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daisynik7 · 11 months

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Sweet Like Honey

Chapter 1: The First Time

Pairing: Nanami x f!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~4.1k

cw: established relationship, fluff, smut – PIV sex (missionary), nipple play, clitoral stimulation, sex without a condom, creampie, pet names

Summary: Nanami invites you to his place for the first time, where he offers to cook you dinner, which leads to a night of many other firsts.

Author's Notes: I originally wrote these spicy side stories for A Bento For Kento last year and I'm just now getting around to editing/rewriting some of it to match more of my current style! I hope you like it, thank you for reading! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

Sweet Like Honey Masterlist | Next Chapter

Being inside Nanami’s apartment for the first time makes you nervous for some reason. Maybe it’s the feeling of being in somebody’s personal space that makes you uneasy. You like this man, of course, but there’s still so much you don’t know about him. It’s only been two weeks since you started dating. Two weeks since your first and second kiss at the street food festival. With Ren still living with you at home, it’s been difficult to find time to be alone with Nanami.

Until tonight.

He offers to make dinner, which is already such a huge turn on for you. The smell coming from the kitchen is intoxicating. You can’t recall the last time that someone cooked a meal from scratch to serve to you. There’s yearning in the pit of your stomach. Is it hunger caused by the aroma of the food? Or desire for the man currently preparing the food? It’s both, definitely both.

You’re currently sitting on the couch with a glass of red wine in hand, classical music playing on his stereo in the background. You don’t expect anything less from him, already so smitten by the classy Kento Nanami. You sneak a glance at him in the kitchen, admiring the black apron he’s wearing over a blue dress shirt and his usual spotted tie. He looks extremely attractive right now. In fact, he is extremely attractive. Feeling increasingly nervous each passing minute, you chug your liquor before standing up to walk into the kitchen. He takes his focus away from the pan to look at you, asking, “Need anything?”

“I was actually coming here to ask you the same question,” you respond with a small smile.

“I’m almost done. Just want the sauce to thicken up a bit more.” He eyes your empty glass. “Need a refill?”

You hold it out to him, nodding. “Yes, please.”

He pours the bottle, filling it halfway. Without a word, you tip it into your mouth, taking three large gulps to swallow it down. From your peripheral, you catch Nanami watching you curiously.

Why are you freaking out right now? You’re with your boyfriend, who has been nothing but kind, gentle, and sweet to you. But tonight, you are hyper aware that it’s just the two of you, alone inside his swanky apartment, the bedroom just a few feet away.

It’s just dinner, you remind yourself. This doesn’t guarantee that the two of you will have sex tonight. Besides, why are you thinking about sex to begin with? Get your mind out of the gutter. He invited you here for dinner, nothing more. However, there’s no denying that it’s been on your mind. You nearly pounced on him at the street food festival. Every night, you replay the memory of his touch; his gentle hand on your cheek, his warm mouth on yours. How his lips feel against the skin of your wrist. The way his jaw clenches when he’s trying to hold back. You want to feel that again. You want more.

You’ve seen each other a couple more times after that night, either out in public or at your house with Ren. And with your protective younger brother always keeping an eye out, your goodnight kisses have been tame, a little too tame, if you’re being honest. To say you’ve been eager for this alone time with him is an understatement. Despite this, you can’t help being a tad nervous. Will you two be compatible in the bedroom? Are there any weird kinks he’s into? Is he okay with the kinks that you’re into? These questions won’t be answered all in one night, so there’s no use in stressing about it when sex isn’t even on the table yet. You’re only focus tonight should be to enjoy this delicious home-cooked meal courtesy of your super hot boyfriend and let everything play out the way it should.

“Go ahead and sit. I’ll serve you.” You snap out of your reverie at the sound of his voice and take a seat at the dining table, taking the bottle of wine with you. Soon, he appears with two steaming plates in hand, setting one in front of you and the other at his spot next to you. “Carbonara and garlic bread. This is my favorite meal to cook,” he says, sitting down and filling his glass.

“This smells and looks incredible. I’m so impressed!” you beam at him, eyes glowing with admiration.

“That’s a huge compliment, coming from you,” he responds, smiling.

“Pasta is not a specialty of mine. You’ll have to teach me one day.”

“Sounds like a good date idea. Let’s plan that soon.”

You twirl your fork around the noodles for the perfect bite. It’s still piping hot off the plate. When it hits your tongue, your taste buds sing. The sauce is perfectly creamy with just the right amount of cheese and pepper flavor. The salt from the crisp bits of pancetta adds enough flavor without being too overpowering. The noodles are al-dente, just the way you like it. Everything together creates a luxurious, well-balanced dish. Even the garlic bread is delicious; he roasted the garlic beforehand, surrounding the apartment with one of your favorite scents. “Delicious. Absolutely delicious. It tastes even better than it looks, and it looks incredible.”

“Now you’re just exaggerating,” he says, a faint blush on his cheeks.

“No, Nanami. It’s seriously amazing. Thank you for cooking this for me.” You take another big forkful, closing your eyes and making small noises of satisfaction. He doesn’t speak, a small smile on his face smile as he eats his own food, occasionally glancing at you to make sure you’re still enjoying the meal. The silence isn’t awkward; it feels comfortable. Both of you indulging in delicious food and great company.

When you’ve scraped your plate clean with your last piece of garlic bread, you finish the rest of your wine, letting out happy sigh as you rub your belly. Nanami finishes soon after and stands up to take the plates into the kitchen. You follow, offering, “Let me wash the dishes! It’s the least I could do after you’ve fed me.”

“I’ll put them in the dishwasher, don’t worry.”

You lean against the countertop, helping him load the dishwasher. After the cycle stars, he steps towards you, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

“Thank you for dinner. Seriously. That was so delicious,” you say, peering up at him.

“You know that I already like you, right?” he chuckles, planting another smooch on you. “You don’t have to keep flattering me.”

“I’m just being honest! That was one of the best meals I’ve ever had! But I’m obviously biased because I already like you too,” you tease, winking. From behind him, you suddenly notice something on his fridge. Curious, you walk up to it. It’s the bento box notes you wrote him, hung up by magnets, each one wrinkled from wear and tear. Smiling, you ask, “You hung them up on your fridge?

He stands beside you, arm brushing yours. “Of course. They keep me going throughout the week.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, beaming at him. “You are the sweetest man, you know that?” You kiss, his hands sliding to your waist, pulling you in closer. The fact that he still has those notes, now hung up on his fridge like artwork, makes your heart swell. How is this man even real? And how are you lucky enough to have him as your boyfriend?

He pulls away from the kiss, voice wavering just the slightest. “Should we move to the couch?”

Heat creeps into your face as he leads you into the living room. Is the wine getting to you? Or is it your nerves? You’re the one who initiated the kiss, so why are you surprised that he wants to move it to the couch?! There’s no way he wants to get it on right now; you just ate. Isn’t there a rule about waiting thirty minutes after you eat, or does that only apply to swimming?

You both sit on the catch, knees touching, holding hands. He gazes at you lovingly, even as you try to avoid his gaze. “Are you okay? You seem a little distracted.” He brushes your cheek with his thumb, his touch giving you the flutters below your stomach.

“I’m fine,” you lie, totally flustered now.

“Are you sure?” He brings your hand up to his lips, placing soft kisses between your knuckles. Oh no, your absolute weakness.

“I guess I’m just a little nervous,” you admit.

“What are you nervous about?”

You let out a timid laugh. “I don’t know. I’m just being weird.”

He stops kissing to study you. “You can be honest with me. Please tell me what’s on your mind.”

Taking a deep breath, you explain, “I want to get some things out in the open. Make sure we’re both on the same page.”

There’s a worried glint in his eyes. “Okay.”

Another deep breath. “So, um. Sex. I want to have sex. With you. Do you…I mean, would you like that, too? Is that, um, something you want to do with me?”

You can see a small grin forming on his lips, but he immediately goes back to a neutral expression to answer, “Yes. Very much so.”

Cheeks burning, you reply, “Okay. That’s…good to know.” You clear your throat before posing the next question. “Have…have you been tested recently? I’m sorry to ask this, I just want to make sure we’re practicing safe sex.”

Calmly, he says, “I got tested two weeks ago as soon as we started dating. Everything is good.” Before you can continue, he adds, “And don’t apologize for asking that. That’s a very valid question.”

You nod, easing up a bit. “I got tested a few months ago when I last saw my gynecologist. And I’m also good. I haven’t had sex since then, so yeah. I’m good. We’re good.”

“Good.”

There’s a moment of silence as you properly process this conversation. Why were you so anxious? You should have known that talking to Nanami like this would be easy, considering how mature he is.

“Oh! Also, I’m on birth control. Just FYI. In case you were wondering,” you blurt out.

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” he says, a kind expression on his face. Butterflies flutter in your stomach at the way he looks at you.

Finally relaxed, you say, “Okay, I think that’s all I wanted to talk about. Thank you.”

“Thank you for opening up to me.” He places his hand on yours, caressing you with his thumb.

You ask, “Do you have any questions for me?” He shakes his head no. You continue. “I’m sorry if this is awkward. I just want to make sure we go about this the right way.” The fluster on your face is definitely noticeable; there’s no hiding it now.

His smile brightens as he scoots closer to you. “You’re too cute, you know that?”

At that, you let out another giggle, glancing down at your lap, shy for an entirely different reason now.

“I really like you. You have no idea,” he whispers, breath warm on your ear. When did he get so close? Your heart pounds like crazy, enough that he can probably hear it.

Attempting to lighten the mood, you joke, “You still like me after all that interrogation?”

“I think I like you even more now.” There’s lust dripping in his voice. “Can I kiss you?”

Without saying another word, you lean in, pressing your lips to his. The kiss starts slow and gentle. His hand cups your face, thumb grazing your cheekbone, reminding you vividly of your first kiss. How the sounds of the festival were drowned out by the thumping of your heartbeat. Now, the classical music playing in the background is muted by the wet noises your lips make against Nanami’s mouth. His other hand slides up your thigh, fingers dangerously close to the arousal between your legs. The first time, he was holding back. This time, he’s not. He wants you.

He pulls your head back gently, lips trailing down your neck, sucking on your skin where it’s most sensitive. As if he knows exactly where to touch you to stimulate every nerve in your body. He slides under your blouse, fingers grazing the bulge of your belly. Feeling insecure, you grab his wrist and push his hand away. He stops to ask, “What’s wrong?”

“I just…I just ate, so I’m a bit bloated,” you confess. “Feeling a little self-conscious.”

With another kind expression, he says, “I understand. I won’t touch you there.” He returns to your thigh, kissing your neck once more, traveling up to your ear to whisper, “You are beautiful. I hope one day you’ll let me worship every part of your gorgeous body.”

Your insecurity is quickly overtaken by the need to feel him on every inch of your bare skin. Without thinking, you take his hand and slip it beneath your blouse, allowing him to touch you there now. Why did you even bother trying to resist him?

He laughs softly. “Good girl.”

Hearing him utter those words as he touches has your pussy throbbing. There’s nothing else on your mind except feeling him all over you. Feeling him inside you. He squeezes your breast, his thumb flicking your nipple over the fabric of your bra.

“Want to move into the bedroom?”

