#but they go so well with shorter boots because you can see so much of my boy's thick thighs

[sleepyorc]

ATTENTION: ORC THIGHS

[onlyswan]

summary: in which you drive jungkook mad but you make his heart beat.

idol!jungkook x f!reader, est. relationship / fluff, suggestive, a pinch of angst / word count: 5k

content/warnings: tried sumn different so this is mainly from jungkook’s pov :D !! drummer!oc ur so cool & i’m stealing u from ur bf 🏃— mention of a 10 yr age gap between jk & a guy who likes oc (he’s hella pissed off) ; mentions of (car) s^x ; allusion to a bl^wj^b ; jk just got home from tour & oc is tipsy, needy, & dramatic as hell T_T ; oc /briefly/ touches jk while he’s driving & he /nearly/ loses his shit & crashes the car (he doesn’t) (i’m kidding) + to the anon who wanted to jk’s cheek scar to get a kissy here u go 🥺

> in which masterlist!

note: oc is so shot glass of tears coded especially in this… i’m glad i’m posting this after golden came out just so i could say it 🥰 this takes place after this drabble sooo the end of oct 2018 <3 if u’ve read the prev drabble too, this was when jk said those exact words in the past 🥺 wrote this in the middle of hell week so i was half out of my mind :'] as always feedback & reblogs rrr always appreciated !! 🥺

—

jungkook loves the sound of rain— the gentle knocks on every surface of the earth has always been a lullaby even during daylight.

tonight is a different story, however. it is defeaning, terrifying even. he can barely see what is infront of him, spare the occasional headlights blazing across the slippery roads. his umbrella is being stolen away by the harsh gusts of wind and the mud stains on his sneakers are well-hidden by the plain black.

and yes, he is tired; and yes, this is hard, but that is the end of it.

you’re exactly where you told him you’d wait, far behind the edge of the roof where the rainwater falls from and splashes on the ground. you stand out in his blue oversized shirt, one that he purposely left behind in your closet so he could have something else to wear when he sleeps over.

you’re too busy typing on your phone to see him crossing the parking lot; he feels his very own vibrate in the pocket of his sweatpants. however, his giddy smile fades when a man exits through the entrance door and approaches you with a red umbrella. his strides become slightly hurried then, as he watches you politely decline it with that heart-fluttering smile of yours everybody adores.

“oh no, really, i’m fine. you might need it later! my boyfriend is already coming to pick me up anyway.”

jungkook acts cool. he tucks his hand in the pocket of his sweatpants, tries to make himself appear bigger because he realizes that he would be inches shorter than the man if not for the platforms of his shoes.

“____, baby!”

upon hearing your name coming from the lips of your lover, your face lights up even brighter.

“jungkook!”

you greet him with an embrace, jumping into his arms before he can properly set down his umbrella on the ground.

“yah, yah-yah! be careful!” he chuckles as he wraps his arms around your waist to catch you, peering down to check how high your boots are for you to be running and jumping around freely.

“hey, i’m going back inside- there’s more customers coming in. make it home safe, alright?”

the stranger tries to catch your attention, and jungkook’s protectiveness swiftly kicks in when he lays a hand on you and slides it down to your lower back. your boyfriend turns you away from the unprompted touch by pulling your body closer to his side, and he is unable to control how his eyebrows knit together in annoyance.

he wasn’t planning on giving much thought to the presence of a man around you. he knows better than that. but he has never heard about this one, which raises the question of who the fuck is he to freely touch you like that?

“oh- alright! thank you, jun!”

“you better take care of ____, man. it’s dangerous around here during this time.”

he receives a rather heavy and condescending pat on the shoulder, and so, with his annoyance bubbling worse, he wears a passive aggressive smile on his face.

“yeah, of course i am,”

jun’s nostrils flare as he witnesses you sneakily slide your hands underneath jungkook’s hoodie in search of warmth.

“i’m here now, so there’s no need to worry about my girlfriend anymore.”

he nods, then forces himself to smile. “that’s good, then.”

“yeah, thanks. we’re leaving.”

“oh, okay. have a nice night!”

“you too,”

he turns on his heel and returns inside the busy establishment— but not before jungkook made sure that he saw the bruises on his knuckles that he got from his boxing sessions.

his jaw clenches as he glares at the door.

is he being petty? sure, to hell with that. he doesn’t care. he’s always been one to trust his gut, and he has a bad feeling.

he is met by a love-drunk smile when his undivided attention is at last given to you, in the form of fond eyes and affectionate strokes of your hair.

“who was that?”

“eh, new bartender,” you shrug with disinterest. “hm, i think he’s 31…? he’s nice but he keeps talking about wrestling.”

he raises an eyebrow at the mention of his age, while your lips form a sad pout.

what the hell? he thought he would be 25 at most.

“the tv has been in the same channel for the past two weeks because of him. it’s all i’ve been seeing! i don’t like it-” you whine in distress, quite frankly, a little traumatized.

an endeared smile is coaxed out of him at your adorableness, how your speech is a little slurred and how you’re looking at him like you’re begging him to do something about it.

“makes me nervous,”

his dominant hand closes into a fist.

if he only he had known. should’ve fucking punched the guy, give him a taste of what he seems to be a huge fan of.

“let’s watch something calming when we get home, how about that?”

you nod your head, eyes that twinkle with eagerness fluttering shut when he leans in for a much awaited kiss. how sweet, he feels a little more alive than before. he can smell it, even taste it— the peach margarita you started sipping on before the band’s first set. concocted by jun, he presumes. he pulls away with a small smile, licking his lips for the traces of you that clung to him.

out of the blue, you burst into a fit of giggles, weak knees buckling as your weight crashes on him.

“i missed you!”

“babe, are you seriously drunk?” he chuckles, holding you with a secure grip around your torso.

“maaaybe tipsy…? i was pretending not to be.” you stand on your tip-toes to nuzzle your face against his neck, mumbling sheepishly. “only trust you.”

—

“i should’ve accepted the umbrella.” you grunt childishly, body going limp on jungkook’s back, except for the arm holding up the umbrella that shields the both of you from the pouring rain.

“yah!” he scolds you, clearly not pleased with the words that just came from your mouth. “what does that mean?”

“i’m embarrassed! they’re probably feeling bad for you.”

the last sentence comes out as a whisper, pertaining to the side glances you’ve been attracting from strangers as you make your way to your boyfriend’s car.

unfortunately, he had to park somewhere far because the restobar’s parking lot was already full.

you jokingly complained about staining your white boots with dirt and mud, but you instantly regretted it when he bent down, signalling you to ride on his back without an ounce of hesitation.

“our shoulders always get wet when we share an umbrella,” he said. “if i carry you, wouldn’t it be better?”

“embarrassing? some would even say romantic!”

something peculiar happens then— when your lips ghost over his left cheek, planting an affectionate kiss there that lasts for seconds. you pull away with a smacking sound, giggly and bubbly, might be his favorite version of you.

“i love you,” you hum, grasping the umbrella upright before it could tip over.

he doesn’t know if you did it on purpose or not, kissing him precisely where his scar is, but his heart jumps in his chest when he feels it begin to throb.

as if the wound from his childhood has come alive. as if, once again, he is bleeding as he glares at his older brother, and he still wants to play games on the computer oblivious to the fact that it would leave a permanent scar, a brand new landmark on his body.

you mistake his silence for something else.

you frown, warm breath tickling his neck as you quietly ask. “are you still mad at me?”

he sighs, vision landing on the ground as his walking pace slows down. “no? i was wrong. i shouldn’t have questioned your decision in the first place… why would i be mad?”

you started playing the drums for your friend’s band two months ago, just as soon as he left for tour. you volunteered after witnessing how distraught they were when their drummer vanished without a trace. he learned that it used to be a hobby of yours from childhood until early teenage years, playing the drums, but it was robbed from you when your father took his instruments with him when he abandoned your home for another.

he was pleasantly surprised when he learned about it, recounted all the times your hands and fingers were drumming on any sort of surface and his head naturally bopped to the beat, but then again, you never brought it up.

isn’t ____ so cool? he would proudly say when he flaunts you to his friends, even the protocol team, who have never seen him so happy.

three times a week, from nine in the evening until midnight, your phone was propped up on an empty table infront of the stage, and him, on the other side of the globe, excitedly watched you from backstage while he was getting ready for their own show. some other times, he was in his hotel room, or the private jet. his patience has been tested by crappy wifi, nosy and noisy people, and his earphones that stopped working while you looked insanely attractive grooving to ‘why’d you only call me when you’re high?’ as you effortlessly played the drums. he showered you with compliments as you did for him. you’re working hard so he must do the same.

he arrived home from tour the other day, spent the rest of its hours sleeping. yesterday, he waited for you at school and then at work like a lost puppy, slept on your bed (if he’s being honest, the two of you didn’t do much sleeping) then woke up at 9am for work.

and he tried his best, he really did, to get out of the company early enough to catch you playing a song or two. after all, it was your last day at the job.

much as you enjoyed reconnecting with an old flame— loved the overflowing tips that came from those who were amazed by your talent (well, there were also those who were just trying to get into your pants), the moment that the old drummer got down on his knees begging to be taken back by his best friends, just like how you became a part of the band, you voluntarily stepped down.

jungkook didn’t agree with this decision. he didn’t understand why you’d sacrifice something that makes you happy for a person who fucked up and wasted what they had. you went back and forth over it on the phone until you cried, told him that it wasn’t easy for you, and he couldn’t hold you in his arms or kiss your face. he could only apologize, and it even felt insincere doing it through a screen.

maybe he’s only relieved that you no longer need to be around a man an entire decade older than he is, who is obviously interested in you and serves you alcohol drinks. no, that doesn’t sit right with him. he needs jun, or whatever the fuck his true name is, to stay very far away from his baby.

“i’m just sad that i never got to watch you perform in person.”

you rest your cheek on his shoulder, heavy eyelids slowly blinking as the headlights of a black van blindsides you.

what the fuck. too bright.

“me too…”

—

“i’m bored,” you release a dramatic sigh, stealing a glimpse of jungkook at the driver’s seat, just to see if you caught his attention like you intended.

his eyes are trained on the dashboard, however, focused on the navigation guide displayed on his phone. he isn’t very familiar with this part of the city. it took him more than an hour to arrive at the address you sent him, including the time he spent in the middle of traffic.

“forty-eight minutes, then we can do whatever you want.”

“whatever i want?”

he slows down the car, briefly turning his head to find you expectantly looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

“of course,” he laughs, taking one hand off the wheel to squish your cheeks together. “just tell me what it is, baby.”

he doesn’t catch the sad look that flashes across your face after you lose his touch.

“then i’ll tell you when i figure out what i want,” you say quietly.

“i thought you already had something in mind?”

“nope,” you answer with yet another sigh.

you choose to stare out the window in silence, body completely slumping into your seat in defeat.

jungkook’s senses are sharp, or he likes to believe so. “are you okay?”

“i’m okay,”

“you sure?”

“hmm,” you hum curtly, and then you close your eyes, so he decides not to press further despite wanting to.

he meets a red traffic light not long after that. and so, he hurriedly grabs the black fleece blanket in the backseat. he envelopes you in it, crossing the distance between you to softly press his lips onto yours for a goodnight kiss. he feels you respond, albeit lazily, and he smirks cockily when you lift yourself up to chase him for one more, please— desperately, to get your fill of goodnight kisses from the many nights that you missed it.

the time seems to tick excruciatingly slow now that you’re quiet. a minute is multiplied by a hundred. the steady rhythm of your breathing keeps him sane throughout dark avenues and encounters with reckless drivers of the midnight scene.

he missed you. he missed you so much, and he knows that you’re tired from university, and tutoring high school students in english, and playing the drums for more than two hours… but he selfishly wishes that you’re awake right now so he can make up for the two months that you were apart.

be careful of what you wish for, they said.

jungkook should know better by now.

“i can’t sleep,” he hears you whisper in a dulcet tone that indirectly tells him you’re in need of some love… but he isn’t given the chance to act upon that request because you’re already all over what it is that you need.

he swallows thickly, glancing down at your hand that has somehow found its way to his inner thigh— zeroing in on your red nails, can feel them faintly grazing his skin.

you’re so pretty. everywhere.

even when naked and bare.

no, especially. it’s all he can think about.

he can draw you from memory.

“____,” he utters your name through gritted teeth, heart beginning to race a thousand miles per second in his chest.

the effect of your teasing touch is instantaneous, slowly inching closer and closer to where his growing erection is. his eyes remain focused on the road, but he fears that he’ll start thinking with his dick soon if you carry on with this act a few seconds longer.

“shit, not now, baby- please- not while i’m driving.”

your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, poorly concealing a self-satisfied smirk, and you pretend not to hear a single word from his plea.

a minx, that’s what you are, always causing trouble and blurring lines in his eyes.

“____, i’m not joking around. don’t make me mad-”

his warning is cut short by-

“fuck… fuck,” he curses, filter flying out the window once he feels you tracing the outline of his hard-on, the feather-light touch of your fingers smoothly gliding across the fabric of his sweatpants, and he completely loses it when your soft palm caresses his cock, so gentle that it feels almost innocent.

okay, so he couldn’t feel it because you weren’t skin-to-skin, but he knows that your hands are soft, can feel his imagination running wilder because he has memorized the way they feel on most parts of his body.

you’re so incredibly nasty and evil for this— squeezing him lightly, taking advantage of how sensitive he’s gotten, making him tremble as pleasure shoots up his spine. his breath stutters in his lungs and he unconsciously pushes harder on the gas.

and although it means fighting every fiber of his being that painfully yearns for more, he seizes your wrist in an iron grip, placing your hand over the gearstick while his sits heavy on top of yours.

“____! behave! you’re going to get us killed!”

he watches you jut out your bottom lip through the rearview mirror, eyes hazy with lust staring down at where your hand used to be, and then his handsome face. he is evidently flushed, honey skin dusted with a rosy pink. all the way to the tips of his ears, down to his neck.

while he’s driving? really?

doesn’t this only happen in wet dreams?

you are not real.

“then pull over,” you plead. “please?”

he releases a shaky breath. you’re always so needy with alcohol in your system, drove him into total insanity while he couldn’t be here to give you what you wanted.

“no, you need to learn how to be patient… told you we can do whatever you want when we get home, right?”

wrong move.

the silence returns, and just when he thought that you went back to your journey to slumber, the sound of your sniffles fill the car.

jungkook’s heart breaks into a million pieces.

also, he wants to slam his head against the steering wheel.

you make it so fucking hard to resist you; you always get what you want. it becomes much harder when he is the subject of your desire and he loves being loved.

“haven’t i been patient enough…? i missed you so much.”

“and i missed you too!” he brings your intertwined hands to his lips, pressing them on your skin. “fuck, you have no idea how much… please, don’t cry.”

“then pull over,” you stubbornly insist, and he is so close to driving this car into a lamp post. “fuck me at the backseat.”

“can’t,” he mumbles, sounding almost pained, and he is. he wants you so bad, it hurts. “we’re going to have to do it without protection.”

“what do you mean?” you exclaim.

you rip your hand away from his, not wasting time in unlocking the glove compartment, and a sound of sheer disappointment escapes from your mouth as you collapse back on your seat.

“jungkook, i hate you!”

“well right now i hate myself too!” he cries out in frustration. “i didn’t have the time to buy more, okay?”

“and there’s not one in your wallet?”

“babe, are you serious?!”

“what?!”

somehow, his hands still expertly swivels the steering wheel as the car meets a curve.

but he feels dizzy. the ghost of your touch is still there, a promise of carnal pleasure unfulfilled.

“stop the car,” you say out of the blue, rather calmly, and that terrifies the shit out of him.

he swallows the lump in his throat, eyes switching between you and the road in panic. “huh?”

“i said stop the car, i’m stepping out.”

“babe, come on,” he moans, ruined and tormented. he reaches for your hand but you scoot further away from him, and he ignores the way his heart drops to his stomach as he kneads your exposed thigh instead. “please, don’t be like this. i just got home.”

“jungkook! if you don’t let me get off this car right now, i swear!”

the urgency embedded in your threatening voice leaves your boyfriend with no choice but to pull over to the side of the street as soon as he gets the chance.

he carries on to unbuckle his seatbelt.

“baby, stop being stu-”

he tries to reach for you, but he is rudely ignored as you hop off the car and slam the door shut on his face.

“…bborn…”

he blinks.

he inhales. he exhales.

and then he buries his face in his hands to scream… as quietly as possible.

“what the fuck was in that margarita?!”

—

jungkook steps out of the car worried sick about you. now wearing a black bucket hat, his head whips in different directions in search for the familiar shape of your body, your hair, your shirt that is his, anything.

his arm rests on top of the car door, the other on the roof, fingers drumming on it anxiously as he chews on his bottom lip.

there are mostly restaurants here, it seems. some are already closed, some are still lights on. not far away, he hears a karaoke place bursting with music and laughter. he looks up and he finds that the night sky remains barren of stars; there’s no guidance from the heavens that will lead him to you.

except for the sound of your sweet voice calling out his name.

he turns around, and he knows it’s going to sound extremely silly, but damn, you make his life feel like a movie— because you’re jogging towards him, and the universe begins moving in slow motion. perhaps it is to prevent him from falling on his knees in relief, because he genuinely thought that you already went home on your own like the stubborn brat that you are.

“____, where did you go?! you can’t just run off like that! seriously, that was not nice!”

“i forgot my wallet!” you squeal as you halt infront of him, slapping your forehead as a way to scold yourself. “i found a hotteok cart!”

his anger quickly dissipitates. he scans your face, mouth agape in bewilderment.

you, screaming at him to stop the car because there was a sighting of your favorite snack? makes sense.

he dishes out the wallet from his pocket. “wha- i thought you… you didn’t have money?”

you shake your head to answer his question.

“then how are you already eating?”

you take another bite from the hot hotteok you’re holding in a paper cup, and then you shrug.

“i was already eating when i realized it,” you point at yourself, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “so he let me run back here. does it look like this face would steal?”

“you’re impossible!” he bursts out laughing, the unique sound of his joy harmonizing with the mundane noises of the city.

he is thoroughly amused and in awe of your undeniable charm never failing to work its magic. if you just gave it a shot, you might be even better at him at his job.

you’re pliant as he captures your wrist, tugging you away with him so he can lock the car.

“i bought three, by the way.” you note as the two of you start walking, with you clinging to his side. “the last three then mister can go home.”

you put the hotteok near his mouth, and he pauses to take a big bite. “have you even had dinner?”

“just the four margaritas- they were yummy! or was it five?”

he clicks his tongue in disappointment, but he doesn’t get to say anything more about it because you’ve reached the hotteok cart, and he’s already handing the vendor the money.

“thank you!” he bows his head politely as he accepts the remaining two you mentioned earlier, handing them over to you.

“no, this is yours.” you speak with tenderness, giving back one of the cups to him. “then we’ll split the third one. it’s really good!”

the vendor secretly watches the interaction with a fond smile as he packs up to finally, finally end his long day working at the busy streets of seoul.

—

you’re sat together on the hood of jungkook’s car as you share a midnight snack. with caring hands, you rip the hotteok apart in perfect halves, offering the other to your lover. he accepts it in between his teeth.

“do you want drums as your christmas gift?”

“love,” you search for the words to say as you chew the food in your mouth. “i can barely fit in my apartment. where am i going to put a drum set…? not to mention that i can’t even cry without my neighbor hearing it.”

his shoulders drop in dejection, and you rub your boyfriend’s back in an attempt to comfort him.

“you must really want to see me play, don’t you?”

“i’m dying to,” he says in pure jungkook fashion, tone dramatic and thick with an accent that is entirely his. “i can’t believe there were regulars who saw you every night, while i, your boyfriend, didn’t even see you once…! even that fucking bartender… this- this can’t be right! do you think this makes sense? no, right?”

“aw, my baby,” you coo at him, jutting out your bottom lip as you tenderly cup his face.

“i don’t trust him, by the way,” he scoffs. “as much as possible, stay away from him when you visit, alright…? if i see him touching you one more time, i don’t know what i’ll end up doing to him.”

“i don’t like him either,” you giggle. “so that’s easy.”

he stares at your bloodshot eyes. damn it, you haven’t sobered up.

“____, i’m serious. he’s weird. i’m worried about you but i can’t always be here to protect you.”

you blink at him innocently. “i am too! serious!”

“you promise me?”

“i promise!”

he nods, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he gets lost in the sea of his own thoughts. “i should talk to your friends about this, too. is that okay?”

