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nats--sw · 5 months ago

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Gold chain (pt4) | Leah Williamson

You and Leah finally met up again, nerves and laughter mixing as you both tried to hide how excited you were. warnings: just fluff and slow burn pt1 pt5 my masterlist

Leah had been glued to her phone all morning and part of the afternoon. She’d gotten used to it over the past few days, anxiously waiting for a message or call from you. The last interaction had been the previous night, when Leah tried calling you a couple of times after hearing about your elimination at Berlin. She hadn't been successful; you had rejected all the calls. Even though you were a bit calmer by then, you didn't want to feel or hear Leah's sympathy. Not yet.

At least you left her a goodnight message, saying you were trying to process the tough day you'd had. But that wasn’t enough for Leah. She needed more than a brief text; she wanted to hear your voice, to know you were really okay. The waiting and worrying were driving her crazy, and she kept checking her phone, hoping for a sign that you were ready to talk.

At least the photo shoot that morning had kept Leah busy for a couple of hours, providing a brief distraction from her constant worry. But she knew that once she got home, she'd be checking her phone again, hoping to hear from you.

She had just said goodbye to her staff and was about to get in her car when her phone started buzzing. Without even checking to see if it was you, she quickly got into the car and felt a wave of relief when she saw your name pop up in her notifications.

Her relief turned to confusion when she opened the message and saw a picture of the front of Emirates Stadium.

"This is the famous home of London's biggest club?"

"I asked a guy and he said I was wrong, that I should go west."

"Isn't this Stamford Bridge?"

Leah bit her lip to keep from smiling. She was getting more and more used to your quirky sense of humor and sarcastic comments.

"You're into comedy now?" Leah quickly typed into her phone, not yet getting what was going on.

"You wish."

Before Leah could respond, another photo popped up, immediately followed by a message.

"Do you think if I ask for it they'll give it to me?" The picture showed a huge banner with Leah's face on it.

"I'm a big fan."

That's when it hit her. Were you really in London? Already? You were just playing in a tournament in Germany yesterday.

Leah looked out the window of her car, seeing the same sky that was starting to darken, just like in the photo you had sent.

"What the hell? You're here?"

Leah couldn't hold back her excitement. Without waiting for your reply, she dialed your number. Without waiting for your reply, she called you. As the phone rang, she started her car and plugged in her phone.

"Hello?" Leah could hear the smile in your voice.

"I can't believe it," Leah said, nervously running a hand through her hair.

"What? That I'm your fan?"

"I already knew that," Leah replied, pulling out of the parking lot. "Stay where you are, I'm like twenty minutes away."

"Make it fifteen."

Leah became a bundle of nerves as soon as she got out of her car. This was only the second time you’d be seeing each other in person, and the first time alone. She walked around for a while, until she finally spotted you taking pictures. Feeling awkward and unsure of how to approach, she was glad your back was turned.

Leah opened her mouth to say your name, but nothing came out

This time was different from the first. You knew each other now, had chatted about all sorts of things, and shared some nice moments over video calls. You weren’t strangers anymore.

Meanwhile, you were completely unaware of Leah behind you, busy taking pictures. Satisfied with your shots, you stepped back and bumped into someone. You turned quickly, ready to apologize (or snap if it was some weirdo). But like Leah, you were left speechless.

Neither of you said anything at first, the tension thick in the air. Leah’s nervous smile matched yours, and you couldn’t help but let out a nervous laugh.

Leah thought your laughter was even more contagious in person than over the phone, and she immediately started laughing too.

"What are you doing standing there like a stalker?" you asked once you both calmed down a bit.

"Actually, by standing here I'm protecting you from any stalkers."

"Woah, how gentlemanly of you," you said with a grin.

"Yeah, I know," Leah replied, flashing a smile. She held your gaze, looking down at you since you were only slightly shorter than her.

"Don't look at me like that," you said, laughing nervously again and giving her a gentle nudge on the shoulder.

"I’m making you nervous?" Leah asked, genuinely curious. She had seen you go through other emotions before, but had never seen you nervous. The two of you had shared so many video calls, but this was different.

"Yes," you admitted, shoving your hands into your pockets. You glanced around and wrinkled your nose. "This is your place... it's a little intimidating, realizing how big you are here and what your image represents. I hadn't really taken it all in until now."

Leah tilted her head slightly, trying to understand. "What do you mean?"

"You," you said, looking back at her. "You're not just Leah to everyone here. You're a big deal. Talking to you has been... Well, like I’m just talking to Leah. But now that I'm here, seeing everything with your face in it, it's like, 'Whoa, this is who I've been staying up all week chatting with.'"

Leah felt a warmth in her chest at your words. She never thought of herself that way.

"I don't think it's anything to make a big deal about," Leah replied, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks.

"Of course not, Captain Williamson," you retorted, rolling your eyes. Leah's body trembled slightly at your playful jab.

"Well, you're a big deal to me too, you know. And right now, I’m just Leah." Leah continued. "I've seen your face on giant billboards too, you know."

You were about to respond, but Leah turned to you with a raised eyebrow.

"Where are you staying?"

"Ah," you chuckled, noticing the not-so-subtle change in topic. "I have a room booked at one of the downtown hotels."

"Are you with your team?"

"No, we're taking a few days off," you said, avoiding mention of yesterday's dressing room incident, which had caused the current situation. Nor did you want to bring up your recent appointment with your therapist a couple of hours ago.

"So I assume you messaged me because you got lost and don't know how to get back to your hotel?" Leah asked, heading back towards where she had parked her car.

"Actually, yes," you lied. You knew your way around London, but Leah didn't need to know that. "I just didn't feel like going straight back to the hotel, so I've been wandering around all afternoon."

"And you still don't want to go back?"

"I just don't want to be alone."

"Can I suggest something?"

You smiled at Leah's offer.

The drive to Leah's house was quiet, mostly because halfway there you had drifted off to sleep. It had been a long day, or rather, two long days: the morning flight, the session with your psychologist, the extensive walk around town, and everything that had transpired the day before. It was a lot to handle in such a short span of time.

Leah's car smelled like her, a comforting scent that started to ease your stress. She knew when to stay silent, creating a soothing vibe that made relaxation inevitable.

As you slept, however, Leah couldn't shake a bit of guilt. Maybe you just needed to rest, and here she was, possibly dragging you along to plans that might not even interest you.

When you woke up after she parked outside her house, Leah turned to you with a gentle concern in her eyes.

"Are you awake now?" she asked softly. "I can drop you back at your hotel if you'd rather." she offered, still buckled into her seatbelt, confident that you'd want to leave.

"What?" you mumbled, sitting up straight and blinking to clear the sleep from your eyes.

"You look exhausted, Y/n," she said softly, her voice carrying a hint of worry. Her gaze was gentle, trying to read the emotions behind your tired face.

"I'm just exhausted, but I know I won't feel any better alone in that hotel, believe me," you said, trying to reassure her and convince her it wasn't a bad idea.

Leah's concern deepened as she took in your tired demeanor. After a few moments of contemplation, she took a deep breath as she unbuckled her seatbelt.

"Well, let's go then," she said softly, her voice carrying a touch of warmth.

Leah's home wrapped around you with a scent even more intense than the scent of her car. The place had a cozy charm.

"I wasn't expecting a guest, so if you find anything strange, just ignore it, please," Leah chuckled nervously as she led the way inside.

"It's lovely," you grinned, following her inside. It was fascinating to explore the place you had only seen through a screen before.

"Thank you," Leah said, heading towards her kitchen. "Are you hungry?"

If someone had told you a few weeks ago that you'd be at Leah Williamson's house, sitting down to a hearty meal of potato smiley faces and chicken nuggets, you would have probably raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

"Is this your idea of gourmet food?" you chuckled, eyeing your plate—it looked straight out of a children's menu.

"Absolutely," Leah said with a grin, grabbing two glasses and a bottle of wine. "I did promise to treat you, after all."

The cozy kitchen and Leah's relaxed demeanor made you feel at ease.

"Well, you basically dragged me along."

"Hey, don't put it like that," said Leah pouting. "I gave you the option of taking you back to your hotel."

"I'm just messing with you, Leah," you said with a laugh, gently taking the bottle of wine from her hands to pour the glasses. "But seriously, this dinner is going to be a memory I'll cherish."

"I feel like you're making fun of me," she said, narrowing her eyes playfully.

"No, I'm serious," you replied warmly. "It's actually kind of sweet. I've never had this before."

"I just had to toss the potatoes on a tray, you know?" she said, chuckling softly, brushing off any praise.

"Come on, just take the compliment, Leah."

Leah chuckled softly and settled into the chair across from you, taking a bite of a potato with a thoughtful expression."So... Can I ask why you're here?"

"You invited me," you replied casually, flashing a grin.

"I'm not talking about that..."

"Ah," you replied casually, popping a nugget into your mouth. "I just had a bit of a breakdown... they're making me take these days off now, which I'm actually enjoying a lot," you admitted, locking eyes with Leah. "I've been in therapy the whole year, having regular sessions, but it's been weeks since I last talked to my therapist. Well, until today.”

"And? How did your session go?"

“Well… I’m definitely drained, that’s for sure,” you admitted with a sigh, setting down your glass of wine. “We talked a lot about managing stress and pressure, trying to find new ways to cope.”

Leah nodded sympathetically, her gaze steady on you. "It sounds tough."

"Yeah, it is," you admitted, running a hand through your hair. "But I think I'm making progress. It's just taking time, but I'm starting to figure out how to handle all the pressure"

"I'm glad you're taking care of yourself, it's important. You can talk to me too, I also know what it's like to live surrounded by pressure constantly. Maybe it’s not the same but-”

“It is,” you said with a smile, gratefully at her gesture. "Thanks, Leah. It means a lot.”

After finishing, you both moved the talk to the couch, ready to open another bottle of wine.

"You know what?” you said, sinking into the cushions and stretching out your legs comfortably “I'd love to watch you play football sometime."

Leah chuckled, settling beside you and pouring wine into glasses. "Really? You think I'd impress you on the field?"

"You never know," you teased, nudging her playfully. "It would be fun to see another side of you."

"I thought you'd rather watch Chelsea," Leah said with a mischievous grin, her feet up on the couch, almost brushing against yours.

Both of you were clearly enjoying the evening, the warmth of the wine adding to the relaxed atmosphere.

"I can always watch you when you're playing against Chelsea," you replied with a playful smirk.

Leah fell silent for a moment, her gaze drifting away before she asked softly, "And who would you support?"

"Don't you remember I'm your biggest fan?" you replied with a smile, reaching out to gently touch her hand. "Of course, I'd support you. I mean it, I'd love to see you out there on the field, doing what you love”

Leah's cheeks flushed again, a mix of embarrassment and something warmer she couldn't quite name. She hoped you would attribute it to the wine rather than your words.

"My head is starting to hurt," Leah murmured, her words slightly rushed as she tried to distract herself. "Would you mind staying here? But if you want I can call a-"

"Of course not," you reassured her with a grin, trying to lighten the mood. You leaned back, already feeling a bit dizzy from the wine's effects. "Or am I not allowed to stay?" you teased with a playful smile.

You were beginning to enjoy how flustered Leah was getting, it was adorable that she didn't seem to realize her feelings might be mutual. Unless you were completely misreading all her signals, there was a palpable tension between you.

"I'll get the guest room ready for you then," Leah said softly,a slight stumble in her step as she headed towards the room.

The next morning, Leah woke to the sound of your phone ringing from the other room. Rubbing her eyes, still half-asleep, she tiptoed barefoot out of her own bedroom and quietly made her way across the hallway to the guest room. Pushing the door open gently, Leah's heart fluttered as she found you under the covers, peacefully asleep.

Leah glanced at the screen and recognized your coach's name flashing on your phone.

"Y/n," she whispered in a hushed tone, gently shaking your shoulder to wake you. "Your phone," she urged, giving you a firmer shake this time.

The ringing stopped just as your eyes blinked open, adjusting slowly to the morning light.

"Huh?" you said, a little disoriented by the strange room. You turned towards Leah, her face soft and concerned. It took you a few seconds to remember why you were there. "Leah- Good morning" you said quickly, a little embarrassed, straightening up in bed.

"Your phone," Leah repeated, her voice soft as she tried to get your attention, but you were too distracted. Now fully awake, you couldn't help but notice Leah standing there in just sweatpants and a bra

Leah looked a little puzzled as your mouth hung open and your eyes slowly trailed down from her face to the rest of her body. It was then that she realized she hadn't bothered to put on a shirt before waking you up.

"Good morning," you repeated quickly, pulling your gaze away with a faint blush creeping up your cheeks.

"I wouldn't mind waking up like this more often," you thought to yourself, a slight grin tugging at your lips.

"I'm sorry," Leah apologized, unsure exactly what she was apologizing for. "Your phone was ringing, and you just wouldn't wake up."

"I'm a heavy sleeper," you mumbled, rubbing your face sleepily. The thought of staying in bed longer was tempting.

"Maybe it was important. You should check... while I get breakfast ready," Leah suggested before stepping out of the room.

When you entered the kitchen, you couldn't help but pout slightly upon seeing Leah now wearing a shirt. She stood at the stove, her back turned as she hummed a soft tune.

You couldn't resist the urge to approach her quietly, your heart fluttering with a mix of anticipation and affection. You tiptoed closer and gently rested your chin on her shoulder.

"What are you cooking?" you whispered softly, surprised by how calmly Leah received your presence.

"An omelet," Leah replied, her attention fully on not burning the omelet. "Do you like them?"

"Yeah, it smells good," you replied.

You fell silent again as Leah flipped the omelet.

"You smell good," she said casually, her attention still on the pan, showing no sign of embarrassment.

"I haven't showered yet," you blurted out, feeling yourself blush. It was nice to hear such words, even in that context.

"You ruined the moment," Leah teased, a smile playing on her lips as she shook her head and gently nudged you away. "Go sit down."

Leah carefully slid the omelet onto your plate and set it down beside a steaming cup of coffee. She then placed the same in her plate and took a seat next to you.

"Is it alright that I made you coffee?" she asked, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

"If you're trying to keep me awake, it's exactly what I need," you murmured, taking a sip from the cup. "Delicious," you said with a satisfied sigh, enjoying the warmth spreading down your throat.

Leah smiled warmly as she picked up her fork and began to eat.

"What time do you have to leave?" she asked casually, glancing at you with curiosity.

"Are you kicking me out already?" you countered with a playful grin spreading across your face. Leah rolled her eyes playfully.

"That was your coach calling, I guess he wants you back already," she clarified with a hint of worry.

"No, I think Lucas is having the time of his life with these days off," you commented, relishing the taste of the omelet. "Damn, this is good. I didn't know you could cook," you exclaimed, taking another enthusiastic bite.

"It's just eggs," Leah shrugged.

"Well, it's the best omelet I've ever had," you praised sincerely.

"You're such a smooth talker," Leah laughed, her laughter filling the room. Her joyful demeanor was starting to win you over more and more.

"It's my talent," you joked, finishing off the last bite of the omelet. "Anyway, Lucas just wanted to check in, make sure everything's cool and that I didn't do anything too risky that could affect me physically with the tournament coming up."

"Sounds reasonable," Leah nodded thoughtfully, cutting half of her omelet and adding it to your plate. She had a feeling you enjoyed it, maybe because omelets weren't something you ate often.

"I'm so happy," you said, savoring every bite. "Remind me to have this every day when I'm away."

“So, what are you up to today?" Leah asked, curious about your plans.

"Uh," you mumbled as you wiped your lips with a napkin. "I actually wanted to learn something new, since I'm now banned from going near a tennis racket," you added quietly.

"What do you want to learn?" asked Leah curiously, setting down her coffee cup.

"Teach me how to play football!" you exclaimed with an excited smile, leaning forward eagerly.

"What?" Leah asked, caught off guard and nearly choking on her coffee.

"Yeah! I want to learn. I'm pretty sure I can't even kick a ball properly—oh! oh! Teach me how to head it. I've always wanted to try," you continued enthusiastically.

Leah shook her head, her expression a mix of disbelief and amusement. "But you said your coach didn't want you doing risky things."

"Come on, Leah, it's football.” your eyes sparkling with determination “How dangerous could it be?"

"Ouch! Red! Yellow! Foul! Foul!" you groaned dramatically from the ground, clutching your ankle.

Leah folded her arms, a playful smirk tugging at her lips as she looked down at you. "I barely touched you," she said, kicking the ball back and forth with her foot.

She had effortlessly taken the ball from you, causing you to lose your balance and tumble to the ground.

Leah started out playing gently with you, almost as if she were playing with a child, letting you have your way. However, as she heard your teasing comments about how easy it was, her competitive spirit kicked in.

"Another goal," she declared triumphantly, kicking the ball into the small goal set up in her backyard. "What's the score now, like 10-2?" she asked with a playful smirk, hands on her hips, looking down at you still sprawled on the ground.

You groaned, realizing she wasn't holding back anymore. Her playful demeanor had shifted into full-on competition, and you were loving every minute of it.

"Call an ambulance," you groaned, your voice strained with pain, eyes tightly shut.

Leah's heart skipped a beat as worry flooded her. You seemed genuinely hurt, and she felt a pang of guilt for possibly causing it. She hurried over, her mind racing with concern, and knelt down beside you on the grass.

"Where does it hurt?" Leah asked, her hand gently touching yours. You opened your eyes and looked at her, seeing the worry in her expression.

"It's just... here," you said, then quickly pounced on her, effortlessly knocking her down. "Gotcha, Williamson," you teased with a grin, enjoying Leah's confused expression.

It took Leah a moment to process what had happened. Suddenly, she found herself lying on her back on the grass with you sitting on her abdomen, legs straddling her, in a playful and unexpected turn of events.

"Damn, Y/n, you scared me," Leah said, taking a deep breath to calm herself.

"You'll need a lot more to break me down," you replied proudly, unaware of Leah's hands sneaking closer to your body. Suddenly, tickles sent waves of laughter through you. "Leah! No! Stop!" you managed to protest between laughs, attempting to fend off her tickling hands but finding it hard to resist in your laughter-filled state.

"It's the least you deserve!" Leah exclaimed, her smile mischievous. "You nearly scared me to death!" She took advantage of your moment of weakness to flip you over, switching positions. Now, it was your back against the grass with Leah sitting on top of you.

Before you could react, Leah swiftly grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, securing them to the ground. Her eyes sparkling with a hint of playful affection.

Both of you were breathing heavily,cheeks flushed from all the laughter and movement of the past few minutes. Leah let out a sigh, and you felt a surge of anticipation as her face moved closer to yours. Your heart raced with anticipation, thinking she might kiss you. But instead, you felt Leah's forehead gently rest against yours.

"Don't play with me like that," she whispered softly.

You froze as her breath tickled your lips, her nose brushing against yours, and her perfume surrounding you. The gentle brush of her nose against yours sent a shiver down your spine.

"Leah..." you murmured, feeling her grip on your wrists tighten at the sound of her name.

