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eetherealgoddess · 9 months ago

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TR: ꨄYANDERE ONE NIGHT STAND HEADCANONSꨄ

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

Characters are 18+

❦Idc how bad you want it, do NOT wake up to these mfs❦

Not fully proofread

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Mikey: You didn’t expect to see a man lying next to you in your bed, let alone him being a friend of yours from childhood. You almost didn’t recognize him considering the black hair that’s falling down his back and shoulders. His body curved to the side as you stared in shock at the back of his head. You peeked over and almost cursed when you realized who he was.

You don’t remember the night before but picking the covers up and eyeing both of your naked bodies, you could only hope you had used protection. When you eased off of the bed, you snatched your clothes off the floor. Your eyebrows furrowed at the hoodie and sweats that indicate you hadn’t gone to a bar or club. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t figure out how running into each other would have resulted in the two of you in the same bed.

Once your clothes were on, you rushed to the door to avoid an awkward greeting. You wanted to see if your parents had made it home and noticed anything. Yes, you’re an adult but you still live under your parents roof and they never liked Mikey. They always thought of him as a bad influence which sucked for you because you actually had a little crush on him. They forbade him from the house and at some point made it a rule for you to not be friends anymore.

Having been young, you had to listen. They’re pretty strict so the tracking device prevented you from sneaking around. Honestly, you didn’t have many friendships because of your parents so you would only go to school, home, and occasionally the park. You only recently were allowed to have nights out as long as you paid attention in your college classes. You were scared that your parents would kick you out if they saw the display so you hurried out the door.

The putrid smell of the house slapped your face, a palm going over your nose as your eyes watered. You continue to walk through the hall to the living room, gasping when you see the corpses of your parents. You gagged up vomit, belching and coughing as tears spilled from your eyes. Your body trembles as you drop to your knees, eyeing their unrecognizable faces considering it looks as though their faces were beaten repeatedly, a large gash in the middle of their faces with blood puddling around them.

Having thrown on his black pants, he followed the wails that woke him up. His shoulder leaning against the wall and arms crossed over his bare chest, Mikey’s dark eyes gaze at you from the hall. He hadn’t meant for you to see such a gruesome scene. The pill he put in your drink two nights ago should’ve kept you asleep at least for a few days. He planned to take you home today considering he got carried away the nights before, libido high from the adrenaline rush he had from ridding both of you of the blockage that kept you two apart. He pushed himself off the wall and walked towards you.

Jolting, you looked up at him from your kneeled position with wide eyes. He sets his hand on your head and crouches down.

“You’re gonna be good so I don’t have to knock you out, kay?” Hesitantly, you nod your head. He smiles softly before standing up and holding out a hand for you to take, helping you on your feet as you hold yourself up with shaky legs, gaze stuck on your deceased parents as you walk back to the bedroom.

Kazutora: You pant heavily as moans echoed throughout the room, bucking your hips up as your ex boyfriend’s thrusts meet yours. Your fingers grip his shoulders before wrapping your arms around his neck, his cock aiming deeper inside of your walls as he grinds into you, hitting your g-spot with each rutt. He moans into your ear as he nibbles and sucks your earlobe, one of his hands placed on top of your head as his other hand grips the cushion of the bed.

“Kazu, I’m gonna cum!” You whimper out as you grind harder against him, the head of his cock pounding against the erogenous zone that causes your hands to turn into fists as you throw your head back. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your back arches.

“Cum on this cock, baby.” His husky voice whispers against your ear as he continues the same pace, purposefully bringing you to an orgasm as you moan loudly, yelling a curse as you hold your hips in place. Suddenly, he pulls back and grabs a hold of your thighs, holding them up before thrusting at a faster pace, his hair draping over as he leans over, your hands gripping his shoulders once more as your mouth hangs open, feet next to your head.

The bed rocks as he roughly thrusts into you, cream oozing out of your pussy and dripping to your ass. You couldn’t help but release shaky moans as he used your pussy to bring himself to an orgasm. Your eyes widen as you watch his expression morph into the familiar look he makes when he’s about to cum.

“Pull out!” You yell as your eyebrows furrow from the overstimulation, hands moving to his chest.

“M’ gonna cum so fucking deep in this pussy.” He moans out, panting as his hips become sloppier, his fingers squeezing your thighs tightly. You yank his hair back in an attempt to pull him out of you only for him to moan out as he thrusts his hips harder, his eyes fluttering closed as his mouth hangs open.

He pressed his cock deep inside you as you felt his seed shoot inside. Both of you moan out as he slowly grinds his orgasm out, you pressing your hips against him as you cream out another orgasm. He lays on top of you as he pushes himself inside you more, holding himself in place to make sure all of his semen has nowhere to go but inside your hole.

“No, no, no! Kazutora, I told you to pull out!” You smack his sweaty back as he breathes deeply against your neck.

“It’s fine.” You both grunt as he pushes inside of you more, his arms hugging around your head.

“No it’s not! Now you have to get me a plan b!”

He sits up as he chuckles before pulling his hips back and shoving into you again before beginning a slow pace. You bite your lip to hold back from moaning.

“Uh, uh. You’re gonna keep it and we’re going to raise it together.” He grins as he holds your legs back up.

“Are you crazy? I have a fiancé now! I can’t get pregnant!” He pins your arms above your head after you try to push him off.

“That’s too bad.” He says before thrusting at a faster pace. He breeds you over and over again the rest of the night, your pussy full of nothing but his sperm.

The next day, you bought a plan b, walking to your car after you left the store. Before you could get in your seat, you were grabbed from behind and pulled into a chest with a knife against your throat.

“Take it and I will slice your neck and kill your fiance after sending everyone in your family the video I took of us last night. Do you understand?” He says softly against your ear. You nod frantically as he takes the bag out of your hand. He pecks your cheek before releasing you.

“Glad we got back together, Y/n. It’ll be good for the baby.”

Ran: You wake up in a penthouse, the huge bedroom displaying a luxury you’ve never seen in person until last night. You were surprised that someone so loaded would go to a run down club such as the place you work at and choose you, a low class stripper, to spend the night with. You wouldn’t normally go home with anyone, but this man was charming and beautiful. You could tell he was expensive just by his demeanor and what he wore. You had no clue why he spotted you, gazing at you when he first walked in. When you made eye contact, you knew it would be a good night.

He made it worthwhile, treating you delicately, all the while pounding into you from behind as his nails left scratch marks all over you. Whispering soft words as he talked you through each orgasm while shoving his cock so hard that your skin smacked loudly against each other. His hold felt good against you, bodies molding together as you gripped the sheets of the bed, his sweat mixing with yours as he thrusts deeply inside of you.

“Work at my club.” He says while tracing your arm as you lie on his bare chest, the morning light seeping through the thin curtains as your legs are tangled together. You didn’t hesitate to accept the offer. Working at his club brought you more money, as well as high end living. You moved out of your grimy apartment to a luxury loft near his penthouse. One of his drivers would give you limitless rides to wherever you had ordered. You made connections and created a better life for yourself, with his help of course. You’re clearly the boss’s favorite, damn near living with him as he always brought you to his home at the end of a work night. Even on your off days you would end up at his place, waking up naked in his bed.

Whenever you had vip performances, there was a no touch policy for you specifically no matter the circumstances. As you rolled your hips against a stranger’s lap, he grabbed your ass and pulled you onto his covered bulge, bucking his hips against you. You yelp as you try to release yourself from the man’s grip, only for him to hold you down and groan. You curse at him before turning and back handing his face.

He shoves you to the ground, standing up from the seat as he hovers over you. He pulls his arm back, ready to land a punch to your cheek. A bang echoed through the room as blood splattered on your face and front body. The man’s headless body pauses before dropping limp on the ground, his jaw hanging as red covers him. You pant as your eyes stare wide at the corpse. Footsteps come towards you from behind as hands reach around your waist and pick you up from the floor.

“Sorry I didn’t come sooner.” He says casually as he leans in to kiss your forehead. “Let’s go home, yeah?” Still gazing at the body oozing blood, you nod your head with a trembling lip. He rubs your back as you both walk out. When you both lied in bed that night, you couldn’t get the man’s headless body out of your mind. Sure, he deserved something bad to happen to him, but the way Ran shot him so effortlessly was a little troubling for you. Regardless of the mixed feelings you held, you couldn’t help the side of you that was excited that a man like him protected you from danger.

“You no longer work at the club. You only work for me.” You were forced to move in with him for ‘your own safety,’ as well as giving all your personal details to him so he can take care of you completely. He paid for everything and even dressed you himself. He really molded you into his perfect doll. You couldn’t really get mad about the lack of freedom considering you had no more worries. In fact you were a little scared that he would give it all up once another stripper caught his eye.

“I could never replace my favorite doll.” With that sentence alone, your whole mindset changed. You realize that what you were receiving wasn’t real. Everything was to mold you into his little object. His toy. You don’t know why it hurt you as bad as it did, but you knew you had to leave.

The next day, you told him, “I think it’d be best if we stopped seeing each other. Our relationship is way past professional and I want my own life back.” He only stares at you as he sits on his office chair, stoic expression as his legs are crossed.

“You’re having a bad day. You should get some rest.” He states. Your eyebrows furrowed.

“No, I’m serious. This needs to end right now.” He stands up from his seat, walking towards you before gently grabbing your chin and wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Are you sure?” He questions. You nod your head, ignoring his affection no matter how bad you wanted it. He releases you before walking back to his seat. He sits down and props his legs on the desk. You froze when you turned to walk away, a gun cocking behind you. You turn your gaze to him in shock and fear.

“Why do you look so scared, Y/n? You wanted this to end, right?” His expression shows a sly smile, elbow resting on the table as he lazily points the gun at you. Keeping his gaze fixed on yours, he leans over the desk, both elbows on the table, placing his feet on the ground.

“Or, were you mistaken?” You couldn’t move, your hairs standing up on your limbs as you breathed heavily. Your body is tense as you eye the barrel of the weapon.

“Were. You. Mistaken?” He reiterated, awaiting a response as his eyes narrowed.

“Y-yes, I made a mistake.” He nodded, “Mhm,” before setting his gun on the desk.

“I’ll meet you in the bedroom for a nap.” He smiled as he waved you off.

Rin: You hadn’t expected the drunken night to go as good as it did. Having been broken up with the day of, you decided to go out and find a random person to take home. Of course, this isn’t something you usually do, but you need something, or someone to distract you.

You had initially walked into the club with your friends by your side, but after a few shots the whole night became blurred, you all losing each other in the process.

The alcohol saved you from the thoughts that wanted to race your mind, instead you searched the crowd for someone who would be the perfect fit for tonight. Coming across a purple mullet, you knew exactly who you wanted. You downed another shot before reaching the upstairs dance floor.

You didn’t really care about anything but getting this stranger in your pants so when you reached him, you tapped his shoulder. You almost change your mind, anxiety forming when you see how attractive he is, though the alcohol in your system keeps you from folding to your insecurities.

“You wanna get out of here?” You question, swallowing your pride as his intimidating gaze locks you in a chokehold. You perk up at his smirk.

“Sure.”

Excitement causes you to grab his arm and pull him out of the club. He informs you of his driver and you allow him to take you to his place. When you both get there, you immediately pounce on him. Your lips drunkenly move against his as his arms wrap around your waist before pulling you into his arms, your legs wrapping around his torso. You make out as he carries you to the couch and sits with you on his lap.