“if that will ease your mind,” you half-smile, heart fluttering in your chest because you feel so cherished.

comfortable silence follows suit.

the hotteok is still soft and warm and sweet. if your love had to be delivered to his doorstep, it would in the form of your favorite food.

he sighs to gain more of your sympathy, basking in the attention he’s receiving from you. he missed this. he missed you. he sounds like a broken record, but it’s true.

“come ooon, don’t be sad! i’ll make it up to you! but it’s a surprise!”

“surprise?” he eyes you with suspicion. “what surprise?”

“just trust me, alright?”

you poke his cheek where his dimples are, and you witness them pop out as he copies your contagious smile.

“can i make a guess?”

“nope!”

you fit the remaining piece of your hotteok in your mouth, jumping off the hood of the car. you stand before him as you wipe your hands clean with a small paper napkin.

“don’t you dare. if you guess it right then my plans will be ruined!”

—

you’re back on the passenger seat to travel the remaining twenty-seven minutes to your apartment.

jungkook melts into the tenderness of your touch as he drives. you’re tracing the toned muscles of his arms; stroking his hair, his face, and the smell of the sticky brown sugar from the hotteok still lingers on your skin.

“when are you going to start getting tattoos?” you wonder out loud as he intertwines your fingers together on top of his thigh. “i think you’d look so pretty.”

“i’m planning on it.”

his heart skips a beat at the thought of you remembering that he wants his skin artfully inked as you absentmindedly distracted yourself with it.

he licks his lips, smiling as he looks over at you. “you really think so? pretty?”

“hm, hot, too,” you stick your tongue out playfully, and he snorts out a laugh. “but as long as you’re happy, then nothing else matters.”

“of course- wait, yah! you still need to eat dinner.” he reminds you once he recognizes the path you’re taking.

a grocery store is not more than a kilometer away, if his memory serves him right.

“what do you want? i don’t mind cooking.”

“for you to fuck me, that’s what i want. you won’t mind that, too?”

oh my fucking god.

he wishes you were passed out drunk instead so he wouldn’t have to suffer this battle between self-control and his insatiable appetite for you.

“baby, aren’t you still sore from this morning?”

“a little,” he notices you squeezing your thighs together from his peripheral, and along with it, the bruises on your knees from when you worshipped his body last night. “but i want you.”

your giggles in reaction to him frustratedly running his fingers through his hair seems to only fuel the dirty thoughts in his head. he uncomfortably shifts in his seat to adjust himself.

“can you just bring it up when we get near your house? you’re killing me over here!”

“but why? i’m having fun.” you bring your tangled hands over to your side, peppering the back of his hand with innocent kisses. “i love you. you’re so cute.”

“are you… are you seriously calling me cute after what you just asked me to fuck you?”

his disbelief is challenged by your amusement.

“why not? being one dimensional? boring. being different things all at once? sexy.”

jungkook doesn’t need to see you play the drums to know that you are the only one capable of making his heart beat like this. to feel it pounding, it turns out there’s another way besides performing, he can just be alone with you. a different type of addictive exhilaration. he isn’t at the top of the world; he free falls as it revolves around you.

you always know the right words to say, because right now, he is preening. he’s wearing a big smile, the kind that looks like he’s laughing, but he’s not— almost. the kind that reaches his eyes, shapes them into little crescent moons.

how did he get so lucky?

rehearsals in the morning be damned, he will be fucking you good all night.

you make a noise of confusion when the car swerves into the trees at the side of the road.

“what are we doing here?”

jungkook only spares you a glance. “get in the backseat, baby.”

—

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—

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

Bloodlove

AN: I'm a JJAM hater but, when I saw these clips of HyunSung...I couldn't help myself. I have a million other fics I'm working on but, HyunSung will always take priority lol. Also, I do want to make more banners for my fics but, I couldn't find many pictures of the two of them with (fake) blood smeared on their faces so, we're going to have to settle for the classic three photos for this one. Can't believe it's taken me this long to post something HyunSung focused.

Synopsis: The two strange men that you've developed a bit of an...odd relationship with decide to pay you another visit. They're especially famished tonight.

General tags and warnings: Hwang Hyunjin x Han Jisung x Fem! Reader, Hyunjin and Jisung are vampires, lots of blood and biting involved, they initially enter Reader's home without her consent, acquaintances to potential lovers lol?, they're all in love/infatuated with each other your honour and not much plot.

Smut tags and warnings: dubcon if you squint since Reader does all of this after HyunSung drink a substantial amount of her blood and there's one joke about compulsion but, it's not brought up after that and there's no actual compelling that happens, lots of blood and kissing with blood, lots of biting, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), unintentional temperature play because they're undead, breast and nipple play (f. receiving), HyunSung being able to smell Reader's arousal, pussy sniffing once (f. receiving), dirty talk, Reader getting teary eyed, mxm but it's only kissing in this but, it's implied HyunSung have done more, petnames, manhandling (they have super strength because, y'know, vampires), piv sex without a condom, dirty talk, clawing, creampies, lots of cum, cumplay of sorts, Reader realises in real time she might have a creampie kink, unrealistic sex because they're vampires lol, marking, bruising, brief mentions of masturbation and implied aftercare.

Word count: 5.8k.

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

The first thing you register is your heart thundering in your ribcage the moment you jolt out of your sleep. Bringing your shaky hand to your chest, you're not sure what startled you awake: the storm raging outside your bedroom window or whatever nightmare you were experiencing that's already rapidly fading from your memory. Your mind is having difficulty catching up to the anxiety still fresh in your veins. Remnants of sleep making everything hazy and disorientated at the edges. 

“Bad dream?” 

You nearly jump out of your skin when you finally notice the two figures who have seemingly made themselves at home on your windowsill. You nearly scream out of reflex but, your brain boots up in time to inform you that your home isn't being invaded and the two men lounging in your bedroom are not strangers. Well, they are but, not really. Half-strangers? Acquaintances? You're not sure what you'd categorise your relationship as but, it's somewhere between more than acquaintances but, definitely less than friends. 

“What are you two doing here?” You hiss, struggling to make them out in your dark room with the moon and city lights being of little help. Shooting them a deeply unamused glare while you attempt to calm your racing heart and lessen the anxiety still circulating in your system. 

“What, we can't pay our favourite girl a visit?” asks the shorter man. It may be dark but, you can see Jisung's grin clear as day. You decidedly ignore the implications of his phrasing of ‘favourite girl’ because you're already dealing with far too much right now and you doubt it's even 4 a.m. 

“I doubt you're here for just a visit,” you mumble under your breath, reaching for the water bottle you keep on your nightstand. Taking a generous sip that significantly helps you feel better and less like a mess of stress and dehydration. 

“Are you complaining? That'd be a first,” the taller man chimes in, amusement colouring his voice and heating your blood in a way you're not sure you'll ever be ready to think too much about. The awful part is, he's not wrong. Whatever this…arrangement the three of you have has gone on without any hitches for months now. You're not sure why you let them slip into your apartment and drink from you. In the few instances that you've really sat with yourself and attempted to find out why, nothing that feels valid has come up. Pity? Who pities vampires of all people? A sense of duty? What duty should you feel to strangers? A gesture of kindness? You'd like to think you're a decent person but, this is far beyond the scope of simple generosity. 

So, what is it? 

“I'm complaining because you two snuck into my room while I was asleep and scared the shit out of me. Usually you do this while I'm, you know, awake and with some kind of head's up,” you respond, setting your bottle back down and looking at the two men. Well, they're far beyond ordinary men but, the word ‘vampire’ still feels so foreign on your tongue and even in your thoughts. The two of them have always seemed deeply connected to each other from the moment they approached you that fateful Friday night. Moving towards you like a well-oiled machine, their steps in time with one another. 

“Sorry,” at least Hyunjin has the decency to sound half-sincere but, the hunger in his eyes betrays him, “We're just starving and it's been a month,” is the explanation he offers as though you three haven't been doing this for months now. What an absurd turn your life has taken. If you ever found the courage to tell Minho and Seungmin about this, you're certain your best friends would think you'd watched the Twilight movies one too many times and have certifiably lost your mind. They wouldn't be entirely wrong either. 

Shoving your heavy blanket to the side, you expose your body for them to ogle thoroughly. You don't have to look up at them to know they're burning holes into you right now. The excitement from them is palpable. It rolls off of them in waves. You still haven't quite managed to not feel on edge after all this time but, it's not fear or dread that churns in the pit of your stomach. 

“Well, I'm ready. Have it,” is all you say, keeping your tone as neutral as possible. You're sure the two of them would never harm you but, you've made it a habit to keep these…sessions as clinical as possible. Holding them at a safe distance. Which, frankly, sounds insane since they regularly invade your personal space to drink your blood. Maybe you have lost it and this is all a months long hallucination. 

Jisung startles you out of your thoughts by placing a cool hand on your thigh. Goosebumps erupt on your skin instantaneously and you resist the impulse to shudder when his molten eyes find yours, “I'm just gonna move you a little. Make both of us a little more comfortable,” and just like that you find yourself tugged to the edge of your bed as though you were the same weight as a feather. His display of strength prompts you to claw at your sheets briefly. The first time he did this, you thought it was all a ploy to get you into bed but, true to his word, he really was only interested in your blood. You tried not to let your disappointment show at the time. Now, as his fingers ghost over your thighs and he kneels between them, dragging his nose along your inner thigh, it's still so incredibly hard not to let your thoughts wander. 

Thankfully, you've grown accustomed to the pain so, you only flinch minimally when he sinks his fangs into your skin. The groan that drags itself out of the depths of his chest goes decidedly ignored by you. Hyunjin slinks his way behind you, long fingers gently tilting your head to the side for easier access. His approach is what you'd been expecting the first time. The classic vampire. In the glimpses you've gotten of the two, Hyunjin does seem like more of the idea of a vampire you've been fed since you were eleven. His hair tickles the parts of your skin it touches, providing some reprieve from the pinch his bite brings. 

You've always wondered why they do this together. Why not have their own individual moment with you? To feed from you? Maybe this just helps them save time. Maybe it's some weird vampire bylaw that you're too human to understand. It's such an odd sensation feeling your blood leave your body this way. Even now, it's dizzying and fogs up your brain. It doesn't help that they seem especially hungry tonight so, they're drinking much faster than you've grown used to. It's not unpleasant, though. Just…different. Still a touch unfamiliar. 

Surprisingly, Jisung is the first one to stop. He isn't exactly the best at showing restraint.  The handful of times Hyunjin has had to butt in by either forcibly telling him to stop or dragging him by his hair off of you speak for themselves. So, you're left a little confused when he unlatches himself from your thigh of his own freewill and looks up at you. Something horrible, animalistic and wanton simmers in the pit of your stomach when you notice the fresh blood generously smeared across his lips and parts of his cheeks. Your blood is all over his handsome face while he's staring at you from between your thighs. It was easier before. When he'd just drink your blood, heal you with his saliva and disappear with Hyunjin into the night. Having him here, looking like this is far more than you can take.  

“I can smell you, you know,” he says, a lazy drawl in his voice and you notice the drop in octave immediately. His eyes that are usually alight with hunger look different. They burn with something else entirely. A different kind of hunger that makes your heart leap into your throat and your pussy pulse. 

“Wh-What?” comes your intelligent reply, “Smell me?” you'd like to think you're trying your best with the loop you've been thrown for. 

Hyunjin chooses then to stop feeding off of you. This time, you fail spectacularly at shoving down the shudder that runs down your spine when his cool breath hits the shell of the ear. The smell of your blood drifting to your nostrils, invading your senses, “He means he can smell how aroused you are,” he whispers into your ear as if Jisung can't hear him perfectly well from where he's kneeling. 

His words shatter your brain for a few seconds. All you can do is blink while your brain attempts to make sense of what they've both said. The lack of blood isn't helping. True to fiction, you know their smelling abilities are far beyond that of any human. Sparse conversation over the time you've been doing this has clued you in enough but, it didn't occur to you that that particular ability could be used beyond smelling blood. 

“We don't want to scare you,” Hyunjin mutters gently, large hands ghosting over your waist but, not providing you with the relief of actually touching you. You wonder, briefly, whether compulsion is one of their powers too because the lull in his voice causes your lids to droop and your stomach to twist in a way that isn't wholly unpleasant. “It's just– we– you– you're something else,” he pauses for a second and you're not sure if it's to collect himself or something else entirely, “We haven't felt this way about someone in decades.” The pure yearning in his tone throws you completely. Your eyes widening as you try and process everything he's said while your blood trickles out of you. 

“We?” you ask in only what can be described as a combination of awe and confusion, glancing at the man between your thighs whose scorching gaze hasn't left you and Hyunjin for a second. Your blood is still all over his face. 

“Yes,” Jisung answers immediately and you've never heard one word carry so much weight, “Why do you think we only come to you? Why we only drink from you?” 

You thought the whole them being vampires and drinking from you thing was a lot but, this is a whole different league. Hyunjin allows himself to gently lay his hand on you in what you can only assume is a gesture meant to ease your nerves but, it does the complete opposite. “I didn't know you two only fed off of me,” you whisper, trying your best to gather your bearings. Fiddling with your sheets and avoiding looking at either of them in the hopes that you don't say or do something incredibly stupid. Well, more stupid. 

“I'm– I need to know what you two want from you,” you whisper, afraid that if you speak any louder that you'll shatter the delicate bubble the three of you are in. 

“We just want you,” Jisung answers without a second thought and you wonder just how many times the two of them have spoken about this. “In whatever way you'll let us have you,” Hyunjin adds just as quickly but, no less passionately. His grip on you tightening but, his loosens it before you can even blink. 

You blink harshly. Stars dancing behind your eyelids. You really are about to do something very, very dumb, aren't you? 

“I don't know what I want from this. From you two but, I–I um think I want to see where this goes. So, o–okay,” you whisper, still not looking at either of them. Your heart races when Hyunjin carefully grasps your face so, you have no choice but, to look at him. The hunger and lust you somewhat expected to be present in his eyes are there but, there's a quiet softness in them too that's making it really difficult for you to breathe, “We'll take it slow, okay?” He assures you, leaning down and giving you ample time to tell him no or push him away but, you don't. Because you want this. You want him. You want Jisung. You want them. 

Surprising perhaps everyone in the room, you close the distance between the two of you. You kiss him clumsily and are a little taken aback to taste your blood on his lips but, it's not off-putting. In fact, you might even like it a little. Hyunjin doesn't give you much time to ponder on that thought because he's kissing you back with so much enthusiasm, large hands making themselves at home on your waist, palming every inch of you he can. You gasp into his mouth when you feel Jisung licking at his bite marks, closing them up. Hyunjin's tongue snakes its way into your mouth just as Jisung litters your inner thigh with sticky, bloodied kisses. 

“Is it okay if I taste you?” He asks and you're not sure you could answer him properly even without Hyunjin's seeming determination not to let your mouth free. Whether it's the lack of oxygen and blood going to your brain, you feel just the slightest bit delirious and with delirium apparently comes confidence. Your hand finds the hem of your sleeping gown easily and you tug it up your thighs haphazardly, exposing as much of your slick folds to him as you can and hoping he takes the very obvious green light. 

Fortunately for both of you, Jisung is not an idiot and he snatches the invitation as readily as you offer it. Hyunjin let's you have a moment to breathe just as Jisung shoves himself impossibly close to you, acting as though there's no other place he'd rather be than with his head between your thighs and his hands burning imprints into them. “You smell so good,” Hyunjin groans behind you, pressing bloody kisses into your neck and lapping up the blood that's trickled out of you and dried on your skin. Large hands softly kneading your tits over your gown, drinking in every reaction you offer to both of them. 

“She smells even better here,” Jisung comments before pressing his nose into your pussy and inhaling deeply. Embarrassment and desire heat your face and make your walls clench in equal parts. “Ji–Jisung,” you hiss but, it sounds more like a whimper than anything else. He doesn't respond but, you feel him smirk against you. Watching you like a hawk as he takes his first taste of you, his tongue dragging itself from your entrance to your clit. His firm grasp keeps you from bucking your hips into his face. “I bet you taste wonderful, sweetheart,” Hyunjin drawls against your skin, dragging his fangs along your neck while he tugs your gown down to let your tits bounce free. He laughs breathlessly into your neck when Jisung hums in conformation. “Maybe I'll get to taste you later too,” he whispers and you don't have much time to dwell on the thought because Jisung starts lapping at your clit with unabashed enthusiasm. 

Hyunjin keeps you thoroughly in his grasp when your body attempts to jolt from the flurry of sensations its hit with. You couldn't stop the drawn out moans and curses that fall from your lips even if you wanted to. Your eyes flutter and wetness further smears Jisung's face with every kiss and lick. Hyunjin, for his part, has grown thoroughly infatuated with your tits. Kneading them in his massive hands and groaning into your skin every time he toys with your nipples to gauge what you like the best. You think he nearly bites you again when he discovers a drag of his thumbs is all it takes for you to mewl in his hold and seek out his mouth. He readily kisses you. Pouring what you can only imagine is months worth of frustration and desire into this kiss. You can practically taste it. Well, that and your blood. 

He steadies you when Jisung presses two fingers against your dripping entrance. You can feel the way he watches you slowly swallow them. They slip in easily given how beyond wet you are and the strained ‘fuck’ that he whispers makes you grip him tighter. They feel…odd. Not uncomfortable or unwelcome but, just different from what you're used to. Their coolness is foreign but, Jisung uses that to his advantage given how scorching your walls are. “Fuck,” he moans against your pussy, giving your clit a second to breathe, “How is everything about you so good? You taste good, you feel even better,” he mutters, a bit fucked out before knocking the wind out of you by sucking on you while dragging his cold fingers along your sensitive walls. 

“Hyun-Hyunjin,” you cry into his mouth, grasping his forearm for…what? You don't know but it helps. “I've got you, my angel,” he replies without a second thought, nipping at your bottom lip while his hands and Jisung's mouth and fingers force you closer to an edge you hadn't even realised you were approaching. 

When did your other hand find its way into Jisung's hair? 

The thought evaporates from your mind the moment Jisung's fingers find the spot inside of that causes your vision to dance and your thighs to clamp around his head. Not that he minds even the slightest bit. He seems more determined with etching the taste of your pussy into his taste buds and bringing you to the brink of insanity with his fingers. Hyunjin greedily swallows all of the noises the two of them pluck from you. Only stopping when you have to separate for air, not that his mouth leaves you. Immediately attaching itself to every part of your shoulder he can reach. Heavy eyes watching the way your tits fill his hands and the way your back bows when he pinches your nipples a touch too harshly. 

“Hyun–Ji–I'm so–I think–” your tongue feels like it weighs a million kilograms all of a sudden and, it's really, really hard to speak or think beyond the two men touching and tasting you. “It's okay, beloved,” Hyunjin hushes against your neck, “You want to let go for us, don't you?” you're not sure what sounds more tempting: his suggestion or his voice. “You want to cum for us, right?” He continues, giving your tits an especially harsh squeeze and rutting his hard cock against your lower back, “Cum all over Sungie’s face while I play with your beautiful tits, huh?” 

Something within you snaps. Whether it's your sanity or the proverbial knot in the pit of your stomach, you're not sure but, you become undone within an instant. You don't think you've ever cum this hard in your life. Everything sounds distant and feels hazy but, you do feel Hyunjin and Jisung keeping you from totally crumpling onto your bed. Vaguely, you make out one of them saying ‘pretty’ and what you assume is another one of them saying ‘so hot.’ You're not sure how long it takes for you to come back to yourself but, eventually, you do. Blinking open bleary eyes to find Jisung staring at you with a mess of your wetness and blood all over the lower half of his face. It's easily the hottest image you've ever seen in your life and you hope you never forget it. 

“You okay?” Hyunjin asks behind you, large hands having drifted from your tits to soothing run along your waist while you attempt to steady your breathing and stop your thighs from shaking. “Ye-Yeah,” you reply, cringing a little at the hoarseness in your voice, “That was just um a lot and I need a–a second but, I'm good,” you finish, giving them a weak smile that you hope conveys that you are really okay despite the way your thighs quiver. 

“Thank fuck. I was worried we might have gone too far,” Jisung pipes up for the first time in what feels like ages. The depth of his voice makes your stomach drop and you bite back a whimper at the way your sensitive pussy reacts to him. Could your body give you a second? You just came, Jesus Christ. 

“Come here.” 

