#Tiptoe Through The Window; By The Window That Is Where I'll Be; Come Tiptoe Through The Tulips With Me (𝕃𝕚𝕡𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜)

[seospicybin]

THE FUCKBOY NEXT DOOR.

PART I

Bangchan x reader. (s,a)

Chapters: Part II / Part III

Synopsis: Having issues to break up with your boyfriend, you seek help from the boy next door and the number one fuckboy in the area, Chan. (10k words)

Author's note: I went through a nasty break up a few weeks ago and this is basically just me trying to cope by being delulu about having a fuckboy Chan as a neighbor. Enjoy x

It becomes a habit now that Chan doesn't know where he is when he wakes up in the morning.

The first thing that he'll do is retrace everything to last night. He was DJ-ing at a club, had a few drinks in between, met a girl who was eyeing him the whole night, had a few more drinks, there was a little touching and a quick makeout session in the dark alley and people can guess what happens after that

So this is where he is right now, the girl's bedroom and he can recall everything that happened last night except the girl's name.

"Fuck!" Chan mutters under his breath.

Judging from how bright the sun is outside, he knows he only has a little window to make his escape so he quickly gets off the bed as calmly as possible. He then tiptoes around to gather his clothes and put them on without making any noise.

However, he fails at it as the head from his belt hits the bed frame and the clanging of metal meets metal echoing in the room.

The girl steers on her sleep and rolls over to the side, she brushes her hair away from her face, catching Chan putting his belt on.

The plan to make a quick getaway has come to a failure but he keeps his cool, continuing to buckle his belt and then plants his hands on each side of his waist.

"Morning," He awkwardly says with a forced smile.

"Morning," the girl replies with a smile then props an elbow against the mattress, sending the duvet sliding down her body and exposing her bare chest to him.

Chan might have been a little drunk when he met her but damn, his fuckboy radar works well even under the influence of alcohol.

"You're leaving already?" She asks, flipping her hair to the back to expose more of those beautiful mounds to him.

Chan has to tell his pervy brain to focus actively, he looks away and picks up his jacket from the floor.

"I promised a friend to help him move out today," He lies, then pretends to check the time on his phone, "And I'm kind of late."

The girl nods then twirls her hair around her finger, "Well then... when can I see you again?"

"I hope soon," Chan says with his charming grin that disguises the insincerity in his answer.

The girl smiles at that which confirms that the grin works, "But seriously, I can't wait to see you again," she says.

"I'll call you," he says because that's what he can promise her at the moment but whether he'll do it or not is uncertain.

"But you don't have my numbers yet," she says with her eyebrows wrinkled in suspicion.

"No, I'm sure you already did," he says, convincing her by scrolling the contacts on his phone.

"Yup. I have your numbers already," he lies again, showing her a random contact on his phone for a quick second.

"But my name is Thalia," she says, cleverly catching the name on the contact.

"Yes, of course, you're Thalia," he says with utmost confidence and his ultimate weapon of a dimpled smile.

The girl seems alarmed though. She sits up on the bed and clutches the duvet close to her chest, "We're going to see each other again, right Chris?"

"Yes," he answers without a beat, and at this point, lying is as easy as breathing to him.

"Can I get a kiss before you leave?"

"Sure," he says, coming around the bed to give her a quick peck on the lips.

The girl smiles when he lets go and watches as he walks to the doorway, "I'll call you, Tanya."

"It's Thalia," she corrects him with an apparent displeasure on her face.

Chan shoves his phone into the pocket of his jeans and takes the time to properly bid her goodbye. Nothing a girl likes more than a sweet mouth and a little assurance, he'll give her exactly that.

"I'll see you soon, Thalia," Chan says with a smile.

"See you soon, Chris," and the girl naively believes him, if only she knew that this will be the last time they're seeing each other.

Yet again, Chan makes another successful getaway.

-

The warm weather of spring makes it a pleasant walk from the bus stop to his apartment building. He wants to stop somewhere for breakfast but his head feels heavy from the hangover, he just wants to go home as soon as possible, have a bowl of cereal then take an aspirin for the pounding headache.

In the lobby, he makes a quick stop to collect his mail and takes a quick check at it, sorting them out on the spot so he knows which ones he should bring upstairs.

From the corner of his eyes, Chan catches his neighbor, you with your boyfriend chatting by the elevator. He notices the gestures, the expression, and the whole interaction, it doesn't take a genius to know that something is going on there that the naked eyes can't see.

Chan throws the unnecessary mail into the trash bin nearby and walks to the elevator, hearing the little conversation going on between you and your boyfriend.

"...the waffles were delicious. We should have breakfast there again," the boyfriend says as he looks at you, "What do you think?"

"Yeah," you meekly answer while looking at the little screen that shows the floor the elevator is stopping in.

Chan tries to remain invisible but his eyes accidentally make contact with your boyfriend so he may as well make his presence known.

"Hi, neighbor," he greets, he knows your name but you seem to prefer to be called that way.

You do what you always do whenever you meet each other in the building, give him a quick judging look and a courteous smile.

"And hi neighbor's boyfriend," he greets your boyfriend next.

"Hi," your boyfriend greets back, "Chris, isn't it?"

"Yes and you are Lee," Chan responds.

"Right. So how was your Friday night?" Lee initiates a small talk.

"I believe it wasn't as good as yours," Chan playfully answers.

"Oh, we just stayed in and watched a movie, right baby?" Lee says, putting his arm around your shoulder.

All of a sudden, you take a step forward and say, "It's here."

The elevator doesn't chime until a moment later but you seem to be more than eager to get in. You turn around to give your boyfriend a quick hug.

"I'll try to leave early so we can have dinner together," Lee says with a quick kiss on the cheek.

"It's okay. Take your time," you say with a faint smile.

Chan quietly gets into the elevator and holds the door open for you, he tries not to look at what's happening in front of him not out of politeness but it's just painful to watch.

"I'll call you," Lee adds, catching your hand as you enter the elevator and kissing it.

"Okay," you say then wave your hand at him.

To help you get out of it, Chan releases his finger off the buttons and sends the doors sliding shut.

"Bye, baby," Lee says for the last time before the doors completely close.

It's just another awkward elevator ride with you and he'll usually try to endure it but after watching all that and trying not to say anything is hard, he can't help but impose.

He glances at you to check whether you're ready to hear about what he has to say but you always have the same stoic expression. Then it occurs to him that he has never seen you smile impolitely or out of joy, or even hear your laugh, but maybe after you hear what he's about to say, he'll get to see a different facial expression on you.

"Oh, man! That was painful to watch," he sighs as he keeps looking straight ahead at his reflection in the shiny furnace of the elevator.

There's no one else in the elevator so you're fully aware that he's talking to you but you don't respond until a while later.

There you go, with your judging look and stoic expression, looking at him as you say, "Excuse me?"

Chan doesn't want to sound rude but beating around the bush isn't his thing, he prefers to be straightforward. He knows it's all based on assumptions but he's pretty sure his judgements are pretty accurate.

He's going to just do it and lay out the facts, he turns to the side, then leans his back against the cold surface of the elevator.

"Your shoulder tightens when he called you baby and the fact you lied about the breakfast tells me that you didn't actually like his choice of restaurant," he pauses to let out a cynical chuckle, "the waffles weren't that good, I guess?"

When he wants to see a different facial expression on you, he doesn't mean seeing your angry one, but oh well, the damage has been done.

"Because I'm a good girlfriend that's why I let him choose the restaurant," you become defensive all of a sudden but that's an unconvincing answer.

"No, you let him choose out of pity," he simply remarks, "And just now, your nostrils flared when I pointed it out."

With all of these signs combined with his personal experiences, Chan narrows it out to one conclusion. He looks at you in the eyes and says, "You're about to break up with him, don't you?"

It looks like you've been slapped right on the face except that the slap doesn't come from someone, it's from the truth that comes out of Chan's unfiltered mouth and he instantly regrets it for meddling in in someone else's business.

"I'm sorry, but why are we having this conversation?" You ask, crossing your arms together in front of you.

"It's not like you're any better. You slept around, you're scared of commitment and now, sticking your nose at my business. You are the kind of person that I deeply despise!" You angrily say with your chest heaving.

It seems like you're saying all of those things about him out of anger because he sees right through you but now he knows why you always give him that judging look. He's the one who started it so yeah, okay, maybe he deserves that but that doesn't change the truth. The problem is what he said and your response, they're heading in the opposite direction.

"I think someone has her panties in a twist," Chan coyly responds.

"Look, there's nothing wrong with wanting to break up. That doesn't make you a bad person," he adds and decides to end the talk right there.

It gets quiet in this enclosed space and it's already suffocating as it is but how lucky that he has to patiently wait for the elevator to ride through three more floors to get out of here.

When the elevator finally dings open, Chan lets out a breath he doesn't know he's been holding but he's not the one in a hurry to exit both this space and the situation. He stays where he is and lets you out first.

When he thinks you don't have anything else to say, you stop right outside the elevator and look at him with a piercing gaze.

"Don't, for one second, think that you had any effect whatsoever on my panties!" You emphasize every word in anger, then storm off.

Know what? Maybe Chan should skip the bowl of cereal and take two aspirin instead. As for you, maybe you need to chill the fuck out.

-

Just because you've been neighbors with Chan for the past three years doesn't mean that you know each other on a personal level.

All you know about him is that he's a DJ which explains why there's always music playing in his apartment, he always wears a sleeveless top to showcase his muscles, and he always has a stupid grin on to show off the stupid dimples on his stupid face, an annoying Australian accent and from how many times you caught different girls taking a walk of shame out of his apartment, it's safe to say that he's the number one fuckboy in the area

So how dare he say all of that stuff in the elevator when he doesn't know anything about you at all? Moreover, what does a fuckboy like him know about relationships?

It shouldn't be hard to ignore because it's something you usually do but gosh, the memory of the conversation still vexed you a few days later.

Then it hits you that it bothers you so much because deep down, you know what he said is true. You've been wanting to break up with your boyfriend and hearing that comes from someone outside that relationship only solidified that thought.

There's nothing wrong with your boyfriend, Lee is nice, too nice even, and when you think about it, maybe that is the problem, he is too nice and that leads you to another problem, you don't know how to break up with him without hurting his feelings.

But you know who can help you with that? Someone who has a lot of experience in breaking up with people.

Oh, what a joy that you find the answer right across your door!

Before you get to ask for his help though, you're fully aware that there's another thing to do and there's no other way to do it but walk up to his apartment, knock on his door, and apologize.

As you're standing there in front of his apartment door, you're dreading it. All sorts of thoughts crossed your head like why did you have to be so riled up that time in the elevator? Why did you have to say that thing about the panties? Just why? Ugh!

Let's just get it over with, you mutter inside your head.

With hesitant hand, you knock on his door and then hold the urge to turn around and run back to your apartment. You let yourself take a step back as you wait for him to come for the door.

Do not open the door, do not open the door, you chant inside your head while tapping your foot against the floor. However, things are not always going the way you want.

The door swings inward and a second later, Chan appears with disheveled hair and he only has one arm in the sleeve of his t-shirt, then you spot a girl's shoes next to his feet.

Oh no, please don't say you're coming at the wrong time.

You reflexively take another step back but he grabs your forearm and then opens the door wider, showing you that there's a girl there.

"It's my neighbor, she's here to remind me about the tenant meeting," he says to her.

The girl looks at you rather suspiciously and crosses her arms together in front of her as she glares at Chan.

"No. Don't you dare try to get out of this, Chris!"

"But it's true. We have to leave now," Chan says, then gives you a look that tells you to lie along with him, "Right?"

Running a quick assessment of the situation, you're certain that Chan is trying to get himself out of it to avoid having a difficult conversation with the beautiful lady. You hate to be the accessory to his crime but if this means that it would help you earn his forgiveness...

"The pigeons!" You make up a lie on the spot.

"The pigeons are ruining our rooftop garden so we held this urgent tenant meeting," you add with what you hope is a convincing smile.

"Oh, those damn pigeons!" Chan heavily sighs with a phony expression.

The lie makes your throat dry and your cheeks hurt from forcing a smile, you have to keep it going as the lady considers whether to believe that the tenant meeting is true or not.

Chan grabs his jacket from the clothes hook and puts it on, "We'll continue this later, okay?" He says to her.

Without waiting for her answer, he gets out of the door and drags you with him to go to your apartment. Once both of you get inside, he immediately closes the door behind him and lets out a long sigh.

"Oh, wow!" He exclaims once he realizes that he's inside your apartment.

He allows himself further inside and leisurely walks around your apartment, checking your kitchen, trailing his fingers on your book collection on the shelf, and observing the potted plants lining up on the window sill.

He walks back to the middle of the room and takes another 360-degree look around the apartment, then nods in approval.

"So, this is what the inside of your apartment looks like," he says in a cryptic tone.

Not sure if he wants you to respond to that or if should respond at all. You choose to remain silent and only respond when his intentions are intelligible.

Chan then sits on the sofa, making himself comfortable, and looks at you, then at what you're holding in both hands.

"Is that for me?"

The jar of cookies you've been unknowingly holding in your hands is a token of apology and it is for him.

"Yes, it is for you," you say, handing it to him with both hands.

"I'm sorry about the other day," you sincerely apologize, but you know you have to let him know what you're apologizing for, "for what I've said to you. I'm terribly sorry."

"Well, since you're helping me with the uh... situation," he coyly says as he scratches his eyebrow, "consider us even."

See? That wasn't so hard. You feel bad for lying to the girl but at least, you've been forgiven.

"Thank you," you add with a smile.

Chan doesn't say anything else but opens the lid and takes a cookie out of the jar. He gets comfortable on the sofa, sitting slumped with his legs spreading wide, and then he takes a big bite of the cookie.

It doesn't take long for him to notice that you have something else to say to him other than an apology.

Before he gets to it, you force yourself to start speaking.

"So, Chris..." you call, then abruptly stop talking. You suddenly have a second thought about asking for his help.

"What's up?" He asks while chewing on his cookie.

It's at the tip of your tongue but your mouth feels like they're sewn shut. You clasp your hands together and muster up the courage to just blurt it out.

"Do you want something to have with the cookies?"

You swear you plan on asking for his help but somehow, your mouth saying a different thing.

"Milk would be nice," he answers.

"Milk. Yes, I have milk," you awkwardly say, slowly making your way to the kitchen like a walking dead.

You take a carton of milk from the fridge and while pouring it into a glass, you're scolding yourself for being so cowardly.

After taking a moment to take a deep breath and muster up the courage to ask, you walk back to the sofa with the glass of milk in hand. With a smile, you hand it to him.

"Thank you," he says, his eyes catching something in your eyes.

You immediately break the eye contact and take another step back, standing and watching him finish his third cookie then wash it down with a sip of milk.

"I hope you don't mind that I'm going to stay here until the girl leaves my apartment," he informs.

"Oh?" You meekly gasp.

"But I can leave if you're uncomfortable," he says as he sits straight on the sofa.

"No, it's fine," you shortly reply, "Take your time."

"Okay, thanks," he says, reclining back on the sofa and continues munching on the cookies.

You can't decide if he stays longer than you expected is a good thing or not. You use the opportunity to reconsider it and walk to the kitchen to get out of his sight.

"Do you need help or not?" You quietly ask yourself as you pour yourself a glass of water.

Why is it so hard? He's right there. All you need is to go and ask for his help.

The water sloshes out of the glass as you fill it too full and you reflexively back away to avoid getting water all over the front of your dress.

"Everything good there?" Chan asks in a slight panic.

That's it! Enough time has passed from overthinking it! You walk up to him and just do it.

"You're right," you blurt out, "I've been wanting to break up with my boyfriend."

Sensing that it turns serious, Chan slows down his chewing and puts away the cookie jar. You expect the I-told-you-so grin on his face but no, he looks saddened instead.

"Things aren't working out," you openly share with a sad sigh.

You take a seat on the ottoman facing the sofa and sadly sigh, "I've been wanting to break up with him for a week now but I just don't know how."

"How long you've been dating each other?"

"Three years," you answer.

"Wow," Chan lowly gasps in awe.

Three years is not a short time, he understands why you hesitate to break up and it isn't an easy decision either.

"I need your help," you hopelessly say, unintentionally becoming vulnerable in front of him.

"My help?"

"Help me how to break up with him," you further explain.

"Of all people, why me?" He asks in utter confusion.

It's hard to answer that without being rude, you decide to let him process the question until it leads him to the answer. After a while, he lets out a dry chuckle and nods, "Okay, yeah. Make sense."

Chan takes another minute to accept the fact that his help is needed because he knows how to break up with someone without feeling awful about it afterward.

"I guess you want to let him down gently?"

"Yes," you answer.

"Well..." he inflates his cheeks then lets the air out through his pursed lips, "You can break up with him through a text."

Which part of 'let him down gently' did he not understand? How is it a good idea to break up through a text? But okay, it's just one suggestion, you give him the benefit of the doubt for now. Who knows he'll come up with better suggestions.

"I'm sorry. No, I can't do that," you kindly refuse his suggestion.

"You can send it when he's sleeping," he adds.

Oh, God! He gives you an even worse suggestion instead of better ones. You know what? This is a bad idea and you regret asking for his help.

"I don't—" You stop yourself from talking and get up from your seat.

"I'll just check if the lady is still..." Your words trail off as you walk towards the door and check through the peephole first, then you get out of the door to check his apartment next.

"Hello? Excuse me?" You shout from the doorway but no one is answering you.

You take it the lady has left and walk back to your apartment to deliver the news to the rightful owner of the apartment.

"She already left," you tell him.

Chan lets out a sigh and closes the cookie jar, he finishes the milk to its last drop and then gets up from the sofa.

"Thank you for the cookies and the milk," he says with his signature grin.

"No worries," you reply, trying so hard to hide the disappointment in your voice.

Chan holds the cookie jar in one arm and takes a step closer to you, "if you need help on how to write breakup texts, I'm just across the hall," he says.

You don't respond to that but keep a smile on for him as to seem polite.

"And good luck!" He says with gentle pats on your shoulder.

The second he walks out the door, you collapse onto the sofa and dread it even more than before. Turns out, asking for his help is not helping at all.

The next day, you meet him as you collect your mail in the lobby and it's hard to ignore him when his mailbox is next to yours.

"G'day!" Chan greets you as he leans the side of his body against the wall while sorting his mail.

"Good day!" You respond and hurriedly walk toward the elevator. You push the button to summon it to the lobby and hope it comes soon enough for you to avoid talking to Chan.

Of course, things don't go as you want it. He comes just in time for the elevator about to arrive, he crumples a few letters in his hand into a ball and then tosses it into the trash bin.

"How did it go?" He asks.

"Pardon?" You nonchalantly respond.

Good thing that the elevator chimes open and you can pretend to forget about what he asked you a while ago. You get inside while clutching your mails in hands in front of you but it's not safe yet as you have to share the elevator ride with him.

"So... the break-up texts? Did you do it?" He asks again, going to the corner of the elevator and leaning his back against it.

"Chris, I think you can't just end a three-year relationship with a text," you put it as nicely as you can.

"Yeah, I reckon," he innocently answers.

It seems like Chan can't tell the difference between what is easy and what is right. It isn't a good idea in the first place to ask for help from someone like him who doesn't consider other people's feelings except his own.

"What are you going to do then?" He asks, shifting his weight on one leg.

Since his help is not helping at all, you have no answer to that yet. This should be something you have to figure out on your own in the first place.

"I'll figure it out," you not-very-convincingly answer.

Chan crosses his arms in front of him, making the muscles and veins on his arms more evident under the fluorescent light of the elevator.

"Lee seems like a nice guy," he remarks with a deep inhale of air.

Well, if you have to compare your boyfriend to Chan, then yes, Lee is a really nice guy. Lee excels in a lot of things, including how to treat a person with feelings.

"Yes," you settle with a simple answer.

"A drawn-out break up is only going to end in a big scene," he says, "Just saying."

Chan has a point. It's worse to prolong the pain for both you and Lee, you can't keep pretending that the relationship works and it's unfair that you keep Lee oblivious about all this.

"We can practice, you know," he offers.

"Practice?"

"On how you're going to break up with him," he explains.

He comes up with a better suggestion this time and is almost endearing even but again, he wouldn't know how a person with real feelings reacts to a break-up which makes you unsure if the practice would be any help.

The elevator is about to arrive anyway so you decide to skip on responding to his offer. Once it chimes, the doors part open and you take the first turn to get out with Chan getting off after you. You turn to the left to your apartment while he turns right. You take the key out of your pocket to unlock the door and push your way in while clutching your mail close to your chest.

"You know where to find me if you need help," Chan says just before you close the door to your apartment.

Hard pass, you answer in your head but you put on a smile for his kind offer, then close the door

-

Okay, you admit it. You were too haste when you said that you didn't need his help. You were doing fine for these past few days, you've been avoiding meeting your boyfriend to give you some more time to think of the best way to break the news to him until he calls you.