After a couple hours or so, you both ended up in his bedroom, blankets all over the bed as you grind your hips on his face. His hands grip your thighs as you rest your arms on the head board, head back as you groan out. He smacks your ass as he laps up your juices, sucking your clit before flicking it with his tongue. Orgasm after orgasm, you both sloppily give yourselves to one another.

When you woke up the next day, your phone continuously buzzed as a call interrupted your sleep. You groaned as you grabbed the phone and eyed the screen. You sigh once you see your ex’s name. Answering the phone you picked yourself up and used one of the blankets on the floor as a cover up. You glanced at the sleeping purple haired man and walked into his bathroom, closing the door behind you.

The conversation went with your ex manipulating the situation and you falling for it once more, a never ending cycle that you knew could end if you stopped fooling yourself. Hanging up and opening the bathroom door, you weren’t expecting to see Rin sitting up on the bed, half-naked as his body faces you with his feet planted to the ground. You greet him as you put your clothes on.

“Leaving to go back to your toxic ex?” One of your eyebrows raised at him.

“That’s none of your business. Can I please get a ride to my apartment?” He nods as he watches you walk out.

A week has passed and you and your ex are once again back on bad terms. You were on your way to his place to pick your stuff up so it wouldn’t get mixed up with the other women’s items considering he allows them to stay over. When you opened the door, your eyebrows furrowed at the dark living room. He just texted you so you didn’t understand why he wouldn’t be waiting in the living space like he always does.

You gasp when you reach his bedroom doorway, his corpse lying on the floor with blood oozing from a bullet hole in his head, lifeless eyes wide open. You look at the culprit who sits on the bed facing away from you.

“What the fuck?” You breathe out, uncomfortable and terrified from the display. You could recognize the mullet from anywhere. He stands up from the bed with the gun still in hand.

“Let’s go.” He says, expecting you to follow as he walks past you. Because of the gun in his hand, you really didn’t have a choice but to follow if you didn’t want to end up like your ex.

Sanzu: You knew that even if you’re unhappy with your marriage, you probably shouldn’t have cheated. Honestly, it wasn’t anything planned but you really needed the drugs you had bought from the dealer you were recommended. Who knew that the one night stand would turn into an affair. Though there didn’t seem to be any emotional connection on your part nor did it seem like his, you couldn’t stop contacting him and yearning for the pink haired man in more ways than you should for a drug dealer.

You thought what you experienced was normal until you realized you might’ve caught feelings for your dealer. Unfortunately, when you confessed, you were answered with a blank expression as you both smoked weed in his car. You realized how stupid you were to have confessed to someone when you were married so you stopped buying from him. It wasn’t until he showed up at your house and pulled you into a passionate kiss. You continued to make out until you were on the sofa, riding his cock once more as you moaned out his name.

His hands gripping your hips as he thrusted into you from below. One of his hands moved behind your head and pulled you to his shoulder as his other hand wrapped around your waist, aiming his cock deeper to keep hitting that spot that makes your thighs quake in his hold.

“Fuck.” He hissed as you rolled your hips harder, grunting as his grip tightened. “You sure you want this?”

“Uh huh.” You moan out as you nod, head falling back as the sound of your wet pussy squelches around his thick girth. When the sound of the front door clicks open, before you could turn your head around, Sanzu pulls his gun out from the pants that sat beside him and aims it for the intruder.

“No!” You gasp just as the shot rings out. A thud follows as you turn fully to eye your now dead husband.

“Oh my…!” Your head is forced to face Sanzu, the hand free of the gun holding the back of your head as the one holding the weapon wraps around your waist, his thrusts starting again as he purposefully aims deep into your pussy. You moan out as tears fall, the pleasure contrasting with the fear and guilt in your heart. He pulls your forehead against his as he continues to fuck into you.

“This is mine.” He aims the barrel of the gun on your pubis, finger against the trigger. You stare wide eyed into his crazed blue orbs. “Only mine, got it?” You nod as he removes the gun and replaces the arm back around your waist.

He continues until you both reach your orgasms, riding them out against each other as you lean your head on his shoulder, questioning everything that brought you to this point.

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mandibugs · 2 years ago

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assorted school doodles I either liked or thought were funny

#tip of advice never look back in your photos you will reminisce about being invested into media you left after a while #I NEED TO CONTINUE WRITING DISCIPLES OF THE STARS IN A COMPREHENSIBLE MANNER GRAAAHHH #the two characters related to that are across from each other on the horizon line of that one image I think #I would say ask about them but I barely know what I’m doing- I will give a character list though because I can’t take this anymore </3 #most of them are mine excluding scrawl who belongs to a friend and. the few fandom characters #if you recognize a specific one I will CRY and sob #alfred’s art

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all-purpose-dish-soap · 7 months ago

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550 words / 25 / more ghost + gaz with free use medic reader

...

"Come here, medic."

"I told you, I'm fine."

"Ain't a request." Ghost takes you firmly by the back of the neck before you can flee. He squeezes tight enough to make it clear he's not asking.

You feel his and Gaz’s eyes on you--on the bleeding laceration sliced through the outer cartilage of your ear and on the bruise forming on your cheekbone. You got tangled up briefly with an enemy tango and almost became a hostage. Or a statistic. But you're fine now.

"You're making a big deal over nothing,” you tell them.

Ghost pulls you forward and angles your face this way and that, trying to get a better look at you.

Gaz crosses his arms and stares you down. "Fine is when you burn yourself on a shell casing. You're not fine." He's barely holding back the edge in his voice. He can't pull rank on you--none of them can, technically--and he's supposed to be polite and respectful. But seeing that happen to you, and the adrenaline running through him, is making him thoughtless.

"He only grabbed me. Didn't hurt me."

Ghost hisses at you, his voice just as rough as the squeeze he has on the back of your neck. "What happened isn't important. What's important is that he thought he could touch you." His grip tightens. "You're in our squad. You're under our watch. No one messes with you."

Your gut twists. That's not fair--acting protective. It's part of their job to keep you safe, but they don't have to talk like this. You glance at Gaz for help, but the look on his face tells you he doesn’t disagree with Ghost. You swallow the protests on the tip of your tongue and close your eyes, silently letting them examine you.

Ghost finds another few nicks and fresh bruises. You’re a medic—you’re not as armored as they are because it’s a goddamn war crime to kill medical personnel. "Jesus,” he mutters. “Bastard snuck up on us.”

"Thank you," you say quietly.

"For what?" Ghost snaps back. As usual, he's not expecting gratitude from you. You're supposed to take the insults, the berating, the harshness. And the protection, because you belong to them. At least, that's how they see it.

Gaz speaks up. "No one treats you like that again, alright?"

"It's not like I asked him if he needed a hostage."

"Doesn't matter," Gaz retorts. "If someone puts a finger on you like that again--"

Soap ducks back into the room, his rifle’s muzzle on his shoulder.

"Take care of it?" Ghost asks.

"Aye," Soap says. "Bastard won't be layin' his hands on anyone anymore. Not enough fingers left, for starters." He turns to you with a look of sympathy, but you recognize the wild edge of adrenaline still present. "You alright, hen?"

"I'm fine." You use the opportunity to worm yourself out of Ghost's grasp. "We going?"

"Affirmative," Gaz says. “We should move.”

Ghost turns away, forcing his attention back on the mission even though he carries himself with cold anger. Soap looks you up and down once more, his eyes lingering on your cheekbone a little longer this time. He seems about to say something, but thinks better of it. His blue eyes soften just a bit before he turns to follow Gaz and Ghost.

...

more Gaz / more Ghost / more multi-141 and poly 141 / masterlist tag

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moonstruckme · 11 days ago

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vampire!james is such a fun concept!

what about if reader was a newly turned vampire too and James lets her feed on him

like the scene with elena feeding on damon in TVD?

because blood sharing is intimate :P

Hi lovely! I don’t really remember what this was like in TVD because I last watched that show probably 10 years ago and I don’t think I finished it but hopefully this is along the lines of what you were thinking, thank you for requesting <3

cw: blood, feels mature at times but no smut (vampires are just hot idk)

vampire!James x fledgling!reader ♡ 1k words

James hates seeing you like this. He remembers what it feels like—being aware for the first time of every nerve ending in your body, your mind whirring at a thousand miles a minute, everything worse and louder and so much more than it had felt when you were human.

He’d warned you the transition would be like this, but you’d wanted it anyway. You keep trying to act like you’re alright even now, trembling from head to toe in the corner of the bed, eyes darting towards every sound and movement like your body thinks you’re under attack. The three bags of blood you’d gotten from the butcher lie empty on the floor. Normally James only needs one every few days, but this is one thing he’d forgotten about the transition, he supposes. The hunger is intense. He won’t be able to get you more for at least a few hours.

“Sweetheart,” James says softly. You still flinch as though he’s shouted. “You should try to go to sleep. It’ll help with the cravings.”

“I don’t think I can.” Your lisp is sort of cute. You haven’t been able to retract your fangs yet, have pricked your own lip more than once. “I can hear so many hearts. They’re loud.”

James nods. He’s learned to tune them out, like the hum of electricity or the rush of wind outside, but he knows what you mean. If he focuses, he can listen to the beating heart of the bird nesting in the tree by your window, the neighbor’s cat, the woman who lives at the end of your street. Sometimes they seem synchronized together, the unceasing, steady beat of life in the world. It gets louder when he’s starving.

“The butcher won’t be open until morning,” he tells you, though you know already. You nod, wrapping your arms around your legs. “But I can try to help, if you want. You could try feeding from me.”

It’s an idea James has been toying with since you said you wanted to turn. He doesn’t think you could survive off each other forever—he’s not sure if he still makes new blood, if his body works that way anymore—but he doesn’t have need for his blood the way a human does. Maybe he could sate you for a bit.

You give him a look of wary surprise, but James knows how you feel well enough to recognize the hope behind it. Any chance of feeding will sound good to you right now.

“Can we do that?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “But I don’t think it’ll hurt to try. Might taste a bit stale, though.”

It’s a lame joke, and you don’t laugh. Your trembling worsens, your restraint barely holding out against your cravings. Your voice is small. “I don’t know if I can be gentle. I feel…weird.”

James offers you a smile. “I know, honey. It’s okay. Can I touch you?”

You nod. James is careful about it, not wanting to overstimulate your sensitive nerves. He takes your hands in his, slowly guiding you onto his lap.

“You’re alright,” he promises. “Let me help.”

Your brows crease, and your lip starts bleeding again when you prick it with your fang. James gently thumbs the droplet away. “I don’t want to hurt you,” you whisper, scared.

“I’ll be fine.” He looks you in the eyes, swiping his thumbs over your cheeks calmingly. “You did it for me, right? That wasn’t so bad. Just…” James palms the back of your head, bringing it to the crook of his neck like an embrace. “Take what you need.”

James doesn’t have a heartbeat for you to hear, but that doesn’t matter; once you’re close you can’t restrain yourself anymore. You bite into his neck eagerly.

It feels like you described. Part of James worried that you were stretching the truth, trying to make him feel better, but the places where your mouth connects to his skin are suddenly the center of James’ universe. He can feel his blood rushing to meet you, to sate you, fill you up and be everything you need. Your low moan vibrates against his skin, and James laughs, dizzy and drunk on you.

One of your hands fists in his hair, pulling his head further to the side. He bears his neck to you readily. He hopes you glut yourself on him, stay here with him, keep your mouth suctioned to his skin until you both die whatever deaths immortals can.

He feels a bead of wet roll down his chest. You make a soft, thoughtless sound in the back of your throat, leaving his neck to chase it. Your tongue licks a stripe up James’ left pectoral.