The words shake you out of your thoughts and you think he's talking to you but, before you can blink he's on his feet and dragging Hyunjin into a mess of spit and tongue by his hair. All you can do is watch the two of them with your mouth parted and your fingers attempting to find leverage in your sheets. You were so wrong. This is easily the hottest image you've ever seen in your fucking life. Your clit throbs and walls clench when Jisung pulls away and pins you down with a look that's far too knowing and smug for your liking. “What? Don't look at me like that,” he has the nerve to sound amused while you're sitting here already wound up. Again. “I just wanted Jinnie to have a taste of your sweet pussy, that's all,” he licks his upper lip for good measure and you're pretty sure you've never wanted to throttle someone more than right now.

“He wasn't wrong,” Hyunjin groans into your ear, his hands gripping your hips fiercely, pressing you against him and making you feel the outline of his cock, “You taste…divine,” the reverence in his voice makes goosebumps arise on your skin and you honestly think you might die if you don't have the two of them right now. 

“Please, please I want–I need to feel both of you. It hurts. I feel so empty and I'm so wet–”

Hyunjin and Jisung seemingly have no reservations about taking the next step in whatever the three of you have because you're blinking up at them within a flash, both of their eyes flashing with intent and want so visceral that your heart leaps in your chest. Hyunjin is the first to move. Positioning himself between your thighs and descending on your mouth immediately. “You have no idea how long we've been waiting for this,” he mutters before pulling away from you. You're about to complain but, he discards your gown faster than you can process. Leaving you totally exposed to the two of you.

“You're so beautiful,” Jisung whispers from somewhere above you and, your eyes catch his as he lounges against your headboard. He shoots you a lazy smile and it does terrible things to your heart. Before you can dwell too much about why he's sitting there you hear rustling and focus your attention back on Hyunjin. 

You're thoroughly unprepared for the sight of a shirtless Hyunjin impatiently tugging his pants and boxers down his slender hips. Seeing him without a shirt is earth shattering in its own right but, watching the way his hand wraps around his cock makes your bedroom spin a little. He has the audacity to shoot you a little grin like his cock isn't inches away from your weeping entrance and you don't hear Jisung's own staggered breathing behind you. His eyes never leave your face. Even as he shuffles closer to you. Even when his hands gently rest against your thighs. Even when his cock rests on your pussy. 

“Is this okay?” He whispers, dragging his cock along your slit and your body jolts totally without your consent when his tip brushes against your clit. “Ah, yes. Yes. Hyunjin please just–” you words are halted by a gasp when he slowly starts to push into you. You shouldn't be shocked at this point but, he's colder than you expect. And longer. And thicker. You can barely make out his face in the haze you're in and all you can do is let your mouth hang open when he finally bottoms out. His grip on your thighs tightens and his hand finds a home in the hollow of your throat while he gives you a bit to adjust to stretch. 

Without much thought, your hands find his broad back and he must read that as some sort of sign because he's pulling out before snapping back inside of you after that. The air is punched out of your lungs but, he continues. Gradually finding a pace that has your toes curling and your nails digging into the cool skin of his back. “You can claw at me all you want,” he whispers in your ear. Chuckling at the way your pussy tightens around him and your fingers follow his suggestion without your prompting. “I'm not one of those mortals,” he continues, “I can take it.” 

And so you do. Basking in the freedom of letting him know just how much you're enjoying being fucked on his cock and his hands more than likely leaving your thighs bruised. The thought of covered in their marks makes your pussy clench and you can't help but, wish they were both touching you right now. 

Hyunjin kisses down your neck until he reaches one of your tits. Covering them in kisses and licks. Grazing them with his fangs and delighting in the way you shudder underneath him. You're a woman on a mission, though. Turning your head until you find Jisung's hooded eyes and his hand around his cock. The sight makes your lips part and even more of your wetness gush onto Hyunjin's cock. 

“Ji–Jisung,” you whine trying your best to look at his handsome face but, it's incredibly challenging when his pretty cock is right there. “Want you too ah,” you manage to gasp out just as Hyunjin sinks his fangs into your tit, sipping on your blood while his pace increases and the obscene sounds of him fucking you echo through your bedroom. Jisung doesn't respond at first. Perhaps needing a second. Then, before you can blink, he's leaning down and devouring you whole with his mouth. Swallowing all of your mewls and whimpers and moans as though he needs them to live. 

“You're killing me here, baby,” he groans against your lips when he finally remembers you need air, “I want nothing more than to fuck you with Jinnie but, we don't know if you'll be able to take it. Maybe next time, okay?” He soothes, toying with your hair and giving you a smile that's filled with promise. You want to tell him you can. You can more than take both of them right now but, you can barely think coherently let alone speak so, all you do is pout and nod in resignation. “Don't give me that look,” he laughs, kissing you once again, “I'll make love to you as soon as Jinnie is done.” 

You may not be experiencing them at the same time but, you can live with them both…making love to you as Jisung put it. He leaves you with one more kiss, letting you focus on the other vampire currently, painstakingly slowly drinking from your tit while he snaps his hips into you. You never thought you'd want them to drink from you so badly but, watching the way Hyunjin revels in your taste, you can't help the fire it fans in the very core of your being. 

“Hyunjin,” you moan and that's all it takes for him to lick his way into your mouth and fold you further into your mattress. You're certain you'll feel the ache in your thighs tomorrow but, you couldn't care less. “You're gonna make me cum,” he moans into your mouth, snapping his hips faster and faster into you while hiz grip on you remains steadfast, “Gonna make me fill up this gorgeous, pretty, tight, hot pussy,” he continues, and you feel him throb inside you and you don't think you've ever wanted someone to cum inside you so intensely. 

“I fuck want it,” you respond, your fingers finding their way into his hair, “Want you to cum inside me, Hyu–Jinnie.” And just like that he slams his mouth into yours and holds you in place while he fills you with his cum as promised. It's cold but, not awful. Outside of how hot he sounds whimpering into your mouth, you're struck by the fact that he's still hard and his cum seems unending. Already starting to trickle out of you while he's still cumming. The realisation causes you to cling to him tighter and your walls to clench around him, milking him for as much as he'll give you. Fuck. 

Eventually, it does stop and he kisses you much gentler now. Even pressing playful kisses along your cheeks and your nose. “You're so pretty,” he sighs dreamily like you hung the moon in the sky just for them. He gives you one last kiss before leaning back and pulling out of you. You knew he was still hard but, seeing it with your own two eyes is a whole different matter. All you can do is blink in astonishment and watch it bob, covered in a mixture of your combined fluids. “It's a vampire perk,” is his explanation and you can tell he and Jisung are trying really hard not to laugh at your shock. 

“It's definitely one of the fun parts,” Jisung adds while tugging off his shirt. You're not sure where or when his pants disappeared but, you're not complaining. “So can you guys like just…cum and stay hard all time?” You ask looking between the two for some sort of sense to be found in all of this. “Not all the time,” Hyunjin replies, making himself at home at the foot of your bed. It's a little hard to focus on what he's saying when he's naked and posed like a Greek god but, you persevere, “But vampires have significantly better stamina than humans. It takes a lot to really wear us out,” he finishes, gesturing vaguely to his still very hard cock for emphasis. 

Before you can think to ask how they get hard to begin with since you don't think they have blood and what exactly their cum consists of, Jisung invades your personal space. His kisses are needy and desperate. His hands practically shake from how much he wants you and, if you're being honest, your ego is going to be through the roof after tonight. “Waited for this for so long,” he mutters into your mouth, positioning himself between your stained thighs. The mixture of Hyunjin's cum and your own wetness provide Jisung with more than enough to sink into you with ease. He's not as big as Hyunjin but, your eyes flutter and toes curl all the same. 

“Fuck, you're so perfect,” he grits out into the hollow of your throat before starting to move. Jisung seems to read you pretty well because his pace isn't slow or gentle and, for that, you're grateful. He fucks you thoroughly, making sure you feel every part of him while his hands explore every expanse of your body they can. Much like Hyunjin, he's especially into your tits. Savoring every gasp and arch of your back he can coax out of you. A garbled mess of his name and a curse fall from your lips when he sinks his fangs into your other breast. Unlike Hyunjin, Jisung doesn't drink slowly. He's greedy. Bloodthirsty. Blood smearing across his mouth while his pace picks up considerably. 

Tears spring to the corner of your eyes when he drags his thumb along your swollen clit. His grasp on your hip keeps you firmly in place. Forcing you to feel every sensation and, it hits you all at once just how close you've been. 

“Ji– oh my god– Jisung,” you cry out, gripping your sheets out of the sheer need to just ground yourself with something. Jisung watches you like a hawk the entire time. Lidded eyes only drifting between your thighs from time to time to watch the way he fucks Hyunjin's cum out of you but, he's more focused on your face. He has to see you when you finally shatter. He has to. 

It's a particular harsh circle he draws with his thumb that finally pushes you over the edge. Thankfully, he lets you catch your breath. Slowing down his pace considerably and slowly fucking you through your climax while he holds your hips. If you weren't on a totally different planet, you'd notice his attempt at soothing you with the circles he rubs into your skin. Still, despite his best efforts to let you come back to yourself, he's a goner the second you blink those teary eyes open and look straight at him. 

A weak whimper is all you can muster when you feel him cum. It honestly doesn't make any sense how hot he is. How hot they both are. You'd gladly give into the unconsciousness you can feel creeping up on you any other time but, right now you're too enamored with watching the way his inky hair sticks to his face and the way his mouth hangs open while he fills you to the point of leakage. Yeah, you've definitely never felt this full before and you're wondering whether the way your pussy flutters at the knowledge is something you even have the energy to unpack tonight. 

He gives you one last kiss before pulling out of you. You're sure you look like a total wreck right now and you can only imagine the state your sheets are in. However, sleep is calling your name and you can already feel yourself starting to drift off. 

“We know you're probably tired but, we need to clean you up, beloved,” Hyunjin says, startling you awake. The apologetic look he gives you is sweet but, you're so exhausted. You doubt you could move even if you wanted to. 

“But ‘m tired,” you mutter, rolling onto your side. 

“We know, baby but, we gotta clean you up and change your sheets,” Jisung chimes in, sounding as apologetic as Hyunjin looks. Before you can argue further, you find yourself in what you quickly realise are Hyunjin's arms. Blinking up at the man while he carries you like you weigh nothing in the direction of your bathroom. 

How does he still manage to look so pretty? 

“I'll help you clean up while Ji changes your sheets,” he says with a smile and you try your hardest to ignore the gymnastics routine your heart is doing. Jisung shoots you an equally as endearing smile over Hyunjin's shoulder before focusing his attention back on trying to clean up the travesty that is your bed at the moment. God, his ass is so cute. 

Allowing yourself to relax in Hyunjin's arms, maybe whatever your new normal is won't be so bad after all.

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Stray Kids Masterlist | Ko-Fi

[allfearstofallto]

Okie so we've had childe meeting scara's wife, but what about scara meeting childe's wife for the first time? If not can we hear more about the first one?

- 🍓

You are so right strawberry!! My dumbass really forgot that I could write the scenario going the other way!!

Scaramouche Meeting Childe's Wife

Yandere Childe! x reader x Yandere(?) Scaramouche

After almost a year of Childe fawning over you, the look of disinterest his coworker gave you was rather refreshing. The man, only a head shorter than Childe and obviously much more frail looking, had a scowl that could kill. You wondered how long it took to get a look that aggressive, but somehow still elegant on his delicate features.

“And this is my lovely wife!” Childe said rather excitedly and the man merely rolled his eyes.

“It's very nice to meet you,” you muttered softly, he didn't have much in the way to say back. Despite the cold of Snezhnaya he was wearing a shirt that barely went down to his elbows, shorts, and sandals. The cold of Snezhnaya wasn't normal, it felt like the air was biting you. You couldn't even leave the house without a few good layers, yet here he was walking through it with ease, “You're not dressed well for the weather.”

Another glare was shot your way, his eyes colder than the snow, “Skip the pleasantries. I'm here because I have to be. Don't pretend you want to speak with me.”

You didn't even dare look at Childe after the man spoke. He was always so quick to anger, especially when it came to you. Childe had very few loyalties in his life, one of them being the Tsaritsa, the other being you. He often told you how easily he could and would turn on anyone else if needed be, and it seemed this coworker was going to be no different.

“Number six,” you could hear that he was forcing the words through gritted teeth, “Perhaps I wasn't clear when I told you that I love my wife more than anything in this world.”

“You were clear. But perhaps I didn't care,” the man was bold, you'd give him that. And despite how rude he was being he still walked further into the home, taking off the large ornate hat he was wearing and letting you finally see how beautiful his silky, indigo hair was.

Childe followed soon after and the two of them went to talk. You could already tell that he wasn't completely friendly with this coworker, out of the many you'd met. You knew more harbingers than the average person did in a lifetime, more than you wanted to as well, but this one was the first one you'd seen be blatantly disrespectful.

But as they sat and chatted amongst themselves about missions and quite honestly, things you didn't understand, your mind still thought about how underdressed the man was. There was no way Childe would let him stay overnight, not with the way he was acting and Snezhnaya only got colder when the sun was down. You didn't want to just send him out into the elements.

“Could you bring me a spare jacket, and maybe some snow pants and boots,” you asked a maid and she was quick to drop what she was doing to scurry off and find things for you. In less than thirty minutes, everything was handed to you, neatly folded.

The meeting only lasted two hours and both Childe and his co-worker were leaving the office. You wondered if he ever got sick of scowling so much. Or if he ever even showed interest in anything at all.

Childe was walking faster than usual, probably trying to quickly get the man out of the house, but you stopped him, holding up the clothes that you'd acquired. The way both men looked at you made your heart sink to your ass, your orange haired husband had so much fury in his eyes from your kindness to the other, but didn't stop you.

“It's…it’s just cold out there,” you muttered, hoping that Childe would understand your explanation. He allowed the other man to take the clothes, a gentle smirk on his face.

Throughout the whole day, you'd never seen him with anything but his usual frown, you weren't even aware that he could smile, “Such thoughtfulness. I see why number eleven is interested in you,”

The door to the home was opened and the man ushered out. He was still holding the items you'd given him, not wearing them, but you didn't want to tell him to stop. Not while Ajax was looking at you so angrily. You didn't want to cause even more misunderstandings.

“Scaramouche,” he said while still walking out the door. You must've made a noise of confusion because he elaborated, “I'm called Scaramouche. And I'll see you soon.”

[for-a-longlongtime]

Guilty Pleasure (6/7) - dbf!Joel Miller x reader

An open bar and Joel in a tailored black outfit mean trouble at your father's garden party. Enough reason to do something you haven't done before.

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only, mdni 🔞🔥 Series warnings (tba): Age gap (reader is 22, Joel is 43), masturbation (f), use of sex toys, oral sex, PiV, anal, hair pulling, dirty talk, getting caught, playful use of 'daddy', outrageous flirting, groping, reference to m/m, Joel's arms should always come with a warning. No outbreak!AU. Word count: 3.4K A/N: I finished writing the final chapter last night and y'all, I'm giddy as fuck. Big BIG thanks to @milla-frenchy and @reallyrallyauthor for your support and reading Part 6 and 7 early to make sure this hits juuust right!

< part 5 | series masterlist | main masterlist

There are too many people in your backyard. Mingling, chatting, networking, kissing ass - all accompanied by canapés that are too fancy, beer that is so painfully hip and micro-brewed that you don’t even want to try it, and outfits intended to seem semi-casual yet also upstage everybody. You hate these gatherings. It’s far from the first time you’ve had to endure them because of your father’s work, though. Even your grandmother liked reminding you when you were little that your grandfather also hosted affairs like this. “It’s important to build connections.”

You don’t care. All you give a damn about tonight - or maybe these days, if you are honest with yourself - was Joel, dressed like a fucking vision. Well fitting black pants, that you suspect are tailored, an ever better fitting black dress shirt which is absolutely tailored, and matching black boots. His hair, usually curly and messy, now looks so sharp that you wonder if he got a haircut this morning; it’s a little shorter, definitely neater, and brushed back a little.

But what your eyes keep going back to the most are the few buttons on his shirt that are undone, showing off his tanned skin and a smattering of freckles you had barely noticed before. It makes you want to trace every single one with your tongue and find out if he would whine when you'd suck a hickey on his neck.

He’s at the bar, waiting for his drink, so you slide in right next to him and bump against his arm. “Hey. Don’t tell me you’re drinking those craft beers?”

“Jesus. No, of course not.” 

The expression on his face is one of instant disgust, and you can’t help but laugh at the candid response. “Wow, didn’t think there’d be someone else who’d hate them as much as I do.”

Joel grumbles something, then gives the bartender a nod as he takes a glass of whiskey from him. When the guy turns to you to take your order, you point at Joel’s glass. “I’ll have whatever he’s having.”

The guy gives you a doubtful look. “Can I see some ID?”

“Yes, you can. It’s called ‘I’m the daughter of the guy who is paying your salary tonight’ and I’m twenty two. Thanks for making that drink now.” You stare at him, daring him to push back against you - you are NOT in the mood for this tonight, especially not in front of Joel. After a few moments, the bartender sighs and shrugs as he turns around, reaching for a glass and some ice. You can feel Joel’s eyes on you, so you turn towards him to give him a similar look. “What? Go ahead. Say it.”

“Say what?”

“That I’m being a brat.”

“Nah.” Joel shakes his head as he sips from his whiskey. “You’d just get off on that. That’s not brattiness - you’re actually being rude,” he says, then wanders off to go talk to someone nearby.

You stare at him with an open mouth, anger starting to creep into you. How the fuck does he dare to just say something like that to you? It hurts, and most of all it gives you a pang of concern that maybe you’ve ruined your chances with him - between this and the way he responded at the pool a few days ago.

“Oh honey, forget about it.” The bartender gives you a look that’s bordering on pity and disdain, his inflection drastically different all of a sudden as he pushes a glass towards you. “That man ain’t into you. Wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole. Why don’t you go find somebody of your own age to play with, hmmm?”

“Why don’t you go fuck yourself?”, you snap at him as you grab the glass and stalk off, his words feeling like claws that have sunk into your skin and won’t let go of you. The burn of the liquor doesn’t help you in the way you’d hoped for, and you find yourself craving something stronger, sweeter. Anything that’ll help you take the edge off.

Anything, in this case, turns out to be 6’3”, blond, looks like a jock and is named… Brady? Brody? Brad. Ben. Blake. Something like that, you can’t remember, but it’s unimportant after having chatted with him for all of ten minutes. What matters is that he’s not a bad kisser, smells fine - not woodsy like Joel unfortunately - and his hands are large as well as eager, pressing you with your back against the solid wood of the pergola. 

If it wouldn’t ruin the mood for him, you probably would’ve laughed at the irony of making out with Blaine - Brandon? Brayden? No. Bruno. Bruce. Barry. Maybe it was Chad after all - right against the pergola that Joel had built over the past couple of days. 

You’d been watching Joel from your bay window, his muscles straining in the sun, while he grunted the way you had memorized from his Instagram videos. And for all of those three days, you’d had several orgasms as you’d watched him. Some of them were thanks to your fingers, others due to toys - varying from the small bullet vibe to the thrusting rabbit vibrator you used for longer sessions. But in the end, all of this had been going on for too long. The flirting, the way you’d feel him look at you regularly, the build up of tension; it had you feral by now, and you just wanted Joel.

You are gonna get him. Soon. Even if it means needing to make him jealous.

“Should we- should we go inside?” Jock guy pauses his kisses, leaning his forehead against yours as he runs his hands down your body, and you can feel him press hot and heavy against your thigh. Fuck, he is hung. “We’ll have some more privacy, and…”

“No, this is fine,” you say quickly, your eyes scanning the crowd of people across the yard. Most of them are unaware of your makeout session, and your glance slides right past them, but suddenly you detect Joel not too far away from where you are. He is staring right at you, gripping his whiskey glass in your hand, and when the guy next to him says something, he only shakes his head, not breaking his glance with you.

“Are you…”

“I said this is fine,” you said sharply to the guy with his hands on your hips. A frown plays over his face, and in a gesture of good will you let your hand brush over the crotch of his pants, tracing the outline of his dick. “Nobody is watching.”

He groans, his lips finding yours again as he pushes himself against your hand. You kiss him back eagerly this time, your arms around him as you turn him just the slightest bit so you can keep your view of Joel. He’s talking to the guy next to him now, a back and forth conversation, but every now and then his eyes slide back to you, and then there’s a nod he gives you that makes you shiver.

Baxter, or Bart, Bobby, or whatever the hell his name is, slips his hand under your skirt, and you moan when his fingertips trace your lacy underwear. You hear how he sucks in air for a second, then his chest almost puffs up in pride at how wet he finds you. Silly guy. He thinks it’s because of him, that his not-too-bad kisses have riled you up so much. Has no damn clue how Joel’s eyes are back on you again.