The phone rings and you just stare at it, considering whether to pick it up or not. If you pick it up, that means you have to lie to him and if you don't, it'll alert him that things are, in fact, not okay.

The latter seems like a better idea so you pick it up after taking a long, deep breath.

"Hi, baby. Am I calling you at the wrong time?"

Not entirely wrong but it would be nice if he didn't call you, you answer in your head.

"Yeah, sorry, I was in the bathroom," you lie.

"Coconut shrimp for dinner. What do you think?" he asks out of the blue.

"That sounds nice," you easily respond.

"I know you'll like it but, babe, do you mind getting us a bottle of wine on the way?

"I'm sorry?" You ask in confusion.

"For our dinner, remember?" he answers, "I'll cook tonight we'll be having dinner at mine."

You hardly paid attention to him because your mind was always elsewhere, you couldn't remember saying yes to the dinner but you did and it must be out of pity.

"No, of course, I remember, I'm just..." you rake your brain to think of something to say.

"I thought it was next week," you lie again with an awkward chuckle.

"You silly!" Lee says, "Aren't you glad that I called, huh?"

"So glad," you lie, again and again.

"I should start prepping the ingredients so they'll be ready when you get here," he says, his voice exuding enthusiasm.

"Okay."

"Don't forget the wine!"

"I won't."

"I can't wait to see you, baby," he sweetly says.

The lies are piling up so may as well add another one to the pile, "Me too."

"I love you, bye."

Don't think you can lie your answer to that, you gulp air, "Bye," you say to the phone, then quickly hang up.

Desperate times call for desperate measures and you don't know your desperate measure means knocking on your neighbor's door. Probably because you hate to admit that you need his help.

Not long after, Chan opens the door and his head pops out from the gap, "What's up?"

"My boyfriend just called and tonight, we'll be having dinner in his place," you blabber in panic.

It takes a second for him to process it then his face turns a little surprised, "What are we going to do then?" He asks in confusion.

You may be in dread but you catch the error in his question, "We? Now, you got your panties in a twist," you tell him.

"Shame on you!" He responds with a sly grin then opens the door wider and shows himself dressed in nothing but a white towel hanging low around his hips.

He puts one arm against the doorframe and leans close to you as he says, "Cause I'm not wearing any panties right now."

You should have noticed it from his wet hair and the beads of water rolling down his neck, and now that you're seeing the whole of it, your eyes immediately following where the beads of water going, they're going down the outline of his abs and eventually, to where they're all gathered as his pelvic bones leading down to one way: down south.

However, your instinctive reaction goes against what you're actually feeling inside.

"Ugh!" You groan and turn to the side, "Put some clothes on and I'll see you at my place!"

Without waiting for his answer, you rush back to your apartment and close the door behind you as fast as possible, then you rest your back against it.

The images of his naked body flashing through your head, his glistening wet pale skin, and how some parts of his body are blotchy red around the neck and chest. You get flustered all of a sudden, you immediately press the back of your hand to your cheek and you can feel them heating.

"Get it together!" You scold yourself.

After waiting for almost fifteen minutes, Chan finally comes knocking on your door like it's a musical instrument.

"Are you dressed?" You ask with your hand on the doorknob.

"Hardly," he jokes.

You peek through the peephole and see that he's already dressed to what you can say is his usual attire of dark short pants with a matching sleeveless top, showing off his bulging biceps. You open the door to let him in and he coyly walks in, treating your place like it's his own, sitting on your sofa with his legs spreading wide.

"Okay, so, why am I here?"

You stand in front of him with your hands clasped in front of you, "I've been lying to him the whole phone call and honestly, I've been doing it since the moment I decided that I want to break up with him, and I... I don't think I can lie to him again."

It's easy to admit your mistakes to him because he barely knows you and his opinions about you won't matter that much to you.

"I need to do it tonight," you hopelessly say.

"I take it you need my help to practice your break-up speech?"

You hate that he guesses it right but it's also convenient that you don't have to beat around the bush to ask for it. But first, you try to explain the situation as much as possible so he has ideas on what you're facing here.

"Lee is a man of many emotions and I'm not exaggerating when I say he'll likely cry," you inform.

Chan's forehead wrinkles as he processes this piece of information then stifles a nod. It seems like he still has no idea what you want him to do about it.

"I think it's less painful if you acknowledge the dumpee feelings," you blatantly explain.

"Okay, I got you. Let's practice!' He says, sitting up straighter on the sofa and then putting his hands on his knees.

It's just a practice but your anxiety takes over you not just mentally but also physically as your palms get sweaty. You wipe them down your jeans and take a breath.

"Lee," you call him by your boyfriend's name, and even though it's weird that you're roleplaying, you continue, "I want to break up with you."

Chan looks at you and gets quiet for a moment, "Wow. I'm in utter shock and it makes me very sad to hear that," he says with a rather serious tone.

Not the kind of reaction Lee would likely pull off but that will do if you decide to continue with it.

"I'm fully aware that this is so sudden but I've been thinking hard about it for some time and I think this is a decision that I should take," you say and you know it's a practice but you feel something caught in your throat.

"I'm sad and I need time to process it, but I'll be okay," he calmly says.

Chan gets the tone right but you believe breaking up wouldn't be this easy in real life, especially when there are real feelings to protect. To be honest, you're not ready to face the truth that you may hurt those feelings tonight.

"I think that went very well," Chan says, returning to his default settings.

"Yeah, I think that's it," you meekly say.

The worries and sadness are drawn on your face that Chan can easily see through your veiled expression, "If Lee is as nice as you said he is, then you shouldn't worry much," he says.

He waits until your eyes meet his to continue, "He may get surprised or shocked even, but he'll come around and respect your decision."

You can't believe that those words are coming out of his mouth or that he even tries to comfort you, but you appreciate it. Maybe his heart is still there, he just doesn't let it control him most of the time.

He gets up from the sofa and walks up to you, he takes your hands, ignoring how cold and sweaty they feel in his, "You got this," he assures you.

"Thank you, Chris," you sincerely say with a sad smile.

It is time to stop torturing both you and Lee with lies and forcing yourself to believe that the love is still there. It's time to accept the truth that if you can fall in love, you can also fall out of love.

-

It's a surprise that Chan worries about things that aren't his business. He's been playing some music to distract him from his head but he keeps the volume low because he doesn't want to miss hearing the sound of the elevator that will tell him any signs that you're back from the dinner.

Eventually, he tires himself out from worrying and falls asleep on the sofa. He startles always close to midnight after hearing the knocking on his doors.

Half disoriented, he trudges his way to open the door and finds you there, surprisingly, looking nice in a white cotton dress and your eyes dry.

But from the way you let yourself into his apartment, forgetting your impeccable manners and walking with shoulders slumped and carrying your shoes in your hands, he takes it that you did it.

"So... how did it go?" He carefully asks, following you as you're making your way to the sofa and then sitting on it.

You let a heavy sigh and your shoulders slumped even more, "At least, there's no crying," you answer with a sad smile.

Chan is unsure of how to react to that, is that a good thing or a bad thing? He just stands there with his arms crossed on his chest, thinking out loud.

"And even though it was ending... it was incredibly meaningful to me and I'm going to miss him," you say with your lips trembling.

Oh, no, Chan knows when a girl is about to cry, he quickly finds a remedy to it, one that he knows always works wonders for him. He runs to the kitchen and brings a bottle out of his alcohol stash, then hands it to you.

"Let's have a drink!" He says, realizing that he forgot the glass.

"Wait another second, I'll get the glass," he says, sprinting to retrieve two glasses from his kitchen cabinet.

When he returns, he sees that you're chugging the alcohol straight from the bottle. You gasp and then wince from the bitter aftertaste of it.

"Okay, straight from the bottle it is," he says, popping onto the sofa next to you.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and then hand the bottle to him in which he wastes not another second to take a sip of it.

"The thing is... I really care about him but he wanted to get married, and I'm just not ready for that," you share with your eyes blank and looking at the void.

You take a deep breath but it seems like it only sends your heart sinking deeper and deeper, and making it harder for you to breathe.

"And if I'm not ready with a guy as great as him then what if I'm never ready?" You say, turning your head his way with your eyes glassy, pooling with tears.

"What if that was it..." you lift your shoulders then drop them as you let out a low sigh, "my one chance at love?"

The tears start streaming down your face like a bursting dam and Chan knows he can't do anything about it but let them out.

Hearing your words makes him think about what his idea of love is. He used to think that it was something he could get whenever he wanted it but now he knows that he's wrong, because that's just a short-lived infatuation, just some sort of meaningless connection.

From you, he learns that love is a privilege that not everyone can experience.

"What if I never get a second chance?" You ask him the question that he doesn't know the answer to.

"I don't know. I'm just sad," your voice cracks, then you break into tears.

Chan is quick to catch you into his arms and offers you his embrace. He knows he can't do anything about this sadness but he can try to soothe the pain, he's placing gentle rubs on your back as you cry into his chest.

The cry is resounding in this space, echoing the sadness back to you and it makes him inexplicably sad too, and he gets the urge to make it stop.

"It's going to be alright," he murmurs at the top of your head.

You look up with your eyes wet and red with tears caught in your lashes, "Is it?" You croak.

He doesn't know when but he knows for sure that time heals everything.

"It will be," he answers with a gentle caress of his knuckle on your wet cheek, "eventually."

Your eyes tell some more assurance for him and he doesn't know what drives him to do it, but he leans in, then kisses you.

To his surprise, you kiss him back and he knows you're doing it because you seek his comfort and he wants to give you exactly that. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, giving you that closeness you seek. He kisses you ever so softly because he knows he's kissing a broken heart and he wants to mend it. He can taste your sadness and the bitterness of it, and also the relief underlying all of it. As he kisses you, he lets his heart open just enough to take some of that sadness away from yours.

As the kiss deepens, the sadness withers, and something else emerges. Chan loses in it for a bit until he realizes what you're trying to do with your hand that reaches for the front of his jeans.

He abruptly detaches his lips from yours and shakes his head, "No, we can't do this," he says.

As much as he fancies you enough to have sex with you, he knows better not to do it when you're not in your right mind and your judgments are clouded with sadness. The last thing he wants is you waking up in the morning full of regrets.

"I want this, Chris," you croak.

"No, we can't," he adamantly says and takes your hand away from him.

"You're sad. You do want this," he says in an effort to put some sense into you.

You roughly crumple the front of his t-shirt and pull him close, "I want– No, I need this, Chris," you say to him with your eyes dark like two bottomless pits.

"Please?" You plead as a tear rolls down from the corner of your eye.

This is the most hopeless he ever heard of you and it breaks his heart. You said it yourself, you need this and he knows what you mean by that. You need the distraction, you need him to take this pain away even just for a fleeting moment, moreover, he can't break what's already broken.

He takes your hand off of his clothes and puts it in his, he leans in until his forehead is pressed against yours.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asks once again.

"Yes," you answer without a beat.

That's all Chan needed to hear, he inhales air and puts an inch between your faces. He then tenderly holds your face with both hands and looks at you, unsure where to start but maybe, he can start by making those tears coming out of your eyes.

Chan dabs the tears pooling in the corner of your eyes with his knuckle and without the slightest of hesitancy, he places a gentle kiss on each of your closed eyelids and before you can open them, he captures your lips in a kiss.

Sex is not something new to him but Chan knows that this time is not about physical fulfillment, but a way to offer comfort and hopefully, to also mend your broken heart.

He takes his time to strip away every piece of clothing on you until you're bare, lying on the bed with nothing but sadness that fills your heart.

He touches you with utmost gentleness, using just his fingertips to feel the softness of your skin and you're so pliant, sensitive to his touch.

To make it fair, Chan takes his clothes off as well before joining you on the bed, caging you in between his arms and hovering only inches away above you.

"Touch me," he says to you, taking your hand and placing it on his shoulder.

He then glides your hand down his neck and chest, he makes you feel every inch of his pale skin with him. However, when he looks at you, your eyes remain on his.

"You feel so warm, Chris," you lowly mutter.

He brings your hand close to his mouth and kisses it, then crashes his lips on yours.

The gap between your bodies becomes non-existent as you keep pulling him close, he relents by lowering himself on top of you and props an elbow against the mattress to not put his whole weight on you.

Lips locked, hands around each other, bodies pressed together and the temperature keeps on rising in the room. Chan makes you feel every part of his lips brushing and gliding over yours. He skillfully parts your mouth open with his tongue so he can kiss you deep and hard, yet slow until you run out of breath.

At the same time, his hand makes its way down until his fingers land on your delicate flesh. He touches it tenderly, running his fingers between the folds, and drags them upward to rub on your bundle of nerves.

"Ah..." you moan against his lips as you curve your hand around his neck and pull him incredibly closer.

Judging from it, he knows he's doing it right and he should continue, he applies gentle pressures on your clit, making you drenched and that way, he can slowly put a digit inside of you.

You let go of his kiss to let out a moan and your head falls onto the pillow as he puts another digit into you, two fingers pumping in and out of you.

Chan intently watches as your face contorted along to the pleasure, how your jaws slack open and breathless moans keep spilling out of your parted mouth.

The way you clench around his fingers makes him impatient to feel you and how tight you feel around him, and the noises you make oh, they're his new favorite tune that he wants to keep listening to until his eardrums burst.

He glances down as he pulls his fingers out of you and finds them thickly coated with your essence, it doesn't stop him from shoving them into his mouth and lick them clean.

Chan holds you by the chin to keep you still as he kisses you, "Give me a second to get a condom, yeah?" He says to you and you nod in answer.

He makes his to the bathroom and pulls the drawer open to take a condom. To save time, he decides to put it on right away, he tears through the foil packet with his teeth and rolls the rubber down his hard length.

On the way out, he catches his reflection in the mirror and gets reminded that this is not about him. Tonight, it's all about you.

He returns to the bedroom, finding you still lying in bed naked and hugging yourself. He climbs onto the bed and lowers himself on you, letting you absorb his body heat to warm you.

Craving for another taste of it, he goes down and plants his mouth on your cunt next, tasting you right on his tongue.

You're squirming as his tongue laps over your wetness, drinking in on your essence and then using it to circle on your clit.

He's not the only one getting impatient and asking more of it, you both want it and there's no wasting time anymore. Just before he takes it to the next part, he places a long, tender kiss on your clit and immediately brings his mouth to yours again so you can taste yourself on him.

"I'm going in, mmh?" He says as he endearingly brushes your hair away from your face.

You hold on to his shoulder as he settles himself between your legs, aligning his cock with your entrance but before that, he rubs his length between your folds, lubricating it with your essence.

Your hands fly to your chest, hugging yourself again as you lowly moan to his hard length rubbing over your clit and then, pushing its way into you.

"Goodness fu—" he can't even finish his sentence without breaking into a satisfied groan.

It's just the tip but he can already feel how tight you are around him, he's scared yet excited to push more of him into you. He reorganizes his breathing and rests his hand on your abdomen to do it.

Chan looks down to check and he still has a little more of him that needs to be inside you, he sharply inhales air through his nostrils and pushes the remaining length in one quick push.

"Oh..." you breathlessly moan as you're squeezing on your breasts.

Chan allows himself to take a moment to adjust himself to being inside you and you seem to also need time to adjust to his size because you feel so incredibly tight around him. It makes him wonder how this little thing can take him so well.

He takes your hands away from your chest and puts them around his shoulders, that way he can put his body on top of you, lips locked with yours again in no time as you wrap your legs around his waist, sending him deeper inside you.

As he takes a breath in between kisses, you hold his face and look at him with a different kind of sadness in your eyes which only reminds him that his initial plan is to make it go away.

He starts thrusting into you, wanting to fuck this sadness out of you. He wants to make you think of nothing but how his cock fills you full and how good he is fucking you right now, and soon, he's going to make you feel nothing but immense pleasure.

"Ah... ah... ah..." you moan for every thrust going into you and the skin-slapping sounds echo along with it in the room.

Chan plants his mouth on your breasts to contain his grunts and groans while keeping the steady motion of his hips pulsating against you.

A hand reaches for his chin and forces him to look at you, instantly engaged in eye contact with you. He continues thrusting into you with eyes looking deep into you, they're no longer looking like bottomless pits, they look like deep oases that he wants to dive into.

The next thing he knows, Chan finds himself deep in you, not just physically but also connected with you in a way that he's never experienced with anyone else until now. He feels barer than he already is and instead of shutting himself off, he embraces it and lets you in.

Soon enough, he finds himself lost in it and fully connects himself to you in a way that lets him know how it feels to love without fears or insecurities holding him back, without worrying if it's being reciprocated or not, to love wholly and completely.

"Oh," you let out a broken moan and that's when he notices that you break into tears again.

Chan abruptly stops moving, afraid that something he does is hurting you without realizing it.

"No, keep going, keep going," you tell him with your voice hoarse.

He needs to make sure to continue, he cups your jaw and asks, "Are you okay?"

"Yes, please, keep going, please," You repeatedly nod and plead with your teary eyes.

He wants you to stop crying, he wants you to stop thinking about what hurts you and start to see him as he tries to take this pain away from you. His body picks up the pace, going impossibly fast and also taking himself close to his high.

Your eyes are screwed shut, your breath is ragged and your hands are gripping onto his shoulders, overwhelmed by the pleasure that he brought on you.

The moment he's sure that you already come to your climax, he allows himself to let go and uses all of his strength to give you a few more thrusts until there's nothing left in him but waves of pleasure that wash over him.

"Chris..." you softly call and then pull him for a chaste kiss on his lips, "Thank you."

Chan's face hovers only inches above you as he softly gazes into your eyes, you look so fragile and open like a wound and he's just glad that he can make your heartache gone even just for a while.

"Shh..." he stops you from talking by running his thumb over your lips and then kisses you with his heart wide open. He lets this beautiful feeling pour out of him and into you.

"No, thank you," he mutters his gratitude between kisses.

Thanks to you, he experiences something he's never felt before with someone else, something new, something pure and real, something that feels a lot like love.

When he wakes up in the morning and finds you're not there, it hits him that maybe it is love but Chan is not ready to admit it yet.

-

A week passes and Chan hasn't seen you ever since that night.

He can't tell if you're avoiding him or needing the space and time to piece yourself back from the break-up, he hopes it's the latter. Gosh! Let him be right.

Regardless of what happened, he can live with the fact that you despise him but it would be sad to know if you choose to go down the path of believing that you're not going to find love again.

Chan just needs to know if you're doing okay, that's what matters for now.

Fortunately, the two of you have been neighbors for quite a long time to learn your routine and knockabouts. He knows what you like to do on a Saturday morning, he goes to the lobby and chats with the concierge as he waits.

At the first sight of you entering the apartment building, his heart palpation, and in all honesty, he's just so happy to finally see you after a while.

Are you not seeing him there? Or you're just pretending which only confirms his initial thought that you've been, in fact, avoiding him.

You're walking through the lobby carrying a bag of groceries in your arm, you skip checking on the mailbox and go straight to the elevator. It just happens that the elevator is vacant and the doors slide open after you push the button.

Chan decides to take the risk, sprinting to get into the elevator before the doors close. You already despise him so a little more hate shouldn't be a problem to him.

"Morning, sunshine," He greets you with his dimpled grin.

"Good morning," you politely reply without looking at him.

Things are going back to normal and he should be glad, right? At least, you're back to your usual settings of looking stoic and acting polite, and the best thing about it is you're still talking to him.

"I should learn to avoid people from you. You're good at it," he pushes it a bit just to see if he can crack through this facade.

"Excuse me?" Your head turns his way and with your eyes widen, "I have not been avoiding anyone."

Chan holds the urge to smile for successfully getting your attention and rests his back against the cold, metal furnace of the elevator, "Are you sure?"

"Well, we're seeing each other now," you tell him.

"That's because I know you like to go to the farmer's market every Saturday morning," he says at the same time, admitting that he knows about your routine.

You slowly turn your body facing him and squint your eyes at him, "You've been keeping tabs on me?"

"It's my favorite pastime activity," he shamelessly answers then pokes his cheek with his tongue.

"It's better than watching porn," he playfully adds, something that he knows will annoy you the right way.

"Ugh!" You groan as you look straight ahead.

Oddly enough, that's what he misses the most about it, interacting with you and seeing your reaction to his antics, but you, especially.

"Don't be so uptight," he coyly says.

He takes a step closer to you and puts his hand on the handlebar, "it's not like we haven't slept together or anything."

You let out a scoff and hoist the strap of your grocery bag higher on your shoulder, "I'm shocked you even remember," you say.

You turn your head next and your eyes immediately lock in a gaze with him, "I figure I'm just a low notch on a very long bedpost," you add.

"Are you calling me a man whore?" Chan says, feeling offended.