He blinks slowly as you wipe your mouth, breathing hard. It feels like waking up from a dream. You have blood smeared around your mouth and nearly dripping from your chin. You look embarrassed as you catch it with your fingers and lick them clean.

“Sorry,” you say.

“It’s okay.” James smiles at you. He still feels slightly doped up, but it’s also sweet to see you like this, pupils still blown from the taste of him and shy about it at the same time. “You were right, that was nice.”

One side of your mouth tilts up tentatively. “I didn’t hurt you? You were so controlled when you fed from me.”

“That’s not your fault, honey, you can’t be controlled this early on.” James kisses you, pleased to find your fangs are starting to retract. “It’s not possible. But no, it didn’t hurt.”

Your smile blooms with relief. “You didn’t taste stale,” you reassure him. “You sort of tasted like yourself, if that makes sense.”

He nods. You’d tasted like yourself, too, all sticky sweet and addicting.

You let your breath out in a whoosh, sagging in his hold. “I’m…god, how do you manage to walk home after this? I’m so tired.”

“It gets easier with time,” James reassures you. He pets the back of your head, turning you both around so his back rests against the headboard of your bed. “You can sleep, though. We’ll clean you up tomorrow.”

There are no arguments from you. You’re fading fast, head falling naturally back into the curve of his neck.

“Sorry,” you mumble, “I wasn’t as nice about it as you were with me.”

“Sure you were, sweetheart. You’re always nice, I don’t think you can help it.”

“Yeah, well.” You turn your head slightly to mush a kiss over the puncture marks you’ve left him. “Thanks.”

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not-neverland06 · 1 month ago

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wicked influence

Poly!Ghostface x fem!reader

a/n: I’ve wanted to write for Scream for forever and have never gotten around to it. Well, it’s slasher season baby! I finally have my reason. (When I tell you that this movie was my sexual awakening as a child, I mean it. That’s not necessarily good, but it’s true. )

Summary: Visiting a Halloween carnival with your two best friends doesn’t seem that bad until you reach the haunted house. You’ve never been able to explain your fear of demons to anyone before, you have no idea where it comes from. But you do know, going into a hell themed house with teenagers screaming shitty Latin at you is one of your worst nightmares. You think everything’s okay until, suddenly, your nights are filled with visits from a strange shadowy entity and you don’t recognize the look in Stu’s eyes anymore. (Part of my Halloween Palooza)

“Hey! Demons are a perfectly rational thing to be afraid of.”

Billy scoffs and rolls his eyes, nudging you further toward the haunted house. “Alright, alright, would you calm down and just move it.” You stare into the gaping jaw of the devil that serves as the entrance to the house. You know this is all just a way for people to make a quick buck.

There’s not going to be anything in there except teenage actors and shitty SFX makeup. But that doesn’t make the looming doorway any less menacing. It doesn’t make your heart stop racing or your breathing any easier.

Billy frowns as some people shove past you all, tired of waiting for you to move inside. They cut the line and you can’t help but be grateful. Your nails dig into your palms until you feel the warmth of blood and have to swallow down bile.

Stu and Billy both lean towards you, varying looks of confusion on their faces. “Holy shit,” a grin breaks out on Stu’s face and he smiles widely at you. “You’re terrified, aren’t you?” He pokes you like you might be a statue, unmoving and solemn.

You stumble back and are effectively broken out of your terrified stupor. You swat at Stu’s wandering hands and glare at him. “Shut the fuck up,” you snap. But in your anxious state, it all comes out as one jumbled mess.

Billy lets out a disappointed sigh and gives you a funny look. “Alright, let’s just go. You’re not going in and it’s stupid to just stand out here all night.” Stu opens his mouth to argue but Billy shoots him a sharp look. You hate how sensitive they think you are. You can handle one stupid fucking haunted house. You’re not completely useless.

Still, you practically gulp as the Devil’s eyes bore into yours. You feel like your soul is being sucked out through your feet, leaving you startlingly cold. “I,” you clear your throat, waiting until it feels strong enough to speak. “I can do this,” you grit out, sounding like you’re trying to convince yourself more than them.

Stuf lets out a brief chuckle and Billy throws his elbow into his gut. Stu doubles over dramatically and you can’t help but laugh a little. Billy gives you a raised brow and you nod your head. “I just need a little nudge,” you mutter, glancing back at the house.

Stu grins and creeps behind you. “I got you babes,” he tells you in a ridiculous voice. You barely have a second to process what’s happening before he’s lifting you up and practically tossing you inside. Immediately, there’s a fake chainsaw in your face and a screaming Bubba Sawyer. You stumble back with a gasp, falling into Stu’s open arms.

“How’s that for a nudge?” Billy mutters as he brushes past you. You grab onto the back of his shirt and follow behind him. He glances over his shoulder at you with a knowing smirk and continues forward. None of the scares get him, but they get you.

The actors catch onto that. They also catch onto how fake and dramatic Stu is. Half of them target you for a good scream and the other half avoid you because of how obnoxious he’s being. You can already tell how bored BIlly is. There’s not enough gore in here for him.

He needs more blood splatter and fresh corpses, while you’re pleasantly surprised by the contents of the house. You’d really been dreading the demonic themes, but it seems like that’s not a huge factor. So far it’s just a few overzealous teens and some spiders on a string.

Sure, it’s still scaring the bejeezus out of you. But there’s a difference between a quick scream and a deeply rooted phobia.

You don’t know when this supernatural fear of yours began. Maybe your parents let you traumatize yourself with the crucifix scene in The Exorcist too young. But you know it’s been with you nearly your entire life.

You think you’re safe, that you can just relax and let yourself have fun, then you reach the final door. The lights are flickering so hard you think you might have a seizure, but you can see enough to know what’s before you. A red, rotted door, with three upside-down nines barely hanging onto it.

“Oh god,” you whisper and you think the boys can’t hear you. But then you feel Stu’s hands suddenly clamping around your neck and you leap into Billy with a shrill scream. Billy flinches away from the noise, turning to glare at you.

Stu doubles over, laughing his ass off at your expense and grinning wildly at you. “Jesus, we’re not even in there yet. What is wrong with you?” He says it like a joke but you can hear the truth of it lingering. It stings, the slight cruelty in his tone.

There’s nothing wrong with being afraid of something. Fear is healthy. The absence of fear is idiocy. You shove past Billy and turn to Stu with a mean glare. “I’m going to go in here and when I get out, I’m fucking leaving you.”

You shove the door open and take a step inside. You put on a brave face for about five seconds before you turn to see if they’ll follow you. You see just a glimpse of them before the door creaks closed. Billy is leaning against the wall, watching you with a half-amused expression. But Stu looks odd.

That doesn’t even seem like the right word. His face is completely devoid of any emotion. He looks expressionless and you’ve never seen Stu like that before. Whether it’s for good reason or not, he’s always making a face. Right now, you don’t even recognize him. Were it not for the outfit he was wearing you would think someone else had snuck up behind Billy.

The door is closed before you can call out to him and you find yourself plunged in complete darkness. There’s no noise for a long few moments. You can’t tell which way is the door and which is the exit.

At first, you worry you went in the wrong direction and entered an empty part of the house. A sudden cackle breaks through the air, and you leap forward, stumbling into the wall. You can already feel your heart beginning to race. Even though you can hear the static of a speaker and you know, deep down, that it's fake, you’re frozen in fear.

There’s a brief flash of light, just enough for you to see torn wallpaper and upside-down crosses. And something standing in the corner. “All alone?” A voice rasps and you whimper, pressing yourself up against the wall. You can’t tell if your eyes are open or closed, it’s too dark to know. You hope they’re closed. Whatever’s about to happen is going to traumatize you, you just know it.

A door creaks behind you just as the lights begin flickering on and off. Through brief flashes of illumination, you see something running towards you. They’re screaming Latin at you, water hits your face and you begin screaming uncontrollably. Footsteps pound towards you, egging on the racing beat of your heart.

A jarring grip lands on your shoulder and you swing out wildly. Your fist connects with something hard and you hiss in pain. There’s a brief pause where the only thing you can hear is your panting.

“Ow!” Someone snaps, an irritated raspy voice. The lights flick on and you squint against the sudden glare, blinking rapidly to try and lessen the burn on your eyes.

Billy and Stu stand on either side of you, astonished looks on both of their faces. A teenage boy in a shitty priest costume and red face paint stands before you. He’s rubbing his eye and cussing at you. “You fucking punched me!”

“You ran at me!” You yell back immediately, glaring at the little asshole. “I don’t think you’re supposed to touch me.”

He glares at you through one eye and points to Stu and Billy. “I didn’t!” He shouts and you flinch back, grimacing. “Your fucking friend did.” You clench your eyes shut, taking in a deep breath. Both you and Billy turn slowly towards Stu. His face is as red as the kid’s as he struggles to contain his laughter.

“Unbelievable!” You snap at him, slapping his shoulder roughly. He jolts, narrowing his eyes down at you.

“Hey!” He protests, “I was joking around. You’re the one that punched him.” He points the blame to you and you can’t argue. You did, technically, punch him. But it’s Stu’s fault. If he hadn’t snuck up on you, you would have just kept on screaming. You never would have touched the kid.

In awkward silence, you walk the boy out of the haunted house and buy him a cold drink to press against his steadily swelling eye. You can see purple shining through the fading paint and grimace. He throws himself down on a wooden picnic table and sighs forlornly.

“Thanks a lot, lady,” he mutters bitterly. Stu’s lips twitch as he watches the kid tug at his costume. You glare up at him and shove him away. He stumbles behind the table shooting you a sharp glare. You’re taken aback by the look.

It’s not like you’ve never gotten a little pushy with him before. His love language was manhandling. But the look on his face is unrecognizable. You’d thought you’d imagined it earlier, how off he had seemed. But it’s not fake now. You’re looking it clearly in the eye and you can’t deny the truth of it.

“I’m gonna sue,” the kid grumbles and you’re snapped out of your stare-off. You try and shake off the chilling feeling of unfamiliarity but it’s nearly impossible. You’re still wound up from the haunted house, you’re sure you’re just imagining things.

Billy shoves his shoulder and the kid falls back onto the table. “You’re not suing.”

He puffs his chest up and glares at Billy, “I could.”

Billy places his hand on the table, leaning in on the kid’s space until he’s flinching back. You avert your eyes, uncomfortable with the sudden display of dominance. Yet, you don’t stop him from bullying the kid out of a lawsuit. “You won’t,” Billy tells him, a clear threat.

The kid gives a shaky nod of his head, but Billy still doesn’t let up. There’s a slight curl of malice to his lips, you glance over to Stu for support. His attention is rapt upon Billy, something like hunger in his eyes. You feel like you’re watching two lions corner a gazelle, you can practically see the boy’s hands trembling from fear.

“Alright,” you clear your throat and tug Billy back by the shirt. He resists you at first and you know he only backs off because he wants to. It’s not for you. You look at the boy and give him a weak smile, “I really am sorry,” you can hear Stu laughing behind him and roll your eyes. The kid takes the drink off his eye and glares at you.

“Yeah, whatever lady. Why don’t you take a valium or something and chill the hell out?” He gets off the bench and brushes past you, shaking his head. You glance down at your fist and hiss at the pain shooting along your fingers. The skin of your knuckles is split and aching from hitting him.

Billy huffs out a laugh and takes your hand in his. “Really got him, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t mean to,” you argue petulantly.

