#at some point they hear noises and decide the best thing to do is run to the next room and pretend to be passed out

[taeyongdoyoung]

chase and attract

summary: your best friend decides to fulfil yet another one of your freaky shared fantasies... pairing: chan x reader genre: smut, best friends to ??? warnings: cnc/primal play, chasing in a forest, public indecency but there are no witnesses, fingering, finger-sucking, doggystyle, unprotected sex, praise, degradation, reader wants to use the safeword but doesn't, reader experiences subdrop, insecurities, crying, aftercare, pet names, the word daddy is mentioned but after they're done having sex, discussion of future scenario 👀 author's note: hello hello, this is the second part of my wolf & bunny series, i think i'll write one more to tie up the loose ends 🤍 part one & part three word count: 1.7k

After a number of discussions and precautions, you and Chan are finally ready to embark on your next sexscapade. He's reassured you multiple times that he knows the forest well enough that you won't get lost and as a safety measure, he brought a compass and his phone. You purposefully leave yours in his car to further heighten the feeling of danger you two had in mind.

“Are you ready?” Chan asks you gently.

“Kinda. I'm really nervous, Chris,” you confess, your hands shaking in your lap as you are still sitting in the passenger seat.

“Remember that you can stop this at any moment, right?” he reminds you sweetly.

“I know that,” you sigh. “But I want this, I really do.”

“Okay, then, there's nothing to be nervous about. You know I'll keep you safe. Always, yeah?”

You nod, trusting him completely, despite how insane this whole thing might sound to a stranger. You are fully aware that Chan has your best interest at heart.

“I'll give you a five-minute headstart this time,” he sets the timer on his phone. “Ready, set...go!”

You dash out of his car faster than ever and speed through the forest. You've got this. Last time your stupid legs gave out due to being in a box for too long but now you've trained for this moment for a week and you feel confident enough that you'll have a blast. Sure, you know that the point of this game is for Chan to eventually catch you. And boy, do you look forward to that moment. But the more you run, the more your heart will jump out, the more thrilled you feel.

You begin to lose track of time as you go deeper and deeper into the forest. Have five minutes already passed? You don't hear Chan's footsteps so either he hasn't started chasing you yet or he's going in another direction. Whatever the explanation, you keep running even though you're beginning to lose your breath. How much longer? You still don't hear him and you are in desperate need of a break. You should have brought a bottle of water. But carrying something like that would only slow you down. You're thinking too much again. You just want him to catch you already and fuck you until you can no longer think. Truly the best feeling in the world.

Finally, you hear leaves rustling. You don't hear his voice but you know he's getting near. Shit, what if it's someone else? No, that can't be it. Chan made sure that people rarely walk this path and it would only be the two of you. Still, you're terrified at the thought of someone other than Chan catching you. The mere suggestion of that is enough to send speed to your muscles and make you faster.

But all good things must come to an end (or maybe the good things are just about to begin...) and you are engulfed by a pair of strong arms. Before you can react or try to fight your attacker off, he's pressing his hand against your mouth.

“Shhh, don't scream,” Chan's voice is both a comfort and a threat, sending mixed signals to your core.

“Mmpf,” you struggle to make some kind of noise but it comes out muffled against his rough hand.

“This will all be easier if you don’t fight it,” Chan says soothingly and you shake your head in disagreement.

He momentarily removes his hand from your lip.

“Please, somebody help me!” you scream loud enough to paint the scene more vividly but not loud enough to actually attract attention in case a stranger passes by some forest. Which honestly seems impossible at this point. Chan really picked a very secluded trail.

“No one’s gonna hear you, sweetheart. And even if they did, do you think they’d help you? Silly little bun, you brought this on yourself walking in the forest all alone, wearing this dress…”

Fuck, why is he so good at this? You try not to wonder if he’s had prior experience with such a scenario or he simply just has great imagination to come up with such lines.

“Please, don’t do this,” you pretend to be afraid as your best friend pushes you on your knees and situates himself behind you. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Why not? I’ll fuck you so good you’ll want to brag about it,” Chan chuckles coldly and sticks his thick fingers inside your pussy unexpectedly.

“Nnghh,” you cry out and are beginning to lose energy of all the running and no longer feel like faking it, letting out moans and whimpers of pleasure.

“See? You’re all wet for me, so obviously you’re enjoying it,” Chan gathers the evidence of your satisfaction with his fingers and pushes them into your mouth.

You don’t need an order to know what to do as you lick them clean of your arousal.

“Fuuuck, good girl,” Chan praises you and briefly breaks character, stroking your hair gently.

Oh, shit. You think you’re falling for your best friend. But such thoughts will only bring complications, especially in the current context, so you push them down as much as you can.

Chan makes sure you’re wet enough by mercilessly stroking your pussy and finally, fuck, sweet finally, enters you from behind with his cock.

“N-no, d-don’t do this,” you scream and try to escape his strong grasp but of course, it’s no use.

“Such a useless slut, only good for fucking and nothing more.”

The degrading words sting but you’re trying not to dwell on it too much.

“So fucking wet for a stranger. Disgusting,” he says.

Fuck, this hurts. Not the cock stretching you out to the fullest but what he’s saying. Is it really true?

You want to say the safeword. But you also don’t. By the time you make up your mind, Chan has already painted your walls white and you are also coming with a shudder, loudly and devastatingly.

You feel broken. Bad broken. You want to go home and cry and sleep and eat ice cream. What went wrong? You were having such a great time. So why are you suddenly having such dark thoughts? And not dark in the sexy way…

Chan picks you up gently and checks up on you.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, I just want to go home,” you respond briefly.

He nods, quietly wondering if he did something wrong or if he’s just imagining the sad, empty look in your pretty eyes.

Chan helps you walk back to his car and makes sure you drink water and cleans you up to the best of his abilities with some tissues he prepared in advance.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks again as he parks the car in front of you place. “You haven’t said a word during the whole ride. Usually you have funny stories to share and…”

“Gee, sorry for not always being the class clown, I guess,” you snap at him angrily with an eyeroll.

“Okay, don’t give me that attitude,” Chan scolds you gently but firmly. “If we want to do this healthily, you gotta communicate with me. If I did something wrong or if you felt uncomfortable at any point.”

You shake your head, still in denial.

“If you don’t wanna talk, I won’t force you. But you gotta remember that you mean the world to me, yeah? Even if these games end, I need to have my best friend in my life, am I clear?”

You blink and finally gather the courage to look at him.

“I’m sorry, Chris,” you admit and burst into tears.

He pulls you into a hug and pats your back.

“You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“Well, the truth is I wasn’t all that into it when you said that thing about me being useless, only good for fucking and disgusting,” you confess.

“Oh, babygirl, you know I don’t mean these things. I only said them ‘cause you mentioned you’re into degradation.”

“I was, I mean, I am, but for some reason, it really hurt me this time, sorry. I should have said. I just don’t want you to think poorly of me.”

“Alright, first of all, stop saying sorry, it’s completely normal to get caught up in it and feel insecure sometimes. As a dom, I should have been more careful and checked up on you more frequently. And second of all, please, remember that you are very smart, sweet, funny and not to mention incredibly beautiful so there is no way in hell I think lowly of you. Now, did you put that down in your pretty brain of yours?”

“Yes, sir,” you answer enthusiastically and your tears have dried up, instead a bright smile appears on your face. “Thanks for saying that. I guess I really needed to hear it.”

“You don’t have to thank me. Just next time if you happen feel like that, say the safeword and talk to me. About anything, I mean it.”

“You too, Chris. I know that’s particularly hard for you to open up but whatever you tell me, I would never judge you.”

“I know, babygirl,” Chan chuckles softly and does something that further confuses the already blurred lines of your friendship. He kisses you on the lips, deeply and sweetly. Not like how you kiss your best friend but how you kiss a lover.

“Do you want…to come inside?” you offer, not knowing what exactly, considering you just ended a very overwhelming scene.

Actually, you know what you want. You want him to hold you, to watch a dumb movie and eat popcorn together. You want…more than you can have.

“I gotta get some work done,” Chan says with a wince. “I’m really behind on stuff.”

“Is it…my fault?”

“No way. I just can’t stop thinking of…our games even when I’m supposed to be working,” he admits.

Phew. You’re glad he didn’t say he can’t stop thinking of you. If he had, you wouldn’t be able to let him go to work.

“Right. Same here,” you reply dumbly.

“If you need anything and I mean, anything, just give me a call or a text. I’ll keep my phone nearby.”

“You really shouldn’t, I’ll keep annoying you,” you mumble self-consciously.

Chan grips your hand and squeezes it comfortingly.

“You could never annoy me, okay?”

“Okay, daddy,” you say it playfully, eliciting a giggle out of his beautiful mouth.

“Do you have any particular wishes for…you know, next time?”

“I do, but it’s kinda mild compared to what we’ve done already,” you shrug. “Dunno if you’d be into it.”

“Name it and it’s yours,” Chan assures you.

“How do you feel about…fucking me while I’m asleep?”

To be continued…

[thecherrygod]

I think i dreamt something that was happening in a place that we partially a mall, farm, and motel, and with three killers (one guy two girls) that all worked at the same place bit that both just thought of each others as friends and also wanted to kill each other, do every time one went on a rampage the others had to join forces to survive, but usually all three of them ended up alive. The fights were very anime and very bloody, with knives and anything that had a sharp edge, and every time their fights ended they needed to send some sort of cleaning crew but also they were a bit dismissive like "yeah yeah this is a med de it'll be clean later" and would either sit down and eat or go have some smokes. By the end one of the girls actually killed the guy (after fighting in the hotel and mall parts of the building), the other one was sorta sad bit not really bc she also wanted to kill him even if they were all so tied together and actually cared for the others, so they also took a break later on and then i woke up

[seoulmatez]

— 𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝓀 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁 ౨ৎ

boothill x f!reader. 2k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ non-canon compliant ﾉ farmhand!boothill ﾉ injuries ﾉ pet names ( darlin', sweetheart, doll :3 ) ﾉ mentions of food

so i wrote about horse riding but. . . know very little about horse riding! i did my best to research but there may be some details i got wrong so apologies in advance!

previous part ౨ৎ masterlist ౨ৎ next part

“that’s it, pretty girl, nice and easy.”

the horse beneath you sighs and you do the same, relaxation and contentment in the breath you let go of. it’s been a while since you’ve gone riding, a few years at least, but being sat on a saddle with reins in your hands feels as natural as it used to when you’d ride nearly every day of the summer. you’re lucky that your favorite mare—clover—is still healthy enough to take out.

you gently squeeze your legs into clover’s sides in a silent signal for her to move from a trot to a canter. the sequence of her hoof beats effortlessly switches from the two-beat gait to one of three beats and her pace quickens. the wind against your face is stronger now but you welcome the sensation, a small smile making its way to your face.

as a kid, riding was fun and exciting more than anything else but as you’ve grown into an adult, the activity has become something more cathartic—a release of sorts. your stress slips away when you’re on the saddle, lost in the summery breeze. you don’t allow a second for the thoughts that constantly nag at you to linger. all of your focus is granted to clover and the field ahead, to how you feel here and now and how you wish you could feel like this all the time.

unfortunately for you, nothing lasts forever.

you hear the dog before you see her, barking discernible in the distance. clover must, too, her ears pointing back to listen more closely to the sound approaching from behind. as the barking grows louder, the horse’s neck tenses, and it only takes a second more for her to decide that the noise is worth investigating. you’re in alert mode now, too—no, it’s probably closer to panic mode. it’s been a while since you’ve had to worry about the horse getting spooked and even then you had your grandpa or parents to rely on to make sure nothing got out of hand.

you don’t have time to even think about what the right thing to do in this situation is before clover spots the dog bounding towards the both of you.

“clove—!” you try to calm her down, to let her know that the dog isn’t a threat that she should be scared of, but it’s far too late. before you can comprehend what’s happening, clover is rearing. the motion combined with your loose hold on the reins is enough to send you flying off the horse’s saddle. a scream is ripped from your throat and you squeeze your eyes shut at being in the air, destined to fall.

you hit the ground with an audible thud.

pain courses through your body—your back, your shoulders, your head. everything hurts and hot tears spring to the corners of your eyes but they pool there, refusing to stream down your cheeks. despite all the pain, the growing soreness, you find your mind wandering. where did clover run off to? what was the dog doing out here alone? she rarely leaves the house by herself. someone is yelling, they’re calling your name. is it boothill?

“shit, little lady,” he shakily breathes, “you okay?”

relief washes over you and for a short second, you think that you’ve never been happier to hear the farmhand’s voice. it’s tinged with concern, a characteristic you have yet to see him display—especially for you. it doesn’t stop in his voice either, you can feel it in how he takes a hold of your shoulders, his grip firm but not tight enough to cause you any unnecessary pain.

you take the risk of finally opening your eyes and instead of being met with the sun’s blinding rays, boothill’s face crowds your vision. his eyebrows are pulled together and for once, there’s no smirk or grin playing at his lips. upon seeing that you’re conscious, the tension in boothill’s forehead lessens. “there she is.”

his voice is soft, like if he speaks too loud he’ll break you. though it’s unlike him to be so mindful, you appreciate what you imagine is the temporary change. he opens his mouth to continue but before he can get another word out, the border collie, missy, nudges between the two of you as if she senses something is wrong. boothill shoos her away before turning his attention back to you. “you okay? what happened?”

you think back on the moments that led to this—you laid out on your back in the grass. “missy… i think she scared clover. she threw me off.”

that’s right, you have no idea where she went after being so startled or if she’s okay, at that.

“where is clover?” you dart up into a sitting position, palms against the grass. it’s a bad idea and you face the consequences of it immediately, head throbbing and the dull pain throughout your limbs becoming all the more noticeable. you suck in a sharp breath in response to the discomfort but realize that the pain you’re in doesn’t top your concern for the horse. “is she still around here? i need to go find her.”

“woah, woah, woah, hold your horses.” boothill frowns. he stands up and holds both of his hands out to help you do the same. for once, you don’t think about the underlying meaning of having your hands touch his, you just grab a hold and let him pull you up. you turn your head in every direction you can in search of clover, readying to pick any of them to start walking in. though, you can’t, not with the way boothill is holding your hands hostage. his gray eyes bore into yours. “you aren’t going anywhere but to the hospital.”

“what? no.” you shake your head and try to pull away but boothill doesn’t budge. the longer he holds onto you, the more aware you become of his touch—how warm his hands are and how, even though they’re rough and calloused, his palms are more comforting than you care to admit. “i don’t need a hospital. i’m fine.”

“listen darlin’, people who have just been thrown off horses ain’t known for their good judgment.” he squeezes your hands but then seems to think better of it, loosening his grip but continuing to hold them. he gets his message across though, with the hand squeeze and the almost desperate look in his eyes. you’ve never seen him so uneasy, heard him speak so seriously. his new demeanor has your feet glued to their spot on the ground and your gaze glued to his. “you’re going to the hospital.”

you’re rarely one to jump at the opportunity to agree with boothill but maybe he’s right. you’re running on adrenaline right now and your mind isn’t in the best place—you’re worried about the wrong things. and if the topic is important enough to have boothill practically pleading with you, you should take it just as seriously as he is.

“fine, i’ll go, but you need to find clover before we do.” that came off a little more demanding than you meant it to. you add, “please.”

he clicks his tongue and groans before telling you, “alright, i’ll find your damn horse.”

● ● ●

boothill is a man of his word and tracks down clover, putting her back in the stable before whisking you away to the hospital. the ride there feels like a visit to the doctor itself with the way the farmhand practically interrogates you about your symptoms. he’s concerned but can’t help but laugh when you tell him that he’s exacerbating any head trauma you may have sustained by making you think so hard.

despite your initial resistance to boothill’s insistence on going to the hospital, you’re thankful for his urging. turns out he was right to be worried—you got a concussion.

your helmet helped soften the blow but the physician who explained your diagnosis still recommended a few days off work to rest and recover. it’s not the best news to receive but considering things could have been much worse, you’re grateful to walk away with a relatively minor injury.

and if your doctor had any anxiety about you ignoring his advice, it was misplaced. because boothill has personally made it his responsibility to be sure you get better.

as soon as the two of you arrived back at the house, he steered you into the living room, sat you on the couch, and disappeared into the kitchen with a demand for you to stay put. you’re tempted to argue but your head hurts too much so you cross your arms instead, closing your eyes and resting your head on the couch cushion.

it doesn’t take long for him to return and his hands are full when he does—a glass of water in one, an orange precariously rolling on a plate in the other, and a bottle of pain medication tucked under one of his arms. he sets the drink and pills on the coffee table before plopping down on the couch beside you, the dip in the cushion enough to make you open your eyes.

upon grabbing your attention, boothill jerks his head in that direction. “take a couple of those.”

you sit up and unscrew the bottle, shaking out two of the pills and popping them in your mouth before taking a few sips of the water he grabbed for you. a beat of silence passes before you speak up. “you know, i could have done all this myself.”

“i’m sure you could have,” he tells you with a grin, hands busy peeling the skin from the orange. it’s still all in one piece. impressive, you think, but you aren’t surprised. it seems like boothill is good at everything he does. “just thought you might enjoy having me at your beck and call.”

you frown. what does he think you are? some princess who needs a servant? “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“nothin’, darlin’.” he slides the plate of peeled orange slices across the coffee table so you can eat them when you’re ready. he wipes his hands on his jeans before standing up and stuffing them in his pockets.

the farmhand is on his way to the door when he says, “i’m off, but holler for me if you need anything, sweetheart.” 

you never thought you’d see the day you would stop boothill from leaving.

“wait, before you go…” he stops and turns around, eyebrows slightly raised in silent question, urging you to go on. you had more courage to say what was on your mind when he wasn’t looking at you. though, you know it’s only right to let him know that you appreciate all he’s done for you today. so, you turn your gaze to the floor and let it spill out. “thank you for finding clover. and for taking me to the hospital. and for this.” you gesture to the fruit.

there’s a flash of sincerity that passes over his features before that annoying smile makes its way back to his lips. “so you can say thank you.”

you don’t know what kind of response you were expecting, but you should have seen this coming. it’s like he’s hardwired to tease you, even when you’re being genuine. “you can leave now, boothill.”

“yeah, yeah, i’ll get out of your hair.” in contradiction to his words, he stays put. and you can’t find it in you to be upset that he does because the humor has left his face, replaced by earnestness. “but you’re welcome, doll. it was really no trouble.”

he finally takes his leave and when you hear the door close, you let out a frustrated groan and lay your head back on the cushion. that nasty fall must have done more damage than you thought. why else would your heart be working overtime over a simple change of expression?

you shake your head to get rid of the unwelcome thoughts—thoughts of how generous and caring he actually might be—before you think better of the motion. it hurts your head and makes you wonder how long it’ll take before the pain pills kick in. they’ll probably work better if you have something on your stomach.

your eyes fall to the plate boothill left for you.

orange slices should do.

thank u for giving this a read! reblogs and comments are appreciated -`♡´-

[faeprincess777]

Summary: After a stressful week, you and Chan decide on a relaxing movie night, which turns into something more.

Chan x virgin!Reader

TW: afab reader, oral and fingering (f receiving), implied creampie, loss of virginity, slight choking, rough sex, reader is shy

It’s been a long week. Work has been running you ragged. From deadlines to meetings to presentations, you’ve barely been able to take the time to care for yourself. Something that your boyfriend, Chan, wasn’t too fond of.

Luckily, you were off the rest of the weekend, and Chan decided it was a perfect time to pamper and spoil you. Tonight, the plan is simple, order in and watch a movie. You both decided to re-watch the Deadpool movies since the new one will be out soon.

Since you cuddled up with Chan for your movie date night, he has been running his hand back and forth on the skin of your lower back, below your shirt. It makes it so hard to focus on the movie, and you find yourself fidgeting to get some friction where you needed it most.