You take a step closer to him and daringly stare back into his eyes, "I didn't call you a man," you answer with a sly smirk.

There's a few seconds of silence until Chan realizes what you just said to him but you know what? He's going to give it to you, for now.

He looks at you and smiles, "Touche!"

You both look at each other and at the same time, burst into laughter, and it keeps going until the hilarity subsides with each passing second.

Is this real? Did you just poke fun at him with a beautiful smile on your face? Did you really laugh and the sound of not only echoing in this enclosed space but also in the back of his mind? Did he just see a different facial expression on you? Either way, he likes it and he likes how it makes him feel.

The elevator chimes open and soon, the doors part open. He lets you get off first and then takes his turn after, he gets a little disappointed as you both are going in the opposite direction.

"Hey, Chris," you call as he's only a couple of steps away from the door of his apartment.

His heart palpation again but he keeps his calm and then slowly, turns on his feet to face you, "Yes?"

"I'm cooking curry for dinner and I know it'll be not as good as the one you always ordered but you can come and..." your hand is fiddling with the strap of your grocery bag as you speak but your eyes remain steady on him, "see if it suits your taste."

And did you just invite him for dinner? Him, the neighbor you despise so much?

Chan acts coy and scratches the back of his head, he holds the urge to answer right away. He has a reputation to uphold and he reckons, you have to at least wait a minute for his answer.

"Yeah, okay, let's see," he nonchalantly answers but his smile tells otherwise.

You crack a laugh and nod, walking to your door with the keys jangling as you're unlocking it.

Chan thinks that's the end of it until you call his name again, his heart leaps this time and he almost flies his way to you.

"Yeah?"

"Don't worry, I'm not going to ask you what are we," you say with a smile then get inside of your apartment.

That's funny because, after that night, he was hoping that you would ask him that as most girls do but that's where he is wrong, you're not most girls, you are his neighbor whom Chan is secretly in love with.

-

Support my works by reblog, comment or consider to tip me on my ko-fi!

@svintsandghosts @abiaswreck @ppiri-bahng @drhsthl @idkluvutellme @biribarabiribbaem @skz-streamer @biancaness @hanjisunginc @elizalabs3 @laylasbunbunny @kpopformylife @caitlyn98s @hann1bee @mamieishere @is2cb97 @marvelous-llama @bluenights1899 @sherryblossom @toplinehyunjin @hanjisbeloved @yourmomscuntis2tighy @sunnyseungup @skz4lifer @stellasays45 @severeanxietyissues @avyskai @imseungminsgf @silentreadersthings @army-stay-noel @rylea08 @simeonswhore @jebetwo @yubinism @devilsmatches @septicrebel @rairacha @cutiespaghetti @ven-fic-recs @hyunjiinnnn @lostgirlinthewoodss @schniti-is-in-the-house @jisunglyricist @9900z

[kinascum]

TAG! - M. STURNIOLO

SYNOPSIS: What happens when your brother's best friend pushes your boundaries in a thrilling encounter?

CONTENTS: nls!reader, explicit sexual content, strong language, power dynamics, degradation, chasing? primal? idk, no actual piv, oral (male), semi-public, humiliation.

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

pt2 (chris)

You sit around the kitchen table of the cozy cabin, the glow of the moonlight spilling in through the windows, casting shadows across the well-worn Monopoly board. The laughter and banter of the evening's game slowly die down as the last few hotel properties are snatched up, and the bank is declared bankrupt. Your brother Nate, and his best friends, grin at each other, the competitive spirit still lingering in the air. It's late, and the yawns start to take over, signaling the end of the night.

The cabin's wooden floorboards creak as everyone heads to their designated sleeping areas. The fireplace crackles, casting a warm, flickering light across the room. You settle into your bed, but the excitement of the day keeps sleep at bay. The rustling of blankets and muffled snores from your brother's room reminds you that you're not the only one who remains restless.

The whispers of the night beckon you and you find yourself tiptoeing to the bedroom door. You peek into the hallway, noticing a sliver of light seeping out from under Matt's door. Curiosity piqued, you ease the door open to find him sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless, staring at the floor. "Can't sleep either?" he asks, looking up and catching your gaze.

"Yeah, it's like my brain won't shut up," you admit, stepping into the room. "Wanna go outside for some fresh air?"

Matt nods, a glint in his eye. "How about we play a game to pass the time?"

Intrigued, you follow him out into the cool night, the crunch of gravel underfoot. The moon casts a silver path down to the lake, where the water laps gently against the shore. The air is alive with the scent of pine and the distant sound of an owl's hoot.

"Okay, I'll chase you," he says with a smirk, "and if I catch you, I win."

You laugh, thinking it's just a way to burn off some energy. "What do I get if I win?"

"We'll see," he teases, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Ready or not, here I come!"

And with that, he's off, his sneakers pounding the ground as he sprints towards you. You squeal, the thrill of the chase igniting your senses. As you dart away from him, the night air feels alive with electricity, your heart pounding in your chest. This is the kind of thrill you live for, the kind that makes you feel alive.

The game starts innocently enough, the two of you weg through the trees, laughing and panting. But as the minutes tick by, the adrenaline turns into something else. Something you've felt simmering between you for a while now, something you've been too scared to acknowledge. The wind carries the scent of him, a tantalizing mix of aftershave and pure masculine energy. Your skin tingles with anticipation, and you start to feel the heat building deep within you.

Matt's breath is hot on your neck as he catches up, his strong hands grabbing you around the waist. You gasp, feeling his solid body pressed against yours, the game turning into something much more primal. You can feel the heat of his body overcome yours, and it sends a shockwave through your core. This isn't just a game anymore; it's a dance of desire that you're both eager to explore.

He whispers in your ear, his voice thick with lust, "I win."

With a firm grip, he spins you around and pushes you to your knees. You look up at him, a mix of fear and excitement swirling in your eyes. He's serious. The gravity of the moment hits you like a ton of bricks, but you don't resist. You want this. You've wanted this for a long time.

He unbuckles his belt, the metal clinking in the stillness of the night, and unzips his pants, pulling out his hard cock. "You know how this goes," he murmurs, stroking himself, watching you with a hungry gaze. "You're gonna let me use that pretty little throat?"

Your heart races as you lean in, your mouth watering despite the fear. You wrap your lips around him, and he groans, his hand tangling in your hair. He's not gentle, pushing deeper into your mouth, his grip tightening with every moan. The taste of him fills your senses, a mix of salt and earth, and you can't help but feel a twinge of excitement. This isn't how you thought this night would go, but the way he's looking at you, the way he's holding you, it's like he's claiming you, and it turns you on more than you ever thought possible.

You try to keep up, but he's too much for you. You gag, and he laughs, a dark sound that sends shivers down your spine. "Look at you," he says, "such a good little slut, take it." Spit trails down your chin, and your eyes water, but you don't stop. You can't. The thrill of it all is too intense.

"I bet Nate never knew what a whore you are," he murmurs, his voice low aging. "Letting me fuck your mouth out here like some cheap hooker." His words are like a slap in the face, but they only serve to make you wetter. Your eyes narrow as your brows chisel in, but you're his, and you're letting him do this to you. It's a power play, and you're both acutely aware of it.

"Oh, you're mad?" He laughs. The sound of branches underfoot in the distance makes your heart leap. "Better hurry up," he says, his eyes glinting with excitement, "or Chris might find you like this and want a taste" The thought sends a jolt of fear and arousal through you. "Oh, but you'd love that, being used by both your brother's best friends?" Your mind races. What would Nate think if he found you like this? What would Nick do? The possibility of getting caught only adds to the thrill.

Matt's hand moves to your chin, holding it in a firm grip as he fucks your mouth harder, faster. "Take it, baby," he growls, his hips bucking against your face. "You like it, huh?" You nod, unable to speak with his cock lodged in your throat, you mumble around his shaft. You do love it. The degradation, the power he has over you in this moment, it's intoxicating.

Finally, with a grunt, he pulls out, coming all over your face and chest. You collapse back onto the ground, gasping for air, your heart racing and your eyes like storms behind shed tears. He wipes his dick off your shirt, smiling down at you like he's just conquered the world. "You've always been mine, don’t get mad now," he says, his voice full of satisfaction. He leans down, his hand on your jaw suddenly pulls away and the sing on your face is accompanied by the hot spit thrown at you. "Mine to use whenever I want."

The night air is thick with the scent of sex and sweat, and you can't help but feel a little bit used. But you don't care. You're his, and that's all that matters. The tension between you is palpable, the line between friendship and something darker is now irrevocably blurred. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, tasting him on your lips, and wonder if this is the start of something new.

As you both catch your breath, the sound of footsteps grows louder. Panic flares in your chest. "we have to get back." You stumble to your feet, your legs wobbly from the intense experience. Matt chuckles, tucking himself back into his pants.

Together, you sneak back towards the cabin, your heart pounding in your ears. As you enter the cabin, you see the light from Nate's room is now off. Did he hear you? Did he know what was happening outside?

You slip into your bed, your body still humming with desire, your mind racing with thoughts of what's to come. The lines between friendship and lust have been crossed, and there's no going back.

tags! @sturnstvs @gxldenlush @immattsslut @slut4chriss @stasiesturn @jetaimevous @solarsturniolo @watercolorskyy @thedarkqueenofavalon @meowira @secretagentspy @shadowthesim @baileysturns

love, paz<3

[tadpolesonalgae]

I'd assume it was unwanted?

Azriel x reader

a/n: something short, because I've been tired lately (a total of 130 hours worked over a fortnight)

warnings: like, the tiniest smidge of angst; some Azriel fluff ;)

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

"So, how has it been going?"

Your brows furrow slightly, glancing at him confusedly, before a bright grin explodes across your mouth, bringing a twinkle to your mate's eyes. "Someone took one!!" You exclaim, jumping up and down, lightly patting your hands together as that warm and bubbly feeling swooshes through your body, heart soaring with pride. "I checked the basket this morning and the beetle scarf had been taken!"

Azriel smiles, one of those smiles you know he can't help, wrapping his arms around you tight. You allow him to for a few moments, before wriggling free and shoving your hand into your pocket, fishing about for a bit before pulling free a folded note. Your eyes are still bright and crinkled at the edges as you show it to him.

Winter will be a little easier now.

Thank you for the scarf.

Azriel's features soften as his eyes run across the handwritten note, pulling you close once more, lips grazing the crown of your head. You squeeze him back, inhaling the warm scent of him, pulling him down in lungfuls and trying to keep from jumping with joy.

You pull away firmly, a big smile on your face as you pluck the note from his fingers. "I'm going to work on the next one," you tell him, softly, "Can you handle dinner? I want to try and finish this one off tonight."

"As long as you remember to get up and stretch," Azriel returns, equally hushed, pressing a kiss to your brow. "And you have to promise to pay attention to me over supper. I know you enjoy knitting but I miss you sometimes, okay?"

You smile, pressing into his warmth. "I will," you whisper, pushing up onto your tiptoes to kiss his soft mouth, nipping once at his lower lip before pulling away. Azriel chuckles, squeezing your waist before releasing you, watching fondly as you patter away toward the living room where you'll take up your knitting needles and nestle yourself into the indentation he's made in one of the armchairs a distance from the fireplace.

He's happy you've found something to focus yourself on, at least for a little while.

He knows how loud your mind can get, when not preoccupied.

--------

"Have you stretched even once today?"

You start, blinking up from your knitting needles, apparently having not heard him enter.

He sighs, guessing the answer will not be what he's hoping for.

"Come on," Azriel encourages, moving over to where you're seated, holding out his palms. "We're going for a walk. Up you get."

You pull a face. "I just need to do a few more rows...? Then I'll be done...!"

Azriel raises a brow, "How many more?" Your lips purse, averting your eyes, huddling deeper into the armchair. The edges of his mouth pull upwards, shaking his head. "Come on, you know you need to stretch. Have you been doing this all day?"

"But I want to get as many done as possible," you grumble, getting to your feet and carefully setting aside your knitting. "It's coming up for winter, and I feel like I'll be better able to speak with other people if I have this going for me..."

"And taking a few hours a day to stretch and keep your blood flowing won't hinder that," Azriel assures, voice lowered as his hands wrap themselves cosily around your waist. "So come out with me, and keep yourself in good health."

You roll your eyes, but hurry to get ready. You can check the community basket outside your house on the way out. See if anymore notes have appeared since the first one from a week ago.

--------

Frost has begun swirling itself onto leaves in the mornings, etching its pretty patterns into the window panes, setting the puddles of water that gather in the uneven pathways that join the streets.

You know things have been difficult in this town, and people are working hard to rebuilt what was lost. Helping each other out when they can, coming together to share joy, keeping each other afloat. More than ever it's needed, as winter looms ahead.

How badly you want to be a part of that community.

--------

The notes have been dwindling, but that's to be expected as winter melts into spring, and spring into summer. They're always a joy to receive, and you keep them in a small box by your bedside, a separate, smaller compartment for the notes left by Cassian, who tried to alter his handwriting so you wouldn't know it was him. You appreciate the effort, and you know he means well - you'd undoubtedly do the same if it was any of the others; it's important to support friends and family - but it would be nice to hear from other people in the community you're trying to integrate yourself into.

People aren't in need of jumpers and scarves as much in the warmer months, but still, you want to have enough in when the frost returns. You know how much you enjoy the fresh mince pies the baker sometimes has out at the end of a day - Azriel doesn't enjoy sugar as much as you, so you'll end up taking one and offering him a bite, which he usually accepts. And you know how happy the baker is whenever you thank her for sharing the ones she hasn't managed to sell that day, so they aren't wasted.

At the new year, Azriel had mentioned a small gathering that took place in the local temple on the seventh day of the week. A day for crafts and creation, for anyone to join.

At first you'd been nervous to attend, but it had been that group that had suggested placing a box, pad, and pencil out for anyone who might want to leave a note. Some people might be too anxious otherwise, one had reasoned, and you'd noticed a little change at first, but sure enough after a while the scarves would continue disappearing without a note left behind for you to know if they'd been a help or not.

It's become a routine by this point: knitting in the afternoons and evenings, taking a walk around the village with Azriel, then returning back to eat, and promptly falling into bed, lights out. And in the evenings when Azriel is feeling more relaxed, he'll accompany you in the living room, signing papers and jotting down notes in his diary while you keep tucked to your armchair, needles clicking occasionally as you continue winding the yarn into warm, colourful patterns.

You sever the yarn, tying off that final row, and slowly get to your feet, knees making a clicking noise as you stiffly make your way across the room to Azriel, holding out the child-sized blanket you've finally completed after a fortnight of work. Your eyes are drooping, knuckles stiff and achey, but you hold it up for him to look at, smiling brightly. "What do you think?"

Azriel sets his work aside, that familiar smile curving his soft mouth as he takes a look at the patterns, the even spread of the stitches, tension carefully measured. All the hours of work put into creation. "It's lovely," he murmurs, slowly making his way down the blanket, taking his time with each pattern, occasionally turning the knit over to have a look at the flip side. "You're sure you want to give this one up? It's so beautiful."

You laugh, "what would either of us need it for? It's far too small." You seat yourself on the arm of his chair, hand settling on his shoulder. "I'll miss it a little, though." You whisper, leaning into him as you look at the blanket. "I've never tried doing so many patterns in one piece. Usually scarves I just repeat the same ones - this is the first time I've done so many alternations."

"You think it's one of your best?" Azriel murmurs, glancing up at you.

"Definitely." You smile, nodding. "It's going to keep someone very warm, this winter."

--------

There's no note, and it's gone.

Teeth prod at the interior of your lower lip, shoulders sloping a little.

It had been your best work so far.

You heave a sigh - neither you nor Azriel would have any use for it, you remind yourself. It's good that someone else has it now, hopefully keeping a little loved one warm. Warding the cold nights away.

You take the pencil in your hand, but the point is still sharp. Still fine for use. And the pad is still full, at least a few dozen thin sheets of note paper left beside the empty, open basket.

You don't knit that day, deciding to give yourself some rest, taking Azriel's place in the armchair and huddling down until he's finished with work. Inhaling the remnants of his scent from where they're clinging to the fibres of the fabric.

The hours fly by, then a familiar palm is resting on your shoulder, guiding you back to consciousness. His scent is much more concentrated now he's near, and you take a deep inhale of him, arms lethargically wrapping around his neck. A chuckle tickles your throat, then his own arms are sweeping beneath you, pulling you from the comfy chair and into his comfier lap. "Ready to walk?" He murmurs, fingers grazing your hair, playfully stroking patterns down your back while his shadows weave between your fingers, tentatively roaming over you, making their analyses of the day, checking your state.

"Is it time for a walk already?" You mumble through a yawn, shifting closer to him, greedily taking down as much of his heat as you can. "It was morning just a few minutes ago..."

"You're going to be awake all night if you don't expend some energy," Azriel chuckles, getting the both of you to your feet, guiding you to the front door.

It's already fairly dark by the time you're outdoors, a cool breeze skittering up your sleeves, making you shiver. Azriel notices, pulling you closer, "think you can make the ribbing a little tighter? The wind will be kept out then." You hum noncommittally, not particularly stirred by the option, just hugging your scarf tighter.

There are still quite a few people out, and you can't really help the way your eyes stray, hopefully searching for a familiar pattern, or series of colours.

Maybe you should take a break from knitting for a while. Give yourself some time to rest in the evenings once you're finished working, instead of trying to relax yourself with a different form of work.

Hobbies are supposed to be fun.

[leonw4nter]

Magnolia

[RE2!Leon x GN!Reader]

"After several successful nights of studying hard, your doting boyfriend has nothing but words of praise for your efforts <3" [fluff]

wc - 449

After finishing up on checking your practice sets, you hold your paper up in satisfaction. 35/35, a perfect score, a hard-earned perfect mark from all the nights and hours spent doing active recall and solving practice questions. You grin to yourself, feeling confident and prepared for a long test, proud of the fact that you managed to effectively study. You set it back down, slipping your reviewers and other study material back into its designated L-shape folder to place it inside your backpack. Your boyfriend and study buddy Leon reclines in his seat and stretches his arms above his head, his wrinkled white tee’s hem riding up slightly to reveal a sliver of pale skin.

“Congrats,” he softly says as his words melt into a yawn. “I’m very proud of you. That score wasn’t so easy to get, y’know.”

You preen on his words, chuckling softly as you zip your bag closed. “Yep but I managed to make it happen, thanks to your amazing guidance. Thank you.”

Your boyfriend pushes his glasses back up into his nose bridge before raking a hand through his cornsilk-tousled hair. “Hey, it’s all you. I was just here for moral support.”

He helps with organizing your desk, neatening it up as he stashed away other papers, pens, and blocks of multi-colored sticky notes. He offers to wash the mug you used and to throw away the scrap papers you used, ushering you to settle in bed first. In under 6 minutes, he’s cuddling with you underneath the sheets in your bed. You’re facing him, head cushioned by his arm as your own arm is slumped over his torso. You’re growing drowsy, but you don’t want to fall asleep just yet. Leon’s making it hard to stay awake, his free hand gently stroking and patting your head as he murmurs delicate praises.

“My intelligent, hard-working, incredible sweetheart.”

“I know you’re going to absolutely smash that test, you have enough preparation and the drive to succeed.”

“I love, love, love, love, love you. You’re a rockstar, you managed to stay positive and handled the pressure like a pro. You’re so strong for that.”

“You don’t know how inspiring you are, baby. You’re a champ and this will all be worth it, I promise you.”

You lose track of all his other words, falling asleep. He smiles to himself when he feels your breathing slow down, relaxing at his side as he places a silvery kiss to your head. His hand moves to rest on your shoulder blade, a comforting warm weight as you sleep. With a whispered ‘good night’, sleep tiptoes in and his body softens as he gives in to the soothing pull of slumber.

NOTE - Wrote up a short n sweet drabble as a writing exercise since I haven't written in a hot minute! This one's a little different because my usual works are 1-2K words but this one is just 400+ words so yk, trying something new here ;) I'll be gone for a bit since I have exams coming up and more projects after that, I'm going to miss writing for a bit but I'll try to find windows where I'm not really busy so I can write a lil smn smn like this :) This drabble is inspired by an irl experience-- the studying part, not the Leon as my boyfriend one (unfortunately-- I'm chronically bitchless). I came up with this idea after I imagined Leon hyping me up and being lovely after an intense study sesh :3 umm so while I was gone, I got a new iPad like 3 days ago :D I can play RE4 now :D!!! anyway, thanks for reading my fics!!!!!!!!!!! I <33333333 UUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The animated line dividers are made by cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[krysalla]

hide me from the cleaver, i'll hang with you forever! - i

thomas hewitt x fat f!reader

word count: 5.4k

read on ao3

warnings: 18+ MDNI, blood, violence, gore, murder, kidnapping, drugging, body horror

Tommy has been lonely for so long. He's ready to settle down.

