#but he calls me. and talks to me. and laughs w me.

[peachysunrize]

Hide & Seek ⥃ Vampire!Aemond Targaryen

Summary: the nightly mysterious deaths make you wonder, but your grandma’s disappearance pulls the last straw. You go to see it for yourself if the myth about the creature of the dark is true and find your granny to take her home.

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Dark content!! Manipulation!! Vampire!Aemond, smut, chasing & haunting, death, gore, Beauty & The Beast inspired! MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, predator & prey, p in v, breeding, biting, blood & blood licking, stabbing, punching, English is not my first language<3

Word count: 4.6k+

A/n: soooo I talked to a @anjelicawrites about this idea and decided to write it so thank you for tolerating me and helping me with this idea!! also a very special thank you to @sylasthegrim for beta reading this piece for me<33 It’s inspired by Ewan’s outfit and I CANT WAIT TO KNOW YOUR OPINION ON THIS!! Comments & reblogs are so appreciated!

I don’t have a taglist for my one shots so please follow and turn on the notifications of @peachysunrizefics !

It is past midnight when you are woken up by the loud bangs on the door, yelling and pounding on the wood as someone calls your name. It is strange, no one comes to your house at such an ungodly hour, especially if they know your grandmother has trouble sleeping.

You gather your nightgown in your fist before you step down from your bed, reaching for a woolen jacket to put on before you go and answer the door.

“Coming, coming,” you yell back, and as soon as the sleep is gone from your eyes, you take in your surroundings; nothing is in its place. The house is a mess with chairs broken in half, cushions torn apart, and window shards broken into a million pieces.

“What’s happened here?” you ask yourself as you walk cautiously towards the door, staying quiet as you fiddle with the locks, thinking your grandmother is sound asleep.

You find the baker's son on your door, frantic and panting. He looks at you with wide eyes, his hands trembling, and he tries to stutter the words out.

“Y-you—“

“What’s going on? Has something happened?” you ask, wrapping the jacket around yourself tighter. You look at the poor shaking boy before you notice footprints on the snow from your house to the town. “Talk, boy.”

“Granny…” he says with fear, teeth clacking as he talks, “S-she was seen walking towards the woods with someone—“

“Are you out of your mind?” you ask in disbelief, scoffing when the boy shakes his head. “Granny is asleep inside. She sleepwalks, true, but she knows how dangerous nighttime is.”

“We thought she was on a walk with you!” He tries again, sounding desperate, “When we didn’t see her coming back we came to you! Everyone knows the myths about this town and nightly disappearances. We… we fear that your grandmother is…the newest victim.”

You laugh loudly, holding your belly as shocked laughs escape your mouth. Even the idea of your granny taking a walk is hilarious but to think of her getting kidnapped by the stranger of the night seems… unrealistic.

“I shall wake her up now,” you whisper, running back inside, jumping over the ruined furniture, and as you take in the messy room; the damage is far too severe for it to be merely sleepwalking gone wrong.

“Granny?” you say in a low tone, deep down hoping she is asleep under her flower-embroidered blanket. But when you open the door, the gasp you let out is heard from the other side of the house, “No, no, no…” 

  “Miss—“

  “Where are you, Granny?” you scream and try to make sense of the things happening around you. Your grandmother is not in her bed, her room is a mess, in fact, your entire house is. You wrap the jacket around yourself tighter, wiping your tears as you walk back to the front door to talk to the boy.

“Describe the person you saw,” you demand, your nails digging into the palm of your hands, waiting for the boy to talk, “Was it… was it as the tales say? Tall and pale, one eye carved out and teeth soaked in blood?”

“W-we could not see very clearly,” he stutters, rubbing his sweaty hand against his ripped pants, shivering under the cold wind and your much colder and teary gaze, “B-but he was tall! He… he had a long coat too and long hair as well! I did not see his face but-but I am sure his hair was as white as snow!”

“Go find a scythe in the basement and bring it to me,” you glare at the young boy when he looks back at you with wide eyes and parted lips like a fish, “Go, now. I’ll fetch the horse.”

“Where are you going?” He asks, voice shaking and hesitating, “Please, Miss, at least tell me so I can help you!”

“Enough is enough,” you wipe the tears that keep falling from your eyes, walking away from the boy to go to your room and grab a thick cloak, “I can not stand and see how people act oblivious about all the disappearances! My Granny… my sweet Granny was taken away by a man! There is no evil creature in the woods, just a man with a hunger for blood. That human is sick in the head, and should be struck down!”

“You shouldn’t go to search for Granny! People have died on that route, they have been taken to God knows where. We do not need you to go missing as well!”

“I will not,” you wrap the cloak around you tighter before you march outside, the poor boy following you with a hammer in hand he grabbed from behind a couch.

“Then let us accompany you—“

“No,” you reply, panting as you move through the snow towards your stable, petting your horse before you bring it out, grabbing a saddle, and fastening it around the horse’s body, “I will do it on my own, we have enough losses already. I will find Granny and others, trust me.”

“Please, it’s too reckless to go into the woods at such an ungodly hour! Especially now that we know that creature has Granny! Miss, let me go and tell my father about this—“

“Don’t say a word to anyone, do you hear me?” you grab the boy by his collar, pulling him closer so you can whisper harshly in his ear, “He might have ears everywhere. Tell your father about this if I do not come home in a day.”

“This is absurd! You are putting yourself in grave danger—“

“Nothing will happen to me,” you kiss his forehead before grabbing the horse’s reins and jumping over the saddle, “I will find everyone and come back, and if I am lucky enough, I will kill that man.”

“Go in grace, Miss!” he yells and hands you the hammer, petting the horse and making sure your saddle is tight and ready for a run toward the woods, “Save us from the creatures of the dark!”

“I will!” you bolt through the snow, holding the reins with one hand and the other dropping the hammer into the pocket of your cloak mindlessly as you guide the horse towards the entrance of the woods.

The crows are crowing, flapping their wings, and flying away as soon as your horse reaches them. The signs are unclear, covered in thick snow as if their old writings are not fading away already.

The howling of the wolves makes you shiver in fear. Their voices are getting clearer and closer, and you need to follow the path that leads to… somewhere. You have no idea where, perhaps a cottage, or a house, or even a castle. Based on the rumors it must be a castle, or the ruins of it at least.

The tales used to be funny, a bedtime story for little kids, but as soon as the disappearances started, things turned out for the worse. It felt as if the creature’s  long-lasting savings of food of are finished and his hunger is now looming over the city.

You turn to the left, your horse resisting and neighing before suddenly the voices of the wolves grow closer. You bolt through the path, trying to escape the voices before you stumble upon a huge gate. 

Your horse is startled by the darkness surrounding the gate, and behind the freezing bars, there rests a castle in all its glory; the building is huge, and the path leading to its entrance is surrounded by neatly cut bushes. The castle’s terraces are filled with statues of unknown creatures.

You jump down from your horse, shushing the poor animal before you walk towards the gate, examining the lock that held the doors together. Grabbing your hammer from your pocket, you swing the heavy object, trying to break the lock in one swing — the first attempt is a miss, you knock the metallic bars and create a loud sound. The second time, you hit the lock but the impact is not powerful enough to break it.

The third time's a charm; with one swing, you break the lock, fiddling with the broken thing to pull it out and open the gates for yourself.

But when you look up, you notice a flickering light coming from one of the empty terraces, and a shadow is hidden in the dark. Someone is there, you are sure of that because the glinting of a clear gemstone can be seen under the moonlight even from such a great distance.