"Don't ever scare me like that again," she whispered, pulling back slightly from your forehead but not releasing her hold.

Your eyes locked, the air thick with unspoken feelings.

"I'm sorry," you murmured, a shiver running through you as you felt Leah's gaze fixed on your lips.

"Do you mind if I..." she began softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

It was the moment you had been secretly yearning for. It was the confirmation of the deep feelings stirring within you every time Leah crossed your mind. All you wanted and needed was to feel her lips against yours.

"Leah," you said impatiently, nodding eagerly as your head moved up and down a few inches.

Leah took a deep breath, her eyes fixed on yours, filled with a mixture of hesitation and longing as she leaned in closer.

You felt her lips brush against yours, the brief contact sending a thrill through you. But just as the kiss was about to deepen, the doorbell rang.

In the blink of an eye, Leah pulled away, releasing your hands and creating an abrupt distance between you.

"Fuck," you muttered, frustration and desire mixing in your voice, as you were left alone in the backyard with your heart racing.

#leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson x you #woso x reader #woso imagine

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honeyydrunk · 10 months ago

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nct are such fraternity boy college athletes fuckboys coded it's insane !! everyone i see a video of those men with the homosexual tendencies, vaping addiction, and their athletic garments, it really only cements this theory. their disography and music videos add to this too 😔✋ u know 90's love, universe (let's play ball), alley oop, bad alive eng ver.

can imagine them walking around this elite prestigious campus all loud and obnoxious. they know everyone is looking at them and want to fuck them too. they're chronic drinkers, vapers, cheaters, fuckboys. what would get most students expelled, they do on a tuesday afternoon.

nct are mostly made up of foreigners right? watch them walk around the campus as rich international students, some are here on academic or athletic scholarships they don't need. everything they own is designer. playing the 'sorry my korean isn't so good, can you help me?' card, and what they want help with is you sucking their dick.

the korean members aren't any better. they're every single horrible stereotype you hear of korean hongdae fuckboys. will come up to you all sweet and pretty, but they're horrid.

cw for under the cut: they are toxic males

can literally imagine haechan vaping on the college campus, moaning in the back of the class obnoxiously, and pulling the thing where he jokingly asks for your number ALL THE TIME. going to college parties and getting wasted after 3 drinks idk 🤷 ,,, he'd be so whiny and teasing too. bc obviously he's a rude BITCH but he's so pretty and whiny and flirtatious. he's fucking everything in sight, absolute whore!! his body count is triple his age. he'd genuinely try to suck one of his friends' dick and claim it doesn't mean anything because he has clothes on !! 😔✋ he'd be stroking his dick while you're in the room, whimpering your name. the type to get on his knees and beg for any kind of attention from you..

mark lee starting off being a cute college boy canadian transfer but becomes the NOTORIOUS korean pastor's son fuckboy in like the span of 3 months. he'll act real nice, and that's because he is real nice. being super sweet and asking if you want to get coffee with him and study. and he's so good with his words you'll think that's all it is. but then of course, since he's so good with his words he'll have you blushing and giggling as he takes you back to his apartment and gets your clothes off. talking yapping so much you don't even realise what he has you doing, that you're just another girl he's pulled. he'll still be whispering when his face is in your pussy. telling you how easily you cum. "dang girl, wait a lil' can't you?" implying you're the whore,

YUTA yuta is the entire campus crush. the star football ⚽️ player and the rockstar vocalist in a band. has sex with all the groupies that come to his concerts. he's dragging people up on stage to shotgun them while the guitar break plays. absolute heartbreaker. would definitely kick the ball to your head so that when it hits you, he has to go over check if you're alright, take you up to the nurse and wait with you. he is such a liar, it genuinely hurts. lying all the time and making up words and stories left and right. but he smells like cherries and watery perfume !! he tastes like it too. you'll be coming to all his garage concerts just to see if you'll be the one he takes backstage to fuck after. he's like a god, half the time you don't even realise he's a student like the rest of you. he's just an angel sent to have fun and fuck or smth.

jaemin nah he's horrid. he'll cheat on you, and with his cute smile you'll forgive him instantly. 😔✋ he'll spend a little cash dress you in designer, make you cum until you faint, and tell you how beautiful and perfect you are for him. he will genuinely have you thinking those girls meant nothing to him, theyre just a way to vent his stress and you're the only one he loves. and then bro will say he can't stay the night, as he needs to wake up early for training. you agree, obviously. and he left for another girl's house to fuck her too. when you met him he smelled so sweet, and it was someone else's perfume. each of his girls swear they're his favourite of his, and one day he's planning fucking them all in the same room.

JOHNNY SUH? he would abuse the american transfer student status. he walks around without a shirt, soaking wet, and never get pulled up. he's rich too, got bands on his wrist and multiple cars. going on holidays overseas every chance he get and hosting parties every weekend. when you get drunk at one of them, almost falling off the balcony, someone will come up and help you to a chair. he'll take real good care of you, going above and beyond. so you can't let this guy leave when he's everything you've ever wanted. so you pull yourself onto him and ride him while the party rages on inside. make sure his dick feels so good he'll ask for your number. but you don't know that you're the fifth girl who's thrown herself at him that night.

taeyongie ^-^ he's the prettiest guy you've ever seen. bros too sweet and shy to be handing out with the rest of the neo WHORES. he's the leader of a lot of clubs but he mainly sits in cute little cafes. genuinely he seemed too adorable? to be considered the 'leader' of some horrific ahh fuckboys. until you check twitter and you see someone's reposted his MANY MULTIPLE HE HAS A LOT sex tapes. he's surrounded by ridiculously hot guys and girls, and they're passing him around like a joint, and he's begging to be humiliated. they're making him cum so much he crying. he's stronger than most of them but he's letting himself be thrown around like a doll. absolutely wrecked. looking in the camera with pretty black eyes and a slurred voice before someone shoves a cock back in this throat "am i pretty?" zhong chenle is the epitome of the chinese international student stereotype. he's almost never there, never takes off his sunglasses. he has several of those douyin type baddies trailing after him. "you have nice collarbones and pretty eyes, i like. what's your instagram?" he'll be talking with his friend renjun about what yacht he should buy during class. he can buy your affection simply because he's just that rich. will shove his black card down his pants and tell you there's only one way to get it. buys rolex watches so that he can have it on while he fingers you. dresses you in diamonds and he doesn't want to be paid back in cash. qian kun is there on an academic scholarship, but he doesn't need it. he's just that good, the school begs to have him attend. he's not a fuckboy in the conventional sense but he's just as nasty. he wants to have the perfect girl for him, to bring back to his family. he'll look for the most naive but academic girl he can. he's a manipulator. he's trying to mold you into what he wants. he'll replace your entire wardrobe with designer, but he picked out all the clothes. he'll plan cute dates for you every day, but it's to stop you from hanging out with your skanky friends. he'll buy you a new phone, but he's already added software tech to spy on you. in some essences, even though he's not a fuckboy, he's much worse than one.

jisung, like taeyong, looks so sweet. but he's NASTY. he'll seem too quiet to be hanging out with the rest of the dreamie WHORES. so you don't mind sitting next to him in your lecture. but he's just a mix of all of dream. he's good with his words like mark, and he'll have you agreeing to meet at his place EASY. he's too cute to refuse like haechan and jaemin. and then the renjun part hits, silent and sneaky, he'll be doing everything to make you think you're coming on to him. once he finally has you, he'll make a mess of you like a feral animal, the way you've heard jeno fucks. and you realise he's just like the rest of the dreamies, you shouldn't have thought otherwise. he might actually be worse than all of them.

tell me if u want me to make these like a full post or add more characters IM SO CRAZY DELULU RN SORRY xx !! 💋

#nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #wayv smut #haechan smut #donghyuck smut #mark lee smut #yuta nakamoto smut #jaemin smut #johnny suh smut #taeyong smut #chenle smut #kun smut

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amomentsescape · 6 months ago

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Slashers x secret admirer!reader.

How would they react to all the small gifts left for them? Would they track the person down? Would they confront them? Would they stalk them? How would the slashers react if the gifts stopped for a period of time?

Slashers with a Secret Admirer

Slashers x Secret Admirer! Reader (Separate)

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, & Bo

Freddy Krueger

Oh, he knows

There isn't a way for you to be discreet when he can literally enter your mind every night

That's how the admiration started for you in the first place

Seeing him there, taunting you in such a creepy and yet powerful way

Something drew you in

And the feeling is mutual

I mean, why else hadn't he killed you yet?

He keeps his eye on you whenever he can, sometimes ensuring your dreams are happy and not all nightmares

Some are still terrifying though

He knows you like the thrill

You've tried to surprise him with gifts and letters a couple times, but he knows about them before he even receives them

You really can't keep anything from this guy

And don't even think about taking anything back

You started this whole "game" between you two

There's no way out now

Michael Myers

He immediately assumes the worst

The moment he sees the gifts and letters left for him, he quickly believes that someone is out to get him

You're trying to play mind games with him, but it won't work

Nobody will ever best Michael

He watches you for a while, plotting his moves carefully and thinking of the best way to get back at you for your taunting

There really wasn't anything about your gifts that seemed threatening to him

In fact, he quite liked a couple of the things you gifted him

Well, as much as Michael could like something other than killing

And this is partly what angered him so much

How on earth could you know him well enough to gift him such items?

He was going to get answers one way or another

And it was going to be soon

Jason Voorhees

He's honestly just baffled

How did you even find him in the middle of nowhere?

And even worse: what were you plotting?

No one has ever shown him kindness before besides his mother

This type of attention is so foreign to him that he just assumes you have the wrong person

This was all just some weird accident

But he's happy to play pretend for a while

And if the gifts suddenly stop, he can't help but feel disappointed

You must have finally figured out that he wasn't the one you were trying to impress

He won't be the type to try and figure out who you were

It all just seemed too sweet to be real, and he just wanted to play into the fantasy for a while

It was nice while it lasted

Thomas Hewitt

He quickly guesses that this is just some poor joke being played by someone in the family

No one comes out here

If they do, they're dead

And if a person was really wanting to surprise someone, there was no way he would be that someone

But after days of keeping his eye out, none of his family seemed to be acting suspicious

So this is just odd

He goes on and lets the gifts keep coming

It honestly gives him something to look forward to each week

But after a while, he becomes too curious on who you are

So he does what he does best: he sets a trap

Nothing to hurt you, but he just has to know who this secret admirer is

He doesn't want to go another day without feeling this level of kindness ever again

Bubba Sawyer

A gift? For him?

This has to be Christmas, right?

He prances around the house every single time, flaunting whatever new item you sent his way

He truly believes that you must be his guardian angel looking out for him

That's the only explanation

But as many know, Bubba isn't very patient

If he's craving something sweet, he immediately takes the candy, no questions asked

So don't expect to be a secret for very long

He's going to do whatever it takes to "catch" you

That way, the gifts and fun will never end!

You sort of dug yourself into a whole with this

But don't worry

He'll treat you just as sweetly

Brahms Heelshire

He doesn't react as badly as one might think right away

He just assumes the gifts are from his parents

But after receiving his first letter, he realizes this is more romantic in nature

And this is quite a dangerous game you're playing

Since he immediately becomes obsessed

He'll kindly play this game with you

He'll leave the doll near the main window, coaxing you to come take a deeper look

He'll start to leave the door unlocked or a window cracked open in hopes you'll be tempted to take a trip inside

But unfortunately, Brahms is as shallow as he is dangerous

If you are a beauty, he will gladly whisk you away into his home

But if you aren't what he pictured you to be, he will dispose of you

You've created this idealistic image in his mind, and he needs it to be perfect

Norman Bates

He probably reacts the most "normal" out of anyone else

He's surprised of course, but he happily takes the gifts and finds a little drawer at home to keep them

He likes to pull them out whenever he is feeling down

With how shy he is, he won't be the one to step up and try to confront you or figure out who you are

He kind of likes the mystery

Although, he does hope one of these times you will finally reveal who you are to him

If the gifts suddenly stop, Norman will become a lot more upset than he could have predicted

It can be so lonely where he is, and he finally thought maybe he was making an actual connection with someone

He may make a trip to the nearest town in order to people-watch for a while

He secretly hopes there will be some sign that will make you known to him, but that's clearly wishful thinking

Billy Loomis

He's flattered, don't get him wrong, but you are certainly not the first nor the last to admire him from afar

He's gotten several secret admirers in his day

I mean, look at him

He'll gladly take your gifts or letters with pride, but they'll likely get thrown in with all the other trinkets he's gathered over the years

If the gifts suddenly stop however, he'll act like it doesn't phase him at all

But he becomes curious on why you stopped

And this curiosity soon becomes obsession

Every killing he goes on, he'll raid the house, trying to find any sign on who his secret admirer is

Why would you stop? What's wrong with him?

The questions are enough to drive him insane

Stu Macher

Almost anyone can tell something has changed with Stu

He holds his head a little higher, smiles a little wider, and talks a little louder

He walks around school with his eyes peered, hoping that eye contact will be enough to figure out who his secret admirer is

But when he's not at school, he's making a list on any person he thinks it could be

He makes sure to convince Billy to hit those people's houses first during their "nights out"

He may even go as far as interrogating all of his victims, eventually killing them when he realizes they know nothing about his secret admirer

But he shakes this off quickly

He has full faith that he'll learn who you are

There's only so many houses in Woodsboro after all

Vincent Sinclair

He's honestly completely in awe at this situation

It had always been Bo who had the secret admirers

People have been fawning over his brother since they were younger, but now he's the one being sought after?

This can't be real

He does his best to keep all of this from his brothers

He's worried that them finding out will ruin the whole thing somehow

And he truly loves how it feels to be wanted

If the gifts stop at any point, he'll be devastated

He won't go as far as to seek you out

But he will certainly mourn you and your attention

He knew it was too good to be true

Bo Sinclair

Similar to Billy, this isn't his first rodeo

But unlike him, he's not as kind about the situation

Your gifts are disposed of as quickly as they are received

It's not that he isn't appreciative, it's just that he seeks confidence and hates games

If you're interested in him, then why not just step up and make a move in person?

If you're not willing to do that, then it's mostly a waste of his time

If the gifts keep coming, he'll eventually hit a point where he becomes annoyed

He'll break the gifts and trash them right outside the door, leaving them there in hopes you'll take the hint

And if you do, then he's satisfied

He doesn't need the attention because he knows he can get whoever he wishes

He doesn't have time for silly teenage games

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sluttyminghao · 8 months ago

Text

Seventeen x Phone Sex

95 line - 96 line - 97 line - 98+99 line

♡ word count: 955 ♡ genre: smut - 18+ only ♡ a/n: this is pretty self explanatory, but I'm writing some thoughts and mini drabbles about seventeen! I'm grouping them to make it easier to read, and I hope you'll enjoy them all! big shoutout to @bf-wonu and all of my friends at @svthub who helped me with ideas!

Seungcheol: he wants you just to relax and guide you through your orgasm, nothing too special. he’s going to still be a hard dom for sure, but i think since he’s not with you he’d be a little more relaxed and laid back. He would have a slightly gruff note to his voice; it only turns you on more and leaves you more willing to do as he says. “You’re being so good for me, baby, I bet you’re fingers aren’t as good as mine” he’d grunt out as his hand pumps away on his fat cock, imagining it’s your hand instead. The whimper that crosses through the phone line and hits his ear is enough to have his hand speeding up, a low growl emitting from his throat as he feels his orgasm near. The dirty talk that would omit from this man’s mouth would be genuinely insane, like when he’s with you he doesn't even dirty talk this much, so you’re not sure what the difference is when it’s in person vs over the phone. He would also want the both of you to cum at the same time, even if that means staving off his orgasm for a little bit just so that he can cum with you and imagine he’s cumming inside you. Even when you have cum and he has also, he wouldn't want you to stop until your moans turn into needy whines from overstimulation and only then, would he let you off the hook and let you fall into your mattress. After you’ve both finished off, he asks you if you’re okay and makes sure you clean yourself up (even though he wishes he could be the one to do it), and would even go as far as ordering you some takeout to have while he fills you in on his day, and asks you about yours. No matter where he is, whether he’s right next to you or on the other side of the world, the aftercare is still the most important part for him.

Jeonghan: With Jeonghan, you never know what kind of persona you’ll get when things start getting steamy over the phone. A good majority of the time, he’s going to be teasing you incessantly and taking you to heights you’ve never experienced. He’s the type to be extremely cocky over the phone when you start getting needy, and he would say the filthiest things to you that would bring anyone to their knees in an instant. He would jokingly tell you that you only call him when you're needy and it makes him feel like a cheap whore, but he loves helping you through an orgasm, even if he isn't with you physically. He always gives you very direct instructions as well, and I think he’d also want video and photo evidence, especially if you are in mid-orgasm or even when you’re making yourself feel so good, just so that he can get off to the image/video of you also. “Sweetheart, you look so pretty like this, can I get a full body shot of your body? God, you’re so hot, I can’t wait to get home later and fill you up and mark you as my own.” He’s going to just make you feel cheap and dirty but you can’t even say anything about it because you feel so good, and you know that when he gets home he’s just going to reiterate what he told you over the phone, and will make you cum over and over. While he has you on the phone, he would make you overstimulate yourself, just to hear the whimpers and whines from you, before telling you to stop and making you’re okay. If he was feeling particularly generous, he would order some food for you, or most of the time you’d just crash out after the mind-blowing orgasm and he’d arrange for food to be sent later.

Joshua: He would be so into this, I think he’d get so into it sometimes that he forgets he’s not in person with you and would turn over to go and fuck you, but realizes you’re not there but instead on the phone trying to catch your breath. He’s going to be the most gentle out of the 95 line, but still has a pinch of assertiveness and dominance to him that has your stomach tightening and your toes curling whenever he lowers his voice. It comes off as a mix of deep and husky, which will only further your want for him. He’s not going to tease you to the same extent as Jeonghan would, but he’s still going to tease the fuck out of you and make you beg for more, and beg to cum. He’s going to make you beg a lot actually, especially when you are on the verge of your orgasm. I think when he’s got you on the phone as well, he will talk you through basically the whole thing, right down to making you imagine what he would do to you if he was with you, and what he’s going to do when he gets home and can get his hands on you. There would be some times when he probably forgets he’s on the phone with you or ends up doing some other task like cooking food and would end up having to get you through another orgasm while he’s flipping pancakes or something along those lines. He’d be very sweet about it though, you know in that overly sweet and slightly cocky way, and would make up for his being away once he gets back, with his fingers and his cock, and also his filthy words and phrases.

#sm: masterlist 2024 #sluttyhao smut #sluttyhao reaction #kpop smut #kpop reaction #seventeen smut #seventeen reaction #seungcheol smut #jeonghan smut #joshua smut

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velvetures · 5 months ago

Note

Hello loves💕 I still can't get over your writing I'm obsessed!!

I would love to request Roommate König x fem reader. König hears you fucking some guy on the other side of the wall and he can tell you faked it so once the dude is gone he's got you over his shoulder and is walking you to his bedroom to fuck you right. I love the idea of her trying to get him to confess to her and trying anything after months or years of mutual pining, her last resort is to make him jealous.