Without a second thought, you answer, “Yes.”

~~~

Fingers entwined with hers, he takes her into his room, watching as she lies on his king-sized bed. He straddles her, hands at the hem of her shirt. “Can I undress you?”

She nods, sitting up to help him strip her, her upper body exposed except for the bra covering her breasts. He doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable; he can tell she’s a bit nervous, despite the obvious desire in her eyes. Most importantly, he wants this to be an enjoyable experience. “Is it okay if I take your bra off?”

She gulps loudly before breathing out, “Yes.”

He wraps his arms around her, fingers grasping for the clasp. She kisses him hastily, lightly nipping at his lower lip, his dick growing stiffer inside his pants. She reaches for him, palming his strained cock until he’s uncomfortable hard against the fabric. When her bra finally comes lose, he tugs it off her body, tossing it to the floor, admiring her bare bosom.

“Can I suck on your nipples?” he huffs, his patience wearing thin. “Do you like that?”

“Yes, I really like that.”

She really likes it, she says. Good to know. He squeezes her breast, sucking on her nipple. His free hand massages the other, pinching it lightly until he it’s perky against his fingertips. He circles his thumb around it as he continues to work her tits, making lewd noises as he releases her with a wet pop, only to latch onto her again, sucking harder. She moans, his cock twitching with every erotic sound that comes out of her salacious mouth.

Nipple plump on his tongue, he moves to the other one, sucking until she squirms beneath him, whimpering in pleasure. Still completely clothed, he loosens his tie and unbuttons his shirt, stripping until he’s naked from the waist up. Her fingers trail his abs, then down to the skin right above the hem of his pants. Once she unbuckles his belt, he slides out of his pants until he is clad only in his briefs, her focus on the obvious bulge protruding from his underwear. She undresses, keeping just her panties on. He leans over to kiss her passionately, letting his hands explore her body freely, cherishing every soft curve of her glorious figure.

He’s been dreaming about this. Ever since their first kiss, he’s thought about her every night. The way she tastes on his lips. How soft her skin is on his rough hands. He would fantasize about the different positions they would try, the sounds she would make if he ever got the chance to pleasure her. Every second they spend together, his feelings for her grow stronger and stronger. He’s never felt like this with anyone else. That’s why he doesn’t want to screw it up. He wants nothing more than to pleasure her, make her feel comfortable and safe with him.

He breaks away to catch his breath. “Is this okay?”

She smiles, cupping his cheek. “Yes. This is more than okay.”

“We don’t have to go any further, we can stop here,” he suggests. He really doesn’t want to, but he will if she does.

“Do you want to stop?” There’s a naughty look in her eyes, as if she’s teasing him.

“No.”

“Neither do I.”

Electricity surges through his body, ready to burst. His fingers reach for her panties, rubbing her clit through the cloth. “Can I touch you here?”

“Yes, Nanami. Fuck.”

His cock twitches at the sound of her cursing. This is one his fantasies, hearing filthy words come out her sweet, innocent mouth. He slips his middle finger past the fabric, sliding it up and down her wet folds, circling her clit, cock rigid underneath his briefs. Feeling her like this is better than he ever imagined. A dream come true.

“Show me. I want to see how big you are for me,” she purrs into his ear.

His eyes widen at her suggestion. Fuck. He won’t be able to last if she keeps saying things like this in her sexy voice. He shoves his briefs down his thighs, letting his hard cock flop against his abdomen.

“Fuck, Nanami. You’re so big. Can’t wait to feel you inside me.”

Losing his composure, he mutters, “Fuck, baby. Are you sure this is okay?”

“Yes, sweetie.”

He lets out a huff. “Okay. I can’t believe we’re really doing this.” He reaches for his nightstand, grabbing a condom and lube from the drawer. When she sees him opening the packet, she grabs his wrist. “You don’t have to put that on. I’m on birth control, remember?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I want to feel you come inside me.”

“Fuck.” He pours lube onto his palm, stroking his erection. She watches hungrily as he positions himself at her wet slit, guiding it in smoothly, her pussy clenching him every inch he slides in. When he bottoms out, he stays still, waiting for her body to adjust to his size. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she breathes out.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He thrusts slowly, savoring how incredible she feels around him. It takes everything in his willpower not to come yet. She wraps her legs around his waist, arms linked behind his neck. That beautiful smile flashes across her face, making him tingly all over his body. He really likes her.

His pace picks up, drawing out small moans from her sweet lips. He’s close, but he wants to make her orgasm first. He reaches down to rub her puffy clit with his thumb, the sudden sensation causing her to buck up towards him. Her reaction encourages him to thrust into her faster, moving his thumb relentlessly over the sensitive spot.

“Fuck, Nanami. I’m going to come,” she whimpers.

“Come for me, princess. Come all over my cock.”

She tightens, her body squeezing him until she climaxes. After her high, she relaxes her grip on him, eyes glazed over, grinning. When he tries to pull out, she stops him. “Don’t. Keep going until you come. Please.”

It doesn’t take long; he thrusts into her a few more times until he releases inside her, filling her up. As he pulls out, cum drips out of her slit, an erotic sight he’ll never tire of seeing. He collapses beside her, steadying his breath. She turns to him, sliding her arm over his chest, nuzzling her face against his shoulder. Cuddling closer to her, he whispers, “Thank you.”

She laughs. “Thank you, too.”

They stay like that for a few minutes, the silence comfortable, their bodies cozy snuggled together. Before they end up falling asleep, Nanami sits up and announces, “I’ll be back.” He disappears into the bathroom, rummaging his cupboard for the unscented baby wipes he bought a few days ago. When he returns, he crawls back in bed next to his girlfriend and takes out a few wipes.

“Wow, you’re so prepared!” she exclaims, taking the wipes from him to clean herself.

“I figured these would be good to have, just in case. If you want, we can take a shower together before we sleep. You can wear my clothes.”

“I can’t sleep over. Ren is going to freak out if I don’t come home.”

Slightly disappointed, he responds, “Oh, okay.”

Sensing this, she kisses him on the cheek. “I promise. Next time, I will sleep over. Just gotta get Ren’s approval first.”

“You’re such a good sister,” he smirks.

“And when Ren moves into the dorms in a couple of weeks, we can do whatever we want, wherever we want.”

“I’d like that.”

After she’s cleaned up, she changes back into her clothes. Nanami puts on a new pair of clean briefs to walk her to the door. “Call me when you’re home, okay?”

“I will.”

They hug each other tightly before saying goodbye. Exhausted from his orgasm, Nanami goes straight to the bathroom to brush his teeth and get ready for sleep. As he lies in bed, under the very blanket they just had sex on, he moves his head to the pillow. The one she was sprawled out on as he made her come. He takes a deep breath with his nose pressed against it, inhaling her sweet scent. He feels his arousal growing beneath his briefs, thinking about the way his cum trickled out of her.

He smiles to himself, reaching down to stroke his hard cock, realizing he doesn’t have to go off fantasies anymore.

Taglist: @chiyoso

#nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami smut #nanami x you #nanami fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x you #nanami kento fluff #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami smut #kento nanami x you #kento nanami fluff #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #sweet like honey #a bento for kento

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missredherring · 1 month

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Fisting with Wolverine

Logan Howlett/Wolverine x F!Reader

Rating: E

Word Count: 675

Contents: Fisting. Brief mentions of canon-typical violence and blood. A sprinkling of angst because it's Wolverine.

A/N: It's what it says on the tin, folks. I have nothing to say for myself.

This is loose-fit, lightly edited, and not beta read.

The first time you bring it up he says no immediately.

“Ok, why not?”

He looks at you like you’re stupid.

When you just continue looking at him he raises a hand between you, makes a fist, and slowly extends his claws.

You nod. “Fair point. You know they have these rubber caps you can put on claws so they don’t scratch–”

Logan huffs, claws retracting as he turns to leave.

“Wait, I’m sorry,” you take his hand in yours and hold it between you like he had. “Look,” you say as you bring his fingers together, fore and pinky fingers under his middle fingers, and then tucking his thumb into the cradle they made. “This is also a fist. Think about it.”

You kiss his hand and leave him to brood.

When he agrees to try it with you it’s on the stipulation that you snag an empty room in the infirmary.

And isn’t that a fun conversation to have with Jean.

You do enjoy watching her squirm when you explain that you and Logan want to try a sex act that he feels might be dangerous, so he’d like to have easy access to the infirmary if necessary, but don’t worry, you trust him and aren’t worried yourself.

The first three fingers go in easy, as usual, and the fourth is exciting.

Logan’s forehead is sweaty where he’s pressing it against yours, his eyes trained on your pussy and the way it stretches around his fingers.

He tucks his thumb under, just as you had done when you’d first shown him, and holds his breath as it’s gobbled up with a moan.

You turn feral with all of his fingers inside of you, and he knows feral. Eyes rolling, chest heaving, mouth opening in soundless words as your hips work themselves on his fingers.

He’s getting excited now, some of the worry ebbing away and replaced by desire as he takes in your enthusiastic response.

But with everything so slippery and wet between your legs, it happens so fast: your hips thrust down when his hand thrusts up and his knuckles disappear inside of you.

Logan feels like he’s been gut-punched.

The hot wetness around his hand is familiar, as is the way the body under him is writhing.

You moan his name and it’s another cross he has to bear.

His muscles clench, his hand pulls back, and he prepares himself to see red red red.

But you grab at his wrist and plead with him, begging him to stay–

And that makes sense, he thinks. Removing the claws will make you bleed out faster, and of course he wouldn’t leave you like this, what kind of monster do you think he is–

“It feels so good. Oh, god, Logan. Fuck me, please- move your hand- I’m- fuck–”

He looks down at the mass of hands between you, and there’s not a speck of red in sight. It’s not blood that’s dripping from his wrist, but your arousal and lube and cum from the several orgasms you’ve already had.

He cradles your face in his other hand and forces eye contact between you, studying every detail, every micro-expression, that passes over your features.

“Tell me, honey, you’re what?” Are you alright? I’m not hurting you, am I? Please, god, tell me I’m not hurting you like everyone else I lay these hands on.

“I’m gonna kick your ass if you don’t make me come on your fist, Logan.”

His laugh wobbles from of his mouth, pushed out by a sob. He kisses you until you’re writhing again with impatience and lust and he finally takes the cue to move his hand.

Slowly, so slowly. The same inch, in and out, and then he has you howling as he tries rotating his wrist this way and that, massaging the big joint at the base of his thumb into your g-spot.

You’re squeezing his fingers so hard as you come; maybe he’s the one who’s going to get hurt and not the other way around.

Tagging a few friends who might be interested: @joelsgreys @tonysopranosrobe @guiltyasdave @moonlitbirdie @bitchwitch1981

@perotovar @covetyou

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #x reader

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jobean12-blog · 1 year

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Neighborly Love

Pairing: Beefy!Bucky x reader

Word Count: 1,446

Summary: Bucky is your new neighhor and tension has been building since he moved in so when the water in his apartment stops working he comes to you first.

Author’s Note: So my dear love @mickeyhenrys made this edit for me and it sparked an idea because omg it’s glorious and Bucky in glasses is just 🔥🔥🔥and it all happened while we were thirsting over the recent pics of Seb and his MAN BUN! YUM! Thank you so much love and thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the sweet @firefly-graphics thank you darling Daisy🥰

Warnings: Fun, flirty, some fluff, some tension, the doorbell is a pain in the butt, i-mpl-ie-d s-e-x-y time

The below edit is NOT MINE: credit goes to @mickeyhenrys thank you again my lovely

I’m also including the pic of Seb and his beefy bun below the cut because YES

After a long debate with yourself over whether or not you want to walk to the bathroom in just your tee shirt and panties you decide to make a run for it so you can wash up and change all at once.

With that decision, you open your bedroom door and step into the hall, about to walk to the bathroom when it’s door opens.

Bucky freezes in the doorway when he sees you, his eyes running down the length of your body.

“Mornin’ doll,” he says before clearing his throat. “Sleep ok?”

His long hair is curled around his ears, still wet and sending droplets of water dripping onto his bare shoulders that converge into a glistening trail down his naked chest, zigzagging through his sculpted abdominals before disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans.

Jeans that hang low enough to reveal the defined V-cut of his hips.

He raises his arm, towel in hand, and starts to dry his hair, drawing your eyes to his flexing bicep.

“UGH!”

You push him out of the way and slam the bathroom door behind you.

“Guess that’s a no,” he mutters before walking back into the living room.

Once you’re washed up and you’ve used the bathroom you stomp back out, having forgotten all about changing.

You walk over to him and shove his glasses at his chest, hard. “You forgot these in the bathroom.”

“Doll?” Bucky asks in confusion.

“You’re over here, using my shower, walking around like that,” you mutter as you clang angrily around the kitchen.

“Did I miss something?” he asks from the doorway.

“Put a shirt on Bucky,” you snap, keeping your back to him.

“Only if you put on some shorts and a bra doll face,” he replies with a chuckle.

You suddenly go still, remembering you’re only wearing your panties under your oversized tee. Whirling around with the intention to slip past him, you glower but when you reach the doorway he blocks your path, maneuvering you against the wall.

He raises an arm above your head and leans in, the clean scent of your shampoo in his hair. Your eyes travel over his skin appreciatively and when you meet his gaze you find him staring down at your legs. Your thighs rub together instinctively and he lets out a grunt filled with desire.

You try to unjumble your thoughts, the tiny rational part of your brain yelling at you to run.

But everything else is too loud.

“Bucky?” you breathe out and your eyes fall to his mouth.

He lifts his other hand and gently brushes his thumb along the curve of your jaw, in the process bringing your face closer to his. Goose bumps erupt across your skin at the scrape of his calluses and your mind fills with thoughts of how those hands would feel on the rest of your body.

You breathe out his name once more as his head dips, his lips just brushing along yours when the doorbell rings.

With a muttered curse, he retreats, his eyes filled with the promise that this isn’t over.

“I’ll get it,” you squeak.

He catches you by the arm to stop you.

“I’ll get it doll face,” he rumbles, letting his eyes sweep down your body. “No way I’m lettin’ anyone else see you like this.”

You nod with wide eyes and hurry back to your bedroom, quickly glancing back to watch as he lifts his shirt over his head and shoves his glasses onto his face.

“Who was it?” you ask when you return, now dressed in leggings and a new shirt.

“The landlord,” he answers. “My water should be fixed by five.”

“Ok, great,” you say with far too much cheer. “Coffee?”

“Sure, thanks doll,” he says as he takes the hair tie from his wrist and secures his hair at the base of his neck in a small bun.

You stare for a moment too long before looking away and trying to focus on making the coffee.

A few minutes later you walk into your small living room, mugs in hand and sit next to him on the couch. You place the steaming coffee down on the small table and snuggle into his side.

“Thanks again,” he says.

“For what?”

“For letting me crash here and take a shower.”

“Of course,” you tell him. “I’m just glad one of us has working water to use. It seems like everything goes wrong all at once in this building.”

Your gazes hold for a second before he reaches for his coffee. When he sits back you lean into him again.

“There’s a whole lotta couch ya know doll,” he teases.

“You’re warm and you smell nice,” you pout even as you push yourself away from him.

He goes to reach for you so he can tuck you back against him but unfortunately during all the shifting you manage to spill a spot of your coffee on his shirt.

“OH MY GOD,” you screech as you plop your coffee back on the table, spilling more, before you grab his shirt and pull it away from his body. “I’m sorry! Are you ok?”

He carefully places his coffee mug down and gives you a lopsided smirk.

“Pretty sure that was my fault,” he says sheepishly. “And I’m fine doll. Don’t worry.”

Your fingers slip higher and you lift the wet fabric, searching his skin for any redness.

His stomach muscles flex under your touch.

“Are you sure?” you whisper, finally dragging your eyes away from his skin.

“I’m sure,” he replies, his voice gruff.

Suddenly, the air feels too thick and the feel of him under your fingers, the heat from his body and the way his eyes shine with desire makes it hard to breathe.

You lick your lips, needing to kiss him.

His head dips to yours as you move upward and then his mouth is on you, frantic and hungry.

Strong arms circle around you, his hands splayed over your back as he pulls you closer until you’re straddling him.

You roll your hips against him, feeling how much he wants you. Your hands dance along his chest and reach behind his head to tug his hair free of the tie, letting it spill out around his face before you slide your fingers through the silky strands. His glasses go askew and he pulls away just fast enough to rip them off and drop them on the couch.

His large hands smooth down to your waist to grip your hips and you feel the pressure of him holding you down as you grind over him again and again. Tightening his hold, he lifts his hips, increasing the pressure.

With every roll of your hips you grow needier and his grip turns bruising.

“I need to come Bucky,” you murmur against his lips.

He growls your name, and then kisses you again, keeping your hips in constant motion over the hardness between his legs.

“Fuck,” he grunts, his cheeks flushed.

“Please,” you whine, your fingernails digging into his skin. “I need you. I need you inside m…”

Ding Dong

“You have to be fucking kidding me,” he growls.

You’re still seated in his lap, your heavy breathing the only sound when the bell buzzes again.

“Don’t move,” he commands as he gently lifts you up.

He adjusts himself in his jeans and grabs his glasses, pushing them up and over his nose. With one last longing glance he starts to walk toward the door.

“Bucky wait!” you call quietly.

He stops and looks back as you hop off the couch and go to him. You press your body along his and reach up to fix his hair and adjust his glasses.

“There…,” you say. “Your hair was a bit mussed and your glasses were crooked.”

“Thanks,” he says with a grin then grabs you around the waist, presses you so close that feel every inch of him and kisses you until you’re breathless.

Third buzz of the bell.

He stomps away and opens the door with too much force, making you giggle. Then you hear him saying a lot of “uh huh, ok, that’s fine, yeah, yeah,” and then the door slams shut and the lock clicks.

“Was that the landlord again?” you ask as he stalks toward you.

He nods but doesn’t elaborate and when you open your mouth to ask more questions he presses a long finger against your lips.

“It’s fine,” he says. “Now…”

He starts walking you backward toward the couch and sits, pulling you down over his lap.

“Where were we?” he murmurs with a whisper of his lips along yours.

@book-dragon-13 @hiddles-rose @lookiamtrying @goldylions @sstan-hoe @late-to-the-party-81 @buckysdollforlife @blackwidownat2814 @randomfandompenguin @seitmai @littleseasiren

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #beefy!bucky x reader #beefy!bucky #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #neighbor!bucky #neighbor au #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan

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kassiekole22 · 1 year

Note

Can you do a Syzoth/Reptile x reader, about him telling the reader about things they should know about him & his reptilian form before they date each other? Thank you!!!

Are You Sure?

Picture lightly edited by me.

Description: It takes all the courage in the world to tell Syzoth how you really feel about him. But Syzoth isn't so sure that you can handle a Zaterran as a lover. So he decides to tell you everything you need to know, before taking your relationship to the next level... Warnings: Fluff, Pining, A Small Bit Of NSFW. (For brief mention of breeding.) Word Count: 1.4k A/N: I am sooooo sorry this took so long for me to finish! I've been dealing with some health issues and other personal struggles recently so I've been having a hard time getting things done quickly. But I'm getting better so hopefully that will change soon. I want any other anons to know that I still fully intend on finishing your requests and to other readers, please don't let this discourage you from sending any requests. I love hearing all of your ideas! Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this fic. 🖤 MasterList: 🖤 Kassie's Angels: @lorebite, @mornandil, @bihansthot, @katiralovely. (If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know in the comments! 🖤)

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I slumped down under a shady tree after practicing fighting for a solid two hours. Lord Liu Kang told me the monks would be harsh, but I never expected training to be just as hard as it was. So I sat — the back of my head hitting the bark of the tree as it fell back onto my shoulders — and I let out a tired sigh. My eyes began to fall shut but then the wrestling of tree branches jerked me right awake as I let out a startled gasp. I looked up to find the source of this sudden commotion only to see Syzoth — in his human form — staring down at me from a high branch with a cheeky smile stretching his lips.

"You scared me!" I laughed as I reached an arm up to swat at his feet, which hung down from the branch he sat on.

After responding with a huff of laughter, Syzoth jumped down beside me. He sat down on the ground so close to where I was that I subconsciously held my breath, now very weary of moving in his presence. But not from fear — because it was the closest I had ever been to Syzoth before. The soft touch of his skin touching mine when our elbows brushed together, being engulfed in a cloud of his natural scent, even being able to hear his breath was enough to get my heart beat racing. To say I liked the man was quite an understatement. In my eyes, he was beautiful; I just wish I knew how to tell him that.

"It's so nice out here," he breathed before letting out a relaxed sigh. "I could sit out here for hours."

"Yeah, me too." I agreed, looking in every direction but his. Of course, I wasn't subtle about it — despite trying to be — and he noticed instantly.

"Are you ok?" He asked as his tone dipped softer with more concern.

I simply nodded, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired."

I finally mustered up the strength to look back at him and make eye contact. But as soon as my eyes met those pale green ones, I could feel my cheeks burn with a sudden heat of desire. The expression that grew on his face was much like his tone moments ago: concerned and worried.

'Shit! He notices!'

"Are you alright, (Y/N)?" He asked while placing a hand gently on my own. The sudden contact did not help my rosy completion and I felt my skin burn even more.

I quickly pulled away and nodded my head, "Yes, yes — I'm fine." I assured him. "I just got too much sun today."

It was a good lie and I just prayed that Syzoth was as gullible as I had hoped. He did not answer me after that and for a good moment, peaceful silence had fallen over us and I was glad.

I took a deep breath to calm my nerves and finally felt myself relax again. Looking up at the sky, I noticed that not a single cloud covered it, allowing the sun to beam down upon us. The birds chirped happily and the butterflies fluttered in the air — watching them helped all of my stresses melt away and bring me to peace. It truly was a perfect day. I let my eyes flutter shut as a cool breeze blew passed us, and then I felt completely comfortable in my surroundings.

That was until Syzoth's voice broke the long-lasting silence...

"(Y/N)," His voice came out serious as he spoke. His sudden change in tone instantly caught my attention and I turned to face the man. "I have a question that I must ask—"

"Ok — what is it?"

"Do... Do you have feelings for me?" He asked hesitantly and almost... Shyly?

I froze as soon as the words came out of his mouth and I instantly felt my cheeks burn with intense embarrassment. The shock I felt was overwhelming and I had absolutely no idea how to respond. I just sat there, thinking deeply about a million things at once.

'Does he know? Am I really that obvious? There's no way! I mean, I've done so well to hide it!... Haven't I?

As humiliating as it was, I knew I couldn't keep the truth from him for any longer. So after heaving a deep sigh to gain just a little more confidence, I spoke my confession: "Yes, Syzoth — I do have feelings for you."

He stared at me with a blank and not so surprised expression for a moment. I felt as if I was under a burning spotlight while under his gaze. Finally — after a moment that felt like a lifetime — he let out a soft sigh. It didn't seem necessarily stressed or disappointed in anyway — it was just a normal huff of air.

"Are you sure? Because — as you know — I'm no ordinary individual. I'm not human like yo—"

"I don't care, Syzoth!" I cut him off as I raised my voice slightly. I didn't mean to come off aggressive in any way — I was just eager to tell him how I felt. I exhaled slowly and lowered my voice to a more calm pitch. "I like you for you; that stuff doesn't matter."

He looked at me for a moment, almost like he was reading over my words in his mind. Something told me by his expression that he did not believe me and would need further convincing. And unfortunately, I was right.

"No, (Y/N). You do not understand." He heaved a deep breath and shifted so he was facing me more before continuing, "There is still a lot about me that you do not know. Things you are not prepared for—"

"Well... Prepare me!" I basically demanded with an enthusiastic smile and he raised a brow at me for a moment. He seemed almost hesitant to let me into his world but eventually he did nod in agreement.

"Ok... For instance, our diet mainly consists of raw flesh of animals and humans. We can eat cooked foods but we don't prefer it." He paused for a moment to check my facial expression before continuing, "We shed our skin once a year. It's a very long and uncomfortable process and I will become very irritable at that time. I like warmth and do not do well in the cold — I can't handle it, in fact. I also have to keep my skin hydrated and... There's also mating season... Um..."

His eyes averted away from mine as he shifted uncomfortably on the ground while letting out a cough. I blushed at the thought of this "mating season" he mentioned, but tried my hardest to keep my composure for his and my sake.

"I may appear human sometimes, but do know that my reptilian nature still lingers within. Are you sure you want to engage in a romantic relationship with someone like myself?"

I smiled warmly at the man sitting before me and took his big hands in my own, massaging the backs of them with my thumbs to sooth him. It was obvious he was nervous and I didn't want him to be — he deserved to be comfortable with someone for once in his life and I was going to make sure that I was that person.

"Like I said before: I like you for you. And I would be more than happy to engage in a romantic relationship with you — that is, of course, if you want to engage in one with me?"

I gazed up at him through my lashes with hope blossoming in my heart for the first time that day. I felt his hands grow sweaty in my own and the look of concern on his face remained, causing a little bit of that hope to die off.

But then his worried expression melted away with a fond smile as his cheeks turned a faint tint of pink. He leaned forward and gently pressed his lips against mine — not necessarily molding them into a kiss, but just holding them there. So I decided to take charge of the situation and pressed mine into his in the way a kiss would be formed. And happily, he kissed back.

I knew that loving a Zaterran would be a challenge, but I wouldn't have it any other way. My heart longed for him and now that I had him, that's all that mattered to me. I had finally found the one for me and I knew I'd be happy as long as he was at my side — this I was sure of.

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#mortal kombat 1 #mk1 #mortal kombat reptile #mk reptile #reptile #reptile x reader #mortal kombat syzoth #mk syzoth #syzoth #syzoth x reader #KassieMortalKombatFanFics

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carryonafi · 8 months

Text

my quiet blue tomb of you.

ashton irwin x reader; SMUT!! 🔞

a/n: okay now i’m getting WAY to confident with the smut but i just had this idea i needed to get out. most of these things were inspired by convos ive had with my friends and they were amazing with giving me ideas for this fic!! enjoy some hot drummer boy sex

cw: choking kink, hair pulling, recording sexual acts, a tiny tiny bit kinky ;)

words: 3k

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Your phone was set on the closest surface possible, already filming as you shuffled around the kit and settled onto the small stance of the stool. Ashton was beaming with you sitting between his legs, like he couldn’t have been in a better position and you just about trumped every single thing he’s ever achieved with this instrument. His head ducked to your shoulder, the rogue flyaways of his curls tickling your skin which sent the reaction of goosebumps all over your body.

“Cameras rolling, babe.” You warned playfully, only getting a soft hum in response as Ashton pulled away and reached for the pair of wooden sticks resting on the snare to your left. The video would be edited on your part anyway, you loved those fans to death, but you couldn’t give them too much attention.

The sensation of your boyfriend's body wrapped around yours was so, so desiring. Body heat radiated from him through your thin top and his bare torso, arms shadowing yours as he bared the sticks in your hands. The palms of his hands were rough, but they were able to give you the most gentle touch you’d ever felt. Fuck, it made you dizzy. His hair brushed against your cheek as he peered over your shoulder to help you.

“Play by yourself a bit.” He encouraged, making you giggle at the lack of context behind the words he was saying. Ashton only missed it by a beat, but his laughter followed yours soon after. “You know what I mean.” His fingertips brushed against your right side, sending another shiver down your spine.

Hesitantly, you looked around the kit and decided to bring the drumstick down onto the floor tom on your right side. Just once or twice.

“No need to be so ginger with it.” Ashton shook his head, once again wrapping his hands over yours to direct them. He adjusted your position a bit and you could feel the slow rise and fall of his chest, the soft beat of his heart and it just about made you sleepy. They say that when you’re with someone you love that these… endorphins release that make you all sleepy and warm, that was exactly how you were feeling. You barely registered Ashton’s voice. “Wanna play anything specific?”

“Teach me…” You paused, letting your head drop back against his shoulder to get the best look at him you could. “Jet Black Heart.” Confidence. That was very much what you wanted. He gave you a soft smile before blessing your temple with a peck of his lips, letting the kiss linger for a moment before you sat back up and let him guide your movement.

“Push your foot down on the pedal for me.” Ashton ordered in such a soft manner that it didn’t even sound like a direction, a suggestion that you were obligated to take from your trance. You did just that, bringing your foot down, but it barely made a sound. “With force, (Y/N). You can’t be gentle.” He corrected, making you sigh and ponder. These drums were meant to be beaten, meant to be abused into beautiful symphonies that you could only create with melodic and rough raps. You stomped down a bit harder, the boom was halted because of the soundproof walls of the basement — but it made a sound.

“Ohh!” You hummed in amusement, tapping the pedal a couple more times and smiling at the sounds it made.

“See? Sounds better, doesn't it?” Ashton rubbed your sides as you nodded, tilting your head slightly to get a look at him… and snuck a sweet kiss to his cheek.

“Mmhm.” You made a sound like an affirmative, waiting for his next direction that could make your heart flutter, and it did. He whispered to cross your arms, slowly guiding your hands while he told you when to push on the pedal. Almost everything you did was under his control, his heartbeat accompanied with yours and the sound of the drums ricocheting in your ears. The wooden sticks felt like they could slip out of your hands at any moment, you were so weak from his touch but so amazed at how easily he made this all seem. When he finished showing you the beginning, he played it all in one and turned to look towards the camera. A 2 minute video, that would be enough for them, right? Once again, you marveled in amazement at how the drums sounded.

“You’re a professional now, you should take my place.” Ashton let go of your hands, giving you the freedom to beat around on the drums a bit longer. No particular pattern in mind, only tapping away on the hi-hat to achieve that hissing sound that you always loved. However, you frowned when it didn’t work out the way you intended. Not the right part.