The glinting is gone as soon as you guide your horse past the gates and towards the entrance of the castle, trying to hold it from rearing back and leaving you alone, but it is a lost cause when the animal is strong enough to knock you down and run out of this creepy place.

You sigh, tightening your grip around the hammer as you slowly push the large doors open, a rush of wind knocking you back as soon as you step inside, slamming the doors shut behind you.

You grab your hammer with both hands, cautiously walking inside the large room, looking around to find a candle so you can at least see where you are heading. Eventually, you reach a table with a burning candle on it at the bottom of the stairs. Picking it up before it ends, you make your way to a half-opened door, leading to a large dining room.

The room is cold, much colder than a human being to be able to live in, and at first glance, besides the dining table and a dusty fireplace, it looks as if no one has touched it in years.

You walk further inside the room, noticing the spider webs all over the walls and couches, even on the chairs and the empty plates — all except for one. The only chair that looks clean is on the other head of the table with an identical empty plate in front of it. But what catches your attention is not the plate, it is the full goblet next to it.

You examine the goblet, noticing the red stains around the rim, thinking of the wine this evil creature must have been having. But the smell is quite unlikely from whatever you have ever drank. No wine smells like metal nor is it so thick.

You grab the goblet and swirl the liquid in it, spilling a little on yourself before you bring the edge of it to your lips, tasting the liquid. You have never gagged so harshly in your life before, but now, you gag, cough, and spit the blood out.

You back away from the table quickly, dropping the goblet on the floor. You notice a trail of blood on the hardwood, leading to the corner of the room, hiding under the shadows. With slow and shaky steps, you follow the trail, gasping when you see your Granny lying there, no color on her face and her neck torn open.

  Granny, your sweet precious Granny who took you in after your parents’ death is now dead in a creepy unknown castle possibly haunted by a mysterious man.

  You fall on your knees next to her, letting go of the hammer as you pull her in your arms, holding her close as you sob atop her. Not in even a thousand years you could have thought about her dying like this; with so little dignity, bitten and bloodied like an animal.

Your eyes catch a shadow moving right outside of the door, merging with the darkness under the flickering candlelight. The shadow is long, and you can figure out a person’s silhouette as you slowly lower your grandma on the floor, grabbing your hammer before approaching the door without making any noise.

Slipping out the door, you follow the shadow into another hall, much larger and emptier than before, only decorated with one loveseat in front of a cold fireplace and a few empty goblets on a table next to the arm of the chair. The walls are covered in different portraits of different people, but you can see how all of them have two similar traits to your unknown haunter — long silver hair and red eyes.

  “Hmm.”

  You whip your head towards the sound, gripping the handle of the hammer tightly as you search for the source. You are scared, terrified even. Who wouldn’t be if they found their grandmother dead with blood gushing out of her while they tried to make sense of the creature who only was supposed to be a fantasy? A myth not worth exploring?

  “I wonder if you taste just as sweet as you smell.”

  “Step into the light!” you scream, your voice echoing in the room as you try to keep your breathing even, “Show yourself, you monster!”

  “Monster?” He sounds so sweet, so calming and soothing, “Sweet lamb, I am anything but a monster.”

  “You killed my grandmother!” you hold back a sob as you turn around yourself, trying to figure out where he is standing, “I should kill you myself, y-you murdered all those people! You kidnapped them and-and—“

“I did not murder them against their will,” he is walking around the room, hidden in the dark, but his footsteps can be heard as he talks, “They were all on the brink of death, I took mercy upon them, and in return, well… I feasted upon them.”

“Who are you?” You yell back, walking to where you think he might be, swinging your hammer in hopes of breaking a bone or two, “What are you, monster?”

“I am the Kinslayer your tales talk about,” he tells you, chuckling when he feels you shiver, “The long forgotten blood thirsty prince.”

“Step out, coward! If you are a kinslayer as you say, then you fear nothing! Step out and show yourself to me!”

“Oh, no, no, sweet lamb,” he hums again, his footsteps growing more distant, “I will not show myself to you so easily. You have come to my home, interrupted my meal. You are in no position to demand anything.”

“I will not leave until I kill you,” you reply, swinging the hammer and throwing it at the shadow, screaming when a loud bang echoes in the hall, alerting you that you have once more missed your aim, “I will haunt you down the way you did to all those poor people!”

“Excellent!” he chuckles once more, and you can feel him circling around you, “Let us play a game, sweet lamb; I hide and you haunt me, and if you catch me, I am yours to do as you please.”

“And if I don’t?” you pant, nails digging into your palms as you try to follow his footsteps, “What will happen to me?”

  “We shall see.”

  Then you feel him leave the room, his shadow following him outside. You bolt after him, trying to keep up with him but soon you lose track of his shadow.

You have no idea what part of the castle you are in now; a large staircase leads to two wings of the castle, and each one probably contains many rooms and halls. Figuring he would follow you either way, you choose to go to the west wing, skipping a step or two on your way up as you try to find another hall and a weapon to wield.

With ragged breaths, you reach another hall, a much larger one that you assume used to be a dance hall filled with lords and ladies, and much to your luck, you find metallic armors resting on a wall, holding a sword in their hands.

Before you can run towards them, you see a glance of the man’s white hair flowing in the wind before he’s gone again. The room is quiet and dark, but you can pinpoint where things rest thankfully due to the bright moonlight.

“Come out!” you yell, making your way to one of the armors and grabbing a sword before you see the glint of his eye for one second and disappearing again.

You try to follow his steps, or even the air that thickens when he walks away, but all is lost when you can not find him in another hall. You could be lost already for all you know, you could be in the heart of the castle where no one can hear your screams while he tears through your flesh, or you through his.

The sword is heavy but it is necessary as you carry it to the other halls attached to the bigger ones — it looks like a maze, a mind game he has created just to trap someone like you inside and have his fill with of.

You are doing your very best, but even the strongest soldiers grow weak sometimes. Stopping in the middle of a much smaller hall, you look around and take your surroundings in; a small table is next to one of the walls with cuffs attached to the sides of the table, red blood stains cover the wooden surface and you finally realize you have walked into the lion’s den with your own feet.

This room is for his victims, people he takes his time with to pull out layers of skin one by one and lick the blood off of the wounds.

  “Welcome, sweet lamb.”

  You turn around quickly, holding the sword up as best as you can as he finally walks inside the room with a candle in hand, revealing himself to your angry eyes.

“You lost,” you say shakily, your hands trembling as you struggle to keep the heavy metal up, pointing it at the pale human in front of you, “Now tell me what you are.”

“Oh, sweet sweet lamb, I did not lose,” he chuckles, one hand behind his back while the other puts the candle on the table, his white hair framing his face as he looks down at his shoes before his one eye meets your frightened gaze, “I found you, which means…”

“Don’t you dare come closer,” you say through gritted teeth, holding the sword tighter in your hand while you take a step back as soon as he takes one forward, “I fucking won, now tell me what is going on?”

“Shh,” he holds his hand behind his back, his long black coat makes him even taller than he must be, and with the way he walks towards you, it starts a fire within you, a fire so bright and burning that has you breathing faster, “I told you; I am the Kinslayer from centuries ago. Aemond Targaryen, the one-eye prince.”

“That’s impossible!” you cry out when he steps closer, wrapping your fingers around the sword as hard as you can, ready to strike if he comes much closer, “Targaryens died at least three hundred years ago! You were wiped off because of what you did to people! What you are now doing to my people!”