You startle awake and you can’t move. Your limbs are locked up, unwilling to comply with any thought or demand that they move, they stay glued to your sides while you try to fight yourself into full consciousness. All you can do is look ahead, up into the vast darkness of this room, and will yourself not to cry. You don’t know what’s going on. You don’t remember checking into a motel, the last thing you remember was the bright sun filtering the the van’s windows, lulling you into an uneasy sleep while your friends chatted amongst themselves toward the front of the van, the feeling of sweat pooling in the creases of your body and soaking your shirt and hair.

This bed is unfamiliar and not a motel bed. The sheets don’t have the starchy smell and stiffness that they would if you were in a motel. It’s a private home. If you were in a hospital, there would be more noise and light. You’d rather be in a hospital.

Whoever put you here, they tucked you into bed like a child with the sheets snug under the outline of your body and a soft pillow under your head. Maybe a good samaritan? Maybe it was a car accident and being out in the middle of nowhere, the nearest hospital must be at least an hour’s drive away. No, that still doesn’t make sense. You try not to cry, but as you keep coming up with ideas about why you’re here nothing clicks in your memory. You whine out in frustration. The how isn’t important, not when you can’t move.

You take a deep breath through your nose and exhale through your mouth, trying to relax so you can jump start your limbs into working again. Your mouth is dry and the taste of your last meal is hot on your breath–a pre-packaged pastry and gas station coffee. Your stomach grumbles. Whatever happened, it happened before you and your friends stopped off for lunch. The room is pitch black so it must be well past nine at night. If you can still taste your breakfast, it must be the same day or at least the early hours of the next day. Pinpointing a timeline makes you feel a little better about your situation.

Your hand flexes and finally you’re able to push yourself up. You rip the blanket off of you and your arms and chest scream out at you. You’re not wearing your clothes. You were wearing a loose shirt and a pair of cut offs. Someone stuffed you into a dress that is at least two sizes too small for you. You feel across your chest, the neckline is low, maybe not for the person it was intended for, but on you it is, you are spilling out everywhere. The sleeves cut into your upper arms and constrain the breadth of your shoulders, the fabric stretches tight over your wide hips and soft stomach, the buttons holding the front of the dress closed are straining against all of you, creating gaps between the edges of the fabric. Whoever dressed you removed your undergarments too, probably to make it easier to squeeze you into this horrendous dress. Your first instincts are your friends, this wouldn’t be the first time they’ve pulled a trick on you, but this feels needlessly cruel, even for them, to strip you down while you’re sleeping.

Your friends–where are they?

There’s no one else in this room, you can’t hear any breathing but your own. You get off the bed and on shaky legs wander blindly in the dark until you see the small strip of light coming from under a door and stagger toward it like a moth to a flame, this will lead you out of here, get you the answers you need. You pull the door open and hiss at the bright, sickly yellow that floods the room. You blink, waiting for the spots dancing across your vision to fade away. The hallway is dilapidated and filthy. The walls are yellow too, it’s not from paint but years worth of smoke build up. You tiptoe through the hallway, trying your best to keep quiet, but the old floorboards creak under your weight.

You get a better look at what you're wearing. The dress is old and well loved but you are ruining it. Your stomach and hips bulge against the fabric and the skirt was supposed to be loose but it’s swallowed up by your thighs and ass. You can barely make a full step.

You pass by three more doors, two of them to your left and one to your right, before you find the staircase.

A woman wails from somewhere downstairs.

You follow the voices even though your gut is telling you not to. The stairs don’t creak under your weight, deceptive given the looks of them. No, you move silently through the house, every sound drowned out by the woman crying frantically. Nothing can be heard over her, not the shifts of the wood floors or the stretching and ripping of the dress you’re wearing. One of the buttons pops and hits the wall. 

The front door looks so inviting, it’s the best idea. You don’t know where you are, you’re wearing a stranger's clothes, you have no idea how you came here and there’s a woman howling. This is not a safe place, you need to leave but you can’t. No matter how hard you will yourself to grab the doorknob and slip out unnoticed, you can’t. That could be one of your friends–either Anna or Lucy–and you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you left them here. You close your eyes and head towards the chaos you know is waiting for you.

As you get closer, you can distinguish the voices clearly. It’s Anna. Her usual soft tone becomes shriller and more agitated with each passing second, with each step you take. She’s cursing and threatening. A man is yelling now, a woman too. Both sound older. A dog barks.

You peek your head around the corner. 

Anna is tied to a chair with thick ropes. Her red hair, her pride and joy, is a mess, tangled like someone had run their hands through it and tried to yank it out by the roots. She fights and tugs at the ropes, rocking the chair with her, a wild look in her eye, the kind you see in a wild animal that’s been cornered and has no other option than to bare its teeth and fight. Around her is a family, you think. An older man stands at the head of the table, holding onto the back of the chair. He looks bored. Another man is in a wheelchair with a small, mangy dog in his lap. A woman sits next to the man in the wheelchair. The table is covered by a lacy tablecloth and set up for a big dinner. The evening meal sits, ready to be served. There are five place settings. You only count four people.

The bored man shouts, “Tommy, get in here and shut ‘er up already.”

There’s number five.

A man lumbers out from the other entrance to the dining room and your mouth dries. He’s huge. You’ve never seen a man that size before. His presence captures your attention, stealing you away from your concern for your friend who is clearly in big fucking trouble. Something isn’t right about his face. It looks off, loose around his eyes and mouth, like there’s too much skin and it can’t hold itself up anymore. He looks so familiar.

“You stay the fuck away from me, you fucking freak!” Anna yells before breaking back down hysterical tears. You hear an electric humming. Then comes the roar. The man–Tommy–has a chainsaw and he wields it without a problem, like the beast of a machine weighs nothing at all to him. You finally take a step into the doorway.

Red everywhere. There’s no hiding from the blood and carnage. Anna is convulsing to the rhythm of the chainsaw ripping through her chest. Tommy rears the chainsaw back and forth out of her body. Blood splatters everywhere, the rubbery bits of her flesh sticking to every surface and splashing into the pot on the table. Her bones crunch and crack in a sickening symphony. You can’t connect this brutality with the domestic setting around you. A family dinner all served up on the table with a frilly tablecloth to protect the wooden table. 

You clamp your hands over your mouth. You don’t want to watch this carnage but you can’t move. You’re stuck and you see Anna’s head loll around on her neck until she looks up at you, and you can hardly believe that she is still alive. Her eyes light up, it’s dim but you can see her register you, and she attempts to speak. Her words are garbled and wet, tongue too coated with blood to get her words out properly. The chainsaw pushes all the way through her chest again. Her jaw goes slack and her eyes wide in agony. The chainsaw pulls back. A death rattle, her final breath. Her head drops.

The man, the one who was yelling, cackles and smiles something awful while he reaches out and grabs onto her red hair and pulls her head up to face him. He spits on her face. It’s brown from chewing tobacco. “Ain’t so pretty now, you stupid bitch, huh?”

“Hoyt, watch your language!” the older woman admonishes. 

“Now, Mama,” the man lets go of Anna’s hair and straightens up. “Worse things been done at this table than a lil’ bit a swearin’.”

The mangy mutt on the still nameless man’s lap growls at you. Everyone looks up at you.

The man–Hoyt–settles a hand on his hip and looks at the behemoth that carved up Anna. He snorts, “Seems your sleeping beauty woke up, boy.”

Tommy looks up at you and you realize why he looks so familiar. That’s not his face. That’s David, Lucy’s boyfriend. He cut off his face and is wearing it like a mask. You notice the blood around his eyes and on his neck. It’s fresh. David and Anna are dead. Lucy and Bobby’s fates unknown, but you know what yours will be.

You scream.

The man stomps toward you but you dodge him, running toward the door and blessedly, it’s unlocked. You throw it open and bound down the front steps. The moon is full tonight, casting enough light to help you find your way, but that means he can see you too. You can hear him behind you, his hulking weight racing after you and his heavy breaths pounding like a drum in your ear. He’s so close, all he has to do is reach out a hand and grab you by the back of the neck. You duck and weave between the laundry hung up on the line, hoping he will get confused and lose you in the chaos.

You veer left and head towards the thicket of trees. A dirt road runs perpendicular to it. You can lose him through there and follow the dirt road to a paved one. Maybe a semi truck will roll through or a farmer with a truck or anyone. Anyone would be better than this bloodthirsty family you’ve encountered.

You run as fast and as long as you can, but you are not built for it. Your knees and ankles ache, the bottom two buttons on the dress have popped and given you more room to move but only expose you more. You burn in humiliation and anger. 

Tommy seems to have disappeared. You thought it would be a relief, but it’s not, he could be anywhere, he has the home field advantage. He knows the roads better than you, probably knows the woods too. Each sound, no matter how soft it is, has your head swiveling around on your neck, looking for the ever present threat of him, the glint of the blade glowing in the night. Blood rushes to your ears. You have to get out of here. You need to get to the police and tell them what kind of freaks are living out here. Are you the first to encounter them? The ease with which they orchestrated and witnessed the carnage of Anna’s death tells you no. That beast’s mask–David’s face–the work around the eyes and mouth and nose, all those delicate features, it was carved clean. That is not the first face he’s worn.

What do you know? You are in Texas. Somewhere between Austin and Odessa. David and Anna are dead, Lucy and Bobby are missing and most likely dead. It’s the dead of night. Which way is west? You have no landmarks to point you in the right direction, at least back home you have the mountains, and you have no idea how to find the north star. 

There–the road lies just ahead of you.

You miss the shards of glass on the shoulder of the road. It digs into the flesh of your foot and you wail in pain as it hits bone. You crumple to the ground and hold onto your foot.

He makes his appearance. He breaks through the treeline, shoulder heaving with his heavy breaths, eyes shining in the dark as he stalks closer to you. This is it. You get on your knees and hold yourself up with your hands, trying to push up, but the second you dare put any weight on your foot, your leg gives out. You yell, deep from your chest and swing your head up to look at him. He walks slowly and it makes you angry. He’s playing with his food and you just want this over with. You’re done, there’s nothing left for you to do.

“C’mon, hurry up! I don’t have all day,” you spit out at him.

He dangles the chainsaw in your face when he stops in front of you. You gag at the stench of iron and sight of chunks of Anna still stuck in the chain. He tilts the weapon and presses your chin up with the flat side, smearing her blood over your face as he examines you. You can hear the low hum of the engine. He stares at you from behind his mask. His eyes are dark and wide. He adjusts his grip on the chainsaw and shifts his weight. You don’t lose eye contact with him. You will not be the one to break or bend. If he wants you dead, he will look you in the eye while he plunges that monster through your chest. You are going to meet your fate and he will have to watch you die, you won’t let him take the cowardly way out like he did with Anna.

It’s hard for someone to make you feel small. Even if they were taller than you, odds are you were wider, but beneath him, you feel minuscule. He’s barrel chested, shoulders wide and arms bulging with muscles. Everything about him radiates strength and power. You clench your jaw and swallow.

You reach out and grab the saw, bringing the tip right to the center of your chest. You’re aware of the image and if you had been watching this interaction from the sidelines, you’d laugh at the implications of this. You, with your large chest spilling out from the fabric of your dress, on your knees while he towers over you with a weapon that is no doubt phallic pointed right at you. How pornographic. You grab the saw again, fingers slipping against the wet metal to press it harder against you.

“C’mon! Kill me already!” you shout. This show of bravery is a farce. You are terrified. If you thought begging or pleading would save you, you would. But no, you see that no amount of messy pleading and placations will save you. It didn’t save Anna. No human could take a life in that manner and be weakened by bargaining. 

His eyes flash up to you. The skin of his mask distorted and warped from the heat and his own sweat. The nose collapses in on itself. You offer yourself up to him on a silver platter and he won’t make a move. 

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon…” You grit your teeth and push yourself into the saw. His hand wavers.

The deafening roar never comes. The engine cuts off and the buzzing stops. He drops the chainsaw and instead reaches out to touch you. He cups your face and whines. You drop your jaw at the utterly pathetic noise you just heard come out of the behemoth. He takes that as an invitation and shoves his thick fingers into your mouth. You gag at the intrusion and taste of him—blood and grime and sweat. His other hand presses your top lip up. Under his scrutiny, you feel like a show pig being judged. Maybe you’ll win a prize. Whatever he sees, he nods and pulls his fingers from your mouth, a strand of your spit connecting him to you until it breaks. He wipes his fingers on his dirty cargo pants.

He hauls you up onto your feet, not paying any mind the blows you land on his chest. He ducks and wraps an arm around your thick waist and without much hassle lifts you over his shoulder, he bounces once to get himself comfortable with the weight of you and then picks up the chainsaw and walks you back to the dirt road, back to the house of horrors. You can’t even fight him, too stunned at the display of strength. You haven’t been picked up since you were a little girl.

You go quietly with him. You have no energy left to expend now that the adrenaline has left your system.

It’s only a few minutes before the house comes back into view. The woman and Hoyt wait for your arrival on the front porch, backlit by the patio lights. They follow him in the door, the woman clucking over you, her hands skating over your face as Tommy takes you deeper into the house.

“Now, Tommy, you couldn’t find anything better to fit her? She looks like a hussy in that thing.”

He grunts in reply. Another fact to add to what you know: he is the one who dressed you and presumably the one who tucked you into that bed upstairs. But why? Why would he do that when he slaughtered the others? Why treat you with the kindness of tucking you into bed while Anna was tied up with rope and David’s face skinned from his head. The fifth setting at the dinner table. You didn’t understand why they would set it for someone destined to die. It wasn’t for Anna, the place at the table was for you. He intends to keep you.

He grabs your injured foot and spins around to show it to the woman who clicks her tongue at the sight.

“Set her on the couch, I’ll make some tea.”

He deposits you on the couch and stands behind you. Hoyt settles himself across from you with a sly smile and his arms crossed over his chest. He licks his lips as he devours the disheveled sight of you. You close your legs tight and hold your hands on your lap, hoping to block his view.

“Mhm, Tommy, think I get why you chose this broad outta all of them. Looks sweet as pie, wonder if she tastes as sweet as she looks.”

Tommy grabs your shoulder in what you assume is a protective manner. You can’t see what he does behind you, but whatever it is, it’s enough to get that man to stop looking at you like that.

“Hoyt, ain’t you got your own girl to entertain?” the woman asks as she reappears from the kitchen with a tray in her hand that holds a tea cup and some first aid supplies. Lucy. That must be Lucy that they are talking about.

“She don’t seem as fun as this one.”

“Leave Tommy’s girl alone. My boy deserves something nice and you ain’t gonna get in the way of that.”

He huffs and rolls his eyes, arms falling back to his side as he levels the woman with a glare. “Fine.”

Hoyt leaves and the grip on your shoulder relaxes.

“Tommy, go get a blanket for her.” She sets her supplies out on the coffee table and sits across from you on it. She smiles at you, not unkindly but you can see that sharpness in her eyes, she doesn’t trust you, thinks you’re an intrusion. The skin on her hands is thin, veins dark blue and protruding, and covered with spots. Her fingers are knobbly. She grabs your right ankle and pulls your injured foot into her lap. She looks back up behind you. “Tommy,” she says sternly. 

You hear him walk away. 

“He’s a good boy. Just wants to make sure you’re alright.” She examines your foot and picks up a pair of tweezers. “You got yourself good here. I’ll be quick about it.”

The glass slides out with a little maneuvering and you bite your lip to keep from crying out. The woman’s eyes crinkle behind her glasses. She pulls out another piece of glass slowly, watching your reaction to it. She likes this. 

A quilt is thrown over your lap and you rush to cover your body with it. 

“She’ll be fine, quit your hovering. I’m tryna work here.”

Tommy makes a disquieted noise. 

The last piece of glass comes out, the one that reached bone and you can’t stop yourself. You whine and bury your face in the blanket. Tommy has his hands on your shoulders again, thumbs rubbing circles into you. 

“There we go. Just gotta get you cleaned up.” She goes to work on cleaning out the wound and wrapping it up. 

You whimper and push yourself further into the corner of the couch. Tommy leans over you, gazing down at you with a soft look. He has brown eyes. Dried blood cracks around the corners of his eyes, you can’t see his lips through the mask but you know he’s smiling.

“Oh hush now, it’s all done now.” She pats your ankle. “Have some tea—It’ll help settle your nerves.”

“I don’t want tea.”

She narrows her eyes at you and reaches across the empty space between you and grabs your chin, fingers digging into the fat of your cheeks. “I won’t take no lip from you, missy. Drink the tea. Ain’t a request, understand?” She shoves your head to the side when she lets go. 

“Okay.”

She harrumphs and passes the tea cup to you. You don’t want to think about what she may have put in here. You chug it down. You hand the teacup back. It was a mistake to down it all in one go. You can’t think straight and your body feels heavy. Maybe it’s arsenic. That would be a cleaner way to go.

“Good girl,” she croons. She looks up past you. “Take her to bed.”

You’re in the air again, swinging in his grip as he takes you back upstairs and back into the bed you woke up in. He tucks you in beneath blankets and fluffs your pillow for you. If this was anyone else, you’d think the action was sweet, loving but it’s not, it’s him, the man who murdered your friend. When he’s content that you are comfortable enough, he sits on the edge of the bed, springs creaking under his weight, and he cups your cheek. You blink tears from your eyes and he wipes them away. 

“What are you going to do to me?” you ask. 

He peers at you through David’s face and leans down to kiss your forehead. You feel his lips part the hole he made of David’s mouth. He kisses you chastely like a parent does a child when they have a nightmare. 

You can’t fight the wave of exhaustion and the sedative weighing you down. It would be easier for him and better for you if he killed you in your sleep. It’s a reassuring thought that this ordeal will be over when you close your eyes. You let your dreams take you. 

-

The heat’s much worse in the backseat of the van. You feel more like cargo than a human back here, sitting amongst all the suitcases that didn’t fit in the trunk. You’re by yourself back here, all your friends sit in the front of the van, leaning over each other and chattering away with one another while you sit forgotten with their luggage. It’s all so on the nose that if you weren’t in this situation, you’d be laughing. Physical proof of where you stand in relation to everyone else.

You started to notice it more and more, how separated you are from the other five. It never bothered you much as a kid, just happy to be included by anyone, no matter if it was just the scraps of a friendship. Better to be the doormat than alone. But you’re older now and it’s starting to take its toll. It’s always been there, lurking, the doubt of their love for you, that is nowhere near the same level you gave to them. Time and age have given you a little perspective and you’re just so tired of carrying it all around.

One last trip.

You pluck at the fabric of your shirt, hoping for a little relief from the heat and your own sweat. The air conditioning doesn’t reach back here. Anna and her boyfriend, David, in the front seat don’t even bother to open the windows. They are perfectly comfortable with the steady stream of cool air hitting them directly. You shift in your seat and feel the back of your legs peel away from the leather and can feel the sweat gathering beneath your thighs,on the back of your knees, in the crease of your inner elbow from how you have your arms folded close to your torso.

Lucy and Bobby play a card game and flirt good naturedly, nothing will come from it, they’ve been playing this game since they were fifteen.

David curses and hits the steering wheel. “Almost out of gas.”

-

You’re alone again when you wake. You’re devastated that you woke up. You curl onto your side and cry until you have nothing left to give. Your eyes are swollen and lips irritated from your dry heaving, but when the tears run out you wipe your eyes and nose and fix yourself straight. There’s no use in crying. Crying won’t find you a way out. Lucy and Bobby are still out there. You have to find them.

The room is bathed in sunlight and you get your first real look around. There’s sparse furniture: the bed, a side table and a set of tall drawers. The wallpaper, a peach floral pattern, is water damaged and peeling. It’s a small room, maybe what was a guest room. On the dresser is a stack of folded clothing. 

You rush out of bed, limping on your bad foot, desperate to change out of the dress. The clothes are yours. They were in your suitcase. They have your things. You hurry out of the dress, the rest of the buttons popping off in your urgency. There’s indents all over your body from the tight fabric and you try your best to soothe them before you dress. It’s the most modest outfit that you packed—a pair of jeans and a long sleeve blouse along with your undergarments.

You stand by the door, listening for any signs of life on the other side. Nothing. The house is deathly silent. You pull the door open with care not to let the hinges squeak.

There’s only four other rooms upstairs that she could be in. The one at the end of the hall, the one you didn’t notice the night before, is a bathroom. You peek through the next two doors, both empty save for some furnishing. This last one must be her. You hear the light shuffling of sheets through the door and a weary moan.

Lucy is bound and gagged on a four poster bed with gauzy curtains hanging around her, her arms pulled apart in a spreader bar and her feet tied to the bedpost with the same thick rope they used on Anna. Her clothes are ripped to shreds and bloodied. She’s covered in cuts and bruises and her lips are cracked and there’s a chunk of hair missing close to her hairline. You can’t help but feel lucky. Her and Anna have gotten the worst treatment of the three of you, you’ve barely come out with a scratch, the only real injury you have was one of your own making. It strikes you then that Hoyt may be more dangerous than Tommy with his lecherous stares and bloodthirsty smile.