Overheard

a/n: I'm so sorry for being so slow my love... I always have the worst self-confidence with nsfw reqs. I constantly write them, delete them, and start all over... (this is like... the 8th full-draft retry) So I hope you'll forgive me if this isn't up to standard. Also, I know this trope has been covered by some really talented writers and I hoped to do it justice, and not feel like a carbon copy of something better. (ps. This shit is too long... but I knew if I deleted anything, I'd delete the whole thing over again.)

tw's: 18+ ONLY, nameless hookup, alluded unprotected sex w/side character, unintentional orgasm denial, the reader is mentally not in the best place for sex (disconnected), voyeurism, jealously, fem-oral receiving, fem-fingering receiving, dirty talk, König being a bit of a loser, König omitting his lack of experience, aftercare.

His mom kept saying it was about time to settle down. That the biological clock, normally pushed on women, was ever-present and ticking against his favor. But his sweet, innocent, mother didn’t know the depth of his awkwardness. Not even the slightest idea that her well-mannered boy, turned praise-worthy Colonel was nothing but a bumbling fucking idiot when it came to speaking with women. In the field, sure. He could give orders, discuss tactics, and even bullshit with the best of the best… but if a woman was among those? Oh hell. It was like trying to talk to a brick wall with a randomly developed stuttering issue.

He didn’t understand where it came from either.

It wasn’t like his mother was one of the overbearing types that made dating impossible, and nor did he exactly have the worst time when he was younger with women being interested. It was just… after they showed interest, that became the struggle. Relaxing wasn’t possible. Not when he knew that a woman’s perception of him was far higher than that of any man. Believing that even the smallest of gestures and phrases could earn him an immediate dismissal, and his name or photo being sent in some group-chat to be berated after a first date. He didn’t blame any of the women though… he knew what he looked like. What he sounded like… and God, how miserable his personality was compared to what his career and position would lead others to assume.

A shred of truth could always be found in his mother’s warning though.

He’d gone years without any meaningful relationship where the softer, side of a woman could be found. He found bastardized ways of getting a taste, but he could only allocate so much money a month to porn sites and camgirls without feeling like a total sleaze. The Colonel felt much more confident mapping out a prospective warzone than the contours of a woman’s body, and fuck… it made him more than a little embarrassed to admit. Enough so, that when you mentioned that your rental agreement was coming to an end, and you were trying to find somewhere new to stay, he offered for you to just move in with him.

He owned. Which made the idea of ‘rent’ or you paying it almost unquestionably stupid. It made the deal a little sweeter -in his mind- for you to agree, and then he wouldn’t have to be quite so personally diligent on logging onto online portals to pay utilities. That is, if he could get you to move in. And while in his own mind and body, every synapse screamed that he was being unrealistic, you hadn’t caught on. He’d looked just as stoic and cold as ever when he propositioned that you just start moving over your things into his house. Save money… it’ll be easier for you; He’d said, hard eyes glancing over your face. You thought saying ‘yes’ was anxiety-inducing? König nearly passed out in his office after walking there on numb feet and weak knees.

In the week following, he brought you a small ring of keys, and you started moving your life into his, one cardboard box at a time. And every night after returning from his on-base duties, he would have to physically restrain himself from opening up the taped flaps and getting a peek at the unattended items sitting by the front door. At the time, he thought it was nothing more than unchecked curiosity and instinct to feel-out a new situation. Just simply wanting to learn more about you before you started sleeping over. Merely the soldier in him. But box, by box, that curiosity didn’t dampen down. Even when your items began making their way out of their containers and enmeshing with his around the house.

Tea cups in the kitchen cabinet next to his thicker, coffee mugs. Throw blankets rolled and stacked in the far corning of the couch he rarely sat on. A little rug you’d tossed down in the kitchen in front of the stove with a little floral print that he’d been utterly possessed to not get any stains on while cooking, or by taking off his boots before walking inside. And while never claiming to be a ‘minimalist’ man, he learned right away that his house was nothing short of a hotel when it came to personality.

You’d brought at least five full walls worth of decor. Little trinkets and cute things from all over the world you’d been sneaky enough to stuff into the pockets of your gear. And all of it, had initially been shoved into an empty linen closet he’d been perfect happy with you claiming as your own since it was ‘on your side of the house’. That was, until he found himself noticing that you’d put more than “storage” things away, and had silently refused to put them where they belonged.

On the damn walls.

“I don’t decorate well anyways..” It’d been his excuse… or at least something along those lines. Maybe a little bit more gruff. Guarded. Because even in his own home, he had the tendency of walking around like someone was going to sneak up behind him.

So one week, while he was away, you took the permission and ran with it. Buying the picture hanging kits, and everything else needed to begin covering the Colonel’s walls with your amassed collection of utterly unnecessary, but brain-scratching decorations, art, and collectable junk. Spending a good half hour walking around the halls and rooms with a little smile of accomplishment on your face seeing the colonel’s house feeling more like a home. Totally unaware that he’d been checking the security cameras dotted around, watching you scale a shitty stepladder, climb the kitchen cabinets, and struggle to lift the more heavy items. All the while, growing more and more intrigued with this new arrangement. Debating whether he liked it or not. Rapt attention making the instinctive suggestion that you’d make a good wife far less perverse than he should’ve felt it to be.

Missions took precedence though. And it kept both of you busy more than not. Fully living adjacent instead of in a more dependent role. But there were decidedly small decisions that needed to be made. Like who was in charge of buying groceries, and getting essentials that you both used. König ended up just leaving cash on the counter once a week so you could take care of his end for him. Saving the trouble of a second loaf of bread being bought, or doubling up on paper towels after a miscommunication lead to fifty rolls of the shit needing to be stored somewhere. You did the job more than credibly, and it got you out of the house too.

Which was good, because you rarely left.

Not unlike him, you preferred your time spent in calm situations. Either reading reports, answering emails, and other related tasks before just closing that tab on your laptop and opening up an new one to watch a show or scroll on your phone. You appeared to thrive in his house when you could curl up like some little bird in a nest and just rest. Developing almost permanently sleepy eyes when you came through the door, and a softer tone of voice that took some getting used to. König didn’t exactly understand it. Why your demeanor changed so much within the house, and how it got substantially much more noticeable when your schedules aligned for both of you to be there at the same time.

A solid seven months or more passed before he got his answer. And from your late-night scrolling nonetheless.

Some woman, blabbering on about her husband, and all of the ways that he effected her life once she moved in with him. And, honestly, König wasn’t listening all that much. Having just begun sitting on the other end of the couch with you, since it was where you spent your evenings after dinner. And, it’d become a little bit of a new experience. Just being halfway close to you. Interacting, but not. A safe way to enjoy your presence without any expectations. But that woman on your phone caught his attention when she made the joke about being tired all the time. Tired. Sleepy. All the fucking time. He had to stare down at the TV to keep his head from snapping in your direction.

Apparently it was chemical. Some little thing in the back of a woman’s mind that men didn’t have the complexity to experience the same way. That this woman -and you- were so mentally focused for such a long time, that when the right person was around you, and created a safe space, it acted like a the strongest sleeping pill in existence. Flooding you with dopamine and melatonin to the point that your pretty face got even sweeter with those deep, sleepy looks and constant yawns at all times of the day. Getting a glimpse of you tapping the screen twice, and then tapping at your keyboard to leave a comment only reinforced his inquisitiveness. From the moving boxes, to watching you on cameras while away… and now realizing that you acted so sweet and docile around the house because of him..? He didn’t know how to control himself, and still find a way to keep figuring you out.

Wanting more…

Needing a chance to find out if things could go further than just living in his house.

Dating wasn’t a walk in the park for you either. Call it a hazard of military work. Computers and filing paperwork was more your speed than the guns and blood that König was accustomed to, but it still limited the amount of men who were interested. Especially in the long-term.

It really came down to the uniform and lack of free time that could be allotted to the guys that you did have the fortune to meet. They wanted to take you on dates, and your superiors preferred you stay late to take minutes for a meeting. They always suggested you take a vacation, since it was clear just how tired you were on a daily basis. But vacations were practically a laughable dream you knew wouldn’t come to fruition until you finally were sent the retirement packet everyone in the service dreamed of. But.. on the rare occasion, you did have the energy to entertain a man for a night. Just. One. Night.

Thankfully König was out.

Such good timing considering you’d spent nearly a week, taking your sweet time to wring orgasms out of yourself just for the sheer frustration of getting them, and still not feeling satisfied. Instinctively missing the warmth of skin on skin and the dynamic of having someone else provide and take pleasure from you. Even getting on the app had felt more like a shopping trip than a chance to go on a date. Looking through photos and bios with nothing more on your mind than someone big enough, and pretty enough to make the ordeal worth it. The guy who answered back to your painfully blatant request for a good fuck, didn’t ask any questions either. Just asked politely asked if you wanted to go to him, or vice versa and gave you ample time to get yourself ready before the knock on the front door.

Your mental ruined any chance of having a good time though.

The poor guy sucking at your neck and grunting soft praises was nice… but you couldn’t get into it. Feeling tense. Going through the motions. Foreplay becoming an act of forced moans to reassure the guy genuinely trying to make you feel good, and unable to even make eye contact for a slightly guilty feeling that pervaded your thoughts. Hell, you even refused to have missionary, just to make sure that your facial expressions didn’t have to constantly match the fake whimpers and whines.

John… Joe… Jacob… whatever his name was, he was honestly a sweet guy. Giving your clit attention, no just shoving his cock in you without prep, and actively checking in without making it overbearing. On another day, you’d have really been trying harder to impress him. Give the impression that you were interested in him for more than the sex you couldn’t surrender to. Hope that he liked you enough to stick around. But deep down, you thought better of it. Withholding your feelings to ensure that when he left you alone for the night, that you wouldn’t hate yourself.

König, on the other hand, came home a bit earlier than expected. Walking in the door quietly to expect a silent house, and you sleeping in your bed or on the couch after waiting up for him. Only to be stunned with wet, skin slapping and familiar, pathetic, whimpers getting overrun by deep grunts and low, almost whispered sounds from a man.

God… you were getting fucked.

His whole chest tightened in embarrassment and his face felt hot. You’d never been quite this comfortable… at least to his knowledge. Plenty of nights he had overheard the faint sounds of you getting off alone… soft little moans and gentle hums of a vibrator filtering down the hallway to him. But he’d never heard anything quite that… loud. Even when you fucked yourself on a dildo -he’d always been too curious not to listen intently- the slick sounds of your cunt always made louder noise than your voice. As mortified as he was hearing it… part of him knew something was wrong. Like his whole body was stiff, realizing that you weren’t enjoying it. Faking it… for some unknown reason.

Why couldn’t you say something? Surely you could ask him to… to do something different right? To let you use a toy? Or… or touch your clit? Whatever it took to help you enjoy yourself. But those pinched, almost broken moans starting grating on him within seconds. Stalking towards your bedroom door quietly, and leaning against the wall. Eyes closed and his breath getting heavier with each imagined scene in his head that developed. Picturing him doing all the wrong things… Touching you… tasting you… and living out his own pleasure without the slightest idea that every sound out of your mouth was a fucking lie.

König’s jaw clenched. Resisting a sudden desire to bang on the door or make some other loud noise that would bring this all to an end. Even his fist clenched at his side flinched towards the bedroom door, as if he was insane enough to actually bust in.

What would he even do?

The question rang out a bit too harshly in his mind.

He didn’t have the first idea how to… do better. To make you feel good, or any woman really. Plenty of jealousy rose in his throat at the thought of that bastard fucking you, but he hadn’t even touched a pussy in years. And the last time he did it, he was, pathetically inexperienced. Using his huge fingers to try and prep his partner, but not hitting any of the right spots. Accidentally taking a clinical approach, and it left him feeling like a damn gynecologist instead of a good fuck.

He couldn’t please you, no matter how much he wanted to…

The sobering thought forced him to back away from your bedroom door. But pride alone forced him into the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a glass of scotch in his hand. The last -and unavoidable- line of defense before the front door. No doubt in his mind that if nothing else, he’d get a good look at the man you’d brought home for a disappointing night of sex. Wanting to at least humiliate the bastard for a few seconds. Because while he knew himself to not be an acceptable partner, the guy currently riding out his high in your bedroom wasn’t going to know it. And seeing him -in his daily fatigues- and his hood, would give any man a moment of pause.

You felt sticky. Hot. And more than a little achy in all the wrong ways as Jeff… Josh… whoever the fuck he was, removed himself form your bed and began pulling on his jeans. Watching cautiously as he excused himself into your bathroom -sweetly- offering you a wet washcloth and a too-shy smile for a man who’d just come all over your stomach.

You didn’t bother putting on pants to walk him out to the front door. Too disappointed and stuck in your own head to see König standing in the corner of the kitchen. His dark eyes glaring daggers at your… ‘guest’ who was much more observant, and stood stock still. Shirt in his hands, and forced to raise his gaze more than normal to get the best look at the terrifying man looming in the shadows. It took you far longer than it should’ve. To trace Jonah… Josiah’s… gaze, and recognize your roommate. And even longer to remember that you weren’t wearing pants.

“Hey man…”

You had to give what’s-his-name credit for being as casual as he sounded. Because in all honesty, you were just as taken aback. Shuffling to stand behind the guy just enough that your bare pussy and ass weren’t totally out for him to see.

“Evening…” König sounded… bored? Not his normal tone. “Heading out already?” The guy you were using as a shield, just nodded his head. Looking a bit apologetic, but still anxious.

“Yeah, man…” He pulled his head over his shirt, patting his pockets for the jingle of car keys before glancing back at you with an truly apologetic smile, and a clear unpreparedness for the situation. “I… uh…. thanks for… letting me come over…”

You can’t manage more than a nod. No smile, no reassuring touch to him… nothing. Just a silent acknowledgment and the subsequent scamper over to the couch to grab a blanket to cover yourself up.

Shit… König fucking waved bye…

He didn’t expect you to come out. Nor to get his first-ever look at your pussy. And god it’d taken a lot of restraint not to just stare at you and memorize what he could get get a look at. You just looked soft. So fucking small and soft… A slight sheen of sweat on your face and the roots of your hair damp from the erotic affair.

Too bad it was all an act.

“Thanks for letting him come, huh?” He can’t resist… the guy just hadn’t been cautious enough to not fuel the fire of jealously in him.

Seeing you wrap that blanket around you tighter, avoiding all eye contact, and even turning your side to him a bit… it makes him smile under his hood. An amused one. A sickeningly happy sort of feeling rising in his gut where you appear vulnerable under his gaze. You’re already much more expressive just talking to him than you’d sounded with that bastards cock inside you.

“Didn’t think you’d be back for a while…” Your valid excuse falls a bit flat, especially when those dark brown eyes scan your entire body. He lifts his tumbler of scotch under his hood, nodding before taking a long drink. Feeling a secondary burn that soothes the heat building everywhere else in him.

“I can see that…” He chuckles lowly. To him, it sounds unsure… and maybe tinged with anger, jealously. But on your face, he’s clear that you don’t recognize it. Far too embarrassed to see that there’s just as much uncertainty flooding him as well. “Could hear it too…”

He literally sees your shoulders sink. The wave of embarrassment. Part of him loves it. Knowing you’re experiencing some of the same things he is. That you to, know what it’s like to leave a bed feeling like things didn’t go right, and there’s a guilt that hardens like sediment in your gut. Yet the other half, resists pushing harder. Using this same, defensive, and chastising tone. To give you just a bit of respite, because, he’s not really mad… he’s just fuming with jealously.

“If I knew… I wouldn’t have…” You can’t manage much more. Both of you knowing damn well this wouldn’t have happened if you knew what his arrival was going to be. You always kept so good to his schedules… and not just because this was his house. But because you were so genuinely sweet around him.

“Been so loud?” He suggests, downing the last gulp of his scotch and pushing away from the counter. “Speaking of that…” His gaze lingers on your throat… those faked moans echoing in his mind.

“I didn’t know it was common practice for women to walk their fucktoys to the door… especially when he doesn’t make you come.”

If your stomach was twisting before, there wasn’t a doubt now. And god… you couldn’t tell if it was that he was home, or his voice, or just the edged-feeling of your aching pussy; but König was making you squirm. More than he’d ever done before… and you’d gotten yourself off to the thought of him plenty of times before when no other fantasy had done the trick.

“I finished.” You defend, tightening the blanket around your waist and tucking your bare feet under the excess material pooling on the floor.

König’s eyes blacken, and he laughs lowly. It’s the closest you’ve seen to his behavior when he’s interrogating someone. His power of knowing all the right answers and just dangling the freedom to lie right in front of your face. Maddening, to say the least. And enough to make your thighs flex together.

“I’d like to believe you…” he begins, making leisurely steps closer. “Yet, I’ve spent more nights than I care to admit hearing you come… and what I just hear… is nothing close to the real thing.”

“It’s different with—when it’s not just me.” You gape at him, trying to find anger at the audacity.

Searching for something other than a feeling of arousal knowing that despite your muffled cries into pillows, he’d still heard you at night. Still listened, and if nothing else, knew what your true pleasure sounded like to call you on bullshit. He shrugs, massive hands resting on his hips. Watching them sway a little as he keeps getting closer. Testing the boundary lines you no doubt had. Pushing and prodding at weak spots, and wondering if he can set foot on the living room rug you stood at the center of.

“Different, huh?” The fake acceptance doesn’t last long. “So if I asked for proof… you’d have it?”

“Proof?” You choke out. “What kind of proof could I even give you?” There are plenty running around in your head, all of them raunchier than the previous. But you’re almost desperate to hear him say it.

“Sweetheart, you’ve got the wettest fucking cunt I’ve ever heard,” He growls softly. “You never finish yourself off without making the slickest goddamn noises. Can hear it from down the hallway like it’s playing off my phone.” He adds, voice getting gritty, eyes lowering towards your hips and back up.

“Show me, that is… if he really did make you come.”

Air in your lungs evaporates. God it’s criminal how fucking lewd anything could sound coming from his mouth. And your dry pussy is pathetically getting wetter by the second. Fluttering muscles twitching with each filthy admission he makes. You’re already resorting to putting pressure against your clit by flexing your legs, trying to deny the feelings. Excusing it all by the still-lingering desire for release and not König. Not moving, and a miserable lack of a response forces him to approach faster. Stepping onto the rug serving as a mental barrier for you.

“Embarrassed?” He asks, head tilting a little and stretching the hood to pull away from his chest a little. Putting a bit more of his chest on display in that tight t-shirt.

You shake your head defiantly.

“Oh? Okay then… you should be able to show me then, right? Pretty girl like you, wanting to get fucked… Should be more than willing to brag that you got satisfied. That he left you satiated…”

Your face burns. Debating how to answer. If it’s even smart to try and test your voice in the first place.

“Nothing to see… got-got cleaned up…” God the miserable truth that your no-name partner’s cum was the only thing needing cleaned off of you hits like a punch to the gut.