“My family died because they were fools,” he leans a bit down, his one red eye glimmering under the orange light of the candle, “They died because they thought begging nicely for a drop of blood would keep them safe. Only I was clever enough to find a way to survive.”

“By killing people! By murdering innocent humans who were happy an hour before you took them in!” 

He steps closer until the tip of the sharp blade is pressed against his chest, but he does not back away, not really. He is not scared of death, that much is visible, but he also loves to play, and that makes it much harder to resist him. He is trying to lure you in, to hurt him, to somehow make the first move so he would not be responsible for what may come next.

“You kill animals to cook, I like my meals fresh, warm, and immediate,” he raises his hand to the blade, wrapping his fingers around it before he pulls you closer, his blood leaking on the sword and the floor as he keeps tightening his grip, “I drink to survive, and I play to live.”

“I’m gonna kill you,” your lips quiver as you say, “You have to pay for what you did to my Granny, I will make sure of it.”

“Be my guest, sweet lamb.”

You do just as he wants, wielding the sword quickly and cutting through his hand, going for another blow before he slams you to the wall behind you with his foot, knocking the breath out of your lungs.

Another swing is thrown in his way, and you try to control the heavy object in your hands but he is fast, too fast to your liking, and dodges all the clumsy moves easily, his white hair swinging behind him with each puff and sigh he makes.

With one slap to your wrists, you drop the sword and fall on the floor, looking up at him with teary furious eyes. He only smirks and kneels before you, reaching to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear but you take your chance and punch him in the jaw, pushing him down on his back before climbing on top of him, holding his rests next to his head as best as you can while he recovers from the blow.

“I will torture you until you are begging me—uff—“

He flips you over effortlessly, holding you down on the stone cold floor with one knee between your thighs and his crotch pressing your hips down while he holds both of your wrists over your head.

“You are as sick as I am in the head,” he leans down, his hot breath ghosting against your face as he speaks, “You are enjoying this.”

“I am not!” A lie, you know it is a lie, he knows it is a lie. You do enjoy this little game, you love the thrill of killing him and fighting with him. The rage inside you bubbles more with each passing second that you are in his presence, “I would rather die—“

“I will not kill you until I have had my fill,” he whispers, hiding his face into your neck as he sniffs you, “Fuck, you smell so divine, I need to taste you, sweet lamb…”

“Fuck!” You let out a noise between a scream and a moan when he bites down on your shoulder just above your collarbone, his fangs pushing past your flesh as he reaches deep inside and starts sucking harshly, “You monster!”

He only hums and smiles, his thin lips wrapped tightly around the open wound — he can not get enough. He knew how sweet you smelled, your scent drove him crazy as soon as you stepped inside his castle but to get to taste you? Licking and gulping down your blood like a starved man is something he did not expect, especially when you are still alive and writhing beneath him in pain and pleasure.

  He can make you taste even sweeter.

  “You call me a monster while you are rocking your hips to relieve some of the ache between your thighs,” he says as he lets go of the wound, his chin and teeth covered in crimson red, “So pathetic of you, sweet lamb.”

You do not have anything to say, not really because he is already pushing your nightgown up to your hips with his free hand while his other is undoing your cloak. You shiver when the cold air of the room hits your heated inner thighs, your pearl throbbing in anticipation and primal desire.

He is just as mesmerized as you are when he rips your underwear to shreds and runs his 

fingers through your wet folds, enticing a whine from you. He has you right where he wants.

You writhe beneath him as he circles your nerves with his thumb, making your body tremble with each stroke, your cunt clenching around nothing, wetness dribbling out of your hole in need.

“It’s my time to play,” he announces and reaches between your bodies to free his already aching cock, stroking a few times until it stands in full hardness. 

He wiggles around a little while you try to free yourself from his grasp, not trying to yield too quickly, but the look on his face is enough to make you whimper and spread your legs further for him.

Aemond guides the tip of his weeping cock to your entrance, pushing in completely with one swift thrust, drawing a loud moan from your sweet lips as he sheathes himself inside you fully, filling you up nicely.

Your walls grip his length tightly, pulsing and squeezing him every few seconds before he starts moving, his hips snapping into yours as he holds himself up with one hand pushing your wrists into the floor harshly while the other holds his body up.

Your back arches off the stones, legs wrapping around his waist as your mind goes to another place, taking his cock like the sweet lamb he calls you, allowing him to take and take from you — he has prepared you after all with his silly games of hide and seek, seeding the thrill inside you.

“I shall keep you alive,” he groans in your ear as he once more moves his head to the wound he created, licking the blood from your shoulder while his cock nudges the deepest part of your cunt, making your body quiver in sheer pleasure, “Your blood is too sweet for me to waste. I will keep you here with me, as my doomed queen while I feast upon you every night, leaving open wounds for me to drink from whenever I desire—“

With a newfound strength, you wrap your legs around his waist tightly and flip him over until his head hits the stone floor and you free yourself from his grip.

Now with you on top, you take the lead, riding his cock as best as you can. Hands spread on his covered chest while you rock your hips front and back, moaning like a harlot in heat as you bring both of you to the edge of euphoria.

He falls apart first; the sight of you on top of him while half of your body is covered in blood is too much for him. It has been too long since he has had a woman bedding him, but now, with a sweet lamb like you trying to bring some pleasure to yourself by using him, he is a gone man.

He paints your insides white with his cum, and you lean back on his shin to make room for yourself, bouncing on top of him faster when suddenly you feel a dagger in his boots. 

The sudden revelation makes you climax right after him, your wetness gushing around his girth as you ride the centuries-old vampire to your pleasure while you pull the dagger out as best as you can with your entire body shaking in pleasure.

“Sweet lamb—“

His voice is lost when you stab him in the heart, not once, not twice, but five times, screaming and crying while you keep stabbing him until there is enough blood to bathe in, but even then, you do not stop. You slit his throat as well, and it is then that you feel his body soften and go limp completely.

You drop the bloodied dagger and try to move, completely pulling yourself away from his body as he bleeds out and his seed drips out of your sensitive cunt.

You took your revenge, now all you can do is hope for his seed to rot and die inside of you, or you will have to bear the offspring of a dead vampire legacy.

[rosyhoneydew]

nsf/w continuation of this fic below ⬇️ happy Thanksgiving pt. 2!

Buck opens the door for them to step back inside. He thrills a little at the feeling of Tommy's hand on his waist. God, it feels good to have those hands on him again. Chimney's alone in the kitchen, bagging up turkey and setting the dishes in the sink. He smirks at the two of them when they walk in and Buck resists the urge to smooth down his hair where Tommy had grabbed at it.

"You two talk things out then?"

Buck gives him a look. "You know there were easier ways you could've gotten us to talk."

"This way seemed more fun," Chimney responds lightly. "Can I get you some leftovers, Tom?"

"That would be great, thanks."

When Buck looks up at him, Tommy is smiling. He looks like he's come back to life. It's a stark difference from the cautious, uncomfortable man that walked in a few hours ago.

Tommy catches him looking and the smile grows sweeter.

"Come home with me tonight," Buck leans up to whisper.

He gets an eyebrow raise in response.

"Just to spend one night, not- I'm not asking for more than one night."

Tommy leans in even closer, his lips pressed to Buck's ear. He places a kiss at the soft spot of his jaw and whispers back, "Okay."