Stu finally collects himself and rejoins you both, throwing his gangly body on the wooden picnic table. “Why don’t you tell his face that?” He practically snorts, looking down at your hand and then laughing all over again. It’s really not that funny. Even Billy looks confused by his boisterous nature.

He’s a dick, but this is a lot. You and Billy exchange a confused glance before looking back at Stu. But he’s silent now, already staring back at you both. Again, chills go up and down your arms at the empty look in his eyes. His lips are smiling, but his eyes are devoid of anything.

“Maybe we should just go home.” You suggest, trying to keep the suspicion out of your tone. “Carnival’s a bust,” Billy exchanges one last look with you before nodding.

“We still doing movies at Stu’s?” You desperately want to say no. Right now, all you want is to get as far away from him as possible. Earlier, with them and the kid, that’s normal. They’ve always had a bit of a mean streak when it comes to people weaker than them.

The way his eyes are boring into you right now is anything but normal. You’ve never felt quite so uncomfortable near him, but you can’t ignore the feeling. Every primal instinct of survival is screaming at you to run, but you can’t. You can’t say no. All you do is nod, tongue glued to the roof of your mouth. Stu’s eyes brighten slightly at your words, but it’s still nothing compared to how it should be.

You get ahead of Billy, not wanting to walk next to Stu. All you need is a good night’s sleep and you’ll be over this whole thing. Still, you can’t shake the feeling of too many eyes lingering on you as you make the trek to the car. The wet straw beneath your feet swallows the sounds of your steps and you try not to be discomforted by the quiet. It’s a carnival, where did all the people go?

The black-and-white static of the TV is the only thing to illuminate the room. It shines upon your face, makes it so you can only see in that square of light. You assume Billy is on the ground, passed out. And Stu is probably curled up in the overstuffed armchair.

Yet, you can’t look. As much as you try to crane your neck, try and find some comfort in their presence, you can’t move. Your body is pinned down by a weight you can’t see, only feel. This isn’t sleep paralysis. It’s like being held down by someone stronger and bigger than you.

You have no control over your body. You have no control over anything. Your breathing kicks up, coming in short panicked bursts. Your eyes roll around wildly, trying to find something, anything, to focus on.

You find yourself depressingly devoid of any distractions. Until a shadow creeps along the ceiling. At first, you think it’s just your eyes playing tricks on you. Like when you stare at one spot in the dark for too long and start to see impossible shapes.

But this is different. No matter how many times you blink or look away, it keeps moving. You whimper as it crawls over you. It dangles from the ceiling. You see nothing, only feel its eyes on you. There is no clear shape lurking within it, just malevolent malice.

It drops down behind the arm of the couch and you open your mouth to scream, hoping to wake one of the boys. Nothing comes out but a strangled gasp of air. You struggle for noise but the more you try, the harder you find it to bring air in.

Your eyes swim as you go lightheaded. You almost miss the tendrils creeping over the fabric of the couch. You almost don’t see it covering your feet. You wish you had missed it. You wish you just closed your eyes and never opened them again. But it’s like something is keeping those pried open too.

You can’t feel your legs. That’s the weight. It’s not someone holding you down. Your body is completely limp. It’s as though your bones were replaced with metal, you’re sinking so far into the cushions they’re rising around you. Even your fingers are too heavy to twitch.

You begin to feel it in your head, a sudden sinking feeling as it tips further and further back. Soon, you can only watch the shadow through your peripheral. Cold terror washes over you and fills your veins with something ill.

It covers your legs like a veil, slithering on them. Your thighs shoot apart and the blanket goes flying across the room. You can only let out a choked whimper as it dives between your parted limbs.

You shoot up with a gasp, sunlight peers through Stu’s living room windows, filling the room with much-needed warmth. You glance down, fisting the blanket and tugging it up to your chest in relief. Your heart is still racing and there’s sweat caked along your neck. But you can move your body freely again. It must have just been an awful nightmare.

You glance to the side and nearly scream. Stu lounges in the armchair, Billy’s still asleep on the ground. Stu stares right at you, empty eyes, wide smile. “Good dream?” he inquires, but the tone of his voice tells you he already knows the answer.

You swallow, fighting the sandpaper feeling of your throat and shaking your head. “No,” you croak, afraid to speak much louder than a whisper.

His smile widens and you feel your head feeling heavy again. “I love a good nightmare,” he admits, like it’s an awful secret. He leans back in the chair and turns towards the TV, mindlessly flicking through the channels.

With his gaze off you, you glance down and pull the waistband of your shorts down. You swallow down your tears and bile. Your underwear, like you feared, is gone. You glance towards Stu and narrow your eyes at the back of his head. You have an idea who took them.

Your parents are out of town for the week. Normally that means Billy and Stu infesting your home like pests. They’re being oddly evasive when you call, though. Not that you’re complaining. You haven’t been interested in being around Stu since the carnival.

He makes you feel unsafe. As much of a dick as he could be, never, have you ever feared him before. But you do now. You’re terrified of him. Even thinking about him makes you want to get up and check your closets for unwanted intruders.

However, as much as his absence is a relief, it brings with it its own problems. Nothing with Stu can ever be easy, can it?

You keep having the same nightmare. Except each night it gets closer and closer. You feel more of it than you ever want to. They’re turning into uncomfortably sexual dreams. You wake up wet and without any underwear. You can’t blame Stu for that when he’s not even in your house, though. Which leaves you fucking petrified when you wake up.

Because you know, deep down, you know someone wasn’t in your house. Something was, though. A heavy presence lingers over you during the day and makes you terrified to walk around the open spaces of your home. You’d lock yourself in your room all week if you could, but even that doesn’t feel safe.

The door slams behind you and you jolt forward with a scream. You stare at your backdoor with a horrified expression, glaring at it like it might start talking and reveal its secrets. Your house is old, there’s nothing odd about doors occasionally closing on your own.

Except, that hadn’t been open. You’ve kept it firmly locked all week, terrified of a possible home invasion. You need to stop watching scary movies on your own.

You pull your knees into your chest, staring at your door until you’re satisfied it’s not going to slam shut again. Slowly, you turn back towards your TV and keep watching the only good sitcom you could find at this time of night.

The second you let yourself get comfortable, however, you hear your bedroom door upstairs slam shut, followed quickly by rushing footsteps. Your eyes widen in terror and you mute your TV, glaring up at the ceiling and hoping you just imagined it.

Footsteps behind you, running across the linoleum. You whip around, nearly shrieking when you spot something black darting into your pantry closet. You scramble for the phone beside you. You slam 911 into the keypad and press it against your ear, keeping your eyes riveted on the pantry closet.

There’s a steady beep on the other end. The line’s dead. Someone cut your phone line. That’s okay. You can work with that. You can beat something real, but you’ve got no hope against something otherworldly.

You stand slowly, unmuting the TV so the laugh track will cover your movements better. You creep towards your linen closet, reaching for the bat your dad keeps in there for this very reason. He’s got different weapons placed all over the house and you blame him for some of your paranoia. But right now, you’re eternally grateful for the protection it’s providing you.

You slip into the kitchen, sliding quietly across the tiles on your socks. You position yourself behind the pantry door, your hand shaking as you reach for the handle. Just as you rip it open, the lights go out.

You scream wildly, waving the bat around with as much force as you can, hoping to just hit something solid. Glass crashes against the floor and you feel the bat connecting with something. The lights flip back on and your mother’s vase is shattered along the ground. There’s no sign of the intruder and you think you might throw up when you hear more footsteps upstairs, two sets this time.

But then someone darts through the living room, another flash of black before they’re gone. Three? How are you supposed to handle three?

Something titters behind you, bordering on a giggle, and you whip around, bat waving through the air recklessly. No one was there, no sign anyone was. And there’s no possible way for you to have missed them running past you. There’s nowhere to go or hide.

You think of the shadow you’ve seen in the closet and the lights flicker like they’re agreeing with you. The thing that’s been haunting your nightmares, it’s in the house with you. The lights flicker again and your stomach drops to the floor. Your heart is in your throat as you hear your voice chanted from upstairs.

It’s like staring at the Devil’s eyes at the circus again. You feel like there’s something being taken from you. You feel cold, empty, like you’re missing something you need. Something’s toying with you. Making you it’s twisted little plaything.

You can feel the tears clawing their way up your throat. The call of your voice gets louder and louder until it feels like it's being screamed straight into your ears. You want to run, want to fight, want to do anything but stand here and you can’t.

You can’t move. It’s just like your dreams. Your bones are metal and you are stuck. There’s a rough shove to your back, though you don’t feel physical hands on you. And then someone’s moving you, your legs are puppeteered as you’re directed up the stairs.

You stub your toes on every step, crawling up them like a child learning to use them for the first time. Every time you slow down or try and stop, you’re dragged forward again. Your bedroom door creaks open and warmth carves its way down your cheeks.

You stumble inside, the bat thudding to the floor as your hand goes limp around the handle. You want to call out to the entity, but your jaw is wired shut. You stand in the middle of your room, sobbing and terrified and completely alone.

Your closet door slowly creaks open and you brace yourself for the worst. Billy comes flying out, shouting nonsense at you as you scream until your throat feels bloody. Stu follows behind him, ripping off his stupid mask and giving you a wide-eyed look.

You crumple to the floor, covering your head and crying as you come down from the fear that you are being haunted. Stu kneels before you, hands gentle as they take your arms away from your head.

He looks like Stu now. He looks like the boy you grew up with. His eyes are full of worry as he pushes wet strands of hair off your cheeks. “Hey, hey, alright,” he tugs you into his chest and you throw your arms around him wildly. You cling tightly to him, taking in heaving breaths and trying to find some comfort from his touch.

“You fucking dicks,” you sob into his sweater. “I thought I was going to die.”

Billy scoffs as he stares awkwardly behind him. “Yeah,” he mutters bluntly, “I can tell.” He watches you cry for a little while longer before he gets irritated. “Hey, this was supposed to be fun. Would you lighten up?”

You suck in a deep breath, astonishment at what he just said temporarily stopping the tears of terror. You rip yourself away from Stu, ignoring the way his hands linger. “Excuse me?” You demand, glaring up at Billy.

He shrugs, “It was just a prank, chill out.”

You scoff, taking in a sharp breath and nodding your head. “Right, no, you’re right. It’s not like my friends used my biggest fucking fear against me!” You shout, shoving him backward. He stumbles into the corner of your desk and you glare at him and Stu.

“You’re horrible fucking friends, you know that.” You storm out of your room and pause at the top of the stairs. They linger in your doorway. Stu looks like a kicked dog and Billy looks like he’s about to blow the hell up.

“I don’t even know how you guys pulled all that shit off, but fuck you.” You give them both an astonished glare before shaking your head and going back down the stairs. “I hate you,” you scream, your voice shrill and full of uncontrollable rage.

Billy almost follows after you, probably to give you a shit apology and then let everything smooth over naturally. But he stops, foot hovering over the top of the stairs. He glances back at Stu and frowns, “What the hell did you do?” Stu gives him a confused look and Billy glares. “She wasn’t supposed to be terrified for her life, fuckwad. What the hell did you do to her?”

Stu shrugs and gives him a too-wide grin and for the first time, Billy finds himself disturbed by his friend. “Magician’s secret man, cannot, will not tell.” He zips his mouth shut and tosses the key, winking at Billy. Billy gives him a disgusted scoff and follows after you. They can hear you ranting in the kitchen, slamming your drawers shut, and shouting vile insults at them.