“Touch me,” you breathe at him, and then hold your breath when he does so. Thick fingers - though not as thick as Joel’s - slipping under the fabric of your panties, pulling them to the side while your eyes remain locked on Joel. You’re trying to merge the touches with your fantasies and the visual of Joel right in front of you, conjuring up his voice. You think of the way he’d tease you with slow, playful strokes over your pussy, each time a little more focused on your clit, making you delirious with need before he’d even consider sliding a finger into your soaked cunt.

But reality seems more than unwilling to blend with your fantasies. While initially the guy seemed to smell fine, you’re now noticing the overwhelming amount of generic fuck boy cologne he’s wearing, the scent unsettling and clearly something Joel would never even wear. He doesn’t smell like a hard day’s work on Joel does and his hands are too smooth, too well taken care of. No roughness from manual labor whatsoever, no finesse to tease you, and definitely not much muscle memory on how to properly get a woman going. 

Instead he’s just clumsy, perhaps because all the blood has rushed to his cock that’s pressing insistently against you. Substitute-Joel’s fingers slide over your folds only one disappointing time, clearly not even attempting to find your clit. He fumbles around as his own breathing grows heavy, then suddenly tries to push two fingers inside of you - without any further prep or even checking if that’s okay with you. 

It abruptly ruins the horny spell you’d been under several minutes ago, and you swear as you grab his hand to stop him, your pussy strongly objecting to his fingers trying to invade you. 

“Hey! Fucking hell,” you hiss, pulling his hand out of your underwear before he can go any further. “You always fingerbang girls without properly prepping them?”

“What? You’re practically dripping on me,” he hisses back as he looks confused. But you’re not about to end up in a discussion about how being wet doesn’t mean he can just shove his fingers inside of you - let alone without any warning.

“Never mind,” you say as you push him away from you, then straighten your clothes as you move away from the pergola. “Let’s just forget this happened, okay? I’ve gotta go say hi to someone.”

“Bitch,” he mutters at you, adjusting his tie and the collar of his shirt. On most days you would’ve gladly torn him a new asshole for that, but you’re just not in the mood to further engage with him. So you start to head into Joel’s direction, but then see that he seems to have moved elsewhere, leaving you to look around in confusion.

You look up when you hear a group of men laugh, and see your father shake some hands as he offers his audience a few more words. Joel is there too, you realize, still with a drink in his hand. Your father gives him a friendly pat on his arm, which is returned with Joel’s signature nod, as he then heads over to some other people who look more than eager to greet him. It makes your skin crawl to see him acting like some kind of politician, eager to make a good impression on everyone, and you quickly turn away from him to look back at Joel - who is now looking straight at you again, without saying anything.

It’s not until you’re back at the bar for another whiskey - you’ve lost track of how many you’ve had - that he shows up next to you, giving you a gentle nudge like you had done to him earlier. “D’you eat anything recently?”, he asks, absentmindedly playing with a coaster on the bar. You can smell the smokey alcohol on his breath, see that the buttons on his shirt are just a little more opened than they were a little while ago, and it just makes you ache for him.

“Shut up, Joel,” you mutter, but he doesn’t follow your suggestion - instead he picks up the whiskey that the bartender slides over to you and takes a sip of it.

“A water for her, please?”, he asks, then covers the liquor glass with his hand when you try to reach for it. “No. You’re done.”

You’re starting to seethe at this point. “Who the fuck you think you are telling me how much I can drink?,” you snap at him. His eyes are infuriatingly calm, but the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips makes it clear he’s a lot more amused than you are.

“Easy, darling. Just looking out for you, okay?” He pushes the glass of ice water on the counter over to you, but you have half a mind to throw it at him.

“Why are you bothering me?”

His eyebrows raise at the word ‘bothering’, but he doesn’t quite respond to it. “Just have some water and food,” he says softly. “You’ll feel like shit if you don’t.” 

“You’re drunk too.”

Joel rolls his eyes at you. “Yeah, well… have to get through this all somehow, don’t I? Been drinking water too, though.” He gives you a look as he takes another sip of whiskey, sighing.

“I don’t get why you’re here.” Your head is spinning a little, but at this point you’re not sure if it’s the booze or proximity to Joel that’s getting to you. The memory of that jock guy’s cologne is far from your mind by now, replaced now by that smell that you crave - the cologne you would recognize anywhere, layered with Joel’s own scent. And it’s driving you mad. “Nobody is making you, unlike they’re doing with me.” 

A smile plays over Joel’s face and he shrugs. “Your mom asked me.”

You can’t help but laugh. “My— what? And that’s why you’re voluntarily subjecting yourself to all of this?” You gesture around the yard, the groups of stuffy people, pretentious bite sized food and music that makes you desperately want to connect your phone to the speaker system. “I’ve been to so many of these. It’s awful, every single time.”

You’re waiting for him to tell you it’s not that bad, or even that you should suck it up. But instead he simply doesn’t respond, and only gives you a raised eyebrow as he has some more whiskey. When he puts the glass down on the bar, you impulsively swipe it and drain it before he can interfere, waiting for an actual retort this time. 

A frown slides onto his face and you grin almost triumphantly at the reaction, pushing the empty glass back towards him, only ice cubes remaining in it now. “I think you like dramatic,” you then blurt out, and see how he blushes slightly, the red flush creeping up from his chest to his neck.

“That what you think?” His eyes flick over you, and you nod, poking him in the chest with your finger. 

“Yeah. You’re… practical. Proper. Maybe kinda boring. You got your routine.” You really should stop talking with all that liquor in your system, but you refuse to admit he was right about you needing to sober up. “Maybe getting close to a midlife crisis? Working your job and then all the reno on your house. Don’t see you chill a whole lot.” 

You run your finger a little down his chest, then place your full hand against his shirt as you lean over to his ear. “I think you want some fun,” you whisper in his ear, barely audible due to the music playing at the party. “Somebody who shakes things up. Brings a little drama and excitement.”

Joel’s eyes are slightly unfocused from the whiskey, just like yours probably are, and you can tell that his guard is down in ways that you haven’t experienced before. “Old, huh? Boring, old, and close to a midlife crisis,” he says after a moment, a smirk on his face as he shakes his head. “But you would shake things up? Why would you bother with an old man?”

“Maybe I’m into that.” You bite your lip as you hesitate for a moment. “The whole DILF thing. And don’t think I haven’t noticed you watching me.”

His smirk widens into an actual grin now as he laughs, looking away at some commotion or a gathering that’s happening at the party. When he looks back at you, his eyes are darker than usual, and you can’t help but feel a shiver run down your spine.

“Little girl. You are in over your head.” His words are measured and quiet as he seems to pick them carefully, his hand now reaching for yours that’s still resting against his chest, and he gently pulls it off his shirt. “ Y’don’t even have a clue of what you’re playing with, darling. What are you gonna do? Rock my world? At your father’s party?”

“I don’t give a shit about his party,” you say sharply, but he shakes his head, interrupting you.

“But that’s the thing. You do,” he murmurs. “Y’couldn’t be more thrilled than to do so here, just to make a scene. Like you did with that guy.”

You feel victorious hearing him confirm that he had been watching you, and together with his ‘little girl’ comment it’s enough to make you soak your panties on the spot. “Were you jealous?”, you ask him challengingly.

He chuckles again, this time getting up from the barstool, and you take in his physique, admiring the way those tailored pants fit around his thighs. “Have some more water. And food,” he tells you, and in the split second you have before he turns away, you make up your mind. Perhaps it’s more like instinct, to do what you’ve been stopping yourself from doing for a while now. 

You grope him. 

Fingers quick as you cup him through his pants, closing around his balls and a part of his dick. It takes effort to bite back a whimper at finally feeling him, thick and hot and heavy in your hand, after all those weeks that you’ve been here and tried to figure out what the right move was. You hold his eyes defiantly, lips parted as you’d like to use your words but they all seem stuck in your throat.

His surprised intake of air when you grab him is immediate, and he looks frazzled as he shakes his head, tugging your hand abruptly away from his cock. “You out of your damn mind?”, he hisses, looking more than just a little flustered. “In front of everyfuckingbody?”

“So come insi—” The words die on your tongue when you suddenly see your mom approaching from a couple of feet behind Joel, unaware of what’s happening between the two of you, but apparently in search of you as she calls your name. Joel and you immediately step away from each other, him leaning against the bar as he seems to need a moment to compose himself. You have even less time to plaster a smile on your face for your mother, so you just nod enthusiastically as she rambles at you about some person’s son you should come meet. Your heart feels like it’s hammering out of your chest as you force yourself to tell her that you’d love to meet them, bringing a smile to your mom’s face.

Just as you’re about to join her to meet this person, your mom pauses at the bar and puts her hand on Joel’s shoulder. “By the way, he said that he could use your help with moving that thing, if you have time? Think he’s inside, couldn’t find you,” she said, and Joel nods while humming something affirmatively. His eyes flit to you for a split second before he looks down at the bar again, and he seems to wait until the two of you have moved away until he goes inside.    

You’re in a mild daze as you follow your mom through the crowd, performing the role you’re expected to play, while the moment that you grabbed Joel plays on repeat in your head. The gasp that spilled from his lips, the way he didn’t say “no” - just “in front of everybody?”, which was an entirely different thing, and frankly… he wasn’t wrong.

You can wait. Just that little bit longer. It’ll be so worth it.

Joel's outfit at the party (as a dress shirt and pants instead of a jumpsuit):

series masterlist | main masterlist

Thank you for reading, commenting or reblogging - I appreciate it so very much 🙏

🚨 Follow @longlongtime-updates + turn on notifs to see when the finale drops later this week!

[pleaktale]

aahh hello! i hope you're well ^^

ive been having a bit of a rough time personally, if you're comfortable with it could you write ekko (or hobie honestly i love them both) just. comforting a reader having issues with self worth/abandonment problems?

if not that's totally okay :0

I love this request so much AHHH!! Thank you anon, I hope this can bring some comfort to you, made it real sweet just in case <3 (chose Ekko because I was so excited to write something about him!!) Word count: 1.1k Warnings: Reader has low self steem, fear of abandonment, questionings Tags: Ekko x best friend!gn!Reader, hurt/comfort, Ekko being the best leader ever, fluff, tw self worth issues, tw death talks?, mention of Y/N once, Reader is described as shorter than Ekko, Reader and Ekko are adults in the Firelights Enjoy ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

Cleaning at the Firelights base was usually your thing, let it be dusting off the shelves of the small library, or organizing once again the plants around the area with the kids, you never really went out for the battles. You couldn’t for a couple of reasons, the number one being Ekko’s protective self scared of anything happening to you.

So you accepted your obligations at the place you now call home. It wasn’t bad, you always chatted with others, helped out with the food, took care of the children when needed, it was pretty much a peaceful life despite the moments you had to help out mending your people from the battles.

But something still gnawed at your soul. A feeling you tried to keep to yourself because it wasn’t really worth discussing it with others, they had bigger problems, right?

That may be true in a certain point of view, but Ekko could see right through you. Being friends for so long can give you that kind of power over the other. So his eyes kept glancing at you while you dusted off the new books he brought from the last patrol, noticing the tension on your shoulders.

“You’re not talkin’ today,” Ekko pointed out, taking a subtle glance at you before turning the page of the book he took to flip out. His voice echoing in the quiet place did have you opening your eyes a little more, pulling you out the train of thoughts you were currently drowning into.

“I thought you were reading,” you reply back, placing the book back on the shelf and turning to face him, his expression of “spill it” making your shoulders slump. “What now? Can’t have a quieter day any more?”

Ekko chuckles, watching you go back to your task, “Not when I’m here.” His boots clank into the hardwood floor as he walks towards you, taking the book from your hands and placing it at the higher shelf which you rolled your eyes at.

“You can’t keep doing this just because I’m the only other adult you’re taller than,” you huff out, which he smirks at before glancing back down at you, hands by his sides but gingerly making their way to yours. “Yes, I can. Now come on, I know the quiet you.”

You sigh, looking down at the book in your hands, a copy of a fairy tale. “It’s just…” your eyes try to avoid his, but a single glance and your courage is out of your lungs. “Sorry, I– I shouldn’t bother you with dumb things.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Ekko called out, pulling you back by the arm gently as you tried to sneak away from him, his caring eyes over you, “who said anything 'bout it being dumb? I asked you, not the other way around.”

You stare at him, big eyes trying to make sense of what he’s saying. Yes, it did make sense, but how can you change your mind in such a short time after thinking like this your whole life?

“Am I enough here, Ekko?” you ask quietly, eyes fluttering down, away from him. The question fell out of your lips like a fishbone being ripped out from your throat, but his warm hands in your arms brought you back to reality.

“You are more than enough, Y/N,” his fingers slid down until they reached your hand, intertwining with your fingers. “Why do you ask that?” he breathed out the question, not really understanding where did you come from with it, you were one of his foundations, being by his side since childhood. Even after everything that happened to your lives.

“It’s just that-” you stop yourself, gathering your thoughts before you become a rambling mess of unresolved feelings. You breathe in, and let it out, just like Ekko taught you before. “I’m just here, you know? Dusting off shelves, tending crops, looking out for the kids and so on… You do so much out there, risking your life, providing for us, what if one day you just-” you take your breath once again, fingers tightening around his. “What I do… Is this really enough?”

Ekko stares at you with wide eyes. How could you not see all that you do like he does?

“You could be at your house, reading books and baking cakes,” he starts, eyes softening as he gives a squeeze back to your hand, “it’d still be more than enough, alright?” You look back up at him, eyes glossy with the tears prickling the corner of your eyes, Ekko was quick to wipe them with his thumb. The act pulls out a small smile from you.

“And there’s not gonna be ‘one day that I just-’, understand?” he continues, your heart clenching inside your ribcage at the mere thought of it happening. Ekko pulls you in, hugging your form, a hand gliding through your hair. “Either it be me leaving, me dying, me turning into a purple rat,” you laugh into his chest at the thought of him as a rat, which he smiled proudly of his accomplishment.

“You’re enough,” he says and you hold in your tears, hugging him tighter, “and I’m not going anywhere.”

You take a shaky breath in, untangling yourself from his arms just enough to see his face, his hands already on the works to get the tear stains out of your face. His mocking pout makes you chortle, “Thank you,” you say it in a small voice, leaning into his palm.

Ekko gives you a quick kiss to the forehead, looking back at you. “I’m just bringin’ you back to reality, what you do here is fundamental for all of us. If you don’t tend the crops, if you don’t look out for the kids, me and the others wouldn’t be able to be patrolling while worrying about those things. You are fundamental.”

More tears stream down your face, but they’re quite happy now, his words bringing comfort to your worrying heart. “If you keep this up I’ll cry until night time and no one’s gonna get dinner,” you joke, a cracking chuckle leaving your lips which Ekko found endearing.

“Okay, enough of emotional words, I want your food,” he jokes back, wiping the remnants of your tears from your face. “But you understand, yeah? We’re on the same page here,” Ekko asks, leaning his forehead to yours and staring at your eyes with raised eyebrows, making you laugh at the view.

“I do.” Ekko makes a small commemoration with one hand, whispering ‘yessss’ to himself. You lean back laughing, thankful for having him in your life.

Maybe Ekko was right. There’s no such thing as not being enough. You are enough for something or someone, maybe even fundamental, you just can’t know sometimes. So you shove Ekko’s words into the depths of your mind, making roots out of it. Taking his hand in yours, you both head to the farm to grab things for dinner.

Maybe that’s enough of a life, too.

your honor I love him (•ᴖ•｡) hope you liked it, until next time <3

© pleaktale

divider credits goes to @/cafekitsune

[opiopal]

My physical head canons for the brothers that no one asked for but I’m sharing anyways because I can’t contain myself cause im a beast of headcanons that need to be released RARARARAR(don’t mind the cringe I’m sleep deprived,)

Lucifer

I like to imagine Lucifer with a slim face and bold cheekbones, he has side burns that look more like small black feathers and ofc he has eyebags, and he’s not as pale, having more of an olive skin tone. I’ve always imagined him with a hooked nose as well, along with more gray hairs. His ears are pointed upwards and are decently long. He still has a slim waist in my brain but also a bolder chest and shoulders. He’s not very muscular but still looks strong for his age(got those baby holdin arms). He has Insanely good posture and I imagine him in his regular outfit as is(though I like to imagine his stupid fuckin shoes are at least a darker brown). He is the third tallest in the household.

Mammon

His face shape is relatively the same in my brain, minus the addition of his ears being pointed, though I always tend to imagine his skin a few shades darker then what it is. his hair has little gold tips like in his demon form. And some of his body hair, like on the back of his hands, arms, and his legs, look like little white feathers. He’s fit like a runner and has very vague abs, like, you wouldn’t process they were there unless he pointed them out. I like to imagine him with a few piercings as well(body piercings not face piercings iykyk;3). His clothes are relatively the same in my brain but he doesnt have feathers in his boots(just keep the feathers as a keychain babe we all know you have a bird thing going on it’s ok). He’s the fourth tallest in the house.

Levi

Levi has as round face in my mind, along with blue freckles that appear like blue scales and visible gills on his neck. His ears are long and thin and constantly drooped(cause bbg is always pathetic no matter what and that’s why I love him💕) His hands and feet have webbing. since he is canonically tall(compared to mammon at least) I like to imagine him being the second tallest and because he is decently tall his body fat does even out, though he has a gut and multiple parts of his body is a lot squishier. I can imagine his clothes give him the appearance of being thinner, but obviously he’s not. And i imagine his clothes to be pretty much the same, maybe looking a little more like he just rolled out of bed though if that makes sense. And like I said he’s the second tallest in the HOL, but sometimes it’s hard to tell cause he slouches.(I can imagine one day he’s getting scolded by Lucifer and he’s told to sit up straight, and after he does so it baffles Lucifer a bit that he has look up at him)

Satan

First things first he does NOT have that jacket, immediately he looks a lot better with only that sweater and his regular pants. Though I can imagine his clothing looking a lot darker, black pants, darker shirt underneath his sweater. His face is pretty similar to Lucifer’s, though his nose is a little smaller and his ears are a little shorter. He’s fit, mostly because I’m sure he burns calories out of pure spite/j. But in all seriousness I feel like he would be a little scrawny from not eating a whole lot by mistake, probably because he was sucked into a book, so he doesn’t mean to forget to grab a snack here and there, he’s just to much of a nerd </3. He’s relatively tall, and him and mammon are the same height.

Asmo

Skin so smooth it would make a modeling agency weep. I like to imagine any makeup he wears is a lot more obvious? Like, you can actually tell he’s wearing makeup, and it’s always flawless, the type of flawless were you can’t help but wonder if he gets up at 4 am to do his makeup. And I could totally see him either using those eyelash oil things to make his lashes grow longer as a part of his 3457 step skincare routine. And I imagine his ears are more elegantly elf like. His hair is still that very soft pink in my mind but the tips fade into a slightly brighter pink, and is also longer. I will never imagine him in his Og outfit because his human realm outfit just fits him so so SO much better both personality wise and just fashion wise period. He definitely works out but just enough to stay healthy and to not develop any muscles. I imagine he is also the same height as mammon, but maybe shorter by half an inch? I also like to imagine he flip flops from looking super fem to being more in between.

Beel

First things first he has a rounder face, period. I also like to imagine him with freckles and his hair is a little scruffier and longer. Not to long but touching his shoulders. He also has shorter chunkier ears that droop downwards. He is the tallest in the household no doubt about it, being taller than Levi by nearly a foot. I imagine his clothes as relatively the same, the fluff on his coat just doesn’t look as matted(I can’t be the only one who thinks that it looks like it needs to be brushed😭). As for his body, he has a gut. And just overall is so much more hunky. I can imagine his body is constantly changing from being more fit to being chunkier, so he has a good handful of stretch marks from his body constantly changing. I like to imagine that demons can burn fat a lot easier than humans, so he finds little to no issue with working away some of the fat that accumulates. But overall he’s mostly rocking a gut and strong arms. Also he’s not as pale in my mind, like he definitely has some melanin.

Belphie

Belphie also has a rounder face, with cow print looking freckles. His ears are droopy like beels and has the same cow print freckles. His hair is longer and he is in a constant state of bedhead. I also don’t think he’s SUPER scrawny, his stomach is pudgy and you can kind of see his ribs. I can also imagine the tips of his fingers have a black gradient and his nails are long and pointy like talons, I like to imagine that it takes some effort to be in their neutral forms, so he doesn’t care a whole lot to fully commit to it. First things first with his clothes: mf does NOT have those pants, nor those knee high laced brown boots. In my head he probably has a pair of sweatpants that have a star pattern, along with some slippers(maybe little cow head slippers cause that’s adorable in my head, and even though I don’t like him a whole lot he still deserves SOME bbg vibes </3). The rest of his clothes are fine to me I guess. But overall he does not care about his looks whatsoever and is always ready for his next nap.