A massive hand grabs at the blanket in your grip stops all possibility of lying anymore. A warning. Gentle, for sure and meant to be just a small test of consent. However, you too far into this to not want more. He’s just hitting all the right buttons, whether he means to or not.

“How about I… check for myself?” He asks lowly, free hand -covered in a glove- sliding up under his hood and returning into sight with the achingly sexy sight of a huge, scarred hand. His meaning isn’t lost on you, and it’s almost like your cunt floods in anticipation.

“Slide my hand between your pretty thighs, and see just how good he treated you…” He murmurs, trailing fingers down the two sides of the blanket pulled together. “Let me see if that pussy is fucking drenched like she deserves to be.”

“König.” You warn softly, eyes darting down to his hand and back to his eyes.

Not the slightest bit worried about him touching you. Not at all. But about what would happen after all the tension faded. What would come of your relationship if you fucked… or, just made things complicated in general.And he pauses, looking to you a bit cooler. His breathing still heavy, and laden with emotion.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

You’re desperate to think of a way to explain yourself, but the most basic, stupid, comment comes out of your mouth.

“I don’t want this to end badly.”

He straightens just a bit. But his hands don’t move. And while from your perspective, it seems he’s hesitating on whether or not to continue, that’s not what’s got him stuck mere inches away from slipping his fingers between your folds.

He’s worried you know. That you’ve caught on to his inexperience, and are merely defending yourself from a second bad experience in one night. And god it makes this throat burn. Desperate to defend himself and prove that while -yes- he’s more than a little bit lost when it comes to the manual process, he’s still going to be the most teachable fucking man you’ve ever met.

“I’ll listen so well…” He eventually mutters, stepping just a bit closer. Voice lowering and a hint of desperation entering it. “Can—can give you everything you want… Just need to tell me…” he adds, unable to look you in the eyes.

It’s not exactly what you were expecting to hear, but it still strokes that burn between your thighs. Especially when his hands grip your hips through the blanket wrapped around you. Groping softly, massaging at the fat over your muscles and feeling hungry just to touch you.

“I… I don’t want things to be awkward afterwards.” You try to reexplain. Hoping the clarification will help him see why you hadn’t already leaned into his commanding touch.

“Awkward,” he repeats, as if it’s a foreign idea. Like it’d never crossed his mind. “Don’t plan on ignoring you anymore… Not—Not after hearing that… and knowing… fuck…”

“He couldn’t have listened… please tell me you tried to tell him what to do… what you wanted,” His rambles get more panicked. Like every thought in his head is equally important and he can’t take the time to pick one and let me even answer. “Should’ve asked what your pussy needed… how to make you feel good… make those pretty sounds..”

You’re half dazed just watching his breathy words fan the material of his hood to react to his boot kicking your feet apart. Wide hand sliding between your thighs and groaning. A deep, guttural sound that reminds of him being winded. And really… he probably should be. Because your inner thighs are dry to the touch. The wetness he’d been creating still not enough to make much fuss over. But he’s not satisfied with that alone. Immediately curling a finger to spread your lips, feeling the thick, slick of new arousal that had been nothing, if not his doing.

“Ohh, you poor baby…” He sighs lowly, head rolling back at the mere sensation of your pussy under his fingertips. Feeling you a bit anxiously, yet getting a buzz in the back of his skull when your hole pulses against his prodding touch. “Left you so fucking hot…”

It’s a fast movement but he’s got you off your feet and dropped down onto the couch in one swift move. Your back arched in the slumped position and the blanket that’d been covering your -pathetic- modesty, fluttered open on both sides of your hips. Leaving your core exposed to his hungry and heavy-lidded eyes. Letting out a little whine of a sound when he slowly drops to a knee; tracing his hands down your inner thighs like he was scared of touching you too harshly.

“König, please…” You gasp out, watching his thumb run over your swollen labias. Pinching your fat lips together softly and inadvertently putting delicious pressure on your swollen clit. He curses under his breath, free hand grabbing your thigh with bruising strength.

“Tell me how to please you,” He commands, eyes flashing dangerously wide in the icy moonlight streaming through the living room windows. “I need to make you come.”

His desperate, and knows you can see it. His whole body shakes seeing your flushed pussy a mere foot away from his face, and nothing but opportunity and his hood preventing him from burying his face in it. Watching as you shyly reach for his wrist, guiding his hand where you want it. Extending his fingers and whimpering when your motion for him to rub small circles over your clit sends those to-intense waves of pleasure through your pussy.

“Like that… just like that…” You’re able to praise with a shaky nod of your head.

Rocking your hips in tandem with his movements and nearly crying out in relief when he diligently keeps the same pressure to you despite your little twitches and grinds. Allowing you the freedom to plant your feet on the edge of the couch and simply feel. König’s lost in it. Lost in the sight of you. Your pretty mouth gaping open and your hips chasing the touch he’s providing. His breath catching when you cry out or give a weak praise for his work. Like you’re enjoyingwhat he’s doing.

But god he’s happy to stay right where you want him, how you want him. Feeling his knee dig into the harsh floorboards, and ignoring it with a refreshed feeling of duty he’d long lost as a soldier. Never had he been given such a pretty fucking prize to work for. Nothing as sweet as seeing your cunt drip from his rough fingers rubbing soft, almost too-soft circles over it. Not even realizing that he’d spent almost fifteen minutes just rubbing your clit lazily when your hand reaches back down. Happy to direct him yet again, especially when he doesn’t even need a verbal direction to do exactly what you want.

“Fingers,” You whisper through panting exhales. “Give me your fingers…”

Your little hand grabs his pointer and middle fingers, spreading your own slick over them like a goddamn professional before guiding him down to your aching hole. Letting go just long enough to feel the thick digits press though that first little ring of tightened muscle. Forcing your eyes open to witness his mostly-hidden expression as he sinks knuckle deep inside of you.

“So fucking pretty,” His head shakes a little, lost in the creamy slick gathering at the base of his fingers as he curls him up towards your pelvis just a little. Subconsciously scared to do the wrong thing, but desperate to keep your cunt flex and mold to his touch. “Tell me, sweetheart… show me what she needs.”

You’re too possessed to chase your high to not listen. Readjusting your bent legs on the couch to gently lift your hips and sink them back down. Slowly getting used to the feeling of his thick fingers, already deeper than your no-name partner. Groaning when they bump into your g-spot just hard enough to make your clit burn. Grinding against his hand and keeping one hand wrapped around his wrist just to try and ground yourself to the present situation. Lost in the rhythm of fucking yourself -quite literally- stupid within mere minutes. Beginning to hear that vulgar, sucking sound of your pussy gripping his fingers and utterly drooling over his palms.

König’s helpless to so more than sing your praise. “That’s a good girl… so good for me. Using me like a fucking toy.”

It’s the best he’s felt in a long time. Watching you take from him. Too absorbed to even think about anything other than yourself. Not in enough control to even worry about the true moans and yelps escaping you. Real pleasure wracking your body and burning every nerve ending.

“More… please more…” You cry softly, hips slowing to a painfully sexy grind as you squeeze the tendons in his wrist with your thumb.

König takes a little more initiative than he’s normally comfortably using, but adds a third finger. Slowly pumping them in and out, little by little, to help you adjust. Watching as your eyebrows pinch together in focus. A low growl rumbles in his chest, his mouth practically watering as your cunt sucks him in.

“Let me taste it, baby…” He huffs, head flinching forwards before backing off, repeating the action a couple more times. “Wanna help… just—just let me taste you…”

You clench around his fingers when he rests his cheek against your inner thigh. Big, wide eyes pleading with you so innocently like he isn’t stretching your hole wider than the biggest of your toys can with nothing but a few fingers. Forcing you to slow the roll of your hips, a shaky hand reaching out to cup his face through the mask. Rubbing a thumb over his hidden cheekbone with a little whimpered hum. Pulling his head closer to you, hissing when the hem of his hood merely grazes your clit.

“How’d you want it?” He asks, head down and pulling his mask up so you’re stuck. Forced to merely feel his mouth so close to you, and not see the shape of his mouth.

“Lick-lick my clit… s-soft…” You whine, eye shutting when the hot fan of his exhale his your fevered skin.

Holding his head steady with one hand, you almost coming up off the couch when his tongue makes one, long, lazy, lap between your folds. Gripping at the material of his hood just tight enough that he ends up ripping the whole thing off. Tossing it to the floor with an aggressive snarl that rumbles against your clit. Sparks of pleasure forcing your thighs apart and jerking your hips back up. Chasing his mouth. The rough texture of his tongue, and the slight graze of his teeth against your slicked folds.

Your orgasm approaches fast from there. Between his fingertips stroking you deep, and the new rhythm of his tongue lapping your slick up to massage your clit, it’s hard to even warn König that he can’t stop for risk of ruining your long-awaited release.

“König… K… oh… fuucckk…”

Your back arches tightly, both hands grabbing harshly at his hair with an unintelligible shout as you come. Jerking wildly and one of your feet losing it’s hold on the edge of the couch. Trying to fight through the shocks of pleasure, and groaning curses with a hoarse throat. Feeling König’s free hand latch onto your thigh to keep you from running away too far from his still-working lips and tongue. Sucking up the wet drips of release trying to drip down his hand.

“Slow, slow down.” You whimper, pushing at his forehead just a little. The pressure too much. The stretch of his fingers still satisfying but overstimulating.

Your so fucking grateful that he doesn’t fight you on it, or force you to try for another. And maybe it’s just the mere sight of you. abdominal muscles twitching, forcing your upper body to do baby-curls with each flex of your pulsing cunt. Toes curled and an all-over buzzing sensation making it hard to even make sense of where your limbs are in relation to the rest of your body, much less König or the couch your hardly laying on.

“You okay, sweetheart?” His softened voice almost gives you emotional whiplash, especially when he bends over you forehead resting against yours softly.

Gently removing his fingers with murmured apologies when your little winces mar your pretty features. Both hands sliding up your sides to help lift you back onto the couch, moving to sit himself next to you just long enough to reposition your body on his lap. Pulling that blanket back over your bottom half and maneuvering your cold, tingling feet between his thighs like he can tell they’re freezing. He presses soft kisses all over your forehead and nose. Rocking you softly and squeezing at the muscles in the back of your neck reassuringly.

“You needed that… needed to feel good…” he murmurs almost lovingly.

You nod dumbly, laying your head against his shoulder. Letting out soft nearly unconscious whimpers and a soft repetition of his name in cum-drunk appreciation.

“Told you I could listen… could be good for you,” He adds, almost like he’s reassuring himself of the idea. “Wanted to be better than him. Needed to prove it.”

He holds up your weighty head, stabilizing it with care and a sickeningly sweet look of devotion in his eyes.

“You’re never going to fake it again, sweetheart.”

reblogs & comments are always appreciated <3

#könig #könig x reader #kortac #konig mw2 #konig cod #anon ask #anon answered #anon <3 #velvetures #velvetures writes #anon request #könig smut #cod #cod mwii #velvetures answers

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unluckilyimnot · 3 months ago

Note

can u do the "i like you I said I like you" thing with any random blue lock boy if u don't know it just search it up and it will be there it's pretty cute and when you do or u already know can u make like a big misunderstanding and it's a happy ending ty!

I like you - rin, yoichi, hiori

– In which the popular kid (you) asks them out and they can't believe it.

Note: I hope I find the right thing 😭 rin is longer bc i missed the happy ending part at first. reader really doesn't take 'no' for an answer. mia 🤝 writting only with her favs

m.list | rules

Rin isn't the type to make friends in the first place, so when he found a note on his desk asking him to meet up with an anonymous person his first reflexes was to put it in the trash. He had better things to do than to talk to someone he doesn't even know.

He never expected this note to be from you, his pretty seatmate that, surprisingly, liked to work on a few projects with him. Everyone has a crush on him, but only a few can actually manage his personality.

But here you were, hands on his desk before he could take his remaining papers before leaving for practice. He glared up at you to realize you were frowning at him too, obviously upset. Yet you weren't saying anything, stealing glances around to see if people would actually leave one day.

"You're waiting for a deluge of what ?!" You yelled at the duo whispering behind him and he heard them running out in a second

"What's your problem?" He asked about your behavior.

"What is your problem! You never came yesterday," you argued, cheeks flush red and he can't tell if it's from embarrassment or anger. "I've waited for a while you jerk."

"You should've signed then." He added while looking away from the small pour on your face, trying to pull away his papers beneath your hand. "Now I have to go so be quick."

Lifting your hand so he can organize his bag, you didn't wait for him to finish before talking.

"I like you." You said, a lower voice, less confident ; a voice that sounded nothing like yours. He scoffed at your face, getting up and putting his bag on his shoulder. As if someone like you could actually have feelings for him, ridiculous.

"I don't have time for your joke. Get lost." Without caring to look back at you, he left the classroom with a bothered face. It's not that he didn't like you, but everything sounded fake. Despite himself, he doesn't want to be the joke of your stupid friends' group.

"Wait Rin !" Your voice followed by footsteps suddenly sends shivers down his back. Couldn't you just leave him alone ?

But your hand grabbed his wrist in a hurry to try and stop him in his tracks. You couldn't bring yourself to look at him, already trying to hide the emotion in your voice.

"I wasn't kidding ! I really do – "

A million thoughts pass by his silly little brain in a second but he sadly didn't have time for this right now. Or he didn't want to think about it at all.

"If you do then let me go." He sounds sharp and uncaring but his heart is weak when you let go of him with a pitiful try to hide the disappointment written on your face. Yet the only thing he does is run away from you, already late for his schedule.

"We'll talk later."

He sent it out of guilt before starting, not liking how he left you like this. Yet the notification of his message fell in deaf ears as you were already crying, hiding yourself in the bathroom.

After crying your emotions out you still went and checked your face after – bad idea. Your eyes are red, cheeks flushed and you can't get rid off the mascara that fell below your eyes. Great.

You sighed, getting yourself together before leaving the building to go home. You've seen his message but honestly you don't think you'll ever have the strength to face him now. Ever. Tears are always on the verge of falling from your eyes and you’ve never felt this shitty in your life. It was the worst day ever ! And your friends would tell you "I told you so." . You hated it.

Yet, without meaning to, you still passed by the football field and saw Rin was still there training, all sweaty and panting as he scored yet another goal. As you ponder if you should stop by and wait for him, since he told you you’ll talk later, you stopped in your tracks right in front of the tribune. From where you stand, you staying or not wouldn’t probably change a thing to your situation. No-one’s waiting for you and you certainly don’t wanna see your friends at that moment. So you decided to stop and take a seat in the front row, gazing at him as your head lay on your arms.

It doesn’t take long for him to notice you, you can tell and even if you didn’t expect much from him, he stopped and slowly made his way to you.

He feels like an asshole, for once in his life. It’s like he really did something bad that he regrets.

“You’re going to catch a cold.” was all he could think about to break the heavy silence between you two. He doesn’t expect much either, knowing well that you might be upset.

“It’s summer’s end though, it’s still hot…” you answered, muffled in your arms. He was right, the light breeze past nine was in fact colder than you thought but you never wanted to admit that. But you weren’t dumb, you knew he'd notice the goosebumps on your arms.

Soon his jacket fell on your shoulders, making you blink a few times in a vain attempt to process what happened.

“Take this and go home. Don’t forget it tomorrow.” he finally said before leaving you behind, flustered but with a small smile on your lips. At least he cared more than he looked like.

Putting it on properly, you took your bag and made your way to the exit, following his words – he made sure for you not to get cold, you could at least listen. You expected it to smell like him or some strong cologne he might wear, but instead it simply smells like detergent. And for some reason, it comforted you even more.

It was a good idea to stop by.

Hiori never was on the popular side, even if he was a good football player for his two years of high school, he never compared to some of his teammates that got way too much attention for their well being. Not that he ever minded, it was just like this. He prefers his routine to stick to what it is, meeting with his small group of friends, talk about games then go back to his training. It can be boring, but it was simply his life.

Or it was before you came into his life out of nowhere during his last year. You’ve always been in his class but for some reason you two never talked before, he knew your name and that’s it. Until you started to come see him play and encourage him with everything you’ve got.

After that, it seems like you’ve never missed a game and always come to see him at the end of it to tell him how well he played and then proceed to talk with him. It was nothing particularly weird, anybody can start to like football at some point and tell themselves that it’s never too late to befriend someone – beside the fact that you were the prettiest person he had seen.

For some reason, all this happening out of nowhere seems way too suspicious but he never mentioned it to you and was still happy to talk to you and learn more about your interests. He was really awkward at first but as the days went by, turning into months and you never stopped being nice to him, he thought he may have had the wrong idea. Until that day.

“I like you,” you mumbled to him after catching his sleeve before he could leave. Time stopped and your words were echoing in his head endlessly – he couldn't come up with an answer. His mind went blank and all he could do was stare at your feet, trying to ground himself. But you pull on his sleeve once again, right when he feels able to answer.

“Come on, don’t ignore me when I just said that…” He can see you chewing on the inside of your cheek and a disbelief scoffed escaped his mouth.

“Look, I know but it’s just not funny,” he answered lightly but he couldn’t look into your eyes or else he would’ve cried. Saying he didn’t develop a crush on you would be a lie, but he knew it was one sided and was fine with it. But you joking about it wasn’t funny.

“What– No ! I’m not kidding Hiori, listen–”

“I’m sure your friends are laughing a lot but you really should stop now…” he cut you out before you could explain yourself and it felt like it was now or never. You took a step closer to him who was still avoiding your gaze and left a peck on his cheek, close enough to the corner of his lips for him to realize you weren’t lying. His cheeks heat up at your move and he backs down quickly, taking a few steps away from you.

You were the awkward one now, looking away from him. You didn’t want to seem too much of a push over so you nodded to yourself before.

“Just because you don’t like me back doesn’t mean you have to say I’m joking. With that,” you added before waving at him awkwardly and were about to leave but this time it was Hiori who stopped you. Leaving a quick peck on your lips, he smiled shyly at you who was now a blushing mess – trying to hide your face away but with nowhere to do so.

“It just feels weird, because you’re the pretty one you know.” he giggled. “But I like you too.”

When Yoichi discovered the letter in his locker this morning, his heart stopped. It seemed normal from the outside – and thank god for that – but the inside contained words about how the person felt for him but he felt like dying. Nobody ever confessed to him, even less with a letter.

Nothing helped that he knew who it was. It wasn’t as anonymous as he wished it was, it’s always like this in the movie. He looked like his soul left his body, making his friends worry – even more when he never wanted to mention what was up. He couldn't just tell them, they'd ask to read it and he didn't want them to know who it was. While being asked a thousand questions about it, he secretly glanced your way, a blush on his cheeks.

You were looking their way, not catching his eyes but with a knowing smile on your lips and he prays for them not to look away from him. He needed to talk this through with you, even if he didn't want to.

You squeal when your arm is suddenly pulled to the opposite side. Yoichi shushed you down, panicked at the idea of you screaming all of sudden. You blinked a few times, flustered at the sudden proximity. He was only a few centimeters away, looking around to be sure nobody would come and annoyed you and your heart had a hard time following.