You were a virgin and nervous as all hell. You’ve been in this position with Chan before, but you haven’t gone any further. You want to, but your nerves keep getting the best of you. What if you mess up? What if you don’t make him cum? How do you even bring it up?

Your brain is all over the place. The movie has pretty much become background noise for your thoughts.

By now, the food has been devoured, and the two of you are halfway through the second Deadpool movie. Chan can tell you aren’t fully paying attention to the movie, most likely still thinking about work. Little did he know that work was the last thing on your mind at the moment.

Chan really just wanted you to have a relaxing weekend after the week you’ve had. Luckily, he knows a few more ways to get you to relax.

He began letting his hands wander a bit more. Kneading and massaging your thigh, trying to get you to relax, but when he feels you tense even more, he begins to think he's made you uncomfortable.

“Baby? Are you okay? Am I making you uncomfortable?”

You can’t find it in you to answer, so you give a quick shake of your head. This causes Chan to raise his eyebrow, looking at you questioningly. He reaches for the remote and pauses the movie, sitting up to look at you properly.

“What’s going on? And don’t say nothing.” Chan pushes.

At that point, your cheeks are burning with embarrassment at getting caught in your dirty thoughts. You find yourself burying your face in his chest in an attempt to hide. This only worries Chan more. You're aren’t the type to hide things from him, so when you hesitate to tell him what was wrong, his mind thought of the worst-case scenario.

“Baby? You’re scaring me. Please tell me what’s wrong. Did I do something? If so I’m sorry, and I can fix it. I just need-” Chan rabbled. Hearing the worry and panic in his voice has you snapping your eyes to meet his, and you’re quick to reassure him.

"No! No, baby. It’s not you. I promise. You haven’t done anything wrong, and you have nothing to apologize for.” You say, quickly. Chan lets out the breath that he didn’t even know he was holding. Just relieved that he hadn’t upset you.

“Whew, good. But is there still something on your mind, right?” Chan asks.

Damn. You’ve been caught. Quickly, you try to think of a way out of this without embarrassing yourself. Chan, being as observant as always, notices this.

“Babygirl, you know you can tell me anything. If something is going on, I deserve to know so we can work through it.” Chan says softly. You know he’s right, but you still have no idea how to bring up the topic of sex. In that moment, your brain decided that the best way to tell Chan what had been plaguing your mind was to just blurt it out.

“I think I'm ready to have sex with you.” The words coming out so fast that you weren’t sure Chan even heard you. But he did. And he froze. Did he hear you right? Were you sure? What if he hurt you? His mind was racing just like yours moments ago.

You take Chan’s silence as apprehension and try to mend the awkward moment. “I-I mean, we don’t have to if you don’t want to. I shouldn’t have brought it up. I’m sorry if I made-” Your words have Chan snapping out of his daze, and he is quick to stop your rambling.

“No, baby girl. Don’t apologize. I was just shocked, that's all. I mean, are you sure? I don't want you to feel pressured or like we have to rush into anything. I'm okay with waiting.” Chan reassures you.

“I’m sure. I’ve been thinking of it for a while now, I just didn’t know how to bring it up.” You inform him. Chan stares at you, trying to find any hint of apprehension, but he finds none. After a brief moment, Chan leans in to kiss you. You welcome it, opening your mouth to allow Chan’s tongue to snake in.

Before long, the kiss turns passionate, and clothes are strewn across the apartment as you both make your way into the bedroom.

Chan has you pinned to the bed, peppering kisses down your body before settling between your legs.

“Can I taste you, baby?” Chan asks, looking up at you. You shyly nod your head. Your nerves are high. You worried you don’t taste good or you’ll mess up.

Chan could read your worries easily. Taking your hands in his and interlocking your fingers, he silently reassures you. You take a deep breath and nod your head again, telling him you're ready.

That was all the confirmation Chan needed to start eating you out like a mad man. He couldn’t get enough. You were so sweet. So perfect and the noises you were making were nearly enough to make him cum immediately.

It felt so fucking good. You could feel your high quickly approaching, pleasure drowning out your nerves. Your finger snake their way into Chan’s hair, trying pulling him even closer but resulting in a deep groan coming from Chan. That was enough to throw you over the edge.

Once Chan is pleased with how he’s prepped you, he pulls away and removes his fingers. He watches your pussy clench around nothing over and over before he gently rolls you onto your stomach.

Chan settles behind you, resting on the back of your thighs. "Ready, baby?" He asks. You give him a shy nod. "Okay. Deep breaths. Relax." He says calming as he starts to push in, slowly.

The stretch is painful, and you struggle to stay calm and relaxed. When Chan feels you tense up, he stops. "Shhhh, you're okay. Just relax." He says, soothing you.

He gives you a moment. Once he feels you relax again, he starts pushing in again. You put all of your energy into focusing on your breathing and trying to stay relaxed, but as the burn intensifies, you find yourself tensing again. Chan is quick to notice and pauses again. "Easy baby. You can take it. You just have to go slow. We're halfway there." He says calmly as he massages the tense muscles in your back.

Soon, you find yourself totally relaxed again. It's like his praises have put you under some sort of spell. You barely even notice that he's pushing in again. It isn't long before Chan finds himself buried to the hilt in your heat. You're so tight and warm around him. All he can do is groan as he tries to remain still. You, on the other hand, are completely overwhelmed by the fullness you feel.

It takes you a while to adjust, but Chan, being the gentleman he is, waits patiently. He just continues to massage away all your tension while whispering soft praises.

"See, I told you you'd be able to take it." He says, peppering light kisses down your neck and shoulder.

You move slightly, trying to get more comfortable and find yourself whimpering at the pain.

"It hurts." You whine to Chan. "I know, baby. It's okay. It's normal for it to hurt a little your first time. You're okay, I've got you." Chan says as he continues to layer kisses over your skin, trying to soothe you as well as ground himself. It's all he could do to not pound into you like a mad man.

After a short while, the pain begins to fizzle out. "Okay, I think you can move." You tell Chan, once again relaxing your body.

Slowly, Chan pulls out, and you find yourself hissing into the pillow. Chan just shooshes you as he slowly pushes back in. He repeats the motion, leaning over to take one of your hands in his as his other hand rests on your waist.

Once he feels you relax more underneath him and he hears your whimpers morph into moans, Chan picks up his pace a little.Pleasure begins to spark like electricity all over your body, but there is still a tinge of pain.

"How does it feel, baby?" Chan groans out. He is doing absolutely everything he can to keep a slow, steady pace for you, but he's slipping.

"It still hurts a little, but it's starting to feel good." You tell him honestly through whimpers and moans you fail to hide. He hates how you try to stay quiet but knows you're shy, and it's your first time, so he will let it slide for now. Chan leans in close, trailing kisses up your neck and to the sweet spot behind your ears. He lets out a deep groan as he feels you clench around him.

"Want me to make it feel even better?" He whispers in your ear. You fail to stop the moan that spills out of you as you eagerly nod your head, leaving a cocky smirk on Chan's face.

"Lift your hips a little." He demands, and you're quick to comply. The hand that was resting on your waist snakes its way down between your thighs and plays with your wetness, gently strumming your clit, leaving you gasping.

That did it. That broke him. He couldn't hold back anymore. "Say red if you want me to stop, okay." Chan says, clenching his jaw. You quickly nod, letting out a faint yes. Chan tucks his knees closer to your body before he begins bucking wildly into you.

The room is filled with the rapid sound of Chan's body connecting with yours and your louds moans that can no longer be contained. Chan was right. This feels amazing. You don't even know why you were so nervous to do this anymore.

Chan chants praises and groans, and he pounds you into the mattress. He keeps a constant and steady rhythm on your clit. It isn't long before he feels you clamping down on him with a scream of his name. It takes everything in him not to cum on the spot. He wants more, he needs you to come again.

He quickly pulls out, making you hiss, before flipping you on your back. He's back inside you, pounding away, before you even have a chance to comprehend the position change. Your eyes roll back in pleasure as you hook your feet around Chan's waist, trying to pull him deeper.

Chan lets out a growl as he snakes his hand up to your throat, squeezing ever so slightly. Your eyes widen as they meet his, grabbing hold of his wrist. He's watching you so intently, looking for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he's met with a look of total bliss on your face as you clench so hard you nearly push him out.

You're quickly approaching another high and Chan has no intention of slowing down until you cum again. Chan is close too, trying desperately to hold off, to finish with you. He's a babbling mess of praises and groans. You're so close to the edge, just needing another push to send you over. You use your other hand to cover your mouth as you feel like you want to scream in please. This pissed Chan off. He ripped your hand away and held it above your head.

"Don't do that. Let me hear how good I’m making you feel." Chan grunts. You comply, and you're sure there will be a noise complaint in the morning.

"F- Fuck, baby. You feel so good. You're gonna make me cum! Please, please baby. Cum with me. Cum." Chan babbles. That's all you needed to hurtle into a mind-numbing orgasm, taking Chan with you.

For a few minutes, the room is filled with the sound of your combined panting as you both can down from your highs. Chan slumps forward, releasing your throat and wrists and supports his weight on his elbows.

"Are you okay, baby? Did I hurt you?" Chan asks, loving tucking some hair behind your ear. You look at him with a tired smile. "No, baby. That was perfect. Thank you." Chan giggles."My pleasure, baby. Let's get you cleaned up, then we can cuddle."

He slowly pulls out you, and you both wince with the overstimulation. Chan tells you to stay put as he gets off the bed and heads into the bathroom. You hear the water running and wonder what he's doing.

Closing your eyes for a moment, you try to calm your rapid heartbeat and slow your breathing. You suddenly feel something warm and wet touch your inner thigh, making you jump. You open your eyes to find Chan wiping up the mess you've both made between your thighs with a warm cloth. Still so sensitive and now growing sore, you whimper in discomfort. Chan soothes you. "I know, baby, look at this mess. You did so well for me." Soon, you're all cleaned up. Chan throws the cloth in the hamper before tucking you under the blanket and crawling in next to you.

"I love you, Channie." You say tiredly. Chan can't help but giggle at how cute you are.

"I love you too, baby. Always."

[luverine]

Mothman x Reader

2.1k words // How mothman and you became mates. // 18+ // breeding and smells/pheromones // angst to smut

Every night you hear tapping on your window. You didn’t really think anything of it as you live in an old creaky house, it's bound to make some odd noises.

The tapping comes from your bedroom window only and it always happens quite late into the night. It appeared four or so months ago and is consistent.

You’re starting to have an uneasy feeling every time you go to sleep. You feel eyes on you and it sends cold pins down your spine.

“Maybe the house is haunted?…” You look around the room you've been sleeping in for the past nine months. Checking every crevice and crack, possibly getting a clue on this “haunting.” You bought it off an auction giving you no idea what the past was for this house.

You decide this is the night you’re going to stay up late and do a paranormal investigation in your own home. “I’m pretty sure this is how people die or become possessed.” You mutter pointing a finger on your lip in thought.

Preparing for the night you set up some candles and light them in your bedroom and bathroom attempting to create the perfect ambiance for a ghost.

The sun was coming down fast as winter was right around the corner. A chill runs through your body just on the idea of winter. Living in the woods wasn’t ideal but the small Victorian house with below par insulation was everything and more than what you wanted.

…

As the moon awakens into the night you make your way up the stairs to your bedroom. A thud can be heard when you reach the door. You tilt your head confused, opening the door you find nothing. The window untapped, sheets folded, hamper full. Nothing has changed, but the noises…

You uncover the bed sliding yourself into the sheets then reconverting yourself in the soft blankets you’ve stacked on your bed. Turning away from the window so only your back can be seen. You pretend to sleep, your breathing slows down and the blanket's warmth almost knocks you out immediately.

Fighting sleep for around an hour as comfort pulls you into its embrace. You hear it! The tapping on the window begins its three taps… pause… three taps.

You wait a few more moments listening to the slightly annoying rhythm before deciding it is investigation time.

You shuffle gently, switching to face the other side of the room. The window is to your face all you have to do is peek and see if there’s anything there. Or maybe the house just has a squeaky window?

You open one eye very slightly peeking through your eyelashes. There’s a silhouette but you can’t make out what it is. A ghost? Demon? Witch? You don’t know. The only thing you can do now is sleep or confront whatever is in front of you.

Of course you’re going to approach the silhouette. You jolt out of bed quickly. Scaring whatever was by your window. It disappeared in the blink of an eye.

You let out a sigh frustrated and lay back in bed this time actually falling asleep.

…

The morning after that silly attempt at an investigation. You ponder on what you could do to lure the thing to interact with you. Find out why it’s been tapping your window every night for the past few months.

You settle on opening your laptop and search for window tapping paranormals. Hoping this won’t be an original experience.

All you came across were ghost stories and clickbaity videos about “ghosts caught on camera.” You raise your eyebrows at these dense posts giving you no help, not even a hint of what’s happening.

…

The day has reached nightfall, it's pitch black outside and nearly midnight.

You’re going to do the same thing tonight. Catch the creature when you turn in your “sleep.” You aren’t confident in the plan but it’s the best you could come up with. Repetition works!

Except this time you open the window half ajar. The cold from the autumn night wafting a chill into your room. You lay in bed covered up in your cozy blankets lightly shivering waiting for the silhouettes tapping to begin.

…

Luan is nervous to approach your window. He doesn’t want you to see him. Uncertainty seizes him as your window is open. He knows it is cold. He freezes every night just to see you.

Swiftly Luan shimmies through the window into your room. It’s so cold… He tries his best to shut the window, unsure how to use some human technology.

Stepping close to your sleeping body he can feel the coolness radiate from you. This scared him you’re supposed to be warm. He chirps worryingly in a panic. What does he do? He can’t lose you!

Luan isn’t the warmest himself naturally but he’s desperate to warm you up. He moves the covers in a hurry sliding himself onto the bed and holding you against him.

He can’t believe this is real. He’s holding you! He can feel your heartbeat. You are perfect against him.

He caresses your face as you start warming up from the freezing temperature the room became.

You're at peace from the sensation of something rubbing your face. It's hard and fuzzy- wait what? You jolt sitting up on the bed, your whole body reacts to someone lying next to you.

“What”- You whisper out looking at the “thing” on your bed. A big dark creature with antennas, sharp long claw-like hands, and what appears to be wings tucked over the both of you.

The reaction you gave frightened Luan causing him to let out a scream. He scatters to the window trying to open it but of course the window doesn’t play in his cards right. It doesn’t open.

He hurriedly rushed himself to a corner cowering his wings shaking in anxiety. He already understands that you won’t love him. What was he thinking? Stray tears slip down his moony eyes.

Your heart beats fast out your chest. The creature is terrified and you feel bad… Trying to catch it for your own solace you didn’t even think about what the thing you’d find would feel or act.

Slowly you tiptoe through the room to where it is curled up in the corner. You go down on your knees once you are at arm's length of the creature.

You slowly shuffle closer to it tilting your head side to side in curiosity, your eyes traveling its frame. Luan flinches at how close you are to him. Your figure now radiates heat and he’s always cool.

Unmoving, the both of you familiarize yourselves with each other. The bedroom doesn’t feel so suffocating anymore as the uncomfortable atmosphere dimmed and breaths match.

You make the first move to feel it. Pulling your hand from under your knee you bring it up close to its face holding your hand out letting it know you aren’t dangerous.

It moves its chin onto your hand and rub your thumb on its soft fuzzy cheek. Inspecting the creature you see that it's dark skin is covered in short silky fur especially around its neck where it’s more thick.

Luan makes a vibrating sound from the affection his mate has gifted him. The moon has answered his prayers; she loves him as he loves her! His wings let out a small flutter in relief.

He shows you his hand just as you had done. Instead of holding your hand he holds on your other hand he moves your hand side-to-side turning it to get a good look at you. Your skin is smooth, flawed or unflawed he couldn’t care; your hand was so dandy compared to his it made him joyous at the thought of being your protector.

His contentment didn’t go unnoticed. He let out a chirp while he got a hold on you and began to twirl you around the room.

It made you giggle, the fear of the “monster” washing away at the affection you were receiving. It was somewhat bewildering at the way the creature was behaving but you had a fond feeling growing in your chest from the pure glee around you.

Luan was seeping in tenderness. You accepting his advances made him believe you agree to his courtship.

All the times he left rocks and small crystals at your doorstep, the stick trinkets left in your garden, the window tapping. The freezing nights outside your window waiting for you, praying to the moon. It was all worth it!

He had you and will never let go, nothing will separate the two of you.

…

As the night gets older, Luan can feel sleep creep on him. He knows you’ll wake soon and he doesn’t want you to leave him alone.

He holds on tightly to your warm frame. He's always so cold during this time of year there’s a fulfilling sense to finally have comfort after what felt tortuous to be complete.

Luan makes a faint grumbling noise as he lays his head down on a pillow your pheromones wash over the room. Every inch of him is swimming in the waves of you; it's intoxicating.

He grumbles again as he looks to where you are at rest. Liam’s head is light he wants you, his body begs him to act on his overcoming need to have you completely. He’s wary of how you will react to becoming one wholly.

Feeling claws rake through your hair, you wake from your dreamless sleep. The bewitching creature has its face tucked into your neck taking deep inhales ticking you. You let out soft laughter as you wipe the sleep from your eyes ready to begin the day.

Luan can’t resist no longer your voice enchants him. Your smell is intoxicating. He must have a taste. Luan opens his mouth on your neck and licks big stripes along your jugular.

You shutter at the feeling of its wet tongue on your neck practically devouring you. Letting out low mains and quiet giggles. You rest your hand on its fuzzy head playing with its feathery antenna as the alluring creature teases you.

Oh gods you’re playing with his antenna. Shaking in anticipation Luan runs his clawed hands on your body. Feeling every crevice. He plays with your nightshirt wanting to feel your skin against his.

You get where things are advancing and decide to reward the mesmerizing being by letting go of its antenna and pulling off your shirt where nothing but your breasts lies underneath.

He’s never seen anything like this before… Spending his whole life searching for his mate gave him no time for curiosities. The buds on your mounds intrigued him, the soft yet subtle sharpness to you. Luan poked and prodded with your breast learning and loving how sensitive and reactive you are to his little taunts.

When he’s done playing with you Luan decides to taste your poor nipples now red and swollen from his teasing. Swirling his tongue around one and the next going back and forth he finds it so enjoyable and delicious how warm and wanting you’ve gotten.

You are a mess and so little has been done, it's tongue doing wonders to you not even in your most sensitive spot yet you are soaked. “Please I need you badly!” Begging for a release as the creature has put you on edge.

Luan knows exactly what you’re asking and he won’t say no. He tears your wet panties off of your hips leaving you as bare as him. He panting it’s too much his wings ruffle from the overwhelming feeling of lust.

You rub your hands up and down its arms and legs comforting the fair creature. It seemed almost nervous- well that’s what you thought until its slit between its legs opened revealing a dick hard, heavy, and leaking.

Luan let out a gutteral chirp as he pulled you into his lap ever so slowly pushing his cock deep into you filling every inch within you.

“Yes! You-“ Not being able to make complete sentences due to the pleasure rolling into your body so savory. You can’t make any sound other than moaning as you hold onto his shoulders. Occasionally brushing your fingers on his wings causing him to let out low squeaks.

Luan’s having trouble keeping at ease he feels his very being cry out from how intense the pleasure of you is. He feels his hot seed escaping him.

Letting out a whine Luan fills you with his love painting your womb white. You’re mostly incoherent as ecstasy is running through your hot veins.

Luan covers himself around you like a big teddy bear. Both of you are sweaty, flush, and sleepy. You hold onto the beauty the moon has blessed you with.

Luan looks out the window where it all started to see the silvery moon falling and the hot sun rising.

The moon answered his orison.