Stu watches Billy go down the stairs, his smile slowly fading from his face. Something dark passes over Stu’s face, something wicked, something unnatural. Perhaps it was all just a trick.

Or maybe that kid’s Latin wasn’t so fake after all.

#Billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #poly!ghostface x reader #Billy loomis #stu macher #scream x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x reader #slashers x you #slasher x you #ghostface x reader #ghostface x you #Ghostface #Belle’s Halloween Palooza 2024

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strawberryblue-blog · 1 month ago

Text

The way I look at you

—Jude Bellingham.

summary: Being Jude's Spanish teacher and having a secret relationship with him makes you feel insecure after a situation.

warnings: yes. +18. friends to lovers, smut, explicit content, unprotected sex, p in v, discomfort, angst, etc.

words count: +2.9k

The chill of the night hit your body as you stepped out onto the balcony of the hotel dining room as you felt suffocated by so many people around you. You sighed as the nerves prickled in your belly and you pushed the ideas out of your head. It was the end of the year party that the Real Madrid team gave for their players and so on, it consisted of a thank you and toast with the delivery of some awards to the players and that. It was your first time here and it was also the first time in your life that you felt so insignificant.

The people in there were nothing like you, well yes there were some worthwhile ones but most of them were rich and important people compared to you. With high ranks in their positions, famous, exemplary and recognized and of course, the players of the team with their families.

Being Jude Bellingham's Spanish teacher and agreeing to come here as his "casual date" had been a disaster. Especially since he had been introducing you to everyone as his "friend", only his good friend. You don't even know why you had agreed to come tonight in the first place, it was obvious that you and Jude were not in a serious relationship and you were just friends. You felt disappointed and confused.

"Y/n?" he asked peeking out the door as he saw you with your back turned.

You turn your body to see Jude walk out and close the door as behind the doors people chatted, laughed and toasted.

"What are you doing here?" he insisted at your half smile. "Here" he took off his jacket and rested it on your shoulders.

"Thank you" you murmured slowly with kindness.

"Everything okay?" his hand slyly caressed your waist. You nodded barely smiling slightly at him.

"I just needed air" you tilted your head and hugged your body.

His gaze quickly darts inward and you assume he's checking to make sure no one is watching and when he sees no one is paying attention, he moves towards you and kisses your forehead softly as he hugs your shoulders.

Your belly flutters as you feel his warmth on you but the urge to cry threatens. You hate not being able to hold his hand in public, hug him or kiss him. You hate having to say that you're friends, that you're just his Spanish teacher and that you have nothing more than a good, professional relationship.

You don't want to worry him but the urge to go home doesn't leave you alone. You know that if you leave now he will want to come with you and you don't want to leave him without telling him either but you don't feel part of this place anymore.

"I think I'll go home" you mutter somewhat exhausted.

Jude looks at you, pulling away a little. He nods, patting your arms.

"Okay, let's go" he says taking your hand to guide you. But you stop him before he can move forward.

You don't want him to leave because of you. It's barely past midnight and you feel a little guilty that he's leaving so early, even though he doesn't really like parties, this is his chance to get to know his classmates better.

"You don't have to come, I can take a cab" you tell him kindly.

Jude declines.

"I came with you, I'm going with you" he mutters amused.

You nod with nothing else to do. You know it's not easy to convince Jude and he won't let you go home alone. You accompany him to greet his classmates and elders, staying by his side while they finish talking.

"It's been a pleasure, sweetheart" says Maca, Lucas Vazquez's wife. The other girlfriends and wives greet you animatedly as you say goodbye to them.

When you both finish saying goodbye and greeting, you walk to the parking lot in complete silence. The ride home is silent, Jude even tries to ask you questions but you just answer with the necessary.

When you arrive home, Jude accompanies you to the door but this time you walk hand in hand, together and quietly. Your heart aches but you don't want to ask, you don't want to sound distant or ruin whatever it is you have. Though doubts begin to fill your head, tonight Jude has proven that you two have nothing serious and maybe it was only you who saw it differently. Maybe you thought you two could become something and you weren't.

As you pass the key in your door, Jude stands behind you and you turn to see him.

"See you tomorrow, Jude" you greet with a smile, taking off his jacket to give it back to him.

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" he asks teasingly with a chuckle.

You deny with a smile.

"Then let me in" he points out and you scurry to let him pass quickly apologizing for your distraction.

He was so beautiful. His gaze stays glued to yours and your heart expands in your chest. His expensive black suit is delicately pressed, the white shirt is marked on his body so strongly. How could he be so handsome and gentlemanly like that?

His fingers caress your once arms up your cool skin. His face comes close to yours and before he kisses you, you take his hand and walk inside the house. You can tell he's surprised and probably confused, you haven't let him touch you since you got back but you honestly don't know what you want. Or what's right.

You take off your shoes and Jude sheds his walk a little following you around the house as you arrange things.

"There's something wrong" he mutters when you stop in the kitchen. His hands rest on his waist and he looks at you curiously.

"What are you talking about?" you ask pretending to be oblivious.

You set the glass of water down on the sink after drinking and offer him something but he declines.

"You look weird" he says as you walk back to your room to change. "Like you're upset or angry" he insists behind you.

"Nothing like that, Jude" you deny walking towards the bathroom in your room.

You remove your makeup with a damp towel and wash your face, finally combing your hair. Jude snorts sitting on the end of the bed as he continues to watch your every move. When you return to the bed, Jude is still there, waiting for you. You walk over to him and position yourself between his legs, cupping his face. He wraps his hands around your hips and pulls you closer to him as you gently kiss his lips in a simple, warm touch.

His large hands slide down your back until they reach the zipper of your evening gown, his fingers grope the area and he begins to unfasten the garment. His lips have never left yours as his hands take care of pulling down your straps and the bluish colored piece that covered your body, disappears from his vision and is left lying adorning the floor.

You cannot refuse, you are bewitched under his control. Jude is delicate and careful with you that makes your heart wallow with love. You can't be angry with him, you can't reproach him for anything, you can't help but feel special when his hands touch you, his eyes see you or his lips are on yours.

Your hands cradle his face as they pull away from his kiss, Jude's chest is heaving and yours is heaving with happiness, his smile is marked when he sees you in front of him, naked and ready for him.

"Tell me what it is, please" he murmurs as his eyes look deep into yours.

"It's nothing, Jude, don't worry" you say again with a small smile and he denies.

His face moves to your chest and he leaves a chaste kiss between the hollow of your breasts, starting to move over one of them and down to your belly. His hands outline your waists gently as his lips continue to place small kisses on your skin, making you gasp and try to hide them.

"You don't have to lie, I know you, Y/n" he insists against your skin, making you bristle.

You sigh in surrender. He really does know you and he knows something is wrong, despite your lazy effort to hide it.

"I felt overwhelmed, that's all" you barely say and he looks back at you with his eyes waiting for you to keep talking.

You don't want to keep talking, somehow you're a little embarrassed to admit that maybe you were your ideas and what you two had was casual or he really saw you as a friend.

The look in his eyes was still confused and his expression on his face invited you to keep talking.

"Lying about us... it makes me feel insecure like we're really nothing and.... I can't stand it" you shut up right away noticing how you exploded.

It sounded like complaining and you didn't want to reproach him. And maybe you're asking for too much but you don't want to keep feeling this.

You're in love with him, from the first moment you two met. It was two years ago when Jude had just arrived in Madrid. You became his Spanish teacher after your friend got you the job through an acquaintance, you started giving him classes, teaching him the basics and everything he would need.

Jude was a good student, he was smart, quick and patient but most of all he was a good man. Attentive, caring and brilliant, how could you not fall in love with him? And yes, you understood that you had at first only a professional relationship, after a while you had become good friends but now it was different.

You started to understand each other, to share moments together, to go out, to stay at home after classes and things like that. You got used to each other and he was the first one to ask you on a date, a romantic date where he kissed you and you started dating.

You knew you couldn't make it official, Jude was very well liked by the fans and a romantic relationship was the last thing they expected from him, either for publicity or for his performance on the field. So you decided to keep it private. Or at least whatever you guys had, it only went from the door in. You were going slow and testing but you were still his teacher and you still had to do your job, so you used to see each other from time to time.

You had never talked about it but you were fine. You started seeing each other more often, you went out to eat, he stayed at your house, you kissed, you spent the nights together, you did the typical couple things without having a title and it didn't bother you. Until today.

Tonight you were hoping that he would be able to recognize what you had and introduce you to everyone as more than just his friend and teacher. That wasn't the case though and so you were somewhat disappointed. Not with him, not with you, but with the situation. And with yourself.

"But it's okay" you say again trying to downplay it.

You didn't want to aggravate him now with all this reproach It wasn't even his fault, it was his decision and maybe you expected something else.

"No, it's not" his hands help you sit on his lap. "I should have asked you what you wanted, I just assumed we were fine like this but clearly we're not" he says concerned.

"It's nothing, Jude" you deny with a smile. "It's just stupid stuff from me, it's not your fault" you pat his arm.

His eyes look up at you shining and you smile at him reassuringly. Jude shakes his head and takes your face.

"I don't want you to think that, you're important to me, you know that?" he questions and you nod in relief. "You're my girl" he mumbles something and of course.

You laugh caressing his skin as he smiles towards you.

"You think they don't know, Y/n?" he asks laughing flirtatiously with his amused expression. "No one takes a woman as beautiful as you to one of those dinners just because she's your friend, do you think?"

Now his hands run down your body again and down to your back to grab you and turn you over your weight. With a squeal, you remain underneath his muscular body and you smile as you watch him lick his lips.

"They know very well that friends don't look at each other like that..." his eyes roam over your face admiring it in detail.

"Not the way I look at you" he continues to whisper as his hand runs down your leg, past your thigh and belly but his eyes never fail to meet yours.

It is an extraordinary connection, the way he makes your world spin, the way your heart pounds as you listen to him, the way his gaze penetrates yours with such dedication, admiration and praise. The stars can be seen in the deep, dark sea of his eyes and you are sure they reflect yours as well. He is really seeing you, not just looking at you, he is observing you, analyzing you, studying you, contemplating you.

At this moment you feel bad for having doubted Jude at first, it's obvious you were just overreacting but you can't help it when he's by your side. He is a gorgeous, polite and confident man. You are in love with every part of him and you were afraid you were the only one in the relationship.

With every touch from Jude, your skin would crawl, your heart would race and your chest would burn with excitement. Jude was the only person who had ever made you feel this special, made you feel full of joy and freedom. He was the one person you wanted by your side, that you wanted to kiss and love.

"You are the most precious thing I have" he says coming closer to your face. A smile appears on your lips and you hold his face warmly.

"And you are mine, Jude" you whisper sincerely.

Without another word, his lips impacted with yours and this time, there was no gentleness in his kiss. It was solid, hard and wild. Like a desperate, needy, longing kiss. His body was perfectly positioned between your legs and his hands began to spread over your body, caressing every bare corner of your skin.

His clothes were a problem just now and quickly your hands found the buttons of the lucid white shirt and began to detach one by one as you continued to eat your mouth. Literally. It didn't take long for him to detach your bra and throw it somewhere in the room with his shirt. Your hands contoured every hard muscle of his back and chest, tracing lines on his skin, on his juicy and soft skin.

Your tongues battled together, caressing each other as your hands couldn't reach out to touch each other where they could, feeling your fingers burn across his skin. You don't know how long you spent kissing but you know it was enough to make you both hot, needy. Your crotch ached and your erect nipples begged to be licked, caressed by his tongue with every movement, you wanted Jude in every way possible.