They pack up the night quickly after that. Tommy helps with the dishes, You guys did all the cooking, let me do this and Buck gets called into Jee's bedroom to say goodnight. When he emerges, 2 stories later, Maddie, Chim, and Tommy are standing around the counter, chatting and laughing. It sends a ripple through his heart. He can't help but think of Maddie's advice I think you have to trust the Universe is gonna bring you a special person. What could be more special than this, he thinks, a warm feeling washing over him.

Tommy drives them back to Buck's apartment. There's a slight hesitancy in him as they walk inside, maybe wondering if Buck has changed his mind, remembering what happened last time. Buck hasn't. He grabs Tommy's hand and pulls him inside.

He doesn't give either of them the time to overthink. The moment they're inside he's got his arms around Tommy's shoulders, kissing him messy and dirty and full of pent-up feeling that he's been trying and failing to burn out in his oven.

Tommy matches him step for step, he wraps one arm around Buck's waist and drops the other hand to his ass, squeezing and pulling him closer. They stand there, making out in Buck's kitchen for minutes on end before the desperation Buck feels becomes too much. He pulls away, pecking Tommy on the lips a few more times, like he can't stop.

"Bed?" he asks.

Tommy nods, repeats, "Lead the way."

Buck walks them upstairs, shimmying off his pants and shirt before laying back in the center of the bed. Tommy watches for a moment, like he can't believe he's here. It's sweet, but Buck is hungry so he spreads his legs wide and drops a hand to his dick, playing with it over his boxers.

"Come on," he urges.

Tommy follows after that, dropping to his knees and hooking his hands behind Buck's legs. He uses the leverage to pull Buck to the edge of the bed, nuzzling his cock the second he's eye-level. It's not what Buck was expecting, the sudden movement and stimulation making him gasp.

"Baby," he groans.

Tommy opens his mouth and places kisses along Buck's cock, sucking through the cloth at the head. It's dulled by the cotton, but the feel of Tommy's warm mouth and tongue pressing against him still leaves Buck moaning through it.

Tommy pulls his underwear down at the sound, staring at Buck, fully bare and flushing under the attention. The sensation of being watched sends tingles through Buck's body and he squirms. Tommy holds his hips to keep him still.

"I've missed you so much."

"You talking to me or my dick?" Buck asks.

Tommy sends him a look, but it dissolves in a moment. "Both," he admits. "I love your dick."

"Yeah, you miss having it inside you, baby?"

Tommy groans. Buck wishes either of them had the patience for that tonight. He lifts his hips a little instead.

"Want your mouth."

Tommy doesn't make him wait. He licks up and down Buck's cock a few times and then sucks the head inside his mouth. It's hot and soft inside his mouth, the way it always is, and Buck moans.

He sucks the head a few times, getting the angle right before he takes Buck down, going all the way until his throat is stuffed full. It makes a wet, clicking sound when he does and Buck gasps in response, eyes closing in arousal. He's always loved the sound of sex.

Tommy works him faster after that, gliding up and down in a wet slide that leaves Buck moaning and twisting in Tommy's hold. It doesn't take him long to get close. The feeling of Tommy's tongue pressing flat against him and the Tommy's right hand slips up to play with his balls and press just behind them gets him there.

"Close, baby, I'm so close," he gets out, urgent.

Tommy groans, working faster and spending more time sucking at the head as he does. He runs his tongue in figure eights there and slides down in rapid up and down motions and Buck is gone.

Buck can hear himself moaning and tries to keep his hips from fucking up into Tommy's throat with too much abandon, but Tommy doesn't seem to mind. He moans himself, swallowing and sucking Buck through it.

Buck is still coming down when he notices, Tommy's got his head resting against Buck's thigh, his mouth open on the grunts and groans pushing forward. He's got one hand, still wet with Buck's come, stroking his cock fast and hard. Buck's not even sure when Tommy got his pants undone. The sight of it is so blingingly erotic that Buck feels a shockwave of arousal run through him again. It's not long after that that Tommy looks up at him, eyes pinching before they roll back as he comes.

They sit there breathing for a moment, before Buck pulls Tommy up to the bed that has to be hell on your knees. Tommy lays down next to him, reaching a dry hand over to weave his fingers into Buck's. There's still so much to say, so much that Buck wants to make sure they air out, but for now they're content to lay like this. They've got time.

[daisymbin]

15. "you’re my favorite person, you know that?"

w/ woozi showing favoritism to reader

of course!!! thank you for requesting 🤍

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fluff prompt #15: "you're my favourite person, you know that?"

it was a lazy afternoon at the dorm. the boys were scattered across the living room, some playing video games, others talking or scrolling through their phones. you were sitting on the couch, flipping through a book, when hansol and seungkwan walked in, both looking unusually serious.

"hey, jihoon," seungkwan called out, making his way over to where jihoon was sitting at the kitchen counter, focused on something on his laptop. "could you help me with something?"

jihoon barely looked up from his screen. "what is it?

"i need you to help me figure out what to wear for tomorrow’s event," seungkwan said, looking particularly dramatic. "you know, something that'll make me look good but still comfortable."

hansol, standing beside seungkwan, added with a smirk, "yeah, and make sure it's stylish. we can't let him embarrass us."

jihoon sighed, clearly unimpressed. "not today, guys. i’ve got work to do."

seungkwan shot him a pleading look, even crossing his arms in a show of exaggerated desperation. "please, jihoon, you're the only one with taste around here! i can't trust these other guys with my wardrobe."

hansol rolled his eyes. "i have taste too, you know."

"you still think wearing a tracksuit to an event is a good idea," jihoon said, finally looking up with a raised brow, and hansol made a face in response.

"fine, fine," seungkwan said dramatically, throwing his arms up in defeat as he turned away. "we'll just go ask someone else then."

hansol nudged seungkwan and made his way to the couch where you were sitting. "think you could help us out?"

you looked up from your book, blinking in confusion. "me? help you guys with what?"

hansol grinned and pointed to seungkwan. "help him pick out an outfit. you know, show him how to look good for once."

seungkwan grinned as well, adding, "yeah, just a little fashion advice, that's all. nothing serious."

you chuckled, amused by their antics. "i’m not a stylist, guys, but sure, why not? i can help out a little."

just as you were about to stand up, jihoon interrupted, his voice laced with the usual mild annoyance. "seriously? you're going to help them?" he looked at you, then back at seungkwan and hansol with a shake of his head.

"they'll be fine," you said with a grin. "they just need a little guidance."

seungkwan nodded eagerly, and hansol went to the couch, sitting down next to you. "thank you, thank you! see, we knew you'd be the one to help us."

jihoon made a face but returned his attention to his laptop, not bothering to hide his mild irritation. "whatever," he muttered. "i don't have the patience for this."

you could feel jihoon’s eyes lingering on you as you helped seungkwan pick out an outfit. you gave your honest opinions on a few shirts and pants, explaining that some of his choices might be a little too... flashy. you narrowed it down to five shirts, unsure which would look best on him, and after a moment of indecision, you turned to jihoon, who was still at the kitchen counter.