“Maybe not so much.” You turned back to Ashton again, staring straight into those dilated pupils and blown out hazel irises. Pure love. Pure love was all you could see and you knew you were mirroring that right back to him. His arm snuck around your waist, smiling sweetly as he hovered over your lips for a moment. Now this was what you were looking for, your hands had a mind of their own as you set down the drumsticks and cupped both of his cheeks. Your lips met soon, the pads of your thumbs smoothing over his cheekbones and index fingers tracing the rough of his sideburns. He hummed against your closed mouth, and you melted. Melted into lovely mush because of your adoration for this man, how easy it was for him to be the way that he was and charm with no effort at all. The noise just made you wanton, that kiss turned into lips parting and sliding against each other as the enticing sound of you pulling away made you dizzy each time. Your heart started to pound, arousal started to pool as you felt Ashton’s grip on your waist become tighter.

“Ash.” You sighed dreamily, hands sliding back to the rogue curls which rested on the nape of his neck right above that beloved tattoo. “The camera.” The tone you spoke in was slow, it almost sounded far away because you were so enthralled by the beginning of this make-out session.

“You’re gonna cut it, aren’t you?” Ashton asked quite rhetorically as he continued his journey along the point of your jawline, gasping as he bared his teeth against the sensitive skin of your pulse point. “Keep it on, save a little bit for yourself. Don’t have t’show anyone.” His words were muffled against your flesh, each syllable like a slow puff of loving smoke against you and further shaking your need.

“Mm.. ‘kay.” You huffed in defeat, shuddering as you felt him smile to your throat. The position you were in was quite uncomfortable, still twisting your body to meet his. Ashton took notice of this quickly, tapping your thigh and motioning for you to sit up so you could get more comfortable. Every little thing came so easy to him, it was beyond you. Within seconds, you were perched atop his lap with your feet placed firmly on the ground with the height of the drum stool.

“Fuckin’ perfect, you are.” Ashton’s hands wandered your body, calloused fingertips gliding along your hips and stomach as your top had ridden up slightly. Just enough to make him hungry. The instant change in his attitude made you stir, the sweetness from earlier had shifted into possession and you could see it in his eyes. Large pupils dark with lust and need, despite every act he put on he could never hide that desperation for you. This realization made you giggle, bumping your nose with his as you leaned in for another kiss.

“Mh. Love you.” You spoke like a secret, kissing him once in expectation for him to repeat it.

“Love you more. So much more, my girl.” Suddenly your heart soared again, the fuzzy feeling in your chest made you bold enough to drag your nails down his chest as your lips met for the hundredth time within the last 5 minutes. It was so soft, but so needy, so slow. You never understood the term “love drunk” until you shared everything with Ashton, he could never fail to make your heart flutter like he was kissing you for the first time again. Like he was touching you for the first time again, sharing hushed whispers of your three favorite words for the first time again, it was so magical. You were convinced that this would never go away, the honeymoon phase would last your entire relationship and that was the way it should be.

Now, you were growing much more impatient. Your hips began to slowly rock into Ashton’s and the friction had him sighing gratefully, giving you the perfect opportunity to slide your tongue over his bottom lip with a need to push this further.

“Greedy.” He laughed as your hips collided again, his voice cut off in a groan.

“Only for you.” You replied, grinning victoriously as he returned the favor and gripped your hips, dragging you down against him. A gasp passed your lips, the smile never faltering as the sultry tone dripped from your sounds. “Want it so bad.”

“Yeah?” The implications made you weak, nodding desperately. “I’ll give you what you want.” Ashton leaned in to continue what he was doing before, placing those kisses to your throat which felt harsh but so loving. Marks would be left behind, but ones that would only fade within a short amount of time. He would always give in, you were too good to pass up and he only played those games when he really wanted to.

His fingertips came into contact with your skin again, feeling over the dips of your sides and waist, cherishing you like this was the last chance he’d get to ever touch you. Momentarily, everything around you went quiet. No background noise, no fabric shuffling, just the soft kisses and sounds of Ashton’s lips traveling every inch your neck. You could hear the pounding of your own heart in your ears, tangling your fingers in his thick, fluffy curls as you sighed and breathed, every sound heavy with arousal. His hands inching towards the soft elastic of your pajamas, touch sending goosebumps rippling throughout your body. It was so much, but never too much. Never enough.

“Help me out, here.” Ashton murmured against your skin, muffled by your body. You obliged immediately, without hesitation as you knew exactly what he was asking. You shuffled around, lifting your hips so he could push off the material and expose you to those eyes. Those dark eyes, completely overtaken with lust. “Mm. I figured.” He hummed, seeing you completely bare underneath. You let out another soft laugh, music to his ears just like the music he created.

“You should know me by now.” Your voice came in an awful suggestive tone, the fabric of his pants now pressed to your bare core. “I like easy access.”

“Do you, now?” Ashton whispered, pressing wet kisses on your breasts as you kneaded your hands in his hair. “I suppose I trained you well.” He hummed into your curves, making you gasp as he gripped your thighs to move you closer and instead creating friction which felt much more intense due to there being a layer of clothing lost.

“I want you so bad, please — I know you want me too.” You breathed, shuddering as your hips met again which finally elicited a groan from Ashton.

“Why have you got to be so damn irresistible?” He cursed, sucking in a breath as your hands went to his sweats to do the same thing he had done to you. You both were eager, too eager to put in the effort and take them off all the way. Ashton was lifting your hips within seconds of you watching his cock spring free of the confines, your breath getting caught in your throat as if this was your first time. From the most innocent scenarios to times like this, there wasn’t a moment where you didn’t feel anxious butterflies or that familiar swirling in your head.

His fingertips dug into your flesh, creating that tightening sensation in your chest as he whispered soft praise against your neck. The way he eased you down, rubbing your hips yet roughly gripping your thighs and feeling his frame tremble beneath your own as you took his length told you that this sweetness wasn’t going to last long. The only thing you could do was let your hands go right back up to his hair, disheveled in the most gorgeous way ever imaginable. You breathed out a satisfied sigh, listening as Ashton echoed you and added more loving encouragement.

“Feel so good, baby. Look at me, come on, dear… wanna see those beautiful eyes.” The comment made you blush, but regardless of his command your head tilted back as you closed your eyes. The pleasure was all too much and you had barely done anything, this position was something different. Your internal guess of how long this loving act was going to go on for had been proven right, feeling the loss of his hand on your thigh as he instead gripped your throat. You gasped, a strangled whine tearing past your closed off throat.

“I told you to fucking look at me.” Ashton’s voice was husky and hot between you, the tone sending a shiver down your spine. Your own hand went to grab at his wrist, and it was then you noticed how tight his hold was on you. It made you dizzy, dizzy with arousal and dizzy from the fact that he was somehow safely blocking your windpipes enough to make you obey without question. Your eyes were locked onto his as you rolled your hips, watching Ashton’s eyelids flutter and his kiss-swollen lips part to let out a moan of his own.

“Fuck..” You said softly, eyes widening as both of his hands got tighter on you.

“Watch that mouth.” He said simply, and you knew right then and there to let him take over. Your body submitted completely, simply taking in the feeling of his hips lifting from the drum stool with ease and your own weight on top of him. You no longer needed to have a brain, you could let Ashton fuck you mindless and you knew he’d be satisfied.

Between the soft grunts and growls that he made and your own restrained moans, there were the sounds of skin and friction. It felt like heaven as he lost all self control, relentlessly fucking up into you with a hand on your throat to keep your gaze on his muted green irises. However, you could see that this position was getting pretty hard to keep up with. The line of frustration between his eyebrows and the sweat collecting in those curls that hung over his forehead, you tried to get his attention.

“Switch — bend me over.” You gasped, hoping your babbling made enough sense to him. It did, watching his strong chest rise and fall with each labored breath he took as he let go of your throat. You gratefully took in a deep breath, not getting to enjoy it much before Ashton firmly patted your thigh.

“Up.” He said without any elaboration needed, pushing yourself off of him with a quiet sound before standing up. He followed in your actions quickly, towering over you, bodies almost touching… you weren’t kept waiting any longer. Ashton’s arm wrapped around you, roughly fastening his grip on your waist as he spun you around and forced you down. This was not very steady, not at all. Your hands were placed on the high toms of his drum kit, which were not at all attached to anything stable. Not that you had to completely rely on it, since Ashton’s arm was all the way around you keeping you close.

“I’ve got you, I got you.” His other hand traced your spine, leaving goosebumps in his wake just as he braced himself and passed easily through your folds. Another desperate sound escaped you, trying to not put too much pressure on your hands and potentially knock something over. Ashton quickly built up his pace again, his hand slowly making its way up your back again before taking your hair with one sharp tug. This had you crying out his name, fingertips grazing against the material.

“Gonna cum. All over your fuckin’ back.” He rasped, thrusts becoming sloppy and uncoordinated. “Wanna see you covered. All mine.” Ashton rambled possessively, making your thighs shake with need to finally be brought over the edge.

“Please? Please — I…” Your words were cut off with a silent moan, closing your eyes to watch those shapes drift across your vision. You tightened around him, you could feel it because of the way Ashton had tried to speed up and keep his pace regulated. The orgasm that washed over you made him fail to keep composure, quickly pulling out of you and doing just as he had promised. Your ass and lower back painted in his cum, one beautiful sight Ashton couldn’t tear his eyes away from. You both panted and slowly collected your consciousness, unable to hold yourself on these drums much longer. Ashton felt your struggle, guiding you into a standing position with your back against his torso. Both of his arms snaked around you comfortably, warm, large hands on either side of you to remind you just where you were.

“That’s gonna be fun to watch.” He mumbled against your neck, pressing those open mouthed kisses to the hickeys he had left with pride and affectionately roughing up your skin with the stubble adorning his cheek. Once your eyes opened again, you looked over at your phone still set up on the desk nearby.

“Mm, I dunno. That whole “bending me over the drum kit” thing didn’t work as well as I thought it would.” You mused, leaning your head to the left to feel his sweaty hair against your skin. However, you didn’t regret one bit of that.

“I made it work, though. Didn’t I?” Ashton nuzzled your neck, making you laugh breathlessly as he tickled your skin. “You’ve got some weird fantasies.” He added.

“And you have only just scratched the surface.”

——

(some more cutie pics of ash to imagine for this one🤗)

#5 seconds of summer #5sos fanfic #ashton irwin #calum hood #luke hemmings #michael clifford #5sos one shot #5sos smut #5sos x reader #ashton irwin x reader #ashton irwin smut #5sos

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theworldofotps · 1 year

Text

Eight Months Ago

Pairing: HOOK x Reader Word Counter: 5242 Description: Eight months ago Tyler did one of the hardest things he’s ever done.

Slight angst(?), fluff, little hints of smut and some sad (sorta?)

A massive thank you @omg-im-such-a-masochist babes your support, ideas and just everything is always so appreciated. This wouldn’t have been possible or turned out the way it did without your help. Love youuu xx

I really hope you guys enjoy this it’s a little long x (I also hope it makes sense because I’ve edited it so many damn times) _________ Tag list:

@omg-im-such-a-masochist @melissahausen @new-zealand-chic @writtingrose @sjwrites22 @sassymox @mrsacklesevansmgk @xladyxfatex @biforrollynch @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @demonqueen29 @itsicantbelievethis666 @lilred91 @rebellious-desires @claymorexpunisher @letsgivethisonemoreshot @ava-valerie @shortyiceheart @serpantscorpio8497 @thatpanpal @thatnerdwriter @wrestlersownmyheart @vebner37 @auburnwrites @aews-four-pillars @seeingstarks @whenimakeitshine1234 @legit9thlunaticwarrior @blaquekitty @ironshamelessyouth @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @ripleyswhore @melblacc @alliwant456 @elevennbloom @xbreezymeadowsx @mcreignsera If you wanna be added to the list lemme know. _________ Taz hesitated outside his son’s locker room, normally he wouldn’t think twice about knocking but lately Tyler seemed like he was on the edge. He wasn’t sure when it had all started, but he had a few faint ideas, one he could for sure almost bet was a big part of the reason. After another brief pause, he knocked and waited for the okay to step inside.

“Who is it?”

“Your father.”

“..Come on in.”

Pushing the door open, Taz closed it behind him and leaned against the wall his arms crossed as he eyed his son. Tyler was laid out on the couch, an arm covering his eyes and the other lying across his stomach, he hadn’t even changed out of his gear yet.

“Sit up we need to have a talk.”

“Can’t this wait till later?”

“No, no it can’t.”

Waiting until he was sat up and his attention was focused on his dad, Taz sat on the only other chair in the room. Rubbing his hand over his chin he took the time to really look at his kid, he had dark circles under his eyes. His hair was even wilder than usual and not because of having just finished a match. Taz had started to notice the slight differences in him, and to be frank he was getting worried.

“Look son.”

Taz started slowly trying to figure out the best way to go about this situation, he figured coming right out was best.

“I don’t know what’s been going on lately, but we really need to discuss whatever it is that has you feeling or acting the way you’ve been.”

“Nothing is going on I’m just a little tired.”

“That’s bullshit and we both know it come on Ty I wasn’t born yesterday; you know you can talk to me about anything. But for the last couple of months, you haven’t been yourself. You show up late for training, you hardly return any calls to anybody or when the guys invite you out you always decline. Your matches are still amazing, it seems the only time you’re really yourself is when you’re in the ring. Maybe it’s because it comes like second nature I don’t know. But what I do know is something ain’t right and it seems like it hasn’t been for a while.”

“I’m fine dad really just a lot on my mind but it’s nothing. We’ve been traveling a lot and it’s finally catching up.”

Taz eyed him for a few minutes then spoke once again this time with more caution.

“How long has it been since Double or Nothing?”

“Eight months give or take.”

Nodding, he stood and walked over patting his shoulder then made his way over to the door Taz knew his gut feeling was probably right.

“Well, if you do want to talk, I’m here remember that please.”

“I will dad thanks.”

Tyler said and flopped back down on the couch resuming his previous position, Taz watched him for another moment before leaving the room. Pulling out his phone he scrolled to the bottom of his contacts and hovered over the call button before clicking dial. Listening to it ring he walked away from Tyler’s locker room and headed for the parking lot. This was a long shot but like he’d told Tyler, he knew his kid and he’d bet money that the thing making him behave this way would be on the other end of the phone call.

“Taz?”

“Hey firefly it’s good to hear from you again, listen I know it’s been a while since we chatted last, but I really need your help.?

*Eight months ago*

“Ty wait stop you’re going to drop me!”

Taz followed the sound of laughter and made his way to where the ring was being set up. Chuckling, he crossed his arms watching as Tyler carried Y/n around the barricade that was set up.

“Oh, come on you know I’d never drop you baby just hold on tight.”

Tyler chuckled back to her as he walked around a barricade and then started jumping up the stairs. The sound of Y/n’s screams being muffled as she pressed her face against his shoulder.

“Be careful Tyler you have a match tomorrow last thing we need is you getting injured because you tripped going up the stairs. And we don’t want y/n getting hurt either.”

Taz called out and made his way down the ramp towards the ring, Tyler huffed but turned and walked back down the steps. Y/n still held tightly on his back as they made their way over to stand with him.

“I wouldn’t drop my girl she’s safe as could be.”

“Not the point son.”

“Thank you, Taz.”

Y/n said slipping off Tyler’s back and adjusting the HOOK shirt she was wearing a grin on her face.

“You’re welcome, you two look just the way you did when you were fifteen and making your way around the arenas waiting for me to finish a match.”

“Except this time, she’s mine and I don’t have to worry about her leaving me for an older man.”

Tyler teased causing Y/n to gasp shoving his shoulder as she crossed her arms.

“I didn’t leave you for another man I just wanted an autograph from Stone Cold and you were busy munching your chips while sucking your juice box.”

Y/n said as Tyler took her hand kissing the back of it lightly then kissed her lips chuckling afterwards.

“When I found her, she was busy drooling over him clutching the photo to her chest listening to him ramble about whatever.”

“I was not drooling!”

“Okay children okay it’s getting late Tyler needs to get some rest for the show tomorrow you can argue about this another time. Head back to the hotel and no funny business I mean it he needs to get a good night sleep.”

“Yes dad.”

Taz watched as the two walked off whispering and giggling as they went, he loved seeing his son so happy and the fact it was with someone who was already treated like family because of his connection with her uncle was just the cherry on top.

*Present* Pushing the hotel room door open Tyler threw his bag on the floor and made his way over for a quick shower. He was ready to just get clean and lay in his bed the exhaustion from his match was finally settling in. He was more than glad he didn’t have anything to do tomorrow so he could just keep to himself. Digging through his bag for a clean pair of pajama bottoms he walked into the bathroom showering and getting ready for bed. Plugging his phone in, he shut the light off, laying down on the bed and waited for his vision to get adjusted to the dark.

He still wasn’t completely used to sleeping by himself even after eight months alone, the bed always seemed much colder without her there. Tyler couldn’t help but shut his eyes tightly, the image of her drifted through his mind as it did almost every night. He couldn’t help playing that last scene back repeatedly like he always did. Sure, he may have been the one to bring this all upon himself, sure he knew that he could have gone about things a different way. But it was too late to try and change the past, now all he could do was unwillingly dwell on it.

*Eight months ago* Tyler rubbed a hand over his face as he sat on the bed, he was supposed to be resting up but he couldn’t help it. What he was about to do was making it impossible for him to go to sleep. Hopefully once it was finished, he’d be able to just push everything off and maybe things would go back to semi normal.

“Hi babe, I’m back sorry it took so long but Renee wanted help deciding on some outfits for the show next week.”

Y/n called out as she closed the hotel door behind her, making her way to the bedroom after removing her coat and shoes. Spotting Tyler she frowned softly and made her way over to the bed slowly.

“Hey are you okay?”

Tyler shook his head and got off the bed. He needed to have a little space between them before he did this. Swallowing back the nervousness he took a moment to collect himself, letting a neutral bored look settle on his features then turned back to her. Y/n the girl who meant more to him then anyone else, his light in this fucked world. They’d known each other all their lives and yet over the course of the time they were dating, his feelings hit fast.

“Look I know this is sudden and out of nowhere but I just I don’t think this is going to work out anymore. And by this, I mean us. I’ve given it some thought and there’s not really any point in letting it drag on. It’s better if we just end on good terms as friends or whatever.”

Tyler glanced over, seeing the shock on her face and the tears welling up in her eyes as he spoke. He knew this was going to devastate her, but he needed out. He couldn’t handle all this emotion and feeling, everything else that came with having a serious stable relationship.

Y/n stared at him and swallowed the lump in her throat as she tried to process everything he was saying. He was right this had come out of nowhere, she thought that they were doing amazing at the present time in their relationship. Sure, they had spats like every couple, but they always managed to work through them in the end.

“Where is this coming from? We’ve been together for nearly eight months. What changed, what went wrong? What did I do to make you feel like you needed to end this?”

“You didn’t do anything there’s no point trying to explain it I just know that it’s best to end things where they are before one of us ends up getting hurt…worse.”

“I thought you loved me. How can you say you love someone then go and do this without giving me a real reason as to why. I don’t want to lose you Ty please baby there has to be something we can do to work this out.”

“We’ll always be friends you won’t lose me completely this is just for the best; I do love you Y/n..in a way but I just know we can’t continue this it has to be over. I got you another room, so you don’t have to go to the airport this late.”

Grabbing the new key, he held it out looking at the wall to avoid watching the tears that were sliding down her cheeks. Tyler knew she was hurting but he couldn’t let this relationship go on and it was best that she hated him for now then for things to continue as they were. In the end he was worried about breaking her even worse.

Sniffling Y/n stood up and quickly went about gathering her stuff, Tyler watched her pack everything. His heart felt like it was going to pound out of his chest. He wanted more than anything to stop her, but he knew he couldn’t. When she had everything, she went to the door stopping with her hand on the knob just hoping he would change his mind. Sure, she could yell and scream but the thing she wanted most was for him to be happy. And if ending their relationship was going to make him happy then she wasn’t going to stop that. Walking out she closed the door behind her, leaving Tyler alone with the memories and a empty feeling in his chest.

*Present* Y/n stared at the tickets that laid on the table in front of her in an envelope. After the call she received from Taz a few days ago she was dumbfounded. She couldn’t understand why he would want her to fly all the way out to Chicago because Tyler wasn’t acting himself. She hadn’t seen or spoken to him since the night she left his hotel room. After having her cousin grab the few things, she had at his apartment she hadn’t had any contact with him. Of course, she had asked after him and even tried to send a text, but it failed to deliver.

Taz had told her he couldn’t figure out what else to do, Tyler wasn’t talking to him like he normally would. He wasn’t talking to anyone or being himself, and this was the last thing Taz could think of. Tyler and Y/n had been close as could be even before they dated so he was hoping that she could help.

Honestly as much as she loved Taz and wanted to do this for him, she couldn’t just forget about all the hurt and anger she had felt at the way Tyler ended things between them. He couldn’t even be decent enough to give her a straight answer as to why he was breaking up with her. She’d spent weeks and months afterwards trying to think of what could have gone wrong and she kept coming up blank.

“Tyler made his choice he obviously didn’t want me there anymore, he ended things between us why should I care if he isn’t acting right?”

Standing she felt all that old anger coming back to the surface as she stared down at those tickets. “I really think he needs you Y/n”

Taz had told her; she had never heard that desperate tone in his voice before and knew that he must be really worried about Tyler.

“If he really needed me then he never should have left.”

Y/n turned her back on the envelope and made her way into the bathroom to have a hot bath. Maybe she would know what to tell Taz after spending some more time thinking. The flight was for tomorrow evening. Slipping into the hot bath y/n rested her head back on a towel, her eyes closing as the water gently swirled around her. She couldn’t help her mind wandering when she closed her eyes, thinking about Tyler brought back memories that she tried her hardest to keep buried in the back of her mind.

*A year ago* “Ty what if we get caught by someone?”

“We won’t baby, nobody ever comes down this it’s too far in the arena so we’re safe.”

Tyler whispered holding Y/n’s hand as they made their way down a dark hallway. He had just finished a match and despite still being in the arena; Tyler needed her now. He just couldn’t wait until they got back to the hotel. Stopping short Tyler turned pressing her against the wall, Y/n gasped at the contact of cold cement seeping through her shirt making her shiver as his warm body covered hers. Tyler’s lips met hers in a hungry kiss, his fingers pressing into the skin of her hips, Y/n let out a soft moan as he rocked into her.

“Been thinking of doing this all-day angel ever since we got out of bed this morning.”

“Ty please I need.”

“Shh I know baby just be a good girl and wait. I’ll give you just what you need.”

He kissed across her jaw and down her neck, his hands slipping under her shirt touching as much skin as he could. Her nipples pebbled under his touch and soft moans fell from her lips as he worked them between his fingers. Tyler couldn’t help the smirk that covered his lips at the sounds she was making.

“As much as I love playing with your tits my dad will be looking for us soon.”

He chuckled softly before yanking her pants down to her knees a soft gasp falling from her.

“Fuck you’re already wet for me and I’ve barely done anything.”

He whispered in her ear as he rubbed her core through the new panties he just bought her. Y/n whimpered and whined as he pushed the fabric to the side. Pulling his own shorts down he fisted his cock stroking it a few times before slowly sliding into her. Y/n moaned head falling back as he laced their fingers together, rocking his hips forward.

“So, fucking tight.”

He hissed giving her just a few moments to adjust to his size before he pulled out thrusting back in.

“I love you Ty baby so much.”

Y/n cried out her legs wrapping around his waist as he moved in and out of her, Tyler’s eyes met hers a gleam of happiness in them.

“I love you too starfish, forever.”

*Present day* Wiping the tears away Y/n huffed and reached over grabbing her phone sending a quick message to Taz.

‘I’ll be there tomorrow evening.’ ~ Taz watched the flights flash across the board, she should be off the plane and walking over to the baggage claim any moment now. Looking around Taz smiled mover making his way over when he finally spotted her, waiting till she grabbed her suitcase and turned around.

“Taz!”

“Hey firefly it’s so good to see you kiddo!”

Hugging her tightly he kissed the top of her head and grabbed her suitcase offering his arm for her as they made their way through the airport.

“Thanks again for coming Y/n I know that things haven’t been good between you twos but I’m worried and nothing else is working.”

“Are you sure he’s going to want to see me?”

“Honestly yes I do. You should have seen the way he was after you left, I don’t know why he ended things, but he was a mess afterwards. He doesn’t know that I heard him every time I passed his room or went to his door. I’ve told him more than once that breaking it off with you was stupid but he’s a grown ass adult. Here we go let’s get in and head for the arena he has a match tonight, so we’ll keep you hidden until afterwards.”

“What are we going to do if he gets mad and tells me to leave?”

“If you knew how miserable he’s been for the last eight months or so especially these the last few weeks even. I think seeing you would be more than good for him even if he doesn’t want to admit it. Maybe the two of you could finally talk and you can find out why things ended the way they did. If he really doesn’t, well then you can explore Chicago for a few days before going home. Or there is a ticket for tomorrow.”

“Yeah, having some closure would be really nice if I’m honest.”

“Closure yeah.”

Taz nodded holding the door for her to get in the car and walked around getting in the driver side. Nodding y/n went silent for a moment she had tried to figure out once again why he had left but she couldn’t and unless Tyler told her she would never know. That was another reason why she had eventually agreed to come all the way out here.

Taz really was hoping that this would be good on both ends for the two of them. Making the drive to the arena they talked about a bunch of different topics, the closer they got the more nervous Y/n became. Yes, she had always hoped to see Tyler again, but didn’t think she would. Y/n also hoped she’d be able to keep her cool when she seen him. But part of her couldn’t help arguing that he deserved her anger after all.

Parking the car, they slipped in through a back door and made their way down a couple hallways. Opening a door that was labeled HOOK, Taz stepped inside setting her case down and stepped to the side so she could enter.

“I have Tyler in my locker room for now he won’t be in here until after his match if you need me at all just send me a text. Here’s the remote, and this is the wifi password I’ll talk with you soon, sorry to rush but I need to get to commentary.”

Watching him leave, y/n looked around and sat down she couldn’t believe she was here again. Turning the tv on she searched for the channel that would play Dynamite. She hadn’t seen one of Tyler’s matches in a few months, so she was intrigued to see where his storyline was...

When his music hit Y/n’s breath hitched as she waited and then there he was, Taz was right he wasn’t himself. The rest of the world may not be able to tell very well but she could she knew Tyler better than she did anyone. Or at least she had, that’s why she was hoping he would be willing to see her tonight. The expression on his face and the lifelessness in his eyes. Shaking her head Y/n focused her attention on the screen watching as the match played out he was still just as fantastic as he’d always been.

“Come on Tyler.”

She whispered and smiled when he got the pin, Tyler stood up lifting his title then slipped out of the ring.

‘He’s on his way back just give it a few moments, good luck kiddo text if you need something’

‘Okay thank you’

Putting her phone on silent Y/n stood up and took a few breaths to calm herself down as she waited. When the door handle turned, she prepared herself and watched the door swing inward. His head was down so he didn’t see her right away until she spoke.

“Hello Tyler.”

Tyler’s head shot up quickly, he blinked rubbing the back of his head okay he must have been hit in the head too many times. Either he was hallucinating or Y/n was actually right in front of him.

“Y/n? What are you? Is it really you? How are you in my dressing room? What are you doing here?”

“Your father got ahold of me he said you haven’t been yourself lately and was hoping I could help somehow.”

Y/n shrugged her shoulders biting her lip as she watched him the door finally shut closing them in together.

“And you came here just for that? I didn’t think..I mean after everything I wouldn’t have expected you too.”

“Well, I hadn’t really planned on it at first but I was hoping for some closure but yeah, he said he thought you really needed me. And well I have some of my own reasons.”

Of course, it was his dad that got ahold of her, the thing he’d wanted to do for weeks and couldn’t bring himself to.

“What’s going on Ty, what’s the matter with you?”

Hearing that nickname sent a wave of sadness over him and a lump in his throat he had to swallow around. Tyler ran a hand through his hair, an action that was all too familiar to y/n he walked over until she was in arms reach.

“Feels like everything is crumbling around me I can barely sleep; I just feel so lost and I can’t seem to catch a break mentally.”

He mumbled as his eyes ran over her features, he couldn’t believe that she was actually in front of him right now.

“Have you ever felt like everything around you was just fine? The world in your immediate vicinity is doing rather well. But for you internally, mentally whatever it feels like nothing will ever be right again, and you can’t block out the world completely, so you just try to ignore it.”

Nodding her head slowly as she listened to him speak Y/n watched his expression.

“Yeah honestly I have, still do at times. How long has it been like this?”

“The night after Double or Nothing, when I…broke things off between us it was hard for a while then I thought it was getting better. But it wasn’t nothing has been good since that night and it’s just getting to be too much at this point.”

Y/n felt her heart break at the vulnerability in his voice. If there was one thing that never changed it was the way she always responded to his emotions. She wanted so badly to reach out and hug him, but she couldn’t bring herself to. The feelings of hurt and anger were still welling up inside of her.

“Before I do my best to try and help you, I need to know something. Why did you end things Tyler? If things are so bad, why did you end it between us? And I want the real reason because after talking to your dad I’m starting to believe what you were spewing before wasn’t the whole reason. We were doing amazing at least I thought we were, and even the six months before that when you were training a lot. But then suddenly, it’s not working? I want the truth. I at least deserve that.”