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: provocative dancing, slight Sam x Reader, jealous Dean

Chapter Word Count: 4211

—-MDNI—-

A/N: aaaaahhhhhhhh sorry this one took ages. I suddenly had a bunch of personal things going on so I struggled to find the time. Also this chapter is wild, I’m so sorry for the complete train wreck that it is. I just keep writing without questioning it too much. But yeah same as always pls let me know of any errors as I am the only one who proof reads this shit.

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Please read the below first:

Prologue Chapter 1

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 8 - Part 1

Morning soon rolled around; my alarm waking me from my deep dreamless sleep, eyes wearily blinking open as I stared blankly at the old ceiling. Turning off the repetitive beeping, I flung back the covers and climbed out of bed, pacing to the bathroom to freshen up before heading down to breakfast. I was in desperate need of a laundry day as I was down to my last couple of clean items: a cropped black tank top that said ‘Singers Salvage Yard’ across the front in old cracked and over washed lettering, paired with a short denim skirt with frayed edges. It was an a-line fit a long time ago, but as I got older and my figure changed it just got tighter and shorter. I don’t even know why I still have the thing. Paired with my boots and some comfy socks poking over the top of them, I looked like I should be getting paid to wash cars. I grimaced, knowing full well that Dean was going to make a comment.

Dean.

My mind raced back to last night with his parted lips and black lustful eyes - I couldn’t tell if he wanted to push me against a wall or be at my mercy, it was hard to say. Both sounded spectacular.

I strode into the central study room where the boys did all their research, looking for my flannel when I noticed a figure out of the corner of my eye. Instinct took over and I grabbed the nearest item to me - a lamp from the middle of the table - and held it up like a bat, ready to swing. The man flinched but held up his hands, an apologetic expression on his ruggedly handsome face.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” his voice was monotone despite his peaceful words.

“Who the fuck are you?!”

“CAS!” Suddenly Deans voice rang through the open room and we both spun to see him standing where I had just walked in, Sam following behind.

“Dean I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle her, I wasn’t expecting you to have visitors,” this Cas guy spoke, his tone forever unchanging.

“This is (Y/n), Bobby’s niece. She’s staying with us for a while to help with research,” he explained, before turning to me and giving me a stern look, holding his hand out.

“(Y/n) give me the lamp.”

I did as he asked, placing the cool metal into his palm as he returned it to the table. We shared a look for a second and I was unsure of the meaning behind it - was he mad about me almost bludgeoning his friend? Was it because I was going to use a lamp of all things? Or was it about last night, and the fact I left him hanging? Who knows, but I’m sure I’ll hear about it later. Dean was about to turn away when the monotone voice of Cas spoke up.

“I’m sorry (Y/n), please forgive me for startling you. Although…” he paused, looking me up and down and then almost knowingly between myself and Dean, “I have personally been caught off guard here as well - I was unaware that Dean was involved with someone.”

“Excuse me?” I blinked up at Cas, getting ready to snatch that lamp back. I saw Dean pinch the bridge of his nose and mutter an ‘oh boy’ under his breath.

“You’re sexual endeavours with Dean,” Cas looked at me like I was the one missing something here. Clearly I am. Cas continued, “you’ve been intimate, have you not? This means that you are a couple from what I’ve learned.” Suddenly his eyes went wide and he looked straight at Dean.

“Or is this a pizza man situation?”

“CAS STOP TALKING,” Dean bellowed, embarrassment creeping across his face. I’m assuming he’s not used to that emotion as he was getting very frustrated. I couldn’t help but stand there in disbelief.

“How the actual FUCK do you know about me and Dean after saying that you weren’t aware of me even being here before you arrived?”

“He can smell it,” Dean said quietly, arms now crossed over his chest.

“What?”

“He can smell… me… on you,” as the words left his lips, his eyes locked with mine for a split second sending a jolt down my spine and hair prickling on my skin. I tore my eyes away from him and looked back at Cas.

“So wait, this weirdo can smell that I slept in one of Deans T-shirts last night?”

“You slept in one of his shirts?” Sam asked, piping up for the first time since this conversation started. Dean grinned like the cat that got the cream, embarrassment dissipating for a second.

“Yeah, she did.”

“Hmmm,” Cas mumbled, “No it’s not just that… It’s stronger, like there is part of Dean in her somehow. Or at least there was; not so much anymore.”

My eyes went as wide as the moon and my cheeks felt like they’d been set on fire.

“OH MY GOD,” I hid my face in my hands, wanting the ground to swallow me up. Whilst I tried to hide my entire existence, Dean cackled, leaving Sam confused.

“I don’t get it, what’s going on?” He asked, looking between all three of us. I couldn’t say a word through the white hot embarrassment, which left Dean to explain. He turned and looked Sam dead in the eye.

“You know how much I love pie, Sam,” he paused to see if Sam was catching on, which he wasn’t so Dean continued. “All sorts of pie. Like, uh, apple pie, cherry pie… cream pie…” Sam’s eyes shot open as wide as they could and he almost went as red as me.

“Nope!” He declared, promptly spinning on his heel and leaving. Cas looked confused.

“I smell no pie here.”

“Never mind, Cas,” Dean patted him on the shoulder before urging him to catch up with Sam who I’m assuming is in the kitchen by now. When it was just Dean and I left I peered at him through my fingers, my face still burning up.

“Dean what the fuck just happened?!”

He tried to suppress his laughter, explaining that Cas was in fact ‘Castiel’ and an Angel of the Lord, which explained his rigid behaviour and a weirdly strong set of senses.

“Why didn’t you butt in and explain who he was before everything got so embarrassing!”

“To be honest it was all pretty hilarious.”

“No it wasn’t! That was NOT an enjoyable moment!”

“Ok I’m sorry,” Dean paused, looking down at me with softer eyes, a slight smile still on his lips. He stepped closer and I pushed on his chest.

“You better be! You owe me big time for that one Winchester.”

He grinned as the furious redness on my face simmered down, just leaving a pink glow on my cheeks.

“Ok ok! Look let's just go and get some breakfast and put this behind us,” he put his hand on the small of my back, urging me towards the kitchen. I hummed, walking with him. There were a few moments of silence as we made our way down before he suddenly spoke up again.

“Did you know that he once smelt a bladder infection on a dead guy?”

*

Breakfast was uneventful. I was unable to make eye contact with Castiel, and it seemed that Sam was unable to make eye contact with me. Dean however was completely unphased. Once we were all finished and I’d cleared everything away I made my way to my room, grabbed my dirty clothes and then headed to the laundry room - today was going to be a practical one as I officially had nothing else to wear. Upon arriving I couldn’t help but grimace; a mountain of mens clothes covered in mud, blood and black goop sat in the middle of the floor by the washers.

“Gross…” I winced, the smell of dirt and iron filling my nose as I got closer and poked the pile with a pipe I found off to the side. I half expected the mass of clothes to sprout legs and walk off. The boys could probably find lore on the thing with how long its been sitting here. I huffed, scooping my hair into a high ponytail before shoving a bunch of my washing in a machine and turning it on before returning for face the Winchesters laundry. I can’t leave it here, that goes against everything clean and hygienic that I stand for. I could burn it? They would definitely complain about having to replace all the plaid shirts. Should I sort it or just hope for the best? Do I check the pockets? Knowing all the crap they carry around, I should definitely check the pockets before a load of bullets or a hex bag goes through one of the machines. I set to work, sorting out colours, blacks and whites - unable to differentiate between lights and darks at times - and search every pocket as I go. The amount of women’s phone numbers I find on napkins and receipts is ridiculous. I can’t help but feel a little deflated, knowing I’m probably just a name on Deans list. I put them to the side in a pile, keeping them separate from the numbers from Sam’s pockets. I load up another machine and turn it on, picking up the stacks of numbers and leaving the room.

I find the boys sitting in their usual places at the tables, surrounded by piles of books and files. Castiel was nowhere to be seen. I walk up to them and slide the collection of phone numbers over to them.

“I thought you might want to keep these,” I said, not understanding the tone in my own voice. They both took a few seconds to realise what it was that I was handing them and they both responded in an abashed manner, shooting each other a knowing look before staring at the accumulation of digits, not once making eye contact with me. Sam nodded a quick ‘thank you’ before I turned to leave, and out of the corner of my eye I saw him crumple them up and throw them away in a carrier bag on the floor next to him. At the same time, I caught Dean shoving his collection into his jacket pocket, which was hung on the back of his chair. I hastened my actions and turned away quicker, not wanting to have the knowledge that he was keeping them. A pang of something shot through my chest, and I couldn’t tell if it was jealousy, sadness, rage or self pity. Whatever it was, I needed to get the fuck away from Dean.

*

A few hours passed and I was still sorting laundry. My clothes were officially clean and dry and away in my room, however the task at hand was now the clothes belonging to the Winchester boys. I was a few minutes away from the final load of washing being dry, and I’d managed to arrange the clothing into piles of ‘definitely Sam’ and ‘definitely Dean’, with a ‘really not sure’ pile in the middle. The jeans were easy enough to tell apart and due to Deans T-shirt I wore to bed last night, I now knew that he wore a slightly larger shirt size than his younger brother. I guess he had bigger shoulders, despite Sam being taller. My train of thought snapped as I suddenly heard a door slam upstairs and a female voice call out. I recognised the voice immediately. I stopped everything I was doing and headed upstairs, my feet carrying me with purpose as I reached the study room; Sam and Dean also emerging from another corridor.

“Charlie!” Dean beamed at her, going to give her a hug before I caught up to them and shoved him out the way.

“Don’t you EVER abandon me again like that,” I said, embracing her tight. “I’m fucking annoyed at you…. But I’m glad you’re here. These guys are like wild animals.” She patted my hair softly before I stepped back and she had an apologetic look on her face.

“I knooowwww I’m sorry! But you were in such a slump I really had to do something. Plus these guys really needed whipping into shape,” she spoke the second half of her sentence quieter and we both peered at the boys, fully aware that they could hear every word we were saying.

“Anyway!” She exclaimed, moving away and plopping her backpack onto the nearest table, “I think I have a case for you guys…” her voice was excited but the way her expression changed when she looked from the boys to me was slightly concerning. Sam seemed to pick up on this too.

“That’s great, but what’s the catch?” He asked. Charlie bit her lip and looked between the boys and me again.

“It’s in a strip club and we will need (Y/n) as bait.”

“What?!” Both me and Sam spoke up at the same time, and all that Dean could muster was a huge grin.

“I’m gonna need more details than that Charlie,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Right, yes, I probably should have started with the other details. Anyway, I’m pretty sure this club is run by a bunch of vamps, using girls as bait to lure in unsuspecting men to feed on in the private rooms.” The brothers nodded, like they’d seen this sort of thing before. “Anyway,” she continued, “I’ve had a hunch about this place for a while and did some digging, and it turns out that just last night they advertised a new position available and they want someone that looks just like (Y/n). This is a perfect way to take them down from the inside.” Charlie finished speaking and scanned our faces for any sort of response. I shrugged.

“Sure I’m in.”

“No way, we aren’t putting you in the line of fire like that,” Sam turned to me, a look of worry already smothering his features.

“I agree with Sam, this will be more dangerous than the last case. We’ll find another way to take them down,” Dean said, before he added in an almost snide tone “plus I bet you can’t even lap dance. How would you ever fit in?”

I scoffed.

“Fuck you, I can lap dance just fine.”

“Oh yeah? Prove it.”

“I don’t need to prove shit to you.”

“Guys,” Sam held his hands up, “not right now.”

I turned back to Charlie.

“Look I’m in, can you make sure that no one else gets hired?” She grins, opening her backpack and pulling out her tablet.

“Absolutely!”

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Up Next:

Chapter 8 part 2

[yourdeepestfathoms]

HIHIHIHI i loooove your tadc and yaelokre headcanons and Perrine is my absolute favourite, do you have any headcanons on how well the lark fare in winter? Like individual or general problems they face or literally anything idm!! (Especially Perrine) <3

you bet i do!!

Winter is harsh for the kids.

They don’t perform as often in the winter due to a variety of reasons. Like the wind being too strong, so it throws their voices and makes it impossible for them to be heard. Or it simply being too cold.

And even when they do perform, not many people show up since their venue is outside.

They sometimes get indoor venues, but not often.

That being said, money can be tight during the winter months.

Which makes everyone stressful.

Mainly Perrine, as she mostly handles the funds, and she tries to keep the others oblivious when they’re running low on money, as she doesn’t want to worry them.

Because then Cole will start to get anxious, and Kingsley will start to wail about how they’re going to starve, and even though he’s joking, that just makes Cole even more anxious.

The cottage is a sanctuary, but they had to make some adjustments to it, such as sealing windows and such.

Cole worries that nobody will like them anymore, since they don’t perform as often.

Perrine chops woods and always makes sure there’s fuel for the hearth.

She’s also hunting more often, as catching their food saves money for other things.

Kingsley gets really bad cabin fever and starts to become restless when cooped up inside for too long, which he makes everyone else’s problem.

The kids don’t fight often, but when they do, it’s usually during winter.

Because again.

Everyone is kinda cooped up inside during the colder months.

So they sometimes will snap at each other for the most mundane things.

Perrine especially gets annoyed really easily.

In general, she’s the one with the shortest temper, but her fuse is even shorter during winter.

It’s not that she doesn’t love the others. She does!

But dear god. They can be so annoying sometimes.

Kingsley especially, as much as she loves him.

She needs her space.

She needs time alone.

When it’s warmer, she often spends most of her time outside, doing different things. She just likes being by herself.

And she can’t do that when there’s a snowstorm outside.

Clémentine, on the other hand, is the exact opposite.

They love being around everyone more!

They’re very much a people person, and everyone being together makes them happy!

They’re usually the one to placate and calm down Perrine when she’s cranky.

Clémentine loves to cuddle when it’s cold. It’s so cozy!

Perrine once got lost in a blizzard.

It came out of nowhere.

One moment, it was clear.

The next, the wind had picked up, and suddenly the world around her was all white.

She was out hunting, far from the cabin.

Now, Perrine prided herself on her tracking skills.

But in that blizzard, she immediately became lost. She couldn’t tell what direction she came from, and it was soon impossible to see more than three feet in front of her, so she had no way to right herself. Everything looked the same.

It was painful.

Pelting snow trying to stab her blind.

Every breath being snow-thick and suffocating.

So cold she burned.

But even more than the pain…

She was terrified.

Where should she go? Where was the way home?

Was she going to die?

The cold was death. Thick, white, impenetrable death.

She was staring death in its face.

It’s scary, how things could change so quickly.

She was perfectly fine one moment, and less than fifteen minutes later, she was in the beginning stages of hypothermia, ever so slowly getting colder.

She was layered in furs, yes. She had a coat and a hat and gloves and thick boots, of course.

And yet, the cold found its way in, somehow. Like a maggot in hot flesh, it burrowed itself through her clothing and into her warmth, slowly extinguishing that flame that burned within every person.

Life.

She kept moving. Somehow. Even when the snow piled higher and higher, making it that much more difficult to simply lift her feet.

If she could steady her shuddering breaths, maybe she could get her extremities to follow…

In through the nose, because if she opened her mouth, she worried her tongue might freeze.

She just had to block out everything else- the wind, the cold, the unrelenting voices in her head telling her to give up.

Just breathe. Focus…and breathe…

But even as she trudged in what she hopped was the cottage, she was still throttled.

And her will began to wane.

Until…

The world cracked.

Cold clenched her lungs so tightly that each breath was a silver razor in her chest.

Her mind tripped in sluggish circles, white-blind and hum-deaf, until color and sound turned into overlapping floods as her body burst into fiery pins.

She was spinning…spinning…spinning…

This was how she died.

She wondered about the others.

How long until they noticed she was gone? Had they already realized that she was missing for too long and shouldn’t be out in such bad weather? Were they trying to look for her, despite the storm?

Or did they not care at all?

Were they happy to have her gone?

And how would they fare when she was dead and buried beneath the snow, her body to never be found until the ice thawed? By then, she would have been eaten by some desperate creature, scrabbling to survive in the cold, just as she had been trying to do.

Bones and fur and nothing else to designate her as something that was ever truly human.

Because what was the difference between her and a wolf? Her and a bird? Her and a deer? They all lived, they all died, they all fought to survive.

She always felt like she was a resilient person. She was the oldest- she had to be.

But she was not winning this fight.

Her life was flashing before her eyes, her brain desperately trying to find a way to save itself.

Tears froze on her cheeks.

She couldn’t even sob because her mouth had frozen shut.

She was a living thing already going through algor mortis.

And then…

She was hot.

What?

Why was she hot?

She felt like she was burning up.

So, so, so hot.

These clothes…

They were frying her.

She needed to her these damn furs off!

And as she was…

She heard something over the wind and the sound of her own heartbeat.

Footsteps…?

A figure was standing with her in the storm.

The blizzard was like a glittering shroud, wrapping the figure in veils of white. They wore the storm like a dress, seemingly unaffected by its cruelty.

Was this…an angel?

Perrine never really considered her the religious type. But she wouldn’t turn it away. She didn’t have the strength to.

It stood there for a moment, just staring at her.

Then, a hand was extended to her.

Looks like it was time to go.

She took its hand, and it hauled her to her feet with surprising strength.

It began to practically drag her through the woods, and Perrine could barely keep up in her frozen, delirious state.

“Wait! S-slow down!” she wheedled. “I can’t breathe!”

It didn’t listen. Or maybe it didn’t hear her over the howling gales. Either way, it kept going.

Perrine thought she blacked out eventually, because most of her memories from there were all white and too blurry.

But when she managed to claw herself to consciousness again, she found herself…in the cottage. In front of the hearth. Piled in blankets to the point where she could barely move. With the others all cuddled around her.

What…?

Somewhere on a snowy hillock, looking down at the whiteout below, a pair of figures stood, unimpeded and unaffected by the cold.

“I thought you were all about the cycle never being broken,” the Enkindled spoke. “So do enlighten me: why didn’t you let the child die?”

Rime formed a deathly mask over the Croon’s skull, and when it breathed out, plumes of white billowed into the air.

“Well?” The Enkindled poked it with a skinny finger. “Does this not ruin the order you speak of?”

“No,” the Croon rumbled. “Her death would unbalance the scale.”

“Are you saying the child is chaos?”

The Croon shook out its whole body, much like how an animal would when it’s wet. Icicles are dislodged from its antlers and spray out like daggers. The Enkindled raised a hand to shield its face.

“Rude.”

“Order can’t live if chaos dies.”

“So I’m right, then.”

“…”

“You can let me be right for once.”

[simplyreveries]

hii!! i just found your blog and the writings are all so good?!! can i request lilia, riddle, and epel with a yuu/mc that’s shorter than them? if it’s not ok you can ignore this!! tysmm(≧∀≦) and have a nice day!!!

i sometimes forget im the same height as riddle fkljd

lilia vanrouge

lilia is always teasing you about it even if it's only like… you’re shorter by an inch or two. he’s playfully telling you how cute and small you are in comparison to him; he tells you he thinks you're such a fragile human. he loves to hug you and bury his face in your hair, he’ll coo to you as he playfully rocks you side to side, it’s sweet.

sometimes he does make jokes regarding it and trust me they're so bad that its almost funny. (keyword almost, you just give him a deadpan stare). one time when no one could hear you saying something during class, lilia mentions "ah well i guess it can't be helped. after all, you're easy to overlook fufu". once again lilia says all these things like he isn't 5'1.

he enjoys giving you kisses on the cheek- but he also loves grabbing your face with his hands and lifting it up a little so he can give you a kiss on the forehead. then that would only turn into him attacking your face with kisses all over.

riddle rosehearts

he doesn't necessarily say anything about it, but he is quite happy to know you're someone that's actually shorter than him. besides, his dorm leader uniform usually gives him some extra height with the boots/heels he wears and has on most of the time. if you ever were to point that out, he'd give an amused look and be like "hm, i guess i am, arent i?" he feels so confident askdhahdj

one time after you did enough pleading with him to let him try on his heels that are a part of his uniform to feel that extra sense of height. he wouldn't admit it, but he found the whole thing to be quite silly and bit back some laughs.

riddle is a little content too with the fact that he has someone he looks down at when talking to instead of up… it hurts your neck yk. he has also developed a habit of petting your hair, especially when he’s in a soft and relaxed mood with you. he has a gentle smile on his face as he pets your hair as you're talking or whenever you come over to hug him.

epel felmier

im not even going to lie to you he is incredibly happy that you're shorter than him, it makes him just feel so good about himself… he is also genuinely surprised because it's not often he meets someone his age that's shorter than him. epel finally gets to feel confident and smug even if it's being a single INCH taller than you. you've once caught him standing next to you and discreetly doing the hand thing to see how much shorter you are than him haha.

even though he doesn't like the shoes vil gives him or makes him wear for pomefiore’s dress codes and such, he does like how much more of a boost it gives him to his height so that he can feel even that much taller than you, he’ll laugh and if you ask him why he’ll get closer to you and point that out.

he doesn't really take it kindly when other tall guys at nrc seem to tease you about it, he gets pretty defensive over you… like it's it's mostly because he's used to hearing it himself and knows how harsh people can be. he doesn't want to ever see you upset like him because of it too. he can't help but feel a little more protective over you.