The grown bulge rubbed against your lower belly as you tried to unbutton his dress pants but your fingers trembled with pleasure as his kisses drifted to your breasts, kissing them in greeting and then taking one with his mouth, kissing it. Your hands held his back as his gasps echoed on your sensitive skin, you wanted him to touch you. And Jude knew it, his strong hands spread your thighs beneath him and his fingers slipped into your crotch, moving closer to your center, where he began to knead over the fabric and at the same moment his mouth bit one of your nipples, making you squeal. Your back arched and the tips of your toes compressed as you cried out his name.

"Fuck, Jude" you moaned sobbing.

He did it again, this time stroking your wet lips, up and down, helping you to spill your own juices over your center. He caressed your clit with his fingertip, while his lips continued to maul your erect and pink nipples. Your fingers had become anchored in the sheets, crinkling them as you sought to hold back from something as the waves of pleasure lapped at your body. When he groped your hot spot, a moan escaped your lips and you bit your tongue silencing yourself as his fingers made room in your hole. Wet, hot, tight. Again you pressed him against you again, needing his touch as his fingers began to pump inside you, in a torturous, overwhelming thrust in and out.

You were so sensitive, that at any moment you would come and even though you needed it, you wanted to end up with his cock inside you. With your hand you stop him and Jude quickly understands, pulling away from you to sensually pull your panties down your legs. A smile appears on his lips as you are completely at his mercy, your legs spread wide, your wetness dripping and your heart leaping.

He stood up a little to remove the last of his clothes that were also left on him and positioned himself between your legs again. Your fingers dug into his back as his crotch brushed against yours, seeking some relief from so much need but you both knew you didn't need just that.

His palms covered your breasts, which fit perfectly into them and he squeezed them hard making you squeal, streams of pleasure hit your wetness and you could feel how much of a client you were down there.

You wanted to feel him inside.

With a single thrust, you climbed over his body, sitting on his hard belly. His muscles tensed and he watched you from below, you on his body, hot and ready to take him. He bit his lips as your hands caressed his bulge, gripping it and squeezing it a little. A choked gasp came from Jude's mouth as you continued to move your hand over his swollen crotch.

After helping him remove his underwear, you went back to sitting on his lap as he straightened up to sit with you. You cupped his delicate face, kissing his lips patiently and softly. His full lips were your undoing, you would never tire of kissing those luscious lips as delicious as Jude's.

His hands roamed up and down your back as you took his member and positioned it at your entrance, playing a little at your center with the warm wetness of your pussy. Slowly you began to lower yourself down onto your cock, sinking down as you both had in unison as you felt yourselves fill. Your walls tightened around it as you began to move slowly over it, up and down to, smooth and deep, taking all the time to feel it deep inside you.

"Too wet and tight, baby" he moaned as he went all the way inside you.

He grunted holding his breath as you moved slowly and consistently. This was heaven itself, the way you guys fit together perfectly. How his cock slid inside you rhythmically, how his fingers held your body and his eyes kept seeing you.

Your hands cradling his cheeks as your gazes were connected as if you needed each other, talked to each other, loved each other. It was so intimate and exciting. Your hips kept moving with the help of his hands that had dug into your skin, that there would probably be marks tomorrow but you didn't care. It was proof of his love.

You didn't want to stop seeing his black eyes, shining in front of yours but you needed to kiss him. Your lips take his and it's a soft, romantic touch. His hands continue to control your movements on his cock, as you move over him. Up and down, side to side, in circles and in reverse.

The atmosphere feels tense, sticky, hot. His sweaty body, his stifling moans, the dirty noise of his sex, it was perfect.

It was wild but still had the intense, delicate touch of their love, enjoying every drop of pleasure that coursed through their bodies. Their mouths devoured each other as his hands circled your breasts and played with your hard, needy nipples. Your hands buried in her back, trying to hold you as your movements became erratic, digging your nails deep into her skin.

"Yes, shit!" you screamed as the world faded away between you.

You wanted to scream, to get it all out of your chest, to tell him how much you loved him. You wanted to stay in this moment forever, just you and him. Clawing at his back, screaming his name desperately, his body beneath yours as his teeth dug into your shoulders and his fingers left red trails on your skin. You wanted to love Jude, private or public it didn't matter to you but he hated that word.

Friends. You weren't friends, he'd said so himself. Friends didn't look at each other that way. The way you looked at Jude, the way Jude looked at you. With love. With hope, with illusion, with fascination. As if you depended on each other, as if your hearts were tied together, as if he was your air to breathe, as if you were his reason for existing.

Everything about Jude enchanted you. You loved him. Like you had never loved anyone, like you had never wanted anyone. Because you were born to be together, you found each other, you met, you knew each other, you fell in love, you felt each other, you belonged.

"Look at me, baby" he whispered in your ear as you kept moving sensually over his body.

You were ecstatic in a dimension completely out of the ranges, feeling how your whole body joined Jude's, how your hearts beat in tandem, how your breaths got lost in each other's skins.

You could barely open your eyes, you could barely move but you couldn't stop. It was overwhelming, the desperation to feel more united than before, in body and soul, in being and consciousness.

"You are my whole life" he whispered in his perfect accent that melted you.

Your eyes smiled as your mouth couldn't shut up and your hips couldn't stop moving, hard and fast, his cock buried deep in your core, hitting exactly the right spot.

"I love you, princess" he whispered again as his hands held your face in front of yours.

"I love you, Jude" you said before receiving the surges of pleasure through your system.

And you exploded. He exploded. It was glorious. The way you both climaxed together as you told each other you loved each other, the look on his face as he spilled inside you, as you received him, tight and hot. How your hearts toasted from your breasts and wallowed in ecstasy.

The desperate gasps and your bodies trembling as you fell surrendered on his shoulder and Jude gently embraced you. Your skins glistening with sweat and your breaths heaving for air.

You never said that word to you before. Maybe you were too excited and had imagined those words but you are sure you had said them. It had come out loud and clear from your mouth. More than from your mouth, they came from deep inside you. You loved him and you didn't want to hide it anymore.

"Shall we make it official?" he asks as your bodies fall limp on the bed.

His arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you to his chest. The words get stuck in your mouth, is he really serious?

"You don't have to feel pressured, I was just overreacting..." you try to say kindly, feeling guilty about earlier.

"No, I want to" he says firmly. "I want them to know that you're mine, that we're together" he insists and your chest vibrates.

You bite your lip as you hide a gasp.

"Come on, it's just you and me" he begs again with his sparkling eyes and that enchanting smile. "Do you really want to do this?"

A smile tugs at your lips and you nod as you feel your belly roar. Butterflies begin to flutter and make you sigh at his gaze.

You move closer to him and when your lips are almost brushing against his, you smile.

"Of course I do, Jude" you reply before crashing your lips against yours again.

#football imagines #imagine #football one shot #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham fluff

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bunnyrafe · 2 months ago

Note

i need to smoke with stoner!rafe oh my god 😭😭😭 both of us high and horny that’s the dream

here’s the deal— i genuinely blacked out while writing this so apologies if it's all over the place. anyway, stoner!rafe is a bit of a fuckboy and also so mean sometimes… so basically just regular rafe but make him a burnout !!! toodles xoxo

content / warnings -> 18+, MDNI. stoner!rafe AU. f!reader, a touch of crybaby!reader, drug use, male masturbation, mentions of f. receiving oral / fingering, cum eating.

it always starts the same— rafe calls and practically begs you to come over no matter what you may be up to, and then he's rolling up a blunt within twenty minutes of you being at his place.

you'd be stupid to turn down a free smoke session, but you know what he's doing. you know his game, and you've been playing along with him for quite some time now. you wonder how many girls are on his roster. how many of them probably stay the night and go to sleep tucked in his arms and adorned in one of his hoodies just like you do...

"you're doin' that thing again," rafe grumbles before pulling a hit from the blunt, inhaling with a sharp sound and watching you pluck it from between his deft fingers.

your feet are resting in his lap while his large hand rubs up and down your legs, clearly savoring the feeling of your smooth skin against his palm. with each leisurely pass, his hand gets higher and higher up your plush thighs. his fingers could creep right into your shorts, and you wish he would just go for it because your cunt has been throbbing in your panties from the moment you saw him close the seam of the blunt with his tongue.

"doing what?" you ask rather dumbly as you come to your senses.

you barely recognize your own voice and you can’t help but wonder where the fuck rafe even managed to get weed this good.

"getting lost in your head—" he snorts, "is it the weed? can't keep up with me anymore?"

you roll your eyes, exhaling your last hit. seconds before your lips part to speak once again, “shut the fuck up.”

rafe grabs your face. the tips of his fingers dig into the pudge of your cheeks, almost making you whimper in pain but it's quickly numbed out thanks to the drugs in your system. his eyes flicker to your jutted lips, shaking your face that's in his grip— “you should watch that pretty mouth of yours…”

"or what?" you blubber out.

your famous last words.

you can barely remember how rafe managed to get you on your knees. your whole body is buzzing. from your lips to the soles of your feet, all while your knees ache as they press into the floor. you blink slow, watching rafe get his heavy cock out.

he squeezes his fist around his length and the tip nearly drools pre-cum all over his hoodie before he strokes himself slowly. the way your eyes follow the movement is nothing short of pathetic. along with the saliva that pools in your mouth— so eager to get another taste of him after so long.

“‘m not even sure if you deserve to have your throat fucked,” rafe huffs out. his voice has a rasp to it, the kind that sets off a fever in your already melting brain, “seems like more of a reward for nasty girls like you, hm?”

at that, you smush your face against his thigh, putting on your best pout. you don’t have to try very hard— “please, rafey…”

“nah— you’re gonna watch me get m’self off, and maybe if you’re good you’ll get somethin’ from me.”

you’re crushed. your eyes well up with tears, your tiny voice gets caught up in your throat, and you sniffle so loudly that rafe laughs down at you— he continues on, jerking himself off in the process. a groan crawls up his throat between his words, making your heart beat faster in both your chest and your cunt as he drawls on between puffy breaths. his heavy-lidded eyes trail down your trembling form, watching your thighs squeeze together, “bet that lil’ pussy’s so needy, too… coulda ate you out for hours if you jus’ watched your mouth.”

in the back of your mind you know he’ll take care of you later.

he’ll probably put on one of your favorite movies and finger you until you’re squealing and creaming in his lap as an apology for being so mean, but you can’t say that you’re hating it.

especially when he’s panting and whining about how he’s gonna cum a few moments later, right over your heated face. he’s so wound up just from watching you be needy for him, watching you cry and whine over not having his cock brutalizing your throat. and when he commands you to open your mouth so he can shoot his load on the soft, pink pad of your tongue you don’t hesitate for a single second, proving that you can be good for him…

“that’s a good fuckin’ girl,” he practically snarls the words out, milking every last drop out of his cock with a firm grip and sloppy strokes.

you mewl happily, reveling in both the praise and the taste of him.

yeah— you can’t be too upset.

#✉️ love letters #stoner!rafe #rafe cameron smut #rafe smut #outer banks smut #obx smut

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charlotte-zophie · 11 months ago

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Therapy conversation

Dear Fandom, dear Mr. Gaiman,

I hope this isn´t weird but i have something to confess.

Since I watched the second season of Good Omens, I've gone through so many phases that I barely recognize myself anymore.