Y/n said and searched his face she wanted to know, she needed to know the real reason. Needed to know the reason that caused her to lay awake at night, her tears falling on her pillow as she tried to think of what she did or said that made him leave.

“I told you already we just couldn’t-.”

“Don’t lie to me Tyler and tell me the truth and I mean the whole truth!”

Y/n snapped and cupped his face making him look at her and not allowing him to break eye contact. The feeling of his skin against hers still sent a spark through her but she ignored it.

“Before I was your girlfriend, I was one of your best friends, we knew each other better than we knew ourselves. And we almost always knew when the other was lying and that is what you’re doing. Now why did you leave me? Why did you end things between us when they were going so well? You just dropped me, Tyler. Like I was nothing. Like our whole relationship was nothing.”

She said letting him go and paced the floor in front of him she didn’t mean to snap but she couldn’t help herself. She was pissed, and still hurt. Swallowing she blinked back the tears and continued.

“Instead of being a man and talking to me about whatever was wrong you just tossed me to the side and didn’t even have the decency to try and fight for what we had. You may not have cared or thought I deserved a reason, but I do. I just want to know.”

“Because I was scared Y/n. You’re right, you know me better than anyone and you know that fear is not something I feel too often but when it came to our relationship, I was scared shitless. My feelings got too real, too intense so fast and I didn’t know how to handle it, so I just swept it all under the rug and ran.”

Tyler admitted, his head dropping, he didn’t know what else to say but he knew she had every right to know. It felt good being able to admit this to her and he didn’t know why the hell he hadn’t done it sooner. Then again, he’d grown up a lot during their time apart and realized that just because his feelings seemed to be too much too fast that it was okay.

“I’m sorry, I truly am I wanted to reach out to you a couple months after I wanted to make things better, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I know it doesn’t seem like I cared, especially with the way I went about everything, but I did. I loved you more than I ever had another person. You were everything to me. I wasn’t emotionally mature enough to handled everything. I know that’s not an excuse either but I’m laying it all out like you want.”

He was not used to being vulnerable and hated how it made him feel but maybe letting this all out would be the start of him getting back to normal. He knew that Y/n didn’t owe him anything so to say he was completely surprised when she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly was an understatement. Tyler’s arms wound around her waist and held her just as tightly to him and felt like he could finally breathe for the first time in a long time.

Y/n wasn’t sure how long they stood together like that just the two of them holding each other tightly but it felt good. Tears slid down her cheeks as she held onto him, this was something she’d been dreaming of. The relief of finally knowing it wasn’t anything she did, the anger knowing if he would have just come to her about everything they could of worked on it together. The sadness of all the time they had lost whirled around inside her. But for the time being she pushed it away and just focused on the fact she was getting to hold him again.

“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to do this again.”

Tyler mumbled into her neck and reluctantly loosened his grip so he could look at her.

“Probably as badly as I’ve wanted to, I can’t believe that all this time.”

“I know I’m really sorry.”

Taking his hand Y/n pulled him to sit beside her on the couch and rubbed his hand that was still clasped between hers. Tyler shook his head and leaned back against the cushions a soft smile on his face.

“I can’t believe you’re actually here, how long for?”

“Well, we weren’t sure how this was going to go so I have two tickets one for tomorrow and the other is four days from tomorrow.”

“Would you be willing to keep the second one, I really think we need to sit down and talk all of this out more.”

“I wouldn’t have come all this way if I didn’t think that we could talk afterwards if you were willing. So yes lets get your stuff together and head somewhere maybe we could get some food because you really look like you need something to eat after that match.”

“You watched?”

“Yes, I always used to love watching your matches and I haven’t seen any in a while, so you have a lot to catch me up on.”

Tyler’s smile widened as he pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, he knew this didn’t fix anything, but he still couldn’t help himself. They gathered their suitcases and made their way out of the arena to the parking lot where his rental car was. While putting their suitcases in the backseat Y/n sent a quick text to Taz then climbed in the passenger seat.

‘Going to get something to eat and then talk with him we have a lot we need to deal with’

Taz pulled his phone out since it was a commercial break and smiled as he read over the message sending a reply wishing her the best of luck and then sent one to Tyler.

‘If it works out treat her right this time boy don’t let your fear get in the way of what or rather who you love most.’

*Seen*

#hook aew #hook fanfiction #hook x reader #tyler senerchia #aew hook

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sapphire-writes · 2 years

Text

Sweet Fruit ~ Jacaerys Velaryon

summary: for fans of Fire&Blood and the rumors that circulated that Lady Jeyne would align with Rheanyra if Prince Jacaerys could please her with his tongue.

word count: 536

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Snow!reader

rating: language, mentions of pleasuring with one’s mouth, not super smutty more teasing, could be tempted to write a smutty p2

EDIT: I am easily convinced here is part 2 🥵

A/N: I’m not a Jace girl personally (Aemond owns me) but I wrote this scenario originally with Sara Snow but wanted to share 🔥

“Your grace,” a voice called, and you suddenly appeared in the training yard, eyes aglow with mischief.

Jacaerys Velaryon’s heart quickened, to his dismay, at the arrival of the beautiful lady.

Though your name was Snow, you were clearly a Stark.

You smiled, knowingly, an apple held carefully in your palm.

“My lady,” Jace said, out of habit. You made a tsking sound.

“Kind of you, your grace, for I am no lady,” you said, still smiling.

“Was there something you wanted?” Jace said, his annoyance getting the better of him.

Jace was a gentleman, and had never had trouble staying true to his word. Baela was his betrothed, and that was all fine and well with him. But for some reason this Northern bastard made his dragon blood run hot.

“There is, your grace,” you said, stalking around him. Jace rolled his eyes.

“Well?” he asked, trying not to let his voice break with desperation.

“My brother told me the strangest thing,” you said, giving Jace a one-over with your eyes.

He felt his cheeks flush as though he were a maiden in a song.

“He told me, that you secured the Eyrie, with a very interesting promise,” you said and Jace groaned.

Lady Jeyne had been infatuated with him when he stopped at his first mission on the way to Winterfell.

“It is not true,” Jace said, feeling the flush creep to his neck. You cocked an eyebrow.

“Are you sure?” you teased, enjoying the shade of red Jace was turning.

“Yes,” he said firmly. You nodded, suppressing a smile. The apple you held danced from hand to hand.

“So you did not eat her cunt, as one does a peach?” you asked and Jace’s jaw slacked, mouth falling open in shock.

“N-no,” he said, stunned at your language. You smiled wolfishly.

“Was it a different fruit?” you asked, suddenly turning the apple you held, “an apple perhaps?”

Jace was at a loss for words. You feigned concern.

“You do know how to pleasure a woman, your grace,” you continued and Jace felt his ears burn and his cock twitch to his dismay.

“I know how to do it!” he said, seething. You smiled again, pleased at the rise you were getting out of him.

“So when you ate her, was it like this?” you asked, taking a dramatic bite out of the apple, juices flowing down your chin. You moaned in pleasure.

“Or like this?” you said, mouth full and taking yet another bite.

Jace’s cock ached watching the juice dribble down your chin as you laughed wickedly.

“That is enough!” Jace said and he launched towards you, grabbing the apple from your nimble fingers and tossing it into the snow.

You swallowed what you had bitten, and the both of you stayed close together.

“Aren’t you going to show me?” you asked, so close Jace could feel your breath.

“What?” he asked, the scent of firewood and apples making him delirious with desire.

“We don’t need an apple,” you told him, peering up at him through your lashes.

You barked out a laugh and suddenly pulled away.

“Brother!” you called, as a Cregan Stark entered the training yard, pushing by Jace to greet him.

“Sister, my prince,” Cregan greeted, curiosity written on his face.

#jacaerys velaryon #jace velaryon #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys fic #jacaerys x you #jacaerys valaryon x reader #jacaerys smut #jacaerys velaryon smut #jacaerys velaryon imagine #jacaerys imagine #hotd jacaerys #Jacaerys x y/n #jace x reader #hotd #hotd imagine #hotd x reader

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roseonne · 6 months

Text

next time

Mephistopheles attempts to ask you out on White Day.

a mephisto x mc / reader for white day ! ( ao3 link )

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚

"Alright. Class dismissed."

Finally.

Mephistopheles lets out the mental groan he's been holding onto since the beginning of class, around three eons ago. (He's exaggerating, obviously, but three hours did feel an awful lot longer today, for some reason.) Normally, being stuck to his chair with his ears almost hurting from hearing the significance of magical potions and their hazards, not only to humans but to angels and demons as well, over and over again, is a tolerable occurrence for him. So now, seeing that he's seemingly over everything that's had happened to him within the span of just one day, irritates the life out of him.

Hastily, and with a hint of recklessness, the RAD Newspaper Club (former) president wastes not a moment in gathering up his things and taking his leave.

Oh, thus he realizes, whilst on his way out.

Maybe that's what's keeping him so preoccupied? The piled-up articles he still has to proofread and publish; the photos in his camera that he's to edit first, then upload to the official RAD Website; and a terrifyingly long list of all the other deadlines he ought to catch up to, academic and personal matters combined.

A sigh of distress escapes the noble demon's lips. Without much thought, he fetches his D.D.D. out of his pocket and the screen immediately comes to life.

03/14/XXXX 4:46 P.M. Today's Daily Reminder: "Don't forget to celebrate White Day in your own, special way!" -Lord Diavolo

Well. That explains it.

Troubled, Mephistopheles runs his fingers through his hair, tousling the locks he made sure to keep as neat and tidy as possible. As much as he desires to fulfill Lord Diavolo's honorable (although sometimes questionable) requests, just how in the Devildom is he to juggle all his tasks and duties at once? He has his work cut out for him today, and for the rest of the week. Such a poor demon he's become. And to make things even more complicated on his end, apparently, he isn't getting any of his listed items done right on schedule. Unfortunately so.

For as if in response to his already-raging psychological turmoil, the universe provides him with the biggest, most troublesome distraction he's yet to learn to ignore and conquer...

Mephistopheles sees you.

"MC!" he calls out from the top of his lungs suddenly, surprising both you and himself as his voice appears to have acted against his will. And the fact that he rushes to your side upon instinct truly isn't helping him in the slightest. "Fancy bumping into you now of all times."

"Mephisto!" You greet him with a smile, and right away, he feels the warmth of you emanating from the center of his chest. "Good work today!"

"Likewise." Mephistopheles places a hand over his heart and bows at you slightly. "Are you heading home now?"

Your polite nod in confirmation to his query earns a rather sharp click of the demon's tongue.

"Isn't it too early for that?" Mephistopheles raises an eyebrow. "Why don't I do you the honor of inviting you out with me for dinner, perhaps? Of course, on behalf of Lord Diavolo and the rest of RAD, we're grateful for your efforts in keeping the exchange program alive!"

The noble demon senses you feeling a little taken aback; and he understands. He figures you're probably aware of how busy he is, considering how tedious it is being the main individual manning the RAD Newspaper Club. Again, even he is growing more and more perplexed at how his body's acting. Doesn't he have so many things to do? How is he able to make it seem like he's got so much time to spare while keeping a straight face? Oh, Diavolo. He no longer recognizes himself at all.

"Uhm..." you find yourself stuttering, evidently unsure as to the kind of answer you'll provide your current pursuer.

"If you're wondering how we'll meet, I'll pick you up at the House of Lamentation by seven." But Mephistopheles is more than ready to hush each and every one of your possible concerns.

Shifting a little of your weight over to your other foot, you hum quite a playful, "Well..."

Crossing his arms, but raising his index finger in the air, the demon proudly declares, "It'll be my treat, MC. Don't worry. I got you."

And you've made up your mind; Mephistopheles recognizes the familiar light in your eyes the moment your gazes briefly met and locked.

"MC, there you are!"

But what perfect timing. In the midst of his persuasion, here comes the residents of Purgatory Hall. And the brothers of the House of Lamentation. And well, basically everyone else you hold very close to your heart.

Clearing his throat in a slight panic, Mephistopheles tries to regain your attention, "MC, please. If you would justー"

He's too late.

"I'm so sorry, Mephisto." It's the sincerest, most bittersweet apology he's been told so far. "Maybe next time!" you add quickly, as you at last get dragged farther and farther away from him.

Down the drain, goes his infrequent chance with you, yet again. Mephistopheles squeezes his eyes closed and chews on his lower lip; his mind all blank, save for the resentfulness looming heavily over him. Forget about his deadlines; his tasks; his duties; his role in the future of Devildom. Is it too much for him to ask a mere moment of your time? Is he never really going to learn more about you at this point?

Mephistopheles doesn't see it as a fair game anymore. He's one of the first few demons who's heard of your name the very day you arrived at the Devildom; and yet at least a minute of decent, proper conversation between the two of you, alone, still remains beyond his reach.

Seeing you share the smile that he is able to somehow find comfort in with everyone else, except him... He admits, it causes a twinge of pain to swell across his chest.

How many next time's have you promised him by now, anyway? He bets you won't remember, either.

But since he isn't the type to just sit in a corner and cry; maybe he just has to keep trying, then? Like the lessons in class, over and over. He must push forward, until hopefully one day, you'll learn to look at him from a perspective different from the one you have of him at present.

...Great.

Looks like he's added yet another questionable thing up his list; which he normally would've called a pain in the rear, but it's you he's thinking of so... You're the exception. His exception. You always are, and always have been.

Guess I'll have to try something harder than initiating conversations, Mephistopheles brings his eyes to the sky and promises; to you and to himself. Next time.

And once he succeeds in this mission of forever, only then can he say...

That he's indeed made the progress he so longs for. With you.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #mephistopheles #mephistopheles x mc #mephistopheles x reader #gender neutral reader #white day #this is a coming out post #for being a mephisto enjoyer #T_T #i cri girls boys and in betweens he so fine #inside seonne's head

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myownwutheringheights · 2 years

Text

Trying

Rating and AN: M. Minors DNI. You are responsible for your own media consumption and have been warned. Not beta read, what is editing. It’s not perfect but it’s mine 🥰 Enjoy the combo of Fluff & Filth

Fandom: Daredevil

Pairing: Matt Murdock x f!reader, established relationship

Warnings: Post sex, discussion of unprotected sex (wrap it up!)/unprotected p in v/hormonal birth control talk/sex with the intent of pregnancy, Matt Murdock should have his own warning, author has a breeding kink that she refuses to apologize for

Summary: You’re basking in the afterglow of you and Matt trying for a baby for the first time

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The cozy, almost sleepy feeling was starting to overcome you both as you both settled into the bed. Your heart rate was beginning to settle and calm, your breathing returned to normal, perhaps even slower than normal. More content. It felt like pure peace in the afterglow of the intense love making you’d shared. Matt had settled behind you, leaving you as the happy little spoon. Your head rested against the cradle of his arm and shoulder, his arm lined up with yours. His fingers laced with yours while his legs were tangled with yours, bare chest to your back, your ass rested against his lap, his cock still hard against you, and you know you’d go again for another round soon.

He was a man on a mission. You’d read it it in his expression, in the way he’d moved with you with every thrust till he’d come inside you. You still felt warm with his seed buried deep in you, and some of it dripping from you.

But perhaps your favorite with this position was the placement of his other arm, draped around your lower abdomen, as if willing the act of creation to occur in that very moment, and you couldn’t seem to wipe away the gentle smile on your face. “I don’t think it happens that fast, Matty,” you chuckle gently, lovingly teasing him. You loved the feeling of his hand there. You didn’t want the warmth of his palm to leave you. You felt so safe and protected wrapped up in him, protected in the arms of the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. And you knew his hand would stay there whenever your belly would swell and grow from his child.

He answered your chuckle with one of his own. “Yes, I know. But a man can hope….imagine,” he smiled, that glorious smile, placing soft kisses against your shoulder. You settled more into his arms if it was possible, curling against him as you tug the sinfully soft sheets up more as you snuggle up. He smiles even more as you wiggle in; you want to be closer. “My sweet girl….nesting already?”

You nod playfully, knowing he feels it. “Sure am. And you’re pretty comfy.” All abs and muscle. Warm. But even draped in his arms with the smell of sex and desire still in the air, cozy and comfy and content, you still want him closer.

“I’m right here…” he reassures you as you fight to get as close as you can and Matt lets out the most amazing sound as you rub against his still hard cock, more precum dripping from him. “If you don’t stop that, I’ll have to fuck you again” He nips down at the sensitive curve of your neck this time, making you let out a gasp as he clutches you tighter in his arms. “Is that what you want? For me to come inside you again? Till you’re overflowing with me?”

You bite down on your lip and a small whimper escapes as he scatters tender kisses over you. “You like being this way don’t you? With my cum inside you, dripping out of you?” His voice was lower with lust as he snaked his hand between your legs, fingers grazing over the seed and slick that had leaked from you, making you whimper again. You can’t even form words, couldn’t answer his filthy question if you tried. “And don’t try lying, your heart’s racing.” As if you needed a reminder of how well he can read you, how well he knows you.

You let out a cry as Matt presses two fingers inside your sensitive folds, pushing his cum that had dripped out back inside you and it’s so achingly intimate. “Don’t let a drop go to waste, sweetheart,” he whispered with a brush of his lips against your ear, tugging ever so slightly at your earlobe, knowing what his words did to you. “God, I can’t wait to feel your body change,” he says, making you smile at the idea as he kisses along your jaw as he continues to move his fingers inside you, knowing every inch of you, knowing just how you like it till you you gasp out and he captures your mouth in his.

His lips part yours, your tongues dancing as he slowly pulls his fingers out from you. What remains on his fingers he brings up to your mouth and you greedily take his two fingers into your mouth, his juices mixed with yours. You nip on the pads of his finger tips, and ensure he can hear you swallow. “That’s my good girl,” his smile is radiant.

“Stop talking and kiss me, Murdock.” He knows full well your smile matches his own as you pull him down for a long, warm and deeply intimate kiss. You wanted to memorize this moment, this feeling of basking in the afterglow and the feeling of his love and hope for the what the future would hold.

You two had talked about kids from early on; debating and questioning if it was the right choice. Not for lack of wanting, no, it was something you both wanted. There was just so much to consider and there was an elephant in the room; children and vigilantes didn’t seem like the best combination. He was Daredevil, you knew this. He’d always be Daredevil. And you loved both sides of him; you accepted both parts of his life. You were a little too familiar to the risk and danger his world and his secret work presented. You knew full well what you could lose…..everything.

But life was always risk. There were no promises or guarantees.

And you wanted this. You wanted him, and all he could give you and all you could give him. You wanted a family with him. The same way he wanted this with you. And when you’d told him you wanted this, you were saying yes to both parts of him being the father of your child. And you’d never forget that look, the surprise and joy written in his expression and that smile slowly spreading across his face when you’d silenced your birth control alarm for good, and thrown out what was left. He’d longed for this with you, not even truly being able to imagine himself being a father till he met you. But he’d wanted to be absolutely sure you were ready. And now you both were ready for this, you both wanted this.

Together.

Maybe you’d thought you both could have changed your minds a month later or more, after getting the birth control out of your system. Or maybe one or both of you would have felt different when you told him you were ovulating. Or after you’d made love, and tried for the first time, after you screamed his name and begged him to come inside you, after he’d roared out and after he’d spilled inside you without protection. With no barriers. But it was the opposite. The feeling of bliss was brighter than the neon sign outside your apartment. The bed felt more comfortable, the sheets felt softer and you couldn’t imagine a better feeling. Matt was kissing you with his hands cupped along your cheek and the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair, and he was moving to climb back on top of you, desperate to get back inside you. To try over and over, filling you up with him. Your legs spread for him and wrapped on instinct around his waist to draw him in as one arm clung to the strong muscles of his back, the other moving into his dark hair. He moans, his scalp sensitive as your fingers move through his hair.

“You plan to keep me up all night?” You tease as your hand leaves his hair to cup his cheek as he kisses you again and again, making you giggle.

“That was my plan. Any complaints?” The corner of his mouth curved into that cocky smile you loved so much.

“None whatsoever…” you whisper, resting your forehead to his, taking a peaceful moment, still basking in those feelings of utter contentment, settling back into the pillows. “Matt?” You whisper, “you’re going to be an amazing dad…”

He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, he stays there, rested against you and nearly inside you. You run your fingers up and down his back, waiting for him to speak when he’s ready. He touches his hand to your chin to tilt your head up ever so slightly, kissing your forehead, your temple, and finally your lips, slow and sweet with a promise of so many things. “Thank you…” it’s all he could say, the emotions choked up in his throat as he deepens that kiss. He wanted to say so much more; how much that meant to him, how he’d do his best. How he’d fight for you, fight for your children till his last breath. But he didn’t say those things now; there was plenty of time to tell you those things. “And you, y/n, you are going to be the most amazing mother,” his voice was so tender and gentle as his arms wrapped around you tight and secure. Safe.

Home.

“Then what are you waiting for? Give me a baby.” You’ve never felt so certain and so excited for anything in your life.

“With pleasure,” he says, with one last smirk on his handsome face. All that mattered to him in this moment was taking care of you, giving you what you asked, and what he also so desperately wanted. Tonight he was a man determined, with one goal. The love of your life, the man who would be the father of your children, your Matthew, your Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.

All other thoughts left you, and then you were already crying out his name, content in his arms, begging for him as he fills you up to try once more.

#netflix daredevil #marvel #daredevil #Matt Murdock #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x fem!reader smut #charlie cox #daredevil fanfiction #matt murdock fanfic #marvel's daredevil #matt murdock fanfiction #marvel mcu #mcu #devil of hell’s kitchen

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l4long-winded · 1 year

Text

iv. the distraction of rising temperature

summary: now that you and sherlock are at a friendlier standing, it's time to explore more of your friendship. or whatever it is (cavill!sherlock x afab!reader)

reflection: i am terribly sorry that this took so long. i just wanted everything to be how i envisioned it and of course, i ended up overdoing it. i have that nasty habit of rereading and editing until i have a singular part. then, i do it all again with the next and the next until it becomes far too much. i intended this series to be shorter, but alas, some things are not meant to be. please enjoy and feedback is always appreciated and encouraged!

warnings: seamstress!reader, conflicted!sherlock, reader has a nickname, flirting, fluff, close proximity, mystery brewing, cursing, longwinded descriptions, overthinking, sherlock is in deep denial, suggestive language, alcohol consumption, enola makes an appearance, off screen character death, somewhat slowburn, enemies to lovers, sherlock observes reader, a fitting with far too many boundaries crossed, sexual tension, victorian era, eventual smut (please let me know if there are other warnings i need to add)

word count: 10,023

previously: mr. wright and jane austen

( this work has been cross posted on ao3 )

This is the second time you face the golden 221B in front of you and it’s definitely different than the first time, less animosity, about the same nerves, much more intrigue. After you received your book from Sherlock, he seemingly began to appear frequently around the building and around your shop. Only a couple of days passed by and you could recall seeing his recognizable frame through the window strolling by, through his voyages to and from his flat in which he would say nothing but give a slight nod of his head in acknowledgment. He certainly must know you found the book, but it’s clear he won’t approach unless you do so first out of respect for your boundaries. While his note conveyed his desire to restart fresh, it didn’t mean he would go out of his way to assume what you decided to do. Something about that sustained reverence is what pulled you to his door this afternoon, this being the sole amount of free time you’ve had in these troubling times. You’re steady as you breathe in and out for some extra confidence and to quite possibly shake some traveling nerves (it barely helps).

Once you dictate yourself as ready, you rap onto the door and take a single step backwards when you remember how much space Sherlock takes up on his lonesome. The last time, when he insulted you and disregarded your noise complaint, you felt rather small not just by his words, but by your stature compared to his. He loomed over you and narrowed his eyes in a way that caused you to lose hold of your convictions for just a moment, but the moment was enough for him to gain the upper hand, a shark smelling blood in the water. You’re convinced he’s not going to purposely agitate you this time around, but you also don’t want to accidentally toss him another opportunity. You’re hopeful he’ll be true to his word, not stupid enough to drop your guard. You still barely know anything about each other and strangers took advantage of people all the time.

The door comes open with a haste you’re not prepared for and you can’t help but take a half step back from it in reaction. Your hands capture themselves in front of your abdomen in efforts to balance yourself, as if the pull of the door would suction you inside and awkwardly leave you standing in Sherlock’s flat without invitation. It’s hardly a dramatized action since you feel the air surrounding whip around the rebellious strands of hair framing your face. Except, as you ground yourself and shuffle your feet, the person standing in front of you is very obviously not Sherlock, but a young woman with familiar features. Her eyes widen upon recognition of you, her head turning back to look into Sherlock’s flat for what appears to be answers.

“It’s a woman,” she calls back and it gives you the indication that you probably interrupted the two from some sort of discussion. It would explain her haste and why Sherlock’s marching over in what you surmise is in a mix of impatience and irritation. “Were you expecting a seamstress?” The girl asks as Sherlock gets closer and you can see him pause as he gains a better look at you, your eyes locking onto his despite the young woman sitting in between the two of you. From your peripheral vision, you could see her engaging in careful glances switching back and forth between you and Sherlock, an attempt present to decipher what the correlation to one another is since Sherlock’s offered silence. His gait’s suffered a stop enough for the girl to draw on her inspection and you’re not prepared for her scrutiny while seemingly under his.

“Give us a moment,” he finally utters, his eyebrows pinching together in the process of giving the young woman a simple, yet loaded, look. You may not know what’s going on here, but you’re aware of this look having been on the receiving end of one and having conjured it on your own. She seems to quickly catch on and she backs away with her hands up from the door and floats into the flat without further questions. Sherlock seems grateful for her lack of continued communication as he steps through the frame and shuts the door behind him.

“Excuse my sister… Enola’s fully prepared to insert herself into anyone’s business at any time if she becomes interested in any form.” Ah, his sister. That’s what looked so familiar about her. Well, you probably should have guessed it from how she quickly came to the conclusion that you were a seamstress. You suppose that such observational skills run in the family. That dynamic must be insufferable to be around, but you came from your own version of chaos in a family. There’s hardly room for judgment.

“She’s curious, huh? Sounds like she’s trying to mimic someone we both know.” You’re teasing, of course, teasing with an inkling of truth to your choice of words. To your amusement, you watch in real time as Sherlock exhales and musters a small smile.

“Trust me, she doesn’t want to be like me,” he replies and you ponder what he could possibly mean for a second since Enola’s enthusiasm proved to you in a shortened time frame of just how much she matches Sherlock. Your hesitation to ask about it warrants him to continue speaking. “You’re not at work at this hour?”

Somehow, he’s accounted for your schedule and you’re taken aback for an interlude. He doesn’t budge or comprehend how this information is not common knowledge so you have a feeling he’s not trying to be all knowing or superior. It’s perhaps something that just happens to him whether he’s in control of it or not. “No, I didn’t have too much to do today so I decided to take a break. I actually wanted to speak with you about something, but it seems as if I’ve arrived at a bad time.” You don’t want to interrupt him and his sister and could always return later, but Sherlock waves it off and crosses his arms.

“It’s not a bad time at all. Please,” he presses his arms forward into the air, “continue. I trust you received my informal letter?”

“That I did… Thank you for the book. I love it. I have my own copy back home, but I failed to bring it with me during the move. It’s already helped immensely.” You can’t stop yourself from beaming thinking about it. It’s been something to turn to when your brain’s overloaded or your hands are itching for relief from remaining in the same position for so long.

“I’m glad to hear it. Jane Austen’s work doesn’t get nearly enough attention. I assume it’s because people are too behind to understand.” He shrugs his shoulders because it really is an unfortunate circumstance. While she has some traction, much more than when she was alive, you and Sherlock both know why that traction isn’t grander or why she didn’t become acclaimed until later on. It’s a stark elephant in the hall, but you choose not to address it and shake your head to change the subject.

“Well, as much as I appreciate the gesture, I do hate how you’ve ruined the mystery of your name. I was going with Shoulders Holmes before you had to add your input.” Your hands come up to your hips in a mock scolding. It achieves the desired effect as Sherlock releases his arms from the hold against his chest and he stares at you with levity in his eyes. Him and his damn bluer-than-blue eyes.

“At least you had something to go off. I’ve referred to you as Lily for a while now.” The confession causes your hand to come up and grasp your charm out of habit and you want to release it the second you do, but you endure where you are as you try and study his face. It’s not the most terrible nickname since you enjoyed flowers, but it’s come out of left field.