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ::: I did dishes tonight and was bent over, yeah, you guessed it, filling up the Jet-Dry thingy and thought how nice would it be to have Draken come up behind me and whack me on the ass. And then it just got terribly, terribly out of hand and now we're like 2500+ words shorter on life. I'm so sorry I do this shit. But you don't have to read it. (THOUGH ILY ALL SM FOR READING IT!!!!)

C/W ::: Domestic!Draken x F.reader, fluff, some smut.

WC ::: 2,572

You're bent over the dishwasher filling up the rinse agent again. Because even though everyone that comes through your home CAN do things, doesn't mean they WILL.

You're filling it up and it hasn't spilled yet. Like, all of it has gone into the receptacle and it's perfect. You hear Draken's heavy, booted footsteps approaching you and you're so excited to tell him your stupid little feat over the dishwasher. "Ken! Ken! Guess what I just di-" he smacks your ass with a cupped hand. And so hard, too, that it almost makes you fall forward onto the open dishwasher door.

"What. The. Fuck. Have. You. Done!!" you say to him in a tone that's borderline scaring him. "Did you not see what I was doing here? I c- hoh man. Oh my god, Ken."

"W- why're you talkin' to me like that? What'd I do? Why ... why is your face so red, sweets, hm?" You stood up and turned around, the jet-dry all over your hand. And you're so much shorter than him. He doesn't understand this fear that's bubbling up in his stomach at the way you're staring at him with such ... murderous intent.

"Um, th-thank you for doing the dishes ... right? Is that what I'm supposed to say right now?" You slap his arm, making him yell in surprise. "Ow! Wha-"

"Don't interrupt me!" you yell at him. "You know damn well why I'm upset with you. Don't play dumb."

"Ohh, is this about the ass smack?"

"Yeah, it's about the ass smack! Do you realize how perfectly I was pouring that stupid dishwasher spot rinse this time? You just ... you ruined it! I'm gonna have to wait until it's run out and try again! AGAIN!"

He laughs. "Aw, baby, you're cute when you get all mad like this. It's adorable."

"Ryuuguji. This is not fucking funny to me! You can't just hit me like that while I'm trying to do something else. I was bending over for god's sake. You couldn't just, I don't know, tap me or something?"

"Uhhh, but you love it when I smack your ass, babe. Don't even try to deny it."

"That's beside the point! You can't do it every time."

"Well, maybe if you weren't so fuckin' hot when you're bent over like that, I wouldn't feel the need to!" You stare at him with your mouth agape. "I'm just sayin'!" he adds.

"Just. Shut up. And go back to your show." You turn around and start filling up the dishwasher again. He puts his hands on your waist, sliding them around to your stomach. "Ken ... I love you, but don't touch me right now."

"What if I don't wanna watch TV anymore? What if I wanna watch that pretty mouth of your wrappin' around my..." he pressed his erection against your ass. "Hm? You look so pretty."

"Are you kidding me?"

"What, you don't want my dick anymore? Is that what you're saying?"

"Yes! That's exactly what I'm saying! I don't want it right now because you're being insensitive!" He laughed.

"Why are you being so fuckin' psychotic about this? It's just the stupid spot rinse. And anyway, wasn't I helping you by getting more of it to circulate around in there? I think I deserve a thank you for being so insightful without even knowing it."

You turned around and shoved him away. "You're unbelievable. Seriously." You put the cap back on the spot rinse and walked away from him. "I don't wanna talk to you."

"Oh, come on! Baby, don't be like that! It was just a joke!" He followed you into the living room, where you were sitting on the couch with your arms crossed. "Sweetie, I'm sorry. I'll let you do your thing from now on, okay?"

"And how am I supposed to know if you're just saying that to appease me? You can't just apologize like that and expect me to believe you."

"I'll prove it to you. I'll watch your every move and make sure you’re not doing anything else before I smack your ass. See? I can be considerate too."

"Okay, well, if you can go a week without smacking my ass when it's poor timing, I'll believe you."

"A WEEK? I can't smack your ass for a whole week? Babe. Come on. You're being cra- unreasonable about this."

"I'm being what?"

"Nothing. Just. Fine. A week it is."

"Good." You smirked at him. "So, you can start by letting me finish filling up the dishwasher right now."

"No." He said. "Puttin' my foot down. And - and no. You getting all huffy about the fuckin' dishwasher has me hard as fuck and I want you to sit on my lap. Now."

"Are you kidding me? No! I'm not having sex with you after you made me spill my hard-earned dishwasher spot rinse!"

"Baby, it's just dish soap."

"AH-HA! It's not dish soap. It's a rinsing agent!" You don't know why you felt like you'd won the whole thing right then and there. But Draken just shook his head at you and walked to the bedroom and flopped down on the bed, undoing his pants.

"Fine. Just know that I'll be over here, jackin' off while you're doing your little thing. And you'll be missing out on a good time, so, you know. Your choice."

You didn't care. You went back to the kitchen and started filling up the dishwasher again. This time, you had a timer set for 5 minutes. If you couldn't fill it up in that time, you were going to give up and come back to it later.

Draken stayed on the bed with his cock in his hand, stroking slowly while he watched you from the bedroom. It was kind of hot, seeing you so determined. He knew you weren't going to let him win this one. And that turned him on. A lot.

But you couldn't do it. The timer went off and you still had a little left to do. And it pissed you off. You walked back to the bedroom and threw a pillow at him. "Happy?"

He smiled at you. "Why don't you come and find out?" You looked down at his hard cock and back up at him. You rolled your eyes and grabbed the pillow, throwing it back to its spot on the bed.

"I'm not gonna have sex with you while you're being such a brat." You started to walk away but he grabbed your arm and pulled you toward him.

"I- sor- sorry. I'M being a brat? Who the fuck do you think you are! Talk-" he pulled you so you were standing right in front of him and yanked your yoga pants and panties down in one motion. "Talking to me like that. You're the brat here, brat. And you know what," he laid you over his lap so your ass was in the perfect position to spank, "you're about to get a little lesson in respect. I'll show you who's a brat."

"K- Ken ... don't you dare!" But he was already bringing his hand down on your bare ass, making you yelp in surprise. "Ah! Ow! Don't you fucking dare!"

He smacked you again, harder this time. "Respect, bitch!" He smacked you again and again, alternating between cheeks. "Who's a brat now?"

"You, Ken! You! Oh my- oh my god, please stop!" You were laughing so hard that tears were running down your cheeks and you couldn't believe he was doing this to you. It stung but it was also turning you on.

He stopped spanking you and pulled you onto his lap, laying you on your side so your ass wasn't touching anything. "You okay, baby? Huh?" He ran his fingers over the red marks on your skin.

"I hate you so much," you said, still laughing.

"No. You don't." He kissed your cheek and ran his hands over your body. "You love me."

"Yeah, I do."

He lifted you up and positioned you so you were straddling him. "Good. Now. Let's have sex."

"Um. I don't think so." You slid off of him and looked around for your pants. They were in the garbage. "Really, Ken? The garbage can?"

"What? It's not like I meant to throw them there."

"Mm-hm. And besides, you just spanked me! Multiple times! So no. N-O spells no." You started to run away from him, still bare assed. Your ass jiggled all the way down the hallway and he couldn’t take his eyes off of it. 

"Oh, no, you don't!" He ran after you and tackled you onto the couch, pinning you down with his body. "I didn't say you could go anywhere. You're staying right here with me."

"Ken, please!"

"Please, what? You want me to spank you more? Is that it? You liked getting your ass slapped, huh? You little slut." He pushed his cock against you, pressing it against your clit. "You wanna get fucked?"

"Yes! Yeh-hess, I want you to fuck me, Ken."

"Hmm. Not so fast." He pulled away from you and got down on his knees on the floor, lifting your legs up over his shoulders. He kissed the inside of your thighs, his lips ghosting over your skin. "You know how much I love these thighs of yours?"

"Mhm. Ken, please."

"Really. Now you're begging me for it? You're fuckin' unbelievable. So needy 'n shit. Got some nerve." He pressed his tongue against your clit, flicking it back and forth. "I don't know if I'm ready yet. You're gonna have to work a little harder than that to get me going. 'Sides, you had your chance. Several, actually. So really, this is your fault." He went back to licking your pussy, his tongue delving into your folds. 

You brought your fingers to your mouth and licked them, rubbing them over your clit, moaning as he ate you out. He pushed your hand away and replaced it with his own. He started to rub your clit faster, making your hips buck up. "Mm. Good girl."

"Ah! Ohh, fuck!" Your orgasm hit you hard, making you moan loudly. "Ken! Ahh, fuck!" You tried to push him away, but he kept going, licking and sucking at your wetness until you couldn't take it anymore. "I can't! Fuck, I ca- hah!"

He finally stopped and sat back on his heels, wiping his mouth with his hand. "There. Now. How do you feel about fucking me now?"

You laughed at him. "Fuck off."

"Aww, come on, baby. You know you wanna." He leaned forward and kissed your lips, his tongue dipping into your mouth. "Let's finish filling up the dishwasher together, hm?" He helped you up and pulled your shirt over your head, leaving you completely naked.

"I can't believe you," you said, laughing. "You really did that."

"Hey, you said no sex. I was just taking it a step further by removing all of your clothes so you couldn't even pretend you were gonna have sex with me. In this household, nudity is not frowned upon. In fact, I may tell our friends that if they come over, they have to take their clothes off. You'd like that, huh? I see the way you look at Mikey and Baji. Kazutora sometimes. And Chifuyu. And Mitsuya."

"OK! Jesus. Yeah, your friends are hot. But I'm in love with you, you caveman."

"I know. But it's okay. They don't mind that you're in love with me, either. So don't worry about it. You can fuck any of them if you want."

"I ... wh-what? I don't want to fuck them. I just like lookin' at them. Jesus. Way to give me up so fast! Wait, have they - have they said anything about wanting to fuck me? No no no. Don't answer that. Let's just do the dishes so you can fuck me."

He laughed and grabbed you by the arm, pulling you toward the kitchen. "Fine. Come on, then. Let's fill up the dishwasher and get you back into bed for round 2."

"Oh god, please don't call it that."

"What? What else would you call it? Fucking?"

"Yes, that's it."

"Oh, right. The fucking. Got it." He walked over to the dishwasher and grabbed the spot rinse. "Here. Fill it up. I'll watch." He leaned against the counter, his arms folded across his chest.

You sighed. "Fine." You picked up the bottle and filled it up, not spilling a drop. "You're ruining my fun by watching me so closely."

"Nah. You're just being a little brat again." He stepped closer to you and pressed his erection against your back. "And you know what happens to brats, right?"

"Yeah, they get punished."

"That's right, baby. That's exactly right." He spun you around and kissed you, his lips pressing against yours hungrily. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard right here on the counter, you’ll never do the dishes again without thinking about my cock."

You giggled and shook your head at him. "You're such a horny fuck, Ken. I love it." You started to push his boxers down his hips.

He pulled them down and stepped out of them, his cock hard and ready for you. "That's my girl. You ready for me?"

"Mhm." You lifted your leg up and wrapped it around his waist, pulling him closer. "Fuck me, Ken. Fuck me right here."

He thrust his cock into you, making you gasp in surprise. "There it is. That's what I love hearing from you." He fucked you hard and fast, his hips snapping against yours as he pounded into you. "Ahh, fuck. You feel so good. You feel so fucking good."

"Ohh, Ken! Ah! Fuck! Oh my god! Hah!!!" You cried out, scooting closer and closer to him off of the counter.

"Yeah? Fuckin' feels so good yeah? Fuck I love it when you're loud!" He began thrusting even harder into you.

"No! There's a fork stabbing me in the ass, get me off of here!" you yelled, trying to get away from the sharp metal object.

He laughed too hard at that and picked you up, carrying you to the bedroom. "There you go, baby."

You sighed in relief. "Thank you." He climbed onto the bed with you and pulled you on top of him. "Now I want you to ride me. Ride my cock." He held your hips and helped you move up and down on him. "Fuck, you're so hot like this. Yeah, just like that."

You moaned as you rode him, your hips rocking back and forth as you took him deeper. "Ken, you're so fucking good." You leaned forward and kissed him, your tongue sliding into his mouth. He kissed you back, his tongue rubbing against yours.

He started to thrust up into you, matching your rhythm. "That's it, baby. I love forking you." He smirked.

"What the fuck did you just say? I'm done. This was not meant to happen today." You climbed off of him and went to the bathroom to clean up.

"Babe, I'm sor-" he couldn't talk he was laughing so hard. "I'm sorry! Come here. C'mere."

"No. You know what? No. Go fork yourself, Ryuuguji. Don't speak to me for the rest of the day." You chuckled.

You don't know what you did to deserve this beautiful man in your life. But you thank the God's everyday that he loves you back.

Taglist ::: @kazutora-kurokawa @darkstarlight82 @viburnt @arlerts-angel @katkitkats @honeycloudz @lesyeuxde-amour

To the people I never tag, I only tagged you because you <3'd my silly little post. I won't tag you in anything else (unless you specifically request to be so. Thanks!)

[zombiigrll]

ENID my love can you do something for her where she goes to the hilltop to help maggie but winds up bumping into reader and they start developing a little relationship ooh 👻👻

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SAFE WITH ME. ⋆｡°✩ enid rhee x fem!reader

.ᐟ WORD COUNT .ᐟ ⭑ 1.6K

꩜ .ᐟ WARNINGS ⭑ use of y/n, blood mention, reader has anxiety + fear of blood and angsty backstory!! oooo!! kissing, swearing, kind of a bad ending im so sorry </3

.ᐟ SUMMARY .ᐟ ⭑ you had always been a quiet person. that was until you met the girl who saved your life, and helped you out of your shell.

꩜ .ᐟ A/N .ᐟ ⭑ HELLO AURA!!! im so sorry this came out so late omg... i hope you like it!!! i lost ALL MY PROGRESS ON THIS THE OTHER DAY </3 I HAD TO REWRITE IT COMPLETELYYYY so i'm so sorry if it seems a bit rushed T_T but again i hope you like it ily!!! <33

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you were running for what felt like forever. your feet were swollen, they felt as if they were bleeding from how fast you were running. you could tell your shoes had holes in them because after a bit of running, you felt rocks under your feet and felt air brushing past. your throat burned as you gasped for air while you were sprinting. you felt like you were going to pass out at any minute.

why were you running though? and what from?

well, you were apart of a group. a nasty group. you were just passing through, and they decided to recruit you. you were never fond of groups, in the mindset that they'd all end terribly from your past experiences.

you finally got an opportunity to run, so, you did.

they had taken almost everything from you. your backpack, warm clothes, your boots, all that stuff. you were left in a tank top and shorts, along with really shitty sneakers.

after maybe 30 minutes of non-stop sprinting through the woods, your legs gave out. you fell, but instead of your hands landing on hard rocks and sharp sticks, it landed on some sort of gravel.

you were at the side of what looked like an endless road. your palms were bleeding, along with your knees as they fell onto the gravel and the tiny rocks dug through into your skin.

"fuuck.." you silently cried, squeezing your eyes shut through the pain.

you moved over to the hard concrete road and sat down, looking at your bloody palms and knees.

the rocks were into your skin, deep. and you couldn't stand the sight of your own blood. your head felt like it was spinning as you attempted to stay awake.

and just as you felt your body starting to go limp, you heard a voice.

"hello? are you okay?" a girls voice asked. you only let out a inaudible mumble in response. "oh, you're bleeding!"

as she came closer to you, you noticed her features. she had long brown hair and beautiful eyes. she looked around your age, too. she kneeled down and pulled bandages out of her bag. "don't worry, you're safe with me. try and stay awake, okay? i'm gonna bandage you really quick, then we can go back to my community. it's not too far from here."

you nodded and attempted to stay awake, but seeing your blood dripping down your knees was too much. your vision went blurry before everything went black.

...

"you check her for bites?" you heard a womans voice ask as you came back to your senses.

"of course. i checked right as she passed out." the girl from before spoke up.

you started fluttering your eyes back open, looking at the two girls who were hovering over you, talking to one another. there was a woman with shorter hair and blue eyes, then the girl from before.

you silently sit up, which surprises the two girls.

the woman stares at you intently before speaking up. "who are you?"

you were anxious to respond, looking at the girl from before who simply gives you a nod with a comforting smile. "my name is y/n." you mutter just loud enough for the two to hear.

"what were you running from?"

"an old group." you start messing with your hands. "i didn't mean to intrude."

the womans face turns a bit more soft. "i'm maggie."

"i'm enid." the girl who saved you speaks up with a wave. "if you, uh, don't mind me asking.. why were you running from your old group?"

"because they were falling apart, like every other group." you blankly responded. "they took everything from me."

maggie and enid exchange a somber looked before facing you again.

"you can stay here for a bit if you'd like. hilltop's got a couple places you can sleep at." maggie offers with a smile.

"i wouldn't want to be a burden.."

"you're not a burden if i'm offerin'." she pats your shoulder.

"...alright. i'll be out of your hair soon, though." you caved, giving a soft smile back to the two.

...

you thought that you were going to be out of hilltop quick. you never liked groups, but something was different about this one.

it was probably enid. she drove you crazy. not in a bad way, but the way that her hair perfectly framed her face, the way her eyes glistened in the sunlight, the way her voice played through your ears on loop even if you two weren't hanging out... it made you insane.

you never felt this way about anyone. maybe you were just thankful that she saved your life? but it felt like more than that.

you and enid were attached to each others hip. you'd gossip together- well, mostly enid.. you'd play games together, go on runs together, you did everything together.

today, there was a small campfire at hilltop that some of the residents were talking around, and enid dragged you to it despite knowing you were anxious around the others.

people were talking about their lives, before and after the apocalypse, their hobbies, the saviors.. lots of random, all-over-the-place type stuff.

"yeah, even through all these years, i still get scared when i see a few roamers.." one person spoke.

you had a cup of water in your hands, taking sips while your leg anxiously bounced up and down. enid was right by your side and placed a comforting hand on your knee, looking up at you.

"you okay?" she whispered, just loud enough for only you to hear.

"mhm. i'm good." you nodded before taking a quick sip. you brushed her off just to simply hide that fact that your heart was pounding out of your chest. she was just being a good friend, but it made your mind race.

she nodded understandingly. she knew you better than anyone, she knew you just needed to be alone, and that you'd be too stubborn to leave the campfire despite not wanting to be there in the first place.

but eventually, everyone began dispersing back to their homes, leaving just you and enid alone at the camp fire together.

she turned her chair so she could face you. "you didn't answer any of the questions."

"hm?" you raised an eyebrow, setting your, now empty, cup onto the floor by your feet.

"the questions. we were going around and answering different questions, you just spaced out." enid reminded.

"oh. sorry." you gave her an apologetic look, nervously rubbing the back of your neck.

"..do you want to answer them now? just the two of us."

you looked away in thought for a moment, staring at the burning logs before looking back at her. "sure."

"alright, first question. and, feel free to say skip to any of the questions if they're too much." enid clasped her hands together ecstatically, happy that you agreed. "who were you with at the very beginning of all this, who were you with?"

"my siblings." you reminisced to the beginning. "it didn't last long, though."

"... i get that." enid looks at you, sympathy in her tone and eyes. "well, next question. "what's your favorite part about the hilltop?"

you awkwardly looked away before answering. "you, probably."

"me?" she let out a soft laugh, the laugh you adored so much. "why me?"

"because you're the only reason why i'm still at hilltop." you clarified with a smile. "i wasn't planning on staying here this long, but.. you being here, helping me.. all that stuff. it made me want to stay."

enid smiles, her face a bit pink as she lets out a more breathy laugh and looks away. "well..." she pats hers knees rhythmically before speaking again. "i'm glad you stayed. hah.. next question?"