Likes, Comments, Reblogs appreciated ♥︎ Inbox open!

A/N: This took a MINUTE to write whew. Anyways I really like the way this turned out I didn’t really proof read it just edited it as I went, so sorry for any mistakes… Special thanks to Luan’s wife for the encouragement (you know who you are lol) Next up You and Luan’s babies!

Want more Luan? Here and here ♥︎

[inklessletter]

Since I can't draw tonight, here's a steddie prompt for you:

Steve runs away from home once he becomes eighteen because his home environment is absolutely toxic. It's all yelling, and spitting insults, and constantly hearing that he is such a disappointment, so he decides to hit the road and go some city away from everyone he knows and just start over. His trauma response to loud, aggressive spaces leads him to accept a job managing a school library.

And he finds out it is his dream job.

He sees all these teens studying, sharing glances, romances beginning, stress increasing as midterms come closer, annoyed faces, giggling girls gossiping, kids vandalizing his tables... And he feels an observant. A watcher.

And he imagines. He imagines their lives, the tall jock with the widest smile going soft for the sarcastic redhead. The quiet thing blossoming between tose two boys who give longing glances when the other is not looking. The oddest friendship between the meanest eleven year old he's ever met and the most cynical kid to ever set foot in that school. He sees and he imagines, but he's silent.

Because silence is a precious shield that protects his imagination. Silence will never hurt him.

His first real friendship begins in silence. This girl, Robin, passes him a note with a poor drawing of him falling asleep on his desk. It made him laugh. She laughed too. That was enough.

They play this game together in which they both exchanged the craziest theories they could think of about other people's lives.

That one is a Russian spy.

That one runs a secret lab.

That one has mind powers (okay, that was maybe too crazy).

That one is an former cop.

"That one is a rockstar," Robin said pointing an absurdly good looking guy that was checking out a couple of books.

"He does looks like one, though..."

Robin was going to reply when she noticed Steve's rosy cheeks. She just smiled. She noticed the guy looking briefly at them, and then he grinned.

"Metal is more my scene, but close enough," he said.

Shit.

The guy approached them and Robin, the traitor, bolted away. The guy, all dimples and soft hair lent Steve two books and his library card (Munson, Eddie), that he registered and gave back to him.

Steve tried hard not to be an awkward mess, he barely managed to.

"I do actually play in a band, uh, on Tuesdays," Eddie said. Steve looked at him with a twist in his stomach. "And today is Tuesday. So if you want to come, I would gladly buy you a drink."

Steve felt a lump in his throat, and looked down.

"Uh, I—I don't—"

"Oh, sorry, I just—"

"I don't do well with loud noises," Steve said quickly. "I'm sorry."

Eddie nodded.

"Good luck tonight," Steve said, not wanting to leave the conversation in a rejection. He pointed the book. "This one is really good."

"Have you read The Lord of the Rings?"

"Yeah," Steve smiled. "I've got time and silence here."

Eddie looked at him with something hidden in his pupils meant to be discovered by Steve.

Eddie left the library.

There were a few days and a lot of conversations with Robin about that Eddie guy. Steve let himself imagine again, about him. About Eddie. He fantasized a lot, ignoring deliberately the sting in his guts knowing that he blew up his chance.

Two weeks passed and Eddie was there to return the books again, with a small guitar case hanging in his back, and Steve tried his best not to look like a kicked puppy.

"I can do soft noises," Eddie said, out of the blue. It earned him a look from both Robin and Steve. "When do you, uh, have a break?"

"Right now," Robin chimed in, quickly. "He's having a break right now."

A few minutes later they were in the rooftop. They found a comfortable spot with the best views and Eddie took out an old and battered ukulele. Then he looked at Steve.

"I am not a silent person. I exist in noise, and busy environments, and awful high pitched laughs," he said with a smile. "I can't change that, but I can change the noise."

Eddie caressed the tiny guitar strings, and the sound sent goosebumps through all Steve's skin.

"I can change the noise for you," Eddie said, low and soft, and he started playing a song. "If you let me."

His first real love began with music.

[sunboki]

KOREA'S MOST WANTED (DEAD OR ALIVE) : SUNBOKI

🎥 : Christopher Bahng x fem. reader ( with hints of other attraction ((mainly 3racha cause im a whore)) no poly )

TROPE. non-idol au, criminal! au, enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, implied smut

WORD COUNT. 6.8k & 33 minute read

WARNINGS. smut, blood, guns/weapons, shoot-out, murder, mentions of drugs and poison, descriptive violence, suggestiveness, manipulation, death(not major characters), cursing

PLAYLIST

AUG'S NOTES. a weird spin to a not-quite mafia au but i love the lore.. enjoy. if you decide to read, feedback is always appreciated!!

SYNOPSIS. Eight notoriously wanted criminals work solo. They always have. Except when their dark work and concealed identities are put at risk, they find themselves with no other choice but to work together—and what better place to do so than the back fields of a house in the middle of nowhere? The location was ideal, until you open the doors of your grandparents barn and accidentally meet Korea’s most wanted.

or alternatively

In which stumbling in the wrong place at the wrong time leaves you face to face with some of the most-wanted criminals in all of South Korea.

CRIMINAL #0001 — BAHNG, CHRISTOPHER.

CRIMINAL RECORD

Christopher has been convicted of illegal weapon trafficking on eighteen counts of federal offenses. He is notoriously dangerous. Please proceed with caution.

⭑ REWARD

⎯ CRIMINAL FILES (additional cases)

The only thing illuminating your walk to the barn is your phone light and the hardly helpful moon peeking between heavy clouds.

You’ve done this a billion times, but tonight there’s just something ..unsettling. You can’t put your finger on it.

Shaking the thought from mind, you fiddle with the small lock hitched onto wide, dark red barn doors, untangling rusted chains like routine. That is, until you hear a sound. An unusual sound, an unnerving sound.

By that time you’d already pushed open the doors, and the weight of what sat in front of you—the weight of what was responsible for the sound—made you feel faint.

“Who.. Who are you people?”

Every October you visit your grandparents (or whenever your schedule isn’t jam-packed, but most often in October) when the leaves are deep orange and red, dappling gravel driveways and leaving the once abundant trees bare of their spring greenery.

The weather, though overcast in the autumn season, never stays gray for too long if you wake up early enough. Your grandpa taught you that, how to witness the early morning view before being covered by clouds.

On this occasion, however, you certainly didn’t plan on waking up early, especially not while rooming in your comfortable old bedroom.

Your grandparents house, despite being in the middle of nowhere, was so homey, so familiar. You’d be sure to soak up as much of this easiness as you could before returning back to life, savor the moments the best you could.

“Have you heard?” Your grandmother utters, fingers expertly dicing fruits, gaze glued to the TV.

“Grandma, I just got here, so no I haven’t heard anything,” You laugh, dragging your luggage through the hallway while the drone of the latest news feature serves as background noise. Probably another celebrity split-up, you assume.

Surely, considering the stubborn woman’s frantic waving once you come back into the living room, beckoning you to watch with her.

“Look! They’re wrecking havoc everywhere recently. Folks are calling them ‘Korea’s most wanted.’” Shaking her head repeatedly, she points at the screen displaying a churned building left to nothing but ash.

You hum absentmindedly, listening to the reporter talk.

“Using the title the media has given, this building, once a printing firm, has been dissolved into ashes overnight. The attack is said to have been the doing of ‘The Arsonist’, a member of one of the most wanted people on the radar…”

“If you run into one of them,” Having completely forgotten about the other presence in the room, you flinch. “Call your Grandma, I’ll swat ‘em over the head with my shovel.”

Gesturing with an imaginary shovel in hand, you can’t help but laugh at her silliness, quickly shaking the lingering thought away.

Korea’s most wanted here? Here’s probably the last place they’d show up, too busy massacring the big cities to care about this old house.

Resorting to scurrying onto a kitchen stool, you fill in the nosy old lady on what life has been like, how work has been treating you, and all the other nosy questions your grandmother thinks up slicing apples.

By the time you look out the window, the sky is almost fully dark, until a sudden flash of headlights tells the household grandpa’s back from work, hopping from his rickety blue pickup truck to greet you. 

There’s a smile gracing his wrinkled features, regarding you like you were still eight years old. He’s a man of few words, but when he speaks, everyone listens. Similarly, when he tells you he loves you—something he barely does—the moment, whatever it may be, is special.

Settling in for the night, you help wash dishes and insist the stoic woman takes a seat before she breaks her back leaning over the sink, which she rolls her eyes and ignores no less.

Not like you expected anything else, she’d wash these dishes till the end of time knowing her.

“Y/n, dear, would you mind making sure the barn lamp is shut off? I’m worried it’ll catch fire if I forget.”

Speaking of the end of time, you hadn’t stepped foot in the barn in what felt to be decades, too occupied with the house and town to remember that ramshackle building outside.

Of course you said yes, deciding this was a prime opportunity to not forget in the process of slipping on a sweater to help battle the cold, approaching the barely visible building.

You think you hear someone talking but choose to ignore it, pretending it was the wind or something along those lines. It’s autumn and you’re plenty far away from suburban areas, so most likely an animal lie responsible.

That was, until you pry open the barn doors.

Immediately, a stranger with cat-like features has a serrated dagger held to your throat.

Closing your eyes instinctively, you wait to feel the cold metal breaking skin, hesitantly cracking open an eye to meet the attacker’s chilling stare boring into the side of your face.

He takes a few seconds to exchanges glances with another in the dimly lit space then back to your stock-still frame. Briefly, you feel your phone get pulled from your pocket but don’t budge, worried one wrong movement would automatically have the cold metal slitting your throat.

“Walk. Make the slightest move and nobody finds your body, understood?”

Shakily, you nod, feebly inching forward before getting shoved onto the container your grandpa kept extra tools in, splinters piercing the back of your thighs.

Wonderingly, your eyes flicker to each stranger surrounding you. Counting eight in total, some taller, some shorter, you gulp, outnumbered by a large margin you’re sure would be nearly impossible trying to escape from.

Without exchanging a word, one of the shorter, more muscular men steps forward, seeming to inspect you. His rough grip finds your chin, jerking your head from side to side then up to meet his honeyed brown eyes. They’re surprisingly kind compared to his demeanor.

“She’s pretty. Might earn us a good penny if you want, Bahng. Ain’t that right, sweetheart?” Cocking his brows, you swiftly rip your head out of his hand, wrinkling your nose with disgust.

A frothing dread fills your gut, and you think for a moment letting that man with the dagger kill you off would’ve been a better doom.

“Hands off, Bin. If we wanted to get a price we need her to be in good condition.” A voice from behind this so-called “Bin” responds, and you feel the overwhelming urge to hurl.

They’re talking about selling you, like you’re not even human. A pretty porcelain object available at their disposal.

Good condition? You feel sick. You can’t see the man who replied, but you doubt it’d make your gut feel any more uncomfortable.

“Aw c’mon guys,” Another voice you finally spot to your right interjects, sporting chubbier cheeks and appearing quite out of place in this group. “You’re scaring her, go easy.”

Bin scoffs. “Should she be comfortable? We’re gonna kill her anyway, Jisung. Right, Bahng?”

God. Who is this Bahng guy that’s apparently in charge and why does “Bin” want you dead so badly? Didn’t he just call you pretty, or were you blacking out?

“..Right, Bahng?”

Bin falters, backing up as the face belonging to “Bahng” ushers him to the side.

Bahng, at least in the scarce lighting, is scarily handsome. Dyed hair nearly an auburn shade, a strong jaw, and calculating, dusky brown eyes that appear equally as kind as Bin’s.

You’ve learned to not trust the deceit.

Suddenly, a thought strikes.

Any minute now your grandparents will realize how long you’ve been gone and start to worry.

Your heart drops.

No. Don’t come here, stay in the house. No no no no.

Automatically, words stumble out of your mouth.

“Please- kill me, sell me, I don’t care. My grandparents- they’re gonna come here, I can’t have them here. If they find me here I... Please.” Chest rising and falling unevenly, you continuously glance at the door.

Waiting, waiting.

“Please spare them. I don’t want them to get hurt.”

He doesn’t blink, doesn’t make any expression apparent on that handsome face of his. Observing.

You’re a spectacle, an interesting one at that.

“And if I spare you, what do I get in return, hm?”

You’re caught off guard.

In return? What does he mean in return?

Think. Think. What the hell could someone like him want? He has enough money, you’re sure.

Fine. Make it broad.

“Anything. Anything, I promise.” Pleading, you anxiously shuffling atop the box, swearing to have heard the sound of moving outside. Somewhere behind the two of you someone chokes a laugh. You can’t find it in yourself to care.

Poking his tongue into his cheek thoughtfully, he eventually signals to the others before you’re being escorted through the back door by a not-so gentle Bin and a very much apologetic Jisung, sparing a glance back to the home you’d only seen for one day.

And if what Bin said about killing you was true, you wonder if you’ll ever see it again.

.. .

Ducking into one of the two cars parked directly behind the barn, you’re assigned the passenger seat, accompanied by Bahng who’s driving, Jisung, and a long-haired boy sitting beside him in the backseat.

They’re all strikingly beautiful opposed to the blood you’re sure has stained their hands, especially the one next to Jisung with features resembling that of a prince. Everything about him seems too elegant to do any harm. You know that’s a lie.

Mapping out your surroundings, you shuffle in the leather seat, waiting until all three men get situated to slam the door ajar and run. Second instinct, no thoughts, just survival.

You run, run and run as fast as you can while the thump of shoes echo behind you. Far away, you have to get away. Get away get away get aw— a force slams into you from behind and you go toppling down.

Gasping as the air mercilessly ripped from your lungs returns, your vision adjusts, squirming thanks to the identity keeping you still. Bahng has you trapped below him, breath labored, effortlessly intimidating.

“Let— go of me!” You yell, voice betraying the utter desperation overtaking every fiber of your being.

He holds you down, meeting your eyes without fail as you struggle and shout. Shouting and screaming so loud into the darkness in fact, that the man finally covers your mouth with a hand as you tremble, watery gaze fixated on his. Burning, venomous hatred.

“I’m afraid that isn’t an option, sweetness. So you either walk back to the car or I go through things the hard way. What will it be?”

He thumbs the sweaty strands of hair stuck to your forehead, hand finally pulling off your mouth.

Hypocrite.

“Fuck you.” You spit, and the man’s brows lift, lips pulled into an amused smile as he wipes his cheek.

“Hard way it is.”

Instantaneously, you’re hauled over his shoulder, not straining a bit despite the incessant kicking and pounding of your fists against his shoulder.

And just to prove how much he wholeheartedly deserved that fuck you, he made sure to lock the vehicle twice right in front of your face, receiving an equally as distasteful glare through the windshield in return.

The car ride was quiet, only interrupted by him asking if the air was too cold which you responded to with the middle finger. Jisung giggled.

Wee hours of morning peer through thick clouds, the road briefly illuminated by your headlights, corn stalks for miles lining either side. A barely palpable trace of life noticeable in a church’s steeple in the distance—once stark white, now stained and evidently aged.

Looking in the mirror, you locate the other vehicle tailing, assumed to be carrying the additional boys. Considering where your lone source of communication may be hidden (a.k.a your phone), you strain trying to spot it in your peripheral.

No use. Just you and this shit-hole of a situation.

Either way, what would you even say? “Please help me I’ve been kidnapped by eight of Korea’s most wanted criminals”? Yeah, they’ll definitely believe that.

There’s a hum from the prince-like man.

“This is the perfect place for a murder,” He speaks so nonchalantly, as if he referred to the weather and not killing someone.

Chills spread along your arms.

Jisung chuckles. “You’re right, no traces at all. Either way, even if someone did find them they’d likely already be rotten.”

You’re nauseous.

“Say, do you know how long it takes for a body to rot out here?” He asks, and your dizziness keeps you from realizing he’s referring to you, stomach threatening to spill all of its contents any second now.

And they expect you to know that?

Your silence leads to Jisung earning a smack from his backseat companion, scolding him hushedly.

Bahng stays quiet, one hand holding the wheel and the other splayed on the center console. Occasionally though you’ll see his eyes flit elsewhere, or maybe it’s your imagination.

Car eventually falling mute with a few passengers sleeping, you get close to doing the same before the harsh jerk of the car stirs everyone wide awake, clutching onto their seats.

You’d swerved into a small expanse of corn, wheels crushing the crops beneath them. Instantly the three reach under their seats, instinctively grabbing out pistols and pushing open the doors slowly, bodies crouched low.

Preparing to hide to the best of your ability, a hand on your arm keeps your movement at bay, discovered to belong to Bahng.

“Just keep in mind what Jisung said, by the time anyone finds you you’ll be rotted, pretty thing.” He sends you a sickeningly sweet smile, cocking the hammer of his gun and disappearing out the door where you hear someone shout: “I fucking knew we were being followed!” Prior to the loud ricochet of bullets being fired.

You duck down in the passenger seat, attempting to be as small and forgettable as possible out of sight. That is until a gunshot strikes the side of the car, narrowly bypassing where you’re curled up on the floorboard.

An involuntary scream escapes you, and your palm clamps over your mouth, shuddering and shaking like a leaf.

It’s a natural reaction, shrinking away, too horrified to act. So when your door is violently swung open, you prepare for the worst before recognizing Bin’s face, who legitimately rips you from the seat and drags you away.

Stopping beside a minimal clearing, you observe he isn’t carrying a weapon of any kind, a factor that makes your hopes slightly plummet. Granted, it’s not that you don’t think he’d be capable of defending himself (and you), but his fists against a gun didn’t sound too promising.

Swiftly instructed to not move, he races off, effectively tackling a man to the ground and leaving a pool of blood seeping where he lay.

Except, Bin abruptly evades your vision, leaving you to notice the prince-like boy in his stead, waving his arms and yelling something you strain to recognize.

“Behind you!” He had been shouting.

Your soul fills with dread.

In an instant you brace for impact, ears picking up the whirring of an object against the wind before the crack of a bat makes contact with your attackers head. The man goes down like a sack of bricks.

Bin, holding a nail embedded baseball bat propped on his shoulder, appeared just on time.

He had a streak of blood smeared across his cheek which you guessed belonged to someone else, and his knuckles lay bruised and torn despite the massive shit-eating grin slapped on his face.

“You alright, sweetheart?” He asks, voice hoarse and rough despite never looking more alive. It’s terrifying.

Shaken, you give yourself a once over, hurriedly shaking your head. He barks a laugh.

Gunshots eventually dying off, the nine of you regroup, some suffering minor injuries and others standing untouched.

Among them, the dagger-wielding criminal is one of the untouched. You’re not surprised.

Jisung is cussing wildly, leg ripped up pretty bad while leant against said dagger-wielding criminal, sending his counterpart a sour glare.

“Those motherfuckin’ assholes need ‘ta learn some fuckin’ manners..” Jisung spews curses, lips pulled up in a sneer as the others help him into the bullet-embedded car.

Reversing out of the densely packed foliage, no one dares say a word the entire rest of the drive, preoccupied with going back to their interrupted sleep or blankly gazing into the night.

The destination, appearing to be a company building by its exterior (and the lack of daylight), easily averages the size of an extreme warehouse. You curve into an enormous parking garage, every other space occupied by some multimillion dollar sports car.

Upon walking inside though, you’re left in the main entrance with Jisung while the remainder slip into a separate room.

His leg is bandaged thanks to “Jeongin”, whom, after briefly seeing them in brighter lighting, you guess is the youngest-looking one. Light hair and a smile you’re certain breaks all law-breaking guidelines.

Arrangement of chairs mimicking that of a doctor’s office, you guess the decorum is used to disguise what actually goes on here.

Clearing your throat, you debate on speaking about the question burning a hole through your skull.

“Why do you want me to live?”

Managing to haul himself backwards on a chair, Jisung shrugs.