“Not bad,” you exhale, “but my name is Y/N. Or… if you wish to call me Lily, I wouldn’t be opposed.” You grasp the charm tighter, though you’re not sure why you feel inclined to do so. You shouldn’t care so much what he would think of your name as even if he doesn’t, it’s not something you could change. His validation ought to mean nothing to you, and yet as you stare up at him, you feel relief flood your system as he repeats it to you. Warmth nuzzles across your back and shoulders and you could swear the same comes up to hug the apples of your cheeks, all because Sherlock saying your name is a new experience and sensation you didn’t know you could be so fond of. It eloquently rolls off his tongue and his tone is one of approval.

“So, we’re officially acquaintances, then? No longer mortal enemies who glare at each other from across the stairs?” You can’t help but laugh at the dramatics of the situation. But looking back, glaring at each other or refusing to acknowledge one another did seem to be the pattern you both fell into. You feel sheepish about how you acted, but from his body language, he also seems to be ashamed of his antics. His question was genuine as much as he intended it to sound as if he was joking.

“Correct, officially acquaintances. And I, your new acquaintance, have a proposal for you.” You watch as confusion flits over Sherlock’s face. The lines he does have are there from thinking, you can tell. “I want to help you with your investigation.”

This is not what Sherlock expects. His eyebrows raise in incredulity as he regards you. The movement in his shoulders tells you how he’s restraining himself, but you can’t tell if it’s from celebrating or expressing to you of his surprise. He persists in his stillness, quiet befalling the both of you as you look into the depths of his eyes and he traces them at different points of your facial structure and then different points of your body. Normally, a man gazing this intently at you would cause you to protect yourself and hide away, but you can almost see the cogs shifting inside of Sherlock’s head. He does what most don’t and that’s think before he speaks, analyze before jumping to conclusions that may be wrong. Considering how he’s done that before and it ended with you two disliking each other, you don’t say anything to properly give him his time of contemplation.

“I sense a condition of some sort incoming,” he decides on after a beat and you fidget with your hands because he’s right, you do have a condition. You didn’t come up here for just a friendly chat as you had days to mull over what you wanted to say to him and how you two could move forward from starting off on the wrong foot.

“Right,” you begin, and you know he hears that too often, “I want to help you with your investigation, but only if you come down to my shop and allow me to fit you for something. You don’t have to buy anything, I’m not trying to be bought,” you reassure him, “but I also could use some more business. What I’m implying here is that we could help each other out.”

Sherlock is still again. He doesn’t display to you much besides that recurring restraint. You don’t know how he could possibly read you and you could barely do the same to him, but it doesn’t stop you from trying. You stand taller to appear more confident in this and you wait for him to say something with bated breath. There are a number of ways he can respond and you lean more towards rejection than anything else. You wouldn’t be angry if he refused this altogether, there’s nothing obligating either of you to each other just because you’re now standing on common ground. He wants to say something, you can see it playing at his lips, but it’s difficult to dwell on because suddenly the both of you lightly startle hearing Enola’s voice through the door, “I have places to be, Sherlock!”

The impromptu rushing has you falter. You’re sure he’ll wave you away now, but he doesn’t create any rampant motions. He simply looks at you one last time before he speaks, “I’ll think about it.” That’s all you could ask of him since the task isn’t the most conventional of sorts. It came to fruition because of how you didn’t recognize his gift as a full reason to forgive him for his past behavior. There’s also something particularly sleazy about the idea of Sherlock presenting you with a gift of your liking solely to encourage your succor in his work, a light test behind asking him of this. By how he didn’t immediately leap at the opportunity, you’re guessing his heart was in the right place and cease those questions burdening you, the ones asking of his intentions and morals.

You depart thereafter with a polite dip of your head, one he mirrors before he watches you retreat to the stairs. It’s when you’re out of his sight that he enters his flat once more, his sister sitting comfortably in the chair at his desk. He needs to talk with her about areas being off limits because this is becoming ridiculous at this point.

“It’s about time,” Enola chimes, which in turn leads to Sherlock rolling his eyes. He resumes what he did before you knocked on his door and that’s tending to the map in front of him where Enola marked off new spots for him to travel to. They helped each other from time to time and she would soon be off embarking on another adventure he would wind up worrying over with the dangers of the world in his head. He’s examining the map with a comical magnifying glass, too busy immersing himself back into the work because he doesn’t want his mind to stray to you. Lately, it’s been doing that more than he could handle and such a detriment in focus must be tended to accordingly. While you hold the fabric he’s chased for ages now in your possession, he’s treading lightly since any interaction with you might further cloud his head. This is a phenomenon he’s not used to.

“You could use a new tie,” Enola says, breaking him free of his current task. He attempts to imagine she’s not sitting there to continue, at most shooting her an annoyed glare. Still, he can’t completely ignore her. There’s a reason she said what she said, why she chose those certain words, why she’s lying because she knows he has an impressive tie collection.

“I could’ve sworn I’ve talked with you about eavesdropping.” He doesn’t notice her stand until she reaches for the magnifying glass from him. He stands at his full height and looks down at her, again in agitation as he watches her continue on with his task. It’s like she knows he’s trying to corral his thoughts towards this subject to not stray away against his best wishes.

“I’m just making an observation. If you’re going to a fitting, why not?” Sherlock refrains from scoffing. He didn’t decide to attend yet and here Enola goes acting as if he has a plan set in stone to visit you at your shop. It confirms her eavesdropping, but he doesn’t want to give away any more information than that. Enola cannot know of how much you’re in his head, how he accidentally fell into a repetition of observing you from afar, how he wrote you a note and sent you his copy of Persuasion by Jane Austen. He knows his sister and she will just get the wrong idea. He knows what this may look like to her and that could be farther from the truth.

“... She’s pretty.”

It’s the last thing Sherlock anticipates for Enola to say. While she regularly institutes new ways to catch him off guard, this is not one he could have accounted for easily. His ego alerts him he could have prevented this had he just given more thought to what is lurking through her young mind, but alas, it’s too late for him. She’s said her piece and he now has no choice but to scrutinize it deeper than it needs to be. He doesn’t want to explore anything to do with that factor or anything relating, but Enola’s robbed him of his decorum and magnifying glass, left him a foreboding entity standing at his own desk with nothing to do but think back to how you stood before him just moments ago. You and your imperfect hair pinned to your head save for the defiant strands that love to dangle over your eyes, you and your fluttering lashes that you’re unaware almost whisp to your cheekbones from the length and fan, you and that cheeky smile adorning your lips when you say something teasing or sarcastic.

Enola’s observation is not unprecedented or incorrect. As much as he wants to declare to Enola that you’re indeed unpleasant to look at, he can’t bring himself to do so. You’re attractive, he’s known this already. He didn’t need Enola’s opinion on it. Especially not since such an opinion has led his head to recall the curves within your facial structure, the slope of your neck, how the lily of the valley rests right above your accentuated chest, how the corset cruelly punctuates your hips almost as if they’re beckoning in a pair of hands to rest upon them. These are the thoughts he wishes to avoid. They’re distractions to him and his work, they make his palms feel clammy, his fingers twitch on his desk as he imagines the pair of hands referred to on your hips as his own. This hasn’t happened to him before. He doesn’t know how to approach it or push the less than gentlemanly images beginning to flood his mind.

Thankfully, Enola passes him back his magnifying glass. “Earth to Sherlock,” she says and he’s centering himself back to this reality. He merely gives her a look before he returns to the map. He won’t dare say a thing. Enola’s too much like him and she would know something’s bothering him inside whether his comments were negative, agreeable, or neutral. It’s not worth fanning the flames of her active imagination.

You’re at the front desk busying yourself with checking off commissions and reworking invoices on parchment paper. Mrs. Thomas is there again at a nearby chair resting her feet before she goes home. She’s attended this shop often and you would regard her as a friend by how much you see her if it weren’t for how she’s a paying customer and how her closeness with your father wrote any of her actions off as mourning and pity in your eyes. You don’t want to necessarily see it this way, but it’s difficult not to with how she always seems to smile at you with sympathy lurking in her pupils. As much as you appreciate it, you’re tired of people looking at you with emotion rather than respect since you’re running this shop on your own. Even before, your father may have done a lot, but it’s you who’s created clothing under your former roof with your mother and sister. You don’t think that credit will ever be rightfully handed to you with how everyone cautiously addresses you.

The sad part is that each time it happens, you are hit with the painful reminder of how your father is gone. You’re already constantly thinking of that on your own and it follows you to your work since his last name is plastered on the building and sewed into the tags of the clothing you design. It’s bitter icing on top of the cake for your (his) remaining customers to come in here and talk to you about it or subconsciously bring the fact forth with how they maneuver their facial expressions towards you. Running on fumes is not easy at all and it’s harder with complex emotions involved.

The bell to your front door rings alerting you of a customer walking in. Their steps are heavy on your floorboards and there’s about three taken until you lift your head to view who’s entered your establishment. It’s those broad shoulders you’re sure you could recognize from kilometers away, his face a bit weary as he takes in the area of the shop for the first time inside instead of searching through the window. He walks to you slowly and instead of allowing this awkward gait to greet you at your desk, you round the obstruction and meet him halfway on the path. He pauses in front of you and you’re unable to suppress the grin forming on your features in surprise and disbelief that he came so soon. You thought he would take longer to think about what you offered, perhaps a few days, not mere hours.

“Pardon me,” he begins, “you wouldn’t happen to know where I could possibly be fitted for a tie around here, would you? My sister instructed me how I was in dire need of one.” Much like your own grin is growing by the second, as is his with his emboldened statement feigning cluelessness. You tap your chin in pretend thought as you look up at him, one arm tucking beneath your elbow across your chest.

“Ah, you have a wise sister. You’ve come to the right place. We have a large assortment of ties. Is there anything specific you’re searching for?”

“Whichever you deem best,” he responds almost instantly, his face leaning towards yours in the process for just you alone to hear. It’s a curious endeavor since there’s only you and him and Mrs. Thomas sitting in a chair. It’s then that Mrs. Thomas reminds you both of her presence, “I thought you wanted to commission more than that,” she booms out. She can be loud for an older woman.

You glance back and forth between Mrs. Thomas and Sherlock, then. You didn’t know that they knew each other and by the look on Sherlock’s face that crosses for a split second, he seems alarmed. It quickly passes through and then he’s impassive all over again.

“Yes, you’re right. I wanted to commission a, um…” his eyes scan momentarily, a sign that he’s trying to think fast that you know Mrs. Thomas won’t notice, but you do, “a vest” he decides. “A vest and a suit jacket.”

Not taking the hint that this is more than he’s bargained for, Mrs. Thomas laughs. “Might as well be fitted for the entire suit! Don’t you think so, Ms. Wright?”

Mrs. Thomas holds an unusual expression you haven’t seen before, a genuine and beaming smile that reaches her eyes and erases the sympathy from them that you consistently detect. You’re not sure what she’s doing, but instead of dwelling on her, you pivot to bring your full attention to Sherlock. It’s transparent to you that he’s hiding something, though you feel as if it’s more for Mrs. Thomas then it is for you. Still, you might as well have some fun with his visit. It’s not like you had a line of customers to dawdle on.

“Why, Mrs. Thomas, you are correct,” you can just see how Sherlock narrows his eyes at you in a warning, but despite this, you continue and hook one arm into his, now side by side, “Let’s do an entire fitting and then we can discuss that commission of yours, Mr. Shoulders.”

Sherlock fakes a smile at you, it’s tight lipped and you know this is not what he wanted, but he goes along and waves his goodbye to Mrs. Thomas who is finally standing from her chair to leave. She lingers watching you two disappear into a backroom.

“I did not agree to this,” Sherlock mutters, almost petulantly. It sounds foreign coming from such a deep voice.

“But here I am agreeing… Come on, it’ll be over before you know it. Remove the items on your torso besides the undershirt, please.” You half expect him not to listen, to put his foot down and ask for the tie again, but to your surprise, Sherlock blows a breath out through his nose and then he starts by ridding off his jacket sleeve by sleeve. You feel rather smug by his obedience, but you don’t wish to stop him through this, so you leave him to strip as you said as you go to retrieve your measuring tape and return with fresh paper for your pen and inkwell. When you return, you’re met with Sherlock undoing the current tie sitting at his neck. It slips free and the shirt is as poofy as a falling parachute through the sky.

“Erm… that shirt’s rather… large on you,” you don’t know if that’s the correct word. It seems as if it fits and yet it doesn’t, extra fabric bunching at his arms and waist. You tilt your head examining it and Sherlock takes a glance down to assess what you may mean.

“I’m aware,” he mutters. “I have trouble finding correct sizing and I don’t necessarily make the time to have actual appointments with tailors. Some things fit enough, nothing like a glove.” He shrugs his shoulders and it’s obvious to you he’s reserved himself to this way of dressing. For the most part, he didn’t do a bad job. He dressed elegantly and his other items seemed to fit him accordingly, but the bunched up fabric was for sure going to hinder you in taking his measurements. Because of this, you know what you have to do, and your fingers nervously wind the tape around your hands as you stare at him almost abashedly.

Noticing this, Sherlock looks at you quizzically. “What?”

“Sherlock, do you mind… removing your shirt? It’ll be easier to take your measurements that way, but if you don’t wish to, you aren’t obligated.” You’re already pushing him further out of his comfort zone and how he probably thought this would all go. You can see his hands flex at his sides, quiet as he stares forward and visibly ponders what he should do in this situation. You wouldn’t blame him if he rejected it entirely and put his tie and vest back on, strung his jacket along his arms and walked out of this invasive nature. It shouldn’t be this awkward, it never is with other male clients, but there’s a palpable energy between you that neither of you understand. Each step towards each other in any setting feels like a step too far, but always in the right direction.

He says nothing. You wish you could see past the flesh and skull in his head to truly capture what he may be thinking, but eventually, he whispers, “Very well, then,” and he starts at the cuffs. He unbuttons them gradually, and he glances at you once before he starts to tackle the buttons at his torso. One by one, they come undone, pectoral muscles displayed, a patch of hair on his chest that you had not expected to be there from how clean shaven he keeps his face. From every masculine element about him, it’s something you should’ve probably guessed. That and the swell of muscles in his arms that you didn’t regularly encounter on men around, such that bulge as he slips the white garment off of him completely. He turns away to discard the item with his other clothes, and then he’s left vulnerable standing in front of your full body mirror. He doesn’t look at himself. He keeps his eyes on you, waiting for another direction perhaps.

“Thank you. Let’s start with your arms.” You must carry this out as confidently as humanly possible even with the stature of Sherlock taking you a bit aback. Like a professional, you have him shift his arms out to measure his wingspan, the width of his back rather prominent to you at this moment since he is by no means a small man. You’re timorous as you measure around his biceps, as you catch the scent of his musk and tobacco standing this close by. You alternate between stretching your tape out at his limbs and then moving downward to write off the numbers each time. It’s an intimate affair as much as neither of you would like to admit it, and all that can be heard is the sound of each of your breathing. Not wanting this to be cumbersome, you try and find your voice literally kneeling before him while asking him to adjust his legs. Fortunately (and unfortunately) for you, his trousers are concealing him and it’s less inconvenient on you than when you tended to his torso.

“So, you spoke with Mrs. Thomas about a commission, hm?” You mark off the measurement with your thumbnail and then jot it down.

“Technically,” he admits. It bewilders you further. You stand so you can wrap the tape about his waist, one hand behind his back feeding it through. His warm skin touches your fingers. You’re face to face with his chest and neck here, but you ensure your eyes stay on the tape measure. You’re unaware of how he’s examining the top of your head.

“Technically? What’s technical about it?”

“Well, I wasn’t asking about a commission from you.” This is enough for your head to snap up. Your hands are still firmly on the tape measure around his waist, locking him in position to be this close to you, to be centimeters from this boulder of a man as he stares down at you with sincerity in his eyes. He’s literally so close that you can feel the heat radiating off of him. Those nerves from earlier are recollecting in your veins holding his steely gaze, but you don’t make any efforts to depart after his confession.

“You were asking… about my father? Why? Did you know him?” You should let go of the tape, but you don’t have the number yet to do so. Letting go just to wrap it back around him would be redundant. This isn’t any better since it’s trapping you practically against him, minimal distance between the two of you that any onlooker would confuse it as some kind of flirtatious bout, his naked torso feeding into the hypothetical guess. You stay where you are, blinking up at Sherlock who shakes his head back and forth.

“I did not. I just noticed that you were here alone so often. It made me question who Mr. Wright was. And so I came up with a bit of deception to tell Mrs. Thomas on her way out one day. It wasn’t exactly a pleasant conversation.” While honesty is easy for him to undergo, he does seem ashamed of his actions. The corner of his lips quirks for a second and it clicks for you that he knew about your father’s passing. And if he knew about your father’s passing, then it had you questioning his motives again. You want to give him the benefit of the doubt, but you hate this kind of subject.

Slowly, you look down to mark the number and then write it onto the pad of paper below. Having that be his last measurement, you detach from him and sigh out in displeasure as you look over the other measurements you’ve taken thus far. “So you got me that book out of pity,” you note, the excitement in your voice drained out from yet another person giving you special treatment you never asked for. “You asked about him because you thought he would help with your investigation since I wouldn’t, didn’t you?” You’re disappointed and you don’t bother to hide it. His cold exterior melting away so abruptly suddenly makes sense now. For a moment, you feel like a fool.

But Sherlock doesn’t allow this to last long. “Yes and no,” he replies and it leaves you puzzled. You stare at him from the side. He’s grabbing his shirt and slipping it back over himself, but he’s still looking at you in the process. “I thought that Mr. Wright may help me with my investigation, yes, but I also wanted to know if you ran this establishment by yourself. I guess a part of me knew that already, but I’ve never been one to carry out without confirmation or evidence.” He leaves the shirt open, the hair on his chest trailing down still very much visible. He conceals more of what makes him a man underneath those professional clothes, the clothes of a proper gentleman and a proper detective, but it’s not any less distracting. “Now, I don’t wish to offend you, but I did not know your father. I had little reaction to the news that Mrs. Thomas broke to me. But I knew you. I didn’t get you that book out of pity. I did it because I misread you.”

He buttons his cuffs somehow without struggling. You’re used to watching men and women alike grapple with said buttons because of the transition between left hand and right hand. You don’t think he’s ambidextrous, but much like other things about him, he’s most likely perfected it in a way where there are less steps, where there is less of a scuffle. You pay attention to this because his words are different from what you’ve experienced during your time in the city with a plethora of people coming to and from your shop. They hold weight because they’re about you, not about anyone else, but you and how you feel. It’s strange to be so known in the eyes of someone you met more than three weeks ago, but it’s also paradoxically freeing to be seen in a light free of that shame that’s haunted you since your arrival.

“I’ll… I’ll bring you that tie.” You settle on, a bit overcome with emotion in this instance from your thoughts bouncing to your father, his passing, the overwhelming “support” everyone’s extended out to you, and how Sherlock has given you what you’ve been craving for a long while now, and that’s validation and transparency. You don’t want to face him with the sting of tears in your eyes so he does appear to be confused as you walk away from him, but in your movement, you take heavy breaths to pull yourself together. It’s only when you feel secure in your features that you move to pull a royal blue tie into your hands. You’re sure it’ll bring out his eyes and he hardly uses color from what you’ve seen in his attire.

Soon, you remerge into the room, and Sherlock’s hands are politely cupping one another behind the small of his back, his shirt now fully buttoned. He’s still not looking in the mirror, the floor his choice of perspective, but with your return, he shifts his eyes up to your face and a thoughtful expression forms. He extends a hand out to you, but you raise your own to stop him.

“May I?”

He falters. You can tell he’s juggling whether he should allow you to or not, but in due time, he lowers his hands back to where they were before behind his back. It’s the slight nod that permits you to walk to him, which you do and you upturn the collar of his now wrinkled shirt for the access necessary. His pupils follow your hands with every movement and they only shut when you lift the fabric over his head to lay it around his neck. You situate both ends and Sherlock involuntarily takes a single half step forward from the light tug, his abdomen brushing against yours. Both of you hear the hitches in your breaths, and you could swear his adam’s apple bobbed from a light gulp, but neither of you choose to comment on it. You busy yourself with maneuvering the tie into its correct loops. You try to ignore how awfully domestic it feels and how your heart thuds harder in your ribcage.

“Your heart’s beating fast,” he says, that matter-of-fact tone as present as the day you met him. You forgot that your chests are pressing together and you rectify it by stepping that half step backwards that Sherlock took forward. He’s sturdy this time and doesn’t budge.

“It’s the temperature here,” you lie. This seems to appease him since he doesn’t say anything else about it, to your relief. You slip the knot upwards, one hand holding the tail, the other not stopping until it reaches his neck. Normally, you’d pull away from the client and have them view themselves in the mirror. Since this is not a normal time, you stay there in that position, your fingers against the cloth against his neck. His pulse is resting right into them and by how his jaw sets, you know he’s aware of what you’ve discovered and what you’re about to say.

“Your pulse is—”

“It’s the temperature here,” he parrots and you can’t even fault him for it because you used the same line. His wit may just hold a candle to yours. The speeding pulse introducing itself with your digits remains this way as you gaze at Sherlock. He doesn’t make any efforts to push you away and you don’t stagger backwards even if you think you should. It’s obvious to the both of you that you’re riddled with nerves and this is not an ordinary encounter nor an ordinary fitting. Eventually, you release the tie and step off to the side to maneuver out of his way. His stare follows you, but he soon removes that to walk to the mirror and view how the tie looks on him.

“Not bad, Lily,” he says.

You hide your smile behind your hand as you meet his eyes in the mirror. You were right, the tie enhances his irises. “Blue’s your color, Shoulders.”

It’s late at night, Sherlock paces the length of his floor, cautious in each step since he did not wish to alert the tenants below of his confusion and distress. Or more so, he did not wish to alert you. He’s refrained from playing his violin at such late hours in consideration of you and it’s well past the time that you’ve arrived home from work. He chose not to discuss the fabric he needs for his investigation and opted for it to occur tomorrow. He didn’t want to put a dent in whatever it was that was going on between the two of you since he usually transformed into a different person in detective mode. He’s been told he’s a pain in the ass to work with and it all has to do with the fact that he’s not a team player whatsoever, but someone who does everything by himself. He plans to get that over with when the time comes in his efforts to not completely scare you off as he has done to others in the past. You’re new to getting along with each other and he would like to keep himself from ruining it, a prophecy he holds in his head as a possibility since he is the reason for his lack of approachability. For once, for reasons he doesn’t understand, he would prefer to maintain a friendly status with you rather than antagonistic, or worse, estranged. Don’t ask him why that would be worse, he won’t answer.

Although he will see you tomorrow and he will most likely receive another piece to aid him moving forward, it didn’t stop him from trying to think about the details of the murder. They’re swarming his head all over again and he’s reliving his arrival at the crime scene to see if there’s anything he missed. This would be easier on his brain if he could just return back to the area, but of course, the police force wouldn’t be too keen on letting him reenter. Many officers hold resentment towards him and his intellect because of spite and envy and they don’t appreciate the proud aspects of Sherlock’s personality. Details stand out to him, almost perfectly outlined in paintings of what others deem as muddled colors. A man like Lestrade may display his appreciation for Sherlock’s talents and inevitable solutions, but there’s always the matter of ego to contest. A man’s ego in the fit of the “game” is fragile, especially when another’s wit and ideas are involved, superiority pouncing on what already is insecurity and vulnerability. Men in positions of power such as these hold, in Sherlock’s eyes, the most amount of emotion because they allow their arrogance and pride to corrupt their performances. While they’re in competition with Sherlock, Sherlock is in competition with himself and therefore it ensures the progression of his self growth, a means to always expand on what is already extraordinary.

But the unnerving fact of all of this despite these truths is how Sherlock’s pride still gets in the way. He stubbornly avoids the veracity of his arrogance because even if he did accept the claims of others in terms of his self-conceit, it doesn’t erase the many accomplishments he’s done up to this point. There are more to be consummated, just like this case in particular that refuses to let him sleep and refuses to let him think about anything else in his life, the basic essentials to survival sometimes neglected as a result. Forgetting to eat and nourish himself is not the ideal way to go about everything and really, nutrients would surely help him think better, but it’s how his brain is wired. It will linger on a subject until he can carve a path to the answer, until he can properly close a case and contribute a difference to the world the best way he can. This is his benefaction. Where others still trace as their purpose, he knows he’s in the thick of his own and this slump will be hurdled over as he’s done to other slumps of yesterday.

A clumsy sort of sound disrupts his current brain’s thought cacophony, knocking out of rhythm drawing his focus to his door. He’s not expecting anyone at this hour, especially not this late, so he’s bewildered to say the least. He stares at the door with intrigue, hopeful he imagined the distorting noise as he did not wish to halt his growing examination and introspection, but soon enough, the knocking continues and he knows it won’t disappear unless he answers the door as the person behind intends the impromptu meeting. He sighs his displeasure, but ultimately adjusts his loosened tie for the sake of etiquette, saunters to the door and brings it open after counting to three in his head. Sherlock’s not sure what he expected or who he assumed would be standing across from him, but it certainly wasn’t your back covered in alabaster lace, soft knots of fabric at each arm dangling from where you’ve adjusted the ties accordingly. He swallows with difficulty, especially noticing how your hair isn’t in its usual condition shapened by various tools and pins. It’s loose and free and no longer haphazardly restrained, bold in movement as you turn your body towards him upon your recognition of the door being open. He swears there’s brilliance in your eyes as they widen at him, light up in a fashion he cannot fathom correctly from how they also appear to be bloodshot, almost as rosy as the tint currently coating your face and chest.

“Sherlock!” You beam, definitely with more excitement he’s ever been confronted with in your presence, “I thought I heard you pacing. I knew I wasn’t the only one in this building who couldn’t sleep.” As you lean towards him, your hands find the left and right sides of his door frame. Your cheek presses into your shoulder as you regard him with commendation in your glowing features, innocently acute joy settling in your smile and the crinkles around your eyes. He doesn’t understand how you could be so happy to see him nor why you’re even standing here before him this late, but he does catch how you’re swaying from one side to the next on his frame he feels an odd surge of resentment suddenly for.

“Pardon my asking, but what are you doing here at this time of night? Is something troubling you?” It would explain the time and lack of warning for this visit, and he almost furrows his brows in preparation for some kind of predicament to heed, but those inclinations soon fly out the window as your palm reaches out to lay on his chest in efforts to appease the situation and dull the severity he’s approximated. He’s aware of how his heart rate picks up at the contact, but it’s hardly a point of contention or even importance because it’s occurred to Sherlock how you’re leaning not for warmth or security, but because you’re off balance. The disturbance of your equilibrium leads him to watch your body language and hear your speech pattern which sounds oddly slurred now that he’s thinking on it.

“No, nothing, nothing is troubling me,” you reassure with a pregnant pause in the air. You knit your eyebrows together as your smile falls into a thin line. “I suppose the apparent absence of company is troubling, but other than that, everything else is swell. It’s just the loneliness.” Your hand comes off his chest to wave off the worry simultaneously as your other hand departs from Sherlock’s door frame. In doing so, you stumble forward and almost fall, but Sherlock’s stature does not allow for that to happen. Seeing that he’s a force in front of you, his arms piston out to hold underneath yours, and under another circumstance possibly coupled with deep embarrassment, you would most likely lean away and apologize. Instead, you linger into his touch, weight shifting into him that is both nothing to Sherlock and yet so critically eminent to him all the same. He can smell something florally sweet coming from you and something so distinct that his conclusion of your visit is strengthened and emboldened by it.

“You’re drunk,” he conjects aloud, having already deciphered it internally. It’s relevant and obvious and sure it took him little time to figure it out, much less than the average person would take, but there’s a small portion of him that feels foolish because for a split second, for a split second he believed you were overjoyed to see him simply because he was him. Your drunken stupor’s seeking another’s companionship and there’s nothing particularly special about it being Sherlock since he was clearly the closest nearby.

“It would seem that way, but nonetheless alone!” You protest and concurrently confirm his thoughts at the same time. “You’re aberrantly strong,” you continue, your hands grasping at his tight forearms without a hint of shame. He almost slips and grins, but he keeps his impassive nature and gestures towards the hall. If he takes a few steps out, he could see your flat’s door from here. There’s not much distance to cover to get you safely back into your home.