"jihoon," you called, "can you help me decide between these? i'm not sure which one would look best."

jihoon paused for a second, his expression softening just slightly. without hesitation, he got up and walked over to where you were sitting. "you’re asking me to help? alright," he said, the slight amusement in his voice & the small smile on his face making it clear he wasn’t annoyed.

seungkwan, watching from the side, raised an eyebrow. "wait a second," he said, crossing his arms. "when i asked for help, you said no, but now that she asked you’re helping out? that’s not fair!"

you laughed, feeling a little embarrassed as jihoon chuckled lightly. "he likes me, that's why," you teased, giving jihoon a playful look.

seungkwan groaned dramatically. "that's such favoritism. when i ask, it's ‘no, i’m busy,’ but when you asks, it’s ‘sure, let me help.’" he shook his head, turning to hansol. "unbelievable."

you smiled at jihoon as he helped you pick out the best shirt for seungkwan, still teasing, "i guess you just know i need your expertise, huh?"

after a few more minutes of finalizing the outfit, seungkwan was satisfied, and hansol leaned back, clearly relieved. "thanks for saving us from a disaster," he said with a laugh.

"someone has to keep you on track, you would've picked the wrong one," jihoon replied dryly, though there was a soft smile on his face. "but also, you're my favourite person, you know that right?"

you don't answer except for the smile adorning your face, "that's so disgusting," hansol comments as seungkwan faked a gag.

seungkwan waved you off. "seriously, you're a lifesaver."

you smiled but then noticed jihoon still sitting across the room, not paying attention to the conversation anymore. there was a shift in his expression, something you couldn’t quite place, but it was clear he wasn’t exactly happy about being left out of the decision-making process.

when the others finally left to get ready, you stayed behind, gathering your things to leave too. jihoon’s voice broke the silence. "you always help them out so easily," he said quietly, his tone just a little sharp.

you turned to face him, a small frown tugging at your lips. "what do you mean?"

"i thought i was your favorite person," jihoon muttered, looking at you with an unreadable expression. "you didn’t even hesitate to help them."

you were caught off guard, your heart skipping a beat. "jihoon, i—"

he cut you off, his eyes meeting yours. "i’m just messing with you," he said, though the slight hint of vulnerability in his voice didn’t go unnoticed.

you took a few steps closer, noticing how his words weren’t as light as usual. "you’re my favorite person," you said softly, smiling as you stepped into his space, your hand gently brushing his arm. "but you’re also the hardest person to convince. you never ask for help."

he raised an eyebrow, a little teasing. "i don’t need help."

"yeah, but you need me," you said with a wink, pulling his attention back to you. "and that’s okay. it’s just… sometimes, i want to help you too."

there was a long pause, and for a moment, you thought jihoon would brush it off, but instead, he leaned down a little, his lips brushing your forehead. "you know, i kind of like that," he said quietly. "you’re the one person who can always get me to change my mind."

jihoon’s lips curled into a small, genuine smile. "you already have it."

you smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "good, because i plan on keeping that title."

[deadratdonoteat]

Based of the song Casual. Friends with benefits but on if you caught feelings.

Roronoa Zoro x reader

Tags- angst but fluff

W.C= 1.7k

The beating sun brought sweat to my skin. The thin t-shirt I was wearing didn’t cool me off enough. Even the jean shorts weren’t enough. The ship swayed with the waves. “This Sucks,” I complained.

“Shut up, loser!” Nami shouted at the small table we both sat at, “Don't call me that” I glared. She scooped up the few coins on the table into her shirt.

“Well you keep losing, so you're a loser!” She chimed. Sighing, standing up, I began to walk away. “Going to your swordsman?” I could basically hear the smugness of her. Ignoring her I walked to the front deck, where I knew he’d be. And there he was, lifting weights. Leaning on the wooden rail to watch. His muscles flexed as he raised the weight. Sweat shined down his forehead.

“Creep,” he mumbles purposely loud enough for me to hear. I chuckle at his words. A small smile grows on his face.

“You know you love it when I watch you,” I roll my eyes at him. He shrugs his shoulders but you know it's true. Honestly you hoped he loved you. You two were more than friends. Though it was never official, how you two act with each other is more than friends. The countless times you've been alone together, pressed against walls in a flurry of hushed touches and kisses. None of the crew knew that when you and Zoro were alone, you’d basically makeout instead of doing what's needed. Zoro's voice cut me from my thoughts.

“Staring at me like a lover,” he laughed. I guess when I zoned out my eyes stayed on him. Him saying that hurt a little but it was just a joke. I laughed along with him but what he said cut deeper, “We're not together..” He looked away and continued working out. Why would he say that? It’s not like I said we were or tried to argue with his previous statement. Was he purposely trying to hurt me?

-

Zoro and I were left alone to guard the ship. Nami knew what she was doing with leaving us alone. Me and him watched as the crew's figures disappeared. As soon as they were no longer in sight, I turned to ask something but was cut off by the moss head’s lips crashing into mine. My eyes widened. His hand cradled the back of my head, his other hand on my waist. He had never been this needy. Who does he think he is doing this after saying such hurtful things earlier? As he pulled away something in his eyes told me he wanted more. He enjoyed it so why was he denying it?

“No attachments, baby,” He said while walking into the kitchen. I was left alone. My eyes are still wide but not with surprise. Did he really say that? He really said ‘No attachment’ right after pulling me into a kiss? I'm so confused.

-

The crew sat at a restaurant. Luffy demands meat and making Usopp pay. Sitting next to the swordsman like usual. EVeryone would know something was wrong if you didn’t.

“Y/n, open wide,” a deep voice spoke. Turning to look at the green haired man, his fork was right in front of me with a slice of meat on it. I could see Nami’s smile from the corner of my eye. If some stranger saw me and him they’d definitely assume we were a couple. After he fed me the meat, Liffy started asking Zoro to feed him his meat too, which ended with yelling.

After leaving the restaurant with full bellies and Usopp’s empty wallet. The moon shined bright enough to light up the paths.

“I’m headed to get Sake,” Zoro declared, grabbing my arm and heading to some shop. I could hear Sanji call out to keep me safe, but Zoro just scoffed. The small shop smelled awful, probably a smell Zoro loved. At the checkout counter, the old man started small talk.

“What a lovely couple,” he said slowly. He was a small man. Zoro placed what he wanted on the counter, and looked at me expectantly.

“Want me to pay?” He nodded, “Is that why you brought me along,” he nodded again at my question. I thought he wanted company. The cashier cleared his throat. When I was about to answer, Zoro cut me off.

“We're just casual friends,” he claimed. It was weird, he was starting to do too much. The old man just looked at my expression of confusion. I’m sure he knew what was going on.

-

I left the deck to grab drinks for Robin and Nami. As soon as Nami made sure I was gone she turned to the swordsman.

“Alright Zoro, what are your feelings for Y/n?” Nami asked with frustration, she was tired of seeing her close girl friend be sad over a guy. Zoro looked at the navigator with his brows furrowed.

“WHat are you talking about?” He asked. Robin was listening into the conversion, just acting like she was reading. Nami sighed in frustration at his thick skull.

“Y/n! The super pretty chick, the seamstress that fixes all our clothes, the one who always accompanies you so your not lonely, and even carries your ass when you black out from battle or from drinking?” Nami dragged on, making sure he got the concept. Zoro had sometimes wondered how he’d wake up in a soft bed with water next to him and you’d always be there to make sure he's okay.

“Yeah? What about her?” He rolled his eyes and turned away from the two girls. He could feel Nami’s anger boil behind him. He was about to tune out everything until he heard laughter. Your laughter. He would be able to find it in a crowd, his knees would always go slightly weak when you laughed. He turned around to see what was making you laugh, but the sight made his blood boil.