“Why not? It’d be fun having someone other than those boneheads around.”

Typical Jisung reaction, you assume. This is the same dude bringing up murder like it’s a daily occurrence after all.

“Plus, we’re normally workin’ solo. Some circumstances forced us to work together.” He absentmindedly waved, and you bite the urge to ask about these so-called “circumstances”.

With Jisung, you can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or serious. You have a feeling asking him about it though would only lead to a response along the lines of: “Hey, it adds to the fun, right?” as if murder was a leisurely hobby.

You can’t help but feel baffled with how casually he talks about the additional men. Friends, as if they’re friends. Not like they would be, Jisung said it himself, “circumstances” pulled them together.

However, the danger they’d pose working as a team would be unreal. You didn’t even want to consider the possibility.

Goosebumps crawl upon your forearms.

"Y’know, I used to protect people like you." Han Jisung, whom you now recognized as The Arsonist, tilted his head to the side when he said that.

Strikingly beautiful, just like the others. Soft, round cheeks. Dark, soulful eyes and pursed, puffy lips.

You recall your grandmother telling you some of the prettiest flowers carry the most poison. Now it makes sense.

Blinking, you choose your words rather carefully.

This man, the one who upon first glance looks like he couldn’t harm a fly, burned down a printing firm yesterday. The same man alongside seven other notorious criminals discussing your fate.

Korea’s most wanted.

“Why’d you stop? Protecting people, I mean.” Coming out mumbled, you watch him click his tongue and change posture, not phased whatsoever.

It was a genuine question, considering whatever job he had before —if it came down to protecting— seemed to be something linked to the law. Unusual, for a criminal or his level.

“I got bored,” He yawned, lower lip jutting out.

Talk about a juxtaposition to his psychotic tendencies.

Bored. Han Jisung, The Arsonist, got bored of being a good guy.

It gave you a whole new perspective to insane.

“..You ask a bunch of questions, huh. I guess that makes sense since you might die- no! Not die- well, I’m not sure but- you’ll be fine!”

Wow Jisung. You seriously suck at convincing.

Oh how you wish your grandma would appear with her shovel right about now. Scratch that, you wish she would’ve swatted them over the head much earlier than now.

“Alright, but where will we keep her while Bahng decides on the cover up?” The seven go quiet, and if it wasn’t for the whirring of a fan overhead you would’ve guessed they were telepathically communicating, few sparing hasty glances at each other, waiting for someone to speak up.

Changbin was the one who asked, but he didn’t continue, nor even meet Bahng’s eyes despite his normal, boisterous behavior.

If there was one person they all had a running respect (and fear) of, it would be Bahng. He’d brought up the idea of working together, and he’d be the one leading in result.

Freckle Boy (the name The Hitman had came up with before learning Felix’s’ name) opens his mouth.

“I can—“

“She’ll stay with me.” Bahng interjects, and no one lifts a finger.

Changbin sees the blond’s pinched expression through his peripheral.

“But I have an extra—“

“You heard me, Felix. She stays with me,” He sternly repeats, and the younger deflates, mumbling something to himself after Hyunjin sends him a reassuring nod.

The atmosphere eased up slightly opposed to how suffocating it had been earlier, enough to where the men occupying their individual chairs took deep breaths of air they hadn’t know they’d been holding.

The door opens and they disperse in different directions while Bahng lags behind, speaking to Jeongin about something hushed.

You, on the other hand, are greeted with a rather sympathetic smile from the blond, telling you whatever they talked about wasn’t good.

From your right, Bin clears his throat, effectively giving you an unprecedented heart-attack.

“For the record, we weren’t planning to sell you.”

A grin grows on your face, taking this sweeter opportunity to pick some fun. You’re stuck here anyway, right?

“We weren’t? I think you were.”

He huffs, crossing muscular arms over his chest stubbornly. Behind him, a neighboring coffee-haired man snickers, earning Bin’s slap on the shoulder and a quiet “Yah.. Seungmin..” That completely sabotage any chance of taking him seriously.

“..I wasn’t.”

Mhm, definitely. Like the tips of his ears weren’t blood red.

The whiplash you’re getting from being treated you like a rag doll earlier becomes quite ironic.

Wasting time incessantly teasing the man, it’s not until he’s lead off by Bahng that you quiet down, awkwardly shifting your weight to either heel.

“..So?” You interrupt the silence, only given a jerk of Bahng’s head as a signal to follow. Talk about vague.

Overflowing with endless questions, he finally stops and turns to you, brows furrowed.

Attractive. My god he’s attractive.

“Would you just tell me where we’re-“You’re staying in my room for the time being.”

To say you felt shocked barely brushed the surface of your internal wasp nest, endlessly buzzing and swarming. His room? What the hell was that supposed to mean?

“I mean,” He notes, looking amused now. “Unless you plan on staying in the other rooms with cameras and giving security a show then—“

“Fine.”

Sending you a smug grin, it’s hard not feeling bewildered as he rounds a corner, revealing one, the fact that he has literal guards standing on either side of the double doors, and two, that his “room” is the short story of a penthouse.

Wow.

.. .

Turning off the ignition, Changbin stuffs the keys in his pocket upon slipping inside, scrunching his nose at the sight before him.

“Fuck dude, you’re a tank.” The man groans, eyeing Chris who’s currently doing handstand push-ups on wooden parallettes.

When Chris is nowhere to be found, he’s here, hidden away in this partially abandoned gymnastics studio on the outskirts of Incheon. Small, though with all materials intact.

Occasionally teenagers would come roaming around, having heard of hauntings and gruesome murders they want to stick their noses in. It’s plausible, sure, the murder part at least.

Changbin didn’t believe in hauntings, because no horrific spirit ever dared deter him from enjoying his job, over and over. He didn’t have remorse, he didn’t feel.

Life was easier that way, without emotion driving your decisions.

In fact, he can’t recall the last time being a hitman scared him. Call it crazy, but if you think about it in terms of “eliminating those that shouldn’t be there”, he’s doing the world a favor.

He wouldn’t tell Bahng that for many reasons.

“And your mouth is still as bad as usual.” The older says through gritted teeth, slowly lowering his legs, coated in a sheen of sweat that greasily muss strands of hair.

He barks a laugh. “‘Can’t fix it.”

“That’s for sure,” Chris responds, grabbing the towel The Hitman held out with a thankful pat on the back.

Arranging the equipment back into its designated places, Changbin leans against the doorframe, brows lifted curiously.

“She’s sleeping, if you’re wondering.”

Telepathically, the man answers his unspoken question, referring to you who he imagines is prettily slumped in Chris’ bed.

Prettily. Did he say prettily?

Forget it.

Unknown to both your name and whereabouts, you begrudgingly pull the comforter closer over your head, successfully blocking the sunlight for a few more minutes of sleep. Your entire body is sore, and a numbing buzz has settled in your head, drowning out any cognitive ability to think.

Well, the extra time is amazing until your bladder decides to sabotage you.

Blindly blundering off the mattress, you idly navigate around, blinking a foggy haze from your vision.

Step, step, and then thump! You slam right into something—someone.

Finally granted a clear view, you swear your brain short-circuited.

It’s Bahng, staring down at you with a towel wrapped around his neck while water droplets cling to his skin—to his chest—that you notice is quite bare at the moment.

“Christ— Jesus—“ Slapping a hand over your eyes, you take multiple strides backwards, feet stumbling prior to hands grasping your wrists.

Easing you up right, he kindly leads your sleep-consumed form into the bathroom, big hands momentarily maneuvering your hips to the side on his way out.

Effectively stalling his movements, you silently drag him back closer to you, thumbs reaching up to smoothing his deep eye-bags.

He freezes, words he planned to say cut off.

His eyelids flutter shut in contentment, and in those tender seconds, you stand there, palms delicately cupping his cheeks, relaxing the hard lines of his face whilst steam gives the mirror a bleary cast.

Any other situation and you would’ve admitted yourself into a psych ward, but the alarm clock on his nightstand reading 7:18AM told you whatever you did next was all a lucid dream.

“You don’t sleep much.. do you?” Softly mumbling, he hums against your touch, own hand holding yours against his face.

Bahng cracks a barely there smile.

“Hard sleeping when the world’s after you,” He comments, remark laced with humorless hilarity. You can’t say you disagree.

Although, most good things—all good things—end far too quickly. Because when Changbin bursts through the door, voice choked in his throat, you hesitate your movements.

“.. Just uh, wanted to say the car’s waiting- I mean, the car’s ready for you. Yeah. Bye.” Awkwardly shuffling, he made a direct beeline for the door.

Never in your life did you expect a Hitman to be so awkward. And not just a Hitman, thee Hitman, Bin. Who, although you’d never say it to his face, definitely stuttered.

Unfortunately forced to separate, you’re handed one of his jackets once you managed to convince Bahng to let you come along.

Taking the elevator to the parking garage, an assistant who (you assume) routinely fetches the keys to an otherworldly expensive Lamborghini bows low, greeting either of you with a mandatory please-don’t-hurt-me smile.

You don’t ask where you’re headed, knowing the answer would only lead to more questions instead.

Bahng’s like that, you’ve discovered. Unpredictable to everyone but himself. Private.

Alternatively, compared to what you had imagined (something like a shed or a slaughter-house), he pulled into the gravel driveway of an old home, wooden docks on the roof sticking in strange directions, evidently battered from years of storm turmoil.

Sporting a confused expression yourself, he steps from the scissor doors, ushering you to follow suit.

A bit out of place, you decided. It’s not every day you witness a Lamborghini parked in front of a house like this.

“We’re visiting my grandmother, I visit every week.” He announces, and you could’ve seriously bet money on how uncharacteristic that move was.

This man, the man who ran disappeared at ungodly hours of night with unknown intentions, the man who killed with no remorse, was visiting his grandmother.

First Bin and now Bahng. What a wild card.

Living up to the title, Bahng couldn’t have been more opposing to his usual demeanor, shrugging off his coat and shoes at the doorway and fixing Barley tea for the short woman residing in her rocking chair.

Struggling to unzip his jacket that’s massive size engulfs your frame, you curiously explore, noting the sheer normality.

No weapons, no apparent knowledge of Bahng’s illegal activity patterning the household.

In this house, it’s just a grandmother and her grandson. Not Bahng, but Chris.

The name sounds strange on your tongue.

She wholeheartedly welcomed you in, scolding him for his prominent scars and holding hands that had unforgivable violence wedged between fingernails.

Somehow, watching him felt like betrayal. And although you doubt his grandmother would love him any less despite the gruesome reality, to know so much occurred behind the scenes made things, well, uncomfortable.

You be sure to introduce yourself, spending a good hour and a half entertaining the wrinkled woman before bidding your farewells and returning to familiar stifling tension on the drive home.

Your piling conscious suggests you say something, but you second guess yourself, ultimately garnering the courage after many failed attempts of making small talk once you both returned back to his room.

He’s wearing glasses now, and you swear you’ve never seen someone so unbearably beautiful in your life. Hell, him merely breathing has any comprehensible phrase disappearing instantaneously.

“Have you told anyone about what you do?” You start, causing him to lean over from his place on the side of the mattress, fiddling with something on the nightstand.

You crane to hear his response.

“Sometimes it’s best to lie to keep both parties happy.”

…That’s a no.

“Then, Chris, would you rather be happy living a lie or sad knowing someone’s honest truth?”

Chris.

Though his real name, the words still sound foreign, especially aloud.

He seems to have felt the same, head snapping your direction.

Grinning.

“And what do you know about lying, sweetness?”

“It’s not what I know, it’s what you want to know.” You scoot closer to him, mimicking his cocky smile. “Here’s an example, would you be happy not knowing I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time, or sad hearing that I didn’t plan to tell you?”

A low chuckle.

“Did you learn the manipulation part from Minho?”

“Is it working?”

Eyes flickering back and forth from his lips to his eyes, you find yourself lingering centimeters apart, both intoxicated on each bated breath.

“A little bit,” He whispers, unwavering stare flickering to your parted lips before he pulls the glasses off his face and tilts his head to capture your lips.

You hastily climb onto the bed, fingers tangled in his tousled curls that peer from straight hair.

New, but not. As if you’ve kissed him all your life.

Working down your neck, his warm grip eases your legs apart, transitioning from kneading the flesh of your inner thighs to your ass.

“Oh— fuck.” You sigh out, delicious pressure applied right where you needed him most, stirring a deep wave of pleasure radiating throughout your entire body.

The Gunsman has you wrapped around his finger. A man whose power owns guards that stand in front of his seemingly normal door, a man whose power leaves you helplessly entangled in his every move, neck accessorized in his love bites.

Its wrong. Everything is hopelessly wrong.

You can’t get enough.

.. .

Index dragging across the fabric of sheets, your attention bursts alive, body jarring in a hold, someone else’s hold.

Bahng’s hold.

His head is tucked into your neck, arms hugging your bare back against his equally bare body. Bahng feels like comfort, home.

You never thought you’d be referring to a criminal when you said that.

Adjusting, you manage to roll over, admiring his ever kissable lips puckered in a pout, bed-hair forming strange shapes in the side of his pillow before mesmerizing brown eyes begin fluttering open.

Quickly rolling back around, you attempt at pretending to be asleep to no avail, because Bahng buries his face closer to the nape of your neck, sighing a lengthy groan.

Hands exploring you absentmindedly, he ensures to squeeze your chest at least once, otherwise keeping a tender touch settled on your tummy.

“G’morning…” He grumbles hoarsely, barely awake prior to his phone buzzing on the nightstand and his hushed “fuck” earning a giggle from you.

Caller ID: Hwang Hyunjin, the screen reads.

Without even a proper warning, he’s simultaneously thrown into a shark tank the moment the call’s accepted.

So long for the morning afterglow.

“It’s ready,” The Physic utters, and the soft fizzing of chemicals in the background do nothing to cease his foaming pit of guilt.

Grateful you couldn’t see the tight-lipped expression he burns the wall with, he grimaces, sparing you a longing glance.

So peaceful, so beautiful.

This world truly is cruel.

Rising to his feet, he throws on a white button-up, adorned by one of the many black trench coats lining his closet. Discreet, convenient.

Reminding you to stay in bed till he gets back, he finds his footsteps faltering on the way down to the lab.

Bahng, Christopher Bahng, The Gunsman, is nervous.

You’ve really done something to him.

Although, before he can make a move Felix pries the door ajar, and from how he furiously chews his bottom lip immediately answers Chris’ question.

The final part of their cover-up? Getting you back.

Because everyone, including himself, knew he’d fall in love. And he couldn’t. He couldn’t, wouldn’t dare put you through that.

Wafting fumes invade his nostrils entering (essentially) Hyunjin’s lair, multiple cloths layered in a clear box.

“Chloroform, I messed with it a bit. It’s not concentrated enough to be lethal. It’ll just put her out for a little bit.” He pats the top of the box, tugging medical gloves off ringed fingers.

From across the room, Chris can feel eyes on him.

“And how do you know if it won’t kill her?” The person asks, Changbin asks, critiquing gaze fixated on Chris despite regarding Hyunjin.

“Because I tested it? Since when did you care?” Moodily, The Physic cross his arms.

“Since now.”

“Why? Weren’t you the one who wanted to sell her?”

Chris can smell the uprising tension from a mile away.

“Because I’m allowed to care about someone! Am I not, your fucking highness?” Changbin shouts, but hidden by Hyunjin’s irked facade, Chris notices the slight tug of his lips, the peeking amusement.

Turns out Chris wasn’t the only one falling.

What a twist of events.

Interrupting their face-off, he hoists the moderately heavy box up, curtly nodding to Hyunjin.

Maneuvering around the warehouse back toward your room, he fastens a mask onto his face, spreading a few separate cloths into a smaller container.

Felix and Hyunjin’s doing, Chloroform cloths.

There were a few recommendations. Minho suggested knocking you out and going about, Seungmin with the grand idea of blackmailing you into leaving, and Jisung who wanted to keep you here.

Chloroform it was.

Returning to his bedroom, he finds himself understanding Changbin’s anger the longer he watches you, drifted back asleep, angel-like.

Fuck.

This hurts.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he delicately caresses the skin of your cheek, squinting to marvel, to study. The way your eyebrows furrow, exhaling a big breath. Infatuating.

“Can I take you to my favorite place?” He inquires, and you dazedly roll around, small frown gracing oh so tempting lips, swollen from the night before.

“Your favorite place..?”

Even your voice is infatuating. Dreamy.

Chris hums his reply.

Lifting yourself up, you agree, letting him take care of you, brush your teeth for you, undress you. Things oddly mundane for a person like him to want to do, but oddly sweet all the same.

Not sexual, but intimate. Dearly, dearly intimate.

The drive winds along backroads, slowing to take a right down a barren, rocky road situated between countless trees. In the distance you make out the faint glow of light, a clearing.

Upon breaching the forest, your expectations are instantly blown away.

Sundown, evidence of how long you’d slept (and how long Chris had kept you up), gloriously paints the sky dazzling hues.

No picture could encompass this view.

Putting the car into park, you perch on the hood, legs aimlessly swinging, breeze idly passing by.

Admire.

“I asked Jisung, but now I wanna hear it from you.”

He stays quiet.

“Why did you want me to live?” You mischievously pique, fingers drumming.

Bahng approaches nearer, turning to stand between your legs where you sit.

“I like you,” He nonchalantly responds, and the overwhelming need to push him further, dance over that thin line becomes irresistible.

“Only ‘like’ me?”

Licking his lips, he unexpectedly tilts your head to meet him. Tender, gentle.

Your heart hurts. Because unlike previously, this kiss feels regretful, feels sad.

Your arms, once clutching onto that trademark trenchcoat, wrap around his neck, his finding purchase upon your hips.

Yet, you could tell it wasn’t greed driving him. Your earlier ravenous desire, your lust, was gone.

Instead, he was carving you into his memories, starting with his lips. He’d already done so with his hands, with his body the night before.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, and before you could ask any questions he forces your attention back to his eyes, swimming with an emotion you didn’t know Chris could exhibit.

Hurt.

Inexplicable hurt overwhelm that stare. Creases his always-taut brows.

“Just trust me, please.”

Please.

“Chris,” You hesitate.

There’s been that gnawing sensation ever since getting roped into this circus. Because this was only temporary, undoubtedly headed to an inexplicable conclusion.

You wonder if perhaps this is your end, your end with Bahng, with Chris.

Someone you’ve fallen in love with. So, so fucking hard.

And from the way he’s looking at you, it looks like he has too.

But you trust him. You trust him more than you had ever trusted anyone before, and so you nod.

“Chris, I love..”

Your volume dissolves upon the cloth being held to your face, eyes rolling back into your head as you fall limp into his arms, fingertips still touching his skin.

“..Love ….you.”

He kisses you once more, slower this time, cradling you in his arms.

“I’m so sorry, I love you.”

Speaking softly to avoid his pain betraying him, Bahng carefully situates you into the passenger seat, ignoring the drone of the engine from how rapidly the speedometer climbs. Numb to anything, everything.

The Aventador’s screen alights with a call.

“What,” He rasps, gleaming traffic lights casting red and green shadows across the car’s black interior.

“Is she...?” Felix asks, and Chris eases slightly. Subtle shuffling in the background reveals the others presence, awaiting the bottom line.

“Yeah.”

The freckled boy hums in response, dejection apparent.

Nevertheless, not a peep sounds, unusual for the usually rowdy crowd. Chris can tell some of them walk away, some staying.

Corn stalks ghosting past signify his location.

He hangs up.

He’ll apologize later.

.. .

Waking up inside your grandparents house feels like a fever dream, like your body isn’t your own and when you open your eyes you’ll still be snuggled into Chris’s arms.