“I’ll walk you back to your flat.” Sherlock’s willing to help you back and is fully prepared to do so, but you’re quick to rip your arms from his hold. The motion almost sends you flying backwards which then prompts him to shoot his arms out to further guide and protect, but fortunately, you find your footing and attempt to stand taller, squaring off your shoulders and raising your chin.

“You can’t make me go back there. If I see that damned sewing machine again, I’ll… I’ll put it out of its misery!”

A threat of this sort should not bother Sherlock whatsoever, especially not one threatening an inanimate object that not only he does not use, but one that couldn’t affect him directly no matter its livelihood or destruction. Yet, as he takes in your stance, your folded arms over your chest in your sincerity, drunk or not, he knows you’re not at all bluffing. You’ll break it and your sober-self will experience the consequences of such, your work no longer able to be attended to unless you replace the item. It’ll greatly inconvenience you and you have quotas to fill, clients to attend to, a business to run that he cannot authorize to be blundered due to one night of overindulgence. You work too hard and he couldn’t let you throw that away just because you drank a bit too much in one sitting.

“I suppose I could see what our other neighbors are up to. There’s bound to be someone awake, right? Maybe Mrs. Hudson is having a late night tea,” you ponder audibly with one finger coming up to thoughtfully caress your chin. You solely take one step to venture further into the hall, but Sherlock’s arm captures your waist this time, firmly planting you in your spot in front of his door frame. Before you could kick your feet out and push him away (you do neither, and make no efforts to do so, really), he levels you with his gaze and tilts his head to his flat. He feels your hands lightly grasp his arm in place at your waist. If he didn’t know the context of this situation, he would’ve guessed your arms would then wind about his neck for some kind of intimate dance. This does not happen, his mouth dry from how close this contact is nonetheless. It’s almost as overwhelming as how he had to hold still as you prodded him for measurements earlier in the day, except it’s you who’s in a vulnerable position with an inebriated dilemma and an insufficiency of clothing. Such insufficiency that others would deem improper, and worse, take advantage of, your reputation around bound to be soured due to everyone’s perception of what it meant to be a gentleman and what it meant to be a lady. This behavior is in defiance of that perception and he couldn’t enable you to make a fool of yourself, he wouldn’t forgive himself. He does not trust people.

“I have tea,” he clarifies after he realizes that there was too long of a bout of you two just locking eyes. His arm slowly snakes from where it’s encircled about your waist, but a helpful hand maneuvers to your back to further help you steady yourself. Your smile soon returns and your walking continues, this time into Sherlock’s flat.

“Why didn’t you just say so?”

One arm lays over Sherlock’s broad shoulder, the other reaching out to touch trinkets that Sherlock gingerly pulls you away from. From what he can tell, you’re in awe of what you see the more you two explore the length of his floor. He gently deposits you onto his loveseat to sit down.

“Here you are,” he says and then stands towering over you. You’re gazing up at him with the same admiration and astonishment that you did when you first entered his home and he chooses to ignore it. “Stay here and try not to touch anything. I’ll get the tea brewing.”

He’s reluctant to leave you behind seeing as his work is in disarray, his own form of organization that could easily be misshapen by your currently all-too-curious hands, but he also fears that you’ll do something worth regretting if he doesn’t entertain you and keep your attention in some way.

“Sir, yes, Sir,” you nod, one hand saluting him. “I won’t touch anything.” Normally, he wouldn’t believe someone with sticky fingers under the influence, but it’s different with you. He finds it easier to trust you when you smile at him like that and the amusement from how you then sit on your hands certainly skews his judgment.

Despite the slight nerves urging him to stay here with you, he soon finds his kitchen and pours water into a pot. He drank tea earlier so there’s not any that he can grab for you at this time at his disposal. It’s not much of a hassle placing the pot onto heat, his teapot checked for the proper leaves he would soon pour boiling water into. He wonders what preference you may have, if you favor lavender, or perhaps peppermint, or maybe something simple like black tea. He wonders if you drink some in the early hours of the morning to properly wake up, if you brew some for the sake of having something warm to drink with a fresh muffin for breakfast, if you rely on it to calm your rapidly beating heart in the plight of increasing stress. Sherlock wonders if this what you drink when you’re reading, if it’s what you nurse with cautious sips in the midst of stitching pieces together, if it’s what you turn to when you cannot sleep and you decide that you might as well find some kind of warmth in it with blankets that aren’t doing their job, and dreams that won’t make slumber any more appetizing. He wonders if it’s stopped assisting like it used to and instead of taking distance from it to rebuild its charm and tease tolerance, he wonders if it was easier to turn to wine. If it was easier to drink more and more than to sit with thoughts that won’t dare to leave you alone, if each gulp of the alcohol silenced them and buried them until the consciousness of being alive is nothing but a ghost of a whisper you cannot hear unless you’re left without hobby, task, or another human being. If you become painfully aware of how you have no one but yourself in moments like these. Oh, he wonders, he wonders. He wonders if you’re just like him.

It’s the distant sound of a door opening and closing that stops him from wondering. His head snaps up from staring at the surface of the water and immediately, he attends where he left you. When he sees you’re no longer sitting at his loveseat, he pivots to the front door and then marches over to it. Swinging it open, he glances back and forth to see if you left. Knowing that you’re drunk, you couldn’t have possibly gone far, but you’re nowhere in his sight and the thrill of panic sets into his back. It’s the creaking floorboards in his flat that drive him to step back inside, the door shut behind him as he tries to follow the muffled sound for as long as it carries, which isn’t long. Still, it leads him into his bedroom and he cautiously infiltrates the area only to find his made bed now in disorder with you settled underneath his comforter. Your hair fans out in a halo on his pillow as you bury your head into it, your eyes lazily coming open to meet his gaze.

“I told you not to touch anything,” he says, his voice quiet. It’s lacking sternness, but he can’t really be upset since he brought you into his flat with little control in your hands. He’s taking in your size in comparison to the size of his bed.

“I know, but,” you yawn, your eyes shutting in the process, nose wrinkling, a cushiony soft sigh falling from in between your lips that he equates to the hymns he’s heard inside of churches, “I got tired waiting for you. Your bed’s awfully comfortable. I think I might actually fall asleep.”

He didn’t take long in the kitchen, he knows that. However, he’s been drunk before, he understands how those minutes alone must’ve felt like centuries to your own devices. He should be shooing you out and getting you downstairs to sleep in your bed, but something in him can’t seem to do so. You look so… peaceful. It’s not like he was going to make any use of his bed himself since he planned to think all night, at most falling into his sofa for an hour or two of rest. With how much you’ve been through and how you’re constantly working yourself to the bone, Sherlock’s long acquiesced to having you spend the night here before he’s rationalized it.

“Go ahead. You deserve repose.” Sherlock comes closer to adjust your/his pillow. He doesn’t want you to wake with an uncomfortable kink in your neck or aggravate the impending migraine you’ll certainly wake with. He’s in the middle of fluffing, his wrists above your head, when he feels your hands grasp at them. Your hold is dainty, barely there, but he could feel it scorching him. He restrains himself, from doing what he doesn’t know, as he looks down into the depths of your pleading eyes, as your right thumb maddeningly strokes the sliver of skin unprotected by his shirt’s cuff. He confronts the drought in his mouth again and it travels to his throat the longer you keep your hold on him. An onlooker would surely be apprehensive to this image. His brother would absolutely lose his mind if he knew about Sherlock’s abandonment of propriety with an unmarried, unbetrothed woman laying in his bed. He would absolutely lose his mind if he knew of the thoughts mashing together in Sherlock’s head, one after the other, of how he could climb in and join you.

“Lay with me,” you breathe, almost as if you could hear those pesky fantasies clouding his mind. He grips the pillow tighter as he considers it. The prospect, as much as he wants to deny it, is tempting. Something… something in him wants to accept it. Something in him wants to settle in beside you. It’s that something, whatever the hell it is, that causes him to release the pillow from his tightening vise. He brings his hands to himself, your hold physically easy to depart from, but the willpower to pull away is what he had to muster. He feels out of breath.

“I… I-I have to go get your tea.” He points to the door and thankfully, you don’t say anything else. You just watch as he leaves the room.

What you don’t see is how his back leans into the door after he closes it, a large hand coming up to scrub down the length of his face. He’s not sure what came over him or why he even dared to consider laying with you in such a state. It’s wrong. For many reasons. The main being how you’re not sober and unaware of what you were asking for. This is not something he can do. It’s against everything he stands for. Whatever this is, whatever realm of feelings you’ve awakened within him, they have to stop. It’s unknown, thought manipulating—a distraction. Before you came in, he was busy with work. Work he has to get back to now that you’re taken care of and out of his sight. His hands clench into fists and then stretch out at his sides as he ventures back to the kitchen and pours the hot water into the teapot. He picks out the black tea leaves at the end and stares at the door to his bedroom with a tray in his hands.

He’s ready to tell you how there will be no funny business and how this is purely a friend looking out for a friend, nothing more or less, as he brings the door open… only to find you asleep, one of his pillows firmly in your arms, half of your face pressing into it. He sighs and eventually brings the tray to his bedside table. You’ll need it when you wake up.

Maybe he’ll tell you tomorrow morning.

#henry cavill #henry!sherlock #sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x reader #enola holmes #l4l.writes #beyond answers #the distraction of rising temperature #henry cavill x reader

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lorimnnn · 2 years

Text

Mine pt.3 (Michael Myers x AFAB!Reader)

summary: before Michael was ever ‘The Shape’ of Haddonfield, he was just a boy. he was a boy in love with the girl across the road, his sister’s best friend--- the only girl to show him kindness, love and warmth. you.

Basically, Michael falls in love with his sister’s best friend at 6, who sometimes played emergency babysitter especially when Judith was fooling around with her bf. He clings to those memories growing up in the asylum until the day he breaks out, where he decides the first thing he wants to do is find you and keep you, your sunshine only for him. Reader is super girly and feminine, which just fuels michael’s possessiveness.

cw: gore, violence, kidnapping, obsession, manhandling, possessiveness, non-con themes, not edited :((

welcome back sowhatariyana bigcreatorwombatdreamer cherryxnessa literalawkwardsimp bitchyglitterfox cavern-creature herwitchbasement mychemicalimagines itsjust-menow nerd-bookworm fall-myriad saccharinescalpel puppiegutz666 pupperony

pt. 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

It comes to you when you’re trying to sleep--- the memories.

The memories of Judith. It’s been so long, you don’t even remember what she looks like anymore, and the pictures of the two of you standing next to each other feel like no more than husks of who you used to be. Growing up--- and growing apart, especially--- did that to you. She was your best friend.

But she was becoming less and less worthy of that title the more she hung out with Danny and selfishly indulged in her own desires without a plan or second fuck to give.

Not that Judith could tell.

You remember getting ready for a party. It was the last one you were going to before your vacation with your mother, and the last one you would ever go to in Haddonfield no less. You were at the vanity.

Judith was on your bed, lying down with her feet kicked up on a pillow. Shoes and everything. That last part made you grit your teeth, but you knew it didn’t matter whether you told her you didn’t like it or not.

You knew it was all because of Danny.

Once her puppy love for him died down, she’d come to her senses and remember how to function like a respectable human being, an older sister, and a better friend.

You were giving her the benefit of the doubt.

“Ugh!” she groaned. She’d been going on and on for quite a while now, and you didn’t really know what she was talking about. All her complaints seemed to mash together into one, big blur of unpleasantries you couldn’t care less for. “I’m so annoyed.”

“Why?”

“I can’t believe Mom is making me babysit Michael for Halloween.”

You remember humming back at her as you swabbed some lip gloss over your bottom lip. Then you were adjusting your earrings, and eventually your dress--- shorter than usual, celebratory of one, last hurrah. You looked stunning. You turned in your mirror over and over again like some narcissistic egomaniac.

“I was supposed to go out with Danny for Halloween.”

“Mhm.”

“Mom knows this. Why does she keep planning things over my plans? I have a life, too. The world doesn’t revolve around her.”

You’d nodded sympathetically. Inwardly, you’d rolled your eyes.

“I’m so jealous of you, you know.”

That caught your attention. You looked at her hesitantly.

“Why?”

“You’re going on vacation.”

“You’ll miss me?”

Judith sighed exasperatedly. “Your babysitting skills, yeah.”

Ah. There it was.

You turned back to your vanity and checked your reflection one, more time.

“Let’s go, yeah?”

Judith jumped up. She was still moaning and groaning, but this time you ignored her as you drove to the party, cranking up the radio over her voice. You weren’t supposed to be driving, not really, but there was a special perk to looking like a senior when you were still a freshman, one that your parents didn’t care much to rectify as long as you returned their baby without a scratch.

Judith began to shout at you. You’d ignored her still.

And then she grabbed your arm and yanked on it for your attention, causing you to swerve. You had lightning fast reflexes though, and too much self-respect to be too shocked at her actions. You still had lightning-fast reflexes.

Your self-respect? Not so much.

You remembered your last words to Judith as you stomped on the break and turned into the side of the road. You waited for her to stop shouting, and then you looked at her, pointed to the sidewalk, and glared.

“Get out. Get Danny to drive you, or walk for all I care. You suck, Judith.”

And when she didn’t get out, still screeching nonsensically at you, you snapped. You got out yourself and dragged her out. Oh, yes. Kicking and screaming and everything. You shoved her so hard, she tore open her knee on a rock as she fell.

You didn’t turn back once.

You drove off.

That had been the last time you saw Judith. The last time you saw your best friend.

Somehow, you still failed to regret it, even to this day.

---

Michael didn’t come back the next day, but that wouldn’t been silly, anyway. The police were all around your house, maybe guarding it--- but you knew better. Your house was a trap.

And you were the bait.

“I just don’t understand why he let you live,” one detective had muttered. “He never lets any of them live.”

You’d shrugged. You weren’t too emotional about it, but then again, you were still denying any of it ever happened.

Michael Myers is a serial killer, not a rapist.

But that night, it had been crystal clear that he hadn’t meant to kill you. And he wasn’t going to, if he usually followed a pattern. This irregular, jarring disturbance was a new trail to follow into the unknown. It sparked fear in Haddonfield.

None of them thought it could get any worse than this.

Well, neither did you. If it wasn’t already bad having your house flooded with cops and journalists, the top priority of every authority’s watchlist, a council-approved ban from leaving your house and the unspoken promise of another visit from a serial killer discovering his cock for the first time, then maybe the constant, bone-chilling feeling of being watched following you through every moment was enough to drive you insane.

Or maybe it was the man claiming to be Myers’ psychologist insisting to talk to you every day, even though you denied him each time.

“Please, Miss L/N.”

“Please what, old man?” You mumble through the keyhole. “You’re going to have to beg prettier than that.”

You hear one of the cops stationed at your porch stifle his laughter behind a cough. You smirk.

“This is no time for games, Miss L/N.”

“And this is no time to be harassing me for the fifth time this week. I can literally get a restraining order; won’t that be fun?”

“Michael is a dangerous-”

“Blah blah blah. You’re forgetting that speech won’t work on me. I’ve already maxed out the danger, Mr Loomis. So kindly fuck off unless you can say something useful, like maybe: ‘Oh, Miss L/N! I have a coffee for you’ or maybe even ‘I know how to get the ban off you!’, or, my personal favourite: ‘I can promise Michael won’t fucking destroy your next one-night-stand!’“

Doctor Loomis goes quiet.

The cop chokes again, and you open the door that tiniest bit to grin at him in the face.

“You know, if I was sure I wouldn’t be putting you on a hit list, you’d probably be warming my bed right now.” You wink. You really hope you aren’t pushing it, but who knows--- he left before the two of you could discuss the rules of this demented little game. “You’re real cute, you know. And if your face is like that, I wonder what the rest of you’s like.”

The young cop is just a rookie. There isn’t any real suave to him yet, no kinky cop fantasies. Or maybe all of the kinky cop fantasies, if he was really that fresh off the boat. That’s hot. You like the one’s with no ego.

Usually that goes hand in hand with no experience, unfortunately. You’ve unintentionally established yourself as a cougar.

The cop’s entire face descends into a deep crimson, and it spreads down to his neck. His hands. You follow it down his uniform and back up.

Doctor Loomis clears his throat. “Miss L/N, please.”

You laugh. “That’s the spirit. Aren’t you a bit too old for this?”

Doctor Loomis sputters.

You laugh harder.

Then you close the door again.

Outside the door, you hear the cop trying to hustle him away. But Loomis won’t be deterred, and you hear the thud of him throwing himself against the door for one, last time.

“I researched you, Miss L/N!” He yells, voice strained. “I know your history, and let me tell you now, any connection you think you may have with him is futile! He is insane! He is pure evil!”

You don’t answer.

You do, however, thrust your middle finger towards the door like he can see it, because you feel strangely unjustified on Michael’s behalf. Isn’t the whole ideal of being someone’s psychologist to tell people that they aren’t insane?

You don’t know much about Michael.

But if he’s been stuck with this big oaf all his life, then maybe he wasn’t a born monster.

Maybe he was created instead.

You kick the door where you imagine Loomis’ crotch would be as you hear him get dragged away.

---

Later that night, you wake to a thud at your porch. You instantly know it’s the cop. This time, you don’t even deny it. Maybe now he’s here to finish the job.

Maybe now he realised his mistake.

You sink further into the sheets and pull your blanket over your head the way you used to when you were a kid, scared of the dark. It’s ironic, really. How could someone shut their eyes, inviting themselves to pure darkness, yet be afraid of it in the world around them?

They’re the same thing.

Yet one is controlled--- and one is not.

Darkness controlled...

You spare yourself a short moment to mourn that cop outside. He’d been so cute. So eager and dutiful, and also so distracted every time you stepped out just to check your mailbox. Didn’t matter whether you stepped out in a robe or something completely un-sexy. He was enamoured. That had been nice.

It’s always nice to feel adored.

You hear the doorknob rattle, and you curl into a ball.

He’s really fucking there.

You know you don’t have enough time to run and grab the phone. Maybe that would only provoke him. But would you really rather stay alive when you were doomed to his plot?

The detective didn’t know why you were still alive, and frankly, neither did you. Old babysitter or not, he had no reason to keep you around.

You didn’t understand it.

The door swung open.

The floorboards creaked beneath his weight, the sounds sharp and cutting against the silent, chilly air. It feels so tense.

You’re so scared.

You battle with your urges to save your skin. It’s all purely instinctual, all impulsive and illogical, but it doesn’t stop you from considering whether or not you still had time to run. Maybe crash through your bedroom window and pound down the doors of your neighbors until someone let you in.

But you know this town, even though it had been so, so long.

You know this town just like they know Michael, and because of that, they were never going to let you in.

Your bedroom door finally opens. You hold your breath.

You can hear him, now--- his breathing shallow, labored, his footsteps wet and squelching against the floorboards. You hope it isn’t blood.

But what else could it be?

Don’t cry.

Don’t run.

A large, meaty hand fists the blankets, tugging them away from you. Or trying. Your flight or fight instinct kicks in, and you’d already rejected flight. You wrestled with him to keep it over your head, but it was no use. He was too strong.

It’s almost supernatural, how strong he is.

He rips the blanket away from you and you gasp, your nails burning. You scramble towards the corner of your bed as he watches you through the holes of his mask, those unseeing eyes, merely shadows cast over where his sight should be detailed, observing you too closely.

He sees everything.

The heaviness of his breathing doubles, and you dig your burning fingers in to your mattress.

The adrenaline snuffs out your fear, but not by much. You still tremble. You still manage to hold your chin up as you glare at him.

“Well?”

He’s silent, a solitary statue.

You refuse to scream. You should, but you won’t. You know better than to try.

“Don’t just fucking stand there like a creep,” you snap. “Do something. Play your part. Don’t be confusing; it doesn’t suit you.”

Almost on cue, he raises his knife above his head. Your force yourself to keep your eyes open, gritting your teeth against the fear.

Nothing.

Nothing happens.

It infuriates you more than it scares you, and on an enraged impulse, you snatch the pillow off your bed and launch it at him. It hits him square in the face.

He doesn’t even the flinch.

It falls to the ground and you both look at it, pathetic. You even have the gall to be embarrassed about it.

“Don’t just stare at it...”

His head snaps up. He looks at you.

Your hackles raise, and he advances, landing with one knee on the bed as he crawls towards you, one hand outstretches as it descends on your ankle. You screech and scramble back, falling. It doesn’t hurt. You squeal anyway, purely out of fear, and back away from him--- into your old vanity.

Memories.

It hits you like a train, and the parralell is almost funny, if not entirely, terrifyingly ironic. You, at your vanity, touching up your makeup. Michael staring at you, starry-eyed and wondrous.

“You’re a princess,” he used to say when you’d teasingly ask him how you looked. He used to be so cute.

Now he’s a man, and he’s a serial killer, and he’s sitting in the same position he used to as a kid but he’s not a kid. He has a knife in his hand, one that’s wet with the blood of the cop outside, and it’s going to go into you, soon, if you’re not careful.

Michael follows you on to the floor. You throw your hands over your head and he catches your wrists, and as he fits himself between your legs, it suddenly occurs to you what he’s trying to do.

No.

No no no-

NO-

You fight him, elbowing him in the cheek. It does nothing. He contiues to press his weight against you until there’s nowhere to go, until he’s so hard you can feel him stabbing into your core, demanding entrance through his mechanic’s overalls.

This time, you scream.

But it’s just as you expected. He bends his arm, your wrist still in his hand, and muffles the noise against his forearm. You bit him, you try anything.

But he’s relentless.

You’re better off subjecting yourself to his torment.

Terrified, you shut your eyes. You fall limp, hoping that your compliance will end this quicker, that your obedience might persuade him to hurt you less--- but he doesn’t hurt you at all.

He lays down between your legs, head on your chest, and shoves your hands into his hair.

You have no idea what he’s trying to do and don’t really care... That is, until you feel the tip of his knife poking you between the ribs. You rack your brain and think.

Think.

And then you remember.

The two of you, curled up on your couch, watching TV, just like this. And despite yourself, you laugh. You laugh hard.

“You hunt me down for this?”

Michael doesn’t answer.

“You’re so fucking weird,” you sigh. “I don’t get you.”

You suppose this is better than whatever you thought he was going to do with you in the beginning. A lot better. Even if it makes no sense. But if it saves your skin, you’ll do anything.

You’ll even graze your nails at his scalp the way you used to .

Something of a purr vibrates in his chest.

You relax, if only slightly.

But you don’t fall asleep, even when he does. A sleeping beast, content in your arms, almost peaceful, almost tamed.

But the knife, still fisted in his grip like a comfort-toy, stays there to scare you.

But something tells you he won’t use it.

So long as you obey.

---

Michael is celebrating.

Finally.

Fucking finally.

He has you.

But the next step is to keep you--- and make sure that you know one thing.

You’re his.

Mine.

And you’re coming with him to his childhood home, where he’ll keep you forever, just him and you... You want him, don’t you?

You want him now.

You wanted him then.

Maybe not as much as he wants you, twice as much now than he did as a child, but that’s easily rectified. You’ll learn.

You’re already learning now.

Did I make it worth the wait?

comment to be tagged or follow to be up to date with the next one (if you want it, let me know!)

and reblog if you want to help me grow!!

Also, would you guys be interested in an ao3 story where I turned these into proper chapters?

#Michael Myers #michael myers x reader #michael myers x you #michael myers x y/n #halloween #slasher #slasher x y/n #slasher x reader #Slashers

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niceboyeds · 2 years

Text

surprise (e.m)

Eddie Munson x reader

summary: Eddie tries to pry out some information you've been hiding from him, but he makes up for all of the years you've missed out on something very important.

contains: very brief mentions of family trauma, comfort, fluff, poorly edited

word count: 1.9K

a/n: AAAHHH I finally wrote something again after over a month of not having any motivation or desire to do so. i didn't edit it and i have no idea if its any good but i missed my Eddie-time and i’m very happy to have it back.

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

“Eds! have you seen my earrings? the black studs-” you find your boyfriend flipping through the notes you have scattered on your desk. seeming to be searching for something, though you’re not sure what for. “need help looking for something?”

he drops a small journal, startled, and it lands on the desk with a thud. “I uh… I was just looking for…” his eyes wander and continue to browse the messy space. “ah, for this pen!”

“uh huh... right. because you weren’t just reading through my planner, clearly snooping?” you smirk, knowing he’s trying to cover his tracks but you still don’t know what he could be looking for.

“okay, you caught me. I might’ve been snooping a teeny bit, but I have my reasons.” he holds his hands up, sighing as he talks with defeat.

“care to elaborate on that?” you walk over to your dresser, finally spotting the black stud earrings you were looking for minutes ago. you begin putting them in while nodding in his direction, urging him to explain himself.

“well, we’ve been together for almost a year now…” you nod, knowing this isn’t new information. “and it’s just, you threw me that amazing birthday party a few months ago. but it made me realize you never told me when your birthday was.”

“so you were looking for what, exactly?” perhaps you can still squeeze past this without confessing something you’d been avoiding for the entirety of your relationship.

“I don’t know, something that would tell me your birthday I guess. m’sorry for snooping.”

“why didn’t just you ask me?” you feel your chest get heavy, your heart dropping into your stomach making you feel a little nauseous.

you had been avoiding this, but you knew you couldn’t do it forever. it’s not necessarily that you didn’t want to celebrate your birthday, you just didn’t know how- it was something unnatural to you. and how embarrassing would it be to explain that to someone? even to Eddie.

“that’s the thing! I remember asking several times, but somehow you’d change the subject or distract me, then I guess i’d forget.” he’s trying to meet your eyes, you know he is. but you do everything you can to avoid his gaze.

turning to face the mirror leaning against your bedroom wall while you check over your outfit of the evening, smoothing over the corroded coffin tee you stole that melted Eddie’s heart the first time you wore it.

“we don’t want to be late, Gareth will have a fit if you aren’t there on time again.” you sigh and turn to grab your purse, bumping into him. when had he walked over to you?

“baby. when’s your birthday?”

you simply grab his hand and lead him out of your small apartment, snatching his van keys on the way. you both climb into the messy van, something you’ve grown to love despite the trash scattered on the floor and the old water bottles in the cup holders.

you know he won’t let it die this time, you’ll have to tell him. why did you think you could continue on with never telling him your fucking birthday of all things?

his eyes are burning into your head while he drives to the Hide Out. your gaze locked on the road ahead until you turn to face him.

it’s no use in avoiding it any longer. he’s just as stubborn as you, he’d pester you relentlessly about it and hiding it now will only raise concerns.

you say it with a sigh, turning back to look out the windshield. he repeats the date, trying to confirm it and you nod in response.

“we started dating a few months before your birthday.”

“and?” the nauseous feeling seems to be growing while he pokes around for more answers.

“why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve thrown you the best party!!” you wince at his words, “what was that?”

“what?” this is becoming embarrassing.

“you know what! you’re hiding something from me!” he’s getting worked up now, his voice becoming almost whiney and louder. this is the last thing you wanted to happen. after parking in front of the bar he immediately turns off the van and turns to face you completely.

“what’s wrong with wanting to throw you a birthday party? why are you being so weird about it??” that kind of stung, you were being avoidant but weird? was it really that odd to not celebrate yourself after all these years?

“i’ve never had one, okay?” you snap, not meaning to come across as harsh in the slightest but you can’t help but feel bitter about your childhood.

“never had what?”

“a birthday party.”

“like as an adult? sure, lots of people don’t really have parties as an adult but we’re still young. there’s no reason not to—.” he’s rambling a bit, so you cut him off.

“no, Eddie. I’ve never had one. ever.”

sure the conversations of both of your childhood traumas have come up in the almost year you’ve been together. like how his uncle raised him and his dad was in jail. and how you didn’t get along with any of your family members which was ultimately the reason you moved far away until you stumbled along Hawkins.

but for some reason this bit of information always hurt you the most. growing up and never being celebrated. clearly something silly to be upset about which is naturally why you shoved it deep down and locked it away.

“why? did you not want one or something?” his questions never seem to end.

“no, I believe the words my parents used were ‘you don’t deserve to be celebrated’ or something like that. after a while I just stopped asking.” the words coming out in a rude and bitter tone. you’re not mad at him, but the feelings you repressed for so long are starting to come out, and you don’t like it at all.

the two of you sit in silence for a minute before he decides to talk again. his voice is soft, sincere, and full of pity. “baby, I—”

“it’s fine, really. let’s get inside. don’t need anyone coming out here to get you.” you turn your head to wipe the single tear you let slip out and open the door to hop out of the van. he meets you at the back, where you wait to help unload the band’s equipment.

he doesn’t open the doors like he normally does. and he doesn’t have the giddy pep in his step that he does before a gig. he looks upset and you feed off of his energy.

his arms wrap around you, one hand cradling your head, and he holds tightly you for a minute. “i’m so sorry baby, you do deserve to be celebrated. you deserve the world.”

you can’t help it anymore, softly crying into his shirt as he rubs your back. you are not a crier, at least around others, you hate being emotional and vulnerable.

after another minute and you calm down, you pull away from your sweet boyfriend who tries his best to give you a smile.

“ew,” you chuckle, sniffling one last time and wiping your tears. “that was embarrassing.”

“nothing embarrassing, doll. people have emotions, you are allowed to feel them.”

“your shirt’s all wet now.”

“that’s your take away from this?” he can’t help but laugh a little, lightening the mood and making you feel better quickly.

you smile at him and he gives you a quick peck on the lips before finally opening the back door of the van. the conversation never being brought back up, and you were beyond thankful for that.