You lean over her and cup her cheeks. “Lucy! Wake up. Gonna get you outta here.”

She stirs.

“Dumpling? Thought they got you for sure. First one that got hauled away…” she slurs and drops out of consciousness.

“No, no.” You pat her face and she still doesn’t respond. You hope she’ll be able to forgive you. You slap her across her cheek, leaving a stinging, red mark in the shape of your hand. She jolts awake, laughing and crying at the same time. “Lucy, stop. They’re gonna come up here.”

She takes no heed, only attempts to kick her legs out and wrestle her way out of the spreader bar. She manages to shift the bed across the floor by an eighth of an inch in her efforts. You can’t hear over her laughter, they could be coming up the stairs right now and you’d never know and you’d lose the opportunity to escape. Tommy had too much faith in you not to try running again or the old woman didn’t add enough sleeping pills to her tea, probably used to dosing up women who are half your size. You cover her mouth with your hand and use your other to pull the cuff loose.

The door bursts open as she bites down on the flesh of your hand and you cry out in pain. She uses such force that she breaks skin. Heavy steps make their way to you. Tommy is by your side, picking your hand up to examine, whining when he sees the damage done to you. He isn’t wearing the full mask, just a half one that covers the lower half of his face in dark brown leather. You can see scarring peek over the edges of his mask and across his forehead. His dark hair hangs limply around his shoulders. Tommy looks down at the floor, cheeks gone ruddy under your examination. 

You notice the cleaver at the same time she does. It glints, casting spots of light along the walls of the room from how his hand shakes around it.

“Look what you did! You stupid, fat cow!” Lucy’s voice pitches up in fear as she spews venom at you, blaming you for her own actions. You could have saved her but she wouldn’t listen to you. 

His head whips to the side, looking down at Lucy with narrowed eyes, shoulders stiff as he tests the weight of the cleaver in his right hand. He reeks of blood and body odor.

She doesn’t stop her insults, the same things you’ve heard for years and you walk backward away from her, cradling your hand to your chest, trying to stop the bleeding. His free hand holds onto your shoulder, squeezing twice before gently nudging you to the side.

You hear scurrying steps and out from behind him comes Hoyt. “Aw, now look what your bitch did!” 

“What? You’re gonna stand here with these inbred fucks!” she yowls and arches her body off the bed. “Of course the only man that would even touch you would be a freak.”

Tommy takes four quick steps to the bed and raises the cleaver above his head and with one smooth swing and a terrible wail, plants the blade into her skull. He pulls it out with a sickening crunch, but Lucy still hasn’t given up on life, she hangs on by a thread. Her eye is popped and deflated, liquid oozing out of the socket, her insults turning into unfettered rambling. You vomit. He huffs in satisfaction, letting her writhe around on the bed a little more while Hoyt curses and shouts. The blade comes down once more and ends Lucy’s slurred speech. 

[a-muscle-the-size-of-your-fist]

Everyone has tags now!

Everyone Was Stoked; It Was Like The Whole School Was Totally Coked Or Something (𝕃𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕡𝕠𝕡 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕤𝕒𝕨 𝕄𝕦𝕤𝕖𝕤)

I'm Not A Girl I'm A Swarm Of Bees; Wrapped In A Skin Suit; Perfect Teeth (𝔼𝕕𝕚𝕥𝕙)

Mr. Cellophane Should Have Been My Name 'Cause You Can Look Right Through Me; Walk Right By Me; And Never Know I'm There (𝔽𝕠𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣)

I'm Fired Up And Tired Of The Way That Things Have Been (𝔽𝕠𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 & 𝕃𝕚𝕡𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜)

Game Face On; Hit The Pose Like Perfect! Smack My Face On The Pavement; Nurses! (𝕁𝕦𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕥)

Tiptoe Through The Window; By The Window That Is Where I'll Be; Come Tiptoe Through The Tulips With Me (𝕃𝕚𝕡𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜)

In The Valley Of The Dolls We Sleep; Got A Hole Inside Of Me (ℙ𝕠𝕡𝕡𝕪)

You Take A Mortal Man And Put Him In Control; Watch Him Become A God! Watch People's Heads A-Roll! (𝕊𝕨𝕒𝕟)

So, I have become positively deranged for fandoms not on this blog. I have sort of made blogs for them but I don't intend on sharing until they're finished. I sort of doubt anyone here would be interested just based on fandoms but if you want to know you can ask!

At any rate, I'm trying to come back here, and against my better judgment, I'll be adding five-ish more characters!

Poppy from Poppy Playtime!

Edith Rose Sawyer/Heather Miller from Texas Chainsaw Massacre 3D!

Foster Lambert and The Lipstick-Face Demon from Insidious! These two will come as a package deal and is post-Red Door.

Swan and Juliet Starling from Lollipop Chainsaw!

[luverine]

⛆ Puddles and Cuddles ⛆

Bakugou Katsuki x (GN) Reader

MDNI // SFW // 1.1k words

You woke up earlier than usual. The sun is just starting to rise dimly, lighting the room a soft orange.

Getting up off the comfortable green duvet covers that are disheveled from a good night's sleep. You made your way to the window tiptoeing to not wake your darling partner still sleeping.

It’s raining very lightly as it had been through the night as that is what lured you to sleep so much earlier. The light tapping of the rain hitting the window was calming and put your mind to ease.

You decided today was going to be a relaxing day. You are going to make green tea with honey and light candles through the house. Watch movies and play games you and your husband have missed due to your busy schedules.

The candles lit of your favorite smell wafts through the house waking Katsuki from his slumber. He rubs the sleep out of his eyes, turning his groggy head towards your side of the bed that is faintly warm but you are nowhere to be seen.

…

The curtains are open and it's raining. “Great…” Katsuki thought. Sluggishly moving out of bed he slides his slippers on and makes his way out of the bedroom where a familiar scent gets stronger.

It’s they’re favorite smell he sees the candles you have scattered through the house giving the atmosphere a yellow hue.

He makes his way to the kitchen where you are standing over the stove waiting on a kettle. He grins slightly quietly walking towards you wrapping his strong arms around your waist, and puts his head between your neck and shoulder giving small kisses up your neck to your cheek.

“Good morning my love.” You say playing with his bed hair as he’s still behind you surely not completely awake.

“Come back to bed ” He mumbles out gruffly into your neck.

You giggle from the feeling of his breath on his neck. “You go back to bed, I'll be there soon my love. I wanted some tea.”

Katsuki groans letting go of you walking back towards the bedroom blowing out the candles in the living room, wary your precious candles might burn the house down.

…

Katsuki jolts due to the bed shaking from you hopping onto the bed beside him. A tray of green tea and a small bowl of honey sits on the bedside table on your left.

“Done with your shenanigans?” He asks sitting up to grab the cup of tea you brought over to him. “Me? Shenanigans never.” You giggle as he lightly flicks your forehead at your quip.

You enjoy the aura around you sipping some tea, as Katsuki sets his cup down and lays back down putting his arms lazy around your middle.

…

Some time goes on while you and your darling love have been sleeping and relaxing on the bed a movie faintly playing in the background.

You can feel that you're getting a little antsy. You need to move around later in the day around ten in the morning.

The rain hasn’t stopped pitter-pattering on the windows as a matter of fact the rain has gotten heavier. Still not a storm, no thunder or lightning.

It’s perfect weather to have fun outside in a pair of rubber boots and a raincoat. You smile at the idea of forcing Katsuki into the orange raincoat with two little bombs in the bottom corners you bought.

Looking back at the bed where he still lays snoozing. You think about how he really needs sleep, how being a hero is a demanding and tiring job.

“Oh but it would be so fun!” You think out loud. Gently getting back into bed and moving closer to him you poke his cheek and give his scalp a good scratch.

“Mmm, What?” Katsuki grunts as his sleep is disturbed once more. “Get up, sleepy head, we're going to play in the rain.” You ruffle his blond locks trying to wake him.

He hums and turns away from you trying to get some more shut-eye. You giggle at his stubbornness and push him to sit up.

He finally awakes, giving a deadly glare. It doesn’t affect you or your playful idea to go splash in puddles and dance around in the rain.

…

After some time of coaxing Katsuki to go outside in the rain with you. You made a late breakfast consisting of scrambled eggs and some toast. Impatiently waiting for Kat to finish eating and doing his morning routine.

As he finishes up you get ready putting on your raincoat and rubber boots that are of course matching.

Katsuki corners the hallway walking to the foyer. He sees you in your matching rain outfit and smirks. Of course you would look beautiful in a raincoat.

He comes up to you and holds onto your waist giving you a lovingly squeeze and a small powerful kiss.

Once he pulls away you show him the matching set you got him, the orange raincoat with the two bombs and the black rain boots.

He deadpans “Oh hell no.” He looks at you in disbelief. “C’mon Kats! I got it just for you.” You sing out pushing the coat and boots toward him.

“It’s no biggie just go put it on I want to go out in the rain!” You rush him to the bedroom to go change.

…

You wait at the front door practically vibrating because of how bad you need to go out and play in the rain and puddles.”

Katsuki walks up to you with an embarrassed blush coating his face “Can we get this over with?” He mutters.

“You look so cute! Yes this is going to be a blast!” You shout opening the door and you both are welcomed to a slight chilly breeze and droplets of rain.

You coo at the beauty and joy of being outside in the rain. You raise your arms and spin around feeling the rain coat your exposed skin. You jump in a small puddle making a big splash.

“Isn’t this great Katsuki?!” You ask, smiling at him.

He’s just standing there admiring you with a slight scowl from the weather “You are weird.” He says as you keep twirling.

You stop and walk your way towards him holding out your hands. He gives you a confused look and holds your hands. “Look on the bright side, no one is out here, it's just you and I love.”

You push him to spin, not letting go of him trying to get his stubborn self to have some fun. As you begin to spin he grabs onto you tighter so now you both are slowly dancing into the rain enjoying the weather and each other.

Slow dancing in the rain with no music other than the sounds that Mother Nature provides.

“I love the rain but I love you more”

Likes, reblogs, comments appreciated! Pleases don’t steal my work ＊✿❀

Boarder credit saradika

[redcoralpot]

Stu!! I love seeing ppl love him. Would I be able to request some roleswap ish au, where reader is a slasher, and stu is the "final girl". He gets caught ofc, and reader unmasks, smut ensues (maybe stu had a crush or smth, maybe dubcon if u accept it).

Unrelated: Loved seeing Matthew lillard as william Afton, he did so good.

Ruined Man - Stu Macher X M!Reader

Summary: Stu Macher was a classic rich boy; arrogant, eccentric, and an asshole. He was known for playing cruel pranks on others, and earlier in the weak, he pranked Sidney by scaring her as the infamous Ghostface Killer. Maybe, just maybe, he deserved a taste of his own medicine. Trick or treat, right?

Warnings: NSFW, non-fatal violence, weapons.

Word Count: 2K

A/N: I don't write anything with SA, CNC, or dub-con; Stu plainly consents to the activities described. He has implied feelings for the Reader, and other implied activities as well... but I'll let you discover that part.

-

-

Crickets chirped in the grass, the crescent moon high in the sky. Finally, the noise from the Macher’s Halloween party had died down, and most people had left already, causing a blanket of peace to float down on the street. Any stragglers were drunkenly slumped against the curb, blacked out or calling for a sober ride. Your mask stuck out from the shadows, exaggerated and white, as you watched the property slowly become empty. Well, empty except for the host, of course. Stu Macher.

You could see him through one of the many windows, lounging on the first floor’s living room couch, still moving. Your fingers fumbled against the phone’s dial– god, how do killers run in this shit– pulling the black fabric further up your arm to position the voice changer closer to your mouth. Now, you patiently waited for the other man to pick up, seeing him jolt out of his position. Stu rubbed his eyes, and stumbled to the kitchen.

“Yo?”

Your lips curled into a nasty sneer, “Do you like scary movies, Stu?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“What’s your favorite?”

“Don’t make me choose, you know I’ve watched too many good ones!”

…

Huh? There was no way he knew your identity already. You’ll give him credit, he’s smart, but most definitely not that smart. Stu always visits the rental store Randy works at, and he always rented horror movies with Sidney’s boyfriend, Billy Loomis; that much you knew. He could not have seen you through the window before he ran into the kitchen, and even if he managed to, your mask was still securely strapped on.

“You still there? I haven’t dropped off Hellraiser yet, you could've just asked if you wanna watch it again.”

You hung up, breath quickening. Stu wasn’t scared, even though you were using the same voice changer as the loose, prank-calling murderer running around the streets of Woodsboro. You dumped the phone on the ground, hidden behind a bush. If he wasn’t scared by a little sound-a-like, that was fine, you came prepared. Stu’s garage door had been left open, and you jogged over. Frankly, it didn’t matter how much the rich boy had it coming, you were never doing this again. The costume’s long fringes caught on your feet, almost causing you to trip as you avoided the windows; less silent than you had hoped. Your shoes shuffled against the concrete, and you jiggled the handle of the only door, praying it would open. It creaked as you slipped inside, your shoes surely creasing when you tiptoed into the living room. From behind the couch, you could see that Stu was still in his kitchen, but he was looking around.

He grinned, cupping his hands around his mouth, “Nobody else’s here, Billy. You don’t gotta sneak into my house, you know that!”

 Sighing, you watch him leave the room to wander about the hallways, stopping by the door you had snuck through– and forgot to close. He squinted, looking at the mistake, and back at the living room. Your cheeks burned, adrenaline starting to pump in your veins as he took a few steps closer. 

“C’mon, you wanna have a movie marathon? It’s kinda late for that, but whatever. I have plenty of snacks left from the party, and a whole lot more puke!”

Stu turned away at the last second, choosing instead to sprint down into the bathroom. You could hear a muffled, “Gotcha… nope,” over rustling cloth as you crawled on your hands and knees into the kitchen. The freezing tile shocked any distraction from your system, and you stood up, settling into the darkest part of the kitchen. One of your hands held a dull knife, while the other held the little voice changer machine. However, your position left you without visuals on your victim. You were tempted to pull down your hood, but that would be too reckless, especially since he seemed to think you were his dearest friend. Oh, man, he didn’t know what was coming. 

“Y’know I love pranks, man, but time’s up,” He probed, leaning on the marbled island, just out of reach.

Stu visibly flinched as he turned around and found you staring at him, the mask’s empty eyes giving nothing away. It took him but a second to recover, yet, and a smile accompanied his wild eyes, “Billy!”

You tilted your head, slowly raising your left hand, “Incorrect.”

He didn’t have time to respond; you lunged. You gripped his collar in a fist and slammed him into the countertop– he winced. Stu tried pushing you back, but it was in vain, your knife already threatening to pierce his throat.

Your full weight was on the man, and he raised his hands in defeat. Stu’s chest rose and fell in hefty patterns; you snickered at his obedience. His head slumped back as you released his shirt, in favor of wrenching your mask off to face him.

“Surprise, Macher.”

Stu chuckled, chewing on his bottom lip, “Didn’t know you were in on it too.”

“In on what– aren’t you scared?” You growled, pressing the knife into the flesh of his neck, but not enough to draw blood.

“Dunno,” his back arched, causing a drop of blood to drip down his shirt, “I think you could’ve done better!”

You flipped him over, slicing a fringe off of your costume to tie his hands with. Your hips were in between his thighs, leaving him trapped, and the robe itself fell on the floor beside its mask. Stu giggled, hoisting up his torso with his elbows.

“It’s payback; you could use some.”

He winced as you pulled his hair, “Hngh, it was Billy’s idea.”

“Don’t act innocent.”

“And what’re you gonna do about it, tough guy?”

You rasped, moving to step back, “Nothing you don’t want; I think the prank’s done enough.”

Stu seemed to freeze, albeit briefly, but he wrapped his ankles around your hips– preventing you from running. Your hands brushed against them, tense, as his shoulders shook.

“I wanna.” A smile laced his tone.

“You sure?”

“I’m pose-itive,” he joked, “get it?”

You wrenched his mouth open, pressing down on his tongue with your thumb, “Shut it.”

He nodded, trying his best to close his lips around your finger. Your other hand trailed down his side, taking its sweet time, before landing on his waist. Saliva still connected your fingers to his mouth as you removed them, all in favor of lifting his hips. Underneath, you unzipped his jeans, taking extra care to avoid giving any friction. When you stepped back to slide them off of Stu, he whined, his hips still chasing your touch. His jeans were thrown aside, and you slid back in your place. You knew he could feel your breath on his neck.

Your crotch ground against his ass, a shiver spreading across his spine. Stu was audibly panting; his head was hanging low and he pushed his hips to meet your thrusts. You hummed, choosing to drag the knife in soft strokes down his back, the cool metal only just piercing his skin. Red oozed in thick droplets out of the wounds, some getting big enough to trickle down his back. The pain seemed to follow it down, as Stu made quite the pathetic noise. 

“We’ve barely even gotten started, Macher, and you’re this desperate already?” You teased.

“Mm, show me what ‘cha got!”

You chuckle and suck a bruise onto the back of his neck. From that position, you could hear a groan rumble in his throat, but it wasn’t strong enough to escape. Hm, you could change that. You sunk the edge of your teeth into a different spot, holding on for a second before soothing the bite with your tongue. If the bruise didn’t make what happened obvious, well, this would. Stu would just have to deal with it. Though, you doubt he’d mind.

The knife clattered onto the marble counter after you dropped it, Stu’s thighs twitching, “Where’s the lube?”

Stu didn’t answer, but only whined.

“Use your words, pretty boy.”

His voice shook, trying to form words past used lips, “Bathroom.”

“Louder, I didn’t hear you the first time.”

Stu wiggled against your weight, “C’mon, man– f-fuck, it’s in the bathroom, please!”

You tutted, a cruel grin on your face, “Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You didn’t need directions, and as soon as you were out of his view, you practically ran there. Hell, you weren’t gonna miss out on this chance, were you? Stu, the eccentric boy that played downright evil pranks on anybody that breathed around him, reduced to a perverted degenerate. Perhaps he was already like that, and you wouldn’t be surprised. 

The lube was in a small, portable bottle that was half empty when you found it. Back in the kitchen, you poured the majority of what was left in your palm and fingers. Using just two, for the moment, you spread it over his hole; a finger may have dipped in every once and a while, in the process. 

“I wanna, I wanna do it already,” Stu shuddered, his fidgeting acting up again.

A finger eased its way inside, a little too easily, much to your surprise, “Not yet.”

“I really wanna.” Another, just as simply.

“That’s too bad;” you mused, “have you been fingering yourself?”

He bit down on his bottom lip, the taste of iron filling his mouth, “Uhuh, uhuh.”

“To what?”

“Y-you, and me.” 

You spread the final bit over your dick, before pressing your hand into the sides of his neck, “You little pervert. Bet you loved getting a glimpse of me in the locker room, yeah?”

“Yeah, yes, yes– oh, shit.” Stu’s little tangent was interrupted by you slamming inside; the sting melted in with pleasure as you brushed his prostate.

Only for a moment did you stop to let him adjust, before pulling out and thrusting again. You found a rhythm, and the counter rubbed against his cock as you continued, smearing precum over the wood. His hands, still bound, scrabbled for anything to hold onto, but in vain. His nails just slid off of the smooth stone, his drool making it even slippier. Stu squeezed his eyes shut, feeling a knot grow in his gut. 

He clenched around you, causing you to grunt, “‘M gonna cum, please let me cum, please, please… ah!”

“We’re not done yet,” you hissed, firmly slapping his thigh.

“I can’t hold it, man, I really can’t,” he sobbed out, eyelashes wet from unreleased tears.

A sharp pain on his shoulder burned through any restraint the guy had, the knot unraveling as quickly as it had formed. Stu thrashed, the fringe snapping, and his vision whited out. His brain was all fuzzy; the only thing he could focus on was gripping the edge of the counter. Stu’s face was smushed against the counter, crimson mixing with the white surface. He shivered, eyes heavy, feeling a little floaty when a thick liquid dripped down his thighs. You pulled out of him, rubbing his waist as you did so.

“Good job, Macher. That was one hell of a show you put on, ” you sighed.

“Hhn.”

His body was limp as you turned him over, using the oven towel to start to clean him up, “How’re you feeling?”

Stu finally opened his eyes, using all of his strength to grin up at you, “Dude… that was like, awesome.”

“Pfft, you sound out of it.”

“Eh, what makes you say that? I want a big glass of water!”

You cackled, leaving his side to shuffle through a cabinet full of fancy cups, finally choosing a sturdy looking mug. He grabbed it as soon as it was in arms reach, taking huge gulps from it, like he had been starved. Or, more so dying of thirst. 