But you aren’t, and you’re also violently kicked out of that fantastical daydream when your grandmother shows up, all smiles, no “I’m so relieved to see you’re safe” or “where did you go?” apparent on any of her features.

“Why, you never told me you had a boyfriend!” She smacks your arm and you flinch back, wearing an expression only comprehensible as puzzlement.

Perhaps Chris payed them? Bought their silence and hid from the law in return?

But that’s not your grandparents. They wouldn’t keep their mouths shut about something like this.

So what the hell did he do?

“The handsome young man who drove you here from the airport!” Waddling over to point an accusing finger at the doorway, your head frantically snaps in every direction.

Your suitcases are zipped up, and no evidence of you ever even arriving here shows around the room.

That is until you notice your phone has miraculously returned on your nightstand.

Immediately swiping to scroll through messages, your thumb stops, lingering over a message from an unknown number.

Pausing, you click.

Don’t come looking for me, but if you need me, text this number.

You would’ve found the text eerily creepy if you didn’t have an idea of who sent it.

You do.

Because there’s no one else that says ‘don’t come looking for me’ and ‘if you need me’ in the same sentence other than him.

Bahng.

FIC TAGLIST. @lizzetmv @skzhoes @fylithia @sunshineshouyo @stayconnecteed @starlost-andfound @seo--changbin @lynlyndoll @browniesandsunshine @stay278 @surefornext @pororolifeblog @httpsjuno @d7n3

sunboki, may 2022 ©

[messyhairedhazeleyeddude]

‘ Blurry, Tired Eyes ’

A Drunk! Megumi Fushiguro x Male! Reader | SMUT |

A/N ; Yooooo, ngl, I’m running on zero right now yet I’m still doing this shit so sorry in advance. I don’t know how I honestly found the strength in me. It’s currently two in the morning and my ass is still up. Wide awake. So, I decided I was going to make this and finish it anyway. While staying up the entire night. Ain’t that fun? Anyway, here’s some random guilty pleasure prompt and peep the contents below.

Contents ; Masturbation, inexperienced reader, groping, drunk sex, praise, and daddy issues.

Dynamic ; Best Friends To Lovers

Sexual Dynamic ; Sub!Male!Reader | Dom!Megumi

P.O.V ; Second

Age range ; 18+ 21+

To be honest, you weren’t expecting this many people to show up after announcing the birthday party for Fushiguro. But, here you were, faced with an impending crowd all shoved up against one another, grinding and doing every inexplicable thing as they danced. I guess it’s what you get for entrusting Satoru with the planning.

This was the worst. You hated these types of celebrations and you knew Megumi hated them too. It didn’t help that you happened to be claustrophobic and everybody was sweating. Your face scrunched up, grossed out by the smell of liquor and onions. This was pure puke bait.

“And why the fuck does everybody have to be a whore?” You complained out loud before realizing you did so and watched a bunch of heads turn to look in your direction. That was not supposed to be said out-loud.

You took that as your cue to use your technique to disappear into the shadows and escape out of the situation by traveling to another place in the building. Although, it was extremely straining and gave you a headache once you made it into one of the hallways. Time to look for the birthday boy you’ve been trying to find all day.

Gazing up at the pictures that were hanging about, you looked over a couple that had your peers, hovering over to the stoic frowning Fushiguro who bore his eyes directly into the camera in the photo.

A small smile crossed your face, laughing a little at the memory of Itadori harassing the ravenette until he snapped just before it. Those two were always bickering back and forth, never giving each other a break, not once. It was entertaining to watch them chase each other around. Sometimes, joining in on it when it got out of hand. But, it was usually to hold Megumi back from killing the dumb guy.

You weren’t going to lie to yourself, maybe you also helped because you felt left out. The twinges of jealousy when Yuuji would get too close to his face or he’d get in a position with him that looked risqué. Either way, it formed a knot in your throat and you couldn’t help including yourself.

But, that couldn’t mean much. You figured it was because you were overprotective that this feeling frequently came to mind. Megumi had been your exclusive best friend for a couple of years by now. That had to be normal.

A part of you knew that there was more to it than what you were acknowledging. Though, you didn’t want to elaborate on it. There was no point in figuring something like that out if you hadn’t even crossed the flirting stage. And you didn’t know if he was interested in men.

The noise of an object thudding on the ground in the nearby room knocked you out of your mind ramble, causing you to jump in surprise before narrowing your (E/C) eyes at the door. You could sense it wasn’t a curse so that was good. That didn’t mean you were any less curious about who it was.

As you walked toward it, you could hear sounds from the other side getting clearer and clearer. And they didn’t sound innocent. It was groaning and huffing, desperate too. But, not just from anyone, no. This was the familiar voice of the boy you were thinking about a second ago.

Like a hypocrite, your heart felt like it was about to break. ‘He couldn’t be hooking up with somebody, right?’ you worriedly asked in thought, a wave of emotions washing over you before another loud moan muffled through the wooden door.

There was no way you were going to stop yourself from figuring it out after that. Apologizing to Megumi under your breath, you reached for the door knob and opened it to something you never expected to see instead.

The raven-haired male was completely naked from head to toe, leaning over a trash can with his left hand placed on the wall while the other was rubbing up and down his shaft.

His hair was drenched with sweat, strands sticking to his forehead, and his chest glistened in the lamp light. There were veins popping from his arms, neck, and most of all, his dick. His thumb focusing on his tip every couple of pumps as he mumbled out questions, “Fuck, why do I have to get so hard? Why won’t it go away?”

‘Jesus, fucking, Christ,’ was the only thing you could think. You were watching your best friend touch himself, bare. And it wasn’t taking you much before you were struggling right alongside him. The front of your pants tightening and a bulge poking through the fabric.

He noticed your presence once he adjusted to fucking his hand and took a minute to process, his dark blue eyes slowly widening as he stared back at you. You didn’t say anything, choked up by anxiety. Leaving the two of you to stand in silence, waiting for either one of you to break it.

Megumi covered himself with the sweater resting on the desk near him, eventually speaking up while trying to shake off the shock of being caught, “How long have you been standing there?” A red hue spread across both yours and his cheeks as you struggled to make eye contact. How come he had the ability to be so direct even during something like this? It was a quality that you liked, regardless.

You answered him in a quiet voice, “It’s been a couple of minutes…” Lowering your head out of embarrassment but not looking away entirely. You had just enough access to see what he was doing. And in that peripheral vision, you saw his attention flicker downwards.

Quickly, you hid your hard-on with your hands. Although, Megumi knew exactly what that gesture meant so it wasn’t successful. You could tell from the way his eyebrows switched from furrowed to raised like he was surprised. Then how more silence followed.

Not a single chance in hell were you going to look directly at him again, not when he was staring you down like this. You were hoping, praying to god that he wouldn’t point fingers despite not believing in that which meant you knew you were screwed. Was your friendship finally going to end here? What did this mean for the rest of the friends that are connected to you both? Panic was settling in the more he let you stand there.

“Can you close the door? I want to talk to you,” he asked bluntly after what felt like forever and honestly, that made your fear worse. “Please don’t say we can’t be friends because of this,” you interjected before he said anything else and closed the door like he suggested.

Fushiguro laughed through his nose and grumbled as if he was offended that you thought that, “Why would I want to end our friendship because you caught me jerking off, [F/N]?” Hearing him say it so casual made you get the comfortability to look at him again, seeing that he was picking up his clothes and acting like nothing happened.

He let you watch him get dressed, his back facing you the entire time, but you got the whole show. How he snapped his boxers around his waist, the indents in his back as well as the scars, and how his hair sprung back up into the spiky hairstyle he loved to style it in after he pulled his shirt over his head. You didn’t mean to stare, but it was really hard not to when you secretly admitted the feelings you have to yourself. And you just saw him masturbating. You saw his…

Not trying to finish that sentence in your head, you moved on by walking over to an outlet in what appeared to be an old classroom and kneeled down next to it to plug in the charger you brought. Thank god, you have an excuse now.

Awkwardly snapping it inside of the lightning port of your phone, you left it resting on a windowsill and turned to face Megumi. He was back in the outfit you had given him for his birthday. A cerulean sleeveless top with black Nike sweatpants. It was simple, yet he made it look like gold.

“Are you going to answer or are you going to keep checking me out?” He tilted his head, those wolf-shaped eyes of his burrowing into yours and making you unable to pry them away.

Your breath caught in your throat and all at once, thoughts became jumbled and you couldn’t figure out a thing to respond with. He was acting so careless just a second ago but now, he was flat out telling you that he knew what you were doing. What was going on?

Megumi sighed and rolled his eyes, “You don’t have to tell me. It’s obvious you liked what you saw. Your dick’s been rock solid this whole time.” He nodded his head toward your lower half, causing you to choke on your spit, and sputter, “What? No! No! I’m just drunk…” You struggled to breathe and had to hit your chest to help yourself. Hopefully, this excuse will hold up.

But, it didn’t. The ravenette began to walk towards you, his abyssal blue orbs never leaving yours once while you froze there. Until he was right in front of your face and glancing at your lips. “That’s convenient. I’m a little tipsy myself…” he said softly, looking back up through his long eyelashes.

God, he was so beautiful. You were beginning to fall for his tricks already. But, you didn’t care about how fast you went for it, you cared about the fact he was showing interest.

The pretty boy pushed forward, his hands placing themselves on either side of your head as his nose connected with yours. Your breathing escalated. This was happening. It was happening. He was going to kiss you.

Your eyelids fluttered shut while both of your lips locked with one another. His lips softer than a cloud and the pressure enough to relieve the tension in you. You had been waiting for this for so long. The tugging between his mouth and yours. When his teeth pressed into your bottom lip or how his lashes brushed against your skin. He tasted like Sake and somewhat bitterly sweet like dark caramel. It was worth every ounce of waiting. Every bit.

His hair brushed with yours and the palm of his hand reached up to cup your cheek, moving it to the back of your neck over time. At some point, he needed to pull away for air and as he did, the two of you were back to locking eyes.

The way Megumi was staring at you gave you chills. It was like pure lust clouded over his expression. He was giving you that ‘fuck me’ look so obviously that it made your knees slightly buckle. To follow up with that, he went straight to the point by sliding down one of his hands to your bulge and groping it. His voice smooth like whiskey when adding, “Can I take these off?”

You melted like butter in his hands, instinctively bucking your hips into him and groaning with a nod. It was crazy how bad you wanted this. The damp spot of pre-cum on your boxers getting bigger and bigger the evidence of that.

Fushiguro unbuttoned and unzipped your pants easily, hooking his fingers in the loops to pull them down to your knees. He kissed your cheek and the side of your jaw while continuing down with them until he was at your neck, searching for a secret sweet spot.

Moans cascaded out of you bit by bit during his exploration, getting sharper around an area he kept brushing past. When he figured out where it was, he suckled on the skin and abused it enough to where a huge hickey rested there. He got your boxers off as well and the moment his fingers touched you, your hand grabbed his wrist and tightened.

“Fuck! Wait! I haven’t done this with anybody else before! This is a lot to take in,” you exclaimed, panting and looking down at the sight of your naked bottom half right next to his covered hard one. Sort of wishing that he didn’t put his clothes back on.

Megumi didn’t seem to be phased by that. Instead, he figured out what you were looking at and got to stripping them off too. Once he was in nothing, he gave a soft smile and reassured, “It’s okay, [F/N]. You can trust me with this. I just… I really need to do this with you.” It worked and made you relax your muscles, getting closer to him unconsciously.

Then he leaned forward and pressed his tip against yours, wrapping his big, rough hand around them before spitting on it. Pumping it up and down, matching the pace he was going for himself earlier, and using the same hand now that you mentioned it. Your head rested back into the wall as you grunted out what you were thinking impulsively, “Fuck, daddy.!” You weren’t trying to say it, you just did. Outing a kink to him that you swore no one would hear a single peep about. That was what you get for attempting something slightly not-safe-for-work with a guy you’ve had freaky dreams about.

You scanned his face for any small detail of him feeling disgusted, weirded out, all of the above; you found none of that. Rather, he was seemingly in awe from how his mouth parted. It shifted into him giving a small smirk, letting out the most sexually frustrated voice you’ve heard yet in a whisper, “Keep calling me that… And don’t you ever fucking stop.”

Shuddering, you were letting more and more noises go that you didn’t know you could make and he was savoring every single one. Moaning along with you, fucking his cock against yours, and smearing his pre-cum over the both of you like it was lube.

The sorcerer got impatient. He needed something better than this. He knew what he wanted, the idea felt so right to him, he couldn’t suppress the urge to. You were right there, perfectly laid out.

Fushiguro guided himself down, using one of his hands to grab your thigh and move you to the desk. You placed both of your palms behind you to support yourself, just as ready as he was, maybe even more. With a rush of dopamine, you got the courage to dirty talk back, “Please… I want you… Daddy.” The nickname was hesitated on, but that was because this was all so new to you. How could he be so comfortable with this?

As low as it was, Megumi was pleased with the request and bit his lip at the sight of you spreading your legs below him. He never would’ve thought he would get you like this and fuck, he wasn’t complaining. Hell, he felt lucky.

He positioned himself against you, but teased by rubbing in circles. Making sure that you were wet enough for him to slide in with no issue. That proved helpful as his dick inched inside soon after, easing all of it until he could feel himself so deep that it was close to your stomach. You were gripping onto his arms, one on his bicep, the other on his forearm. Squeezing harder than you ever had.

It hurt so fucking bad. Like he was ripping you apart and forcing your body to succumb to him. Tears brimmed your eyes and he noticed it, stopping and keeping himself there so you could adjust. ‘Fuck’, he mentally cursed to himself, ‘It’s his first… I’m his first.’ A part of him got excited repeating that, proud of it. “Shit, sorry… I’m sorry, baby… Tell me when you’re okay…” Megumi rambled while placing a tiny kiss on your lips to make up for the pain. Never fucking a guy had its drawbacks.

Eventually, you got used to the fullness and it eased away into the pleasure you’ve heard so many things about. You gave him the go by nodding and tightened your grip to get yourself ready. A shocked gasp jumped out when he did the first thrust. It felt amazing. Too amazing.

You begged for more, “Please, faster. I want it. I want you to destroy me…” Losing yourself to the feeling of his huge dick fucking in and out of you, your cries got louder and desperate. Especially when his hand went to wrapping around your shaft to stimulate you even further. The pumping, the ramming, and his growls from his own enjoyment with your body all crashed down onto you.

Your edge was nearing, rushing at you with full speed, and coming closer by the minute as Megumi buried himself to where you could feel his tip poking out of your stomach. You cried out in pleasure, “Gumi! Fuck! You’re too deep…!” Arching your back and rolling your eyes, your dick started to twitch.

He chuckled and went faster with his hand, pumping the cum out of you basically and letting it explode onto your chest. It covered the majority of your lower half and dripped down as he continued to ram you into the desk. More sputtering out while he was fucking the high out of you. Your eyes were lazily closing, your mind becoming numb and dumb from the overstimulation.

Moans were blending together as your body threw a fit, digging your nails into any skin you could. He held you tightly there so you wouldn’t escape, doing you so hard now that it was sounding like everything was going to collapse underneath you.

Fushiguro praised you throughout this as an apology, “God, you feel so good… I can feel you holding me there inside… Like you want me to fucking breed you, [Y/N]..!”

That sent another orgasm over you and caused your cum to spill everywhere again, your legs sticky with it at this point. But, he kept going. He was so close. Right there.

The raven-haired man clawed at the edges of the desk when he was reaching cloud nine, thrusting in hard and passionate. He made sure to fuck his seed inside of you until it was like you were being bred by him. You knew you couldn’t conceive, but it sure as hell would be the case if you could. His muscles stopped tensing the moment he was done and he let out a satisfied sigh that was rare to hear, “If I knew sex with you was going to be that good, I would’ve made you my boyfriend sooner.”

With a peck on the forehead, he pulled out of you and let you catch your breath. ‘Boyfriend? He called me his boyfriend?’ that was all that could repeat in your mind as he walked over to where your clothes were scattered to clean. When everything was put away and he wiped up most of what he could off of the both of you, Megumi decided to have you come home with him. Walking out of the classroom together, he excitedly chimed, “Thanks for the birthday present, [F/N]!”

[thehorrorgirlstyles]

Be my Queen

King!Loki x Commoner!reader

Warnings: Royal AU, Mentions of death, Swearing, 18+ content, blood, violence, mature themes, sexual themes & words, dark themes

Note: I am not an expert with Royal titles, I tried as closely to follow what I know, but there could be some mistakes such as status.

Summary: Loki has taken a liken to you, wanting you to be his queen....his mother has other plans in mind.

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"Mother, MOTHER!" you yell out, running towards her. The guards drag her limp body away from you, she leaves a trail of blood behind. "PLEASE MOTHER!" You cry out as they disappear around the corner. You keep running, trying to reach her, but she's gone and you can't seem to keep up. You can't feel your body as tears stream down your face. You continue to run, but you end up back where you started. Blackness surrounds you as you drift off losing consciousness. Your eyes close and you feel yourself falling, hitting the floor with a "thump!".

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You wake up in a cold sweat, breathing deeply. This has been the third time you've had this nightmare this week. The recurring dream of your mother haunts you, but you know that it isn't true. It's just a nightmare. She passed away in her sleep due to a disease, your own father told you when you were eight asking, "Where mommy has gone?". So why do you keep having this nightmare you wonder?

You get out of bed and head to the bathroom. You have no time to think about the dream as you have more important things to do today. Loki's ceremony where he will be announced King happens in a few days. As the daughter of the Royal Advisor and executive officer, it is your job to help the servants and ladies-in-waiting with making sure everything is ready when the day comes. The kingdom has been over crowded as of late as the commoners and people of the kingdom are excited to see Loki become king. It is believed that he will be a great ruler as he is kind and compassionate to those of less status. You especially are happy to see Loki become King, he deserves it.

When you get out of the shower, you sit down at your vanity and brush your hair. Looking into the mirror you realize what this means for Loki and you. He will have to take a Queen and you have little to no status. You only reside in the palace because your dad is their right hand man. Queen Frigga has been like a mother figure to you as your family grew up serving the royal family and has provided your family with the honor of residing in her kingdom of Asgard, her saying that it will be easier to call on you if you live in their quarters. When your mother passed, Frigga told you that you would take her place and become her lady-in-waiting as soon as you turned 18, which happens to be the same day as Loki's ceremony.

As you and Loki grew up together, you developed feelings. You have been seeing Loki since you guys were 16. You don't know how you'll be able to see him grow old with someone else, but you know he'll have to. You finish up getting ready when you hear a knock sound on your door. You tighten your robe around yourself, walking towards the noise.

"Yes?" you answer the door looking out to see Emma, a servant.

"Hello m'lady Prince Loki asked me to give these to you" She comes in and hangs 2 dresses on your closets doors. One is green, the other gold, both covered in diamonds each stunningly gorgeous.

"He said to choose which one you like best to wear today as well as the jewelry I laid out on your bed" She points to the Emerald earrings and diamond necklace.

"You can find him in the enchanted garden when you're done and I'll be back later to clean up your room" She walks out closing your door.

You look at the dresses deciding on which one to wear. Loki has been gifting you presents for quite some time. While you enjoy them you also feel like it's too much. You should be helping the servants, instead your playing dress up, living a life that only someone of royal status should.

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"Y/n" Loki looks at you with a small smile on his face.

You walk into the garden coming face to face with Loki.

"I see you chose the green my favorite color...You look beautiful in anything you wear my love, but you look breath taken right now" He grabs your hand, pulling you in closer. He wraps his arm over your waist, kissing you passionately.

After a minute, you back away and put your hand on his chest, "Loki, I-I..."

He looks into your eyes with concern, "What is it darling, are you alright?"

"Loki why I appreciate the grand gestures and the big fancy dresses, you can't keep doing this".