~~~~~~

you knew he was planning something for your birthday, it was obvious despite his efforts to keep it a surprise. you didn’t want to ruin his fun though, so you always played it off whenever something would slip.

this year’s birthday will be the first one that you’ll be celebrating. it’s weird to think about, but you’d be lying if you hadn’t been secretly excited about it all month.

the day before your birthday rolls around and Eddie “randomly” suggests taking a drive. it was almost like he was trying too hard to keep whatever it was he had planned for tomorrow a secret, and it gave you endless butterflies.

you figured he wrangled the kids into decorating the new apartment the two of you got together before the start of the new year, maybe he wanted to surprise you right at midnight. whatever the case, you played his little game and did so willingly.

the drive was fairly short as he pulled into a random restaurant in town and said “actually I’m kinda hungry” before jumping out and going around to open your door for you.

“someone’s being extremely chivalrous tonight.” you giggle as he holds out his hand to help you hop out of the van.

“oh, am I not always chivalrous?”

“do you really want me to answer that?” you tease him as he wraps an arm around your torso, leading you inside.

he walks to the hostess stand and speaks to her, but you can’t hear what he’s saying, she nods and asks you two to follow her. she leads you through the maze of the dining tables and towards a back room.

“this is fancy.” you whisper to him, holding his hand a little nervously. you weren’t exactly wearing something that one might deem appropriate for the setting you were now in. “we’re underdressed for this place.” he simply squeezes your hand, silently trying to tell you not to worry about it.

“alright, here you are. enjoy.” the hostess smiles. a rather weird smile that makes you curious, still clutching Eddie’s hand in yours tightly. she moves out of the way and you see she led you into what appears to be a private room.

maybe she put you back here to hide you away from all the expensive looking people.

following him through the door, you enter a dark room. you’re very confused but before you can ask him what’s going on the lights flick on and the sight in front of you brings tears to your eyes.

“surprise!!”

every single member of your friend group is there, gathered into the room filled with decorations and their smiles.

“happy birthday, baby.” Eddie whispers into your ear while you softly cry into his embrace, hugging him and feeling endless love.

once you pull away from him, you look at his face and see pure happiness. he’s proud of himself for pulling this off, planning it the night before your actual birthday was the perfect way to make sure you were surprised.

you definitely were. and a bit overwhelmed, but in a good way.

“thanks you guys.” you sniffle, wiping the tears away from your face and mumbling an “ew” which makes Eddie roll his eyes with a smile.

you noticed the table had quite an array of cakes and you looked at it confused, why was it necessary to have so many?

“one for each year, we gotta celebrate them all.” Eddie finds you again, wrapping his arms around your waist from the back and pulling you against his chest.

“what is happening to me.” you groan, covering your wet face with your hands.

“can we get this party started or are you gonna keep crying over there?” Erica pipes up, making you laugh but earning a nudge and scolding look from Lucas.

“whaddya say, baby? shall we get this party started?” Eddie whispers in your ear, and you realize in that moment just how truly luck you are to be his. unconditionally loved and celebrated.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #stranger things x reader

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n0v4t33z · 11 months

Text

Dark Desires: Chapter III - Malice In Wonderland

Pairings: VampireCatHybrid~Seonghwa x Female Reader, VampireCatHybrid~Ateez x Female Reader

Genre: Horror, Angst, Romance, Vampire Ateez, Paranormal?

Word Count: 11.1 k

Tags/Warnings: For Mature Audiences, Violence, Language, mentions blood, Magic, Fantasy, Some Fluff, Highly Suggestive at times (This is a warning for the whole story overall)

Chapter specific: Non sexual nudity, death, kidnapping, lying and manipulation, suggestive, violence, themes of horror, hints at rocky relationship with parents (Will update if more come up)

Author's Note💌: Hi! Honestly I didn't think I was going to be able to make the Monday deadline because I was editing this on tumblr and I lost all my work?? I don't know why, I basically lost a whole days worth of progress and I had to start all over again which was frustrating but luckily I got it done just in time! Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, sorry if there are some parts that are a bit rushed I did try to fix them and lengthen them a bit. (Any mistakes I might have left unseen will be fixed at a later date!)🌙

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☽ ──── ༺𖤐༻ ──── ☾

It’s been 4 hours since they left and I’m not going to lie as time passes by the more scared and anxious I get. I hope everything goes well. While I sweep the kitchen I hear the door open and a lot of rustling. I set the broom down and head over to the entrance only to see Mingi with a female over his shoulder and she looked to be passed out. Slowly a pit in my stomach grows as I watch him carry her into the chapel like she weighed nothing . Seonghwa sees the look on my face and gently strokes my cheek “You don’t have to do this you know?” I shake my head and I say “No, I’ve got this.” and I walk over to the chapel and see her lying on the floor. She was beautiful, she also looked like she’s a very nice person. I shift my attention over to the guys, I noticed they were very serious, something all too familiar. It was just like when I first arrived here. The 8 vampires stand in front of the woman’s body patiently until a few minutes later that seemingly felt like hours until she slowly starts regaining consciousness. She slowly sits up and looks up at them and screams, a blood curdling scream that jolted me back into reality. The woman says “Where am I?!” Hongjoong walks over to her and kneels in front of her and says “Don’t worry about it, just be a good girl okay?” she begins to uncontrollably cry and panic causing Hongjoong to smirk and extend his hand in my direction “Miss y/n, could you be a dear and please help me calm her down?” I feel so pressured to do everything correctly because while I walk over to that woman I feel everyone’s eyes on me, it was honestly kind of embarrassing. I gently grab her shoulder and kneel down next to her. “Hey, it’ll be okay. Take deep breaths.” I’m so sorry… She nods while teary eyed trying to calm herself down until eventually she quiets down. Hongjoong smirks “Thank you Miss y/n. Now, do you mind cleaning her up? She’s quite dirty from transit…” Hongjoong glances at Mingi only to have him shrug in response. While I help the woman up Hongjoong continues “Yeosang, be a dear and help out Miss y/n we don’t want our guest to try and pull a fast one on us.” He turns to look at the woman with an evil grin plastered on his face. The woman seemingly hides behind me clutching onto my arm tightly.

Yeosang then walks behind me and the woman. While heading up the stairs the woman whispers “Do you know where we are?” I glance over at her and shake my head “Honestly I don’t know. I haven’t been here very long either." The girl glances at Yeosang who shoots her a scary gaze causing her to look forward and quiet down.

Once we arrive to the bathroom I look over to Yeosang “Master, do you mind waiting outside? If there’s any trouble I’ll call you.” he nods understandably but still keeps a stone face and I close the door behind me, the girl then sits down next to the bathtub then I begin to run a bath for her “So, what’s your name?” She looks over at me and says “Sumi” Wow, she's so pretty and she has a pretty name.. “That’s a petty name, I'm y/n.” I touch the water then I look over at Sumi “Your bath is ready” she shyly looks away then I turn away covering my eyes “Don’t worry I won’t look, I do have to stay in here though.” I hear rustling then a few moments later I hear a small splash. I sit next to the bathtub while Sumi begins to wash her long black hair then she quietly asks “How long have you been here? Aren’t you scared of them?” I grab the towel next to the bathtub “Well I’ve been here for about 2 weeks, and honestly I am a bit scared except I just do everything they tell me to do. I try my best to make them happy and in return they’ll be nice.” she looks at me with a shocked expression then says “Have you tried to escape?” I shake my head and I look down at the cat crest on the apron on my dress “Hm, no but I did plead with them to let me leave but it’s no use they won’t let me and in all honesty I just don’t want to anger them.” Sumi reaches over, grabs my hand and says in a very quiet voice “Let’s escape together, they already trust you enough so maybe we can figure out a way to escape." I shake my head “I’m so sorry Sumi but I can’t leave even if I wanted to.” Her eyes slightly widen then she looks at me in disbelief “What do you mean? Didn’t you say you’re scared of them? Now is your chance to escape… We can do this together.” I lean over and I quietly say “ I’m sorry Sumi but I really don’t want to be on their bad side you really don’t know what they’re capable of doing so i’m going to do what they say and maybe hopefully they let me go one day.” I get up and open the towel in my hands “Alright let's get you ready for bed now” I hand the towel to Sumi and while she waits to dry off she brushes her hair and eventually she changes into a night gown I've randomly picked for her. When we step outside, we see Yeosang patiently waiting for us. Once we escort her to the room with the sigil on the door and the floor. She gets into bed and I bring her a tea so she could relax and fall asleep faster. Before taking a sip from her tea Sumi looks over at me and says "Is this poisoned?" I shake my head "Oh no, it's not I promise. I just thought I'd bring you something to help calm your nerves." She looks down at her tea for a bit she then she looks back at me and says "Please don’t leave me here all alone, those guys really scare me.” I sit on the chair next to the bed “Don’t worry I’ll stay here until you fall asleep I won’t go anywhere I promise.”

She sets the teacup on the night stand and shifts her gaze to me “Why are you so stuck on being here? What do you even get from it?” I look down and shrug “I don’t know. At first I hated it here but if I’m being honest I still kind of like it.” Sumi scrunches her nose looking at me like I just said the dumbest thing ever “Why?” I stare at the sigil below the bed and over at the black cat stitching on my apron “I’ve made friends. Unconventional ones but I made them, which makes me feel less lonely than I did when I was living with my family.” Sumi sighs and leans back resting her head on the white headboard behind her with her arms crossed across her chest. “Since when do friends kidnap you and don’t let you go home though..” She’s right.. It doesn’t sound right. The least they should do as friends is let me briefly see my family. After a few seconds of me not saying anything Sumi reaches for my hand and tightly squeezes it “Think about it, we’ll escape together. They can’t do anything to you because you’re their friend. They wouldn’t think of hurting you right?” Mingi didn’t hesitate almost killing me though, what if some of them do feel that same way he does towards me but they’re just really great actors. What if they’re waiting for the right time to kill me? “I mean, I guess you are right. If they cared they’d trust me enough to let me go” A smile paints Sumi’s lips and she pulls my hands towards her causing me to sit at the edge of the bed and her inching close to me. “So are you going to do it?” I look at the ground and sit there silently fo a few seconds until I finally speak “Go to sleep, they sleep in the afternoon then we’ll talk about it.” Sumi smiles and gives me a hug “I promise we’ll escape and we will both go back home.” A huge knot grows in my throat and my eyes begin to sting. I hum in response and blink back my tears. They told me not to get close, but here I am…

Eventually when she falls asleep and I exit the room then Yeosang locks the door behind me “You can go to Seonghwa’s room now Miss y/n the sacrifice will begin at 3:33 which is in about 30 minutes so I can give you a sleeping potion I made the other day in the lab so you sleep right through it.” I hesitantly nod “S-Sure where is it?” he then pulls out a vial from his pocket with light purple liquid in it and hands it over to me “First, get ready for bed then take this it’ll knock you out in about 1 minute while it makes its way through your bloodstream” I nod then I walk into Seonghwa’s room. I look down at the vial of purple liquid in my hand. Should I take it? I should, but I don’t think I can but if I don’t I know i’ll regret it. I change into my night gown then I get ready for bed eventually I lay in bed then I look at the vial. “I need to know what happens to Sumi.” The door suddenly opens and it’s Seonghwa, he walks over to me and smiles “Did you take the medicine Yeosang gave you to sleep my love?” Immediately out of instinct I nod he smiles and gently presses his lips on my forehead. “I’ll see you in the morning princess get some rest, I love you.” My cheeks flush and I nod “I love you too.” he keeps his warm smile then exits and closes the door behind him. I put out the candles and I lay down in complete darkness. If it gets unbearable i’ll take the medicine. I lay there for a few minutes waiting for something to happen then I get startled by a scream and immediately I get up and I slowly open the door and I look over to the room where Sumi is in but I couldn’t see anything. Sumi then screams again but this time she says “y/n! Please help me! You said you’d never leave me!!” My stomach drops and a heavy knot forms in my throat that I gasp and I cover my mouth, my eyes slowly get blurred by the tears. I’m so sorry Sumi, you didn’t deserve this. This is all my fault I’m so sorry.. At this point I hear someone faintly speaking but I couldn’t hear exactly what they were saying. Sumi begins to violently cough and choke on presumably her own blood and I begin to silently cry trying not give myself away. Eventually it grows silent and I slowly close the door and I lay down in bed. While I look up at the ceiling I clutch onto the vial then I take the medicine. For the next minute I lay there crying until I was was too tired to cry.

The next morning I wake up and notice Seonghwa sitting next to me reading a book. He notices I’m awake and puts down his book. I look up at him then I bury my face in his chest, everything that happened last night comes pouring back in an instant. Sumi’s screams echoed in my mind. I try to stop my tears by shutting my eyes “Hey, princess you’re up what’s wrong are you okay?” I manage to get a hold of myself then I pull back slightly teary eyed he then gently strokes my cheek while he looks deeply into my eyes “What’s wrong my love?” I shake my head and I look down “It’s nothing. It’s just- I'm just a bit homesick and I miss my mom that’s all.” I sit up next to him “I’m so sorry, I wish I could let you see your family but I can’t. You’ll be in more danger if you go back now that you’ve talked and seen us.”

He rests his forehead on my shoulder for a second then looks back over at me “Besides you’re safer here than you are back home, I saw the crime rates there and it’s pretty dangerous.” I grab Seonghwa’s cold hands and I gently hold them “I’m already used to it though, I grew up with having to protect myself so I’ll be okay. Can you at least let me tell my mom I’m okay? She must be worried sick, and probably thinks I’m dead.” A hesitant expression grows on his face “I don’t know about that my love.” I’ll do this for Sumi, she’s right. I deserve to see my family at least once. I sit on his lap and wrap my arms around his neck while I nestle in his neck. “Please? You said you love me…” One of his hands slither to hold my waist and the other one moves to my thigh gently squeezing it, his breathing becoming a bit shallow. I gently kiss his neck while I run my hand down his chest “It can just be the two of us, and you can just tell my parents you’re going to be my husband. You know? To make it more official.” He slowly runs his hand through my figure and pulls me in for a kiss “Well…If that’s the case then it wouldn't hurt to go see them for a little bit, but we can’t stay there for long I don’t want Draven to see you with us..” I gasp and give him a doe eyed look then I pull him into a hug. “Thank you so much! I love you so much I promise this will be the only time I ever ask for anything!” He chuckles and pushes a strand of hair behind my ear “I love you too my love, get ready I’ll wait outside okay?” I nod and hurriedly climb off the bed. It’s scary how Seonghwa is acting like nothing happened last night. Like he didn’t just kill a whole human. Then again, their will to live was probably stronger than empathy, which is scary to think as a vampire being tied down to that monster. I hate to think that if I was put into that position I would shamelessly probably do the same thing.. it most definitely doesn't make it okay though no matter how kind they've been. It's scary to think that if they have to, they will get rid of me whether they're attached or not.

I walk over to the dresser and see the drawer stocked with clothes. After changing clothes When I head over downstairs and see Seonghwa waiting for me by the entrance I see him looking at me with a smile on his face. “You’re wearing the clothes I bought for you.” I smile and lace my hand with his “Of course why wouldn’t I? “ Seonghwa reaches over and grabs his long black trench coat jacket and puts it on. We leave the house and as soon as I step outside the chilly autumn breeze grazes through my skin and for the very first time I notice this is the first time I’ve walked through the front door since I got here. It turns out we’re in the middle of nowhere in like a forest so it makes sense as to why no one even knows about this house. Seonghwa opens the door to a really gorgeous looking black luxury car, presumably Seonghwa’s or one of the guys who knows but it looks really expensive. He looks over at me and covers my eyes “Close them, and don’t open them until I tell you okay?” I put my hands over my eyes “Wait why?” Seonghwa reaches over and gently pats my thigh “Just trust me.” Then I feel the car very rapidly increasing speed until for a split second I don’t feel like the car is moving at all then after a few seconds of feeling nothing the car goes back to driving over the road. “Okay, you can open your eyes now” He gently pats my thigh and I open my eyes, immediately I look behind us and notice it was just forest. I think I just went through a portal. Was that a portal? The more he drove down the road the more I began to recognize the roads and buildings. Until eventually I guide him to my house. We get out of the car and I run towards the door while Seonghwa calmly walks behind me. I run up the steps and knock on the door, a few seconds later my mom opens the door, gasps and I wave at her “Hey mom.” For a few seconds she looks at me like she's seen a ghost and she tightly pulls me into a hug. “y/n! Sweetheart, where have you been? We’ve been looking for you, we were beginning to assume the worst happened to you...” I shake my head "I'm fine mom, I just wanted to come and let you guys know I'm fine and relieve you from that worry." My mom looks behind her as If she was looking for someone and says "Hold that thought-"

She lets both of us in and has us sit in the living room and says “I’ll go call your dad and your brothers, they’re outside in the backyard I just want us to comfortably talk..” While she leaves for a bit to get the rest of my family Seonghwa turns to me and asks “So are you the youngest in your family?” I shake my head “Actually, I’m the oldest.l.” He nods “Ah, I see. Must be hard being the eldest.” I chuckle “Ha, yeah it kind of is. Parents have very high expectations of me which is why my relationship with my father and mother is somewhat strained.” Suddenly I hear both my little brothers run into the living room and I get up and hug them tightly “Hey Kiddos!” then I turn and see my dad entering the room looking at both and Seonghwa and I in shock. I walk over to my dad and wave “Hey dad, um I’m not dead.” My dad gives me a cold stare and says “Where did you run off to? If you wanted to move out you could have told us. You had your mom so worried sick she couldn’t even sleep.” I sigh then I look down at the floor and Seonghwa walks over to my dad and confidently extends his hand and says “Hello I’m Seonghwa, y/n’s husband.” My dad’s jaw drops while he shakes his hand and says “Are you serious? You never talked about dating anyone again. You rarely even left the house when you weren’t at work” I look over at Seonghwa and smile then I say “I met Seonghwa at the store I worked at dad.” My mom then grabs my hands and says “But you haven’t known him very long sweetheart how could you marry him a few months after meeting him?” I shake my head “Actually, I’ve known him for about 3 years, he was a regular at the store.” My mom tilts her head in confusion “You just got out of a relationship a year and a half ago sweetie..” Seonghwa gives my mom a warm smile “We started out as friends but after her breakup she was in bad shape and I kind of wanted to show her that not all men are bad. So, after we began dating we fell in love very deeply, and if I’m being honest I liked her way before we even started dating but out of respect for her relationship I decided not to make a move until she became single.” I nod and smile then my mom says “That’s very sweet of you, not many young men as respectful as you exist anymore sadly.” My mom’s eyes slightly narrow as she walks over to Seonghwa and examines his face a little closer “Sorry for changing the subject, I’ve just been meaning to ask this but how come there’s a wound on your cheek?” Seonghwa blinks, then gently touches the wound on his cheek and responds with a chuckle “Oh uh, her ex and I got into a fight last night..” I gulp and nervously look over at my parents “Ah yeah, it was bad. Kind of gave me secondhand embarrassment seeing him get what he deserved.” But it never happened… "Do you need some ointment for that sweetheart?" My mom gently tilts his head examining the wound "Oh no, I'm okay Mrs. y/ln I’m fine, y/n was kind enough to clean it for me this morning." Seonghwa gives my mom a sheepish smile causing my mom to smile back at him.” Well, you’re very handsome and it’d be a shame if it scars.”

My mom glances over at me gently grabbing my hand “So how come you disappeared without a word y/n? Did something happen?” This is so weird? She’s actually asking about my feelings, did me disappearing scare her that much? Why is she holding my hand? This is so unlike her. I look over at Seonghwa then back at my mom “Well, I wasn’t doing too well mentally so Seonghwa decided to take me on a trip and escape for a bit to gather my thoughts. It was on a whim actually, very last minute. He told me as soon as I closed the store that night.”

My mom reaches over and holds both my hands “Please Sweetie don’t ever leave like that you really worried me. Please, at least next time let us know right away so we know you’re okay.” come visit us at least once a week.” I give my mom a soft smile and I look over at Seonghwa who had a guilty expression on his face. I then look back at my mom’s sad expression, her hair in a very messy bun with dark circles under her eyes. She really did lose sleep over me and I felt terrible for that. Judging from the way Seonghwa looked though I know he felt bad. I gently fix my mom’s messy hair and I say “Actually that’s why I came here mom, I don’t know when I’ll be able to come and visit you guys since we’re planning on moving to Seonghwa’s home town. I just wanted to clear up any misunderstandings I probably created by disappearing on such short notice.” My mom looks down and sighs “You know, you being gone really made me think about how we weren’t being very good parents. ” My father silently stares at me while my mom avoids looking at me “Your father and I have always been hard on you, expecting so much from you constantly, and for that we’re so sorry.. We’re so sorry we caused you to become distant and keep so much from us..” I press my lips into a straight line and reach towards my mom “Mom, as long as you guys realize your mistakes it’s enough for me. I understand you wanted to raise me right, and of course I know I didn’t turn out the way you guys wanted me to but I hope you guys are still proud of me.” My mom pulls me into a hug “Sweetheart, I am proud of you. Your father and I are both proud of you, we just have some demons we haven’t yet been able to face even at our age.” Woah, why is she being so honest? Now I truly do think my “marriage” is what made her realize something.” I understand mom, which I why I feel like it’s best I leave so you can both process that and heal without me being your target. Time and distance cures things sometimes.” I pause feeling a knot in my throat for a few seconds then I continue “So I forgive you, for everything. Now it’s up to the both of you if you want to take the change or not, if not for me do it for my siblings. They need the safe and warm embrace of their parents.” My mom nods holding back tears, while gently cupping my face in her hands “We will try our hardest, not just for your siblings but for you as well. Even though we’re years too late.” My eyes begin to sting from the tears causing me to blink until the tears roll down my cheeks “It’s never too late mom, I just don’t want dad and you to die with regrets just how I don’t want to die resenting my parents. Regardless, I promise I’ll be in good hands.” My parents would freak out if they found out I don’t just live with one but 7 other guys, not to mention they’re all vampires who sacrifice humans to a scary Vampire demon named Draven.

After about an hour of talking to my parents and catching up I look at clock in the kitchen and realize the time. “I’m sorry mom It’s time for me to go.” She furrows her eyebrows “Why so early? You just got here?” I sigh “Well, it’s just that we leave tonight and I’ve got to get my bags ready.” Disappointed my mom hums and I feel my heart sink to my stomach. “Mom. Please take care, I’ll try calling you a few times a week okay?” My mom kisses my forehead she reaches over at the counter and hands me a box filled with sweets she made and says “Here’s some cookies and other sweet things I made sweetie eat them well okay? I’ll be waiting for your call. I’m sorry you have to go in such a rush.” I hug her tightly holding back tears again then I gently kiss her cheek then my dad looks over towards Seonghwa and finally speaks after a while “Please take care of my daughter and treat her well. Me and her might not see eye to eye most of the time but she’s still my daughter and it would wreck us if anything happened to her.” Seonghwa nods and shakes my dad’s hand “Of course sir. I’d protect her with my life, she’s safe with me. Always.” My mom calls both my little brothers to come say goodbye and they tightly hug me “I have to go now, take care of mom okay?” They both nod and walk over to hide behind my mom. I walk towards the door and take one last look at my family “Bye mom, dad, kiddos. I’ll come back when I can okay?” I wave goodbye and walk towards the car with a huge knot in my throat then my eyes begin tearing up and as soon as I sit inside the car I begin to silently cry. Seonghwa gets in the car after waving goodbye and notices I'm crying, there was instant change of expression and he leans over to hug me “Hey, no don’t cry. It’s okay, this isn’t a goodbye you’ll see them one day. When we figure out what to do with the whole Draven situation we’ll come and see them as often as you want. I’m so sorry this is all my fault.” He kisses the top of my head while he gently strokes my hair. while I hold Seonghwa’s hand “No, you can’t help who you fall in love with. Besides I actually really like living with you and the guys, I don’t feel alone anymore. The only reason I’m crying is because of everything that’s happened I really expected to die at one point and all of that led to me wanting to at least make it clear to my family I’m not dead. It didn't help my parents telling me all that stuff made me really emotional.” Sadness and remorse clouded his features “I’m glad you were able to solve things with your family, even if it was because they genuinely did think you were dead which I really am sorry about. I’m sorry about the way we met and how we just kidnapped you like that. I’ve been meaning to apologize but out of pure fear of you somehow hating me I just keep silent.” Seonghwa wipes away my tears then I gently caress his hand with my thumb and smile “It wasn’t the best way to meet the love of your life but as crazy as it sounds I’m glad it happened because for once in my life a tragedy led to happiness and you’re my happiness Seonghwa.” He rests his forehead on mine and says in a quiet tone “I love you so much, your love is so pure.” I lean In and gently kiss his hand “I love you too, I’m glad I met you.”

Seonghwa looks into my eyes lovingly for a few seconds then snaps out of it and smiles “How about we head back home, I’m sure everyone is wondering where we are.” I nod and wipe the remaining tears from under my eyes. During one of the stop lights while I was looking out the window I see a strange ultra pale man with long black hair his eyes looked black and empty like an endless void and he seemed to be staring at me with a very serious and cold expression, not to mention he has painful looking scar over his left eye and a very interesting red jeweled necklace. I slowly and awkwardly look away and I look at the road in front of me. It was probably some weird guy trying to scare people. That’s so creepy.