Sanji was carrying a tray with tropical looking drinks, while fawning over you. Your cheeks were slightly pink with blush. That damn cook was making you laugh and blush? Zoro gritted his teeth. Oh how badly Zoro wished to punch that piss head away and carry you away in his arms. Zoro stopped himself. WHat was he thinking? Take you away? And then what? Get a small house by the sea and he’d get to show you off to everyone? God it sounded nice. Zoro shook his head. These thoughts are why he needs to get away from you. Even in the middle of battle zoro would only think about you. If you were safe or when the next time he’d be able to kiss your angelic lips again. He was starting to sound like the cook. A shiver went down his back just thinking about it.

The first time he kissed you was because he could hold it back anymore. You're just so beautiful, smart, and stupidly charming. That night when you both had watched together. You looked like a goddess in the moonlight. He couldn’t stop himself from leaning in and he was thankful when you didn’t pull away. SInce then he struggles to not touch or kiss you everytime he sees you.

-

“Y/n, we need to talk,” Zoro spoke slowly. Walking through the woods to get to the others after Zoro insisted he knew the way. Your heart sank. What was he going to talk about? A million thoughts swarmed your head. He stopped in his tracks, you stopped right behind him.

“Nami tol dme something,” his words made your heart stop. Did Nami seriously rat you out?

“What is it, Zoro?” you asked timidly. Sure you can fight devil fruit users, get shot, almost drown and not think anything of it. But the second you're alone with Zoro everything is thrown out the window. He turned around to look at you, his head tilted down to fully see you. As you looked up you could sense where this was going to go.

“Nami talked to me about some feelings you had,” He confessed. His eyes looked away. Your face heated up from embarrassment. “ANd i think I need to straighten some things out,” he continued, “Y/n I-” “You see me only as a casual friend, I get it,” you cut him off coldly. You didn’t want him to say it. It would hurt too much. He sighed. Your eyes started to water. The guy you were basically in love with just rejected you, even after weeks of kissing each other like lovers. He’s going to blow you off like this? His left hand rested on your shoulder, his right one coming up to your chin.

“That’s not what I was going to say,” he chuckled. He raised your head to look at him, your eyes widened. What could he possibly want to say? The moon casted a halo around his taller frame. He looked angelic. He leaned in close, his breath hitting your ear.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to be more than ‘casual friends’” his warm breath heated my neck. My face felt hotter from his confession. Was this a dream? He pulled back and looked into your eyes. “Is that alright baby?” he asked. Your heart skipped a beat.

“Yes! Yes, yes a million times ye-” his lips crashed into yours.

-

Bonus-

After agreeing to keep it a secret from the crew you two got back with them. The ship rocked as you all boarded.

“What's that on your face, Zoro?” Nami asked with her usual smug smile. The crew all turned to look at him. Sanji’s jaw dropped to the floor as he looked between the two of you.

“FInally,” Robin sighed, walking to the upper deck. Both yours and Zoror’s eyebrows were raised. WHat were they talking about? Turning to look at each other, you froze. You may or may not have forgotten you were trying out a new red lipstick tonight. Zoro’s lips were stained red as well as kiss marks all around his face. Your cheeks flushed. Zoro’s eyes widened at your smeared lipstick on your lips, he could put two and two together.

So much for keeping it a secret.

<3

[lanormie]

blipped - mcu crossover au (pt. 4)

you're forced to navigate the aftermath of The Blip, where half of the population get thrown back into existence after disappearing for five years. pairing: pro-hero!Shouto x f!pro-hero!reader (ft. slight katsuki x reader) read on AO3 previous part

For what seemed like hours, you watched Katsuki go through all five stages of grief through his texts. He would go through them in the utmost chaotic order, barely grazing Acceptance before flipping right back to Denial. Anger was the only constant, though maybe it was just Katsuki being Katsuki. 

A casual ‘happy birthday baby’ would go right into him lashing out with fuck-yous and other expletives, then take a dizzying sharp turn with him apologizing profusely and more sweetly than you’d ever expected Katsuki to be. The next minute he would monologue for pages about the most random thing then call you rude for not texting back.

It was after about two years and a half when his laments slowly started to peter out. Acceptance took the driver seat, his spread out texts took on a melancholic overtone instead of pure manic. 

Then it stopped altogether after four years.

* * * * *

You find Shouto in the rear courtyard methodically hanging up freshly laundered clothings and beddings on the clotheslines.

You have stopped questioning a long time ago why the wealthy family of six (plus all the strays they keep taking in, like you for example) doesn’t own a dryer, and instead have come to love the nostalgic scent of line dried clothes.

Thin sheets flutter in the breeze, catching the harsh afternoon sunlight in their undulation. Birdsong twirls and mixes with the sound of wind rustling through crisp autumn leaves in a wordless call and response. Everything is so peaceful, so quiet. Too quiet. It vehemently contradicts the storm brewing inside of you.

You think it’s trying to say that the world would march on regardless of what’s happening to little insignificant ol’ you .

In fact, it did.

“You’ve been in there for a while. Are you alright?”

Shouto peeks out from behind a blanket. Whether he means in your room or in your head, since you look like you’ve been glued to the doorway, you don’t know.

You step into a pair of outdoor slippers set neatly on one side of the porch and make your way towards one of the laundry baskets.

“Sorry I didn’t come back out. I was reading Katsuki’s texts. There were… a lot of them.”

Falling back into the song and dance of pinning clothes onto the sturdy cotton ropes is easy. You’ve helped out Shouto with laundry duty many times before, knowing exactly how to space things out so the drying is optimal.

The lingering scent of detergent nudges its way into your hair and weaves into the warm sunlight around you like a hug.

“He was the one who gave me your phone, with some choice words about showing up here if I didn’t give it to you.”

“At least that part of him hasn’t changed.” You sigh. “He said he’d kept the stuff from my apartment at the agency and he wanted me to come by tomorrow to talk to him.”

“That is blackmail.” Shouto frowns. “You don’t have to go, we can replace all of your stuff.” 

“I don’t know what is worse, Sho. Facing him or sitting here dwelling on it.” You smooth out the damp pillowcase for the dozenth time. “He was…hurt. Badly. It might not have been my fault, but I was the cause nonetheless.” 

Shouto reaches over and gently stops your hands from anxiously fussing with the fabric.

“That doesn’t mean you’re not hurting too.”

He tosses half of the final sheet over the rope and hands you one end, and you both slowly walk backwards to spread the sheet out.

Once both ends are secured with wooden clothespins, Shouto collects all the baskets and sneakily flips one upside down over your head. Your surprised laugh is muffled slightly in the confines of the rattan weaves, and he lets a soft smile dance across his statue-like features.

“If you decide to go, I’ll walk back with you.” 

“Slacker. You're just using me to get out of work.” You lift the basket from your head and start heading for the porch.

He simply shrugs. “It’s not slacking if you’re not on the payroll.”

* * * * *

The open front gate of the agency threatens to swallow you whole as you stand stock still in front of it. Normally you would have to scan yourself in, but with the number of returning employees that are no longer part of the system, they have temporarily switched to manual check-in in the main lobby, leaving the gate wide open.

Yet you can’t seem to bring yourself to walk through it. As if it’s a threshold of something that would trap you in and you would not be able to back out.

Your grip on the red metal hand truck tightens. Maybe this is a bad idea. Maybe you’re still not ready to see him.

Perhaps you can head straight to the storage, grab your most important stuff then run right back out, and Katsuki will be none the wiser. 

So you push yourself forward, greet the receptionist with the best smile you can muster, quickly grab the code for your container and take the stairs down to the storage floor, the hand truck trailing in the air behind you.