"next question." you repeated with a smile.

"...ever kissed a girl before?" she looks at you, her face looking somewhat devious and joking, but you know her too well, immediately being able to tell it's a genuine question.

"did they really ask this?" you let out a short laugh.

"maybe, maybe not. maybe i'm just curious."

your eyes widened, and you felt your face growing a bit hot. "uh.. well, no. i haven't."

"have you wanted to?" she raised an eyebrow, her face growing softer as she looks into your eyes.

you simply look at her speechless. your face was probably red as hell, but the way your features softened as you looked back at enid, your eyes trailing from her lips to her eyes.. it answered her question.

she got up from her chair moved closer to you. her eyes looked down at yours and she tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear before leaning her head down to kiss you.

a million thoughts were running through your head as you anxiously returned the kiss, your hand meeting hers.

you couldn't tell how long the kiss went on for, it felt like forever, but it also felt like it left too soon. as the two of you separated, you looked at each other with reddened cheeks and big, bright smiles.

"..holy shit." you finally spoke up, a breathy chuckle escaping through your words.

you looked down, and your hands were interlocked. when did you two do that? you guys were too lost in the kiss to realize, i guess.

the two of you giggled about it for a second, not knowing what to say.

enid was your first real friend, you thought. and your friend partner, too.

"are you okay?" she smiled, looking down at you as if you were an angel.

"yes." you nodded, responding instantly. "yes, i am. thank you."

"for what?" enid cupped your face in her hand, her gorgeous smile remaining on her face.

"everything." you brought your hands up to the hand on your face, leaning into it. "just everything."

she leaned down and kissed you on your forehead. "well, of course. thank you for everything, too."

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[abilouwrites]

THE BEFORE, AND THE AFTER

3

series Masterlist

(Og draft got deleted I’m sorry pookies)

It takes Bakugo three months before he winds up in my ER once again. This time less injured, with a large gash on his abdomen. I’ve just worked a twelve hour shift and am dying to get home. But alas I get called in to the trauma room where he’s just sitting, “called for you” He smiles weakly but lifts his shirt to show a semi-deep cut just at his ribcage, “hoped you weren’t off”

I groan a little as I slip my sterile gown and gloves on, grabbing a suture kit and bringing it near where I’m sitting, “uh-huh, can I take a listen to your lungs?” I ask taking my stethoscope from my pockets.

“Yeah. Can I get more of the pain killers?” He asks, crimson eyes flick over my figure and how I’m hunched listening to his lungs. Which sound fine.

“No, I’m just gonna numb you a little bit and then stitch you up” I clarify, gentling numbing the area and slowly pulling the sutures tight.

I hear him wince and inhale sharply, “you do not have gentle hands”

“Uh huh” I nod, “I just wanna get home. I’ve promised my roommate that I’d be there for dinner. And I’ve broken my promises more than enough” I murmur; dumping my gloves and gown into the trash.

“You have a roommate?” He asks; sitting up and pulling his mask off- allowing stray blonde hair to fall into his eyes. Which he quickly brushes out of his face.

“Yeah.. not all of us make almost two mil every year. But shes great I love her” I murmur, “uh yeah you’re good”

“Why don’t I take you out to dinner” he asks and now I know the morphine is talking.

“Ha-ha” I joke a dry laugh, “I’ll see you around. Just take it easy for a while”

I’m tired and burnt out when I slink through the door, listening to some jazz pop as I unlock the door. I’m not surprised to see Suki asleep on the couch. Stove off and food in the oven. I don’t bother waking her. She has a job interview with this tech company in the morning.

I open my door, clothes on the ground. A messy room, with makeup on my desk and medical books holding up the uneven legs. The little trinkets on my windowsill.

I’ve been working the past 48 hours, non stop— doctors are working less hours, which means the nurses have to step up. I’m working harder than I ever have. For the same pay.

I have the feeble energy to put the remaining clean laundry I have away before I stuff my laundry basket full of dirty clothes.

I flop into bed and am grateful I won’t have to work until tomorrow night.

Halfway through my shift I go for coffee. Mostly because this is my favorite coffee spot but also because hospital coffee sucks. There’s a shorter line than usual, people know this place but not very well. The nurses know it best, but I’m still a little astonished to see him there. Hair a little damp and eyes red with irritation. In the bareness of his hero costume, no gauntlets. Still those dumb boots.

I pick up my iced coffee, relishing in that first sip. The sip doesn’t cure my exhaustion; or the fact I’m walking a little under a mile back to the hospital.

But Bakugo never misses, eyes keen he spots me. Murmuring my name against the crowd, sliding next to me as I walk out. Light green scrubs and black clogs. The ugliest shoes but also the comfiest, “dynamight I haven’t seen you in a while” I tease gently as he smiles. Not even bothering to get his coffee.

“I’m almost due for my next visit then? Aren’t I?” He asks. A faint smile of that softened jaw-line. He’s not much taller than I am, 6’2 to my 5’7.

“God no, we’re so understaffed.. I’m working 80 hours a week and I’m still struggling on grocery and car and just everything.” I murmur a little, looking over at him.

“I’ve heard about the strikes, everyone says hero’s are the foundation of society but it’s carried by medicine” he speaks, a soft voice against the few cars that pass the streets.

“I know.. I’m just exhausted.. y’know?” I’m still quiet, “how has the stitches been healing?”

“All healed. Just a little sore.”

“And the wrist?”

“Because we’re out of your work place.. what’s it gonna take for me to take you out to dinner?”

I shrug back a laugh, but smile at him, “a lot more than that”

[vodika-vibes]

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For my request:

Gemstone: My birthstone, Topaz (affectionate love)

Clone: Gonna have to be my #1 fella, Hunter, because I'm nothing if not a Hunter simp of the highest order. (I know you've said you're not comfy with Hunter, but you've always nailed it before!)

Season: Autumn

I honestly have no ideas at all as to where I would want this to go, so I'd love it if you would just use your magic brain to write what you feel (and don't feel pressure to come up with something out of the ordinary if that's not where you're led, anything with Hunter will make me happy, guaranteed.)

Thanks so much for always being so willing to fill requests. <3

Carol (@clonethirstingisreal)

Fall Into Love

Summary: Hunter’s relatively new to relationships, but he’s trying his hardest to make you happy. So when you invite him to go apple picking with you, he’s happy to go along…even if he doesn’t quite understand it.

Pairing: TBB Hunter x F!Reader

Prompt: Topaz - Affectionate Love

Word Count: 745

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: I hope this is affectionate enough! Your request made me remember all of those long autumn days in Massachusetts when my mom and aunt would drag the kids apple picking, and we'd climb trees and eat apples. It was fun, even if I wasn't allowed to eat any of the apples, due to my allergy.

“You seem excited?” Hunter hesitantly offers as he watches you pull your hair into a tail, and then pull a sweatshirt over the thin tank top you’re wearing.

You flash a blinding smile at the man sitting on your bed, “I am excited! It’s fall!”

The smile he graces you with is soft and adoring. It’s how he’s always smiled at you, but it never fails to make you giggle. Your tough, strong man turns into such a sap when he sees you happy.

“I’m glad that you’re happy,” Hunter says quietly, “But I’m not sure I understand what we’re doing today.” He lifts the pamphlet and eyes it, “Apple picking? Isn’t that just us paying to do work?”

You laugh, your head tilting back before you drop to the bed next to him, “Not quite. We each get a bag, and we get to keep anything that we pick.”

“...and do what with them?” He asks, bewildered.

“Well, I’ll make some pies, and some tarts, and some jam and jelly and cider-” You list off your fingers, “More importantly, there’s more there than just the apple picking.”

You hop to your feet and take his hand in yours, pulling him to his feet.

“I suppose the others would like a pie.” Hunter admits as he allows you to pull him through the apartment and to the front door. And then he offers you support as you pull your boots on.

“I make amazing pies.” You brag, before you spin on your toes, as best as you can while wearing your boots, and you drop a quick kiss to his lips, “And, if you have fun, we can bring Omega there next weekend.”

He grins at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners, “Well then, I suppose we’d better find out if I like it.” Hunter teases as he offers you your thin windbreaker, and then opens the door for you.

Half an hour later, he pulls your speeder up in front of the Orchard, looking genuinely surprised at the sheer number of people here. “Uh…babe-?”

“It’s a large orchard, and it’s a popular autumn activity,” You explain as he pulls the speeder into an open spot, and parks.

“And you’re sure they’ll let me in?”

“I’m positive.” You fling open the door and climb out of the speeder, and then wait for Hunter to join you. “Here,” You pass him a hair tie, “Picking apples requires some tree climbing.”

“Ah, you think of everything, don’t you?” Hunter asks as he pulls his hair into a much shorter tail than yours. And then he laughs as you take his hand and tug him, impatiently, towards the small booth that accepts payment and gives out bags.

The girl working the counter glances at Hunter, boredly, and then passes him a pair of bags after you pay. “Here,” She says as she focuses her attention back to her comm, “A map of the orchard, and a list of all of the events. Please avoid the areas that are roped off since those trees aren’t mature yet.”

And then she waves the pair of you away, and you lightly tug Hunter to the side, to glance at the map. “Mm…here, let’s go to this part of the orchard,” You say motioning to a part of the orchard near a lake. 

“Alright.” Hunter glances at the map over your shoulder, “Mm…this way, I think.” He folds the map and slides it into his pocket, and you, quite happily, take his hand in yours and thread your fingers with his.

Hunter pauses, lightly reaching out with his free hand to brush his fingers against your cheek, “Thank you,” He breathes out.

“For what?” You ask as you reach up and press your hand over his, gently squeezing his fingers.

“For inviting me into your life,” Hunter replies.

You blink at him, and laugh softly, “Oh, you goof.” You focus a loving smile at him, “You say that as if it’s a hardship to invite you into my life. As if I’ve ever done anything other than love you.”

Hunter brings your joined hands to his lips, and he presses a feather light kiss to your knuckles. You know that the words are hard for him, but you don’t mind. He shows you that he loves you with every touch and with every look. 

And so you beam at him, “I love you, Hunter. Thank you for being in my life.”

[httpiastri]

PERFECTLY FINE – CHAPTER TWO (JEDDAH)

genre: angst, fluff, comfort, etc.

word count: 6k

warnings: hmmm nothing except heartbreak in several scenes lol

author's note: guys im really sorry but im pretty mean to paul here..... like it got to the point where i rewatched jeddah videos of him and physically felt ill because i was mad at him LMAO 😭 but we'll get through this together!! this was supposed to include some other scenes but it was long enough as it was sooo 😶 summary for this chapter ig is yn feels very torn between her boys, and so do i. hope everyone has a good week (it's finally race week again aaaaa) !! 💗

also i think the next chapter might be shorter because i just wanna get it out already and i don't have a lot to write about in it hehe, fingers crossed that i can finish it soon<3

(alsoooo i proofread this a few days ago but i just cant find the energy or time to do it rn, praying that there are no big issues…. if there are, i would be so thankful if you could send me an ask or message etc 🙏)

series masterlist

"i still can't believe i missed out on the top ten again. and by just three hundredths, even..."

pepe shakes his head as you both make your way out of the campos truck, dragging a frustrated hand through his hair before pulling on his red bull cap. you can't help but chuckle – he's been like this all day, and all evening yesterday. you understand it, though; finishing just outside the reverse grid pole once again must feel frustrating.

not that you can relate. with a much better qualifying session yesterday in your second-ever qualifying in formula 2, you managed to snatch an eight-place finish. in other words, you will be starting third in today's sprint race, and just the thought of the probability of getting some big points sends tingles through your entire body.

"you'll get it next time," you say with a pat on your friend's back. "i mean, look at ollie. from p-nowhere last week to pole yesterday. that can be you next time around."

you've just come out of your morning meeting – morning meaning starting at ten and ending around noon – and now you're finally getting some lunch in the red bull hospitality. even during a race weekend like this, with mostly evening and night sessions, you still managed to oversleep and almost didn't make it in time for your meeting. you didn't get to have any breakfast, you had to run all the way from the shuttle to the truck, and you even forgot one of your racing boots as well as your phone in your hotel room. thankfully, you'll still have time to go back to the hotel before the sprint race, but walking around without your phone feels like being naked.

"speaking of ollie," pepe starts as you turn left and head into the formula one paddock. "are things between you two... alright?"

your eyebrows furrow together at the pause in the middle of his sentence. "why wouldn't they be?"

"well, i..." he stops again, and it makes you want to shake him. "i heard something. but it doesn't matter."

"who are you to decide that it doesn't matter?" you scoff. "tell me."

pepe sighs – he knows fighting you over this is a losing battle. you're way too stubborn to let go of this. "i heard that you were having issues. that you aren't happy, or something along those lines..."

you stop in your tracks, brain working in overdrive to comprehend what your friend is telling you. not happy with ollie? why would you not be happy with him? "who told you this?"

pepe stops in front of you. "i heard it from kimi, who heard it from... paul."

"what?" your eyes squeeze shut as your hands interlace on top of your head. "why would kimi come to you? instead of asking ollie himself?"

"you know kimi," pepe starts instantly. "he's young and gullible. i think he wanted to go for the see-if-the-best-friend-knows-anything strategy instead of asking ollie straight out." his hands squeeze your shoulders softly and you look up at him, a hint of a pout on your lips. "i guess he was scared that ollie would get mad at him or something."

"it's just-" you sigh. "it doesn't make any sense, does it?" pepe is just about to say something more when you cut him off with a dismissive swat of your hand in the air, stepping away from him and continuing your walk down the paddock. "let's just forget about it. i need lunch."

pepe stands frozen for a few moments before hurrying up to you again. he can't quite read your mood – you look unbothered, but he can't help but notice the slight touch of redness of your ears and the way your eyes seemingly can't focus on one thing for long enough. there's no way you can be over it already.

with pepe shutting up for a little while for the first time ever, you're left all alone with your thoughts as you continue your stroll. you know you should've asked for more information; you should've asked for details, for exactly what kimi said and how he worded it. you probably should also ask kimi himself for what paul told him. but right now, it's like a shadow is clouding your vision.

how dare paul say something like that? he must've known that the rumors he made up would spread like wildfire, as they always do in the formula paddocks. the snowball effect can make something tiny become huge, which is why you're always cautious about rumors. but apparently, paul doesn't care about that.

you're far too enraged to think even straight, and that's why it takes pepe pulling your arm to make you stop walking. you frown – to be fair, your frown hasn't left since it appeared a few minutes ago – but when you realize what it is that he's pointing at, both your frown and your jaw drop.

there's a swarm of journalists and fans following a ferrari driver down the road in front of you, which isn't all that uncommon. both charles and carlos are always incredibly popular. but what blows your mind is the fact that when you finally catch a glimpse of the driver's face, it's neither of the team's main drivers.

it's ollie.

"ollie! mate!" pepe yells, his arm waving erratically over his head. it takes a moment for the brit to find the owner of the voice, but he's tall enough to look over everyone else, and he's soon making his way over to you both. "i know you're popular, but this all seems a little excessive, don't you think?"

"i don't know what happened, as soon as the news came out..." ollie lets out a chuckle before turning to you, eyebrows raised at your expression. "i've called you like a hundred times, what have you been up to?"

"i left my phone at the hotel-" you begin but cut yourself off and shake your head. "wait, what news?"

when ollie starts speaking, time slows down. the entire world around you goes dark, the only thing you can hear being ollie's explanation of how carlos needs surgery and the call he got as he was having lunch. you feel lightheaded, almost like you could faint, when he speaks his final words. "...and they said i will be the one to replace him. i'm driving the formula one grand prix tomorrow."

you don't waste any time before throwing yourself into his arms, a loud squeal passing through your lips. "are you kidding me?" you exclaim, hugging him even tighter. "this is incredible, ollie! oh my god, i..."

"i can't really believe it myself, to be honest," ollie says, shaking his head as you part from the hug. pepe slaps his shoulder, congratulating his friend. "i would love to stay and chat, but i need to be in the car for the last practice, and i have a lot to get done-"

"go! go!" you usher, softly shoving him away back towards the journalists and fans who are still waiting just a few meters away. "we will talk later, okay?"

"of course."

and then you watch him leave – your boyfriend, the soon-to-be formula one driver – with a much lighter heart. this definitely helps you forget about all of the things regarding paul.

at least for a little while.

but of course, pepe stops your train of thought. "does that mean i get the reverse grid pole?"

you've never ever been to the ferrari garage before, so as you stand in the middle of it, you have no idea where to go or what to do; this is completely new territory. thankfully, you got a vip-pass from ollie before he ran off for his pre-practice duties, so at least you have the privilege of looking like a fool inside of the garage instead of right outside the doors.

a fool dressed in a red bull race suit, even. great.

you were in the middle of preparations for your sprint race when ollie texted you, and since you still had some time before the race started, you made it over to the other side of the paddock as quickly as you could. but unfortunately, that meant that you didn't have time to change your outfit into something more discreet.

"you don't look like you belong here, miss," a voice rumbles from behind you. your heart stops in your chest, and you're ready to improvise an excuse or find an escape route when you turn around – but luckily, you're met with chris, ollie's manager, standing there.

"thank god you're here," you say, letting out a sigh of relief. "do you happen to know where ollie is?"

"he's borrowing carlos's room. it's right down the hall and to the left."

you quickly thank him, turning again and making your way down said hallway. the room is easy to find, the two big, red fives on the door sticking out among the white walls. you're glad to find it unlocked, but you still knock a few times before sticking your head inside.

"sweetheart? can i come in?"

ollie is sitting on a massaging table, elbows on top of his legs and head resting in his hands. his eyes are stuck on the floor, but you take his silence as a yes.

"i got your text," you say, tiptoeing inside and shutting the door behind you, careful to not make any loud sounds to scare him. "how are you doing?"

when he still doesn't answer, your heat rate picks up. is something really wrong?

you make your way over to him, hands finding his cheeks and softly tilting him up to look at you – and you swear you've never seen him look this wrecked before.

not after his worst crashes, not when he lost the rookie championship last year. once again, you've entered completely new territory, and your heart breaks at the sight of him.

"ollie, talk to me," you plead, biting back the pout that starts to form on your lips. it's so painful to look into his eyes, but you can't back down. not now, not when he needs you this much.

"i'm-" his voice cracks but he shakes his head, clearing his throat. "i'm so nervous, i don't know what to do."

it's like he's oozing anxiety, and his heavy sigh is like a stab in your chest. ollie, your usually so calm and collected boyfriend, is probably going crazy over this – you know him well enough by now to understand that he's definitely freaking out even more on the inside than what he shows or tells. "i get that. one hundred percent. but," your thumbs begin to stroke over the skin of his cheeks, along his jaw, and then finally across his eyebrows, to which his eyes flutter closed. "this is your dream. it's been your dream since forever, and now you finally have the chance."

ollie sighs, but nods. you're getting to him.

"and it's not just any car, it's a ferrari. do you realize how cool that is? do you realize how many people would kill for an opportunity like this?" you smile at the sight of him with his eyes still shut, eyelashes resting atop his cheeks, messy fringe covering his forehead. even like this, at his most stressed state, he's completely gorgeous. "you would've killed for an opportunity like this just 24 hours ago."

"but what if i ruin it?" his voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks, shoulders slumping forward. "what if i go out there and i'm shit, and then they realize what a big mistake they've done by even putting me in the academy? what if-"

"it won't happen." his eyelids slowly open and he looks up at you, seemingly not even the slightest upset that you cut him off. "you're too good to do that. you'll get in that car and it will feel like your second home, just like it always does."

finally, a small smile makes its way onto his lips. it's only been a few minutes since you came in, but he seems much more relaxed now, leaning into your touch completely. "i'll try my best to make you proud."

you pout. "i'll be proud even if you end up with a slower lap than your pole lap from yesterday."

a laugh bubbles from his chest and he stands up from the table, opening his arms wide and pulling you in for a tight hug. his heart is still beating louder than a drum in his chest when your ear is pressed up against it, and you're almost worried it will jump out any second. but his breaths are much more controlled now, and his mind seems much lighter.

he presses a long kiss to the crown of your head, arms squeezing you tight. "i really need to go, because the sprint starts in..." you shoot a quick glance to the clock on the wall. "forty-five minutes. my team is going to kill me. but go out there and show them, baby."

and that's exactly what he did.

though, that's not the only thing you were correct about; your team was indeed furious when you finally made it back to the campos garage. your main engineer, who was supposed to help you get strapped in and fix all of the last details with the car over fifteen minutes ago, was apparently so angry he left you to do everything yourself. it's not that you didn't know about your schedule; you just needed to be there for ollie before his big debut.

everything works out in the end, at least according to you, and you're soon settled in your car on the grid, waiting to go on your formation lap. however, you've barely gotten as much as a glance from anyone on your team. you can't help but press the button to activate your radio. "i'm really sorry, guys. i just... had to do something."