My first reaction after episode 6 was shock, then I was disturbed because I didn't know that it was possible for a series to have such a strong influence on my psyche, I questioned myself and doubted my sanity. Then I was overcome by an incredible sadness and was really heartbroken. I felt like a pubescent teenager, in my mid-30s. I couldn't sleep properly for several days, had nightmares and my thoughts were with these two ineffable loving idiots the whole time.

And the worst thing about it was that for the first few days I was really ashamed to admit to myself and my husband that I was completely and hopelessly immersed in this world. I did nothing but watch videos, listen to sad songs, and read heartbreaking fanfictions for days. And of course I read the book again and watched the series over and over again. All in the hope that it will ease my heartache a little.

But as is often the case in these situations, after a few days in which no real change occurs, you have the thought that you will be lost in this feeling forever. But since I have 3 children that I need to look after, of course locking myself away for weeks with heartbreak wasn't an option, so I had to find an outlet for myself to channel my pain.

So I started painting a picture. By Aziraphale and Crowley. And stroke by stroke I let my feelings flow out of me and into the picture.

It took over a week until I had a motif in which I could see my thoughts and feelings expressed and then it took another week until I finished the picture. On an old canvas with paints that haven't been used for a long time, with many, many layers of old paint underneath.

But when the picture was finally finished, it really took a load off my mind. It was like I had broken a dam and was finally able to let it all out and convert it into creative energy.

But I think the most important thing was that I uploaded the picture to Tumblr and received such a response that I was incredibly touched and immediately motivated to paint more pictures.

Since that day, hardly a moment goes by when I am not holding a pen in my hand or not thinking about a new picture. I'm in one of the most creative phases in a very long time and I'm really enjoying it.

I am so grateful for the wonderful people here! Here I see that I'm not alone with my strange feelings that I still don't really know how to classify. Here I read thoughts that are so similar to mine, here I see works of art that melt my heart, here I feel understood!

And I am so grateful for the pain that showed me the way back to my creative energy!

Thank you Fandom!

Thank you Neil Gaiman!

I would have been lost without you!

Because I don't know my way around here very well, I didn't think about pinning the picture in question as a link when I created this post, but since many people have asked about it, I've pinned it here. Thank you all, love love love

#good omens #good ineffable omens #ineffable fandom #neil gaiman #i love you all #so grateful #ineffable idiots #ineffable fanfic #ineffable family #ineffable fanart

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jexnkookie · 4 months ago

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The Law of Attraction (Lawyer!Jung Kook x Reader) [Part 1]

Story Synopsis: Throughout his life, Jung Kook has only ever loved one girl. Despite her being out of his league and of an elite class that he wasn't born into, he fell hard, keeping his feelings a closely guarded secret. When they parted ways, and Jung Kook pursued his law career, he did so with the intent of moving on. But when she unexpectedly arrives back into his life, Jung Kook finds himself once again face to face with his own insecurities, and the girl of his dreams.

Story Rating: M (18+) [Language, sex, depression, alcoholism] Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Characters/Pairings: Lawyer! Jung Kook x Reader (feat. Jimin x Reader)

Chapter Word Count: 2.6k

Authors Note: I have this listed as "part one", because I may want to continue it in the future! This is just an idea that I've had floating around in my head, and I really haven't been inspired to write more of my other story lately, so why not put this out? If you'd like more of this story, please let me know and I can possibly continue it, if it's something y'all are interested in!

(It got another part)

Next Chapter

Series Masterlist

New York City is always bustling on a Monday morning. Crowds of people piling onto the sprawling connection of subway, buses and sidewalks on their way for another week of hard work. Jung Kook was among them, wearing a discounted, freshly pressed suit, and a fresh cup of Starbucks coffee in his hand. AirPods in his ear, he let the newest pop playlist cover up the sound of the crowded street on his way to his new office. There was a little, barely noticeable pep in his step, hinting at his excitement for his first day.

His office building was rather large, even by his own metrics. Coming from Seoul, Jung Kook was no stranger to towering buildings, but this fresh law office had something glistening about its structure. As he entered through the front rotating tour, scanning the pass in his lanyard to be let in, any seasoned attorney would quickly recognize the wide-eyed young man as an ambitious rookie.

“Jung Kook!” A voice called out from across the lobby. Jung Kook stopped walking and looked up, scanning the room to see Mr. Kim Namjoon, one of the best defense attorneys he’s ever had the pleasure of meeting, greeting him with a dimpled smile.

“Good morning, Mr. Kim!” Jung Kook responded, quickly making his way over to greet him.

“Aish, Jung Kook. Call me Namjoon.” He smiled shyly. “We’ll be working together as partners, I won’t be just a mentor to you anymore. I want you to feel comfortable around me.”

“Right, of course.” Jung Kook grinned. “Thank you for bringing me here, I’m really excited.”

“That’s great to hear.” Namjoon’s voice was warm and sincere. “I wasn’t sure how’d willing you’d be to leave Korea, but I’m glad you’re here.”

“Yeah, it um…” Jung Kook pauses, thinking to himself for a moment for the right words to say. “It was a move that was for the best.”

Namjoon kept a smile on his face, but furrowed his brows just briefly as he read into the younger man’s explanation. Not wanting to press too much, he motioned Jung Kook to follow him to the elevator. They walked together with comfortable conversation, questions about Jung Kook’s move to the city and his commute. As the elevator took them high above the rest of the city, Jung Kook’s finger absentmindedly tapped on the coffee cup he held, jitters taking over.

“We had a case come in that I think you’ll be perfect to help me with.” Namjoon said, leading Jung Kook to his new office overlooking the city. There was an unorganized set of case files already on the desk. “You can put your stuff here, please make this space your own. The case is centering a Korean family, actually, so I thought maybe the two of us could connect with them on that level. Wealthy family, they’ve been doing business in the States a long time. But the son of the founder just recently inherited the company, and he’s being accused of defrauding investors. I need you to look over the case, and tell me what you think.”

Jung Kook nodded as he took his seat at his desk, opening up the file to read the defendant’s name, Park Jimin. The name sounded oddly familiar to him, but he brushed it aside as he read the details of the case.

“…Coaxed into investments using fraudulent and misleading data and projections…” Jung Kook read out loud, under his breath, before looking up at Namjoon. “So, he allegedly massaged the numbers into looking bigger than they are, leading to an increase of investments.”

“Hm.” Namjoon hummed, leaning against the door frame. “Then when the actual numbers came in, and they were nowhere close to what he had projected, he didn’t have the money to pay out. Now it’s our problem.”

“Yeah, ok.” Jung Kook nodded. “I have some ideas but I’d like to ask him some questions.”

“Perfect. I’ll give you his contact info, but he should be flying into the city tomorrow. He wants to meet with us anyways, he just needed a little time.”

“For what?”

“He recently got engaged.” Namjoon responded nonchalantly, scrolling through the contacts in his iPhone. “She comes from a wealthy family from Busan, apparently. Their fathers knew each other, since they’re both from the city..”

“Oh, they’re both from my city, I knew his name sounded familiar.” Jung Kook acknowledged. “Since her family is wealthy, maybe I’ve heard of them, too. What’s her name?”

“Aish, I can’t remember…” Namjoon thought for a moment. “Mr. Park mentioned her, and now my mind is blanking.”

The two startled when Namjoon’s phone rang. Namjoon apologized before stepping out to take the client’s call, leaving Jung Kook with his case files to further review. The rest of the day passed for the new, young lawyer, buried in a mountain of papers and taking notes. Namjoon peeked into his office on occasion to bring him coffee, or chat, or ask him about the case. But it was a slow, calm first day.

As was the next day, and the day after that. Jung Kook got into a routine as the weeks passed, feeling a growing sense of familiarity with the way that he was able to bury himself in his work. It was a nice way to briefly consume himself and chase away the loneliness of the last two years of his life.

He slowly made friends at his new firm. Never the extrovert, he was shy at first and afraid to open up. But knowing Namjoon for several years gave him a foot in the door, and allowed him an entry way into conversations that he wouldn’t have had otherwise. They asked about his life back home, and never dug too deep when he gave vague answers. He appreciated that, and his colleagues grew to like the handsome young lawyer.

Finally, on a Friday, as the week was winding down and Jung Kook was thinking of possible weekend plans, Namjoon quickly walked into his office after a brief warning knock to his door.

“We have a surprise meeting with Mr. Park.” Namjoon explained. “He just flew in from Seoul with his fiancé, and called me to say they want to meet with us. They’ll be here in a few minutes, so grab your notes and meet me in the conference room.”

Jung Kook’s eyes widened and he responded with a quick “ok”, before gathering up his collection of papers into a manila folder, and walking to meet Namjoon, stopping momentarily only to grab another quick cup of coffee to make sure he was alert. Being his first client meeting since joining the firm, he wanted to make sure he was at his best.

Settling into the conference room, Jung Kook looked over his notes, and made sure to have a pen to write down anything he may need later. He could see a light reflection of himself in the wall of windows facing the rest of the office, which he used to make sure his hair and suit looked presentable. He was hoping that with the money he made off of this case, he could buy a new, nicer suit like the one he saw in a shop window that he passed by not long ago.

His thoughts of a modest suit however were quieted by the presence of what he knew immediately to be his client walking down the office halls, nearing the conference room. Dressed in a luxurious, designer black suit and Louboutin loafers, Park Jimin was striking at first glance. He hid his eyes behind black sunglasses despite being indoors, and his dyed blonde hair complimented his glowing complexion and lush, pink lips. He looked expensive, the textbook definition of an heir.

The woman by his side looked gorgeous, Jung Kook thought. She was also beautifully dressed, in a sharp, maroon pencil dress and heels, with sunglasses also covering her eyes. Her Chanel bag dangled off her shoulder, her head was down, and her hand was intertwined with Mr. Park’s as they walked.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Park.” Namjoon greeted with a bow as he opened the door for the couple. “How was the flight in?”

“It was excellent, thank you. Please, call me Jimin.” Jimin responded, taking off his sunglasses, before turning his attention to Jung Kook. “Hello, I’m not sure we’ve met.”

“Jeon Jung Kook. I’ve just recently been added to look over the case.” Jung Kook smiled, standing up from his chair to bow. “It’s a pleasure.”

“Park Jimin.” Jimin introduced himself. “And this is my fiancé, Y/N.”

Y/N. Jung Kook repeated in his head, his eyes widening. It’s not possible.

You took off your glasses before bowing to Namjoon, and raised to meet Jung Kook’s eyes. Your expression matched his own, recognizing the man instantly.

“Jung Kook?” You smiled warmly. “Jeon Jung Kook? Oh my God, what a small world!”

“You two know each other?” Namjoon asked with a raised brow. He looked over at the young lawyer, who was staring at you with large eyes and parted lips.

“Jung Kook is an old classmate of mine.” You explained to Namjoon and your fiancé. “We went to the same university ages ago, when we were still living in Busan.”

This was Jung Kook’s worst nightmare unfolding right before his eyes. Here you were. You. Just as warm, beautiful, and personable as ever. Just as clueless as ever. It was amazing how you could be such an angel, but put him through so much pain, and not even know it.

“How have you been?” You asked with an innocent, bright grin. “I haven’t seen you in so long!”

“I-I’ve… been good.” Jung Kook stuttered, causing the other men in the room to look at him with growing suspicion.

“Honey, I don’t know that you’ve ever mentioned a Jung Kook.” Jimin said in a sweet tone directed at you, while his eyes judgmentally looked Jung Kook up and down. Namjoon nervously watched the interaction, waiting to bud in at any opportune time.