When he finished, you softly said, “Do you need help getting into bed?”

Stu shrugged, so you took that as a yes. You heaved him over your shoulder, supporting him up the stairs as he giggled the whole way. As you tucked him in, you swore you could hear something from down in the kitchen.

A phone’s ring.

-

Taglist: @jaspeywasy89 , @cannabrisano , @fandomz-brainrot

Want to be tagged?

Fill out a Google Form!

[babyouran]

A Day in the Life of the Fujioka Family! - what was planned to be a quick, small trip to visit y/n and haruhi soon becomes something bigger as all the members get a peek into the commoner lifestyle

Pairing - fem!reader x host club

Apart of - ouran add in

Currently, seven of the eight Host Club members were standing outside of a run-down, tiny, one-roomed house where the Fujioka residents lived. Vines were overcrowding the fence that stood in front of the cracked home, them growing in unwanted places. The shattered windows allowed a nasty breeze to enter the house, and the grass surrounding it had weeds overgrowing up to the height of Honey’s knees. As if it could not look more disappointing, the once nice weather that seemed to greet them soon turned into darkened clouds that looked as if it were specifically just floating over the Fujioka home. 

Seeing such a dear friend in a depressing space was appalling to the group. Tamaki stood still, his eyes trained directly at the chunk of wood missing at the top of the doorframe, his hands tightly holding onto a box filled with treats. 

"This can't be right," Tamaki muttered.

"Oh Haruhi," Y/N sighed sadly, looking at the rundown place of living. When Haruhi opened the door, her expression differed much from the one they normally saw on her. She had dirt smudged on her cheeks, a sickly pale complexion, and a dizzying stance shown through her discombobulated feet trying to keep her balanced and upright. 

"Hey everyone. Why don't you come in?" Haruhi offered, and she gestured to the inside of the miniature home, where a singular chandelier hung down from the ceiling, emitting a small light to make up the whole home's space. "I know it's not much, but please make yourselves at home. I'll make us some tea." She moved across the dirtied floor, trash filtered about the room, and swung open the rusty cabinetry doors. "Um, I'm sorry, we don't have enough cups, but we do have some bowls.” 

She frantically pulled out most of the dishware available, pouring an oddly dark brownish-green tea into the chipped containers. The group couldn’t help but eye one another in an attempt to stifle their comments of concern and disgust.

"Hey, boss. What's with this place? She lives here?" Hikaru uttered.

"Maybe it's some kind of set, you know, like in the movies?" Kaoru hoped, peering behind a tattered curtain in hopes of finding a mysterious camera.

"I-I hope so!" Tamaki exclaimed, his eyes staring now into the floor, unblinking. 

"Haruhi, you don't have any books," Y/N realized, a gasp leaving her lips as she tried to search in a drawer but to no avail. The book-obsessed young maiden was wrecked at the discovery, similar to how many of the other members were. 

"Psst, Y/n," Tamaki snapped out of his trance, nudging her shoulder. "Are you okay, sweetie?"

"I'll be okay, Tamaki-senpai." Y/N shook her head up and down, wiping away an imaginary tear and taking a slow seat down onto the flattened cushion that lay near the table.

"Calm down, you guys. I bet this is the storeroom. I'm positive Infinite Cosmos is just on the other side of that closet," Tamaki told the twins, turning around on the stained cushion and narrowing his attention to them. 

"Then should we try to open it?" Kaoru tiptoed over to where the door was. 

"Now's not the time!"  

"Right.”

"Since you guys decided to come by at lunchtime, my dad said it would be rude if I didn't offer you something to eat." Haruhi walked near the group, placing the bowls and cups filled with tea in front of them. "We've been fasting for three days to save up money to buy something suited to your taste. But it's all worth it as long as you guys like it.” She put on a fake smile. 

She walked back, hunched towards the kitchen counter where the grocery bag resided, and with gawky fingers, she pulled out an eight-piece sushi sampler, holding it up in the air. 

"It was marked down at the supermarket; how about that?" Haruhi lightly cheered, now placing the platter on the table. The fish looked several days past expiration, the rice was falling from its shape with an odd color, and a disturbing odor was ruminating from the supermarket sushi. 

"Sorry, we came to visit Haru-chan! Don't make us eat it!" Honey yelled, standing up as tall as he could with his hands up in the air as if surrounded by law enforcement. 

"Be strong men; Y/n will be upset if we hurt her friend, and Haruhi has truly suffered for our benefit," Tamaki encouraged the twins, hands shakily reaching across the table to pick up a set of cheap chipped chopsticks. "It's the least we could do.” 

"But sir, I'm not even sure this is fish!" Kaoru argued. 

"Wow! I can't believe it! Isn't this a piece of fancy tuna, and I'm getting to eat it with Y/N?" Haruhi admired the tuna in her hand.

"Oh no," Y/n muttered, taking one of the sushis in between her chopsticks. "This—I think I'm going to be sick," she gagged. 

"No, Y/n, don't eat that; it isn’t fancy tuna!" Tamaki yelled, sitting up quickly in his bed. He sat up with sweat dripping down his forehead, his breathing was labored, and his eyes rapidly scanned around the room. "Just a dream," he sighed, rushing out of the lavish bed, speedily getting ready, and making his way down the grand stairs of his estate. 

"Morning, Master Tamaki," An older woman greets him. "Anything we can do for you?"

"I need to get going; please bring the car around the front at once," he told her, school bag in hand.

"Yes, of course, sir." The driver answered with a curt nod as he went to turn and move out the door.

"I beg your pardon, Master Tamaki, but what would you like for breakfast this morning?" The woman asked.

"I don't want any! I already told you I have to get going!" Tamaki whined, looking as if he were about to stomp his foot in defiance.

"Hold it right there, Master Tamaki! I can't let you leave the house like that. You're still wearing your pajama bottoms and your house slippers," Tamaki rushed upstairs at her comment, coming back down in the proper clothing.

"Thank you, Shima," he thanked, brushing away a strand of hair that got ruffled in the movement and his face a little red from embarrassment. "I'll be going now."

"I hate to be a bother, Master Tamaki, but today is Sunday," she informed. “You don't have to go to school today, sir."

"Oh,” He looked back at her defeat. “Well, why didn't you make me aware of the fact earlier?"

"As your maid, it's my duty to help you. However, I want you to become a fine gentleman. So, you must be able to recognize your own mistakes." She grabbed his back, starting to drag him off. "Since you suddenly have some free time on your hands, why don't we work on your manners?"

"But I have to make a call! Someone bring me a phone!" Tamaki frantically yelled. A maid rushed over with a rotary, which Tamaki quickly took from her grip, spinning around the digits. "Hey Kyoya, there's something I need to talk to you about.”

The weekend granted free time for the girls of the host club to congregate in the ways they wished. With the bright sun shining and heating their exposed skin, Haruhi and Y/n walked back from their venture at the supermarket with warmth in their hearts. It was a most enjoyable time for the wealthier girl, as she had never participated in it. They were chatting amongst themselves until Haruhi’s steps halted when something out of the ordinary came into view—a group of people swarming around some fancy cars. She took a few steps forward to catch a better glimpse, curiosity getting the best of her, and droned out the ramblings of Y/N. 

"Check out that car," a man mentioned, pointing out the obvious while a driver was opening the door to the back seat. To much surprise, some of the fellow host club members emerged. 

"Wow, so this is where Haruhi lives?" Kaoru spoke.

"It's pretty big, huh?" Hikaru added, as both of the twins were thoroughly impressed. 

"Look at all the rooms!" Honey jumped up and down, tugging on Mori’s hand. 

"This building is what you might call an aggregate commoner dwelling," Kyoya told them.

"So that means this isn't just hers?" Hikaru put together residing in a more comfortable and toned-down choice of clothing. Most of the boys wore tops without long sleeves, like Mori and Kyoya’s vest or Honey’s sailor shirt. Tamaki had a light yellow sweater on, and the twins were decked out in red and white tops. Overall, the uniforms were gone, and the street clothes fashion commenced. 

"Yes, her home is only one of these units," he confirmed.

"Kyoya! Why did you bring these idiots with?" Tamaki whined, now actually stomping his feet.

"Kyoya, it was just supposed to be you and me!”

"Well, you see, I knew you didn't dare to come here alone to see Y/n outside of a school setting, so I thought it'd be best if everyone came along," he explained. "Okay, let's all go home; I underestimated our great leader.”

"I'm sorry, don't leave," Tamaki apologized, putting his hands down in defeat.

There was still a bumbling crowd around the vehicles whispering different rumors about why they appeared and just who the host club were. Y/N, who was naturally curious, stopped her ramblings and began to venture to the crowd, taking in their reactions.

"Now don't you forget men!" Tamaki pulled the rest of the group over into a huddle. "This is a casual—we just happened to be in the neighborhood—type of visit. Y/n will be outraged if we disrespect Haruhi, and after all, Haruhi is a member of our club. We will do our best to be respectful and not judge them. Don't say shabby, cramped, and run down when referring to her home," Tamaki warned the group.

Though the girl in question had heard their whole conversation and was heating up with rage, she turned towards the boys and said, "It's too late; just leave!" At the sudden outburst, Y/n rushed over to her friend's side to see the rest of the host club in the distance.  

“Wow, everyone is here!" Y/n beamed, thrilled nature all over her features as she admired the appearances of all of her friends in the same place. 

Similar to fruitflies attracted to something sweet, the boys ventured over near the girls, Honey pushing himself closer to Y/n’s side as he cocked his head up. “You look pretty, N/n-chan!” Even the younger-natured boy could recognize a new spark in Y/n’s character with a new venue and be surrounded by those she cared for.

"Thank you, Honey-senpai," Y/n smiled down at the boy.

Haruhi tugged on Y/n’s wrist, pulling her closer to her. "Now the rest of you, get the hell out of here!"

"Haruhi's so mad, she cursed at us!" Tamaki exclaimed, jumping in fear.

"Was this not a coincidence?” Y/n cocked her head to the side, furrowed eyebrows. 

“No, they planned this without my permission,” Haruhi glanced over to the girl, cheeks a flamed red. Y/n immediately turned to the man of the hour—Tamaki—and watched as he shrieked, cowering behind the twin's frames in fear of upsetting Y/n. 

"Excuse me, Haruhi, but is everything alright?" An older woman went up to her, tapping her shoulder lightly.

"Hi, Miss Land-Lady.”

"These young men are driving such fancy, foreign cars; they're not Yakuza, are they?"

"No, they are not," Haruhi reassured her, shaking her head and stifling a little laugh at the insinuation.

"Do you want me to call the police for you?" She asked, whispering in Haruhi's ear. Tamaki bounced away from his place of hiding and gently placed the woman's palm into his grip.

"Pleased to meet you, madam. My name is Suou; I'm one of Haruhi's friends," he explained, almost sparkling in the sunlight.

"Really? My goodness, well, aren't you just adorable?" The landlady complimented, a total switch in her former demeanor as she was greeted with his presence up close.

"We're just stopping; we didn't mean to cause a scene. I'm sorry."

"Oh, it's no problem," she giggled, moving towards Haruhi. "I'll stop by later with snacks for you and your friends.”

With a loud sigh, Haruhi began the way up the steps leading to her home, an eager group trailing behind. Yet she halted at the door. "Okay, here's the deal; I'm only giving you guys a quick peak," Haruhi explained. “Today was meant to be time for just Y/n and "Today was meant to be time for just Y/N and me.”

"But look, I brought you a gift, Haru-chan!" Honey told her, holding up a box full of delicious sweets, all decorated differently and delicately.

“Those look very good,” Y/n turned towards Haruhi, who was entranced by the expensive goodies. “Maybe it would be fun for us all to be together." She quietly commented, glancing hopefully at her friend. 

"Fine, I guess I'll make some tea," Haruhi caved in, unlocking the door and gesturing the group inside her home.

"What a hovel," Hikaru commented, gaining a flick to the back of his head from Y/N. "Ow!"

"Be nice," She muttered back quietly, following Haruhi in.

"A wood-built two-bedroom unit—that's normal for a commoner family of two," Kyoya voiced, the group looking around the apartment in something mixed with awe and confusion.

"Haruhi's such a pipsqueak; at least we know she won't hit her head on the low ceilings," Kaoru noticed.

"Well, I think it's a super-cute little room!" Honey exclaimed.

"It's nice; I like your fridge color," Y/n admired, nodding repeatdly next to Honey as the two plastered on overexaggerated grins of happiness. 

"You don't have to struggle to compliment it," Haruhi grumbled.

"Hold on. Are we supposed to take off our shoes too?" Honey pointed to Haruhi's shoes that were by the door.

"Please, if you don't mind," she voiced, and the group followed, taking off their shoes.

"Thanks for inviting us in!" The fellow members thanked, walking over to the table.

"This place is quite unpleasant; I think I may have underestimated commoner housing. Okay, we are going to have to squeeze. Y/N, come by me and let's all put our knees to our chests," Tamaki commanded the group. Y/n scurried by the boy at his command, sitting next to him as Mori took up the space on her other side. It was clear that the larger group was cramped in the smaller room, all smushed against one another as Haruhi got the goodies prepared. 

"I'm going to go make us some tea," Haruhi told them as she walked over to her stove.

"Oh! Do you need help?" Y/n slowly stood up, squishing around with the group stuck at her side, but she was yanked back down by Mori pulling her. "Oh!"

"Hey. Here's an idea: why don't you make us this? It's black tea our father bought us as a souvenir from Africa, so try it," Hikaru suggested, and he pulled out the container magically from his side, passing it onto the host. 

"Mori-senpai, are you okay?" Y/n whispered over to him, but the boy just nodded, gently removing his arm away from her upper arm and going forth to look forward. 

"Um sure, no problem," Haruhi accepted the tea, moving over to her kitchen.

"It's best served as milk tea; do you have milk?" Kaoru inquired.

"I think, when was the last time that I bought some milk?" Haruhi thought to herself.

"Stop it; what the hell are you doing?" Tamaki yelled in a whisper. "Don't be so mean to her, you idiots!"

"What do you mean?" The twins asked.

"I know you're trying to embarrass her by asking for that African tea. Look! She has no idea how she's supposed to prepare it! We are trying to keep Y/n hap-" He quickly fake coughed. "Haruhi, trying to keep Haruhi happy and respect her."

"What if she doesn't even have a teapot?" Kaoru added.

"And she's too embarrassed to tell us that she doesn't!" Hikaru assumed. "I'm sorry, Haruhi; you don't have to go to all that trouble." He stuck out his hand, reaching for her.

"What? It's no trouble. Besides, I've already made it," she told him, finishing up pouring it.

"Man, that was a close one, boss," Kaoru sighed.

"We have been reduced by commoners' wisdom," Tamaki told the twins, whispering over to them on his other side, the three boys breathing a sigh of relief at the fact the tea was able to be created. 

"What do you mean, sir?" Hikaru asked.

"Nothing we know to be true in our world holds true here. We have to be careful how we react. One little off-handed remark could break Haruhi's heart, which would get Y/n upset and then break hers too. That means in this fight, the first person to embarrass Haruhi loses," Tamaki told them.

"Well guys, the tea is ready. I'm sorry that not all of the cups match," Haruhi apologized.

"Don't worry about it, Haruhi-chan," Y/n voiced. "I'll even have some tea," she told her.

"You're taking off your mask? Like right now? In front of all of us?" Tamaki started to fire off questions to her. Tamaki leaned in closer, to which Mori reacted by reaching in front of Y/n and pushing his shoulder away a bit in order to give Y/n some room.

"No, not fully.” She huffed quietly, some embarrassment sneaking up into her senses. “I can still cover my mouth with my hand when I'm about to take a sip or a bite of something," she explained, moving a little closer to Mori, away from the peering Tamaki.

"Go on, N/n-chan! You can choose your cake first!" Honey offered.

"I think I'll let Haruhi go first." Y/n looked towards her friend, pushing the box closer across the table. "You are letting us visit in your home.”

"Are you sure, Y/n?"

"Go on, we're rich; we eat this kind of stuff all the time," Kaoru (horribly) reassured her.

"I'll take this one then," She pointed to a vanilla piece with strawberries decorating the top, taking it on her plate and soon munching upon it.

"I'll take this chocolate one," Y/n giddily lifted it up, pushing her fork through the cake and swiftly bringing it to her lips. She used her other hand to pull down the mask and push it past her lips, all while still hiding it from the majority's view. "This is so good," she mumbled. The only ones who could catch a peak were Tamaki, who had already seen the view in its full motion, and Mori with lighter cheeks than normal. 

"She's so cute!" The twins and Tamaki commented, watching her eat and forgetting about themselves. For many club members, it was a great confusion as to why the mask was always a common appearance in her outfits, but one that Kyoya had warned them about in the beginning—a backstory lying within. 

"Here, Y/n, take this chocolate piece on top of my cake; you like chocolate, right?" Mori picked it up with his fork and placed it on her plate.

"Yeah, I do!" She looked happily at him, taking the piece and soon moving it towards her mouth. "Thank you, Mori-senpai," He just shrugged but moved over closer and rested an arm behind her, leaning on it as he took in the subtle views of Y/n’s lips munching onto the dessert. It was shocking to Mori how much seeing the oral part of one's face could totally make an appearance.

"Why didn't we think of that?" Hikaru yelled, anime tears falling from his, Kaoru, and Tamaki's eyes.

"I should have been sharing chocolate with her," Tamaki whined.

"Why'd we let him trick us?!" Kaoru wondered sadly.

"Eating all that cake sure wet my appetite," Honey sighed.

"Yeah, isn't it lunchtime about now?" Hikaru realized. 

"Well then, what's for lunch?" Four of the members asked the tired girl.

"Mori-senpai," Y/n nudged his shoulder a little, gaining his attention. "Do you think Haruhi is okay with all of us? I mean, this was all unannounced, and we are now asking her to do all these things; I don't want to upset my friend," she worried, looking at him.

"She's okay; you are a good friend. Don't worry," He patted her head once, the calloused fingers resting in the different buds of hair on the top of her head. His fingers ever so slightly nudged their way beneath the hair before a noise snapped him out of his thoughts. 

"Well, if that's what you want," Haruhi began. Mori speedily removed his hand from such a position and focused his attention back onto the table. "I do have a friend who runs a nice little sushi shop nearby. So I can just give him a call; his stuff is pretty high quality."

Tamaki looked at her weirdly, grabbing a piece of paper and scribbling on it soon enough, handing it to her with a very suspicious expression.

"Be careful, Haruhi; just because the sushi's packaging says 'premium' doesn't mean that it's high quality," she read out loud. "I'm not stupid; I could figure that out on my own." She turned to him.

"How could you do that to me? Daddy even tried to look casual and not embarrass you like Y/n would have wanted.” To which the girl mentioned just shared a glare with her friend. 

"I'd really like it if you made us something for lunch, Haru-chan," Honey voiced happily.

"No, Honey-senpai!" Hikaru yelled.

"How could you ask that of her?!" Kaoru added.

"Don't upset her; try to restrain yourself!" Tamaki commented.

"I guess I could whip something up, but it's going to take me some time," Haruhi told Honey.

"We can wait," Y/n piped up. "I can also help you cook; I know a few things." She mumbled, standing up but getting fingers wrapped around her wrist once again. "I promise i'm not that bad Mori-senpai," She laughed and he removed his fingers, watching her walk away. "It's the least I could do."

"Why didn't we think of that?" the twins whined.

"This means that we will be able to taste Y/n's cooking," Tamaki said.

"I'm going to have to go to the supermarket again," Haruhi sighed.

"We're coming with you!" The twins spoke.

"Me too, me too!" Honey agreed, Y/n nodding her head eagerly, now the whole group in a place where they were wanting to go with.

"Yay! Commoners' supermarket! Commoners' supermarket!"

"This is going to be fun!" Honey yelled, running after Mori as they began to pile out of the room. Yet quickly Haruhi noticed the disappearance of two prominent members. 

"Well, that's it, So much for having the day off." She peaked through the other room, seeing Y/n and Tamaki by her mother's shrine. "Hey senpai, Y/n, are you guys coming?"

"We are; I just thought it would be good to pay our respects," Y/n told her. "She's pretty, like you, Haruhi. I'll meet you outside." She stood up, going out of the apartment where the other members waited.

"Your mother, she seems smart," Tamaki turned towards Haruhi; nonetheless, with the different circumstances of the girl joining the group, friendships were flourishing all around and especially between the blonde and secret girl. 

"Yeah, she was a lawyer," Haruhi informed him, a small smile drifting onto her lips.

"I bet she was a great one, I can tell. Trust me, you can't fool these eyes, Haruhi." Tamaki spoke very softly, his once more energetic demeanor toned down to share respect toward an important woman in his friend's life. 