The storage is basically an underground warehouse that contains about a hundred metal pods, all under temperature and humidity control. You are honestly glad that Katsuki had brought your belongings here, since finding them under 5 years of dust and spiderwebs wouldn’t exactly be thrilling.

The heavy door echoes loudly in the otherwise eerily quiet warehouse, making you wince. Reaching for your phone to double check the pod number, you see a text from Shouto.

‘Please let me know when you’re done, Sero is recounting 5 years of pop culture and he’s going to let a Solo Leveling spoiler slip, I just know it.’

You shoot back a quick ‘lol will do’ with a small smile on your face, your anxiety subsiding a smidge. You make your way to the far left corner where your container sits and plug in your code. The roll up door quietly opens, the light automatically turns on and you hear something stir.

Your couch is sitting neatly against the side wall, and the person laying on it just got woken up by your entrance.

And their squinting crimson eyes widen the moment they register that it’s you.

“How long have you been in here for?” You question, internally lamenting your ruined plans.

“I got an overnight patrol.” Katsuki sits up and roughly rubs the grogginess out of his eyes. His voice is significantly deeper with sleep, its familiarity tugging hard at you.

You look away and curtly hum in reply. Setting the hand truck by the door, you step into the pod and start rooting through the pile of boxes strewn all across the room. You can feel his eyes follow you closely, until he eventually clears his throat.

“What um, what are you looking for?” 

You don’t think you’ve ever heard Katsuki sound so unsure. Maybe he’s as unprepared for this ‘conversation’ as you are.

“My clothes.” You keep your eyes on the boxes in front of you, still unable to find it in you to look at him.

“Here.” He stands up and reaches for a few boxes sitting on top of your dresser. But before he can walk over with them, you lift them out of his hands with your quirk and float them over to the hand truck.

“Thanks.” You mutter, still digging through boxes with no real purpose. 

“Right.” He nods, then pats another box next to him. “This one too, if you wanna– you know,” He gestures towards the red metal contraption that’s slowly disappearing behind the growing tower of boxes.

“Sure.” Another one-worded reply.

Katsuki leans back against the dresser and watches in a mix of disbelief and awe as you pull out your cherry blossom snow globe from a box, shake it up and watch the petals dance. You look exactly the same as 5 years ago, but of course you do.

It’s absolutely surreal seeing you right in front of him after mourning you for so long, and he finds himself lost for words.

He hated the way you looked so broken when he left for the emergency the other day, and he didn’t want to leave things like that between you two, so he insisted on seeing you today to talk it out. He also just…wanted to see you again.

But now that you’re here, he doesn’t know where to even begin.

“I’m sorry.” is all he can muster.

“For what exactly?” You finally, finally look at him.

He doesn’t have an answer. And you seem to already know so.

“That’s the thing, Katsuki.” You try your darndest to keep your voice from breaking. “It hurts so damn much for me to look at you right now but at the end of the fucking day it’s not even your fault.”

A rolling wave of pain, guilt and longing crashes against the shore of Katsuki’s eyes, but he remains quiet.

“I can’t expect you to wait for me forever.” You weakly shake your head. “Yet I feel betrayed all the same. Utterly, pathetically betrayed.” You shove the snow globe back into its box and start pinching the bridge of your nose as incoming tears burn your nostrils.

Katsuki pushes off the dresser and makes his way over to you.

“I don’t give a fuck if it’s my fault or not.” He stops in front of you. “Go on, yell at me. It’ll make you feel better.” He grabs your wrist and holds it to his throat. “Punch me. Hell, you can float me to the top floor and fucking drop me, I can take it. Please.” He searches your eyes. “I know you’re hurting, so hurt me back.”

You wriggle your wrist until he lets go.

“I think I’ve already hurt you enough.”

Your tears are free falling now. Heavy globs of salty liquid trail down your cheeks, still puffy from the past days. Without thinking, Katsuki reaches up to wipe them, only for you to hastily step back.

“Hawks offered me a job, and I’m taking it. Don’t expect me back.” You practically run to the hand truck to strap the boxes in. “I’ll ask Shouto to get the rest of my stuff when I find a place. You and I should,” you sputter, hardly able to breathe properly. “We should stay far, far away from each other, or it’d be difficult for both of us.” You take a deep inhale. “And for your fiancé.”

You don’t bother to hide the bitterness behind that word. You see him open his mouth to plead your name but you cut him off.

“Goodbye, Katsuki.”

And with that, you turn away, the metal dolly dragging sluggishly behind you as you walk out of this agency for the last time.

[moowmoon]

LOVE'S MELODY

— aaron hotchner x toretto!fem!reader

— summary: after a long day at bau, aaron wants nothing more than to dance with his partner.

— c/w: fluff, just pure fluff.

— w/c: 1k

— a/n: hi! how are you guys doing? this is my fic entry to margovember, hosted by the amazing margot aka @pathologicalreid! this fic is also in my toretto!reader universe and, of course, i made aaron being a little bit swiftie (i'm new to this world, so please be nice with me) and have "cruel summer" as his favorite song! i hope you guys like it and let me know your thoughts, my ask box is always open to talk/share things! english is not my first language, so forgive me if there are any mistakes!

The room was plunged into a cozy dimness, illuminated only by the warm light coming from the lamp in the corner of the room. The soft sound coming from outside contrasted with the comfortable silence that filled the space; it was almost ten at night, and the city's nightlife seemed to have taken a day off. On the sofa, Aaron was sitting with a cup of tea in his hands, his shoulders finally relaxed after a long day at work.

She was lying with her head in his lap, leafing through a worn paperback, but the silence between them was like a silent embrace. A small smile appeared on Aaron's lips as he observed the tranquility of that moment. Then, without warning, an idea flashed through his mind like a bolt of rare spontaneity.

“How long has it been since we danced together?” he asked, his voice low but full of lightness.

She raised her head in surprise. “Dancing? Here?”

Aaron took a small sip of his tea before standing up carefully, moving towards the corner where the small, delicate speaker rested. With a few taps, music began to fill the room, the familiar melody bringing back memories of old stories and laughter that were hard to forget. He turned, holding out a hand with a shy but inviting smile.

“That song again?” she asked, laughing softly.

Aaron turned around with a twinkle in his eye. “Why not? Do you have something against the best dance song of all time?”

“Not exactly…” she stood up from the sofa, crossing her arms, an amused expression on her face. “But I remember well the last time you called it 'the best song'.”

Aaron frowned for a moment, pretending not to remember, before letting out an almost inaudible laugh. “It was at Dave's wedding, wasn't it?”

“Exactly. And I swear you stepped on my foot at least three times.”

“It wasn't that bad,” he retorted, but the slight redness in his cheeks said otherwise. “This time, I promise I'll make it up to you.”

“Let's see if practicing has really improved your performance.” she commented, moving closer to him.

With a deliberate gesture, Aaron held out his hand, a rare, relaxed smile lighting up his face. “Come on, I promise I won't step on your toes… several times, just a few.” 

She laughed, accepting the invitation — after all, it was hard to turn down an offer when Aaron smiled like that, so inviting and sincere. “I don't know what's more surprising: you're asking me to dance or trying to make a joke.”

“I'm full of surprises,” he retorted, gently pulling her towards the center of the room.

The music lulled their movements, but the initial rhythm was anything but elegant and coordinated. Aaron tried to lead, but his steps were so out of sync that everything went wrong. They bumped into each other, tripped over their own feet, and a laugh escaped her lips.

“Hotchner, you're terrible at this!”