“We just had a couple classes together.” You explained. “Jung Kook, wasn’t it um…”

“History.” He finished your sentence, quicker and more deadpan in his tone than what he meant to. “And our political science class.”

“That’s right!” You nodded. “I remember you were always so smart, I guess it makes perfect sense you practice law now.”

“We’re happy to have him on the team.” Namjoon interjected, walking over to Jung Kook’s side of the table. He noted how Jimin still seemed unsure of Jung Kook’s mannerisms, and wanted to press on with the meeting. “Let’s get started, I’m sure the two of you have plans for the evening.”

Everyone took their seat, and Jung Kook stared at the blank notepad in front of him. He could feel Jimin’s eyes on him, but pretended not to be bothered. He scribbled down the date on the paper, desperate to not meet the client’s gaze.

“So, we reviewed the case.” Namjoon began, seeing how Jimin’s death stare didn’t shake from Jung Kook as he spoke. “We think that we have an excellent shot at winning, and to be completely honest, we’re expecting the judge to throw the case out.”

“That’s great news!” You said excitedly. “Honey, you’ve been so worried about this.”

Jimin looked at you, his eyes softening and a soft smile appearing. He rested a hand on your thigh, and looked over towards Namjoon.

“That is great news. Thank you, Mr. Kim.”

“Jung Kook has been reviewing the case for several days now, and he put together a couple arguments that we’ll present to the court, and have this ordeal finished, so you can move on.”

“Y-Yeah, so um…” Jung Kook started, the weight of everyone’s stare feeling heavy and thick in the air. He was careful to avoid your eyes in particular, sure that his reaction would be less than professional. “First of all, the numbers allegedly presented to investors were never your numbers, Mr. Park, they were the numbers that your father had supposedly projected. The suit is filed against you, not the company, so we can argue that you cannot be held personably liable for any losses. A-Also, there’s no um… There’s no physical evidence of these exact projections being shown that the plaintiffs presented so um… We could argue insufficient evidence.”

If Jung Kook were brave, he’d look up from his notes to see the way you grinned at him with the same, beautiful smile he used to see walking across campus every day. If he were brave, he’d tell you how beautiful that smile, and the rest of you, have always been to him.

If he were brave, he would’ve told you that a long time ago. But Jung Kook has never been brave. Not then, and definitely not now. Not when his client is shooting daggers at him from across the table, and a sparkling 24k gold and diamond on your finger reminds him of the thing he’s always known; you’re too good for someone like him. You deserve more.

“I think that sounds like an excellent plan.” Jimin said calmly, eyeing the young lawyer up and down, before turning his attention to you. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “I think Mr. Jeon has this whole thing figured out. What do you think, darling?”

“I agree.” You blushed at your fiancé’s uncharacteristic public affection. “He’s always been so smart.”

“It seems so.” Jimin responded. “In that case, I believe we can wrap up this check-in meeting. I’d like to take my love out to dinner tonight. It’s her first time in New York City.”

“Is it?” Namjoon’s voice was pleasant but quick as he spoke. “Well, let’s not keep you two waiting. Thank you for coming in, and we’ll be in touch. Please, Mr. Park, don’t be afraid to reach out to either of us if you need anything.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Jimin said, getting up from his chair and helping you out of yours before bowing to the lawyers.

“Jung Kook, it was so nice to see you.” You said, waving at him while Jimin placed a hand on your back to lead you from the room. “Thank you for working on this for us.”

“O-Of course.” He bowed. “You two have a nice night.”

With that, Jimin led you away from the room and down the office, and Jung Kook watched as he took your hand in his and caressed your skin with his thumb. It amazed him how even after all this time, seeing you with another man makes his chest ache.

“So….” Namjoon’s irritable voice said, leaning against the table. “You want to tell me what the fuck that was about?”

“It’s nothing.” Jung Kook responded quietly, cleaning up his papers to avoid making eye contact. “Just an old classmate.”

“Nothing?” Namjoon asked with a scoff. “Our client just burned a hole through you with his glare the entire meeting, and you want to call that nothing?”

“I want to go home.” Jung Kook said with growing frustration. ��I promise, it’s nothing. It’s just been a hard first few weeks, ok?”

Jung Kook was headed out the door quickly, when Namjoon grabbed his arm to make him stop for a moment.

“If something is going on with our client’s fiancé… if there’s a history there or whatever, you need to let me know so we can manage this. We can’t lose Jimin as a client, we’d both be out of a job. He brings in too much money.”

“What, does he get into this type of shit a lot or something?”

“What do you think?” Namjoon asks. “It’s part of the job, dealing with rich clients that have more money than sense. They didn’t teach you that in class? Or were you too busy ogling her?”

“It’s really nothing.” Jung Kook said, this time more calmly through gritted teeth. “I just need to go home.”

Namjoon sighed as Jung Kook left the room, and cursed his luck with the obvious situation under his breath.

#jungkook fluff #jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #the law of attraction #lawyer!jungkook #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin x y/n #jimin fanfic #jimin fic

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dmitriene · 10 months ago

Text

THOUGHTS ABOUT BATHING WITH SIMON.

cw: fluff, comfort, slighty suggestive, established relationship, female and male anatomy, sleepy and soft simon, maybe slighty ooc simon because of his behavior, hard on, intimacy, kisses, bits of a clingy behavior, hints on sex. pairing: bf simon ghost riley x gf fem reader

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

periodically, getting simon into the bath was a bit of a challenge, not because he was against showering on a schedule, but because he was terribly tired.

being at the base, running around on various missions that, at best, took several weeks, incapacitated any person, and he was no exception, especially once he finally returned home.

he was incredibly glad to return to the warmth of your common harbor only because he could finally rest, without unnecessary noise, without one open eye in case the enemy was unexpectedly close, without annoying and depressing experiences — just a soft bed, you, and your soothing scent.

the slight smell of cologne and ingrained gunpowder tickled your nose when simon buried a slightly uneven line of his nose into the back of your neck, blowing it with periodic warm sighs and thus tickling your skin, while his voluminous, heavy hand was thrown around your waist, literally pressing you into the place near him, he wasn't sleeping, at least not completely, at the moment he was just silently enjoying your presence.

you toss and turn, causing him to pull away from you with a slight dissatisfied growl so that you change your position, facing him when he was already in a hurry to bend down to bury his face in your chest, but you intercept him, the roar of chesty growls is heard throughout the room, frozen in the morning silence, while his light stubble pricks yours warm palms, and you lift his face, seizing the moment to examine his dirty blond hair, which would be nice to wash, his stubble has grown, gunpowder has eaten into his light eyelashes, turning them black to match his bottomless, equally dark brown eyes.

simon frankly doesn’t understand why you don’t let him rest, and you are driven by sincere concern when you stroke the line of his cheekbones, tracing the edges with your fingers and scratching him like a cat, forcing his already barely open brown eyes to close with fluttering eyelashes, snuggling into your warmth and comfort closer, looking for more affection, but you are in a hurry to interrupt him with a whisper from which he frowns, practically jerks back like a dissatisfied kitten, so incomparable to a strong soldier, but this is no less charming, because such a reaction is caused by one simple invitation — «need to clean up, si, you're home already second day and just sleep all the time, i can't even recognize my man anymore»

— «no wanna» he interrupts instantly, childishly leaving the warmth of your palms and immediately turning over to the other side, showing you his bare, wide, slighty pale back, a scattering of scars, barely noticeable moles, even freckles that seem to appear to the eye as a homely canvas when he folds his hands on his chest, slightly tensing his muscles, which immediately go limp when you giggle at his behavior, pressing closer, wrapping your arms around his torso and reverently leaving a warm kiss on the curve of his shoulder, feeling the tense muscles as if under the lips themselves.

— «come on, si, i'll help you, hmm? would make you a warm, bubbly bath, help you wash yourself, give a massage to those aching muscles of yours?» you mumble rather purring, quite seductively, running your fingers along the curve of his muscle and shoulder blades, practically tickling, and he is unable to deny the craving for the way you describe it, making him growl and rise, brushing the blanket off his hips and standing in nothing but in boxers, stretching on the corner of the bed.

— «bloody woman» the only thing he mutters, not at all out of resentment and hostility, but from the realization of how much power you hold over him, forcing him to overcome all laziness and fatigue in order to finally reach the bathroom, shuffling his feet on the floor not even in slippers, throwing open the door when you follow behind him, nothing more than giggling from gloating and his domesticated appearance, just like a lazy, well-fed cat, with crumpled strands of hair, a slight softness on the sides and belly.

the smell of scented bath foam and some kind of scrub caresses your nose with soothing smells when you sit with simon, settled in a slightly narrow, but at the same time comfortable bathtub, he reclines with his arms outstretched on both edges of the snow white ceramic, looking at you sleepily through the flutter of his light eyelashes when you gently rub his chest, washing everything thoroughly, sitting in front of him in a complete nakedness and focusing on his comfort as he traces your every move.

his muscles relaxed, the hot water doing its job of softening him while you rub the scrub into his rough, scarred skin, doing deep cleansing, and he doesn’t even resist or turn his nose, allowing you to absorb the sweetish aroma into him, making his skin completely soft to the touch, as if he had just been born, leaving his hairy chest and strong muscles to go lower and down to his legs.

simon lifts one leg, following your movement, allowing you to stroke it with a washcloth that was floating nearby, applying even more foam on top of the one that was already there, while he only followed with his eyes, looking at your naked breasts and wet nipples, covered with the same foam with warm water and unable to look away, starting to pull his hand, crumpling your hip under the water and pulling you towards him, making you squeak, losing focus — «simon! what's happening, love?»

he simply grumbles, arranging you on his lap to press closer to your wet, warm skin, outlining your waist with his heavy hands, kneading the soft flesh under his fingers with pleasure, burying his nose somewhere in the intersection of your shoulder and chest, limp and relaxed, without raising his head, to which you sigh and just stroke his shoulders, moving to the back of his head and going down to his neck, scratching and purring — «talk to me, si»

he remains silent, as if on purpose, continuing to breathe measuredly into the area of your collarbone and fidget with his lips against the soft flesh, before you feel his limp cock rise slowly, rubbing against your bodies and softly hitting his lower abdomen, straining slightly, thick veins run along the length of his hard cock, the tip slowly gets wet not only from water, but also from sticky precum, and now you understand his excessive clinginess to you, giggling quietly before kissing the top of his head.

he finally raises his head in response to the light touch of your lips to his wet hair, brown eyes look absolutely calm and puppy like, moving to softly kiss your breasts, while his slippery hands change position from your hips to your thighs, stroking, as if silently asking for green color and resolution to go further, but when you tsk, he snorts in disappointment, hitting his forehead against your ribcage.

— «no, si, first i continue to wash you, and then we'll see about this» you tut, taking up the stroke of the back of his neck again, sliding down his back with pressing fingertips, stroking and pressing on the tense muscles before he mumbles — «fine, love..» and lifts his head again, tilting it back along with his back, letting you move on to washing his hands, rubbing in the shower gel and a slightly tingling scrub, as simon's head tilts slightly to the side with quiet breathing, his eyelids growing heavier with a fleeting movement of blonde lashes before he settles into a sensual sleep, his slightly hairy chest heaves with each breath.

as long as you continue to groom him, focusing back on washing his body with the still hot water, moving slightly on his lap before scooping even closer, reaching out to stroke his wet hair and squeeze the shampoo into your palm, rubbing his scalp, massaging and scratching, causing him to growl contentedly and flutter his eyes, seems that he won't be able to continue other activities after such a bath.

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