"Doing what, I don't understand..do you not like the dress, I can have another made for you my dear" he pushes a strand of your hair out of your face, his arm still holding your waist.

"No its not that...its jus-...its just that your going to be king soon and I'm no one Loki" "Your going to have to take a Queen and I am simply your servant...a commoner at best.. I'm only here because of my father"

"Y/n my love for you is stronger than any title, if being King means that I lose you.. then I shall simply stay a Prince" "However, since I can chose who will be my Queen, when I become King, I chose to take you as mine"

You look at him in shock, "bu-But Loki I'm not a Princess, it's goes against the rules".

"It doesn't matter darling, I will have the highest authority, what I say shall go and if anyone dares to say something I will deal with it myself" "Titles don't mean anything to me, in my eyes you are so much more, you have always been since I first laid my eyes on you back when we were only little beings"

A tear slips from your eyes and he wipes it away. You kiss him deeply and he roughly grabs your hips pulling you in closely. Everyday you crave his touch, you will never get enough of him. He pulls you towards the stone wall in the garden. Your back hits the wall and he hikes your leg up. You wrap it around his hip as you grind against each other.

"God, I can't wait to make you my Queen" he groans out, grabbing your neck and deepening the kiss. He's rough with his movement like he hasn't touched you in days. Your dress prevents you from actually doing anything right now, your corset feeling like its knocking the breath out of you. It is probably a good thing since you are in a public place where anyone could walk by. The garden mostly being inclosed by large glass windows and a few stone walls.

"Fuck" he slams his hand by your head, against the stone. "Shall we go to my bed chambers right now?, I need to take you Y/n.. you are making me a madman" He moves towards your neck, biting and sucking, making you moan out.

"While that sounds like a lovely idea my Lord, we both have duties to attend to and I think we have lost track of time" you giggle out, wrapping your hands around his neck.

"I don't mind losing myself in you" He goes back to your waist, pulling you in closely, meeting your mouth. You kiss him back, both moaning into it.

You hear someone clear their throat. You both quickly back away from each other. Your face reddens as you realize it's his mother that interrupted you.

Loki pulls his shirt down and tugs on his collar, sorting out his suit. He clears his throat, "uh- Mother what seems to be the matter?"

Frigga looks between the both of you. You can't tell, but there seems to be something behind her eyes that doesn't look happy. Even though she smiles and walks further into the garden to meet you, "Son, Princess Amor is here to meet with you, she is in the foyer with Duke William".

Loki goes to complain, but is stoped by Frigga, "It is advise that you see to her, now" She gives her son a warning look. Frigga has been trying to set her son up with a Princess over the last few weeks.

He sighs and looks to you, "I'll be back as soon as I can" he gives you a sympathetic look and kisses the top of your head, walking out the garden.

Frigga watches him leaves and looks to you, "Dear, walk with me will you?"

"Of course Frigga" you give her a small smile and go to start walking.

She stops you, "Its your majesty". You look at her, she's never once made you call her that, it has always been Frigga since you were little, but you nod and she smiles at you.

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You guys walk to the end of the palace outside to where the dungeon is kept, she opens the door to the basement and you look at her.

"Why are we going down here?"

"Why my dear, I simply wish to show you a part of the plaace you haven't seen before is all" She smiles, but it doesn't meet her eyes. You can't help but feel that something is wrong, but you follow her down the stairs.

It's cold and dark, the stairs seeming to go on forever. You finally reach the bottom and see a bunch of rooms some with prison bars. You guys walk to the end of the hall. On the way you peep into one of the rooms and see blood smeared on the walls, chains hanging from the ceiling.

You can't help but ask, "What exactly do you use this place for?"

She turns around and motions you to continue following her. You reach the end of the hall and enter the biggest room of the dungeon. Inside is more chains and a large table in the middle that looks like a guillotine.

"To answer your question, this area of the palace is used for anyone that crosses the kingdom, such as traitors or thieves"

"So like a prison, where they serve out their time...pay back their debt?" You ask looking around the room.

"Yes exactly..except they don't serve out their time.. you seen we have other rules around here that we have to enforce in order to keep the peasant in control, an eye for a eye if you will".

You stop your movements and look at her, "You kill them!?"... "But Loki would never dare to do such a thing".

She laughs, "Yes I see my son is a little too weak to carry out these things, which is why I carry out the orders".

"You command the guards to kill...but why Frigga?.. they're still people, people with families and children".

"IT'S QUEEN FRIGGA TO YOU AND YOU WILL ADRESS ME A SUCH!" she yells at you. You jump back in shock. "They should have thought about that before crossing me..GUARDS SEIZE HER!"

You look up and see five men come rushing in, they grab you roughly. You try to get away from them, but their hands dig into your skin, making you cry out, "Wh-What are you doing?" You look to Frigga. Why is she doing this to you?

"You see dear my son is deeply in love with you and I can't have that, it makes him weak, and you are no one..a nobody, he needs to marry someone of royal status... a Princess" "I let you both have your fun, but now he will be crowned King in a few days".

"B-But I don't understand you practically raised me, my family has been apart of yours for so long.. I looked at you like you were my own mother!"

"I know dear and I'm sorry for that, your father has been quite loyal to us and I to have looked at you as my daughter, but the fact is that you aren't.. and I need my son to marry someone that will be an asset to our kingdom.. you are simply not that, its nothing personal dear".

The guards move you towards the table, strapping you to it with ropes. You squirm as you try to get free, but it's no use the ropes burn against your skin. "He'll never forgive you for this..Loki will never look at you the same!" You cry out.

"He won't know it was me.. neither will your father, he will still be serving us as if you never existed" She laughs in your face, "Just like he did with your mom"

"What?" You look at her, "My mom died of disease".

"Is that what he told you?" .. "I had her taken away and killed, she was a pest, my husband couldn't seem to take his eyes off her, so I got rid of her and him".

It wasn't a dream? It was real? The guards really did drag her away and you saw it happen..

More tears stream down your face. Frigga comes up to you and pets your hair, "Shhhh sweetie its okay it will be over soon, I am truly sorry it had to come to this.. I would have had you just marry off to someone else, but you're ruined. I know Loki ruined you and no one wants a whore of a woman who has slept with another man".

"Please, don't do this.. Please Frigga I beg of you!" You cry out in a last attempt to save your life.

"Shh we wasted enough time, soon Loki will come looking for her and we need to get rid of her body, hurry up and pull the lever!" She shouts to the guards.

"Can't we have a little fun with her first, I mean she is just stunning" You hear a guard say.

"You can have fun with her after you kill her, she won't fight you back because she'll be dead, less hard on you." Frigga replies sounding annoyed.

You look at them in disgust, how could this woman you once thought of a mom do this to you?

"Oh but I like the chase, I like when they fight back, screaming out for someone to come to the rescue, but no one hears them" He smirks at you and touches your face. You whimper and flinch away from his touch.

"If you make it quick, then I'll grant you the permission".

The guards smiles at Frigga's response and gets on top of you, he rips the dress, your corset showing, while only a piece of fabric remains on your arms. You try to fight back against him, "STOP, PLEASE, SOMEBODY HELP, HELP ME!" You scream out.

He chuckles at your cries, "It's a shame that we have to kill you afterwards, such a waste of a pretty face".

Suddenly a man barges into the room, "MY QUEEN!" he looks to Frigga, frightened.

"What is it!"

"THE PRINCE, HES COMING, A GUARD TOLD HIM WHAT YOU WHERE PLANNING!"

Frigga face pales, "HURRY UP GET OFF THE GIRL, KILL HER NOW!"

The guard gets off of you immediately and while you're thankful he couldn't progress any further, you are also now scared for death faces you.

Frigga decides that the guards are taking too long of a time, as you see her push one out of her way and walk towards the lever. You screams out for help. When your prayers are answered.

"STOP THIS ISNTANT!" Loki opens the door.

Frigga's hand pauses in front of the lever. Tears continue to stream down your face.

"BACK AWAY FROM HER!" Loki rushes to your side and begins undoing the ropes which hold you down. You look at him and see a look that you've never seen before. He is beyond angry.

"Loki I-" Frigga begins.

"DO NOT SPEAK TO ME!" he raises his voice, not even looking at his mother.

He finally gets you free and helps you off the table. Your dress or what's left of it falls off your body due to the rip. Loki looks at you in disbelif. He pulls you to him and holds your sobbing body as you shake with fear. He shushes you, continuing to hold you as you cry. He looks and sees all the bruises that litter your body. He snaps his head to the guards around him and then he finally looks to his mother.

"How could you do this?" he says barely above a whisper. "I will never forgive you for this, you are no mother to me and you are certainly not a Queen".

"Loki, I was only trying to save Asgard's future..Your future" Frigga pleads with him. You look and see tears forming in her eyes. How ironic you think.

Loki looks to the guards ignoring his mother, "Who touched her?". No one replies. "WHO FUCKING TOUCHED HER!" The guards flinch with fear.

"It was him, he tried t-to ra- me" You point to the guard that was on top of you. Loki looks at you and pulls you back into him.

"I want you to get on that table and pull the lever" he looks at the guard.

"What- But- but- I- she" the guard quivers in fear.

"Stay right here darling and close your eyes" Loki kisses the top of your head and lets you go. He walks over to the guard and you hear him punch him.

"Please, it was a mistake, I didn't mean to touch your lady my Lord" you hear him grunt out. Loki grabs the guard by his collar and throws him under the guillotine.. You hear the guard scream out as the blade cuts into his neck. Loki wipes the blood off his face that splattered on him, "Anyone else?" he looks around the room and back to you.

You finally open your eyes meeting his, your eyes fall to the lifeless body on the floor, but Loki moves to block your view. You quietly shake your head.

"Alright then, what shall I do with the use of you" .. "How about we start with you mother" Frigga looks up, scared when she sees the look in her son's eyes.

"Guards lock her away in one of the dungeon rooms, until I figure out what to do with her, maybe I'll let sweet Y/n decide, since it was her life you so blindly casted aside".

"Son-" Loki cuts her pleads off, "GUARDS!"

The guards look between each other not knowing who's orders to follow.

"I AM YOUR KING YOU WILL OBEY ME!" Loki yells out. The guards rush to grab Frigga, dragging her away. The image reminds you of your mother, funny you think, what goes around, comes around.

As soon as they're gone Loki rushes to your side. You see the pain in his eyes as he stares at you. "I am so very deeply sorry my darling, I should have known my mother would go behind my back like this" .. "I promise you I won't let any harm come to you ever again, we will rule together, you will be my Queen, Asgard's Queen, you deserve it more than any Princess, Y/n".

"As long as I am with you Loki, I don't care if I am Queen or a commoner". He holds on to you tightly with the promise of never letting go.

_______________________________________________________

Timeskip: 5 years later

"My Queen what color do you wish for the baby's room?"

"Hmmm I believe a dark shade of green would go nicely" You smile at Emma and rub your growing belly. "It's Loki's favorite Color".

Note: This was a longer one, as always hoped you enjoyed! :)

[awkward-halfhug]

probably not the best sedative | eleventh doctor x reader

summary: insomnia leads the Doctor to daydreaming. He figures he should stick to counting sheep, but quickly finds out how wrong he is

chapter 1 2 3 4 5

contents: fluff, daydreaming

(also on my ao3)

0.7k

The Doctor heaves an almighty sigh as he once again adjusts his position on his favorite couch in the library. He is not tired in the least and he doesn't need nearly as much sleep as humans, as he told you earlier. You weren't hearing any of it, say you don't believe him but even if it is true, he does still need some rest, especially after your most recent adventure.

So here he is, not sleeping. Because he's not tired.

The Doctor takes a deep breath and closes his eyes; hopes thinking about something nice will lull him to unconsciousness.

He's wrong, of course. But he's always got some excuse to think about you. Because you're the nicest thing he's ever met-- and he's met a lot of things.

Your laugh is nice. You've got around 15 different laughs and he's always surprised when you invent a new one. But whether it's a light giggle or a hearty guffaw or some sort of animal noise he can’t identify, it makes him laugh along with you.

Your smile is nice. It's always so earnest and hopeful. The kind of hopeful the Doctor searches galaxies to find, and when he does, he makes sure to grab on tight and never let go.

Your heart is nice. The Doctor is pretty sure if he could run a scanner over your heart it would, in fact, read 100% nice. Actually, it would read 100% kind. Your explanation of the difference still rings in his ears. "Being nice is a natural automatic kind of thing. Kindness you do on purpose." And if that doesn't just sum you up.

Your words are nice. Usually. Sometimes, the Doctor has to admit, he pushes your buttons a little too hard. Which sounds awful since, as he's established you're the nicest person in the universe. But it is just too hard to resist at times. Winding you up just tight enough that you won't break, because when you unravel it sure is a sight to see. He loves hearing your honey-tipped tongue tinged with just a bit of poison. Your clever mind set to work on painting him a colorful picture of exactly why he's wrong, or insensitive, or mean. Afterwards, you'll splutter a mortified apology. Adorable.

Your hands are nice. You have the lightest touch, treating each and every life form they encountered with dignity and reverence. You have the remarkable ability to make others feel important, without even saying a word. The Doctor will be off giving some speech about his own brilliance or chastising some group of careless idiots, and you, his kind, gentle companion will be calming the locals he's forgotten about. Consoling a mother. Holding a child's hand. Reaching out for his.

Nice doesn't seem a strong enough word to describe your eyes. They're warm, so warm. Warm enough to chase away the lonely on even his worst nights. He'll look into them and somehow feel understood and comforted and reassured all at once. Even though he's over a thousand years old and you're in the first few decades of your life. Your eyes hold such empathy and wisdom and emotional depth, sometimes it takes him aback and he has to look somewhere else in case you actually can read his mind.

And then they twinkle when you smile, laughing because he's blushing.

And when you're angry. Well.

It's supposed to send a chill up his spine when your pretty eyes turn icy enough to freeze him in place. He's supposed to feel regret, or fear, or remorse. But all he can ever feel is excitement. A little twitch in his fingers, a buzz on his skin, and increased heart rates--but never regret. So if he earns himself the title 'insufferable' more often than not these days, the Doctor will inform anyone that asks, it is your fault, not his.

Your lips are--

The Doctor decides at this point that thinking about his companion is actually probably not the best sedative he could've tried. And also that sleep is pretty overrated in the grand scheme of things. He'll earn himself a look of disapproval and possibly you might not bake him those biscuits he was rather hoping for. But it's your fault he can't sleep anyway.

And actually, he forgot to mention to you, funny thing about Time Lords, they're social sleepers. Like cats really.

The Doctor decides right now is as good a time as any to impart to you that special Time Lord fun fact he just remembered.

And so he sets off to do just that.

thank you for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider reblogging/commenting, it means a lot! ♡

[hypewinter]

3 HC/AU Prompt Thingy (3)

1). Box Ghost hears he was powerful and feared I'm the Dan timeline, gets ripped

2). Jason, as a reverent can hit ectoplasm ghosts

3). Guys Night Out (choose whatever ghosts you want)

(I love making these and your the only one who writes for them, :))

Ok hear me out: Full DILF box ghost. Don't scroll away and just give me a second of your time ok?

Boxy gets swoll. Real swoll. His gimmick might still be dumb but now he's so strong that no one dares to point that out anymore. That being said, he is still the best dad ever to Boxed Lunch. I'm talking about helping her tie her shoes, being a willing participant in her tea parties, tucking her in at night, the works. He's such a good father that when Boxed Lunch asks for a super rare Orphan toy that was only ever distributed in Gotham, he immediately agrees to get it for her.

Johnny 13 hears about Box Ghost's little outing and invites himself along as he wants to get Kitty some new jewelry to make up for their last fight. Thus begins a wild night for Boxy and Johnny as they both have a heart to heart (now that Johnny 13 can't make fun of him for fear of being punted through a wall) plus they even bond over how much they love the women in their lives.

All is going well. The boys have done some fun stuff around the city, gotten up to a little mischief, and even picked up Johnny's apology jewelry. The only thing left is Boxed Lunch's toy. As they're scouring an abandoned warehouse full of discontinued toys that's when Jason drops it. He'd been getting reports of strange occurrences all night from his men and he'd finally been able to track it down to this warehouse. Of all the things Jason anticipated, it was not two weird looking metas going through boxes. But nevertheless he has a job to do.

He aims his gun at the two metas and demands they step away from the boxes. They don't. Why would they? They're ghosts, this human can't hurt them. Sure enough when Jason eventually fires at their knees after a couple of warning shots, the rubber bullets go right through. Jason is shocked to say the least. And now his mind is whirring a mile a minute trying to figure out how those two just did that. Meta powers? Hidden tech? How is he going to deal with this? He doesn't want to go through the embarrassment of calling for backup.

Johnny 13 on the other hand, is pretty peeved this guy won't leave them alone. He's ruining their night out! So he decides to scare him. Maybe that will make him leave. So Johnny gets right up in Jason's fac- er mask and lets out a pretty impressive ghostly howl if he does say so himself. Except instead of running away, Jason instinctively punches him. In the nose. And it hurts. A lot.

So now Johnny is reeling in pain, Jason realizes he can take care of these guys the old fashioned way and Boxy has finally found the Orphan toy. "Oh no!" I hear you say. "The fight of the century between Boxy and Jason is about to go down!" Actually no. Not really.

Box Ghost has been teaching Boxed Lunch about conflict resolution recently and he is not about to let his actions contradict his words. So he explains the situation to Jason. Jason for his part is a little miffed but understanding. You're just trying to be a good father. I get it. Besides these toys are just gonna collect dust in here anyways. Oh but you do have to return the jewelry. *Sad (and pained) Johnny 13 noises*

Jason kinda feels bad for the whole, punching Johnny in the nose thing (even though it was totally his fault) so he offers to take them to find non-stolen jewelry for Kitty instead. Thus the boys night continues! Now with extra shenanigans.

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Front Row

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x Reader

Word count: 2.2k

Notes: I’m sorry this took so long 😀😀😀 I’m currently dead inside!! (I’m just sick)

Eddie is exhausted as he makes his way to the showers, he just wants to wash off the last fire (where he’d fallen in mud) and go to freaking sleep. He usually didn’t mind the 24-hour shifts, but today was just grating on him and he just wanted to sleep… not to mention his favorite (second to Buck) coworker wasn’t anywhere to be found 

He felt a little embarrassed, the way he noticed you were missing, Hen had just written it off as you’d probably gone to nap or something as she sat on the couch with Chimney and a big bowl of popcorn. But like… he didn’t want you to be napping he wanted to be talking to you, or hanging out or something. Which was where the embarrassing part came in, the exasperated look from Chimney just telling him to go tell you how he felt

Yeah no way in hell, you’d never let him live it down. You might even stop speaking to him altogether. 

He tosses his clothes down on the bench and sighs, adjusting the towel around his waist. Another shower is running in the corner, which is weird considering he knows where the other three men in this station currently are. He walks closer to the curtain and stops cold in his tracks when he hears you

“Oh god… Eddie” 

His heart is pounding in his ears as he awkwardly flails his hands for a minute because what the heck is he supposed to do. He tiptoes like a cartoon character over to the shower next to you and slips into the stall, putting his back to the wall and crouching a little 

“Fuck, fuck harder please” You pant softly and his head is spinning, because you- you said his name and you’re begging him to go harder- sort of 

And god would he go harder if you wanted him to, he’d do anything you wanted him to do. He listens for a minute, tilting his head to hear you better, he wishes the stupid shower would shut off or you’d just be louder?? He doesn’t know he just needs to hear you… to see you. 