Out of nowhere, he took out the letter from his pocket and almost shoveled it into your face.

“What is this ?” he whispered as if everyone around was listening to him, making you giggle.

“A love letter ?” you said, trying to hide your trembling voice. You never expected him to face you like this, he was the kind you can easily forget and yet he was bold enough to ask you straight about it. It charmed you even more at first.

“Yeah I can tell,” he scoffed. “But that's not funny ok. Get it back and leave me alone.”

The small shadow of a smile fell from your face in a second, horror rushing in your body when he gave you the letter back – more like pushing it in your hands – before leaving the other way. You have to compose yourself a second before gripping on the letter and run after him.

Stepping out of the corner he pulled you, you rushed after him before tugging on his sleeve. Once again, your letter flew away from your hand right to his face.

“I just told you I liked you ! You could at least keep it even if you don’t feel the same !” you yelled in the middle of the highway, people were sending Yoichi weird looks and he couldn’t control the blush on his cheeks. On the other hand, you never felt so dumb in your entire life. It wasn’t because he seems the most normal boy that he would like you back, not when he didn’t know anything about you, yet you really hoped he would at least treat it well.

“I thought you were joking !” he yelled back, not sure what to believe anymore. “you can whoever you want… why me ?” he subtly asked, not daring to look you in the eyes.

“Why not,” you argue with a pour on your lips. “You’re cute, that’s it. You’re caring with your friends and your mom – I overheard you on the phone once.” your ramble started to get a bit creepy, so instead you got close to him and bump into his shoulder. “Even if you don’t like me yet, we could at least, I don’t know, hang out from time to time.”

A sweet smile formed on his lips. “I’d love to.”

let me know if you liked it !

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lostinmycolor · 10 months ago

Text

"darling," he whispers, ever so softly, the rasp in his voice reverberating through you and making you shiver. he chuckles silently at the little squeaks that leave your lips whenever your hips slam down on his cock as you look down at him with those pretty eyes of yours. for some reason, whenever he looks into them, they remind him of the stars he was so close to once upon a time. something that should be a bad memory but really isn't because you make it more nostalgic, in some kind of mysterious way. you almost make him miss it.

your hands are gripping onto his shoulders for dear life, nails digging into his skin in a way that should be painful, but instead just makes everything feel ten times better. he has a hand on your hip, gripping it firmly, his fingers forming slight dents in your skin. his free hand is wandering over your body, moving up from your clit to your tits, pinching your sensitive buds. he swears he's falling even more in love with you when you toss your head back and let out a long whine of pleasure when he does so. you look so beautiful.

how are you even real? he wonders. he's never had eyes for anyone the way he has eyes for you. he's seen and experienced so many beautiful things, explored so many different worlds in his dreams, in his past lives, but none of them compare to you. anything in any universe that is considered beautiful is nothing when it comes to you.

the way you moan his name is like the strings that play in his mind when he's feeling the rush of his highs, but somehow you're always able to make them sound like a beautiful symphony instead of just a jumble of noise like it used to be, before you. he wonders what type of magic you hold inside of you that makes you capable of making even the ugliest and most broken of things look so beautiful. he notices your legs are giving up on you and smiles at how endearing it is, the fact that you're practically struggling, but you need him so badly you're doing everything you can to keep up your movements. his hand grips your hip tighter, almost enough to bruise your skin, and he moves his free hand to your lower back to help you keep your balance.

he wonders, for a moment, if he knew you in the past life, or all those years ago. he can't really remember since it's been so long, and the memories of when he was cast out of heaven clouded his brain. but it's almost as if he can see for a brief second, something otherworldly when he looks at you, the way your skin glows with splendor when your back arches as you cum on his cock. for a moment it's like you're a real life angel right in front of him, it's such a sight to behold. was god testing him? were you sent to him as a lesson in disguise? would you be gone as soon as this was all over? whatever it was, he didn't care, as long as he got to feel you as close as possible even if you turned out to not be real when he opened his eyes again.

it's almost a relief when he does and he sees you there, still on top of him, panting heavily, eyes hooded, hair sticking to your face. a beautiful mess. the most gorgeous thing he's ever seen. he's so in love with you. he reaches up to brush your hair off of your damp cheeks, smiling and delicately taking your chin to make you look at him, his thumb brushing over your lower lip, the way you lean down to kiss him and smile against his lips making everything feel a little more real.

more real and alive, he thinks. he's never felt more alive than when he sees you like this—beautiful and wild and messy in all the right ways, all for him, because of him. there was nothing better than being able to love you in such a pure way, without repercussion, no matter how terrifying it was, because you remind him of himself before everything. before the jealousy and fury, before he fell from heaven and got his wings stripped from his back, before he was disowned by god himself. the fallen angel was redeemed from the depths of hell and found his heaven in your embrace, in your eyes, in you. you're everything he's ever wanted.

#mito.txt #idk where to post this coz i dont wanna use main #but i really wanted to write it #him <3 <3 <3 #also i did not proofread this at all so sorry if it's too messy #dpr ian smut #christian yu smut #christian yu scenarios #dpr ian scenarios #christian yu x reader #dpr ian x reader

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cobraaah · 4 months ago

Text

Pairing• [Nauseaxe_404 ♡ Reader]

A/N• This took way longer than I wanted. Hopefully, it's not too long for you guys. It's not the best since I haven't written anything, let alone smut in a long time. Also not proofread. . Way too long. Also I dunno how to do warnings so be prepared I guess.

Warnings• Smut 18+, intentional injury, manipulation, slight blood?, axe usage ( not hurting reader), P in V, cunnilingus

Word count• 8k

Superstar

Desperate. Desperate for money of course! Recently you've been low on money, having bad impulsive buying habits on randome junk you didn't need. "A way to gain fast money!" Popped up on your laptop screen. Scrolling on suspicious and unsecured websites had its downsides. A grumbled sigh left you as you tried to click the ad off your screen. It didn't leave, it was like some sort of weird virus. . or something like that, you wernt the smartest tool in the shed when it came to computers. Your curiosity came over you, you did need some quick cash. Your morals went out the window, discarding the fact that you could get so many viruses, maybe even kidnapped! Your finger hovered hesitantly over the pad on your laptop. Deciding to get it over with quick, you click, closing your eyes for some reason, expecting a million more pop ups to show up, maybe a random guy breaking into your home to take you away. . but no. Your E-Mail opened up instead. Your eyes squint at the screen reading the new E-Mail that was sent to you. To you, it was all non important, besides a few key details, they read; "simple and does not require any particular skills or talents." , "50,000 dollars cash in total. Half will be sent to you in a few days, the other half will be at the job site." You paused for a second, re-reading the last part. Your eyes widen as your mouth gaped with a surprised grin. "Fifty K?!" You scanned the email over again, trying to convince yourself this isn't real, fortunately, it was. Deciding to actually read the email now the description talked about having to be a mediator, having to remove some tendents from a hotel of sorts. Seeing as they said it's simple and you don't need any special skills, this seemed as a easy way for you to earn some money. Red flags should've been popping up in your head but your lust and desperation for money took over. Quickly, you typed a E-Mail back accepting the offer, clicking send you sat back with a sigh. Now all you had to do was wait for half the money to be sent to you and-. "Wait a second.." You mumbled to yourself. With another quick re reading of the E-Mail they did say they were going to send half the money. . but how? "I never gave them my address or like. . anything?" With a sigh, you closed your laptop assuming that these ominous people from this sketchy ad had all your information already from your relentless visits to sketchy websites doing god knows what on them.

A few days have gone by since you've sent that e-mail accepting the suspicious job offer that you didn't even know was real to be honest. Currently looking up at the ceiling contemplating everything you've done at this point, we're you really that gullible? Thinking that someone would actually give you a-. . A loud crashing noise can be heard outside your room, heavy footsteps can be heard getting more faint until nothing. Frozen through the whole ordeal, you sit up after just laying there for who knows how long. Your eyes dart over to your door completely unsure about this whole thing, did someone really just break into your house? What if they were still inside?! A shiver runs through your body, goosebumps form on your arms at the thought. Getting up, you shuffle your way to your door cautiously incase the intruder was still there. With a creak of the door, your eyes dart everywhere not noticing anything out of place. Walking out of the hallway you notice a suitcase placed infront of your front door. "What the fuck.." Eyes squinting suspiciously at the case infront of you. Looking behind your shoulder before you crouch down and open the suitcase up.

Stacked upon stacks of hundred dollar bills are loaded in the case. Your mouth open slighty in disbelief at the sight, was this the twenty-five thousand?? Who ever your client is, they know where you live. Too overwhelmed by the amount of cash infront of you and the thought of some random from the internet knowing where you live, AND them actively breaking into your house, you shut the case. Staring surprised at it, you pick it up and walk back into your room carefully setting the briefcase next to your dresser. You get settled back into your bed opening your laptop having it rest on your lap. Just before opening up the web browser a pop up flashes on your screen, it has some address with the text underneath it reading "Arrive by 6 AM this monday, no backing out now." Oh. . oh. A small frown forms on your face at how threatening that last part was. Weighing the option of dipping with the twenty-five thousand dollars or suffer the consequences your client would serve to you if you didn't listen. . . you took the ladder. You take a screenshot of the address, saving it to your laptop for later. The pop up disappears a few moments later leaving you to the browser.

Scrolling on Dumblr, looking through random blogs, reading fanfics, the usual. Just as your finishing reading a blog the notification inbox pings. . . and pings repeatedly. "Jesus christ.." You mumbled under your breath. 'Swear to god, if this is the same guy-' Tapping on the inbox button you're welcomed by spammed comments by this guy named Nauseaxe_808. Now you would've been fine by this if it wasn't the same guy you've blocked hundreds of times for, number one being a creep, leaving obsessive comments. . and that's it. This guy just creeps you the hell out, everytime you block him he comes back with a new account with the same name but just different numbers added at the end, it started as Nauseaxe_404 to Nauseaxe_808.

At this point you've thought of just deleting your account since no one interacts with your blogs besides this weirdo. BUT thinking that if you did delete your account this sicko would win in his sick game. Of course at some point you started to feel bad for the guy, he seemed like a good person at some points when he wasn't leaving comments like, "I know where you live Superstar!", "Please notice me, I'm your BIGGEST fan!" Just super obsessive stuff. Did it make you feel wanted. . . yes. Should it? no. Are you delusional? maybe. Finger grazing over the mouse pad on the laptop, with a click on this guys profile and another click on the block button a sense of relief washes over you, but so does some regret creep up on you. All this guy wants is your attention and you keep on blocking him, maybe you should respond to him once. . . just once so you don't feel guilty about ignoring this guy, you'll just wait until the next time he makes a new account to respond with a simple 'Thanks.' and maybe he'll leave you alone, maybe just one response will make him stop. Is that a smart move to make against this online stalker? Not really, but common sense wasn't really that common to you anyways. You close the laptop with a sigh deciding today was eventful enough for you, too overwhelming in fact. Setting the laptop on the floor you get settled in your bed, deciding to get some sleep. Sleep quickly takes over, not realizing how exhausted you were. . .

Monday comes quicker than expected, unfortunately. Having to wake up way earlier than expected to go to this random ass location in the middle or the woods. Great! Sarcasticly you think to yourself as you follow the GPS on your phone, a small scowl appears on your face, rethinking your decisions. You dressed somewhat formal for this job, after all they are paying you fifty thousand dollars to be a mediator so you better belive it you're not gonna look homeless today. But having to wake up at five in the morning so you could make it on time didn't motive you that much to put that much effort in yourself. You did the basic for yourself and hoped that was good enough for this client of yours. The soft growl of your stomach interrupts your thoughts. You completely forgot to eat something before leaving due to being so nervous for this ominous, potentially dangerous job. Butterflies twisted your stomach like parasites as the destination neared closer, you felt like you were gonna throw up. You power through it though and turn on some music to calm your nerves and get your mind soothed. The sky still shone with the bright moon still out, the sun still sleeping. . . just like what you should be doing right now. You shake your head dismissing any negative thoughts about this job, you were gonna do fine. . right..? A soft groan leaves you as your mind keeps wondering and complaining about how stupid and unsafe this was for you to be doing.

Pushing away those thoughts, the cars headlights shine on a old looking hotel of sorts. Parking the car nearby you step out, the cold very early morning air hiting your skin almost like a warning, making the nerves on your body be on high alert once more. The gravel crunches under your shoes as you walk twords the hotel. Stepping on the wooden front steps, you're greeted with a briefcase and a walkie talkie placed near the front door. Bending down you open up the briefcase, marveling at how much money there's in it. . just like last time. Abruptly the walkie next to it chimes in, "Thank you for accepting this job offer! Now that you've accepted the full amount of cash, you can now begin the job." the walkie buzzes off as the guy stops talking. You're exciment was short lived as you realized you did have a job to do afterall, debts to pay, things to buy, and of course bills. You stand up with a stretch grabbing the radio and the briefcase. You put the case in the back of your car and walk back to the hotel, you feel unease, your body telling you this isn't a good idea, red flags should've be popping up in your head. But you're clouded with your need for money you trudge on and open up the front door, a loud creak resonates through the deathly quiet, empty lobby. As soon as you step inside the door quickly slams behind you leaving you in the dark for a quick second before the dim lights turn on. Two doors on either side of you and one big door in the middle presumably leading to the rest of the hotel. Each door has a different colour red, blue, yellow and finally purple.

The walkie talkie comes back to life, "Congratulations for making it this far, in all honestly youve made it farther than three quarters of our business partners from before. You seem reliable and more. . .entertaining. .," the voice goes quiet before buzzing back to life, "Anyways! Welcome to my hotel, just a small caution for your job today as a mediator, you'll be working with. .with monsters? Not really that important, anyways start with the red door!" The walkie quickly shuts off without anymore information about the 'monsters'. "W. . Wait?!" Your finger pressed the button on the side of the walkie, "What do you mean 'monsters'?" You question wide eyed into the walkie. . . you recive no response after a minute. You silently curse to yourself as you slowly approch the red labeled door that reads '001' in gold letters. You side eye the barricaded door and windows, realization finally sets in. You can't leave until you're finished with this job. With your attention back on the door you grip the handle and open it, quickly stepping inside.

The door slams behind you making you jump forward a bit, startled again by another door slamming behind you. You squint at the door suspiciously as you turn back around looking around. You step forward into the middle of the room, "Uhhmm. . . Hello?" You say hopefully loud enough for the resident to hear. Before you're able to take in the surroundings something hard hits the back of your head making your vision go black and fall unconscious, the last thing you're able to feel or even hear is "I've got you my. . Superstar," as you feel a pair of hands grab you a little too tight, keeping you from falling face first onto the floor.

A soft buzzing fills your mind as you slowly gain consciousness again. A soft groan escapes your throat as you sit up from the floor, your head hurts like hell. It appears you're in the same spot before you blacked out, it suprises you that youre still alive. As your vision gets unfuzzy there's a tall figure looming over you just. . . staring. "Uhm. . Hello..?" Your voice came out mumbled and quiet as you started back at the supposed monster infront of you, you can't make out what his face looks like due to his hood casting a dark shadow over his face and the red bandana covering the lower part of his face only making one of his eyes visible. In all honestly he doesn't really look like a monster besides his much taller height, but nothing else is distinguishable about him to classify him as a monster.

"I can't belive we can finally meet. . .-" Heavy breathing can be heard coming from him, almost could be distinguished as panting. "-Face to face..," His eyes squint, under that bandana he most likely has a sinister unsettling grin on his face. Just at the thought makes you cringe, internally of course, scared to make any negative reaction could have percussions. You finally register what he said after a moment, your mind trying to catch up with everything, adrenaline spiked a little out of fear, "Do I know. . you?" Your eyes squint suspiciously at the man infront of you, legs moving on their own, you stand up, leaning against the door behind you. The height difference didn't change at all, he was still much. . . much taller than you. Standing at roughly about two meters tall, your eyes widen in shock at the size difference between you both. 'What the hell was this guy?', 'Is he actually a monster?' , 'ARE MONSTERS EVEN REAL?'. Multiple thoughts swarmed your head like bees, are you going crazy? Shaking your head you averted your attention back to the guy infront of you. . He's still staring with his ecstatic squinted eyes, great.

"Of course you know me Superstar, I'm your biggest fan," You froze, goosebumps automatically formed on your skin as you heard that nickname. 'Superstar', could this really be the guy from Dumblr. . .? The air in the room seemed to get thick, making it hard for you to breath. Your hands get sweaty, a shudder runs through your spine. This 'thing' was your stalker. With heightened sense you realize that he's holding an axe. 'Holy fuck he's gonna kill me, I'm dead... im dead... im dead'. Those two words repeat in your head, frozen in fear. With your eyes fixated on the axe he begins to speak again. "Sorry for knocking you out, I thought you were one of those 'pests' who try to break into my room! It's become a habit for me to automatically attack anyone who enters. Good thing i realized it was 'you', my Superstar! Or else you woulve gotten. . . seriously injured." He cocks his head to the side, confused on your spaced out, deer caught in headlights facial expression, not realizing youre staring at the axe.

Responding in a meekly way, "I... It's okay.," Being super freaked out by the fact he could've killed you if he didn't recognized you sent a shock through you. A sudden laugh breaks you out of your trance as your eyes dart back to his face, you realize he's laughing. "PHAHAHAHA!" Being the awkward person you are, nervous and emotionally broken already, in fear he might attack you again, you awkwardly laugh along. "Hah... hahaha.." Your laughs come out more quietly than you wanted them, but he doesn't seem to care. But seriously, you have questions, you need to figure out how to cooperate with this monster and convince him to leave the hotel, afterall you do have a job to do.

Bringing up the courage to yourself to speak as he finally stops laughing, his squinted eyes turning back to their normal predatory gaze. "Are you by chance Nauseaxe_404...?" Raising an eyebrow already knowing the answer, but wanting confirm your suspicions. You see his eyes squint happily with admiration. "Yes! You don't know how long I've waited to finally talk to you, I've tried messaging you on Dumblr but you kept on blocking me.." His voice trailed off slightly, making you feel unease. Both his hands grip on the axe tightend as his breath became labored again. "You. . . You didn't block me on purpose. . hah . . Right?" His red eye glared at you with a subtle twitch, was he really that naive? Did he not realize he was a total creep when leaving those comments on your blogs? "Uh. . Of course not! It's probally some weird Dumblr glitch.." You don't sound sure at all, or even confident, but it was good enough for Nause. His grip on the axe loosened until only he eas holding onto it with one hand, and his shoulders slacked. He blinked and his eye went back to normal as he stood up semi straight again, still a bit hunched over.

