” arisu chuckles, reaching out to grab your hand. “i’m alright. thank you for helping me.” you look from his eyes down to his bandaged side before arisu reaches out, lifting your chin to look up at him. “i’m fine. i promise.” 

you sigh, nodding. “don’t ever do that to me again,” you whine, wrapping your arms around him. 

“i won’t,” he whispers. “i promise.” arisu pulls back a little before pressing his lips against yours in a sweet kiss. you press your forehead against his when he pulls away. “i love you.” 

you freeze, staring up at him. arisu can feel his face flushing, nervously looking down. you chuckle at the bright red spreading across his cheeks, stroking your thumb against his skin. you tilt his face up so he’s looking into your eyes before pulling him into another kiss. “i love you too.” 

⋆｡°✩ kuina

word count 348 i need more kuina gifs

kuina sighs, leaning against the wall next to you. she plays with the wooden cigarette she always carries around, rolling it between her fingers. you put your own cigarette out on the ground, setting it aside. 

“how long have you been smoking?” she asks. 

“couple years,” you shrug. “gave me an excuse to leave work for a few minutes.” she hums. “when did you quit?” 

“a few years ago.” she moves to put the wood between her lips, holding it between her teeth as she continues. “i didn’t want to rely on drugs anymore.” 

you fall into a comfortable silence for a few minutes before she speaks again. “you know how to fight?” you glance over at her before nodding. 

“i got into street fights as a kid. had to learn quick. when did you?” 

kuina chuckles a little, moving to pull her knees up to her chest. “my dad runs a taekwondo studio. he made me learn.” 

“are you guys close?” 

she pauses, taking the cigarette back into her hand. she plays with it, avoiding eye contact. “no.” 

“sorry,” you whisper. 

she shakes her head, looking back up. “it’s alright.” the silence feels a little uncomfortable for a few seconds. the words you want to say feel like they’re suffocating you, cutting off your airflow from where they’re stuck in your throat.

you’re about to apologize again when kuina whispers. “he said no one would love me,” she pauses, letting out a shaky breath. “because i’m trans.” 

you glance over at her. she’s staring at the ground again, playing with her fingers. you hesitantly reach over to grab her hand, taking it into yours. she stares at your intertwined fingers but doesn’t look at you directly. “i would,” you whisper. “i do.” 

her eyes are teary when she looks up at you. you nervously look down, a little embarrassed. kuina jumps to wrap her arms around your shoulders, pulling you into a hug. you tentatively wrap your arms around her waist, holding her in your lap. “i love you too.” she whispers. you smile, tightening her grip.