He arched an eyebrow as they tried to adjust their rhythm. Even so, the steps were still clumsy, as if they were dancing for the first time. In a particularly comical moment, Aaron took an exaggerated turn, almost knocking them both over.

“Okay, now you're just making up moves!” she said, grabbing his shoulder to regain her balance.

Aaron smiled, his eyes shining with a joy that seemed as rare as it was precious. “It doesn't matter if we're off the pace. As long as we're together, everything will be perfect.”

The laughter began to subside, giving way to calmer, deeper breathing that matched the tempo of the music. Aaron watched her, her eyes reflecting a mixture of amusement and tenderness that made the atmosphere seem even cozier.

Her previously clumsy movements began to align themselves naturally, almost effortlessly. He wrapped one of his hands around her waist, while the other rested gently on her shoulder. She, in turn, slid her hands to Aaron's chest, leaning on him as if there were no safer place in the world.

Music filled the space around them, but the sounds seemed distant as if the moment belonged only to the two of them. Neither of them spoke, but the looks they exchanged said it all. The weight of everyday life, worries, and responsibilities seemed to dissipate, replaced by a quiet, deep connection.

Aaron tilted his head, resting his forehead against hers, his movements now so slow that they hardly seemed to be dancing. “I needed that.” he murmured, his voice low and husky, like a confession.

“Me too.” she replied, a soft smile forming as her arms now circled his waist.

And so they continued to sway to the music, leisurely, enjoying the comfort of being exactly where they belonged: in each other's arms.

The last note of the song hung in the air before disappearing completely, leaving the room plunged into a comfortable silence. But Aaron and his partner were still there, hugging each other, swaying gently as if the melody was still there, playing just for them.

Aaron's eyes were closed, his breathing calm as he rested his chin on the top of her head. The warmth of the moment seemed to arrest time, making everything slower, and more meaningful.

“You dance better without music.” she joked softly, her voice almost a whisper, laden with affection.

Aaron laughed softly, a sound so rare that his partner couldn't help but smile in response. He tilted his head, meeting the other's gaze, and the intensity there spoke more than any words could.

“Thank you for that.” he said, his voice low but full of sincerity.

“For dancing?” she asked.

“For reminding me what it's like to feel light.” he replied, a small but genuine smile forming on his lips.

She held his face gently, her thumbs tracing slow circles on Aaron's cheekbones before placing a light kiss on his lips. “Whenever you need me.”

Finally, they parted slowly, as if the moment called for caution, and returned to the sofa. Aaron settled down, pulling her close. The forgotten book was taken up again, but now the tranquility had a new weight: a comforting presence, woven by dance and shared intimacy.

[pinkhor1zon]

i find comfort in you

genre: fluff, comfort

pairing: idol!woonhak x non-idol gn!reader

warnings: nothing but woonhak is playing ow.

word count: 0.6k words

maia’s note: little drabble bcuz it’s woonhak day!! he’s 18 now.. he’s growing up so fast :(( i love unak so much and i hope he has a great day filled w/ lots of love!! also this work is NOT very good and isn’t really proofread but it is cute. enjoy reading!! reblogs and likes are always appreciated 🩶

after a long and exhausting day, this is just what you needed.

there you laid in woonhaks embrace, watching him struggle in his current game of overwatch. “aghh!!” he frustratedly groaned at the screen. him and his team had just lost the objective.

you giggled, observing his reactions. his lips were sealed in a pout and his eyebrows were furrowed together.

“what? is my frustration funny?” he said, keeping his eyes locked on the television.

you smiled, still looking at him, “yes, very.”

he let out a scoff and you ruffled his hair. the whole week you two hadn’t been able to spend time together. he is, of course, an idol preparing for his next comeback, and you’re a student, a hardworking one at that.

you both found passion for your respective careers, that being what bonded you together. but sometimes, this passion can be too strong. and more often than usual, you both become extremely burnt out.

woonhak’s game finishes with a loss and he falls back into the couch, you still in his arms with your head resting on his shoulder.

he isn’t his normal self. usually, when he loses, he’s more dramatic about it and performs some act like falling to his knees or reaching out to the tv screen, but he doesn’t do that. seeing this, you definitely know it’s because he’s too tired.

you hum, “that was a good game.”

he sighs, “it wasn’t. i’m so out of it.”

he looks at you and your faces are just inches away. looking at him like this; you see the dark circles under his eyes and the droopy corners of his mouth.

“woonhak..” you pause until he gives you a look that signals you to continue. “you can talk to me about anything okay? your worries are mine, and even if you don’t want that, it’s uncontrollable.”

“but i don’t want to be a burden to you.”

you give him a reassuring smile, “you could never be a burden to me.” you take his hand and carve little hearts on it. “let’s make a promise. whenever one of us is feeling exhausted or upset, let’s tell each other. we can be each other’s escape, hm?”

he nods, “okay.” woonhak sticks out his pinky finger and you entangle yours into his, locking your promise.

after this he pulls you closer to him, into a full hug. he snuggles his face into the side of your neck and mumbles something. you pull away and look at him with confusion. “what is it?” you ask.

woonhak responds, intertwining both your hands together, “nothing much. i just find comfort in your presence; you in general.”

your face warms up and you smile, but it turns more into a grin.

his cheeks flush, “hey! why are you laughing?”

you shake your head. “you just,” struggling to get the words out from your laughter, “you’re too cute hak!”

woonhak wasn’t a big fan of being called cute, but when you say it, it’s the best compliment he’s ever gotten—especially with that nickname.

“hey.. you can’t just say things like that.” he says, turning his head the other way so you couldn’t see the huge smile on his face.

you notice this and turn your head in that direction so you can see him face to face, leading you both to start bursting with laughter.

“you can’t say anything! i saw you cheesin’!” you say in between laughs.

“no..” he replies, trying to stifle the laughter.

days and weeks go by as woonhak does his idol duties and you go through the school cycle. but throughout those times, you stand by each others side; holding the others hand through it all.

please DO NOT copy, repost, or translate.

[cielcius]

the way i’m starting to think this guy might just turn out to be my husband one day

[celestialrealms]

Fun fact: In Barbatos's intimacy storyline in Nightbringer he ends up living with Solomon and MC at Cocytus Hall temporarily. Here's a highlight from his 40 intimacy call:

The way he makes Solomon sit in the corner. 😭 You cannot convince me he didn't raise this man.

[nerosdayinanime]

"Im worried what people would think of you then, that you're just a personal whore or something- i don't want to ruin your reputation.."

"Are you kidding? 'My dick was so good i got promoted-' Thats the biggest flex i can think of!"

"Well, you're certaintly enthusiastic about this."

[girlcrushau]

[cerealmonster15]

i dont think i ever felt more annoyed at commercials than when those mean girls walmart ads were playing a few months ago or whenever that was

[hua-fei-hua]

when i was a kid i really resented the fact that my mom kept forcing us to check out nonfiction books alongside our fantasy novels in order to "broaden our minds" and basically ensure we were learning Real Factsies(tm), but now that i'm older, if i don't go off and learn some Real Factsies(tm) every so often, then i'll end up finding my fictions dull and uninspired

[juniestar]

My psych says I don’t like my mom or my ex because they make me vulnerable but I think it’s because they are/were both serial boundary violators. Well serial boundary violators sounds serious but I mean they are just good kind people who would not leave me alone when i ask(ed)

[princemick]

god my brother is so impressively fucking capable of ruining my mood

[autism-corner]

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