"Heheh yeah. I guess it was, haha..," He paused, rubbing his neck. "Well then, what brings you here my Superstar?" He questioned, looking down at you with an unreadable expression, you weren't quite sure how to read him, he was unpredictable. "You need to like. . . leave?" You tried putting it in simple terms in hopes he won't lash out on you. You start feeling unnerved and decide to glance around, all this direct eye contact with him is making you more nervous. Taking in the view around you, you see presumably stapled or tacked printed out pages of writings of some blog? Not just a normal blog, fanfics. . . Holy crap. This guy has been printing off every single one of your posts and sticking them to his walls. He really IS your biggest fan. . . in more appropriate terms 'He really IS a stalker, creep, weirdo, a loser with no life!', gulping at the thought, thankfully your attention is directed back to Nause as he starts speaking again.

"Why 'would' I want to leave?! I have no idea how I got here in the first place. . . but I still have no intentions on leaving." His voice trails off with the hint of festering agitation. Small huffing can be heard from him again, he grips his axe infront of him. You accidently worked him up again, seemed like that was somehow a touchy question, flip. Mentally cursing to yourself you connect the few braincells in your head that haven't fried yet and come up with a excellent plan on how to deal with this freak.

"H. . How about I write a uhm..-" You paused, are you really gonna make the proposition of writing a fanfic for him in exchange for his leave. Yeah. "-If I write you a 'fanfic'. . or something since you seem to enjoy them. . . a lot..," Mumbled as your eyes glance back to the walls full of printed out pictures of your blogs. "If I do that will you please leave this hotel?" Silently pleading, praying, hoping to the man in the sky that he'll accept this offer so you can hurry up and finish this job. His body begins to shake with. . you don't even know at the moment. His eye curves with excitement you presume. "Really? Just for me right? No one else?!" Before you're able to respond he continues, "Could you maybe write them here? Or at least one? I have a old typewriter just incase for this one specific moment I fantasized about fivehundredseventytwothousandeighhundrednintyhundrendedquadrillion times!" You should be surprised but at this point you just want to be done.

"Sure... Sure yeah.." You mumbled with squinted eyes, hoping he wasn't going to make you stay here forever writing endless stories for him. You follow him into a room that has a desk with a laptop and a wooden chair. . . That must be uncomfortable for him, sitting at this desk for how many hours a day, stalking your blog with the shitty hotel wifi, life must suck for this dude no wonder why he's like this. Shaking your head at that absurd intruding thought you eye the chair, is that really what you're gonna have to sit on? Walking over, you sit down. Nause grabs the type writer from a box in the corner of the room, he pushes the laptop to the side and replaces it with the typewriter. He looms behind you, waiting for you to start typing. "Anything. . specific you want me to write?" Quickly you begin to regret the decision of giving him the option to choose what you write. "What about one about me and. . ." You can quite literally feel his breath huffing down on you, his grip on the old chair makes a soft cracking noise at how tight he's holding onto it. "Y. . yeah! Of course!" You quickly say not wanting to hear what else he has to say..., also scared he's gonna hurt you on accident from how worked up he got. Your attention goes back on the type writer, fingers tap against the keys writing whatever comes to your mind.

"Can you make it long....? Like at the minimum one hundred pages maybe?" Your fingers freeze on the keys. "one. . ONE HUNDRED?!" Your eyes widen as you tilt your head up to look at him, his gaze is still unrelenting as ever. "Yes! Since I'm getting a 'real', authentic work of art from you personally. . . I need it to be long.. It needs to take me more than one sitting to read it! PAHAHAHAHA." Who the hell does the guy think he is. "Sure. ." You're cooked, you've only manged to write stories with at the maximum two thousand words, and now you have to achieve like what. . fifty thousand words? Hopefully- "Can you start writing? Sorry to press but you've been looking up at me for a minute now. .NOT that I don't mind. . . pahahahahahaha," Your head slowly tilts back down defeated, no way in hell you can write this much in one sitting, and having to do it sitting on this uncomfortable ass chair and someone watching every word you type. Deciding to lock in with that grindset mindset you begin typing, fingers grazing over the keys as you tap away. With Nause not injecting in every second you're able to actually write.

You've managed to successfully write a solid ten pages. You slump forward dejected. How the actual fuck are you going to finish this. Already ran out of ideas and your ass starting to hurt from the wooden chair. You shift with a soft groan, having completely forgotten about the monster looming right behind you. You jump forward, startled at the sudden voice behind you, tilting your head to see him. "How's it going Superstar? Is the chair treating you well enough PHAHAHAHA." The nerve on this guy. You give him a deadpanned stare before turning your head to face the type writer again. "It's great. Thank you very much..," Sarcasm laced your voice, a small laugh can be heard behind you then in a swift movement Nause picks you up and places you on his lap as he sits down on the chair that 'might' be a little too small for him. Your body tenses up in his grasp as his hands lay comfortably around your waist, keeping you in place. Small huffing can be heard behind you. "You can relax Superstar, I won't be hurting you...yet. phahahahahahahah. . . hah.."

How ominous! You slowly begin typing again, trying to calm your breathing or just yourself in general. But it seems like Nause isn't letting you get anywhere near finishing that damn story. He keeps on poking and prodding you with injections on what you should put in the story. "How about you make me a love interest? Make it where me and you.." His labored breathing starts up again, his grip on you tightening but he doesn't seem to care at your attempts for him to stop. "Y. . Yeah! Okay!" You quickly verbally agree to this idea instead of nodding to his other ones since this one seems to twist something inside him. Gross. His grip slowly loosens as you quickly begin writing again about him and you doing more intimate things like couples would do, but nothing too drastic.

Nause gets more comfortable as your fingers press against the keys, it seems like the noise lulls him to some extent. Was this part of one of his fantasies he's had with you? You start to feel kinda bad for the dude, he's way too obsessed with you. . a nobody. How could someone like this find you alluring? You cautiously lean back into him, oddly finding comfort in this situation. You hear his heavy breathing audibly hitch at the sudden adjustment. His arms snake around your waist completely, entraping you for good now. Not that you were complaining, it felt nice.. and comforting, in a more underlying sickening way. You shouldn't be comfortable around this guy, he's your stalker after all, in all reality did you even know anything about him besides his crippling obsession over you? No, no you didnt, you should be pushing him away but the fear, the fear of him hurting you made you stay in his lap. In the back of your mind you knew how wrong this was, how wrong it was for you to find a small twing of comfort with this sadistic monster. Maybe your desperation, the feeling of finally feeling wanted in your life, finding someone who actually wanted to be by you?

These thoughts made you feel revolted. You were actually feeling disgusted with yourself right now. A sickening feeling wrapped into your stomach, why were you trying to find some light in this situation? Was it to try and manipulate yourself into thinking that you're fine with all of. . this? You've never met anyone like this before. Never seen a person so obsessed. . devoted with you, you didn't want this, not at all. This guy is dangerous, he's unstable, and extremely unpredictable. You 'shouldnt' want this, but knowing that it's wrong only makes you crave it more. When you’re not used to attention, anything feels romantic. The way his arms are wrapped around your body as you try to focus on writing the story infront of you make you feel completed in a way. Nauses chipper voice broke you out of your thoughts, "Can you start to write the more heated stuff now? Just like in your old posts? Can you write about how you and I. ." He begins to list off in very detailed scenarios between you both. You sit there and listen to him talking non stop, you don't even think he took a break to breath. As he continues to rant about multiple of his fantasies that you should write about his grip on you gets tighter. . . and tighter to the point where it feels like he's going to break your ribs.

You yelp. Pathetically, you try to pry his hands off of you but it doesn't work. Realization sets in that he doesn't realize his death grip he has on you. You tilt your head to see him and his gaze is glossed over as he continues to ramble on about his weird fantasies. You look around the room and see that his axe is near the door, too far away to grab.You slowly lose hope, is this how you die, by the hands of your obessor? A cracking noise is what makes him stop. Your breathing chokes as you feel a sudden shot of pain near your chest. 'Did. . did he just break my rib..?' "S..SUPERSTAR? Superstar are you okay?" His voice is laced with faux worry, but you're too out of it to realize, your eyes are glued to where you felt the pain. Multiple thoughts rush through head about the pain, what were you even going to do? Nause picking you up is what breaks you out of the trance. "I think I broke your rib! PHAHAHA." Your eyebrows furrow at his laughing. He didn't seem to feel any remorse or guilt for hurting you. . . you should've known. You're a fool to have thought you felt secure next to him.

The sudden shift in surroundings jolts you out of the haze of pain and fear, as Nause carries you into a different room. The air feels heavier here, suffused with a sense of foreboding that sends shivers down your spine. The mattress beneath you feels cold and unforgiving, a stark contrast to the warmth you once sought in his twisted embrace.As your gaze wanders around the room, you are met with a display of walls adorned with an array of photographs capturing moments of your life, each one a piece of your personal history frozen in time. Surrounding you are intimate details about your existence, laid bare for Nause to see, creating a tapestry of memories and revelations that paint a vivid portrait of your identity, your life. You can't help but feel like a trapped bird, ensnared in a web woven by a predator whose intentions grow darker with each passing moment.

Nause reappeared after a brief moment, holding a small, sleek black container in his hands. As he places it beside you, his tall figure looms over, casting a shadow that seems to engulf the room. "Superstar, may I have a look at where it hurts?" he asks, his one visible eye gazing at you with an innocent curiosity. Feeling a mix of apprehension, you nod hesitantly mumbling unsure "S. . Sure," propping yourself up with your elbows. Slowly, you lift your shirt, revealing the area where your ribs are already bruising. Nause opens the container, revealing its contents - soft gauze and a cold ice pack, promising relief from the pain that gnaws at you. He begins to slowly wrap the ice pack with gauze around the side where your rib was broken, the coldness makes your body shudder and goosebumps form on your skin. His movements are carefully slow, as if he's doing it on purpose. As you finally begin to come down from your shock of how much pain you were in, soft labored breathing can be heard next to you. You wonder how long he's been like that, was him bandaging you up really making him act up. . again?

With a nervous gaze, you watch as his hands slowly guide the gauze just under chest, his eyes were trained on your exposed flesh. You cringe slighty as you notice, is that what was really bothering him? Seeing half your torso exposed? "Did you know this was one of my scenarios I've thought of before?!" Nauses somehow chipper voice rings through the quiet room. Holy fuck, he broke your rib on purpose. This revolution makes your body shudder with disgust? Anger? You couldn't really tell at the moment. "Oh. . Oh really. ." You mumbled out under your breat, distaste laced your . Nause finishes up bandaging you up and sets the container on the floor next to the bed. You quickly pull your shirt down with the energy you have left. You lay back down on the dingy bed now just feeling how tired. . exhausted you were. A sigh leaves you as your hands rub against your face, leaving them there for a second before letting then fall to your sides.

Frustration boiled inside you. This job was suppost to be quick and easy, you wernt prepared for this, for 'any' of this. This was most likely some sort of trap from your client. He set you up for failure. "Superstar, you should really get some rest. You still need to finish writing my one hundred pages story!" Your tired eyes glanced over to him, his towering frame made you feel small, pathetic. "Yeah. . goodnight.." You managed to muster out, turning around so your back faced him. Pulling the blanket up to your face, nuzzling into it. Sleep quickly came over to you. Should it worry you that he's watching you sleep? Yeah, and should you be on guard? Probally, but you've lost hope. You never really had a chance in the first place, did you?

A soft groan left your throat as you woke up, the pain from your broken rib quickly reminding you where you were. Rolling over on your back with a yawn you almost choke on your breath as you see Nause still standing over the bed. . watching you. "Were you there. . . all night?" You question him with a raised brow, you were seriously concernedfor this guy. "Of course! I had to make sure my Superstar was safe!" Of course, what more did you expect from him. You hiss out in pain as you sit up. "Can I get like an advil or something?" Your hand holds the spot where the now semi cold ice pack sits, you don't bother telling him about the temperature of it, you don't want to risk him overwhelming himself again and hurting you. . again. He seems to pause for a second, letting out an unsure noise. "I don't really have anything like that here. .The only reason I got that ice pack and stuff for you was from one of my neighbors. ." Sheepishly he rubbed the back of his neck his eye twitched with agitation, you wondered about why he couldn't just go over next door and ask for some pain meds but you didn't wanna pester him about it, he didn't seem to have the best relationship with the other residents here.

"BUT! To take your mind off of the pain you can continue writing!" Oh right, you still had to write about fifty more pages for his psychotic fanfic about you both. With the typewriter on standby he carefully sets it in your lap, to your suprise it wasn't as heavy as you thought it would be. Leaning back on the adjusted pillows behind you, you began writing. Deciding to cheap your way out, you typed every word with doubled letters to make the pages fill out quicker. After awhile, you were able to make the pages filled out faster than normal, but you quickly ran out of ideas. "Do you 'really' need a hundred pages? Im running out of ideas. Can't these perfectly crafted fifty pages be go-," Nause quickly cuts you off. "NO! I NEED those one hundred pages. I need. . . hah. ." His voice trails off as his breathing starts to get harder. In a swift motion he yanks his axe out, his grip tight on the handle, his eyes clouded with god knows what as he glares at you.

"Y. . Yeah! Of courseee..." You quickly agree scared of the axe welding monster infront of you. His grip slowly falters as his breathing goes back to normal after a couple of moments. "PAHAHAHA. . HAH.. I know how to help you!" Your expression quickly dropped, what could he mean by that? He could do litteraly anything to 'help' you, what he thinks could be 'help' could be the complete opposite to you. Multiple ideas infected your head, multiple terrible ideas, you were terrified on what he was about to do. "Since you need inspiration how about I help get your little mind in gear again!" His hand pulled down his bandana showing his sinister grin that laced his face, his sharp teeth gleamed in the dimly lit bedroom. "PHAHAHA!" He began to hysterically laugh again as he crawled onto the bed with you, on top of you. "W. . wha . ." The words you want to get out in protest, to question what he's about to do, they get stuck in your throat from fear. All you can do is stare up at him petrified with wide eyes, mouth agap.

"You don't know how long I've waited for this. .!" His eye gleamed down at you happily, in his sick twisted mind this way his way of helping you. After a moment of him just looking at you and you not giving a response, his head tilted to the side in confusion. His expression turned to one of a kicked puppy, his once toothy grin frowned. "What's the matter? Why arnt you excited? Isn't this what you've wanted?" He questioned looking confused, and a little heart broken. "I've read all your stories and one of them sounds just like this! A tall, handsome, good looking monster with an axe gets with you. I already know that the story was about me, the description matches. So. . . isn't this what you want?" You freeze, did you actually write something like that? You don't remember at all, you begin to doubt his truthfulness and think he made that up on the spot just to try and manipulate you. But, another thought did cloud your mind. When in your whole life are you going to get another chance to fuck a monster? You start to see the appeal of him, his grey skin, sinister gaze, size difference, and the fact he could kill you? A whole package deal to be honest.

"I. . I guess." Reluctantly you agree, if there's a chance you're going to die, you'll die happy. You wince under his gaze, his eyes squint happily once more as his toothy grin appears again. "Great! Even if you said no I was going to anyways!" He admits nonchalantly, what did you expect, of course he would. "Now let's get those creative gears in your head flowing with endless ideas!" His voiced changed into a slutry tone as his gaze clouded with undying lust. With his head lowered and his face just inches from yours, you can see a long, black tongue slithering out of his mouth. A soft gasp leaves your mouth at the sight, at the opportunity Nause connects his mouth with yours. His tongue snaked into your mouth, causing you to let out a choked gasp. He then left you with a sated moan as his tongue roamed around in your mouth. His hands creeped under your shirt, his rough fingers pawed at the exposed flesh of your sides, seemingly trying to ground himself.

As his knee forcefully inserted itself between your thighs rubbing against you, it felt divine. A choked whimper left your lips at the feeling, you don't even remember the last time someone was this intimate with you, it was making you feel light headed. . . No it wasn't because of that, it was the fact that Nause wasn't budging when you needed air, now. Your eyes shot open as your hands relentlessly pushed and pathetically punched against his chest, he was unmoving. With your vision starting to blur you resorted to your last idea, your hand moved down to his crotch and roughly squzzed. A low moan left his mouth as he pulled back from you panting heavily. "PHAHAHAHA. Superstar. . hah.," He stares down at your hand, licking his lips before reaching down and grabbing it. His large hand wrapped around your wrist pushing your hand harder onto him.

A low satisfied groan leaves him as he ruts against your hand. "N. .Nause..," You spoke barley above a whisper, your eyes were glued to the scene infront of you, his large clothed cock rubbing against your hand. Fuck, there's no way that was fitting inside you in anyway. "Superstar. ." His eyes never left your face. "I. . wait a second, how did it go again.." He mumbled more to himself as he took his hand off of yours and searched his pockets. After a moment he took a piece of carefully folded paper out of his pocket and unfolded it, his eyes scanned the page. "Nause. . . what is that." You could already assume it was one of your fictive stories. "It's one of my favorite pieces by you! I just forgot how it went. . bear with me for a moment Superstar. . .!" His voice trailed off twords the end as he concentrates on re freshing his memory up on supposedly what he wants to do. "Aha! Now get ready for a once in a life time experience. . . PAHAHAHAHA." He shoves the paper back into his pocket, his predatory gaze looks down at your lower abdomen. His fingers quickly did work of your pants tugging them off and discarding them on the floor.

His breathing begins to get labored again and if pupils could have heart eyes that's what he would have right now. "Finally. .!" He gets situated inbetween your thighs, now laying on his stomach, his head resting on the inner of your thigh and his callused fingers lazily tracing along the already damp clothed slit of your entrance. In a swift sudden motion he pulls his axe out from his back, holding onto the butt of the axe he slowly cuts off your underwear. Your body freezes as you stare down at him with wide, scared, yet desperate eyes. Maybe him using the axe turned you on, just a little bit. His axe hovered over the bare skin of your thighs, he seemed lost in a trance as he traced light lines above your skin.

"N. .Nause?!" Catiously you warned him with a slight waver in your tone, scared he was actually going to cut you. "PAHAHAHAHA. . . HAH.. Sorry." He haphazardly tosses the axe off the side of the bed, a thud resonates in the room from the heavy axe. "Now where were we!?" He stares at you briefly before redirecting it down to your exposed cunt. His fingers traced along your folds, letting his fingers get drenched in your slick. With his mouth hovering over your clit, he experimentally takes a long lick on it. You squirm at the feeling, thighs instinctively wanting to close, his free hand holds onto one of your thighs making sure you're spread open for him. His two fingers quickly pump in and out of you as his tongue circles and softly sucks on your clit. The obscene squeltch of your pussy sends a blush across your face, with his relentless bullying of his fingers in you, curling up into every time he pushed them in. Your hips jerked as you felt the familiar feeling of your high building up in your stomach.

Soft pants filled the room as you neared your peak, your hands gripped onto Nauses head pushing him more into you, the feeling of his tongue swirling around on you became too much. A soft moan left your mouth as you clenched around his fingers, coating them with your cum. The low groan that left Nause vibrated against you, causing your hips to jerk slighty due to the stimulation. "PAHAHA. Did I do good Superstar?" He asked teasingly while sucking hard on your clit. "Mmphh.." Is all you manage to reply from the overstimulation. Nause leans back after a moment, allowing you to catch your breath. "Now let's get to the real show! HAH. ." His unerving grin never leaving his face as he undoes the clasp of his grayish belt, quickly yanking his pants down discarding them on the floor.