Eventually we make it home and as soon as I enter the house San runs in from another room and hugs me tightly “Miss y/n! Where did you go!? I was going to ask if you could make me a snack!” Wooyoung then runs into the room panting then says “San I said I’ll cook for you!! Oh, hi Seonghwa, hi Miss y/n I was wondering why I hadn’t seen either of you around.” Wooyoung walks over to us then I say “Oh yeah, we went to go visit my family because I didn’t want them thinking I was dead.” Nonchalantly Wooyoung nods and says “Oh yeah, we kidnapped you I almost forgot about that.” Seonghwa glares at Wooyoung then he nervously laughs and says “Yeah, we’re so sorry about that.” I shake my head “No worries, but enough of that we can talk about it later because guess what I brought you guys from my mom’s house!?” Both shrug while Seonghwa looks at us admiringly and San looks at the box says “What is it?” I open the pastel pink box with cookies and other sweets and smile “Some sweet things my mom made, I thought you guys would have loved to taste it since you guys liked my cookies and sweets so much. So I think you guys will love my mom’s a lot more because personally I think my mom’s are better.” San gasps “Oh! We should! Seonghwa I’m stealing Miss y/n for a little bit we’re going to have a snack!” he links his arm with mine then begins to walk away then Seonghwa says “Don’t worry about having to do anything today my love have fun. San, don’t eat them all in one sitting they’re supposed to last us a few days.” While we walk away San chuckles and says “Okay dad” I turn and smile “I’ll have fun no worries! I’ll bring you blood earl grey tea with a snack later okay?” he nods and smiles then Wooyoung looks over at Seonghwa then over at San and I and catches up to us “Wait I wanna have some too!!” We walk into the kitchen and it looked as if Wooyoung began to work on something. I walk over to the stove then I look at Wooyoung and I give him a smirk “Aww, so you were actually starting to cook for San.” He nods then looks over at San slightly irritated “Yeah, I was going to surprise him but as soon as he heard the door open I heard him running towards the door like a crazy person.” I look down at the sweets box and look back up at Wooyoung and smile “Do you wanna finish that then we can have this as a snack?” He nods and says “I was planning on cooking a dish my mom always cooked for me back when I was alive.”

I set down the box on the table and I sit down while Wooyoung washes his hands “Ohh wow that sounds nice we can’t wait to taste it right San?” San nods giving me a dimpled smile “I’m looking forward to it too since Wooyoung always told me his mom’s cooking was the best.” San sits on the chair across from me while Wooyoung cooks then I fold my hands across my lap then San says “How did it go visiting your mom? Did she freak out?” I raise an eyebrow and chuckle “Uh, yeah she freaked out she thought I was dead.” He presses his lips together then says “Well of course but what I meant is did she notice Seonghwa was a vampire?” I shake my head and shrug “I actually don’t know, she never said anything but I’m sure she probably thought his eye color was weird I noticed she kept looking at his eyes alot she also asked abut the scar on his cheek” Wooyoung chuckles “Well I mean you’re supposed to look at people in the eye when you talk to them Miss y/n. I’ve noticed you don’t really do that you usually look away or look behind us when you talk to people.” I put my head down on the table to hide my flushed face “Do I really make it that noticeable?” San reaches over to me and pats my head and says “You do, it’s kind of endearing though. It shows how shy you are although I’ll give you credit for occasionally making eye contact.” While stirring something on the stove Wooyoung says “ My personal favorite is when you don’t look at our faces at all.” I lift my head and scrunch my nose “Well, I mean can you blame me?! You guys are gorgeous, like seriously it’s kind of intimidating. It’s almost inhuman how beautiful you guys are.” I put both my elbows on the table and I put my chin on my hands and I gaze out the window while a smile slowly grows on my lips “Especially Seonghwa he’s the definition of perfect.” San’s mouth hangs open then covers his mouth then Wooyoung says “I mean I knew I was handsome but I didn’t know we all were.” I clear my throat and I smooth down my skirt then San says “You really think we’re beautiful? Don't we scare you?” I look up for a few seconds while I think then I say “I mean yes, but that doesn’t take away from your beauty. My mom once told me when I was a little kid that vampires lure in a lot of their victims with their beauty. So she definitely wasn’t wrong about vampires being so beautiful.” San smiles and holds both my hands “You’re pretty cute yourself Miss y/n, I understand now why Seonghwa is so in love with you and waited hundreds of years just to be with you.” Wooyoung grabs a small piece of carrot and throws it at San causing both of us to flinch “San stop it, you’re being weird again” San looks over at Wooyoung slightly irritated and says “I was just complimenting her I wasn’t being weird” Wooyoung then turns and looks at San “What do you think Seonghwa would say?” San shrugs then looks over to me and smiles “I’m sure he knows Miss y/n is a very cute human so I don’t think he’ll flip out over a compliment.” Wooyoung leaves the pot to boil and sits next to San and says “What else did you see when you went to your parents’ house.”

I tap my index finger to my chin then I say “Well, my dad was mad at me when he first saw me because I disappeared, I saw my little brothers, and also this is random but I saw a really pale guy with long black hair, black eyes and a huge scar on his left eye. He was staring at me with this really serious and scary facial expression but I think he was just trying to freak me out though.” San and Wooyoung’s eyes almost pop out of their skull then Wooyoung says in a very concerned tone “What was he wearing?” I shrug “Hm, he was wearing all black. I didn’t really pay much attention but he wasn’t badly dressed. I do remember his pitch black eyes, his scar and this really interesting blood red jeweled necklace because it looked a bit dated but those three are what stick out alot why? Do you guys know him?” San and Wooyoung both look at each other in complete horror then San says “We have to go tell Seonghwa and Hongjoong, this isn’t good. He knows.” My heart begins to race and my stomach drops then I get up from my seat not being able to sit still “Wh- What do you mean? Are you talking about Draven?” They both nod then they get up and Wooyoung turns the stove off and says “Stay with Miss y/n, I’ll go talk to them.” San nods and before I’m able to go back to my seat I begin to shake to the point where I could barely stand up San then helps me sit down he then kneels in front of me holding my hands and says in a low comforting voice “We promise we’re going to do anything in our power to protect you.” My lip trembles and my eyes well up with tears then San says “Don’t cry. You might not know this but you’re far more powerful than you lead on, your bloodline will protect you too if anything happens to us.” I cover my mouth trying to keep myself from crying loudly. I don’t want to lose Seonghwa, I love him so much. I also don’t want to lose my new friends either. I don’t want anyone to suffer because of me. Seonghwa and all the guys including Mingi walk into the kitchen with Seonghwa immediately walking over to me taking me in his arms “Please don’t cry, you’re breaking my heart. It’s okay, remember I told you and your parents I’d protect you with my life and that’s what I’m going to do.” I hug him back tightly and bury my face in his chest while the other guys are unable to do anything but silently watch.

“I don’t want to lose you, I can’t lose you. I also can’t lose my friends, and that includes Mingi and Yunho even if they hate me. I can’t lose anyone of you guys.” He gently strokes my hair I then notice from the corner of my eye Mingi’s gaze going from cold to a soft concerned gaze. Yunho then looks over at Mingi then back at me, Seonghwa then says in a low tone “Everything will be okay.” He’s lying, he's trying to convince himself everything will be okay but I have a feeling he’s lying.. I pull back and he gently wipes my tears away “I’m going to be a sorceress like Ursula. I don’t know anything about being a witch but i’m not going to sit here and do nothing and watch you guys get punished because of me.” Yeosang looks over at the guys “I’ll help her. I’ve studied witches before so I have a few books on them.” I look over and see Yeosang give me a shy smile I then say in a barely audible tone “Thank you so much.” Hongjoong then says in a skeptical tone “So you saw Draven today? Why didn’t you tell Seonghwa?” I shrug while stippling my fingers “I honestly didn’t know that’s what he looked like, I genuinely thought it was just some weirdo on the street trying to mess with me so I brushed it off.” Seonghwa looks over at Hongjoong and says “It’s not her fault. It was mine for not telling her anything, for trying to pretend like she didn’t need to know. I’m sorry.” San gently pats Seonghwa’s back and says “You wanted to protect her it’s okay. Besides, she’s not totally clueless. Wooyoung, Jongho and I have been telling her things about the supernatural world and the effect her blood will have on a vampire if they drink it” Jongho then chimes in.” We also kinda told her about our pact with Draven. Don’t get mad, we knew something like this was going to happen so that’s why we just went ahead and gave her a heads up.” Hongjoong stands there for a few seconds glaring at the boys then sighs “I would have been really upset but I mean you guys did the right thing so there’s not much I can do there, thank you for not leaving her in the dark about things.” He then turns to look at me and says “Miss y/n, I’d like to apologize on behalf of all of us for bringing you into this mess. I’m sure you regret meeting all of us.” I shake my head “Like I told Seonghwa earlier, I believe all of this was meant to happen. Somehow though I was able to find the beauty behind the madness, because of you guys I no longer feel alone and sad. The longer I’m here the more at home I feel, you guys are my destiny.” Yunho then says in a somber tone “Aren’t you scared knowing that because of us you’ll be a blood bank for Draven until you die?”

Evreyone looks at Yunho with a very surprised look on their faces then he continues “You know that’s the reality right Miss y/n? If he takes you that'll be the ugly reality you'll have to live. None of us wanted you to see it but you made it so hard because you kept asking too many questions.” I bite the inside of my lip “Well, of course I’m scared but fear isn’t going to stop me from stopping Draven, especially not when the love of my life and my friends are at stake. The reason I was asking so many questions is because of the way all of you made things sound, I had to find out for myself if there was a way I could help.” Yunho quietly nods in understanding and looks down “I honestly don’t know what we ever did to deserve you Miss y/n.” Did he just- Wooyoung looks over at Hongjoong and says “So, what do we do now? Do we summon Draven?” Hongjoong shakes his head while he massages the side of his temple “No, that’s the last thing we wanna do. We’ll have to wait until he appears himself, it’ll buy us alot of time.” I don’t know why but I keep hearing that phrase. Buying time. Seonghwa looks over at the stove and says “You didn’t get to eat did you?” I shake my head and he smiles “You should eat so that cute brain of yours works properly when you study.” He looks over at Yeosang and says “Do you mind staying with Miss y/n for a bit? Maybe you could start teaching her about her bloodline I’ll catch you up afterwards” He nods and evreyone walks out of the kitchen leaving me with Yeosang. He walks over to me and sits down in the chair in front of me while I grab some of the food Wooyoung prepared I serve Yeosang his favorite, just pure blood. I set it in front of him while I also set my plate down he then breaks the silence “It’s brave of you to try and help us.” I carefully pour tea into my cup “Of course, I’d do anything at this point for my friends but most importantly the love of my life.” Yeosang traces his index finger along the rim of the glass “That’s very sweet of you and a very pure intention that I hope works in your favor.” I shove a spoonful of food in my mouth he then pulls his finger away from the glass and clears his throat “So about your relative Sorceress Ursula, not only was she a well known pyromancer..” The corners of my eyes crinkle “What is that? I mean I’ve heard of them but I don;t really know what they do besides control fire..” A small smirk appears on his angelic features “Well, a pyromancer is a sorcerer who can manipulate and conjure up fire at will..” I take a sip of my tea then I say “Oh wow Ursula was pretty strong I’m sure it took her years.” Yeosang nods and says “Yeah she was but the more you study and practice I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it, at least the basics in a few months.” Can I really do this? My only hope is that my determination is enough to help me.I stare at the table then I lift up my gaze and I say “I have a bad feeling I won’t have a few months.” Yeosang gives me a concerned look “Don’t say that, if only Seonghwa got a good look at the guy maybe we would know for sure if it was actually him but let’s just hope it wasn’t him. We’re probably just freaking over nothing.”

After I finish eating Yeosang takes me to his work room located in the chapel. He opens the wooden door to reveal a dimly lit room with beakers and flasks each containing different substances and along the walls were bookshelves filled with many different kinds of books. It was like a small time capsule of a Victorian era laboratory. I quietly gasp and smile “Oh my gosh Yeosang, you have so many books!” he chuckles and gently massages his neck slightly embarrassed “I guess I do, thing is that’s not even half of them. A Lot of the books in the whole house are mine the other ones are either Seonghwa or Hongjoong’s” I walk over to a bookshelf and immediately spot Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes “Oh my gosh, can I borrow this? Is this the original cover?” He nods “It is, I remember when it first came out it’s nice to see you have a really great taste in books and of course, I have the whole series so whenever you want to borrow a book just let me know.” I smile and hug the book then Yeosang puts on his glasses and inspects carefully at the bookshelves eventually pulling out a few books “I don’t wanna overwhelm you with reading but I feel like these 4 books have very good information on not just beginner spells but also a little more intermediate. I also gave you one specific book for necromancy if you want to dip your toes into that. I will say necromancry is powerful, but I trust you will use it correctly.” He puts the 4 thick books in my arms and I glance at him with concern “What if I accidentally hurt you guys..” Yeosang gently puts his hand on my shoulder “It won’t happen, I know so. Trust yourself.” I nod then Yeosang pulls a chair and clears a small space on the table and smiles “You can sit here and read while I work on a few things. If you have a question you can just ask.” I sit down and open the first book and I begin to read, a few hours pass until I started dozing off. I should really go freshen up, I’m falling asleep and this isn’t the time to be falling asleep no matter how boring these books are. “Hey Yeosang, I’ll be right back I have to use the bathroom.” He nods and without looking up from his notes says “Okay, I’ll be here. Hurry back.”

Once I finish I wash my hands and walk outside. I walk past Mingi’s room and I hear the door open and immediately I come to a halt, I slowly turn around and see Mingi standing in the middle of the hallway. I gasp and I run towards the stairs until I feel him grab my arm and he says in a sincere but very soft tone “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.” Stay on guard y/n. I gently pull my hand away from Mingi’s grip and I step back a bit “Do you need something Master Mingi?” I say in a serious tone he nods then says in a soft voice almost like he’s whispering “I’m not supposed to be anywhere near you without anyone else here with me but after hearing you call me a friend I honestly felt terrible for what I did to you. I let the prejudice between vampires and witches get in the way of seeing what a great caring person you are and for that I’m sorry.” I glance over at Mingi and his face was painted with remorse, I quietly sigh and cross my arms in front of my chest “Master Mingi, you tried to kill me. I can’t just trust you that easily after something like that that’s not how it works.” He runs his hands through his hair and nods “Yeah I know, I just wanted to put it out there that I don’t hate you anymore especially after seeing how much you genuinely mean to everyone else here especially Seonghwa.” I stare at the ground for a few seconds then he reaches over to touch my shoulder and out of fear I slightly jump up and he pulls his hand back “I’m so sorry.” I fidget with my fingers then I look up at him “I forgive you Master Mingi. I understand your urges are hard to control at times especially being around humans but I think It was also my fault too for making it even harder for you to control yourself by going into that room even after Seonghwa told me not to and making you upset so for that I’m so sorry.” Mingi looks in to the distance as if he was trying to process my apology then he says “It’s okay, it’s just the reason Seonghwa told you not to go in there is because there are artifacts in that room that if touched by a human the power surging through those items could kill you.” Wow, but what are they used? Sacrifices? “Hm, like what?”

Mingi looks around making sure no one is around and steps closer towards me “Well, one of them is the Shard of Hades, it is said to be made of the Hades’ own weapon the bident. It grants you huge amounts of power and is able to control masses. Which is why anytime a human touches it they die, due to the dark energy emanating from it. The only beings to ever be able to wield this weapon is immortals like gods, demons, or vampires which is why it’s dangerous. One huge drawback with immortals wielding it is that if their willpower is not strong enough the dark energy consumes them thus sucking the immortality out of them.” I raise my eyebrow “Why is this in your possession if it’s so dangerous?” Mingi shrugs “It belonged to our creator, we honestly don’t know how he got a hold of it. He left it behind after he died so we decided to keep it away from Draven because one thing for sure is that he would definitely take advantage of its powers.” I narrow my eyes slightly “Hm okay then how come the door wasn’t locked?” He presses his lips into a straight line “It was…Just maybe not for humans. The sigil on the door, in the room and under your bed are a protection sigil that way we’d know if anything unhuman has entered our home. Unfortunately we underestimated you, usually people don’t get ballsy enough to go down there after we tell them not to which is our mistake.” I’m guessing even vampires themselves majorly fuck up. “I mean you can’t expect humans to listen and submit to everything you say even if their lives are in danger..” He looks over his shoulder again and says “I mean to be fair we never expected it because this is the very first time a human has stayed here this long, they’re usually either dinner or a sacrifice.” I nervously laugh then Mingi gasps and shakes his head “Oh no, you’re not either of those don’t worry.” MIngi looks away then looks at the ground.

“y/n? Can I tell you something and please don’t take this the wrong way” I slightly raise my eyebrows and I say “What is it Master Mingi?” He awkwardly shoves his hands in the pockets of his pants and says in a slight embarrassed tone “So, Yunho told me your cooking is really good and I was wondering if maybe one day if you’re comfortable enough with me I could maybe try it?” I never thought I’d see the day where Master Mingi would confess him wanting to try my cooking, that’s so cute. “Oh you mean like have dinner with Masters San, Wooyoung, Jongho and me?” He nods while looking away clearly embarrassed “Of course, you can join us tomorrow if you’d like.” I nod and for a few seconds we stand there with Mingi suddenly getting really quiet then I hear Yeosang call out my name. Mingi looks at me with eyes pleading me not to tell anyone that we’ve talked. He puts his index finger in front of his lips and quickly goes back into his room. A few seconds later Yeosang walks up the stairs and sees me walking down the hallway and says “I’m sorry I got worried. You were gone for quite a while is everything okay?” I nod “Yeah, everything is okay my mind was just wandering and I kind of lost track of time.” I begin walking down the stairs with Yeosang walking next to me, eventually we get back to his science room and I go back to studying for a few more hours while Yeosang is busy observing a mixture in a beaker bubbling over a burner and tending to other stuff in his lab. Suddenly there’s a knock at the door and Yeosang automatically says “Come in.” too focused reading I feel someone kiss the top of my head and I look up and see it’s Seonghwa he then says “Sorry it took long my love me and Hongjoong just got caught up talking that we lost track of time. ”

He turns and looks at Yeosang and says “Hey, Hongjoong wants to see you he’s gonna go over what we talked about.” Yeosang turns off the burner and continues writing stuff down “Okay, i’ll be there in a few I just need to finish writing this observation.” I close the book I was reading then I say “I’ll just go back to our room and study” Seonghwa tilts his head slightly “How about so you’re not by all yourself you can stay with me in my work room?” I smile then I say “Anything to have an excuse to hang out with you.” He chuckles then helps me with my books then I before I walk out the door I tap Yeosang’s shoulder and I say “Thank you for the books, I’ll return them to you when I’m done” He smiles shyly and says “Of course anytime also please take your time and let me know if you need help with something” I nod then I walk over to Seonghwa and we head over to his work room. As soon as I enter I notice his work room has no windows, his work space is also very neat and tidy and like Yeosang his work space was a small time capsule, now I understand why they don’t really leave their workspaces that often. I’m sure it reminds them of when they were alive. I look over at Seonghwa and quietly giggle “Wow, you’re very neat and tidy and this looks like a workspace of a 17th century poet it’s really beautiful.” He nods and sets down my books onto his desk and says “I’m glad you like it, a lot of the things in here are things I used to own when I was a human.” He gently touches a small wooden music box and lifts up his gaze to look back at me and continues “Like this music box, it doesn’t work anymore but having it here with me is comforting.” I softly smile while I take a closer look at it without touching it. “I like it, I think it’s cute how much you treasure this. It's like a reminder that you were once human and your life prior to becoming a vampire.” he nods and sits down on his slightly worn leather chair and says “Yes, it is a much needed reminder and if I’m honest, when you turn into this you tend to forget your human qualities and tend to become very inhuman. Not just physically but in the way you think too, you lose yourself…”

I sit down in the chair in front of his desk and I carefully watch him “I lost myself and turned into a monster, that in the moment I couldn’t tell until I realized it was you we were going to sacrifice. The love of my life, my soul mate. You brought me back to my senses.” I smile and reach for his hand “I’m so proud of you for realizing your mistake, I'm sure those urges are very hard to handle and it’s very easy to lose yourself and give in to that animalistic behavior.” Somewhat ashamed he silently nods and I sit there gently rubbing my thumb on the top of his hand. “All those sacrifices don’t define you. Part of me believes you did it because you had to not because you wanted to.” He reaches over and strokes my cheek without breaking eye contact, he then lets out a small sigh and says “Of course I had no other choice, none of us did. Draven and his older brother saved all of us from the brink of death and working for him was a way to repay him for keeping us alive.” Everything is beginning to make sense as to why they’re tied down to this evil thing, not only do they have a contract with him but he’s also probably one of the reasons they’re not dead. Me being here is only going to make things worse for them, I can’t let them take the fall because of me. If they’re going to live forever they should be able to live a life they enjoy not live a life as henchmen for a demon. “So in a way he’s keeping all of you to work for him against your will.”

Seonghwa nods and sits back on his chair falling completely silent once again until I speak “Now I see the loyalty for this man isn’t because you admire him, it’s out of fear…” I look at one of the books from the corner of my eye and look back at Seonghwa’s sullen expression. The only way to truly make Seonghwa happy is to defeat this demon. I force a smile and say “I’ll work hard to protect you, I won’t let you suffer.” Seonghwa’s face lights up a little bit and gestures me to give him a hug. I get up and walk behind his desk and I lean over and hug him while I rest my head on his shoulder “Can I ask you ask a question?” He hums slightly nodding his head “What was your life as a human?” He chews the inside of his cheek completely avoiding eye contact with me so I hesitantly grab his hand again “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” He shakes his head “No, it’s just kind of a hard thing to look back on but it’s also something you need to know about me before you make your choice whether you want to stay with me or not.” I raise my eyebrow slightly surprised. He clears his throat and adjusts in his chair and gently pulls me over so that I sit on his desk facing him “So, when I was human it was my father, mother, my older sister and I. Years before I was born my great grandfather was a former warrior for our village who eventually turned into a thief, he was later killed for his actions after he robbed a noble after he almost killed him. Unfortunately, my family suffered the consequences for my grandfather’s actions and my whole family was ostracized from the village and we were treated like outcasts. That led to our family to become very poor and unable to afford food and other important necessities a lot of the time. So as I grew up I resented not only my grandfather but the people of our village for blaming us who had done nothing. One day when my older sister got severely ill I had no choice but to steal the medicine she needed to get better. The bad part is that from that day forward it was a habit that soon turned into something I enjoyed, I enjoyed seeing those people responsible for my family’s ostracization suffer even if it was at my expense. I slowly became a well known delinquent in the village, constantly getting into fights and trouble to the point where my mother eventually stopped reacting to my injuries from how frequent it was.“ I would have never guessed Seonghwa being this type of person prior to becoming a vampire. I genuinely thought he probably came from a rich family or was a royal himself. The way he carries himself is so proper and prince like, nothing like the delinquent he says he was. “Wow, that’s- I’m so sorry you went through this, you spent your human life on survival mode.” He meets my eyes and says “I’m sorry I was not the person you probably thought I was. In a way I deceived you, I was a horrible person and I did many things I wish I could take back. You have no idea how much I hate myself, I could have become better but I didn’t. I became what my village expected of me.” I pull his hands a little closer to me resting them on my lap “Look, I’m not going to sit here and say what you did was okay because it wasn’t. The good thing is that if you recognize your mistake, you’re headed in the right direction. You feeling remorse for your actions means that you do have a heart.” He furrows his eyebrows and I continue “No one is perfect whether they are living or undead” He sighs and defeatedly looks away from me “I know. I just want to be perfect for you.” I smile and pull him into my arms, his head resting on my chest “I know you do, but you don’t have to. I’m happy the way you are. Flaws and everything, just how you love me for me.” He pulls me a little closer to him while I gently stroke his sliver hair, we stay quiet for a few minutes enjoying being in each other’s arms until Seonghwa eventually pulls back “I almost forgot to tell you how I met our creator Sir Jongkook.” I give him a small smile “Go ahead, I'm listening.”

Seonghwa laces his fingers with mine and looks up at me from his seat “Well, Sir Jongkook and Draven were explorers at the time and they happened to stay at our village since our village was well known for its nightlife. It just so happened he was on his way to meet up with Draven at a tavern near the nightlife district and that’s when he runs into me getting the living daylights beat out of me after I foolishly picked a fight with the mayor’s son, I eventually became outnumbered. So, I don’t remember this part as I was passed out by then but Sir Jongkook fended them off, when he got closer to my body to check up on me and he realized how severe the beating was. He decided to feed me his blood because I was very close to dying and he felt horrible and didn’t want to just leave me there so he figured he’d take me in his care and give me a new life, one where I wasn’t so vulnerable and troublesome.” I see why they’re so fond of this man, he was very empathetic for a vampire. I can only imagine how happy he made them in order them to admire them so much they still keep a painting of him. “So I’m guessing your creator was one of those rare vampires who aren’t evil?” He nods “Yes, he was a very good man. I learned a lot from him, the rest are very fond of him too. He was there when we needed him the most.” I hold his face in my hands gently stroking around the wound on his cheek “I promise we’ll bring your creator back home, so he can finally rest in peace.” He pushes back a strand of hair behind my ear and rests his forehead on mine “ I love how empathetic you are towards our creator despite never meeting him, you would have loved him..” Great aunt Ursula please, if you can hear me please help me I’m begging you. I know I just found out about you not long ago but I need help awakening my powers. I need to redeem myself, for not only letting a person die but I need to find a way to get rid of Draven one way or another to end this.

☽ ──── ༺𖤐༻ ──── ☾

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