"I'm not so sure about that senpai," Haruhi deadpanned. "She really was a great lawyer.” And with her comment, the girl got up, waiting for Tamaki to walk out with her, but as soon as he stood, a mysterious banana peel came into view, where the male slipped, falling on top of Haruhi. His hands held up his upper frame, just looming over her as he took in her features for any injuries. 

"Are you okay Haruhi?"

"I'm fine, but you're kind of heavy," she huffed.

"I'm home, Haruhi! Hey, why'd you leave the door open?" Her father walked in, spinning around in their dress.

"Welcome home, dad," Haruhi muttered, her father's eyes laid on the man on top of their daughter. "So dad, how was work?" 

Tamaki started to freak out, his mind running with thoughts about how they would react, how Y/n would react, and that the man standing at the door was truly Haruhi's father.

Haruhi's father walked over, throwing Tamaki off into the wall. "I'm sorry, I hated having to leave you home alone last night. You must have been lonely,"

"That sound, he hit really hard," Haruhi’s eyes widened at the fear of her fathers strength and the undoubted pain her club mate must be in.

"Ah, my arm has been bothering me; I sure could use a cup of hot tea,"

"Hot tea? I'll get it for you. Haruhi, your father wants hot tea; do you use firewood to boil it?" Tamaki started to rush all around the place.

"Oh, look at that; I've seem to come across a little pest. Would you like to tell me why you're addressing my daughter with such informality, young man?" Haruhi's father questioned, yanking on the young man's shirt to pull him back near him.

"Hey, is everything okay here, boss?" Hikaru poked his head through the door, the rest of the club behind him.

"Check it out; the person we passed downstairs is Haruhi's father," Kaoru realized.

"Hikaru, Kaoru, help me out here," Tamaki begged, lying on the floor.

"It's nice to meet you, Haruhi's dad. We're good friends of your daughter's, the Hitachiin brothers," they introduced, stepping on Tamaki to reach the man.

"So you are a crossdresser, aren't you?" Kaoru questioned.

"You're the first real corssdresser we've ever seen!" Hikaru told them.

"Sorry about him; he's a lady's man, if you know what I mean."

"He's a pheromone machine. In fact, I bet he's fooled around with more ladies than you can count," Kaoru explained with great exclamation, both of the twins highlighting the negative behaviors of their club leader. 

"He likes to fool around, huh?" An irk mark appeared on Ranka's face.

"I'm not a lady's man! I don't like your daughter; I only like a different girl. I'm being completely honest here; I care about Haruhi like she's my own daughter, same with Y/n!" The man stood up, flaring his hands all about. It was clear to Haruhi’s father that the blonde was no true threat, and thus he retreated his more intimating demeanor with the other members. 

"I get it; you must be the host club I've heard so much about!" Haruhi's father realized. "You certainly are a fine-looking bunch of men and a very pretty woman." He turned to Y/n, pawing at her hair. "I'm not sure which of you men I like most; all of you just call me Ranka? It's the professional name I use."

"Professional name? You mean like a stage name?" Honey asked.

"Exactly like that, Mitsukuni," Ranka smiled at him.

"Hold on. How did you know my name, sir?"

"You two are third years, Haninozuka Mitzukuni and Morionzuka Takashi." Ranka looked towards them. "You twins are first years and so is Takahashi Y/n; you are in the same class as Haruhi as well."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't know you were Haruhi's father," Y/n apologized, bowing over and over in her seat. "You're so gorgeous and I was so inconsiderate; I should have done research to be prepared-"

"Don't worry, sweetie, I have heard a lot about you already!" She smiled.

"So Haruhi has told you about us?" Hikaru asked.

"No, just Takahashi, but Kyoya has told me about you two over the phone.”

"You truly are an amazing person, Ranka." The rest of the group looked oddly at this Kyoya, who plastered on a grateful grin. "We have been entrusted with the care of his special daughter; it's only natural that we introduce ourselves and give him periodic reports. Ordinarily that would be your job, wouldn't it?" Kyoya looked over at the shy Tamaki, who faced away—knees to his chest—from the others.

"I'm impressed the club has such a capable president!" Ranka admired. At the unknown notion that her father was communicating with Kyoya for a long period of time, his daughter jumped in anger at being left out of the light. She angrily packed up her purse and stood walking towards the door. "Haruhi, where are you going?"

"The supermarket, alright?" She rested her hand at the doorknob and looked back at Y/n. "I have to go shopping; Y/n is coming with, and the rest of you will stay here; try to behave yourselves.”

Y/n jumped up, waving goodbye to the group and rushing after Haruhi.

"Thank you, Haruhi!" She thanked, a small blush appearing on the said girl's cheeks.

"It-it's nothing; let's just get going." She stuttered, taking Y/n's hand and dragging her out of the door.

"Wait! We wanted to go to a commoners supermarket," Hikaru called out.

"I wouldn't bother; once she has made her mind up, she'll never change it!" Ranka lightly chuckled. She then explained how Haruhi has made most of the decisions on her own, like when she transferred to Ouran High School.

"I hope you boys know I'm thankful for you, and Y/n, since she met you, she seems happier. She's enjoying herself; wouldn't you think so, Suou Tamaki?" Ranka turned to the boy, who was now in a closet, basking in his sadness as mushrooms popped up around. 

"You know who I am?"

"Of course, I've heard a thing or two about when Haruhi was trying to get Y/n to join the group," Ranka smiled. "You're the one that didn't realize Haruhi was a girl until the last moment. You're clueless, aren't you? Pretty pathetic. Now that we've gotten all the introductions out of the way, how would you boys like to have a little fun?"

"Why didn't he tell me? I had no idea Kyoya-senpai has been calling my dad and giving him updates," Haruhi expressed tiredly.

"He might have felt it was important, I mean, he just wants to be involved in your life, it's easy to tell how much he loves you." Y/n patted her shoulder and then pulled her into a side hug. "You have to admit you're an independent person; it's not a bad thing, but sometimes other people want in too.”

"Yeah," she grinned, looking at Y/n. "You're also independent yourself, you know? Worse than me." She nudged her shoulder back, causing Y/n to laugh.

The rest of the Host Club members stayed back with Ranka, all sneakily looking at Y/n and Haruhi. Ranka wore a long coat, glasses, and a scarf to better hide their appearance as the rest of the boys followed along, hiding behind different objects and podiums.

"So we're going to follow them to the supermarket?" The twins questioned.

"This is what you meant by 'fun'?" Kyoya asked.

"Yes! I call it the stalking game." She threw them back a thumbs up, covering her face at the moment.

"What an attractive group of young men!" A woman whispered to another.

"In all honesty, I have a completely selfish reason for bringing you out with me. I want to be seen with a bunch of cute boys!" Ranka exclaimed, taking her glasses off and showing off her face.

At the supermarket, they watched Haruhi look at vegetables with Y/n at her side.

"OO! Haruhi, what about these vegetables?" She held up some lettuce. "Do you need this? Wait,  it doesn't look as nice as the lettuce in the salads at my home." Y/n stuck a finger to her chin, looking at the vegetable oddly.

"I doubt it is; yours is most likely grown in your garden," Haruhi laughed. "I could still use it for something else; feel free to put it in the basket."

"Thank you, Haruhi! Shopping is kind of fun."

"You don't go shopping?"

"Nope, I've only been to a store a few times, including our journey here earlier today," Y/n told her, wandering off to look at some coffee and bringing it back. 

“Do you really think it is necessary to follow her around like this?” Tamaki and Ranka peeked out from behind an aisle filled with different canned goods. “Are you that worried about her?”

“As you know, Haruhi lost her mother at a young age, and afterwards she took on all of the chores and shopping by herself. I decided to start following her whenever she would leave the house; maybe I’m just being overprotective?” Ranka sighed, patting her cheeks in deep thought. “I worry about her all the time; I’m the only one who can protect her, you know? Either she does not know how to depend on others or refuses to. She’s always been so independent and so strong. And she has this uncanny ability to affect others without even realising it.”

“That’s true; I’ve seen it." The president stared off, agreeing with the parental figure. He watched the two girls, Y/n nudging along the shoulder of Haruhi as they giggled off about something. They were finding pure, simple enjoyment in the task, truly enjoying one another's company. 

The girls didn't notice Honey, who was being pushed by Mori in the back, or the twins looking around themselves. "Hey Tamaki-senpai, what are you doing here?" Y/n turned around to look at the man.

"I followed you guys here so I could carry your shopping basket; you know how Daddy loves accessories." He awkwardly chuckled, ripping the basket away from her hands.

"Tamaki! What should we make?" Y/n grabbed him, dragging him over to a new section. "Isn't it so amazing how this place is set up and all the foods?” The girl excitedly took a turn of her head back to her female friend, “Haruhi! Come over and look with us!”

He looked down at her, admiring her, quiet for a moment before snapping out of his thoughts and joining in the conversation. "Yeah, we should make a stewpot, ones with lots of meat but no chrysanthemums," Tamaki told them.

"Does that sound okay, Haruhi? I'll help you make it!" Y/n beamed, looking at Haruhi intently.

"That's fine.”

"Here, Tamaki, take some chrysanthemum! You're favorite!" Ranka put more into his bowl, piling it up on top of the stew. "Y/n, you adorable girl, take some extra meat!”

"Ah, thank you, Ranka!" She grinned cheerily underneath her mask. "We did a good job." Y/n looked over at Haruhi, lifting up a spoonful of some of the stew to her lips. 

"Yeah, we did,” a soft hum left the girls lips before opening them up wider to take in the tasteful flavors of the stew. Ranka looked at her daughter, engaging with the other girl happily. It was clear that a certain host member of the group brought out more vibrant emotions from their daughter, and to admire the simple experience between the two girls caused his soul to shine a little brighter. 

Ranka laughed to herself, picking up a spoonful from their own bowl, "Alright, Haruhi, dear, try some of mine!”

next chapter - Big Brother is a Prince!

[skyeslittlecorner]

Could I request any romantic headcanons for the Hades nobles? They just been stuck in my brain since Ch.5 and the current event, especially Glas and Foras 💜

They infect our brains like a plague and I have no intention of getting rid of them. Hades propaganda let's go! I like to write thematically, so how about spending some time with them before and during the ball at Hades?

Orias not included, because I have no idea how he will behave towards MC.

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

Together with Barbatos, you are to prepare the decorations. And no, you can't open all the windows and cover everything with roses. After a lively discussion, you came to the conclusion that rose petals, bouquets of flowers on columns and long ribbons would be decorative enough, but not extravagant. You stood on the ladder, pinning the folds of fabric under the silver flowers.

"None of this matters anyway." Barbatos spoke too melancholy for him.

"Why?"

"When you appear at the door, beautiful as the sun itself, all the decorations will fade in your light anyway. And since everything takes place in the evening, you will replace the real sun for us."

You fell off the ladder when you heard him. Literally. Luckily, the demon caught you with a wide smile as you covered your face with your hands with a groan. He smelled like a fresh meadow on a summer morning, and was just as radiant.

"You don't say things like that out of surprise!"

"If you keep falling into my arms like that, that's exactly what I'll be doing."

Even if you wanted to, you couldn't get mad at him.

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

Glasyalabolas is responsible for drinks and snacks. You had some bad feelings at first, but when you walked over the buffet, they all evaporated. You reached for the beautifully smelling punch. Before you grabbed the ladle, a large hand covered yours.

"It's not for you."

You turned on your heel, ready to be outraged, but then a mountain of a man placed a beautifully decorated glass of sweet-smelling wine in your hand.

"My queen should not drink the same as her subjects."

You raised your eyebrows in amusement. The wine was indeed surprisingly sweet, yet with a dry note.

"So what will your queen eat and drink at the party?"

"Let me present." He took you to a small table where the snacks looked surprisingly earthy. Emotion rose in your throat.

"Is this for me?"

"Only."

You took one of the macaroons and stood on your tiptoes to put it in the huge demon's mouth.

"So I'd like you to try them with me."

Only after the ball did you learn that everyone who drank the punch complained of an almond taste and stomach pain. The only thing that didn't taste suspicious was the snacks from the small table in the corner of the room...

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

The maids who were sent to help you get ready to go were finishing pinning up your hair and fixing your makeup when you heard a knock on the door. They mingled at your dressing table and left through the back door, whispering among themselves. They were nice, but you were a bit tired of all the preparations. Was all this really necessary?

"Please come in."

You saw the reflection of Foras entering in the mirror. Even though there's no loop around your neck, you've forgotten how to breathe. Instead of his usual uniform, he wore a formal suit, with a noose instead of a tie. You stood up to get a better look. And you saw there was delight on his face to rival yours.

"You look..." He couldn't find the words. He blinked, took your hand and leaned in to kiss it. "Perfect is too weak a word to describe you."

You no longer regret the time spent at the dressing table.

"You also."

"And lovely, too." He brushed a stray strand of hair from your forehead. "It's an honor to accompany you."

"Charmer."

You took his arm. His eyes said that he would rather stay here, keep you to himself and admire your beautiful appearance piece by piece, taking off your pins, jewelry, and finally your clothes, slowly, one by one, savoring each step. You felt the same way.

"I spent too much time getting ready to spoil it now. But once I show myself to the others, we can come back..."

"They don't deserve to look at you." It slipped out before he could stop himself.

You gripped his arm tighter, ran your fingers down his palm, along his long fingers and veins, and intertwined your hands. Even though you were both waiting for this ball, it suddenly started bothering you. All you needed was each other. But you both knew your responsibilities too well not to go.

[Pspsps, if you would like to see the continuation… ]

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

Leviathan is perfect, as is the entire celebration. But he only appeared for a moment, at the beginning, and you never saw him again. It took a while for you to slip out and find him in the tower of the palace, looking out the window at the feast in the market square. He liked this place. He saw everything that was happening around him, and at the same time he was not surrounded by people. With you, the slow music from the ballroom came through the open door.

"The King of Hades is perfect, right?"

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but at least he finally noticed you.

"There should be no doubt about it."

"I wondered if he could dance perfectly too."

He pulled away and stood straight, one hand on his back and the other outstretched towards you. "What a cheap move. If you wanted to dance, all you had to do was say so."

But despite his perfect posture, you saw that he couldn't help himself and looked you up and down. You accepted his hand, placing the other on his shoulder. The silk shirt was as soft to the touch as the muscles you felt beneath it.

"In a perfect scenario, the prince should be the one to ask the princess to dance, you know?"

"This is life, not a fairy tale. I am the king. And you are not allowed to dance with any of the princes."

You giggled, but then he pulled your waist tighter to him. The music, the darkness of the room, the laughter coming from the market square and, above all, the charming man who guided your steps made you have to disagree with him.

"That's right. It's not a fairy tale." You whispered, dancing so close that you rested your head on his chest. "That's much better."

And even though you couldn't see it, or that's why, Leviathan lifted the corners of his mouth as he held you in his arms.

[passivenovember]

The problem is, Steve doesn't ask Billy to be his boyfriend.

He tiptoes around it.

He calls Billy at midnight and begs him to come over because it's important, but Neil took the Camaro and Billy's stranded on Cherry Shit Street, so he slams the receiver down and goes to bed.

But the thing about a Harrington is they can't rub two braincells together, so he comes to get Billy, anyway.

And that's the problem. He climbs through Billy's window and bangs his head on the windscreen and once they're sure Neil's still snoring himself to death, Steve begs Billy to go out into the cold so they can watch Terminator on Steve's plasma screen. All big brown eyes and, I'll be good, I promise.

But it's midnight.

Billy goes, anyway.

And they've been doing this long enough that Billy shouldn't be surprised when they only make it ten minutes into When Harry Met Sally, fuckin' liar, and Steve's got his hand in Billy's pants.

They barely make it upstairs.

The problem is, Steve scrunches his nose when he comes inside of Billy, and they've been doing this long enough that Billy shouldn't get hot in the face over something like forgetting the condom.

But it turns out that fucking Steve is like that movie where the guy has to live the same day over and over again, only it's perfect. And Billy doesn't mind.

The problem is, he'd have to be dragged, kicking and screaming, away from this.

Steve makes a high, pretty noise in the back of his throat like always, and collapses on top of Billy like always, and says, panting so hard that he sucks a mouthful of Billy's neck, "You're amazing."

Which is different. Earnest. It stops Billy in his tracks to that warm, familiar afterglow.

"What?" Billy demands, suddenly terrified, but.

Steve's eyes sparkle, "I'm serious, Bill. You're. You're so perfect--"

"Get off of me," Billy says. Has to do something about this. Ruin the moment before it destroys his snow globe daydream.

Steve looks wounded. "Sorry," He says.

There's a lump in Billy's throat, like he caught Steve's whiny little noise, somehow, and he's trying to grow something from its wonder. Billy shoves gently at Steve's shoulders, "I have to piss," he says, so he doesn't break any hearts, and Steve pulls out.

Hissing while he does it. Smiling all dopey and soft when Billy gets out of bed and pulls a t-shirt on. He didn't check who's it was, so.

It's Steve's. It smells like him.

Steve lays back in bed with his fingers tucked under his sex-ruined brown mop and tracks the way the hem of his t-shirt flaps softly just below Billy's sack.

"Stop starting at me," Billy says.

"I'm not."

"Why are you smiling like that?"

"Nothing else in the room to look at," Steve shrugs. He reaches into the night stand and pulls away with a pack of cigarettes. His Nona's ashtray, cut from clay the shape of an apple core, just like always. "Thought you had to wiz?"

Billy goes to the bathroom.

He doesn't have to pee so he cleans himself up, instead, splashing water through his curls and using Steve's toothbrush to scrub the taste of cock from his back molars. Billy thinks that if they can forget the condom he can use the toothbrush. Eye for an eye, sorta thing.

When he gets back to Steve's room, Steve's asleep.

Which isn't normal, either.

It pisses Billy off because Steve didn't ask Billy to stay over even though Steve's the one who picked him up from his dad's house in the middle of the night.

Steve never asks. That's his problem.

So Billy snatches the book he started reading the last time he was stranded here from Steve's nightstand and tries not to jostle the mattress too much when he slips under the covers.

Steve's cute when he sleeps.

In the few times Billy's seen it, that never changes. Steve snores softly, barely ruffling the air around him, and he clings like a vine.

Billy tries not to smile and fails when Steve curls around him, his pretty brown eyes fluttering at the sound of Billy opening the book.

"You're reading?"

"That a problem? You're ready for round two?"

"No, I just--"

"If you don't want to fuck I'll just leave." Billy tosses the book onto the nightstand, smirking when warm, soft hands curl around his belly to keep him in place.

"I drove you, asshole."

"Then you'd better get your ass out of bed and get dressed. It's forty-degrees out and I'm not walking from your pink fucking palace all the way home to the shit shack."

Steve blinks at him, wide and owlish. "Are you referring to my cock at the pink palace?"

"Your house, dipshit," Billy laughs, loud and sudden, from the pit of his belly. It feels good. Steve's fingers poke and prod and him, and that feels better.

Big brown eyes search him. "Stay with me."

Billy shouldn't. "No," He says, just to be difficult.

"Why not?"

"I have to be up early tomorrow."

"Move in with me," Steve says, tugging and pulling until Billy falls onto the mattress next to him. "Stay here forever, you can sleep in and I'll make you breakfast if you promise to be nice."

His fingers trace the curve of Billy's jaw. Billy wants to bite him, so he does, sucking on Steve's wrist to see if the skin will fall away.

"Ow," Steve snaps, watching him, "You're so mean to me."

Billy spits his palm out. "You love it."

"I love you," Steve says. Easy like summer days.

Billy's stomach flattens itself, pushing down into his spine until it feels like he's being pulled through the mattress, and the floor, down into the darkness of the Earth. "Is that what was so important? You had to drag me out of my bed just to tell me--"

"Your bed sucks. You sleep so much better here."

"I've never slept here, before."

"You are. Tonight. Every night after that, too," Steve wets his lips, eyes sparkling. "Say something, Billy."

Billy sits, breathing until the heavy feeling in his stomach evens out. "You never ask me what I want," Billy tells the wall. "You never do, you always just tell me what's going to happen. Why do you do that?"

"Because if I give you a chance, you might say no."

Billy looks back, his heart ramming into his ribs at the soft, sweet look on Steve's face.

It's ridiculous, what those eyes do to him. That mouth. Billy wants to kiss him. It's a sharp, familiar feeling that's brand new every time. So intense.

"You piss me off," Billy says.

"I love you," Steve's still propped on one arm, easy as pie, staring at him. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to hurt you--"

"So, what?" Billy snaps, suddenly furious. "You love me--"

"--and you love me--"

"Harrington," Billy smiles in spite of himself and it hurts. Like the way healing bones do. He scrubs a hand across his face and tucks back onto the mattress, frowning when Steve doesn't settle with him.

They stare at each other.

They think about how long they've been doing this, and all the ways they fit together perfectly and all the ways they almost do.