He can’t help it, and he feels like such a freaking perv, but he shoves his towel down,  gripping his cock. He can hear your fingers pumping in and out of your pussy, his eyes rolling back at the little noises you make, those sweet whimpers. He strokes his cock in time with your sounds, his heart beating out of his chest 

“Jesus Christ…” He moans, his head falling against the cold tile. His breath catches in his throat as he hears you stop

“U-umm??” Your voice comes from the other side of the stall and Eddie wants to die, he wants to die so so badly right now 

He hears your curtain move, and suddenly your little hand appears around the corner, palm outstretched. He gulps, reaching his hand out, and takes yours. You let out a sadistic little giggle and yank him into the shower with you. He stumbles into the stall, his body pushed up against yours 

“What were you doing?” You put your hands on your hips, glaring him down. Or rather up, he’s so much taller than you are. He looks down at you, his cheeks basically on fire at this point. He’s just supposed to be able to easily answer your question while you’re standing there naked 

“Uh- I just- I- shit” He puts his hand over his eyes, cringing a little 

“I just came to take a shower, what are you doing in here??? This is the men’s room?”

“Everyone knows this is the best shower, the water is hottest here”

“Oh so you just decided to not tell anyone you were in here”

“It’s like 3am Eddie, I would have thought I’d have some privacy… What were you doing?” 

“What were you doing?” He counters and you push his chest 

“I asked first!!” 

He stumbles back and uncovers his eyes “Okay but- okay”

“Yeah, you don’t have an answer! So… what were you doing?!” 

“Maybe… possibly maybe the same thing you were doing” 

Your cheeks flush and your stance softens a bit, you let your hands fall to your sides as you step a bit closer to him 

“W-were you listening to me?” 

“I mean-“ 

“Did- did you hear me?” Your hands come trailing lazily up his arms, enjoying the feel of his muscles under your fingertips and he shudders, a chill going up his spine 

“Did you want me to hear you?” He looks down at you, his gaze darkening as he cups your face

“Did you? Want to hear me?” 

You’re both going back and forth with this, neither willing to take the next step in admitting hell yes you both want this. 

“So like, okay what if I said yes?” Eddie looks at you, his eyes trailing down your body, taking in the sight of the water droplets cascading down your soft skin. 

“Well if you were saying yes” You bite your lip, “I might be saying yes too. But only if you say yes” 

“Okay but why do I have to say yes first?” He asks, his hands coming up your sides and squeezing gently

“Because I don’t want to…” You smile at him coyly and he rolls his eyes playfully. He leans forward, nuzzling his nose against yours and you cup his face, your lips ghosting over his. 

“Soooo?” You mumble and he sighs, his forehead against yours 

“You remember that one time, we fell asleep together on the couch after dinner?” 

“The one Buck has a picture of?” You snicker and he nods, chuckling. 

“Mhm that one” 

“Yeah, what about it?” 

“I stared at that picture for days… I- I had it set as my screensaver for a bit too until Buck caught me. I couldn’t stop looking at you... how pretty you looked with your head on my shoulder, how right it felt to have my arms around you. I woke up actually, before you did. And I didn’t have the heart to move you, I wanted to stay like that forever.”

“You remember that day, that Bobby decided we needed a team-building exercise and we all went to the pool? And like it was totally just an excuse to go swimming because it was so freaking hot?” You bite your lip, your cheeks flushing as Eddie thinks about it 

“Yeah I think so, You wore that stupid Baywatch swimsuit” 

“Okay just because it had high sides does not make it a Baywatch swimsuit” You snort and slap his chest “Anyway god, shut up. I didn’t want to get in because it was too freaking cold” 

“And I tackled you in” He laughs, burying his face in your shoulder and you hit his shoulders again 

“Yeah, you freaking did! And. You brought me back up… and while I was cursing you out, you um- you were kind of-“

“My story was so much more wholesome” He interrupts you again and you groan loudly, “That’s it I’m not-“ 

“No, no, please! Please I promise I’ll shut up now I promise!” 

You glare at him and sigh before continuing “You had me…p-pinned to your body, to keep me warm. And you know, fuck did that make me warm. I’ve never blushed so hard- and you just thought I was upset” 

“I could not get enough of you in that swimsuit, Buck had to reign me in so many times-“ 

“Wait, so you’re saying Buck knows?” You pull away a little and he rolls his eyes again 

“Y/N I’m pretty sure the entire damn team knows at this point.” 

“Knows…what?” You look up at him as if you both hadn’t just clearly admitted you had feelings and he narrows his eyes at you, picking you up and pinning you back against the wall. You squeak and wrap your legs around his waist while clinging to his neck 

“That I’m in love with you.” 

He leans in, his lips finding yours in a soft, tender kiss. It's slow and gentle, filled with a longing that's been brewing between you both for a while.

As your lips part, Eddie deepens the kiss, his hands sliding down your back to cup your hips, pulling you closer. The water continues to pour over you, the only sound in the room besides your soft moans and the rustling of your bodies against each other.

He deeply enjoys holding you in his arms, the new angle allows him to explore your mouth more deeply, his tongue dancing with yours as he presses you against the wall more, the tiles cool against your back.

He can feel your heart racing, mirroring his own. His hands roam over your body, cupping your breasts and giving them a gentle squeeze.

Eddie finally breaks the kiss, trailing kisses down your neck, nibbling at your skin as he whispers, "I've wanted to do this for so long."

“So have I” You admit quietly, your skin tingling, burning with every place it meets his. 

Eddie's heart swells at your confession. "Then let's not waste any more time," he murmurs, kissing you, his hands exploring your body, cupping your breasts, teasing your nipples, and trailing down your sides. He can feel your desire growing, and it fuels his own, he can’t bear to keep his hands off you 

You squirm against him, your breath hitching when you feel him poking at your entrance. The tip alone seems so thick, that a shudder rolls down your spine and you tilt your head back against the cool tiles

Eddie can't help but smirk at your reaction, his own breath hitching as he feels your wetness against his tip. "Ready for me, Y/N?" He asks, his voice thick with desire.

He waits for your nod before slowly pushing inside you, inch by agonizing inch. He can feel your tightness, your warmth enveloping him, and it sends shivers down his spine.

Your eyes flutter shut, your nails digging into his shoulders as you adjust to his size. Eddie holds still, giving you time to adjust, his own heart pounding in his chest.

He reaches down, his fingers finding your wetness, and he begins to tease you, circling your clit, feeling your body tremble in response. "You're so wet for me, Y/N," he whispers, his voice thick with desire. 

“And y-you’re so fucking big” you pant out, desperately squirming on his cock, and that just drives him crazy 

Eddie grins, his thrusts becoming more urgent now, his hips rocking against yours in a steady rhythm. "You like that, baby girl?" He asks, his voice low and husky, his own pleasure building with each thrust.

He leans down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, his tongue dancing with yours as he continues to move inside you. The water continues to pour over you both, the steam filling the room, as you and Eddie lose yourselves in the moment, not caring how much noise you’re making

Your nails dig into his shoulders, your body trembling with pleasure, your moans muffled against his lips. Eddie can't help but groan, his own pleasure building, his heart pounding in his chest.

He reaches between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit again, teasing it with gentle strokes, his thumb brushing against your entrance. Your orgasm hits you suddenly, like a truck. The added sensations send you over the edge, your body convulsing against him as you cry out his name.

Eddie follows suit, his own release washing over him, his body trembling with pleasure as he spills his hot seed inside you. You stand there for a moment, your bodies still connected, your breaths heavy and ragged.

Finally, Eddie pulls out, catching you as you stumble, your legs weak from how hard he was going. He sets you down on the shower floor, his arms around you, holding you close as you both catch your breath.

“Hey, Eddie?” Your hands are shaking as you place them on his chest, feeling his heartbeat as you slide them over his shoulders and hang onto him 

“Hmm?” He seems a little dazed, nuzzling his nose against your neck, inhaling your body wash

“Just so you know, I’m in love with you too” 

“Oh really? I wasn’t sure. I mean I know I just had the best sex of my life-“

You swat his chest as you’re rolling your eyes “Oh shut- wait? Like, like the best sex ever?” 

He chuckles into your shoulder, nodding his head “Mhmmm. Never felt like this before. What about you? Was I enough to rock your world?” 

You grin at him slyly, poking his chest “Yeah but I would say the best” you tease and he smacks your butt, snickering when you yelp 

“Are you shitting me? You were seeing stars baby girl and you know it” 

“Oh I am sooo not feeding your ego” You scoff and he picks you back up, pushing you back against the wall again. You squawk awkwardly and scramble to hold onto him 

“Okay well since you wanna be a brat, I guess I’m just going to have to try again” 

“If that’s what-“

“Jesus Christ please, I’m begging you don’t do it again” You hear Buck's voice from a couple stalls over and you nearly scream 

“Buck!” You flail as Eddie refuses to put you down, laughing into your chest 

“Just tell him it was the fucking best! I just want to shower in peace!!!” He wails dramatically 

“God you two are constantly scarring me for life”

[samkerrworshipper]

heyyy guys

had heaps of reqs for some daddy lucy smut and i haven’t been able to finish any of it lol so i thought i’d give you all a little blurb/sneak peek so enjoy! if y’all like this i’d be willing to finish it just lmk !

spanking & implied smut warning minors dni

daddy?… sorry

lucy bronze x reader

——————————————————————

“Can you remind me how we have found ourselves in this position?”

You decided to punish me? Were the words running through my head, but I didn’t have anywhere near enough nerve to vocalise those thoughts, not considering the position I was already in.

“I broke your rules.”

I flinched as another slap came down on my ass, 11, 12, 13, 14. I tried my best not to move, not to make any noise, knowing that it would only make things worse for me.

“Our rules, and what rule would that be?”

Her words were punctuated with another set of spanks, this time falling what felt like a centimetre below the previous one, 15, 16, 17. This time I let out a little bit of a cry, bucking slightly in my position, trying to find some kind of release from the pain that was being administered to me, Lucy’s arm held my hips steady though, her hold hard enough to tell me that my movement was not permitted.

“I put myself in danger on the field and I put someone else in danger.”

In my defence, I hadn’t really meant to slide tackle the girl so aggressively, I think I’d hurt myself more in the process then she had. We’d both been running full speed down the field and one second we were running and then the next I was throwing my feet out in front of her and we were colliding. Lucy slapped her palm down against my ass another three times, earning a groan from me and the feeling of tears prickling at the edges of my eyes.

“Hm, why?”

I took a deep breath as another set of spanks fell down across my ass. 18, 19, 20, 21, 22. I felt the tears start to leak down my face, dripping down and onto the carpet below me.

“I thought she was going to shoot for goal, I had to stop her.”

My words were followed up very quickly with another set of slaps that echoed across the walls of our bedroom, making a cacophonous noise rebounding back at us. I could hear the sound of Lucy’s hand connecting with my ass, and it hurt, it hurt like a bitch.

“So you made the choice to put both you and her in danger because she decided she was going to shoot for goal?”

23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28. I let out a sob as Lucy’s hand continued to slap down against my skin, the mixture of the burning sensation and stinging starting to get to me. She left just enough time between the spanks for me to feel the sting but not enough time that it started to mellow out.

“I didn’t think that it was going to be that bad.”

I knew my words would fall on deaf ears, she wouldn’t have been punishing me if she thought that I hadn’t intended to cause some harm in the process of my actions.

“A red card and the girl getting stretchered off is pretty bad if you ask me.”

The red card was probably the worst part, especially considering that we’d been down by a point when I’d been sent off the pitch, leaving us with ten players to scrap to get a goal.

“I didn’t mean for her to get hurt.”

29, 30, 31, 32.

“What did you mean to do then? Because you can’t tell me that when you were flinging yourself at her knees and decking her that you didn’t understand the possibility of you or her getting injured. Explain to me what rule number 7 is?”

Tears and snot were basically free flowing down my face at this stage.

“To never put myself in a position where I could harm myself.”

Each word that left my mouth was punctuated by a slap. 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44.

“And how did you act today?”

45, 46, 47, 48.

Each slap drew a sob from my chest, loud sobs that I was completely unapologetic for producing. Lucy wasn’t holding back whatsoever, not that I expected her to, she never took it easy on me.

“In a way that could have harmed me.”

49, 50.

“Not just in a way that could harm you, but also in a way that could harm another person. You could have easily broken one of her legs or knees, or concussed her, the possibilities of what you could have done are endless. Maybe you didn’t mean to hurt her, but you still did. When this happens in the future we are going to find ourselves back here, is that understood?”

I nodded quickly, the tears and snot still dripping down my face without stopping.

“Y-yes, daddy.”

[ladelinee]

As promised, 50s Elvis was the winning choice in the survey for my next fic. So here it is! I hope you enjoy 💕

♡ Summary: Red is introducing his friend Elvis to the group. You're not in the mood for it, so Elvis starts teasing and irritating you. 50elvis!xreader; Fluff.

♡ Word count: 4K

Saturday night

As you reached for your favourite cherry red lipstick, you found yourself looking in the mirror. With a final dusting of powder to complete the look, you smiled at your reflection, pleased with how you looked.

You heard your favorite song, "All I Have To Do Is Dream", playing on the radio. Your friend, Betty, started singing along and fixing her soft blonde hair in the mirror next to you.

Saturday night was always your favorite night of the week. It was the time you would meet up with your group of friends. Before going out, hours would be spent in your room with the girls, getting ready and planning what to wear or do to look great and impress the boys.

"Are we running late?" You asked, still trying to decide between the yellow dress and the pink one.

"Don't worry" Betty replied, applying blush on her cheeks as she spoke. "We won't be late. Red is always the last to arrive, so we have plenty of time."

“By the way, guess what?” Nancy, the group rebel, chimed in as she looked through the row of perfumes on your dresser. “He’s bringing a new friend with him tonight.”

"Oh, great. Can’t wait." You rolled your eyes and forced a sarcastic smile.

Dealing with a new person was the last thing you needed tonight. Having to censor yourself and deal with some idiot ruining the mood was not something you were looking forward to.

“Oh, come on,” Nancy teased. “Don’t be such a downer. Maybe this new guy will actually be cool.”

You rolled your eyes again, scepticism all over your face. “Yeah, I’m sure he’ll be just as amazing as the last five.”

The diner on the main street was the perfect spot to kick off the night. Pretty much everyone from high school ended up there at some point, grabbing a bite to eat and exchanging the latest town gossip.

As you, Betty, and Nancy got in, your friends, who had already settled in at your usual booth, began clicking their tongues in a playful way, letting you know that you had kept them waiting.

You huffed in response.

"Awesome! We just need Red now. Once he shows up, we can order" Nick exclaimed chuckling, he was the most impatient one in our group. You could even hear his tummy rumbling from your position.

“Oh yeah, he's coming with this new guy. He is in a different class. I have never seen him, but I’m quite excited to have another pal to play football” Arthur, his best friend, added.

As the conversation dragged on, their voices all blended into background noise. You totally lost interest in what they were saying about him. You rolled your eyes, and let out a sigh, thinking to yourself, "Fantastic, the night is starting out real great”

Then the conversation went from gossip about who hooked up at the drive-in to that crazy incident where someone puked in the school's equipment storage. Then, the diner doors swung open, and everyone turned to see who was coming in.

You all watched as Red strolled in like he owned the place, swinging the doors open like some cowboy in a movie. Couldn’t miss that shaggy hair of his, he threw a look back at his buddy as they came in.

You became curious about how his friend looked. Behind Red, you could spot a guy of the same height as him, maybe a little bit taller, looking down while rearranging his slicked-back black hair. Did he have sideburns? The weirdest thing you had ever seen.

Then he glanced around, noticing everyone checking them out. That's when you got the full picture of him. He had on a black lace shirt and beige trousers, he was not exactly built like a tank but definitely in good shape. His face was friendly, with blue eyes, a straight nose leading to plush lips, and a perfect smile.

You watched as both guys walked towards your table. Your heart thumped loudly in your chest. It was obvious that he was the popular type, the kind who gets whatever he wants without a care in the world. You thought to yourself, "Are you kidding me? I can't be friends with a self-centred jerk like him. He's nothing but trouble."

Red greeted everyone and then turned to the new guy, introducing him. "Hey, guys, meet my buddy Elvis" pointing at him.

Elvis jumps in with a friendly smile, "Hi, nice to meet y'all."

Betty and Nancy were totally swooning, practically drooling over him. Pathetic.

You made a conscious decision to keep your mouth shut and avoid sharing any personal information. You knew from experience that people like him would take any juicy tidbit and use it to taunt and bully. Not this time. You'd remain poker-faced, giving him no ammunition to use against you.

Red glanced at your face, noticing your expression of indifference and annoyance. He chuckled slightly and told Elvis, "This is y/n. Don't mind her, she's just having a bad day."

Red gave you a quick knowing look, silently asking, "What's going on? You okay?"

“Well finally we are all together, now we can get some food!” Nick said interrupting. Then the whole group went to the queue to order, leaving you and Elvis alone.

Elvis flashed a friendly smile and took a seat beside you. Sensing your silence and avoiding eye contact, he asked casually “Just not in a real talkative mood tonight?”

“Just tired” You replied. Well, it wasn’t a lie. Just tired…of all the nonsense.

His smile faded slightly at your tone, but he pushed through, even though he could tell you were not being straight with him. “...uh huh...well, then what’s makin’ ya so shy?”

“Not shy! I just don’t want to talk” You insisted, your voice giving away your nerves.

He raised an eyebrow at your defensiveness but kept grinning, staying chill. “Oh yeah? Then why’d you let me sit here?”

You blushed, but then you glanced around, making him realize he had you cornered in the booth. With a hint of resignation, you shrugged and said, “Well, I didn’t exactly have a choice, did I?”

Elvis chuckled softly at your stubbornness. “‘Didn’t have a choice’, huh? Oh, darlin’…” He shook his head, clearly amused by your banter. Leaning back on the seat, he casually dropped his arm across the backrest, as if inviting you to relax. He smirked, seeing right through your tough act.

You sighed, resting your elbows on the table, your hands covering your face. Slightly uncomfortable under his gaze, you muttered, "Stop staring at me. I can feel it."

He grinned widely as he kept staring at you, tilting his head and licking his lips. His eyes slowly travelled down your body and then back up to your face. “Sorry darlin’, but you’re sitting right in my line of vision.”

"Fine then, I'll switch seats," you muttered.

You moved to the other side of the booth and crossed your arms, determined not to look at him. However, whenever you did glance his way, his smile and the dimple on his cheek caught your eye.

Your focus on his smile was interrupted when your friends returned to the table with the food, bringing your long-awaited vanilla milkshake.

"You know, baby... that ain't gonna change much. I still got a perfect view of ya." Elvis replied, he winked and smirked at you once more as he grabbed his burger.

The girls exchanged glances and started chatting and laughing to lighten the mood, discussing weekend plans and some random gossip.

You seemed to paying more attention to them than you are to Elvis, so he is left with only one goal in mind: get your attention. With a playful sparkle in his eye, he grabbed a chip and tossed it at you.

He peeked at you and saw you were still trying to ignore him, so he sighed and got an idea. He took a huge bite of his burger and chewed loudly, making all crazy eating sounds. He grinned when he saw your eyes narrow in annoyance.

“Oh, could you just stop?” You asked, rolling your eyes. The girls were watching the whole situation with wide eyes and trying to hold back their laughter, but it was getting harder by the second. They’ve never seen you so riled up before.

As Elvis munched on his burger like a wild beast, Betty couldn't help but chime in,“Lord, Elvis, could you chew any louder? I don’t think the folks in China heard you.” She teased, trying not to laugh.

He grinned wider, with a playful glint in his eyes “Stop what, darlin’? Can’t a guy enjoy his burger in peace?” He asked innocently, clearly enjoying your reaction to him.

Red chuckled and patted Elvis on the back “Yeah, buddy, you’re really making an entrance today.” He joked, knowing Elvis was annoying you on purpose.