You're now able to see his clothed member strained against the confines of his briefs, there's a wet spot near his tip from how much pre cum he's leaking. Your eyes widen at just how big he is again realizing that there's no way he's gonna be able to fit all of that in you. "Feeling nervous? PAHAHAHA. You look so cute when you're scared. . hehe..!" His hands grab at your shirt ripping it off of you, then unclasping your bra leaving you completely nude underneath him. His hands find there way to your chest and paw at your breast's, taking in the nip inbetween his fingers and tweening it. The noises filling in the room are your soft whines and whimpers and Nauses concerning hard breathing. "Nause. ." You mewl out impatiently. "Sorry! They're just so soft..HAH..heh.." He pinches them once more before pulling off his briefs. With him now exposed he grabbed the back of your thighs hastily, pushing them up to your chest.

"You don't know how long I've waited for this!" With his neurotic gaze set on yours he roughly pushes himself inside, pained whimpers filled the room as tears filled the corners of your eyes. The sudden intrusion with no warning did not prepare you at all. He's only able to stuff about half of himself inside you due to his size. You guess due to him being freakishly tall with a huge build he was bound to have a big cock. "So small.." He mutters with a groan into your neck. "All mine. ." He pulls out and slowly ruts back in clumsy, your gummy walls desperately try to adjust to his size. With each thrust, his movements get harsher, more needy, all consuming. With his face nuzzled into your neck, you feel something slick slither around your neck before a quick shot of pain envelopes on your shoulder.

Nause bites rather harshly, letting his teeth sink in just enough to draw blood. His tongue laps up the blood eagerly, you can feel his dick throb inside you as he gets closer to his release. His hand moves down and his rough thumb sloppily rubs circles on your clit, a choked moan leaves you at the overwhelming sensations. You thought he would be talking this whole time but he seems too caught up in the feeling to care. With his thrusts getting more sloppy and the pleasure building up in your stomach becoming too much, you clench around Nauses cock, closing your eyes at the feeling letting out a moan as you ride out your climax. Shortly after Nause rocks his hips into a few more times before shoving himself back in roughly. You shudder at the feeling of him filling you up, harsh breaths fill your ears as he's gripping onto you like you'll leave.

He stays on top of you, holding onto you as his cock slowly softens inside of you. He pulls out, laying beside you, his arms hugging you from behind, face comfortably nuzzled in your hair, taking in the scent. The feeling is comforting, as you hear his breathing soften behind you sleep begins to lull you. You sleep comfortably in Nauses arms, the dread of having to write those pages and the task of removing Nause from this room leaves your mind as sleep over takes you. The pain of your rib being forgotten, that was going to be a pain when you woke up.

#monster x mediator #nauseaxe 404 smut #nauseaxe 404 x reader #nauseaxe 404 #nauseaxe 404 x reader smut #🦝kobraaaah💤#🦝cobraaah💤#🦝fic💤

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perseephoneee · 1 year ago

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Can you do a isaac lahey imagine where the reader us on her period and freaks out and doesn't know what to do so lydia tells him what to do

hehe yes omg

period talk (isaac lahey x f!reader)

warnings: fluff, period talk, dumb boy

a/n: try the drink mentioned if you want to imagine running through hogwarts on a winter day.

↳ masterlist ↳ want to be shipped with a fic character?

Isaac wouldn't admit it, but he loved the cold weather. He liked when the winter season would hit, and holidays were a topic of conversation. Holidays were the only time his Dad treated him like he was actually proud of him, and despite that fucked up relationship, Isaac couldn't help but romanticize the season. It's why, when Beacon Hills hit a new low for the weather, he was excited to see you at school. Perhaps he could even convince you to skip class and get hot coco with him.

Unfortunately for him, your period had started therefore your mood was sour. The cold just added to your discomfort, and you basically hissed at him when he came by your locker.

"Woah, what did I do?" Isaac recoiled, a nervous laugh on his lips. You took a deep breath before turning and facing him.

"Nothing, you did nothing," you sighed. "I'm just...not doing great."

"Whats wrong?" Isaac inquired, brows furrowed and concern evident on his face. You loved your cute werewolf boyfriend, and while he was very helpful, he probably couldn't do much for you right now.

"I'm on my period," you admitted with a twinge of shame. Talking about these things was never fun, even to someone you trusted. A blush coated Isaac's cheeks as he processed what you said.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Should I, uh, do something?" Isaac stammered, hands in his pockets.

"Just be you, I'm a big girl and can handle myself," you chuckled, lightly slapping his arm as you closed your locker and started in the direction of class. Isaac stood in the hallway a moment longer, before deducing a game plan and targeting the area of the school he knew the familiar red head would be. She was typing on her phone when he ran up beside her, backpack slung lazily over his shoulder.

"I need your help," Isaac said hurridly, earning a squeak of surprise form Lydia. She set two angry eyes at him, and he resisted the urge to run away. Women did not like him much today.

"Stop sneaking up on me like that," Lydia rolled her eyes, putting her phone in her purse. "What is it?"

"Y/N is on her period, and I want to help, but I don't know what to do, and you're a girl and you're smart so I thought you'd have some ideas?" Isaac rushed, lips pressed in a thin line as Lydia cocked a brow at him.

"Why do you have to make everything so dramatic?" Lydia huffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Isaac sent her a look though that showed that he wasn't going to figure anything out, anytime soon. "Look, unless she asks for products, don't bother trying to buy her them-- you'll likely get the wrong ones anyway. Get her her favorite warm drink, a heating pad, blanket, maybe an activity or something calming."

"Drink, heating pad, blanket, activity, got it," Isaac listed out everything, brows scrunched together in concentration. "Anything else?"

"Yeah, during this time, she's always right. Even if you think she isn't, just agree that you're wrong and she's right. Otherwise, she'll claw your eyes out," Lydia crossed her arms, daring Isaac to challenge her. He stayed quiet though, and she loosened up her stance. "I have to go, have fun, don't get killed."

Isaac was never that great at social cues, but he really liked you, and that was enough. Ignoring the uncomfortable feeling taking pit in his stomach, he skipped out on school to go get the necessary things Lydia listed. Starting off with a butterbeer chai, a concoction you created (two pumps caramel, two pumps toffee, caramel drizzle, and chai); going to CVS for a heating pad and a blanket; then finally the bookstore down the street where he found a book you wanted (after searching through his phone for fifteen minutes trying to find the text where you mentioned wanting a new release). By the time he had finished his grand adventure, school was out and he would be able to surprise you.

You were having a crappy day with a side of more absolute garbage, so you were very pleasantly surprised when your golden hair boyfriend comes bounding up the street as you exit the school building.

"Woah, where's the fire?" you chuckle. You finally take notice of the bags he's carrying, as well as the drink.

"These are for you," Isaac stutters, passing you the drink. You peer in the bag and can't hide the grin on your face as you take in the plethora of supplies he got. "I know you weren't doing well, and I felt bad, so I got some stuff."

"Isaac, you are the sweetest puppy of a boyfriend a girl could ask for," you smile, wanting nothing more than to pick him up and twirl him around (he is too tall, you are too small). "How did you know what to get?"

"I asked Lydia," he mumbles, staring at his feet. You fight back a chuckle.

"Probably the smartest thing you could've done."

"That was my thought process as well," he chimes, scratching the back of his neck and shooting you a grin. You lean up, kissing him on the corner of his mouth and looping his arm through yours.

"C'mon, lets go hide from the cold together and I'll bitch to you about life," you chime, the cold dusting yours and Isaac's cheeks in shades of pink.

"Sounds perfect, just like you," Isaac smiles, kissing the top of your head as you walk off back home.

#isaac lahey #isaac lahey x reader #daniel sharman #daniel sharman x reader #fluff #teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #teen wolf x reader #my fics #fics

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star-girl-05 · 2 months ago

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Mama I'm In Love With A Criminal

Kol Mikaelson x Reader

~★~❤︎~✦~

Inspo~ Mama I'm in love with a criminal And this type of love isn't rational, it's physical Mama please don't cry, I will be alright All reason aside I just can't deny, I love the guy ~Britney Spears

You should have known he was too good to be true. He was the perfect boyfriend, handsome, funny, caring, and he had an accent -A BRITISH ACCENT. He was just too perfect, he had to have a flaw though it didn’t have to be such a big one. I mean you could get over the vampire thing if anything it was kinda a plus I mean everyone goes through a vampire phase. Even the fact he’s related to Klaus, wasn’t a complete deal breaker. No, what you couldn't get over is the fact he beat Jeremy up with a bat and nearly pummeled the boy to death. You can still remember the call you got from elena she was in tears begging you to come back to mystic falls.

You had decided to go along with Jeremy when Elena sent him away just wanting to have a normal life with no drama. Though you unknowingly had fallen smack dab in the middle.

You were packing up your room, desperate to get back home and comfort your friend. A knock on your door has you freezing. You were hoping it was anyone but Kol, you had no desire to see him. After that call with Elena you never even wanted to hear his name again. You felt like such a fool, you were just a pawn, a means to mess with Elena.

“Darling would you open the door?”, you don’t move hoping that your silence will make him leave. “I suppose you heard about the Jeremy thing but it was nothing personal. Now open the door before I kick it in” you thought the threat over, eventually deciding to stand you don’t know how you would explain a kicked in door.

You kept your face neutral as you opened the door, Kol on the other hand wore a smirk. “I do hope your not here to beat me with a bat”, in truth you should be scared but you just couldn’t bring yourself to be. No, you're already feeling too much to be scared of him.

“Darling,” he reached out, going to stroke your cheek, you quickly dodge. It didn’t seem to upset him though. “Even when you're mad I find you completely irresistible.” You tried your best not to be affected by his words. Yet you still found your heart quickening, in your defense it was only a short while ago that this man was your boyfriend. It was only fitting that there was residual feelings even if you wished there weren't. “Let me make it up to you” he’s reaching for you once more, this time however he moves too fast for you to react. His lips smashing against yours in a heart aching kiss.

“Kol” you mumble against his lips. Your arms rest on his chest your not sure if you wish to push him away or pull him closer.

“I love it when you say my name” he groans as he moves his lips against your neck. You shouldn’t let this continue.

“Kol we shouldn’t-I shouldn’t” you finally managed to push him away. Or at least get him to stop kissing you. He still had you held close against her.

“I don’t want this to get between us, I care for you shouldn’t that be all that matters?” His words gave you pause. You wish it was that easy but the ‘this’ he’s talking about is him beating up your friend's brother. You couldn’t just look past that. “If you can overlook your friends' actions towards my family, then why can’t you look over mine towards theirs?”. His question had you pausing. When he said it like that you realized just how hypocritical you had been.

When it came to your friends you always excused their actions, even the most questionable ones, because they only did what they had to. So if you can excuse their actions maybe you could forgive Kols. “I’m not saying I condone your actions because I don’t but-” you're not even able to finish your sentence before Kol is kissing you. This time you don’t push him away.

For now you just want to focus on the warm feeling he makes erupt in your chest. Not on how your friends are bound to react to your choice in men, but what can you do your in love. Even if he may be a criminal in their minds to you he’s just your Love.

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solarwynd · 3 days ago

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Instagram channel, that tiktok profile thing, remix album on the 4th day, 2 extra album versions on Spotify for a total of 4 covers for the title track, Jimmy Fallon performance, Pop-Up store, etc. This is exactly what Muse got. It's clear that Hybe giving these things to Jimin wasn't them playing favorites, it was just their new album release method that they were testing on Jimin first. And Jin got the improved version of this method. 1 extra remix, 1 extra physical album version, 1 extra digital album version, 2 extra single CDs, radio on week 1, etc.

I saw V stans complaining about him being the only vocal line member to not get a remix album, but that's just because he didn't release an album this year, if he did he definitely would've gotten the same things as Muse and Happy. The equivalent of Layover isn't Muse it's Face and Face didn't get more than 2 remixes or any different album versions either. But you know what Layover did get that neither Face nor Muse got? MVs for every song and multiple performances for all those songs.

The reality is that Hybe has never actually given Jimin anything that the other members didn't get too. And often they get better versions of what Jimin got and even things exclusive to them that Jimin was never even offered. What really happens here is that Hybe will use Jimin to test out new types of release and promotion and because he's given these things first he gets all the heat while everyone after him gets away unscathed. Because seriously, tell me one thing Jimin was given that no one else was? Because I can name several things everyone else but him got.

The difference between Jimin and the other 5 members (cause we all know Jungkook is an exception) is not that Hybe gives Jimin more, no the actual difference is that with the same, if not less tools Jimin manages to achieve way more. And Jin is about to prove this. Happy has everything that Muse got plus more versions, multiple stages, probably more than a month of promotion, the artist behind the album not being in the fuckass military and being able to actually promote the album in person or even just acknowledge the album's existence at all. It has all this but you know damn well it's gonna perform way below Muse. Who got a #14 and later a #12 on the Hot 100 with 6 remixes, 4 covers, 1 CD and 0 radio. Running Wild has 7 remixes, 4 covers, 2 CDs and was sent to radio on the first week but you know it won't even see the top half of the chart (if it even enters it at all). And that's not to mention my girl Like Crazy getting a #1 with 5 dollars and a dream. Running Wild will be lower on it's first week than Like Crazy was on it's second and that's what we call karma. The only thing Happy has over Muse is global physical sales. But no wait, Face has more than both and it was Jimin's actual debut album like Happy is Jin's. And both Face and Muse got #2 on billboard 200 while Happy is not even predicted to get a top 5. So yeah, Jin has literally nothing over Jimin.

And I love this actually. I want every member to get everything Jimin got so they can see exactly what the difference between them and Jimin is. The fans of those 5 have been telling themselves that they could achieve everything Jimin did and more if only they were given the same tools and promotion Jimin got. And I want to see it, I want to see they do what Jimin did. I'll even be nice and not include the sabotage Jimin got, they can try to match him without that. I want to see them try and inevitably fail. And I know their fans will come up with excuses nonetheless but I still want to see it.

The only advantage Jimin actually has compared to hyungline is fan support. But unlike Jungkook Jimin's didn't have the company prime the fandom to be his fans. Every fan Jimin has he gained through his blood, sweet and tears (pun fully intend because the number of fans Jimin got with BST cannot be overstated). We all know armys don't fuck with the rapline but Jin is a vocal line member so if he didn't capture people's attention like Jimin did that's no one's fault but his own. Unless you wanna say it's not Hybe, but instead God who favors Jimin and gave him more talent than Jin, which fair enough, Jimin is in fact God's favorite child. And while Taehyung is popular that popularity comes from visual stans and shippers and we all know how well that popularity translated to his music, and by that I mean that it didn't, man is getting outdone by Jin, I would be embarrassed. And Jungkook (who's fanbase consists exclusively of visual stans, shippers, y/ns and psychopaths) would've faced a similar fate if the company didn't work for him harder then they did for even the group. I have said it before and I'll say it again, Jimin has and will always be the only member who's music and performances people actually care about.

.🎯

#that fifth paragraph #my exact thoughts verbatim #wait not me finding out he has 3 versions of RW??

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lycheeloving · 10 months ago

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Another multiverse yandere!Bruce fic, with special guest the Flash! It kind of got away from me and Bruce isn't even in this a lot... but I still love it tbh

again, i imagine this being at a time where you've been with Bruce for some time and have mostly accepted that you won't be getting away from him

Once again warning for typical yandere stuff, kidnapping, implied past noncon, minors dni. Oh and gn reader!

You're in the Batcave, sitting on Bruce's lap while he's typing away on his Batcomputer, researching something. He's in full Batman costume, which is hard and uncomfortable to sit on, but at least you're only sitting there and "warming him up" (as he puts it), instead of cockwarming him. Gotta be grateful for the little things. Actually, it's more like he's warming you up, because the suit must be warmer than what you're wearing (which isn't a lot), but, whatever, same difference.

At some point he pushes you off, stands up, growls out a "Don't touch anything, I'll be back soon," and proceeds to rush out of the cave in the Batmobile. Did he just leave you alone in the cave? Right next to all of his gadgets and the supercomputer?? You consider trying to contact the outside world for a second before coming to the conclusion that this must be a test, no way is he leaving you here alone if there's actually a way for you to get help! Probably.

Right as you've decided not to touch anything, the screen starts flashing with: "Incoming Video Call: Batman". What? Is he seriously calling you now? He's definitely trying to trick you into touching something, just so he'll have an excuse to punish you. No way are you falling for that! You're absolutely not going to push the button that would accept the call, even though it's glowing so enticingly... Also, what if he really needs your help (even though you have no clue what you could do to help Batman) and will punish you for not answering? Or better yet, he's seriously injured and you'll get to watch him die. That thought gets you to accept the video call.

...That's not Batman.

You stare at the guy who called you, and he's staring right back at you, seemingly just as confused as you are. Is that the Flash?? Isn't he supposed to be dead?

"...You're not Batman," he mumbles mostly to himself, then starts talking a bit louder. "I mean, I guess you could be Batman? I just was expecting you to look like more like my Batman. Not that he's my Batman, just, the Batman from my universe, I mean. Sorry. Are you Batman? You could totally be Batman, and just not be wearing the suit at the moment!"

"...I'm not ...Batman, he's... out, right now. You're the Flash, right? How are you- Why did it say Batman was calling? Wait, what do you mean by your universe??" This is too much information for you to process at the same time.

"Oh! Um, I'm from a parallel universe! Bruce somehow got his computer to be able to contact people in other universes and I'm pretty sure he built a portal thing, too... Anyways, I'm in the Batcave right now because Bruce is still on his way back and sent me ahead to call you, or, well, your Batman, to 'save some time', but I guess that was useless because Batman isn't here..." He stops rambling for a second, before adding: "Also I'm beginning to think Bruce just wanted to get rid of me, nothing we're doing currently is that time sensitive, and-"

"Wait, back up, did you say portal?" You cut him off before he can start monologuing again, sniffing an opportunity for escape. "Hypothetically, if someone were to go through that portal, could they stay in the other universe indefinitely, or would the universe or the person that went through the portal start falling apart or something...?"

"I don't think there's any issues with staying in a parallel universe! It's pretty cool, actually, the-" He stops himself from saying anything else. "Wait, who are you? I probably shouldn't be telling you all this. Are you, like, in a relationship with Bats? I mean, who else could get into the cave. And you're not wearing villain-who-broke-into-Batmans-lair clothes... or sidekick clothes..." He mumbles the last part to himself.

You can't stop staring at him. Just who is this guy? In spite of the weirdness of the situation it's actually really refreshing to be able to talk to someone who isn't completely stoic all the time (and hasn't kidnapped you). "I guess relationship is the most accurate? I mean, being kidnapped, locked up and kept as a fucktoy is a type of relationship, right?"