Finally, Billy sighs. "So I love you and you love me, and what? We're together, now?"

"We already were."

"Could've fooled me."

"You're my boyfriend," Steve says, soft and full of wonder. He kisses the corner of Billy's mouth, "You don't get to say no. I love you."

"Fine," Billy says, red-faced. "Can we go to bed, now? Dick."

"Yeah, let's go to bed." Steve says.

And.

This whole problem. It's not so bad.

[hyperfixatingonfoolishthings]

Tiptoe... Though the window

By the window... That is where I'll be

Come tiptoe through the tulips with me~

*WACK!*

Filename_1 : "Ühh..."

(in case you can't read it ↓ .)

(why do I feel like I'm about to get hit in the head by engineers guitar by that one kid who brought those annoying ahh monsters, one of which made my hat gay?)

*mission impossible music*

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

omg i loved the gavriel x reader where she’s rowans sister. are you planning a part 2, and if you are could there be a scene where rowan and reader talk it out and rowan accepts them❤️

Previous part

To keep your heart

Rowan ignored you. Ever since the little tassel with Gavriel, you had barely seen him around. You sensed him in the house but he was never there in flesh. Never there for you to find. You tried to claw at the sibling bond you two shared. Tried to plead with him. To just listen. To let you explain. You knew that he loved you. You two were inseparable. He had lost and sacrificed so much just for you. But so had you and you never thought that he out of everyone would hold that against you.

Gavriel had returned only to find you sat by the window, where you usually spend your time these days. Head resting on your palm. Eyes so dull it hunted him even in his sleep.

He felt so guilty. He felt so guilty his words failed him most days. You had wilted right in front of his eyes. If only he had been smarter. If only he had thought all of it through.

Gavriel touched your shoulder gently, hopeful eyes looking back up at him immediately. It broke his heart to shake his head. Because by now he knew what this silent question implied. Did you see him? Have you talked it through? Your shoulders slumped. "I'm so sorry, my love", Gavriel took both of your hands into his, kneeling in front of you. "I don't blame you", you breathed out, "I just miss him... Wish he would listen". You leaned your head onto your mate's shoulder.

You had waved them all goodbye. They didn't say where exactly they were going. But then most of their tasks were kept away from you for your safety. You had lingered in Gavriel's embrace. Rested your head against his chest, trying to memorize the way his heart drummed in his chest. You watched them till their shadows faded in the distance. Smiling every time you felt Gavriel gently pulling at the mating bond.

You had dozed off in the living room after your daily chores. Book long forgotten. Right until an unfamiliar soul made you jolt. You quickly jumped up. Hoping it was just all in your dream but then the sound echoed once more. You reached for a candle holder. Slowly tiptoeing to the kitchen where the sound was coming from. Just your posture relaxed once you've seen a familiar set of white hair.

"So, you run off like a baby but come back to eat the food I made", Rowan jumped slightly as he turned to you, only to find you with your hands crossed over your chest. "It's my home too", he muttered. "I've been worried, you know", you breathed out, stepping closer to your brother. "Should have worried before you jumped into the bed with Gavriel of all the males", his words stung deep, making you clench your jaw.

"You'd preferred I've let some drunken bastard from the tavern bed me?", you snarled back at him. Tug in your chest making you halts slightly, but you shoved the feeling of Gavriel away. "A bond snapped, Ro. I found my equal and you... you're doing this", your voice was so small now as you spoke. My eyes welled up with tears. Rowan closed his eyes for a moment, "You are the only... This puts you in so much danger", he muttered. You knew where that came from. The fear of Maeve. You had become a toy she could now use to get to both of them. Gavriel had lost sleep over this for nights after the bond had snapped.

"That's my burden to bear", you stated, "I'll live with that but I don't want to live without you by my side", this struck something in Rowan. Guilt sparked his eyes before he said, "Does he treat you well? You feel happy with him?"

Your brother reached for your hands, squeezing them as you nodded, "I've never been happier...", you admitted. Rowan bowed his head, "I'll still challenge him to a fight", "Rowan...", you growled. "Males are territorial. You are a part of my family, I need to protect you", he stated blankly. "Oh, you dramatic fea babies... Maker cursed us ladies by making you", you rolled your eyes at your brother.

He reached to wrap you up in his arms, and you clung to him, scared for this to only be a dream. You felt a more desperate pull in your chest. You rolled your eyes once more as yet another fea baby, pleaded for attention. You caressed the bond softly, smiling to yourself. Finally about to let yourself feel fully happy.

[tiramegtoons]

🎵“Tiptoe through the window

By the window, that is where I'll be,

Come tiptoe through the tulips with meee-HE-HEE!

Oh, tiptoe from the garden

By the garden of the willow tree

-HOO-HOO!

And tiptoe through the tulips with meEeEEe!”

[final-girl96]

Killer Geek Chapter Twelve

Next Day

When I woke up to the sun shining through the window. I felt a presence behind me and looked down to see an arm wrapped around my waist. I turned my head to see Randy sleeping behind me. I carefully picked his arm up and slowly slipped out of the bed and tiptoed out of the room. When I walked downstairs and into the kitchen I heard Casey talking to someone but couldn't hear the other person responding. It wasn't until I looked around the corner that I saw her on the phone in the kitchen.

“I can't just leave, Steve. I'll see you when we come home tomorrow.” There was a long pause before she started speaking again. “I'm going to break up with him. But I can't do it right now while on this weekend trip.” Another pause, “I love you too.” My eyebrows shot up at those words that just came out of her mouth. So Casey was cheating on Stu. My best friend was cheating on my brother's best friend. How great. I stepped out from where I was hiding and cleared my throat.

Casey jumped and spun around. “Hey, mom, I have to go. Well, be home tomorrow sometime. Love you.” I raised my brows as she hung up. “Hey, yn. That was just my mom.” I held my hand up to stop her from talking. “You're cheating on Stu with Steve? As in, like Steve Orth?” Her mouth dropped open, and she stumbled over her words. “Please don't tell Stu! I was going to break up with him after this trip.”

“You better or I'll be forced to say something to him myself. Stu might be a little dumb sometimes, but he's still a good guy, and he does not deserve that shit. If you didn't want to be with him then you should have broken up with him.” She let out a sigh and looked down. “I know. I'm sorry, I'll tell him after this weekend.”

“Tell who what?” Stu came into the kitchen. He walked up behind Casey and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. “Nothing. It's not important just girl talk,” she said. He hummed and kissed the side of her head. “What's for breakfast?” He asked, going to the fridge. A few minutes later everyone else was walking down the stairs and into the kitchen as well.

The rest of the weekend went pretty smooth. We went swimming in the lake during the afternoon when it was warm out. Sat out by the fire at night, telling stories, and roasting marshmallows. We watched horror movies even though Sidney wasn't that big of a fan of them. Randy was in charge of bringing movies and of course most of them had Jamie Lee Curtis in them. It sucked when we had to pack the cars up and go home after making sure the cabin was cleaned up and all the doors and windows were locked.

The next day at school I saw Casey walking down the hall with Steve Orth, his arm slung around her shoulders. She had his Leatherman jacket on, the sleeves bunched up, and the bottom hanging past her waist. I shook my head and turned to open my locker. “Did you know?” I jumped at the sudden voice and turned to look to my left. Stu stood there, looking down the hall the way Casey went. “What?”

“Casey and Steve! Did you know she was cheating on me?” His blue eyes snapped to me, pain and anger flashing in them. “No. I mean, I heard her on the phone on Saturday. I told her she had to tell you. But hey, you can ask Tatum out now.” That put a smile on his face and he leaned against the lockers. “You're right. Now, what's going on with you and Meeks?” He asked, raising an eyebrow with a smirk growing on his stupid face. “What? No…nothings going on.”

He let out a laugh, “Oh, please, I see the way he looks at you. How you get nervous around him.” I scoffed and cast my attention back to my task of grabbing my books for the next class. “He doesn't look at me in any way.” Stu laughs again and Shakes his head. “He looks at you like he's undressing you. Definitely thinking about all the things he wants to do with you. Billy even sees it. He's Threatened Randy already because of it.”

I shook my head, closing my locker, and turning to face him. “That's ridiculous, Stu. He doesn't see me like that,” I said. “He kissed you! He definitely likes you.” He's not wrong, Randy did kiss me. But that doesn't mean he likes me. He could just be doing all this to try and get in my pants. I've seen him look at other girls. How he would rack his eyes over their bodies. They don't give him a chance though. They only see him as the film geek. The guy who knows everything about movies, especially horror movies.

“Whatever, Stu, I need to get to my next class.” I slammed my locker closed and walked to my next class. Of course, the whole class I couldn't focus. I was too busy overthinking about everything. The kiss. Randy asking me out on a date. Waking up next to him this weekend. Did he really like me? I'm a year younger than my brother and his friends. They're all juniors. I'm only a sophomore. I'm only sixteen, not old enough to date anyone in the eyes of my brother. I don't know if dad would even notice.

After school I went straight home, did my homework, and spent the rest of the time in my room until I got hungry. When I went downstairs Billy and Stu were at the kitchen table. They were talking about something but stopped when I walked into the room. “What're you two up to?” I asked, opening the fridge. “Nothing. Nothing that concerns you anyway,” Billy says. I rolled my eyes and pulled a soda out of the fridge, sat it on the counter, and grabbed a glass from the cabinet.

“Okay, sorry for interrupting you two finally admitting you're gay for each other.” I poured the soda into the glass and walked to pick up the phone on the counter to order something to be delivered. “Shut the fuck up! Go back to your room and stick your nose back in a book.” I opened the drawer in front of me and pulled takeout menus out.

“So defensive. What the hell do you lovers want? Chinese, pizza, burgers…” I look at them to see a red face Billy clenching his jaw and giving me a death glare. Stu was sitting there trying not to laugh at how defensive and pissy Billy got. “Burgers and fries It is. Did you ask Tatum out yet, Stu?” I asked, picking up the phone to dial the restaurant's number. “Have you admitted that Randy wants to bend you over and fuck you senseless?”

My eyes fly up to look at him, heat rising up my neck to my cheeks. “Shut the fuck up, Stu!” Billy and I say in unison. What an asshole. But to be honest I can't help but imagine such a scenario happening. Maybe being chased through the dark house only to be caught and at his mercy.

[cicimunson]

Ruin Me Part 6

Series Summary: Eddie is obsessed with you, but tries to hide it because he knows you’re a virgin and he doesn’t want to corrupt you or risk your friendship.

Chapter Summary: Eddie spends some time with you in your bedroom, you two have a conversation about where your relationship is going.

Characters/Pairing: Eddie Munson x Virgin Female Reader

Warnings: sexual situations, I don't wanna give too much away!

Word Count: Little over 2k

Need to catch up? Start with Part One

Eddie tells himself he shouldn't be here. He shouldn't be at your house in the middle of the night. He shouldn't be outside your window, debating on whether or not to knock and come inside. You're probably asleep, he tells himself, and he shouldn't bother you.

But he can't help it. He just can't.

He peers through your curtains, telling himself that he's just gonna check on you, make sure you're okay, and then he's gonna leave.

But when his eyes land on you in your bed, he knows he's not going anywhere.

You're on your stomach, sleep shirt pulled up, exposing your panties. He watches with fascination as you throw your head back, grinding on what he can only assume is one of your many stuffed animals.

His cock is instantly hard. He bites his lip to keep from groaning as you eagerly hump your toy, your hips rolling frantically as you whimper and chase your orgasm.

He doesn't know what will make him feel worse, continuing to watch you like a pervert or knocking on the window and disturbing your orgasm. All he knows is he definitely can't leave now.

You're moving even faster now, your face contorted in pleasure. For a moment, he's jealous. It should be him making you feel this good. Your orgasms should belong to him. Only him.

His eyes lock on your lips. You're mouthing something over and over, something that looks familiar, a word he should know. He realizes it's his name. You're humping your toy and moaning his name. The rush of blood to his dick leaves him light-headed.

He knocks.

At first you don't even hear the light tapping on your window, too wrapped in how good your teddy bear's nose feels pressing against your clit as you grind frantically. Your eyes are shut tightly, imagining it's Eddie underneath, pretending it's his thigh you're riding so hard it almost hurts.

"Eddie, make me cum, Eddie, please." You whimper out loud, rolling your hips in tight circles.

You hear the tapping this time and almost jump out of your skin, letting out a small shriek as you roll off the bed. The sound gets louder and you tiptoe to your window, peeking outside.

You sigh with relief when you see it's Eddie standing there, then groan as your cheeks burn with embarrassment. You open the window and Eddie stumbles inside, landing in a heap at your feet.

"How long were you outside my window?" You demand, trying desperately not to blush.

"Long enough." He teases, rising his feet.

"Oh, God." You cover your face, mortified.

He probably thinks I'm some kind of pervert, humping my teddy bear like that. I've never been more embarrassed in my life!

"You didn't get to finish, hmm?" He asks, tugging your hands away from your face. "My sweet girl didn't get to cum yet, did she?"

"Eddie, stop. I'm so embarrassed." You whine.

He takes your hand and leads you back to your bed, giving you a gentle shove.

"Go on, angel, finish up. I'll wait."

"It's fine, I don't need to-"

"Y/N. I want to see you finish." His tone is low, his face flushed with excitement and arousal. "Show me what you were doing."

You whimper softly, then straddle your bear once more. "I was, um, I was humping it like-"

"Don't tell me. Show me." He kneels behind you, giving your asscheek a light slap.

You start grinding once more, groaning as the pleasure starts to build up again.

Eddie wastes no time taking out his cock, and you let out a little yelp when you feel it against your ass.

"Relax, baby, not gonna hurt my angel, would never hurt you." He's already babbling, pulling down your panties and angling his cock between your folds. You tense up for a moment, thinking he's going to push inside you, but instead he adjusts himself so that his dick is lying lengthwise, and every time you slide backwards while grinding, his cockhead bumps your clit.

Eddie bites his lip and grips your hips, fighting the urge to bury himself in you. He wants you so badly, God, you're so perfect like this and you're soaking his cock. But you aren't ready. He's not ready.

"It feels so good." You whisper. "Eddie, more."

"My baby will take what she gets like a good girl. Don't get greedy, angel."

You whine and he slaps your ass, just enough to sting a little. "Hush. Keep rubbing on my dick."

You nod, tears springing up. "I'm sorry, please don't be mad."

His heart aches. "No, no, baby, never mad at you, I promise. I just wanna take my time with you, that's all."

"I love you." You moan. "Love you so much."

"I love you too, princess. My sweet angel."

You cry out and Eddie claps a hand over your mouth as your body spasms and you cum. He winces when you bite his hand, smacking your ass once more.

"What's gotten into my angel tonight?" He asks, removing his dick from your folds and flipping you on your back.

You lean up and kiss him. Eddie fumbles at first, surprised at your boldness, but kisses you back, nibbling on your bottom lip.

You slip a hand between the two of you and wrap it around his dick. Eddie gasps, breaking the kiss.

"What are you doing, angel?"

"You touch me, why can't I touch you?" You retort, stroking his length the way you'd seen him do it.

Eddie's hips jerks and his eyes nearly roll back in his head. "My baby shouldn't be acting like this. So bold. So shameful."

"You don't like it? Should I stop?" You start to pull your hand away but Eddie grabs it. 

"No, no, please don't stop." He groans. "Feels too good."

You guide him on his back and Eddie is powerless to stop you, his hips bucking frantically as he fucks your palm.

"Angel, please."

"I wanna taste you."

His eyes widen. "What? Baby, no."

"I want you."

He grunts, flexing into your hand over and over. "Y/N. Please."

You lean over and lick his cockhead.

"Fuck…" He hisses through clenched teeth.

You flick your tongue experimentally, the salty flavor unlike anything you've tasted before. 

"Should I stop?" You ask, your bravado slipping a bit.

"I'm gonna…baby…" Eddie groans as he erupts, shooting cum all over your face and chest.

You squeal, closing your eyes and leaning back as the hot creamy liquid splatters on you.

"Fuck, angel, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to lose control like that, forgive me, please." Eddie pulls his handkerchief out of his back pocket, swiping at the cum on your skin. "I'm so fucking sorry."

You whimper slightly. "I'm fine."

"No, no, that was so wrong of me. Fuck, baby, forgive me." He pleads.

You push his hand away. He watches in shock as you dip a finger in some of the cum on your chest, then stick your finger in your mouth, sucking.

"Oh God, look at you. What has gotten into you?" Eddie asks, tucking himself back into his pants and pulling you into his lap.

"You didn't like it?" You ask worriedly, your bottom lip quivering slightly.

His heart lurches. "I loved it angel, it was amazing, I promise. Just so out of character for you is all."

You shrug. "I just wanted to make you feel good too."

"You did, baby, you made me feel incredible."

"Then why don't you seem happy?"

"I am. I'm very happy with you. I just want to make sure you're okay with all this. I'd never want to make my baby uncomfortable or upset."

"I'm fine. Promise." But you aren't. There's still an ache between your legs and you know he's the only one that can satisfy it.

He rocks you in his lap, pressing gentle kisses to your forehead and cheeks.

You snuggle into him, eyes fluttering closed. "Can you stay for a bit?" You ask softly.

"Of course, princess."

"I love you." You mumble, falling asleep in his arms.

Eddie stays until the sun starts to come up, then reluctantly shifts you off his lap and onto the bed. He kisses your forehead gently, not wanting to wake you.

He starts to leave, his eyes falling on your stuffed bear as he turns. He grins to himself as he picks it up. Surely you won't mind if he borrows it for a day or two.

~~~~~

Monday morning you open your locker, surprised to see your teddy bear sitting on the top shelf with a folded note.

Borrowed him. <3 Eds

You pick up your bear and hug him, breathing in deep. It smells like weed and Eddie's aftershave now. He walks past you a few moments later, grinning when he sees you squeezing it. You make a show of kissing its nose and Eddie laughs out loud, confusing his friends that walk with him.

After school you're walking out of the double doors with a few classmates, chatting about homework and upcoming class projects. Eddie's van comes pulling up with a roar, windows down and music blaring. He glances out the window at you over his sunglasses, motioning for you to get in.

You ignore the shocked looks on your friends' faces as you hop in the passenger seat and kiss Eddie's cheek. He gives your friends a mocking salute and takes off out of the parking lot.

"Your place or mine, angel?"

"Yours."

Eddie strokes your thigh the entire drive, his hand never leaving your body. He pulls into his driveway a bit later, helping you out of the van. He squeezes your fingers gently, leading you into the trailer.

"Do you want a drink? Are you hungry?"

"I want you." You reply boldly, tugging him down the hall to his room.

Eddie chuckles. "My baby is getting greedy, isn't she?"

"We don't have to do anything. Just wanna be in your arms."

He grins. "Anything you want."

Ten minutes later you're tucked into Eddie's bed, his arms and legs wrapped around you. His hands roam your body, comforting gentle touches that relax you.

You reach up and smooth his curls off his forehead, kissing his temple. He smiles as you stroke his cheek.

"You're so beautiful, Eddie."

"No, that's all you, baby. Fucking perfect, you are." He slips a hand under your shirt, rubbing your back. "My perfect angel."

You kiss him gently. "I'm not perfect."

"In my eyes you are. So sweet and angelic." He coos, peppering your face with soft kisses.

"I love you, Eddie."

His heart swells. "I love you too, angel, love you so fucking much. Losing my mind over how much, ya know?"

"Can I ask something?"

"Anything, baby."

You blush, trying to get the words out.

"Are we…are we ever gonna go all the way?"

Eddie’s eyes widen. "Sweetheart…"

"I mean, that's where this is heading, right? I just wanna know if it's gonna be sooner rather than later." You blush deeper, not able to look at his face as you ask. But it's been weeks of this, touching and humping and tasting but nothing more and you want him so badly you ache. You need to know.

Eddie clears his throat. "You, um, you'd let me?"

"Obviously? I let you do anything you want to me. I was practically begging for it last night."

"You were caught up in the moment. You didn't know what you were asking for."

You frown. "I'm a virgin, not an idiot. I knew what I was asking for."

"I didn't say you were an idiot, baby. But your first time, it should be special. You deserve that. I don't know if I'll ever be good enough to take your virginity. I don't deserve you."

"That's not true. You're so sweet and good, Eddie. I see it. I don't care what anyone else says."

"Just give us some more time, angel. This isn't something you should rush into. I want you to be absolutely sure."

"I am."

He shakes his head. "Not really. But you will be."

You pout and Eddie laughs, kissing your bottom lip. "Soon, angel. I promise."

Tag List:

@e0509 @maddieluvseddie @micheledawn1975 @halialex1119 @munsonsgirl71 @iammeandonlyme @tlclick73 @erinsingalong @needylilgal022 @neewtmas @harrystylesandthegoobs @cancankiki @cal-is-not-on-branding @cltopp1999