Elvis grinned innocently and swallowed part of his burger with a satisfied sigh. He then grabbed his coke and slowly started sipping through the straw, still watching you waiting for some sort of reaction. The group, including Red, started shaking his head at Elvis’ acts.

Nancy attempted to redirect the conversation. "Elvis, tell us more about yourself!" she asked.

You tried your best to tune out Elvis and ignore the conversation that centered around him, but the group's interest kept drawing your attention back to him.

He glanced at Nancy and grinned, clearly loving the attention. Leaning back, he crossed his arm over his chest while sipping his coke. "Well, what do you ladies wanna know?" He glanced over at you, catching your reaction to Nancy's question.

Nancy looked at the others, then back to Elvis “Just, like, what are you into? Do you have a girlfriend? How old are you?” She asked with a playful tone, giggling with Betty.

Elvis chuckled at her question and looked over at you before replying to Nancy “I’m into a lot of things, music mostly. No, no girlfriend at the moment, not sure what kinda girl could keep up with me.” He answers, his lip curved into a smile knowing you were listening.

"No one, to be honest" You snapped back rudely at his answer.

Elvis raised an eyebrow and grinned, amused by your rudeness “No one, huh? Think I’d be too much for anyone to handle, darlin’?”

The girls smiled, enjoying the banter between you and Elvis. Betty pipes up, giggling “Well, it’s not like anyone’s been able to handle her so far, Elvis.”

Elvis couldn't help but chuckle as he glanced over at you, picking up on your growing grumpiness. "That's true, isn't it, baby?"

You shoot Betty a deadly look. "What the fuck are you doing, Betty?" you thought to yourself. This is exactly why you didn't want to open up about personal stuff. You just knew he was going to make fun of you now. As if it was not already bad enough that you haven't been kissed at this age.

“Yeah! She has never been kissed before, Elvis!” Betty stated amused talking as if she had known him for ages. She didn’t have the right to say that.

Elvis’ eyes widen slightly at her comment, surprised. He looked over at you, taking in your annoyed expression and biting his lip to keep from laughing.

“No way, honey. Really?” He asked, faking disbelief.

Red laughed from the other side of the table, finding amusing to see the interaction. "Yeah, can you believe it?" he said, knowing that Elvis was really enjoying this information.

Elvis paused for a moment, a sly smirk playing on his lips as he looked at you. "No wonder you're the way you are, darlin'. All pent-up frustration, huh?"He teased, knowing it would get a rise out of you.

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. The thing you'd been trying so hard to avoid had actually happened, and it was all thanks to Betty. You were so mad that you just blurted out, "Can you just shut up?" You could feel your face getting all red from being so frustrated.

Elvis jokingly pretended to zip his lips and leaned in to listen to the lively conversation, but his eyes kept looking at you. When he saw that your milkshake was almost gone, he mischievously shifted closer and checked if anyone was watching. Since everyone was busy talking, he sneakily grabbed your milkshake, took a big sip, and grinned at you.

He winked as he swallowed a mouthful of your milkshake, then smacked his lips together and looked at your shocked face “Hmm, tastes good” He teased, enjoying every second of this.

“What in the hell are you doing???” You asked, getting on your nerves.

Elvis took another sip of your milkshake, making an exaggerated noise of pleasure as he swallowed. He then sets the glass down and he leaned closer to you, his knee brushing up against yours. “Ya mad at me now, baby?” He asked in a low devilish voice.

"What's your deal?" you barked, feeling totally embarrassed in front of everyone by that jerk.

“What ya gonna do, honey? Be mad at me? Well, ya already are” He teased, laughing at your obvious irritation.

Red laughed along with Elvis “Looks like someone's not happy at all” he commented.

Elvis looked at Red and leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms “Can't blame me, though. S'not my fault she's such an easy target” He shot a wink at you, enjoying riling you up.

Red chuckled and nudged Elvis' shoulder

"You flirtin' with her or what?" He asked with a smirk.

Elvis cracked up and shook his head "Nah, nothing like that. I'm just havin' a little fun, seeing how much I can piss her off" He looked over at you, noticing your grumpy expression "But seriously, darlin’. You gotta lighten up a bit. You're gonna spoil the night for everyone else."

You didn't know what to say after he spoke, so you just looked down at the floor, trying to figure out what he meant. It seemed like he was intentionally trying to bother you, with no other intentions, and you couldn't shake the feeling that your friends were annoyed with you because you were in a bad mood. As everyone else continued chatting without realizing the tension between you and Elvis, you felt more and more like no one understood you.

Out of nowhere, you stood up from your seat, and rushed towards the diner exit, tears rolling down your face. It felt like all of your emotions came rushing out at once, and you couldn't hold them back any longer. It seemed like everyone was really into Elvis and his charming personality, and it seemed like they preferred him over you.

Elvis and the others watched in surprise as you suddenly ran off.

"Whoa whoa whoa, where's she goin'?" Nick asked, stunned

Elvis pushed the table away to get up, went to the window to see where you went, and said, "I, uh...... I'll go talk to her," Without waiting for a reply, he quickly left the diner and started looking around for you.

Elvis hurried to catch up to you, determined to reach you. He finally saw you walking away, looking really upset, and felt even guiltier with every step.

"Wait up!" he called out, struggling to keep up with your fast pace. When he finally caught up and started walking beside you, he said, “Damn, you're fast, baby" trying to catch his breath. He stared at you, seeing the tears rolling down your face, and asked "Hey... where ya goin’ all angry and upset?"

"Leave me alone!" You managed to cry out, your voice shaking and tears streaming down your face. You couldn't stop the hysterical sobs that wracked your body, making it hard to speak through your hiccups.

Elvis felt bad seeing the anger and tears in your eyes. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling guilty for making you feel this way.

"Nah, can't do that, sweetheart. I gotta talk to ya," he says firmly, walking beside you at your pace.

Elvis stuffed his hands into his pockets, looking down at the ground as he walked. He took a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking up.

“M’sorry, I shouldn't have pushed so much at the diner. I went too far." He looked up at you, his eyes sincere. He took a deep breath and continued, "I was just trying to have some fun, you know, trying to get a reaction out of you. It wasn't right. I didn't mean it. Can ya forgive me?"

Elvis looked at you, seeing the tears still streaming down your face. You couldn't bring yourself to speak.

“Hey, hey, please don't cry anymore. I'm really sorry, darlin’. You didn't deserve that”

He paused for a moment,

“But you're great, ya know? Feisty, stubborn, and damn pretty too” He added.

He looked concerned as he reached into his pocket and took out a tissue. Slowly, he wiped away your tears while gazing into your eyes. "I’ll buy you the whole damn diner, darlin’. Any milkshake flavour, as many as you want. Anything to see you smile”

You and Elvis made eye contact, and you could see regret in his eyes. He took a step back, giving you some room to breathe. Despite any assumptions you had about him, there he was, trying to help you through this tough time. You felt a little relieved, even if you didn't want to admit it. And you had to admit, the way the light was hitting his face was pretty captivating.

He noticed your silent sigh, and a hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth

"Ya won't speak to me? No insults, no smart comeback? Am I that irresistible up close?" He teases, trying to lighten the mood

“Idiot…” you muttered, chuckling.

Elvis smiled widely, feeling a sense of relief to hear you chuckle. He tucks the tissue back into his pocket, still standing close to you.

"Ah, there it is. There's that feisty attitude I know" He teased, his eyes glimmering with mischief

You laughed at his response. “Well, the thing is, I didn’t expect anyone else to come with the group. And I had some personal stuff I didn’t want to share, like the fact that I haven’t been kissed… because I don’t want to hear some stranger making jokes and comments about it. I thought you might be that kind of jerk…” you said.

Elvis's expression softened as you mentioned your situation. He nodded and leaned against a nearby wall, stuffing his hands into his pockets again.

"I get it, darlin’. Sometimes ya just wanna keep things to yourself, especially when ya don't know the people you're with. I ain't tryin' to poke fun at yer troubles"

He looked at you again, his eyes holding a hint of vulnerability “So I hope ya don’t think too badly of me after this, darlin’”

Elvis took a deep breath and looked at you. He stepped closer, and before you knew it, he pulled you into a hug. You were a bit surprised at first, but as he pulled you close, you noticed the faint scent of his hair gel and the clean, woodsy scent of his cologne. He held you tightly, one hand resting on your waist while the other gently patted your back.

He whispered into your ear "M’really sorry, darlin’. For everything." As he hugged you tighter, he kept talking, "I've been focused on you the whole night, and I guess I let my dumb teasing get out of control." He paused, his face buried in the crook of your neck, and you could feel his warm breath against your skin, causing a slight shiver to run down your spine.

Your heart was racing. No one had ever given you such a warm hug. Feeling remorse, you said, "I'm sorry I didn't make you feel welcome either."

Elvis let out a soft chuckle against your neck, his chest vibrating with the sound. He kept his arms wrapped around you, not ready to let go just yet. "I deserved that. I was acting like a real sonofabitch" he said as he pulled back slightly to look you in the eyes.

"But I'm glad we're good now, baby. That's all I care about," he said with a tender smile, pinching your cheek.

He looked down at your face and saw the hint of a blush on your cheeks. His grin grew wider, and he couldn't resist teasing you a little more. "What's this? Is the tough girl feeling a bit flustered?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You wish!!!” You let out, trying to hide your embarrassment.

Elvis laughed at your fast denial and crossed his arms "Aw, come on. You’re terrible at hiding it, darlin’."

He took a step closer, a smirk on his lips "I can practically hear your heart racing" he growled.

Elvis locked his piercing blue eyes onto your lips, drawing closer until his chest almost touched yours. Your heart quickened as you felt his nearness, his gaze fixed on your lips, inching closer to your face.

You closed your eyes, heart racing, waiting for a kiss. Your first kiss. Seconds ticked by, but nothing happened. Elvis didn't close the gap between you both. Instead, he just grinned wider, teasing you with that mischievous smile, inches away from your face, clearly enjoying your anticipation.

He left you staying like that for a second, then spoke, his voice low and amused “I knew it. You were hoping for a kiss, weren’t ya?”

"OH MY GOD, I JUST HATE YOU SO MUCH!!" Your cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, betraying your inner agitation.

Elvis bursted out laughing, bending over and clutching his stomach. Your annoyed look and outburst just made him laugh even harder.

"Oh, I love it when you get all riled up like that!" He managed to say between laughs.

You kept stomping away from Elvis, totally ticked off about what went down.

Elvis quickly got himself together, his laughter fading into a wide grin as he noticed your embarrassed expression. He hurried after you, catching up in just a few strides.

"Oh, don’t be mad now, darlin’. I was just having a bit of fun. Can't blame me for wanting to see your cute, flustered face"

As you kept walking, still grumbling about how much you ‘hate him’, Elvis walked beside you, his smile never leaving his lips. He listened to your muttered complaints, and suddenly his eyes sparkled with mischief.

Out of nowhere, he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you close to him. Before you had a chance to protest, he pressed his lips against yours in a swift, unexpected kiss.

The unexpected kiss left you speechless, your frustrated words stuck in your throat. Elvis enjoyed the sensation of your lips on his for a moment, then pulled back slightly to gaze into your eyes.

"You were saying something about hating me, baby?" He smirked, his voice filled with a smug satisfaction.

Your heart was racing, partly from surprise and partly from the lingering feeling of his kiss, but you attempted to stay composed. You shot him a glare, though there's no real anger in your eyes—just a touch of confusion.

Finally, you found your voice “You…..you idiot. Why’d you go and do that?”

Elvis chuckled, his hand still at your waist, holding you steady “Couldn’t help myself, darlin’. You looked too cute when you were all mad at me. I had to do something to shut you up”

He smiled, pulling you closer to him “Besides, you clearly enjoyed it” He teased, winking at you.

Your cheeks kept blushing, you didn't want to admit that you loved it. So, you gave him a little slap on his arm.

Elvis playfully gasped and rubbed his arm where you smacked him, still grinning. “Ouch! Feisty as always, baby” he teased, chuckling as he guided you back towards the diner.

“Alright, I guess I had that coming. But now, here’s the tough part. Chocolate, peanut butter, vanilla, or strawberry milkshake?” Elvis asked, raising his eyebrows up and down. God, he was really set on treating you to the whole diner, just like he promised.

“What about peanut butter?” You chuckled, feeling butterflies in your stomach watching Elvis holding your hand.

“Atta girl, you sure have a good taste, baby.”

🍨

[gintrinsic-writing]

A Fuckless Year

It’s just a kiss, Legend tells himself. Just a kiss. One stupid, little kiss. This is, like, the least frightening thing I’ve ever faced. 

Oh hells, who is he kidding? This is terrifying. 

Ravio leans in ever so slightly. “Pardon? You, uh...” 

“What?” Legend blurts uncomfortably.

“You said good night, and then you…” Ravio clears his throat lightly. “You paused and looked at me. With your eyes.”

Legend almost laughs. Instead, he makes a sound like a dying frog, then waves both hands in denial. “How else am I supposed to look at you, idiot?” he asks, knowing exactly what Ravio meant. 

“Shrill,” Ravio accuses. Legend hopes the chain can’t hear them from the guest bedrooms. “You only ever sound shrill when you’re guilty!”

“I was—” Legend clears his throat and purposely makes his voice deeper. “I was not shrill. I’ve never been shrill in my life.”

Ravio pinches the bridge of his nose. The tips of his ears are endearingly pink. “Link…”

It’s just a kiss! You’re the goddess-damned Hero of Courage! Act like it! 

But instead Legend stands there like a loser, palms unreasonably sweaty, heart racing like it hasn’t since the last time fought that pig Ganon. He inhales slowly and counts to three, prepared to, well, do something, maybe, but Ravio suddenly holds out a hand. 

“Hey,” Ravio murmurs, expression soft and achingly affectionate, “let’s go to bed.”

Legend’s jaw drops before he can help it, and his entire face burns. “B-bed?” He yanks off his hat and runs a hand through his hair. He can’t seem to decide where to stare. “You—But I—We haven’t even—We should at least kiss first!”

Ravio’s face goes through at least four stages of grief, by Legend’s rapid approximation. Ravio slaps his palms together as if about to pray, then presses his fingertips to his lips. His eyes are comically wide. “Link, my hero, my best customer, my regular headache—what?”

“You were the one who said let’s go to bed!” 

Legend slaps a hand over his mouth as soon as he finishes shouting. They both wince in tandem, eyeing the stairs, but there’s no noise from the others. Legend just knows there’ll be embarrassing hell to pay come morning, though. He drops his voice to a whisper: “You said bed. Did you—Oh fuck, you didn’t mean…?”

“No!” Ravio whispers back. “I mean, not that I’m opposed, but.”

Legend’s throat is so fucking dry. “You’re not opposed,” he repeats dumbly. 

“Of course not! But just then, I meant sleep. Which people do in bed. You have a bed. Your own bed.” Ravio’s ears droop as his own dumb words catch up to him. “It was simply an invitation to retire for the night, separately!”

“But,” and Legend can’t seem to move past this point, Din burn him, “but you’re not opposed?”

“Ohhh my Goddess!” Ravio hisses. “What are you, some closeted creep? If you must know, then yes, I’m interested. I have been for a fucking year! Or should I say, a fuckless year, thanks to you and your stupid—your stupid—” He grips the air as if strangling some invisible menace. “You’re inept!”

Legend doesn’t think his self-esteem can get any lower at this point. “It’s not like you’ve been giving clues,” he begins weakly, but clearly that’s the wrong thing to say.

“Haven’t been giving clues? Haven’t been giving clues!” Ravio half-shouts. “The discounts? The lingering smiles? The robe slipping off my bare shoulder?”

Legend remembers that. He’s remembered it many, many times. “...Oh.”

Ravio throws his hands up in despair. “Oh, he says! Oh!”

The silence that follows is painfully, painfully awkward. At least on Legend’s part. “So…”

Ravio’s jaw works in silence for a moment. “Yes?”

Legend thinks dying must surely be less painful than this. “A kiss?”

Ravio holds up a finger threateningly. Legend wishes it wasn’t such a turn-on. “I swear to every Goddess in existence, after all you’ve put me through, if this isn’t the best kiss I’ve ever had, I’ll sell your hide for a single rupee.” 

“Wow,” Legend breathes. “You really know how to make a guy feel confident.”

“And I don’t need your stupid—”

Legend pulls Ravio in by his robe and slots their mouths together, kissing like each taste is a breath, like each spark is a measure of adoring warmth on an otherwise chilly night. He chases Ravio’s mouth and is chased in turn, until suddenly he realizes he's pressed against a wall and gasping from lightheadedness. 

“Rav,” he begins, having no idea what he actually wants to say. 

“Maybe…” Ravio takes a moment to simply breathe. “Maybe more than one rupee. Maybe fifty.”

“Fifty?” Legend repeats incredulously, then laughs. He hopes the others don't wake, but he doesn't really care if they do. “That’s it?”

Ravio licks his lips and presses closer. “Maybe a hundred, I’m not sure.”

“Sucked the math right out of you, huh?” Legend jokes, only belatedly realizing what an opening he has given the greedy salesman. 

Ravio’s grin is downright devilish. “Now there’s an idea.”

Legend prays. 

—

Part 2 (sort of nsfw)

[phantomspiderr]

heart beating ~ mike schmidt

a/n ~ brain decided when I was half delirious with sleep it wanted to write this so here we are, first fnaf fic let’s gooo

You wince the second the old, battered door handle squeaks. Hoping so badly that you haven’t disturbed Abby who’s just fallen asleep after a battle to get her in bed in the first place. Or worse you’ve woken Mike who went to bed hours ago, complaining about the pain in his head. You try your best to quietly slip into his bedroom, choosing not to close the door fully as to avoid the noisy handle.

The room is cast in darkness, the only source of light coming from the measly alarm clock on his bedside table. You have to squint your eyes, not that it helps much, as they adjust to the lack of light. Slowly, you shuffle around the room, flinching when you bump into the corner of the bed. You use your fumble to guide you along the bottom of the bed, stripping yourself of your clothes as you go and throwing them in pile to deal with tomorrow. Eventually, your hands connect with some drawers, now in search of pyjamas or at least one of Mike’s tshirts to put on. Every little noise you make seems to be amplified in the silence.

“You could just turn on a light.” Mike’s voice is muffled and hoarse, it’s evident he’s just woke up. You don’t know why but your body tensed the second he spoke, eyes shutting tight and a wave of guilt washes over you.

“Sorry,” it’s the only word that runs through your head but your body relaxes when soft light floods the room. You look at Mike, laid on his back with an arm draped over his eyes. The blankets are bunched around his waist and all you can think about is how you want to crawl into bed with him right now. That tiredness that hadn’t noticed until now seeps into your bones, eyes instantly growing heavy the longer you think about it.

Your hands quickly grab a tshirt from the open drawer, now that you can see. You slip it over your head as you hastily make your way to the bed again, climbing in and immediately laying next to him. You prop yourself up on one of your elbows so you can look down at Mike, a hand gently sinking into his hair. Mike lets out a long sigh as your fingers delicately press into his scalp.

“You okay?” Concern makes its way onto your face, your eyebrows knitting together and head swimming with ways to make him feel better.

“Feel better now you’re here.” Your face instantly relaxes hearing his words and a smile makes its way onto your face when peeks one eye out from under his arm.

“You’re sweet but how do you really feel?” His eyes close again when your fingers press a little harder.

“Tired, just want to sleep.” That’s all it takes for you to reach over him, snuffing out the only light in the room. In tandem you both shuffle around a little, Mike wraps an arm around you and pulls you to his chest and you mould your body to his until you’re comfortable. There’s a few moments of silence, the rhythmic thumping of his heart the only thing you can really hear.

“I can hear your heart beating.” You point out the obvious. Mike lets out a deep breath before replying, “Good. You tell me if it stops okay?”

A quiet giggle escapes you, “okay.”