"hope it was worth it." the voice of one of your engineers booms through your earpieces instantly, the sternness in his tone sending a shiver down your spine. "we got a huge fine because you were so late to get into the car, so..."

another of your engineers speaks up. "let's focus on the race instead now. no need to fight."

maybe it was because you got to visit ollie right before the race, or maybe it was just starting third and having a good car. either way, the sprint race was one of your best races in a long time. not only did you pass richard verschoor starting one place ahead of you into turn one; you also overtook paul, who started from pole, before the end of the first lap and got to lead your first laps in formula two ever.

dennis came around to steal the lead from you, but just landing yourself a spot on the podium was enough for you to celebrate. when you scored a second-place finish where the guy in first place was one of your former academy members, it didn't really matter that the guy on the third step of the podium was your ex-boyfriend.

going through all media duties is always exhausting, but it's usually never as dreadful as it is today. sitting in that press conference, knowing that your boyfriend is starting his first ever formula one qualifying in just a few moments. you have to literally bite your tongue not to pull a valtteri bottas and ask the journalists how q1 is going.

when you're this busy, you don't really have any time to think about paul's rumors. though, something about it continues to loom in the back of your mind all evening. especially when he speaks in the press conference, despite how hard you try to not even look at him, and especially when he's asked about ollie.

as the press conference finally comes to an end, you're not the only one who wants to hurry out of there to watch the rest of the qualifying session. you and the rest of the podium trio find a big screen that's showcasing the session, and you all insist that you should stay and watch, despite the f2 staff members' continuous attempts to squeeze the last drops of content from you.

they keep stuffing their phones and cameras in your face, throwing all kinds of questions about ollie your way, but you refuse to budge. you won't let them ruin this moment for you.

you're sure they've gotten quite a lot of embarrassing pictures of you teary-eyed while admiring your boyfriend's results, though.

you follow the timing board like a hawk, but something breaks you out of your trance. "who are you watching?" your head snaps to the direction of the voice – the f2 instagram admin with her phone pointed to paul.

as if you all haven't been watching and chatting about ollie for the last ten minutes.

you try not to, you really do, but you can't help but roll your eyes at the sight of paul. he's trying to look all innocent, hugging his trophy to his chest as his big, blue eyes blink up at the screen in the distance. a year ago, you would've just thought he was adorable – but today, this frustrates you more than anything. "i'm watching my dear friend ollie," he starts, eyes finding the camera so easily.

dear friend, huh? a dear friend is someone you spread rumors about?

the next time he speaks up, you have to physically bite your tongue to not yell at him. "the guy who gave me one position on tomorrow's grid."

you turn your head away in pure disgust. how could he say something like that? is that the only thing he cares about, places in his starting grid for tomorrow's feature race? is he serious?

you want to escape, to just storm off and never speak to him again. but instead, you force yourself to take a deep breath and focus back on the thing you're here for. ollie is doing so well; when q2 ends and he has driven his last lap, he misses out on q3 by just over a hundredth of a second. he almost even manages to knock out the legendary lewis hamilton, his fellow countryman whom he's been following for as long as he can remember, in his first-ever qualifying session.

you've never been prouder.

"honestly, as long as i can just bring the car home without wrecking it completely, i'm satisfied."

you give ollie's hand a soft squeeze at his words, fingers intertwining as your hands rest on top of the hotel cafeteria table. your other hand lifts your sandwich to your mouth and you take a bite, chewing it down quickly before giving him a nod.

you know his statement is meant as a joke, but you know it's just as much of a truth as a lie. driving an actual ferrari f1 car is his biggest dream, and even just making an alright race probably is enough to make him happy. there's no pressure on him, no one is expecting him to perform a miracle or even score some points.

but at the same time, you know he would never be satisfied with himself if he "just" brought it home safely. ollie isn't like that; he's way too stubborn, too determined, too much of a sore loser. it's what makes him. no matter what he says, there's always going to be something inside of him telling him that he needs to do better.

"i think you'll score your first points today," you tell him with a shrug. "i can feel it."

"don't say that, we don't know anything yet."

a shake of your head in combination with that smile of yours is enough to make some hope spark in him. "well, you have the car for it," you start. "and you have the skills."

ollie stays silent, letting the distant chatter of the other hotel guests having their breakfast fill the air. the cafeteria is emptying out by now, but new faces have been dropping in for a long time now, most of them walking by to give ollie a pat on his shoulder or a quick "good luck, mate".

you put down the last of your sandwich, leaving it behind with the fruit rinds and other scraps on your plate. "but don't think too much," you hum, eyes softening as they land on his. he's trying to contain his worries and anxiety as much as he can, but the slight tilt of his eyebrows and the way his gaze tends to dart away every once in a while tells a different story. "it's just driving. it's just what you always do, no problem."

you hold your glass of orange juice up to him and he gets the hint, clinging his own glass to yours before downing the last of its contents.

you're just about to speak up again with new words of affection, but an icy feeling spreads through your body at the sight of paul entering the cafeteria. the feeling soon turns into real nausea, and you can't even remember what you were supposed to say when you realize that he's making his way towards the two of you.

you want nothing more than to stay and keep encouraging ollie, but you can't take it at this moment. you stand up from your seat, giving ollie's fingers one last squeeze. "i forgot that i have a meeting soon," you make up. "so i need to go. i'll come see you before the race, okay?"

he doesn't even get to say bye before you've stormed off.

unfortunately, you have to pass paul in order to make it to the exit, but you make no effort to even recognize that he exists. you keep your gaze straight ahead.

karl, paul's physio, does a quick greeting from you though – as well as a confused look at the candle pressed into a pastry in one of the hotel's yogurt bowls – but then, you're off to hide in your hotel room until you're needed at the track for race preparations.

of course paul had to come by and ruin everything yet again.

with a good race from yesterday in the bag, you thought you could keep the momentum into today. however, that didn't turn out to be the case.

when a trident driver hit you from behind in the first lap, you lost a few positions instantly and after that, it was a bit too tough to recover. you had opportunities for overtakes, and the car was good enough to go through with them, but you never could. you kept slipping up, making rookie mistakes, and falling back even further. it even got to the point where your team came on the radio to remind you to focus on the road.

but no matter how hard you tried, it wouldn't work. the entire race, something else clouded your mind.

or, more specifically, someone.

every time you even caught a glimpse of paul's silver car, it was like something in your mind short-circuited. the memory of your conversation with pepe, the thought about paul running around and spreading rumors about you in the paddock… you couldn't push the thoughts, or the anger, away.

other times, back in the day, you were always good at turning your anger into something positive for your races. if you were upset with your father for something he said about red bull or the junior program, you went out there and proved him wrong. if you heard that another driver had complained about how you just got your seat because you were a girl, you made sure to dominate the race.

your stubbornness was always your biggest strength. but today, it was like your tank had run out. as much as you wanted to completely crush paul, you didn't have the capability.

at least paul didn't have that good of a race, either.

the second you get out of your car, you storm off towards your garage. you know you'll probably get a lot of shit for your performance your entire debrief, but if you can at least get over with it sooner, then you can forget about it and refocus on the next race weekend. plus, you really want to catch ollie before he's away for his f1 debut.

thankfully, you're not the only one getting criticized during the debrief; the team is not very happy with pepe's start, nor his DNF. after they've gone on and on about how costly this weekend has been for the team for an hour, you're finally released, but not without one last reminder to "think about what you're doing here and whose time you're wasting".

it's natural to lose all energy and confidence after a race like this. but the second you're back in ollie's arms, it's like the world around you just disappears. he's always been the best at keeping you grounded.

you've probably never hugged him this tightly before, but you can't help it. the second your arms wrap around his neck, you pour everything you have into the embrace.

he looks so good, so handsome and professional dressed up in his ferrari race suit. not just his prema suit with the ferrari logo on it, but an actual ferrari outfit. he looks like a real f1 driver – and the realization that he indeed is a formula one driver now brings tears to your eyes.

"hey," he says around a chuckle. "don't cry on me, woman."

"i won't..." you reach up to wipe away a drop from the corner of your eye as you pull away slightly from his embrace, shaking your head. "i won't. i'm just so proud of you."

"why are you so sappy?" the scene in front of him brings a huge grin to ollie's lips – he finds you equal parts adorable and hilarious. "i'm just going out there to drive a car. no biggie."

"no biggie," you repeat with a scoff, dabbing your other eye quickly before doing your best to blink down your other tears. earlier today, you were the one saying all of this was no problem. and yet, now he is the one who has to convince you of it. "right. it's just your passion, the thing you love. but i'm still proud."

an engineer catches ollie's attention above your head, sending him a certain look that has your boyfriend nodding before giving you one last squeeze. "i think i should-"

"of course, go," you usher him, retracting from his arms. "i'll be here after, no matter what happens." he nods, and he's about to leave when you speak up one last time. "have fun, okay?"

"always."

who would've imagined that ollie would not only score points in his first ever f1 race, but also win driver of the day, have the most overtakes, and score a seventh place as the second best british driver of the race?

well, you had imagined everything from him coming last to winning the race by horse lengths. and yet, this was all so unexpected. if someone had told you on wednesday that ollie would score six f1 points three days later, you would've laughed in their face. but now, it feels like it's been a long time coming.

you weren't allowed to stay in the ferrari garage for the actual race – it would've been a pr nightmare for everyone involved – so your nerves were all over the place since you weren't able to hear ollie's radio messages, info about the strategies, and so on. at least you get to wait right outside the garage with jamie, chris and his dad david, being the first to congratulate him after such a good debut race.

he looks completely worn out when he finally walks out through the door, but you can almost feel the pride and happiness radiating from him. his sweaty hair rests messily on top of his head, and an ice vest is draped over his body already to cool him down from the insane heat. and, most importantly, the smile on his lips is bigger than it's been all week.

ollie looks like he doesn't ever want to let go of his dad's hug, his face nuzzled in the crook of david's neck for a long time. you can only guess what things the father is whispering in his son's ear, but when the result is ollie pulling him even closer, your heart expands in your chest.

when they part, it's jamie's and chris's times to congratulate the point-scorer, and when he pulls away from his manager's arms, his eyes land on you. you're pulled into his embrace in just a second, a giggle slipping past your lips when he lifts you up into the air and spins you both around. his strong grip around you never eases, not when he sets you down on your feet again and not when he starts speaking.

"i knew it would be hard, but..." he shakes his head, a sweaty fringe brushing against the side of your head. "my entire body is ruined. like, it doesn't hurt because i have so much adrenaline, but i'm going to be in so much pain later. my neck and my shoulders and-"

another one of your waves of laughter cut off his ramblings, and he joins in once he realizes what he's been doing. when you finally pull apart slightly and your hands come up to cup his cheeks, you're just staring into his eyes for what feels like forever.

your boy, the f1 driver.

"this is from your mum," you whisper to him, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "and this is from your sister." a kiss to his other cheek. "and... this is from me."

ollie has to crouch down slightly because even when you get onto your tippy toes, you can't reach all the way up to his forehead. but once you press your lips against his skin, all of the hidden tension in his eyebrows disappears. he's like putty under your touch.

"i'm so proud."

ollie's groans are muffled by the pillow his face is pressed into, head twitching when your thumbs press into some tense areas of his neck. you shush him jokingly, like a mother comforting a crying baby, but your movements never halt.

ever since he got out of that car, he's been complaining about how sore he is. especially his neck and shoulders, and all of the muscles that were most affected by the g forces. you don't blame him, however – he's got a free pass for pretty much everything for the next week, you think – but you decided to be a nice girlfriend and help him out. the strings of whines and swearwords he keeps letting out don't seem to be stopping anytime soon, though.

the lotion on your hands is enough for you to be able to glide your fingers across his upper back, along his shoulder blades, all over his freckled skin. as you're straddling his lower back, you can reach pretty much all angles of his upper body, and the knots in his muscles seem to be disappearing despite how painful your massage seems to be.

eventually, ollie tilts his head to the side, his blushed cheeks decorated with lines from the pillow underneath him. his slight pout is on full display and his tired eyes flutter closed as he speaks. "hey, y/n?"

"yes, ollie?" you reply, your thumb pressing into one especially stubborn knot in his right shoulder. ollie stays quiet for a few moments and takes a deep breath, almost as if he's gathering courage for something.

"you know that i love you right?"

the world around you stops.

everything freezes.

he loves me?

your breath hitches in your throat at the words. it's the first time he's ever said them, and though it's not the most uncommon thing for someone to tell their girlfriend of over six months, they make your head spin.

a mishmash of thoughts clouds your mind. they won't shut up for even a second. but the loudest thought is the only one you shouldn't have; it's about the only person you can't be thinking about right now.

the way that your mind instantly wanders off to paul is frankly embarrassing, but you can't help it. he's the first boy you've ever loved, the first person you've ever uttered those three words to. the only one. and no matter how badly you wish you could just forget about that and move on, he's still a part of you. he's your only real experience of love.

and this just isn't the same.

you want to say it back to ollie, you truly do. but at the same time, you don't want to say it if it isn't true – it's not fair to him.

ollie senses that something is up. your signs aren't exactly subtle, anyway; your movements have stopped completely and he can't even hear you breathing anymore. "hey, i'm sorry-"

"don't apologize," you interject instantly, shaking your head as you start to climb off his body. "you did nothing wrong. i'm the one who's sorry."

"stop that, you shouldn't be." he turns around, staring up at you with those big, brown eyes of his. "i don't expect you to say it back if you don't want to. i just..." he lets out a low sigh. "i wanted you to know, i guess."

you sit still for a few moments, before leaning down to place a kiss on his rosy cheek. "thank you." another pause. "it means a lot, you know?"

"well, you mean a lot to me."

and he does to you, too.

but is that enough?

ollie loves me.

he actually loves me.

he told me today after the race, and... i didn't say anything. i just sat there like a complete moron.

i couldn't say it back. i just don't feel what i felt for paul yet.

what's wrong with me?

why don't i race like i used to? why can't i control my emotions? was the sprint race yesterday just luck? did i really deserve that podium?

why does paul still affect me this much? why is he always there in my thoughts – when i'm racing, when i'm with ollie, when i try to sleep...

i have a perfect boyfriend and a great car, so why do i feel like everything is falling apart?

yourusername just posted!

yourusername p2 in the sprint 🥈 big thanks to the team for the hard work!! and i got to witness the rb p1-2 up close, congrats redbullracing 💙 also check slide 4 for an appearance from me and my former family on f1tv <3

show all 96 comments

user y/n and the prema staff during the driver's parade 😭 they're so cute

→ user her referring to them as her family, byeeee

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

user why is no one talking about the last slide???

→ user because i can't talk while i'm crying, sorry

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

user great job this weekend y/n !!! thank you for signing my cap 🥺

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

user loved to see her celebrate the red bull double podium even after a hard feature race ❤️

→ user she had to balance out the post with that max and checo pic 😭 would've been just ollie & prema otherwise

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

user ollie looks like a baby in the second pic 🥲

→ user just a little boy playing with his toy cars

→ yourusername i had to hold his little teddy bear during the race to make sure it wouldn't get dirty

→ user stopppp you're so real for sharing that

[snarky-art]

Hello, first of all I love your redesigns of the Winx Club. Second I was wondering what the medieval gowns would look like in your redesigns? Also could you please give us more info and examples of the traditional fashions of each planet please, personally I really want to know more about the Deliosian clothing!?

Gah you’re so sweet! Thank you! Amd I’m unsure which medieval gowns you’re talking about but feel free to send a picture so I can see what I think about them

And I may have gotten a little overzealous with this stuff so I’m just going to upload in chunks for each planet

We got Court Wear for Domino here as well as an example of more casual everyday wear most of the public wore

I’ve decided I’m going to be doing these as separate posts for each of them because I ended up doing waaaay more than I meant to for some of them

What’s on the pages in order for notes plus some additional info below!

Picture of Marion

Dominion Court Wear before The Fall:

Started appearing around the time Marion's grandfather ruled, mainly in the corset style and waist length. Drapery and larger poofs added next. Marion pushed for more modern trends and started making her own when she became more active in court, Earth age ~13.

Overall:

- More points and angles

- More gems

- Lower bust/neckline

- Sleeker silhouette

- Pattern work more shape based, cross stitching popular

- Larger poofs on sleeves with them ending mid arm or acting as the whole sleeve

- More upturned shoulder accents

- Lower waistline

- No arm bands to separate poofy part of sleeve from the rest of it

- More connected drapery

- Oval gems present

- Larger hairstyle and more half up half down looks

- Skirt length floor length and uniform

- Elevated heels for footwear

- Thread work less visible if not solely decorative

- Corsets more popular and more decorated

- Hip accents to exaggerate shape

- Wrap around adornment connected to corset, typically with a 3 circle motif

Picture of Hagen

More Pre Fall Wear

Style more associated with traditionally masculine appearances, but like all looks can be worn by anyone of any gender or lack of gender. Acted much more as a fusion of modern and traditional elements.

Main Staples:

- 2 piece set

- Slimmer shape

- Top ending around mid thigh

- Skin trousers visible

- Level shoulder adornments on what would be considered more traditionally masculine fits

Traditional Dominion Features:

- slimmer sleeves with decorated cuffs

- Embroidery lining sleeves

- Braids

- Longer facial hair and hair overall

- Jewel decorations holding caps

- Cape going to knees

Picture of Bloom

Traditional Dominion Fashion

For hair: up with a few pieces of hair down. Braid work, cloth pieces with gems worked into hair

For Clothes:

- shoulders pointed out, typically have line pattern embroidered into it

- gems typically in groups of 3

- Empire waistline

- Flared train on lower half with underskirts typically visible, high-low cut present, usually lined with pattern at the bottom

- Images used in pattern work

- Swirls with pointed lines

- Boots, low heels

- Delicate and intricate metal work on neck wear, typically chokers

- Upturned tip on boots

- Gems are circle or teardrop shape

- Smaller arm poofs

- Arm cuff higher up on upper arm for arm poof

- Sleeves are separate from the arm poof

- Multiple strips of loose cloth

Picture of Oritel

More Traditionally Masculine Elements for Traditional Dominion Fashion not already mentioned previously:

- Boxier shape

- Decorated arm cuffs

- Longer length arm cuffs

- More level headwear

General info on page:

- Shorter hair and beard more common among closer associated people during Marion’s court fashion

Medallion:

- worn commonly by the consort of Domino

- Used as a way to show acting as head of the main ruler of Domino

- Sent with Bloom to Earth during The Fall

- 3 points to represent power in all directions, petals to represent the flowers that grow in magic dense areas, stylized trees to represent the lush forest land Domino has

Picture of Daphne

Fusion:

- combo of traditional and Marion’s court style

- Very common for a lot of the higher class and mobility with less wealth

- Daphne’s preferred style for formal events and appearances, both pre and post-resurrection

Info on the necklace:

- a traditional neck adornment style

- Style from the very beginnings of Empire expansion

- Originally would hold gems of conquered cultures

- These gems started being returned and replaced with Dominion gems right before the fall as part of the effort for reparations on Domino’s part to start making up for its violent past

Picture of Bloom in 2 outfits:

These are some more common outfits for the people outside of the upper and noble classes. They tend to be more reminiscent of traditional Dominion wear since the newer stuff in Marion’s court wasn’t very practical for the usual day to day activities such as running errands, doing manual labor, and artisan crafts.

General rules that were mentioned earlier still apply, just typically with less elaborate pattern work and embroidery. Rarely any jewels in day to day wear. It’s more common for families to have a few gems that they share and fit into different pieces of metal work for more important events and holidays.

Notes on the page:

- corsets ending a little above the waist

- Embroidered patterns on clothes

- Peasant blouse style shirt popular

- Boots all year

Flame Acolytes:

- group that works with The Flame and are in constant worship of The Great Dragon

- Cloth all blue

- Dragon tattoos on both arms, wrapped around arm 3 times, head on palms with mouth open

- Gems are purple

- Stretched earlobes from jewelry, style varies (bonus: Saladin wears this style in honor of Domino’s passing to this day. He found it in the ruins of Domino on one of his visits back that he and others of The Company of Light as well as other scholars took to see of there was any way to salvage the people and the planet itself)

- For the dress, front and back pieces tied together on the sides

- Dress underneath it

- Shoes made of cloth, a style left over from older form of widespread foot coverings