You say it as nonchalantly as possible, watching for his reaction to see if he thinks kidnapping people is normal, but it's looking good for you, because he's gaping like a fish out of water. "Y- Youre- by Batman? Bruce? That's- I don't-" He stutters, before awkwardly chuckling. "Ohhh, you're joking, right? You got me good, I almost believed you... Ha ha..." He doesn't seem entirely convinced.

You stare at him unblinkingly. What must his Batman be like for him not to believe you? Certainly nicer than yours. "Look, believe whatever you want, but could you do me a favor and open that portal? Bruce said he'd be back soon and I'd rather not be here when that happens, because he told me not to touch anything and instead of listening to him I answered your video call. He'll be super mad at me. Oh and this is the only real chance of escape I've ever gotten so I'd like to take it, please."

Something about the way you said it must have convinced him to believe you, as he mutters a quiet "...Alright," and before you can blink, he skids to a halt behind you through the already opened portal. Well, at least there's no doubt about him being the Flash, that was fast!

"Whew, that portal thing was harder to activate than I thought!" Thank god for super speed, you didn't even realize he was struggling with it. "So, um, what now? Do you just... come with me to the other Batcave?"

You look at him with stars in your eyes. Is this what it's like to be rescued by a superhero? You could cry, are you actually going to escape? No, not yet, you might trust him, but what about the other Batman in his universe?

"Sorry, just, are you sure your Batman isn't, like, secretly evil? Not keeping anyone locked up in his stupid manor?" He shakes his head vigorously. "I'm sure! He wouldn't- I know him, he would never even think about kidnapping anyone! And I definitely would know if there was someone locked in his manor, I've run through every room in his place way too often as to not have noticed someone trapped in there. He's a good guy, just, kind of stoic. And he hates fun. But he wouldn't hurt a fly! You know, unless it's an evil fly that needs to be stopped..."

Hm. Yeah, your Batman definitely hurts you sometimes and you're 99% sure you're not a supervillain or otherwise evil. "That sounds... convincing enough." You remember your shock bracelet and gesture towards it. "Um, could you please take this off of me first, before we go? It shocks me as soon as it detects that I've left the manor, and I don't want to find out if a parallel universe manor counts..."

He tries his best not to look as shocked as he feels while he inspects it carefully, then goes: "Um, wait a second, let me just-". He disappears and reappears in a flash. "So, I checked to see if maybe there's a manual for this thing somewhere, but I couldn't find anything. So I went through the entire manor, and guess what else I didn't find... Alfred!!" You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "I guess that's what made your Batman so unhinged, sometimes I think Alfred is the only thing left standing between Batman and utter darkness..." This Alfred guy must be a total ray of sunshine then, you can't wait to meet him.

"So, what are we going to do about the shock bracelet, then? I'd rather not be in pain the entire time, but if you can't get it off that's still fine, as long as I can come with you..." "Oh, um, let me just-" Again, faster than you can blink he does something and the bracelet falls away from your wrist. Unfortunately, right as it hits the floor, an alarm goes off in the cave. Shit. You both grimace at each other, you should have know that the bracelet would send some kind of signal to Bruce as soon as it's no longer connected to you.

"Can you somehow disable his portal-making machine so he can't immediately follow us? Because I think we should leave right now, he's probably on his way back already!" You immediately go through the portal, not wanting to wait any longer. Even if Bruce can follow you, you'll have people protecting you on the other side. You think you can hear the Batmobile returning. Shit.

"Yeah, I should be able to-" You close your eyes and when you open them again, the portal to your universe is gone. A weight falls off your shoulders. "I messed with some wires on the other side, which closed the portal, but I was able to get back here just in time before it fully closed. He shouldn't be able to follow us. At least not immediately, he probably knows how to fix it, but this should buy us some time."

"Thank you so much. And I'm glad you made it back, I wouldn't want you to end up like the other Flash..." You sigh in relief. "The- What? What happened to the other Flash??" "Oh! Um, he's dead." You grimace sheepishly. "Sorry, that must be weird to hear."

His face goes pale. "You know what? I'm not even gonna ask what happened to him. I don't want to know. No, wait, I do want to know, how did he- No, don't tell me, whatever I say, do not tell me what happened to him."

You go to respond, but are interrupted by a sudden, loud: "Flash! Who is that?"

You flinch at the sound of his voice and turn around to face him. The Batman. Bruce Wayne. He only sounds like that when he's really angry. Your entire body screams at you to run and hide, or better yet, to apologize and beg. You've learned that hiding from him is pointless. He always finds you, and it only makes things worse. You freeze and stare at him with wide eyes, while he eyes you suspiciously. It's not him, you remind yourself. It's not him. He just looks the same.

He stops looking at you and turns to Flash instead. "You were supposed to contact the other Batman, not kidnap some terrified civilian." The Flash looks insulted for a second, before responding with an indignant: "Actually, I'm not the one who kidnapped them!". Batman narrows his eyes, then sighs. "Just explain why you thought it was a good idea to let a stranger into the Batcave."

You take half a step behind Flash before he begins explaining. "Turns out your other Batman kept them locked up! Your source for information and help is a kidnapper! Why are you even working with that guy? Did you know?" To his credit, Batman actually looks guilty after hearing that. "I didn't know, but I have to admit, I didn't look into him as much as I could have. Should have. Usually I look into every single detail of someone's life before working with them, but him looking and acting exactly like me must have made me lower my guard. It won't happen again, I assure you." He looks at you apologetically. Well, as apologetic as the Batman can look, which isn't very much, mostly he just looks stoic. But still, not an expression you've ever seen on your Batman, nor something he would ever say. You calm down a bit. This guy won't hurt you.

"So, um, is there anything we can do to stop him from following us?" You speak up quietly. "I mean, Flash messed with his portal machine or whatever it's called, but that won't stop him forever! He's obsessed with me, he won't just give up!" You start panicking again, maybe you were wrong to think you could ever be free.

"We'll think of something, I promise. We'll keep you safe. You have the whole Justice League on your side." The Flash nods in agreement to Batmans statement. You tentatively start feeling hopeful again, even if this doesn't work out, you'll at least have gotten a taste of freedom.

#sorry for the abrupt ending and also if some of this doesn't make sense 🙏#wait no I'll stop apologizing for my writing. Hope you have as much fun reading as I had writing this!!#yandere batman #batman x reader #yandere batfam #yandere #x reader #reader insert #yandere dc #lycheewritings #yandere!batman #yandere bruce wayne #yandere!bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #dark!bruce wayne #dark!batman #dark bruce wayne #dark batman

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oddballwriter · 26 days ago

Text

Daily Bite

Summary: You take up a job with a trashy celebrity newspaper to go undercover under a housekeeper for a mysterious tycoon family who never lets the public eye see them just outside of Chicago. Your job is simple: collect information and send it back to the company to publish. But it seems like things are stranger than you originally thought they were going to be.

Warnings: Vampire au. No gore happens here, but if this gets enough love, then the story will progress, and there might be a few cases of that in future parts. Gender-neutral reader, no mention of pronouns or any type of anatomy. This whole thing is very pilot-y.

Author’s Snip: Here I go again with my vampires lol. Will I ever finish a series? Who knows. But now this is here and I want to know if you guys are game.

Notes: This whole thing is what I'm going to call a Pilot-Fic. Basically, this is a thought that's been rattling inside of my head, and I want to do it, but I want to see if you guys are interested. So this is basically going to be a teaser and pilot for it to possibly get green-lit by you guys. At the end, I'll put a poll and you guys can choose if you want this to continue.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 2,876

Taglist:

You were a journalist who was as broke as bricks. That's how you ended up with this incognito job working for a trashy celebrity press company. This isn't where you had thought you'd be in your life when you studied and majored in journalism, but it was better than having nothing. It wasn't anything personal to who you were sent to spy on; the company was just offering you a fat stack, and your contract had it stated that this was your only job and then you're free, and also they’re able to cover your tracks on who you are so that you’re not identified once everything goes public. So, the only dirt on your hands will just be morally.

Anyhow, your job revolved around an interesting, albeit strange, tycoon family, the Spectors, who’s managed to successfully stay out of the public eye for nearly two centuries now based in the outskirts of Chicago. You aren’t too sure what they’re a tycoon of, but the press company made it very clear that they were very lucrative and secretive about themselves. Locking themselves in their large mansion and even larger estate away from the eyes of the world and doing all their business there. The only people allowed to see or be near them are the staff employed on their estate and a handful of outsiders who do whatever task they’re given and then immediately kicked out, each and every single one of them having to sign nondisclosure agreements and getting buried in cease and desist letters and threats of lawsuits to any who dare say a thing about them.

Thankfully, you aren’t too in the dark as to who’s living in that big old mansion. According to the sparse few who have said something, there are three men who are all identical triplets and are heirs to the family business and wealth, but seemingly all agree to keep to the estate and never go out. Their names are Marc, Steven, and Jake, most likely being juniors and sharing the same names as the other pair of triplet sons from the Spector family before they randomly became closed off to the world.

Not much is known about them other than that those giving the information either got buried in legal papers or chose to shut up. Everything else is in the walls of the mansion and the sealed mouths of the staff.

But that’s where you come in.

There were two job openings for housekeeping and cleaners that the company managed to catch and send to you. You applied, and you managed to get the job. The only thing is, you would have to pack up and move into the mansion since the only job is listed as a live-in. That was fine, though, you’d still be getting paid by the owners, have a roof over your head, and food, so you would have to find a place to rent and try and supply yourself with groceries. So you packed up what you had and headed off for Chicago and the Spector estate.

However, it seems like the universe wanted to give you a bit of comeuppance though. The press company wanted you to arrive a few days early so that “they don’t have time to hide anything”, but the day that you made it to Chicago it was bucketing rain and you still needed to get to the estate in the outskirts. You did pack an umbrella, but it wasn’t doing much good in these conditions.

You decide that the best way to get there is a taxi. Thankfully, just as soon as you signal for one, one comes shortly after. The driver rolls down the window; you can’t see him too well due to the screen between the driver and passenger seat, but you can hear him clearly when he asks where you’re heading. You tell him, and he says he knows how to get there. You then pay him upfront to save you from having to pay when you get there since you’ll have to take your luggage out of the trunk too.

Sliding into the back seat, you find that he’s also got the screen between the front and back of the car, still obscuring him from being seen properly by you, coupled with his driver's hat and coat. It doesn’t really matter to you. You’re just happy to get a break from that god-awful rain for now.

“This money better be worth it.” you quietly grumble to yourself as the driver takes off.

Along the drive he starts conversation with you. Nothing too big, just casual small talk.

“So what’s over there for you at the old Spector place?” he asks. “I got a job there,” you answer simply. He lets out a ‘huh’ as a response. “Not a lot of those in there.” he says before adding, “They rarely let new people in. You must be lucky to have gotten that job, huh?”. You shrug, “I guess so. It was the last application I made.”.

“You having trouble with finding jobs?” he questions.

“Yeah. Not much out there for someone like me, I suppose,” you answer.

“What’s your expertise?” the driver asks.

You hesitate to answer at first before landing on a half-truth, “Journalism. But I gave up on that. All the good stuff is taken already.” you say. “Journalism,” the driver echoes back. “Why do you say all the good jobs are taken? I’m sure someone’s looking for a journalist out there?” he says after a moment. You sigh and answer in a mumble, “Well, I didn’t find any.” as you thought about your current job.

“But I guess working as a live-in housekeeper isn’t too bad of an in-between job.” the driver says, which catches your attention and makes you confused. “I never said what I was going there for,” you say in your confession. The driver notices your apprehension and says, “Lucky guess. Most people who get a job there are there to be housekeeping.” with a nonchalant attitude. That shook off your confusion, and you shrugged back with your own remark, “Well then, I’m no different.”.

After a brief silence, the driver speaks again with a strange question.

“You’re not scared, are you?”.

“Why would I be scared?” you question.

“People like to tell scary stories about that place. Talking about how they never seem to leave that old place and don’t talk to anyone and making up all kinds of stuff.” the driver says.

“What kind of stuff?” you ask.

You can hear a sort of humor in the drivers voice as he talks, like what he’s saying is like some big joke to him.

“All kinds of stuff. Like how the mansion’s haunted and that there’s all this mystery about the family, why they just randomly closed off to the public centuries ago and haven’t left since, and all sorts of stuff. Some people like to say that the original family never actually grew old and died to leave everything to their descendants and that they’re actually vampires living amongst themselves.”.

You psshh at the thought of that. You had actually heard that crazy theory before while researching what there was a record of about the family after taking this job, but you knew that it wasn’t real. You had heard that the three sons started acting off all the way back before hermitting themselves, but it was known that their parents died very suddenly and that it was possibly a mourning thing that they never left that phase and that the rest of the generations kept to for whatever reason.

Other than the records predating the 1840s, you found nothing. Except for one source talking about medical history that made it known that the two first of the triplets, Marc and Steven Sr., were born slightly conjoined at the hip and had some health issues around that. You aren’t too sure why you remembered that one morbid fact, but it was there and might be worth something.

The rest of your ride was filled with more small talk and the occasional look outside the window.

Still pouring.

You eventually reach the outskirts and into a dense area of trees that completely hide the city as if it was never even there, after a bit longer, you eventually reach a gravel road with a big metal gate with tall stone walls up ahead that hide the other side except for a roof of the mansion off in the distance that just manages to peak over the walls into your line of sight.

"You need help getting all your stuff up there? The walk up to the place is longer than it looks." the driver offers, "No extra charge." he adds. You nod and thank him for being willing to lend you a hand as you prepare yourself to get out of the cab.

The gate just happens to already be open, so you don't need to buzz for someone to come get it if there even is a buzzer anywhere.

You take a few of your lighter bags and make the hike up the rest of the gravel path with the driver behind you. So you look back for him, you feel a bit bad since he's walking with no umbrella, with his hat and coat being his only protection from the rain and seemingly having to tilt his head down to keep his face dry, so you go back towards him and share your umbrella with him.

"Oh, don't worry about me." he laughs, "I've been through worse," he says. "I don't want you to get sick," you say. "I don't get sick. But thanks for the concern." the driver responds.

As you walk, the mansion seems to get bigger and bigger and taller the closer you get. It also doesn't help that its dark color pallet is dulled out and looks unmaintained, making it look spooky and straight out of Halloween concept art. No wonder people say it's haunted. It looks haunted. Even the front door is bigger than you once you reach it.

You set down your bags to have a free hand to knock. It takes a while and a few more knocks, but eventually, someone opens it up a bit to see who's there. You peek your head in a bit to see a stout older woman who has grey streaks in her hair already and wrinkles that emphasize her bothered expression.

"No solicitors." she says before you can even get a hello in.

"I'm not a solicitor," you say before you introduce yourself and say that you're here to be one of the new housekeepers.

"You're here three days early." she scowls.

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience," you apologize. "Something came up, and I had to come early and couldn't get a room anywhere here till it was time for me to arrive. I tried to contact someone, but the only option was a letter. I guess the mail is slower right now." you lie. Not fully. The only way to contact is by letter was true, and the job offer was actually via a personal ad in the paper. But you never sent a damn letter.

The lady eyes you up suspiciously for a bit before seemingly taking it while grumbling "No one ever tells me anything.".

"You came all the way up here all by yourself?" she questions.

"Oh, no. A driver helped me with getting my bags up-" you explain as you turn to look at the driver, but when you look, he's gone. You look around for him, but you don't see him walking down the pathway or even his cab where the gate is anymore. You turn back to the woman and finish your sentence, "There was a taxi driver who helped me get my bags up here.".

The maid just opens the door and lets you in, saying, "Alright. Get in here before you get any more wet.".

Stepping inside, the maid closes the door behind you and tells you to stay there as she goes off somewhere in the house, which gives you time to get a look at this place.

You find it's a lot bigger on the inside, if that's even possible. There's a large indoor mat at the door that takes up most of the entrance area. The whole foyer up ahead has more space than most people do for their houses, with two old-style grand staircases going up the sides that take you up to the rest of the floors. There are three main hallways that you can see. One on each side of the house just where the bottoms of the stairs end, and one in front of you under where the two staircases meet. This place is just as spooky looking on the inside as it is on the outside too. The lighting is cool-toned, making the place look a bit blue even though some lights are trying their hardest to light the place up. It's also deafly quiet; the only thing you can hear is the echo of the old woman's footsteps along the polished hard floor, but she's far enough away that they've become faint. You can also hear a muffled conversation somewhere within the house, but all the walls that might be between you and whoever is talking make it unknown to you. But as you listen closely, you manage to make out what seems to be three separate voices.

You hear footsteps coming to where you are and see that it's the maid coming back to get you. She gestures for you to follow her and takes you down one of the hallways on the side of the house.

"You're lucky that we just cleaned out the room that you'll be living in while you work here," she remarks. "I'm really sorry about the early arrival. If I had known, then I would have found some way to wait until the day I was meant to come," you claim. The lady humphs back before saying, "I don't like having to repeat myself, but since you're here and your other new co-worker isn't, I'll have to make due.".

"You're the head maid?" you ask.

"Yes." the lady responds quickly, sounding annoyed before she continues.

"We'll do this," she proclaims, "You spend today settling into your room. Tomorrow, I'll give you a brief tour around the house. And the day after that, your co-worker should arrive sometime in the day. After that, I show you both how to do things around here while giving them their tour." she explains. "Got it?" she asks demandingly.

"Got it." you echo.

It was at that point that you two reach a corridor full of nothing but doors where you two stop at one. The head maid pushes open the door to reveal a relatively nice but quaint room. It looks like a very small hotel room, with only a twin-sized-looking bed, a small nightstand, and a little desk with an even smaller-looking personal bathroom. You were expecting something more cramped and a bit dehumanizing, but this was actually really nice. A bit banged up in a few spots, but it was pretty nice compared to the rooms you'd heard about concerning live-in jobs.

"This will be your room from now on." the head maid says as she places a single key in your hand, "This is your key to it." she tells you. She then points a finger right in your face as she orders you, "Do not lose it. If you do, then we have to get all the locks redone.".

"I'll protect it with my life." you joke as you promise to keep it on you, but she just huffs. "The staff have designated breakfast, lunch, and dinner times. Lunch is in an hour and a half. Dinner is at six." she says as she begins to walk away.

You try to ask where exactly you're meant to go for your meals, but she seems to have caught on by herself and says, "Staff's dining room is down the center hallway from where you came in and is the second to last door on the left.", she also adds "You can eat in your rooms too if you want, just don't make a mess. And if you do, clean it up.".

You take a mental note of that and take all your things into your room, shutting the door. You put everything in its place and proceed to take out your pocket journal and pen that you plan on using as you collect information.

"Just arrived at the mansion. This place is already giving me the creeps look-wise. Took a cab here. The driver was friendly but didn't tell me much about the family other than the stories and theories I'd already heard. Met the head maid, was really rude, didn't catch her or the driver's names. The head maid says that she'll give me a tour tomorrow. Waiting for the other new person to come before we actually start working. I'll see if I notice anything out of place on my tour. Haven't seen any of the three owners, yet. My room's nice though."

#moon knight #moonknight #moon knight x reader #moonknight x reader #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #vampire au

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